The Professor and His Student (Open)

[Lucifers Tongue]

The Professor and His Student (Closed)

Character Name - Professor Thomas Dalton
Age - 42
Height - 6'3
Weight - 200 lbs
Hair - Black (thanks to hair dye)
Eyes - Blue (thanks to contacts, real color is brown)
Occupation - Professor of Philosophy

*****************************************************​

"No, Malcolm, I understand your position," Professor Dalton said, biting his tongue to keep from saying more. He was hunched forward over his desk, one hand holding the receiver to his ear, the other clutching his forehead as if trying to keep the contents from bursting forth. "Yes, Malcolm. I think I have just the thing, a piece on the influence of existentialism on modern presentations of christian theology," he paused, listening to Dean Hammonds.

As he listened to the Dean launch into another rant about the importance of publishing, Thomas closed his eyes tightly, somehow trying to fend off the headache that was beginning to pound through the back of his head. Resigning himself to the fact that just closing his eyes and wishing his problems away was not the solution, he reached down and pulled the bottom drawer of his desk open. He fished under the folders and documents until he finally pulled forth a bottle of whiskey, which he sat on the desk top. Reaching back into the drawer he pulled out a small shot glass and sat it beside the bottle.

"Of course you're right," he said, trying his best to sound sincere. "Things have just been so hectic this last year, with Emily going off to Stanford, and Elizabeth and I have been going through some difficult times. I'm sure you've heard the rumors," Thomas poured himself a shot as he listened to the Dean. "I appreciate that, Malcolm. I won't let you down," he replied before saying goodbye and placing the receiver down on the base.

He raised the shot glass in the air, "Here's to friendship," and with that he downed the first of what he intended to be many more. The truth was, he and his wife Elizabeth were going through more than just a tough time, they were divorcing. She had filed the papers two days ago. It was going to be messy, very messy. It had been a long time coming, ever since Elizabeth had found out about the affair Thomas had had with one of his grad students five years ago. They had certainly played at working through the problems but in the end neither really wanted to. Thomas knew that she would never forgive him and he didn't really care. She wasn't the woman he had fallen in love, even before the affair, she was cold and bitter and resentful. As the end of the marriage drew closer, he wondered if her heart had ever really been in the union.

The professor drank another shot of whiskey and sat the glass down when the phone rang again. He glanced down at his watch, 8:45, almost time for his office hours to end. He answered the phone somewhat reluctantly. It was Elizabeth, and she was shouting at him before he could even speak.

"Just calm down, damnit!" he said, trying to be heard over her hysteria. "What are you talking about? What bank account?" one of her attorneys had apparently discovered the private account that Thomas had created for himself, the one that he had been slowly diverting money into so that when the marriage did end, she wouldn't be able to take everything from him. "No, you listen to me, you bitch...that money is mine! It's all mine. You'll get what I give you and not a penny more!"

The more Beth shouted at him and called him names the angrier Thomas became, his face growing hot and red. The argument went on for a few more moments and culminated with Beth threatening to tell their daughter, Emily, about the affair and the bank account. By then the professor was fuming with a cold rage. He was so pissed, if his wife had been there in his office with him, he might have strangled her. Instead he slammed the phone down and then grabbed it and ripped it from the phone jack, throwing it across the room to shatter against the wall.

He reached for the bottle of whiskey, not bothering with the shot glass this time. As he drank down a large amount of whiskey, his throat burning, he heard a knock at his office door. The bottle still in his hand he stomped to the door and flung it open.

(Closed for TheOneThatGotAway)

 

[TheOneThatGotAway]

Character Name: Alessandra "Alice" Milatovich
Age: 19 Height: 5'6 Weight: 125 lbs
Hair: Brunette | Currently Dyed: Cerulean Ombre
Eyes: Hazel | Blue Contacts
Occupation: College Sophomore (Undeclared) | Baker
________________________
​

"Fuckfuckfuck…!!"

Alice screamed at herself, as she sprinted towards the Philosophy department. Only a few weeks into the new semester, and she was certain that today was the worst she had experienced, so far, in her young college career.
**********
It all started at 5:00 AM, with getting yelled at by her boss, Mr. Kostenko. She didn't quite understand everything he had said, but one thing was clear: There really was, nothing quite like getting your ass reamed, in livid Ukrainian, first thing in the morning. All Alice could do was nod her head, apologize profusely, tie her apron, and get to work. It wasn't like Mr. Kostenko was out of line, either. She was supposed have been in an hour earlier, but she had been up until 2:00 AM, finishing her Philosophy paper. This may have been a valid excuse if she had a commute to deal with, but she lived in the studio apartment just above the bakery.

