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"Convenience was more his concern than anything else," Becky noted with a small shrug, picking a bit more at the surprisingly filling plateful of food before her. Between that and the wine, she was certain she had managed to overdo it for the evening. Her appetite for both eating and a drink had been so heavy thanks to the work they had done, but now with time for it all to settle in...

She smiled at him lazily as he commented on her father's former line of work. "Nearly 30 years," She noted with a nod, picking up her glass once again.Had he refilled that? She hadn't seen him do it at any point, but that certainly looked to be more in that glass. She sipped at it, nodding again. That seemed to be among the two different extremes when she mentioned her father's former line of work; either a mentioning of how much someone respected the uniform, or how much they were intimidated by a cop.Either way, she understood. She had seen the man at both ends of the spectrum. An officer with a duty to protect, and what that same office could do when he needed to do so.

The comment on the handcuffs, however, nearly made her spit her wine. She choked it down quickly, feeling her face redden as she picked up her napkin and wiped her lips. "Bad students, huh?," She asked with an attempt at humor, though the sound of her own voice made her wonder if it had just cracked a bit. Oh god.

Finishing up what she could of the food, she gave a soft sigh, setting down her fork. "That was amazing, sir. Absolutely amazing. Thank you so much." She shook her head as he asked if there was anything else she would like. "Oh, no, no thank you! That was far more than enough..." A quick glance was given towards the clock on his microwave, her brows shooting up. "Wow. We really have been busy for awhile, haven't we? Good thing it's not a school night." She laughed a little at that, glancing back at him. "So what would you like to do now, sir? Any other projects that you would like a hand with?" She started to reach for her purse hanging from the back of the chair,talking as she continued. "I'll just give the cab company a quick call if we're all set here... Make sure they can get me before it gets too dark."
 
The 'innocent' smile stayed on his face while she sputtered at his handcuffs comment; he could imagine certain images playing in her mind. Similiar ones to what were playing in his. Becky shook her head to his question. "Oh, no, no thank you! That was far more than enough..."

"If you say so." He smiled. He followed her eyes towards the microwave, seeing her expression change when she saw the time.

"Wow. We really have been busy for awhile, haven't we? Good thing it's not a school night." Becky laughed as she looked back at him.

"I'm grateful for that, too....it's been a long week." The silence lingered for a moment, comfortable and uneasy at the same time. "So what would you like to do now, sir? Any other projects that you would like a hand with?" She reached for her purse.. "I'll just give the cab company a quick call if we're all set here... Make sure they can get me before it gets too dark."

"Let's finish the tour first." He stood up, watching her with her phone hesitantly, and added a bit of steel to his voice. "It won't take too long, and it'll be easy enough for you to call a cab after we're done." The latter part of that statement was definitely not a lie; but the first one was. It was as if he was reassuring a failing student; convincing himself that the lie wasn't there, or tangible enough to matter. His face had the same, welcoming expression as he added the final line. "You do want to be polite, don't you?" What was mistaken as calm in his voice sounded like deadness to him as he led her into the kitchen.

"This is my backyard...or at least what the landlord calls one." A threadbare patch of grass, clearly not cared for by any of its previous tenants, showed itself to be sick and dying even in the dim light of the fall evening. "I might put a fire pit in there, assuming I'm here that long..." He chuckled mirthlessly. "I'll let you take my word for the fact that it's nothing remarkable."

"Just one more thing to see." His eyes lit up, ever so slightly, although not why she thought they were. "I actually keep something somewhat interesting down in my basement..." He led her towards a door that had been closed all night, opening it slowly, letting her walk in front of him. He wanted to admire her, but he also wanted her to get a sense of the atmosphere of the barren room downstairs.

It wasn't that much colder then upstairs - it was still late summer/early fall, after all - but the temperature change was pronounced, and he could feel his arms tense slightly as they moved into a much more temperate part of the house. The air was still a the slightest bit musty, and he let her walk down the wooden stairs slowly, getting her bearings in her shoes. When they reached the bottom, the sounds of feet hitting the concrete floor, Adam pulled the first pullstring for a light switch.

The sound echoed through the basement as a dim light blanketed the area. In the far corner stood his punching bag.

"I don't think I"ll ever be here long enough to do much down here...this will be my storage and...venting space." He motioned her towards his punching bag, and his arm muscles tensed as if they expected him to start a sparring session, which he obliged with a small tap on it, and the bag barely moved as it hung from the rafters. "I know this might be a hard image to imagine, but I use this almost every day." He hoped he didn't need to elaborate as to why, and he pulled another pullstring, lighting another single bulb just to the left of the bag.

