Symphony Of Control

Three

Aria's POV

“Sketchbooks in!” The class representative announced.

I quickly slipped mine in the pile with everyone else's and was heading out my head clicked and I remembered—

I froze.

Shit!

No! No no no!

The notes.

The one's that contained all the fantasy I wrote when I couldn't stop thinking about f*****g professor Kendrick. I had tucked them in my sketchbook hoping to throw them away but I forgot.

I took a quick turn, rushing back to the classroom but the books were no longer there.

“Wait, has professor Kendrick come for them already?”

“Yeah, he picked them up a few minutes ago. He should be in his office by now—”

I swear my stomach dropped to the floor.

I ran my hands through my hair as my heart thud none stop— I'm doomed!

God I pray he wouldn't open the note. Or maybe he shouldn't even see it at all. Maybe it should fall out— maybe—

“Aria.”

I turned. A guy from my class walked towards me.

“Kendrick's looking for you. He said you should meet him in his office— Now.”

Fuck, this's it.

I'm done for.

***

I stood outside his office door— it was slightly ajar but I was too scared to even knock.

“Come in, I know you're there”

Dang it.

I took a deep breath then walked in. He stood behind his desk, his face as handsome as I remembered— his arm muscles flex under his suit.

He had my sketch in hand, open. And my notebook paper in plain sight.

His cold eyes met mine— he'd never looked at me like that before. I was taken aback.

“You wrote this?”

I couldn't say a word, my mouth went dry.

“Fantasy number 5…” he read “Me bending you over while grading assignments? Licking your p***y with red ink still in my palm… really?”

I felt heat crawl over my skin. My legs squeezed tight as they trembled.

“Answer me.”

I nodded. “Yes.”

I could see his jaw tighten.

“You're a student… This is sick.”

“I— I don't care. I might be a student but that doesn't change the fact that I'm a woman…”

“And women are allowed to fantasize, right?”

He looked at me like I was nothing— the hatred in his eyes burned.

Does he really hate me this much? Why?

His eyes became blank like he couldn't figure things out. My legs still pressed together— tightly.

“Look, I've thought about it,” I whispered

“Every time you touched the whiteboard, I wanted you to drag me out in front of everyone and use me.”

“You think this is a game? You think this is cute? You think I'm flattered?”

“You're not special Aria. You're just one of those spoiled kids with daddy issues.”

That last line hit me but I couldn't move.

I hated how wet I still was, I hated that I felt embarrassed but I was still turned on.

“You have the right to your own opinions. But maybe I just want to be ruined.”

“You don't know what you're asking for—”

“Then show me.” I cut in.

He stared for a second then slammed the sketchbook shut.

“Come here.”

I moved slowly.

He grabbed my wrist and yanked me around the desk.

“This is what you want, right? You want to be used like a dirty w***e?”

“Yes.”

He shoved my face down on the desk, pushed my skirt up, pulled my panties down.

His hand smacked my ass hard.

“You didn't hope I'd kiss you right? Cause hoes don't deserve it”

“I don’t want one.”

“Good… on your knees”

I dropped fast.

He unzipped and pulled out his c**k. My eyes widened— they're way bigger than I imagined. Thick, long, veiny.

I opened my mouth but he gripped the back of my head and shoved it in deep.

I gagged hard.

He held the back of my head as he slammed deeper. His c**k hit the back of my throat and he didn't stop.

I couldn't breathe, he wasn't letting me.

“Keep choking on it, b***h”

Tears ran down my cheeks as snot mixed with drool fell on my chest. Just when I thought he pulled out so I could catch my breath, he slammed back in.

I coughed hard grabbing his thighs as I tried to pull back but his grip tightened.

“You wanted this, didn't you?” he growled

What had I gotten myself into?

When he finally let go, I gasped for air— spit dripped down my chin.

“Strip.” He ordered

I undressed fast, my body trembled.

He grabbed my wrist and bent me over the desk. He shoved my legs apart so wide that my thighs ached.

His fingers shoved into my p***y, fast and hard. All three at once.

I screamed.

He rubbed my c**t rough, almost too painful like he wanted to break me open.

He knelt down beside me then I felt his tongue— he clicked my c**t so fast that I flinched in pain.

“Stay still or I'll tie you down.”

He bit my c**t— I jerked but he spanked my ass in response.

“Sensitive already? Pathetic.”

He fingered me deep, threw fingers curled, rubbing fast while he sucked my c**t harder until I cried out.

I was shaking.

He stood pulling me up by my hair, he spun me around, shoving me to the floor.

“Suck it again. Deeper this time.”

I took him deep— he shoved harder, f*****g my face while I gagged.

“Eyes on me. Don’t f*****g blink.”

My nose hit his groin as my throat convulsed— I couldn't stop making choking sounds.

He pulled me up again and threw me back on his desk.

“Spread your legs wider.”

He forced my thighs open, slapped my p***y once, then pushed in.

No warning, just one hard thrust.

I screamed.

His hips hit me over and over. My t**s bounced with everything thrust.

He leaned down, sucked my n*****s so hard I cried out. He bit them until they throbbed.

“It hurts…” I whimpered.

He didn’t stop.

He spat on my face and slapped my cheek.

“You begged for this.”

“Please—slow down—”

He grunted and flipped me over, he bent me again and shoved back inside. Pounding harder and faster.

My body shook.

My legs gave out but he held me up by my waist and kept f*****g.

“You're nothing special, just a free cunt to fuck.”

“Please… I'm begging…” I sobbed

But he didn't stop, he grabbed my arms and pinned them behind my back thrusting in even harder.

My p***y ached, my c**t swollen, nipped throbbed— I couldn't even moan anymore.

“I said stop,”

He pulled out and pushed to the floor.

“Stick out your tongue”

I did as he came all over it— the hot, thick c*m splashed across my face, lips and chin.

I sat there, sore, sticky and barely able to breathe.

He zipped up, tossed my sketchbook at me— he looked at me like I was trash.

“You disgust me.”

“Make sure you're gone before I return.” He opened the door and left.

I slowly wore my clothes, shaking. My thighs barely worked as I limped out.

I wanted to scream, to cry and rip off my own skin.

I hated him.

I wanted to reset just to forget what he did.

But the sickest part of me… still wanted him to do it again.