Alice admonished herself the whole time, as she prepped various breads and pastries for the day. The young woman was determined to chalk this up to "Learned Experiences" and move on. However, the universe seemed to have different plans for her.
**********
Upon wrapping up her short shift at the bakery, she scrambled back to her apartment to take a quick shower, then walked to campus for her 9:00 AM Chemistry class. As she settled into her seat, and opened her bag, she realized she had forgotten her notebook on the counter -- making for a troublesome lab, without her personal notes.

Frustrated with her morning, she walked back to her apartment, hoping she'd find some solace with a quiet lunch at home. As she opened the door, her hopes were instantly dashed by the sight of Darryl, and a friend of his, raiding her fridge.

"Oh hey, babe. You mind fixin' us somethin' to eat?"

Alice's hackles rose at seeing Darryl's level of familiarity at her place, but she kept her temper reigned in. He was a one-night-stand turned friends-with-benefits, which apparently in Darryl's mind meant boyfriend & girlfriend. This certainly wasn't the case for Alice, and the scene before her was definite grounds for "breaking up".

Alice cleared her throat, and eyed Darryl, "Don't you have class today?"

They had hooked up last night, and she had allowed him to stay, like she had a few other nights. Usually, he saw himself out and was gone by lunch. Apparently, this wasn't the case today.

"Yeah, not till later though. So, I thought I'd just chill here till then. And Kyle was around, so I let him up. Oh yeah, Alice-Kyle, Kyle-Alice," he quickly introduced. "You don't mind, do you?" Clearly, Darryl was oblivious to boundaries.

"Tell you what, I'll make us lunch, then we can walk together for our 1:00 classes? Yeah?" Alice suggested, thinking this way she could escort the boys out personally.

"Well, here's the thing. We don't have class till 4:00, and I've gotta finish writing a paper for that class. Is it ok if I write it here? I feel like I can concentrate on my work so much better here." Darryl started making puppy dog eyes, and Kyle followed suit.

Darryl's harmless, and Kyle looks like he's cut from the same cloth. Them staying a few hours more shouldn't be a big deal, she rationalized. "Fine," she conceded.
**********
Alessandra's day simply went downhill from here.

Throughout the course of the afternoon, she had managed to trip and drop her books onto a puddle, ruining one of her moleskin sketchbooks. In Figure Drawing class, someone had bumped her table hard enough to knock her artist's toolbox down, sending her pencils, charcoals, and brushes scattering aross the floor. And, if those weren't big enough signs that the universe had her number, the realization that the library's printers were down - thus, preventing her from printing her Philosophy paper - definitely was.

Alice closed her eyes, tilted her head to the ceiling, and breathed a silent, exasperated plea of, "Why?!", before deciding to email Professor Dalton her paper. That way, he'd at least have a time stamp of her assignment submittal.
**********
She struggled hard to stay awake during the professor's presentation on Descartes' Principles of Philosophy. The lull of his voice, the dim lighting, the warm air, and auditorium seating, all compounded on the fact that she had only slept for 2 hours - if that. Alice succumbed to closing her eyes for just a moment, only to have them snap open at the proximity of Professor Dalton's voice. Her heart lodged in her throat as he called her out for dozing in his class, bringing about a wave of unwanted attention and snickers from her fellow classmates. She couldn't slink low enough in her seat, she was so embarrassed.

Then, the coup de grâce came. As the professor dismissed the class, having students leave their papers on his desk, he announced that digital copies would not be accepted. He made note of his office hours this evening, and informed that he would consider accepting papers until 9:00 PM, but they would be marked down as "Late".

Fantastic, she thought to herself. Alice took her time walking back home, half convinced that a meteor may very well strike her down. I should have enough ink in my printer for this paper…her thoughts trailed, as she opened her door, and saw red. There were now six guys, planted in front of her television, playing her video games.

Darryl's head perked up, "Dollface, you're home! Hey, you know your printer is outta ink?"

