121... 122...
Isa came to a halt when she reached her correct classroom number, double checking the schedule pulled up on her phone. Stuffing the device back into the pocket of her jeans, she pushed open the door to the lecture hall, which was small but still relatively spacious. It could easily hold around 50 students, which was nothing compared to the larger lectures the student had attended earlier in the day. Being a couple minutes early on the first day of class, there were a decent number of students sprawled amongst the seats.
The student took her seat in the third row closest to the chalkboard, removing her computer from her book bag and setting it down beside her. Before she even got the chance to fully settle in, a bubbly voice erupted next to her.
"Hey, can I grab this seat?" The girl asked, motioning to the seat next to Isa.
Isa, slightly stunned at the abrupt interaction, responded. "Yeah, of course."
She replied before looking up and eventually rolling her eyes, earning a laugh from Ashly, who was most definitely not a stranger. The two students had bonded over the atrocity that was their American comparative politics class the past semester.
Isa couldn't help but look over the girl's extraordinary looks. She had layered blonde locks that cascaded down her entire back and tortoise-shell frames that accentuated her heart-shaped face, with soft and elegantly freckled skin. Everything contrasted the other student's long black waves and medium-tan olive skin tone.
"Thank God you're in this with me, " Ashly began to say, settling down into her seat. "Now that we're seniors, my motivation for school is almost non-existent. I mean, I barely passed calculus last semester."
"You know you're going to medical school after this," Isa kindly pointed out. She was More than aware her friend was over exaggerating. Ashly Meredith Harmon was probably one of the smartest girls at the university with her 4.0 GPA and laundry list of extracurriculars.
"After my gap year!" Ashly quipped back. "I still need to retake the MCAT, get my recommendation letters together, and - Oh, God."
Suddenly, a young gentleman made a beeline for the seat next to the beautiful blonde.
"Caleb... seriously, you're in this class?" she remarked in annoyed disbelief. Isa stayed quiet, absorbing the scene. With a slightly oversized hoodie and beanie, she already came to the stoner-frat boy conclusion.
"Yes and you owe me, Ashly," Caleb said, plopping down in the seat next to her. "I'm the only reason you passed calculus last semester and I don't do this psychology bullshit. Help me out and we'll even the score."
Ashly looked over to Isa apologetically, as if remorseful for the scene that just unfolded.
Caleb leaned forward slightly to see past Ashly, giving a lopsided smile. "I'm Caleb."
Isa nodded in acknowledgement. "Isadora but my friends call me Isa."
She mentally hesitated at the term 'friends'. Most of the people she met in her first year of college didn't stick around. Most of the girls joined sororities and others were only out of the convenience of having the same classes. While Isa never feared solitude, often finding peace in it, she was grateful to be meeting new people. Now in her senior year, the student's mind was on one thing - graduating and then moving out.
As for her name, only her parents used her full name - and she kept it that way.
"Isa. I like it." Caleb repeated with a smile. He already had whipped out his computer and was swiftly typing and editing a written-up document on his screen.
"That's due in 3 minutes," Ashly hissed, slapping Caleb on the shoulder, only provoking a chuckle.
"Hey, hey, it's all good... I just gotta save and submit..."
Caleb somehow managed to save the file and upload it in a record time that Isa had ever witnessed. The assignment wasn't too difficult - just an explanation of why the student took this class and a general understanding of abnormal psychology.
Ashly sighed. "I don't know how much I can help you out. I've heard this professor is really tough."
Caleb nodded. "A friend of mine said he didn't give out a single 'A' last semester."
"Really?" Isa responded in disbelief. Damn.
"But we're all seniors here, right?" Caleb pointed out. "We just gotta pass, graduate, and get the hell out of here."
"You know, I've also heard he's very..."
Ashly's voice trailed off as the door to the classroom opened.
Not many people could command a room to silence with just their presence. Expensive shoes hit the floor, each step exuding dominance and echoing in the room. Isa only had to move her head a little to see the man walking down the aisle towards the front of the room.
