Taming the brat

Alice circumstances

Evan’s car cut through the silent, midnight streets, but his mind remained trapped in that hotel room. Grip tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned ghostly white, he wrestled with a volatile cocktail of emotions. A flicker of guilt burned in his chest—he was a mentor, she was a nineteen-year-old student, and they had crossed a line that should have remained sacrosanct.

​Was she too drunk? Did I take advantage of a state she couldn't control? he wondered.

​But as the silence of the car amplified his thoughts, his protective walls rose again. He replayed the evening: Alice had been the one to initiate the one-night stand. She had been the one to demand the discipline. He recalled the sight of her dancing recklessly with those men—a nineteen-year-old girl, intoxicated and inviting trouble. The guilt began to dissipate, replaced by a cold, righteous conviction. She hadn't been a victim; she had been a brat, provocative and demanding, practically begging for the correction she received.

​He convinced himself that those swats were not an act of cruelty, but a necessary refinement. If she was going to survive in his world, or anywhere for that matter, she needed to be broken of those destructive impulses. She deserved the sting of his palm for the way she had carried herself.

​For the entire drive, Alice was the only thought occupying his headspace. He couldn't focus on the traffic, the looming threat of the Director, or the shame of his public punishment earlier that day. His thoughts kept circling back to the way her skin had flushed under his touch and the jarring, addictive way she had looked at him through the haze of her intoxication.

​He pulled the car over, killing the engine to sit in the darkness for a moment. He realized with a jolt that he hadn't just used her to vent his frustration; he had become obsessed with her. She was a puzzle he had to solve, a chaotic force he had to contain.

The silence of Evan’s private quarters at the Iron-Will Academy was heavy, broken only by the sharp intake of his breath as he collapsed into his chair. The exertion of the day—the public humiliation, the brutal caning, and the intensity of the night—had finally caught up with him. As he shifted his weight, a sharp, stinging pain radiated from his backside, forcing an involuntary "Ouch" from his lips. His skin was a map of raw, throbbing agony from the day's punishment.

​He moved toward his mini-refrigerator, his movements stiff and measured. Stripping away his clothes, he stood in the cold air of the room, his bruised, reddish-purple skin stark against his pale frame. With clinical precision, he began to tend to his wounds, rubbing the inflamed areas gently before pressing a cold ice pack against the deep, throbbing bruises. As the cold numbed the fire, his jaw tightened with resolve. He made a silent, burning promise to himself: this year, his assigned students would dominate the rankings, or he would abandon this profession entirely.

​He retreated to his bed, lying flat on his stomach to avoid further aggravating the welts. He pulled the thick file of new applicants toward him, his eyes scanning the names with a critical, detached focus.

​Then, he stopped.

​The name popped off the page like a physical strike: Alice.

​He studied her profile, the photograph capturing the same defiant eyes that had haunted his drive home. He looked at her credentials, her background, and the raw potential hidden beneath her rebellious history. A slow, dark smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He didn't just recognize her; he recognized the challenge she presented. She was the chaos he had tasted at the bar, and no. , she was officially under his jurisdiction.

​Evan closed the file, his decision made. He wouldn't just teach her; he would dismantle her recklessness and rebuild her into the perfect student. The hunt was over, and the real lesson was about to begin.

On the other hand, when Alice woke up the next morning, she was alone in the hotel room. She looked at herself and couldn't help but blush. Her breast had turned purple—all thanks to Evan's hands. She tried to get up and sit on the bed, but as soon as she sat, she winced from the stinging pain in her rear, all because of the spanking from the night before.

​Alice tried to remember who had marked her so beautifully, but she couldn't recall anything clearly. In reality, it had been dark in the car, dark at the bar, and by the time they reached the hotel room, his face was just a blur in her memory because she had been intoxicated. Alice thought there must have been something special about that man, as the marks were still red—usually, they would fade within half an hour. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and admired her spanked backside. Then, she got dressed and left the place.

Meanwhile, Evan calls Alice in the morning. Alice didn’t have much money and needed a place to stay, so she decided to earn some by dancing in a crowded place. When Evan called to inform her that she had been accepted into the Iron Will Academy, she was busy dancing. At first, she didn’t even pick up the phone. When she finally answered, Evan professionally told her that her application had been accepted. However, because Alice lacked the funds, she refused the admission. Moreover, Alice had no idea that the man she had a one-night stand with the previous night was actually Evan, her new mentor.

​Evan was listening more to the sounds coming from the background than to Alice. He realized that Alice was in a "slut area" where such dancing takes place. Evan's blood boiled, and he thought to himself, "Looks like she needs another dose from my hands," while cracking his knuckles.

​Evan arrived at the same red-light area where Alice had been dancing earlier. But she wasn't dancing anymore; she was looking for food. She only had 10 dollars left. Even though the food cost just 2 dollars and she could easily afford it, she refused to eat because she desperately needed to save every penny to find a place to live.

​Evan watched all of this from a distance. Walking a little further and continuing to follow her, he realized just how hungry Alice truly was. A short distance away, there was a restaurant where people could get food in exchange for being spanked. Alice decided to go inside. To get a single plate of food, the condition was that she had to take 30 hits on each side of her buttocks. She got ready and endured them all. The restaurant owner then gave her the food, and Alice ate it.

​Evan was watching everything from afar. He couldn't comprehend why Alice was doing all this. He had assumed that when Alice said her parents disowned her during her angry outburst at the bar last night, she didn't actually mean it. He hadn't realized that she was telling the absolute truth.

​Later, Alice found a single room available for rent. She didn't have to pay rent for the room because she decided to work as a maid in the owner's house instead. Meanwhile, Evan returned to the academy and began trying to dig up Alice's history.

As Evan digs deeper into Alice's background, the harsh reality completely sets in. She wasn't lying. She is entirely alone in the world, cast out by her own parents, wandering the streets and enduring immense physical and emotional pain just to survive.

​Unable to sit back and watch her destroy herself, Evan decides to call her again under a professional guise.

​"Alice, I'm calling from Iron Will Academy to inform you that you have been selected," Evan says, keeping his voice steady. "You need to report to the academy immediately."

​But Alice, worn down by her circumstances, refuses him yet again.

​"Why, Alice?" Evan asks, pushing for an answer this time.

​"I'm not capable," Alice replies flatly.

​"That's not true. I've personally reviewed your answer keys. You are more than capable," Evan counters.

​Alice lets out a bitter breath. "I don't have the money."

​"Iron Will will sponsor you," Evan says quickly, offering her a lifeline.

​But Alice is too smart and too cynical now. "And what do you want in return? I know how Iron Will works. They don't just sponsor people out of charity. You must want something from me in exchange, otherwise—"

​Before she can finish her sentence, a loud, demanding voice cuts in from the background. It’s the voice of her room's owner. Along with the voice, Evan hears an ominous, familiar sound through the receiver.

​Panic and exhaustion take over Alice's voice. "Look, I don't want to study. That's it. Don't call me again," she says hurriedly, and the line goes completely dead.

​Evan stands frozen, the phone still pressed to his ear. Because of his position as a mentor, he instantly recognizes the background noise and the tone of the owner. He knows exactly what is about to happen. Alice is about to be spanked again, enduring more physical pain just to secure her shelter for the night.

​The sheer helplessness of the situation hits him like a wave. He wants to save her, but he doesn't know how to reach her or how to make her accept his help without shattering her pride. Overwhelmed by a sudden rush of pure frustration and rage, Evan grabs a heavy paperweight from his desk and hurls it across the room. It smashes against the wall, shattering into pieces—a reflection of the absolute chaos and anger building up inside him