Alice unleashed in an unholy rage then, screaming for everyone to get the fuck out of her apartment. Even going as far as punching one of the guys in the side of the head, after he muttered, "Bitches be trippin', yo." A string of obscenities, in her parents' native tongue, left her mouth - sounding very much like how her morning started.
**********
After a very reluctant trip to Kinko's, and parking her car haphazardly in the faculty lot, she now found herself standing before Professor Dalton, paper in hand, and chest heaving like she had just run a marathon. The waft of whiskey filled her nostrils before she realized the man before her was holding an open bottle.

Both of them looked like they had gone to Hell and back. They eyed each other, almost daring the other to cross the threshold, and fall victim to the pent up frustrations of their day.

Alice knew she looked like shit: faded jeans, well-worn Chuck's, tank top with a light weight hoodie that had seen better days. Her blue hair carelessly tied in a side ponytail that fell in front of her shoulder. She swallowed and spoke first, "I'm Alessandra Milatovich. I'm in your 4 o'clock class, and I'm here to turn in my paper."

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

The office door pounded against the door stop and rebounded back toward Thomas who managed to raise his arm up in time to block it, jarring the bottle of whiskey in his hand, spilling some of its contents onto his hand. The professor was aware that his frustration and his anger was written plainly on his face, he could it see it in the eyes of the blue haired girl standing in front of him. He doubted she had expected to show up at her professor's office only to be confronted by a red faced, inebriated man who bore no resemblance to the mild mannered, well dressed, utterly composed man that she was used to seeing in the classroom.

Then again, Thomas hadn't expected to find one of his female students standing at his door looking quite so haggard. It was not uncommon for him to have late night visits from some of his female students, in fact, he often encouraged it, however subtly, but normally when they came for a visit they were dressed to impress, hoping perhaps that a bit of flirting might result in a better grade. Clearly, Ms. Milatovich wasn't trying to impress anyone in her hoodie and faded jeans, her wild hair barely contained in a ponytail.

After a long moment, Thomas turned away from the young woman and started back toward his desk. "Come in, miss. Have a seat," his voice was commanding even with the slight slurring of his words. He sat the liquor bottle on the corner of the desk and slumped down into his chair, finally looking up toward the female student.

"You certainly are cutting it close, aren't you?" the professor asked, judgment evident in his tone. "Let me guess, you've been busy with your sorority or your boyfriend or your part time job at the ice cream parlor?" As he waited to see what the blue haired girl would do, and say, Thomas poured himself another shot, studying her with his eyes. She may have shown up looking tired and like she dressed in the dark, but she was attractive, strikingly so, he thought as he sat back, the shot glass in his hand.

 

[TheOneThatGotAway]

Alice raised her brows as her inebriated professor invited her in. His notable levels of anger and frustration, rolling off of him in waves, and inadvertently, feeding her own. The young student took in the surroundings of his office, as he directed her to take a seat. She eyed him warily, as he slumped in his seat across the desk from her.

"You certainly are cutting it close, aren't you?" the professor asked, judgment evident in his tone. "Let me guess, you've been busy with your sorority or your boyfriend or your part time job at the ice cream parlor?"

She chuckled a bit, before pressing her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and reminded herself to breathe. Only then did she allow herself to look at him, and smile - which was more of a baring of teeth, really. "Well, Professor, you did say 'until 9:00 PM,'" the blue haired girl pointedly pressed her paper onto his desk, and slid it towards him.

Alice continued, "and, to answer your questions: I'm not part of a sorority, I don't have a boyfriend, and I work at a bakery. Not that it's any of your business. Sir." The last word dripping vitriol as she took in his rakish appearance. Her own judgement of his unprofessionalism showing through her eyes.

She watched carefully, as Professor Dalton finished pouring the shot in his hand. In an impulsive act of spite, she lunged on his desk, and seized it. "Mm, why thank you. Budmo!", the young student toasted, before downing the shot. Her devil-be-damned grin melted into a wince as the whiskey burned down her throat, and warmed her chest. She shook her head, and let out a throaty exhalation of breath.

With liquid courage coursing through her, Alice slammed the shot glass on his desk before taking her seat again. "Last time I checked, Professor, this was a dry campus. Must exclude faculty, huh?" She gazed at the shattered phone, and ripped phone jack, before meeting his eyes challengingly, "Let me guess. Lovely chat with the boss? Or perhaps the missus?"

