Chapter Six – Public Humiliation

Chapter Six – Public Humiliation

The night of the VIP party arrived faster than Noah was prepared for.

All day, a strange tension followed him like a shadow. He barely heard his lecturers. The words in his textbooks blurred. Even the steady rhythm of campus life students chatting, footsteps in hallways, laughter echoing between buildings felt distant, unreal.

The invitation weighed in his pocket.

By the time night fell, his chest felt tight.

Backstage, the club was louder than usual. The VIP event had drawn a different crowd wealthier, colder, more deliberate. The air carried a sense of expectation that made Noah’s skin prickle.

“You’re closing tonight,” his manager told him. “The client specifically asked.”

That was unusual.

Noah nodded anyway. He had learned not to ask questions when money was involved.

The other dancers performed first, the energy building, the room growing more intoxicated as the hours passed. Noah waited in the shadows, stretching, breathing, preparing. His pulse matched the heavy bass vibrating through the floor.

When his turn came, the lights dimmed further.

A single spotlight cut through the haze,Noah stepped onto the stage.

The room quieted.

That always happened. It was something he had come to expect, yet it still sent a thrill of fear and control through him. He wrapped his hand around the pole, grounding himself, and let the music take over.

He moved slowly at first, drawing attention rather than demanding it. The crowd leaned forward, hungry, focused.

Control, Distance, Precision.

Everything was as it always was Until the doors opened,

At first, Noah didn’t notice But the shift in the room was immediate. Conversations died. The air changed.

A ripple of respect—or fear—moved through the crowd.

Noah’s instincts sharpened.

He turned and froze

Professor Elliott stood at the entrance,

For one suspended second, Noah’s mind refused to process what he was seeing. The man who ruled his daylight world with strict order and discipline was now stepping into the darkness of his night.

Their eyes met Shock slammed into Noah’s chest so hard he almost lost his balance.

The music continued

The audience waited

And Elliott walked forward

Slowly, Deliberately.

Each step echoed in Noah’s ears louder than the bass. The professor’s expression was calm, controlled, but his eyes burned with something dangerous.

Noah’s body reacted before his mind could catch up. His movements faltered. The carefully maintained distance shattered.

He couldn’t breathe The spotlight felt like a prison

Elliott stopped at the edge of the stage, looking up at him.

“You,” he said quietly.

The single word carried more weight than any shout Noah’s throat went dry.

The room sensed tension but didn’t understand it. They only saw a powerful man claiming attention.

“Continue,” Elliott ordered.

The command cut through Noah For the first time since he began dancing, he hesitated

The crowd murmured.

Heat flooded his face Humiliation crawled under his skin.

He forced himself to move again But the control was gone.

Every step felt exposed. Every shift of his body felt watched in a way that stripped him bare. Elliott’s gaze never left him.

The music ended Silence fell.

Elliott climbed the steps onto the stage.

The crowd erupted in cheers, assuming this was part of the show.

Noah’s heart pounded violently,

“Professor—” he whispered.

Elliott grabbed his wrist.

The grip was firm, unyielding. He pulled Noah closer, forcing him to stand directly in front of him.

“Can’t even look at me during the day,” Elliott said, voice low enough only Noah could hear. “But here you are”Noah tried to pull back

Elliott didn’t allow it.

The crowd watched, fascinated Humiliation burned through Noah’s veins

“Let go,” he breathed,

“Or what?” Elliott murmured.

The words weren’t loud, but the threat was clear Noah’s resistance faltered.

Elliott leaned closer, his voice brushing Noah’s ear.

“How long?” he asked.

Noah trembled.

“I don’t—”

“Don’t lie.”

The command sent a shiver through him, Elliott’s hand tightened slightly.

“You’re failing assignments,” he continued calmly. “You’re distracted. Exhausted. And now I know why.”

The truth hung between them like a blade the crowd mistook the tension for performanceNoah’s chest rose and fell rapidly.

“Please,” he whispered Elliott studied him for a moment.

Then he turned slightly, addressing the room with cold confidence.

“Gentlemen,” he said smoothly. “It appears the evening’s entertainment requires new terms.”

The room laughed.

Noah felt his stomach drop Elliott looked back at him

“If you’re this desperate for money,” he said quietly, “you should have come to me.”

The words hit harder than any insult “How much?” Elliott continued. “Per night?”

Noah’s vision blurred Elliott stepped closer

“I’ll pay ten times your usual rate,” he said.

The room erupted again, assuming this was part of the spectacle.

“But,” Elliott added softly, “you don’t perform for anyone else.”

The meaning was unmistakable 

Ownership

Control

A contract without paper.

Noah’s last thread of composure snapped “This isn’t a game,” he said, voice shaking,

Elliott’s expression darkened

“No,” he agreed. “It isn’t.”

He released Noah suddenly The absence of contact left Noah unsteady.

“Decide,” Elliott said. “Now.”

The spotlight burned

The crowd waited

Noah stood frozen between two worlds that had finally collided.

Survival had always demanded sacrifice.

Tonight, it demanded surrender And for the first time, Noah didn’t know which part of himself would break first.