The black slacks and dark dress shirt he wore only accentuated his tall, well-built frame as he made his way to the podium in demanding strides.
Most in the room - girls and boys alike - were ogling the professor's beauty that would make God or Gods of any religion gasp, from his defined cheekbones to his chiseled jaw emphasize by a trimmed scruff. Everything was easy on the eyes. His brown round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose complemented his lazy, warm-brunette waves which were effortlessly styled away from his face. If Isa had to put a number on it, she'd estimate the professor was anywhere from his late twenties to thirties. She had never seen a more objectively handsome man.
But that's not what mesmerized the young student. No, it was the aurora of sheer command the man carried with him. Isa knew this man never asked for anything in his life - he dictated it.
Long gone was the simple giddiness of having an attractive professor. Isa was thoroughly enamored. Curious.
The student mentally cursed herself as her thoughts took a darker turn. She knew her therapist would have something to say about it, who was more than aware of Isa's self-destructive tendencies regarding sex and commitment.
Isa definitely didn't need to spiral into an episode of self-reflection at the moment, so she refocused her attention to the front of the room.
The professor removed his glasses and gracefully tossed them onto the podium. The class was silent, waiting for him to speak.
"Good afternoon. This is psychology twenty-two hundred, the study of deviant behavior. I'm Professor Theodore Ashford. Dr. Ashford is also fine, " His modulated, deep voice resonated within the walls of the room with ease. "Now, I know half the class is here to just pass. The other half are actually up for the challenge."
The sound of uneasy students shifting in their seats filled the air. Isa saw a glimmer of a smirk appear on the professor's face in response to the discomfort.
Isa blinked. She must've imagined that.
Professor Ashford continued. "This class will require a significant amount of your time and effort. We will delve into, study, and explore the human psyche. This class will go beyond textbook readings and psychological definition. I want all of you to bring your own analysis and thoughts. That's the true study of psychology."
The rest of the class proceeded as most first-day-of-classes go. Dr. Ashford went through the syllabus of the class, dates for midterms, and books needed - one being a textbook he co-authored himself.
Looking around, Isa could tell this wasn't what some students expected and she figured she wouldn't be seeing them next class.
The professor continued into an introduction to abnormal psychology, both its modern study but also its dark past of stigmatization and scrutiny. Isa could listen to the man talk about anything, so much so that an hour had flown by in a second.
"I believe that's all I intended on covering today. See everyone on Wednesday. You're all dismissed." Professor Ashford promptly concluded, relocating back to the podium and desk set up to his right.
"I'm fucked," Caleb grumbled, lugging his backpack over his shoulder.
"Hopefully I'll see you both here Wednesday," Ashly said, insinuating either Caleb or Isa would drop the class by then.
Before the three of them could exchange contact information or parting words, a sharp voice called out that almost put a stop to Isa's heart.
"Isadora Blaire."
The student turned her head towards the voice, making direct eye contact with her professor. He motioned for her with a slight tilt of his head.
"See you guys Wednesday," Isa breathily muttered to her new friends, wondering what the professor could possibly want from her.