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

The professor made no attempt to hide his amusement at Alice's reaction, a sly grin and a twinkle in his eye making it clear that he found her rather raw response to be humorous. It was rather rare for one of Dalton's students to stand up to him, let alone be borderline rude to him, at least to his face. As a professor, the power he held over students afforded him a certain respect, if not fear, and Thomas had cultivated a reputation as something of a hard ass, which made it less common still that a student would risk the potential backlash by giving him attitude.

Maybe it was simply the alcohol, but Thomas suddenly found himself liking this girl, this Alessandra Milatovich, with her blue hair and her smart mouth. The truth was he'd had his share of vapid, smiling coeds trying desperately to stroke his ego, while having absolutely no idea how to truly do so. It was refreshing to have someone who spoke their mind without thinking of how it might affect their grade.

And she was certainly pleasing to the eyes, even with the wild hair and frumpy clothes, Thomas thought as he let his eyes trail down to her chest. Her breasts were mostly hidden by the hoodie that she wore, but there was a hint of cleavage peaking out from her tank top, enough of a hint to cause the professor to let his gaze linger there longer than was appropriate.

Thomas was about to respond to Alice when suddenly the girl lunged onto his desk and snatched the full shot glass from his hand, spilling a few drops onto the paperwork in front of him, and downing the rest in a single, quick swallow. The smile never slipped from the professor's face, not even for a moment, and yet, in that moment as the college girl slammed the shot glass down and sat back into the chair, Dalton's eyes changed, the amused twinkle fading to a cold, hard stare.
If there was one thing Thomas didn't tolerate, it was being made a fool. He was not a man who handled condescension or disrespect well, be it from the Dean, or from his wife, or from Alessandra Milatovich.

"Let me guess. Lovely chat with the boss? Or perhaps the missus?" the blue haired girl commented as she glanced over at the displaced phone laying on the floor.

It wasn't what she said that suddenly left Thomas feeling enraged, so much as the way she said it, and most of all, the way her eyes met his as if daring him to say something...to do something. It was the same look that Beth gave him for so many years when they would argue. The professor could feel the smile slipping from his face. He could feel his ears and neck heating up, turning red. He could feel his head pounding.

With a great deal of effort, Dalton kept his voice calm and even, if a bit cold, "You seem to have an interesting, if ineffective strategy for achieving a passing grade in my class. It is fair to assume from the fact that you showed up here at 8:45, just 15 minutes before the deadline because passing my class is important to you, correct?"

"Don't bother to answer, you're likely to put your foot in your mouth if you open it again," he said before she could respond. He held her gaze for a moment before reaching forward and pouring himself another shot and drinking it. "Speaking of feet, perhaps we got off on the wrong one, Miss Milatovich. Let's start again."

"You've come to my office to turn in your assignment at a few minutes before 9:00 pm, despite the fact that I clearly stated in class that the assignment had to be turned in no later than 8:00," Thomas stated. It was a lie, and they both knew it. "I am willing to entertain the possibility of accepting your assignment beyond the deadline, if you'd like to explain why you are late and beg my indulgence."

"Would you like to beg me, Alessandra?"

 

[TheOneThatGotAway]

The Cheshire Cat had absolutely nothing on the smug grin that Alessandra wore, when she noticed she had gotten under Professor Dalton's skin. Good, pretentious bastard can stand to be taken down a notch or two, anyhow, Alice justified. She usually held more respect for her teachers, and those in authority, but the way he had made presumptions about her character - especially with the day she had undergone - simply acted as the lit match, thrown on the gasoline.

Alice noticed the air between them seemed to shift, after she fired off her own biting remarks on his person. His eyes turning cold as she eyed him rebelliously, and his voice taking a tone, much too calm, for her comfort. A crack in the veneer of the young girl's bravado, presented itself in the form of a minute flinch, as the professor reminded her of the reality of passing his class.

The muscles in her jaw tightened, as she re-assessed her situation. Her student loans were dependent on her status as a full-time student, and she was already taking the minimum amount of credits, in order to balance her work hours and time for homework. She could look into dropping and switching, but as long as she was in his class, failing wasn't an option.

