Professor Mistress Ch. 10

I tried so hard to find any other way to pin her down with evidence. It's why I was so distant. I knew deep down, I would have to push you away to find out what that reason was. But I didn't want to, I wanted you," she leaned her chin on my knee now and cried openly, "I still want you."

Her position of submission to me was dissolving my composure.

"What the hell is so important about me? I don't know anything about trafficking, I'm a nobody," I didn't like phrasing it like that, but in this context, it seemed ok.

"That was exactly why, you were interested in the BDSM community, and no one would come looking for you. No parents, no close ties to anyone who would report you missing or insist on an investigation being carried out. You were the perfect candidate for top dollar. A young, smart, American woman with no one to notice when you disappeared, no one but me. Which is why I had to prove to her, that you didn't matter to me, that I wouldn't go looking for you if you vanished one day.

That's why I pushed you away. So you could lead me back to her."

I slammed the rest of the drink and stood away from her grasp and started pacing.

"So you're telling me, I was a potential target for human trafficking, and that's how you brought down a huge ring?" She sat on her desk with a tearful nod.

"We didn't know how they were choosing their victims, they were so varied. Men, women, professionals, students, rich, poor, dark hair, red heads, blondes, athletic, curvy, there was no correlation. But if we established correlation, we could then catch them in the act. They have been abducting victims from the club." My eyes shot to her now at the admission.

"One night in bondage with a video tape of consent and some sketchy signatures on contracts of consenting indentured servitude and the victims themselves didn't think they had legal rights to get out of the arrangement. When they revoked consent, the perpetrators would show them video tapes of them begging for sexual relief, or the signed contract of consent." I made two more glasses and passed one as I sat on the desk next to her.

"The law part comes in when there is no way to legally discern consent, you can sign something stating you are consenting, but at any point in time you have the right to revoke that consent. But flashing a contract that people think holds merit and having someone on camera asking to be fucked scares them back into submission," she seemed genuinely invested in the topic, and I shared the sentiment.

"The victims don't even feel like they're victims of a crime, they think they are victims of their own bad decisions," the conclusion hit me hard. I shared a similar sentiment to my willingness for punishment on myself. She clutched my knee.

"That's why it's been so hard to find who has been abducting all these people, the victims don't even know they have legal grounds to stand on, and no one comes looking for a college student that was seen at a sex club, and if they do, there's a video tape of them begging to be taken and used in a sexual manner. So it can easily be used towards a layperson to demonstrate the willingness of an agreement." I grasped her hand suddenly, almost painfully.

"How did you know I wouldn't get caught up in the same idea? I wanted to be punished, I wanted to be taken advantage of, even if I was in over my head. I thought I should suffer for letting my mother down, for letting you down." The admission pained me to say out loud, but it was true. I easily could have been another snapshot of someone who disappeared into sexual slavery.

She turned and clutched my cheeks in her hands, "Because you're smart, you would have figured it out." I wanted a better answer than that. "And, because I was tracking you." she chuckled a little as I fought leaning into her touch.

"You were tracking me?" My head jilted at her confession.

"The card I gave you for expenses, as soon as you used it for anything it would send your location to the police," she smiled devilishly, "and to me. When it pinged at another sex club in the city, we all knew it was about to happen, that we could catch them in the act."

I pulled her hands off my face, but kept them clutched in mine.

"So Deacon?" I asked.

"He was the biggest financial supporter of the organization. As far as we can tell, he never indulged in the crimes himself, but was aware of them. That is, until you."

She was practically sobbing now. "I know I pushed you into his arms, but the first time it was because I was scared, the second time, I hoped it would make a difference." I wanted to console her, but she just admitted to using me. The one thing I was convinced she had been doing to me this whole time. But with the context as to how and why now evident, I couldn't harbor any animosity towards her. I would have done the same. And I think she saw that revelation flash over my face before she trapped my lips in hers.

It wasn't a powerful kiss, it wasn't a commanding kiss, it was a kiss of apology, and of promises. Promises that I needed to feel from her, promises that I was making to her. It was a secret shared between two women that had been betrayed before, but weren't coerced into changing their morals for those same reasons. When we broke for air, we were both shedding tears of relief and pain.

"So where are we exactly," I whispered inches from her mouth. She chuckled and stroked my waist.

"This is my, our home, that is if you want it, if you still want me," Browning's tentative side was captivating. I smiled and nodded into her forehead.

"You just admitted you're basically a legal superhero and that you used me to save a bunch of other people from becoming victims. I think that's the first time my mother would be proud of me," I meant it.

"Oh I think she would be proud of this," she reached over the desk and handed me an envelope.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Just open it," she smiled fully now. I opened it and stared at the words on the page.

"No, is this real?" She kissed me.

"With a score like that, you can work anywhere you want to," I stared at the words on the pages. I scored a 320 on the BAR. I couldn't believe my eyes.

"I don't know, there is this one practice I want to work for, but they had some staff changes recently, so I don't know if there is a slot available for me," I was enjoying teasing her now that some of our relationship was put into a bigger perspective.

"Well there have been some recent openings, but there is still an entrance interview," she was slowly pushing me back on the desk and I let her as she straddled my waist gently.

"Well, I don't know, professor, I want to work at a firm that helps the underdogs." I smiled as more of our skin made contact with each other. She guided me to roll over and lean my breasts on the desk as she pushed into me with gasp.

"I can show you a lot about the position of dogs," She raised my skirt slowly and stroked between my thighs. I shivered with anticipation.

"I think I'd like to submit my-" my words were cut off when she nibbled my ear lobe and whispered.

"I love you," I shuddered and groaned into the desk.

"I love you too, Mistress."