She should've run. He should've made her. Instead, Isa took a few small steps towards Theodore, making her way around his desk. It was too slow a pace for the professor, whose arousal and adrenaline had thrown his judgment out the window. When Isa was finally at arm's length away, Theodore wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her forwards over his knee. Before Isa could even process what was happening, Theodore muffled her cry with a strong hand over her mouth.Theodore always practiced self-control. Not today. Not with Isa. Isa's skin felt like it was a thousand degrees as pleasure pooled between her legs. Theodore had hardly touched her. With one hand covering her mouth, the other was on the small of her back, balancing her. All she could hear and feel was his measured, controlled breathing and the coolness of his belt buckle against her side. It was so, so wrong but Isa wanted this bad. "Promise to be a good girl and stay quiet for me?" Theodore's hardened voice was ec
Theodore hadn't had an established submissive in over a few years now. For one, his work had started to become more demanding as opportunities rose along with his success. But more substantially, the allure of it had faded. It was fun for the young man in his 20s, but now the professor wanted - needed - something deeper. Theodore had tried love, or at least attempted it. But those attempts quickly realized they could never compete with the professor's loyalty to his work. When he looked at Isa, he could see it. Her eyes were dark... brown like a barren forest in a frigid, snowless winter night. Yet amidst the trees was a flame. It was the same spark Isa saw in her professor that now plagued her fantasies. The sin, immorality, corruption of it all...No. She's a student. The relationship between a professor and student should always remain chaste. Although if we lived in a lawless society, Theodore would have Isa's hands bounded and her ass branded with his belt.This had to stop -
Isa had found the building and room number of Professor Ashford's office on the class syllabus. It was in the newly renovated psychology building at the heart of campus.Taking the marble staircase to the second floor, Isa reached room 111 - well, More like suite 111. The man probably meant a lot to the university. Isa often scoffed at the overly prestigious pedestal Wentworth was placed on. At the end of the day, everyone gets the same thing from college upon completion - a degree. Isa just paid a higher price and was now facing deeper debt. All for essentially more bragging rights. Most of her tuition was probably going to this man's paycheck. Theodore's blinds weren't drawn, allowing Isa to take a look inside inconspicuously. He was too engrossed in reviewing a graduate student's grant proposal for an upcoming research forum. Isa couldn't help but stare. Theodore was at his grand mahogany desk, his head resting on his hand propped up against the flat surface. His other hand twidd
Isa had persistent trouble staying focused the rest of the week. She couldn't tell if she was dreading the approaching Friday... or anticipating it. The size of the class dwindled significantly. Readings were lengthy, assignments rigorous, but Isa found the subject fascinating. And as intimidating as he was, Professor Ashford was a captivating and charismatic lecturer. He was extremely well-versed and knowledgeable in his field, warranting his many accolades and respect amongst peers. The week flew by, Isa almost forgetting about their post-class encounter on the first day..."The other day my roommate was telling me how she knows a bunch of girls who've tried to get favors outta Dr. Ashford if you catch my drift," Ashly spilled as she, Caleb, and Isa walked out of their final class for the week, the weekend finally in their grasps. For Isa, this meant it was Friday and she had an important paper to turn in by the evening."Damn, either he's gay or he takes his job really seriously."
Any nervousness and intrigue Isa had while approaching the professor dissipated as her eyes fell to the professor's desk. On it was her write-up that had been due before the first day of class, at the top written a bold, red...C-Isa was not one to feel entitled towards certain grades or take bad ones personally. Overall, she was an A/B student and was content with it; a C here and there wouldn't destroy her. But to get a C- on the first assignment of the class and on a paper she had put considerable thought and effort into stung. Isa grabbed the paper off the desk, taking a closer look to make sure it was hers - and it was. Isadora Blaire was written right there at the top. The student's inhibition left the room. Isa snapped, "What the fuck.""Language, Miss Blaire." The baritone voice of the professor cut through the closing distance between the teacher and student as he took a few steps closer. Isa was average in stature, but - God - she felt so small in his presence. And she
121... 122...Isa came to a halt when she reached her correct classroom number, double checking the schedule pulled up on her phone. Stuffing the device back into the pocket of her jeans, she pushed open the door to the lecture hall, which was small but still relatively spacious. It could easily hold around 50 students, which was nothing compared to the larger lectures the student had attended earlier in the day. Being a couple minutes early on the first day of class, there were a decent number of students sprawled amongst the seats.The student took her seat in the third row closest to the chalkboard, removing her computer from her book bag and setting it down beside her. Before she even got the chance to fully settle in, a bubbly voice erupted next to her. "Hey, can I grab this seat?" The girl asked, motioning to the seat next to Isa. Isa, slightly stunned at the abrupt interaction, responded. "Yeah, of course."She replied before looking up and eventually rolling her eyes, earnin