As the blue haired girl considered apologizing, all thoughts of professing mea culpa fled when he dismissed her from further responding. Her temper reached the brim, when he stated the blatant lie of the deadline being at 8:00, then boiled right over as he "reasoned" with her. Claiming he would consider accepting her paper, if her explanation was valid enough - like he was doing her a favor. She was practically biting the inside of her cheek, to keep from lashing out.

"Would you like to beg me, Alessandra?" the Professor challenged, with a predatory gaze.

Had the circumstances been different, Alice may have allowed herself to be turned on by the sexual underlinings of his request. Maybe even dwell on his classically handsome features, and the way her name rolled off his tongue. However, as it was, she wanted nothing more than to put him in his place.

Standing up, she pressed her palms onto his desk and leaned forward, accentuating the cleavage beneath her tank top. Her eyes downcast as she schooled her voice into one of suppliance. Her accent, while typically faint during everyday conversation, made its way to the surface; as it often did, when she was fired up. Or aroused. "Please, Professor, I can't afford to fail your class. I'm desperate." The young student let the words hang, as she reached over and poured another shot of whiskey. "I'll do anything to pass your course, sir. Anything."

Alice let a few beats pass before she met his gaze again, and allowed the mischievous glint in her eyes to appear. She smirked, and continued in her voice's normal tone, "Is that what you were hoping to hear?" Taking his shot glass in one hand, and her phone in the other, she smiled and turned her back towards him as she snapped a photo of them.

Retaking her seat, she flashed him the captured image: an underage girl with alcohol, in the her professor's office. His name clearly visible on the plaque behind him. Satisfied with her newly acquired piece of leverage, she quickly pocketed her phone, and went on, "Social media, quite the powerful thing, you know?" Alice figured he could read between the lines of that remark, and continued. "Listen," her voice now carrying a semblance of truth, "I've had quite the shit day, and from the looks of it, you have too. Now, we can continue this exchange, all night long, about how you hold the power to pass or fail me, and how I can tarnish your professional image with one photo, or," she paused for effect. "We can call this a draw: You accept my paper, which by the way, made your extended deadline, and the photo disappears. Quid pro quo. Tit for tat."

Alessandra crossed her jean-clad legs, and folded her hands in her lap. A teasing smile playing along her lips, "What do you say, Professor?"

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

As Thomas stared at the attractive young student leaning over his desk, he found himself pondering just how many similarly attractive young women had stood in that same spot, having uttered those same words as they attempted to secure a needed grade from the professor. A dozen maybe, two dozen. Blondes, brunettes, redheads. Tall and slender, short and petite, busty, athletic, curvy. So many, all the same, each different. And each and everyone had walked out having secured what they'd come for, but only after Dalton had exacted his price.

The price varied depending on the girl, and depending on the professor's mood. Some had given all they had to assure their academic standing, many right there on the same desk that Alice was leaning over. Others had left with most of their dignity intact, though rarely with all.

Dalton was still feeling somewhat nostalgic as he let his gaze linger on the blue haired coed's breasts which were accentuated well by her current position, her arms pushing them together, and her tank top cut low enough to display a large amount of flesh. Unfortunately, the moment didn't last. Nor did it evolve from there to its next logical step as the professor had expected. Instead it became clear that sassy little Miss Milatovich wasn't going to be quite as easy as some of the other girls who had come to visit him over the years.

He squinted and turned his eyes away from the flash of the camera but realized too late what the student had managed to do. Clever girl, he thought.

"We can call this a draw: You accept my paper, which by the way, made your extended deadline, and the photo disappears. Quid pro quo. Tit for tat," Alessandra suggested as she sat back down. "What do you say, Professor?"

Thomas studied the sophomore for an extended moment before finally responding by repeating her own words, "Tit for tat, you say? Tit for tat..." As he feigned at considering her offer, the professor repeated the phrase several times, each time emphasizing the word 'tit', and each time he did, Thomas let his gaze drop down to the blue haired girl's chest deliberately.

"Very well, Miss Milatovich," he finally agreed. "You delete the picture from your phone, now, in front of me and I will accept you paper. I'll even write you a letter of receipt indicating that it was turned in prior to the deadline. That will suffice for your purposes, will it not?"

 

[TheOneThatGotAway]

"Tit...for tat," the professor continued to repeat.

Alessandra simply smiled, as she met his eyes defiantly. Stare all you want, Professor. This photo will spread like wildfire, and the school's PR department won't be able to keep up. The young teen was used to men and women looking at her, and commenting on her beauty - anything from friendly compliments to lewd observations. At times, she even used it to her advantage, to get what she wanted. However, if there was one thing she absolutely hated, it was when people assumed that her looks hid a weak will or lack of intelligence.

"Very well, Miss Milatovich," he finally agreed. "You delete the picture from your phone, now, in front of me and I will accept you paper. I'll even write you a letter of receipt indicating that it was turned in prior to the deadline. That will suffice for your purposes, will it not?"

Alice raised her brows, "Written proof of how I was indeed right? How could I refuse?" She held her phone up with her finger poised on the 'Delete' button, as he scrawled on a piece of paper. When he finished writing and held the letter up, she stood to take it, only to see that he still had a firm grip on her receipt, and was pointedly looking at her phone. The young student grinned, and hit 'Delete' as he released her letter of proof.

"Pleasure doing business with you," she said smugly as she pocketed the piece of paper, and headed toward the door; sashaying her hips in a 'victory walk'. Twisting the doorknob, she flashed him one last wicked smile before leaving, "Enjoy reading my paper, Professor."

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

As the attractive young sophomore exited the office, clearly feeling triumphant like few others who tangled with Professor Dalton did, Thomas couldn't help but feel as though they were both winners. The clever student had managed to get out with her self-respect intact and with her assignment officially accepted, while Thomas had managed to get his mind off of his conversations with the Dean and his soon to be ex-wife. Alessandra Milatovich was indeed a surprisingly pleasant little distraction, and one that the professor was in no way finished with, he decided as he glanced at the cover sheet on her paper.

The reading of the paper that she'd brought to him waited for the next day when he was sober. It was reflective in many ways of the girl's personality, or at least the parts that Thomas had experienced. She was clever and quick and a bit unrestrained. Her paper was easily the most interesting of the lot, though the mental images of her hips swaying from side to side and her breasts spilling forward, straining against her tank top may have admittedly heightened the experience. In the end though, as in life, she went too far and had far too little ground to stand on for several of her arguments. It was a worthy effort, likely to receive a B- were it any other student. But this wasn't any other student, this was the blue-haired, smart mouthed, camera wielding, Alessandra Milatovich. Which meant this was a D+ at best.

As Dalton wrote the grade at the top of the paper in bright, bold red ink, he smiled, imagining not her breasts, nor her buttocks, but rather the look on her face when she received her paper back. Fortunately, the professor didn't have to wait too long. Two days later the class met again.

"Please remember, that if you scored less than a C- on your assignment you will need to sign up for a private meeting with me at my office to discuss your performance and review for the midterm exam," Thomas announced as the end of class neared. A stack of the aforementioned papers in his hands, the professor began to circulate through the room passing the assignments out to the students.

"The sign up sheet for the office meetings is on my desk," he added as he approached Alice's desk and handed her the assignment before returning to his desk.

"Dismissed," he said, triggering a mass exodus of the lecture hall.

 

[TheOneThatGotAway]

Alice had walked into Professor Dalton's class, unnerved by the results of her appointment with the Student Advising Office. Her plan to drop Philosophy and switch to another course (and another teacher), failed when she found out there were no longer any available openings in the other Liberal Arts courses. Which meant, in order to keep her loans intact, she had to finish the semester with the pompous alcoholic. And, most importantly, pass his class. Damn it.

The young student was so distracted with the possibilities of her last assignment's grade, that she found it difficult to focus on the professor's presentation. Non-sensical words and doodles began to take over her notes, until finally, he started handing back the students' graded papers.

The blue-haired girl watched him warily as he explained that students with lower than a C- had to set up a meeting with him, to discuss class performance. "The sign up sheet for the office meetings is on my desk," he added as he approached Alice's desk and handed her graded assignment. She arched a single brow as she met his brief gaze skeptically.

Alessandra couldn't hold back the scoff of appalled shock that escaped her mouth as she unfolded her paper. An obnoxiously large "D+" was scrawled and circled in bright, bold, red ink. She stared daggers at the professor's retreating back before flipping through her paper's feedback. Professor Dalton's written comments were more like taunts than constructive criticism. The young teen immediately regretted deleting the compromising photo she had taken. Asshole.

"Dismissed."

With that single word, the class began to mill towards the exit; a small line forming in front of the professor's desk. Fuck that, Alice thought. Without so much as a glance towards her teacher, she stalked towards the door, on a clear mission. Beyond annoyed, she weaved in and out of the crowd, and found her way back to Professor Dalton's office.

Extending her hand, she tested the knob, and smiled as she realized the professor had left the door unlocked. When the hallway cleared, the young teen slipped inside, and carefully shut the door behind her. The sun's late evening rays spilled through the window blinds, casting the room in a orange glow with stark shadows.

Throwing her book bag unceremoniously on his desk, the blue-haired girl plopped onto the professor's grandiose leather chair, and swung her booted feet onto the table top. The skirt of her svelte, cotton dress sliding up to mid-thigh, as she did so. Taking out her phone, Alice decided to amuse herself with random games, while she waited for the man who deemed her work poor enough to require a one-on-one meeting.

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

When the last of the students that had stayed behind finally exited the lecture hall, Professor Dalton's first reaction was anger, raw unadulterated anger directed at one Ms. Alessandra Milatovich. All morning he had been waiting to see the look of frustration and irritation, perhaps even defiance, that he expected would adorn the young woman's face after she saw her graded assignment. And she had denied him that opportunity.

Thomas' frustrations slowly ebbed though, and by the time he'd packed up his things and stepped out of the building to make the short trek to his office, he was actually smiling. He realized not only that the little blue-haired bitch was probably too upset to stick around and make an appointment, but also that she had failed to comply with the requirement that he had announced in front of the entire class. Which meant, he had an excuse to punish her. Not that he truly needed an excuse, but considering the young woman had already threatened to blackmail him once, having something on her couldn't hurt.

Dalton was already aware that Alice had inquired about dropping his class and had been informed that all possible alternative classes were full, thanks to a friend in the advisory office. The thought of her frustration was almost enough to arouse him. He knew she needed his class, a very important piece of information under the circumstances.

As the professor reached for the knob on his office door, he happened to glance up and catch a shadow of movement from inside the office. Someone was in his office without his permission, he realized, and he had one guess as to who that might be. If it was indeed Miss Milatovich, then Thomas realized she was probably waiting there to ambush him. He silently patted himself on the back for having the foresight to remove all of the alcohol from his office after their last encounter. A clever girl like Alice wasn't likely going to go to the same well more than once, but you could never be too careful.

Glancing around, the professor noticed one of his colleagues exiting a nearby office and quickly decided on a course of action.

"Gavin, how are you?" he asked of the short, stout man approaching from down the hall.

"As good as ever, Thomas. And you?" the other man responded with a wave as he drew near, shuffling some books and papers under his arm.

"I could be better," Professor Dalton commented. "I have something in my office that I've been meaning to give to you for months. Do you have a moment?"

"Of course," Gavin replied, a curious look on his face.

"It'll just take a minute," Thomas assured the other professor as he once again reached for the door knob. "Come on in."

Thomas pushed the office door open and stepped in quickly, clearing the doorway so that his colleague would have a clear view of his unexpected visitor who was sitting at his desk, in his chair, her feet up on his desk.

"Uh...hello...miss...Milatovich, is it? I hadn't realized I'd left my office unlocked," Thomas said, not only pretending to be surprised by her presence, but also pretending not to remember the girl's name. "Is there something I can help you with?"

As the professor waited for his student's response, he couldn't help but take a moment to appreciate the way her dress hugged her ample breasts and at the same time revealed a significant amount of her bare legs.

 

[TheOneThatGotAway]

Alessandra's smirk melted into a sneer. Her jaw clenching as she saw the door open to not only Professor Dalton, but Professor Lawrence as well. The young student had prepared herself for her teacher's bewilderment and frustration; even delighted in envisioning his temper flare at the sight of her sitting oh-so-casually at his desk. She had not, however, anticipated another party joining his presence.

"Uh...hello...miss...Milatovich, is it? I hadn't realized I'd left my office unlocked. Is there something I can help you with?" the professor asked all too innocently. Well, if that's the game we're playing... Alice thought to herself, as she subtly scraped her boots together on his desk. The dirt and debris of her soles, cascading onto his tabletop.

Barely missing a beat, the teenager pasted on her brightest smile and bounded towards the two teachers. "Yes, that's right! Alessandra, or Alice for short. C'mon, you remember, your 4 o'clock, Intro class? I wanted to talk to you about my last paper, and thought I'd meet you in your office," Alice added a giggle and beamed towards the shorter gentleman. "Oh! You're Professor Lawrence, yes? I've heard great things about you from my classmates," the blue-haired girl shook the stout man's hand a little too excitedly. Selling the image of being just another air-headed coed.

She turned her attention back to her Philosophy teacher, "Truly, you haven't forgotten all about me, Professor?" Her eyes betraying her bubbly demeanor as she pointedly gazed at him. "I mean, I know you're older and all, but you shouldn't have Alzheimer's yet, right? Class ended less than an hour ago, and I was just in your office last week," Alice grinned, with her last Alzheimer's-comment earning her a slight chuckle from Dalton's colleague.

"Oh! Speaking of last week. Professor Lawrence, I took this photo that you just have to see. You totally won't believe your eyes when I show this to you!" The corners of the young girl's mouth curving up into a mischievous smile as she finger-swiped through her smartphone's photo gallery. The incriminating photo was indeed deleted, but Professor Dalton couldn't know that for sure. Alice revelled in quiet glory, as she watched the shift in her professor's composure; his body tensing and his eyes narrowing as he regarded her bluff.

"Look'see! Check this out. My parents' tabby cat. He's HUGE! Like, 14 lbs or something! Isn't that crazy!?" the teenager asked enthusiastically.

Professor Lawrence cleared his throat, "Ah, yes…that's quite…interesting."

Alessandra continued, while keeping her eyes on Professor Dalton, "I have another picture that's sooo much better, but I accidentally deleted it. Do you think the school's IT department would be able to help me with retrieving it? Like, data recovery?"

The stout gentleman shrugged at the seemingly innocent question, "It wouldn't hurt to make an inquiry, and if they're unable retrieve the data, they should be able to refer you to someone who can."

"Oh, that's perfect! Thanks Professor Lawrence, you're totes the best!!" she nearly squealed as she hugged him. "Well, I won't hold you two. Looks like I'm heading over to the IT department," Alessandra paused and smiled, "unless, you have time to discuss my paper, Professor Dalton?"

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

Though Professor Dalton watched Alice's performance through clenched teeth, he couldn't help but admire the young woman. She was quick on her feet, and she seemed to have no fear. The fake smile on his face was slowly replaced by a genuine one as he thought about how much he was going to enjoy putting her in her place. We'll see how pleased she is with herself when she's gagging on ten inches of cock, Thomas thought to himself, more than a little pleased with the image that he conjured to mind.

"Oh, I'm sure we can take a few minutes to review your paper, Miss Milatovich," he responded as he moved around his desk and placed his bag down. "I did notice that you struggled a bit with it."

"Gavin, perhaps we can have lunch together next week," Dalton said, turning his attention away from the blue haired student.

"Of course, Thomas, I'll be off," Professor Lawrence responded with a wave, a bemused look on his face as he exited, pulling the door closed behind him.

The professor sat down in his chair, taking a moment to brush the dirt and debris from his desk, left behind by Alice's boots. Then his eyes, cold and hard lifted to meet his student's gaze, "I should probably put you over my knee and spank your bottom red. You should never enter my office without my knowledge or permission."

 

[TheOneThatGotAway]

"I should probably put you over my knee and spank your bottom red. You should never enter my office without my knowledge or permission." Professor Dalton said sternly, while staring daggers at Alessandra.

Seated in front of him, the young student raised her brows, and responded in mock realization, "Oh, is that what's needed to stay in good academic standing in your class? I'll make sure to share that with the Dean." She grinned, while forcibly ignoring the mental image of her lying astride his lap while he spanked her ass every shade of red. "You know, I wouldn't be here if you had graded my paper fairly." Taking the stapled document from her bag, she slid her report on his desk, "You gave me a 'D+'? Really? I can confidently tell you that my writing is not below the average of the students in your classroom."

Alice straightened her posture, and crossed her legs, "I held my end of our deal, and deleted that photo, while you give me a near failing grade? Quite the dick move, Professor. I really should consider making that trip to the IT department, shouldn't I?"