Adam let her get distracted by that, as he moved towards some boxes in a corner nearby. "Some days I have a lot of frustration to work out...especially lately." He leaned behind the boxes, reaching for a familiar black bag that rested behind them, and pulled it out. "But I'm hoping to find other ways to calm myself down." He held the bag unthreateningly at his side, but stopped when he saw her reaction to it.

She doesn't know what's in here, does she? Adam looked at her as he gently maneuvered himself towards the stairwell, blocking her only chance at retreat, the air seeming to chill even more as a realization set in for him, that there was no turning back.
 
Becky hesitated as he looked at her, his voice becoming a bit stern as he told her to wait on calling the cab. "Um. Right. I suppose that can wait. I was just- I didn't want to have them trying to find the place with it too dark out, and...." She paused, looking back to the table at the comment on manners and frowning. "I didn't mean to come off as rude, sir. Sorry..." She set the phone down on the table, getting up from the table as he started to the back door, indicating the yard. Standing beside him to peer out at the poorly treated lawn, she frowned, nodding a little. "I could see how you'd want to do something a bit nicer out there. It's not exactly calling for a backyard barbeque at any point..."

She glanced over at him curiously at the mention of something interesting in his basement. She wondered if he had a hidden side talent. Like a wonderful way with art or something. That hidden down in the cellar was a wondrous art studio, works he kept hidden away from others and was now willing to share with her. Had she finally regained his trust? "I'd love to see, Professor!," She agreed happily, following him to the side door that he unlocked and opened for her, guiding her to go first. It was a touch darker than she expected, clutching the rail beside her as a slight sudden chill ran over her skin, prickling the hair on the back of her neck slightly. Boy, if anyone ever wanted to do a horror flick for the film class, maybe they should talk to him on a setting in this place. Certainly had the creepy feel down pat.

He clicked on the exposed bulb above them with a simple tug of the pull chain, Becky blinking a little to adjust to the sudden glow as he stepped aside, explaining the room's use. His exercise equipment? Some more storage bins? A slight touch of disappointment lingered in the back of her mind over the whole hidden art talent being a flop, but tried to not let it show through. Instead, she simply peered over at the bag, noticing how easily it swayed from the jab he gave it. "I've never used one of those before," She admitted, glancing at him as he spoke of how often he used it. She reached out to stop the swaying bag as he turned away, surprised at the weight of it. Giving it a little push, she frowned over the realization on his increased use of the thing.

"Whatever helps you to feel better, sir," Becky noted softly, stopping the bag again. "Sometimes it can be something others find strange, or that they say is a horrible way to deal with frustration- but I say, whatever works for you... As long as it works, then keep doing it." She started to turn, to look at him, pausing as she saw the duffelbag in his hand.

She knew that bag.
She wasn't sure on what was in it, but she knew she had seen it before.
She had seen what. What was on top of it.

Becky slowly looked back to his face, swallowing softly. "More.. More equipment, sir?," She asked gently, her eyes following him as he moved to the steps. Equipment? The gag she had seen, the movie upstairs- No, she had to be overreacting. She had to be over analyzing this.
Then why was she suddenly getting a touch scared?

"Professor, I think I should get back to my dorm...," She started softly, but found that her legs refused to move.
 
The moment passed slowly, the air thickening as he saw the fear on her face as she spoke. "More.. More equipment, sir?," Adam saw her gaze follow him as he moved to block her way up the steps, slowly tensing, seeing her focus on the bag on his hands, finally realizing why. She knows. His only response to that was to smile, but not in a way anyone would every find comfortable. The smile of a predator, seeing the look in their prey's eyes when they were trapped, with nowhere to run. He was figuring out things about himself right now, and he wondered what he'd do if she ran. If he wanted her to try to run.

"Professor, I think I should get back to my dorm...," The words sounded even less convincing to him then they likely did to her, and he unzipped the bag, fishing out for one item, his eyes alternating between her increasingly fearful looks, and to find what he was looking for.

"Well, yes you should, Becky." The calm in his voice was almost a deadly calm now, like someone resigned to death. "Get back to your dorm. Finish off such a pleasant evening. Of us being helpful, grateful, happy, generous....all those wonderful, uplifting things." Having found what he was looking for, he let the bag flop on the floor beside him, letting several items spill out carelessly with the top completely unzipped; nipple clamps, vibrators, a couple of butt plugs, a whip and a collar, plus a familiar looking red gag. Adam could have sworn Becky's eyes were drawn to it, but his eyes never left hers as he continued. "But that's not what's going to happen."

He moved around to back her into the punching bag; it hung from a suspended chain from the ceiling, and Adam let the cuffs jingle in his hands, enjoying the sound of them and what it would mean to his student. He moved in closer to her, reaching above her to pull the punching bag off of the chain, letting it flop heavily to the floor behind her. It would be easy enough to put it back on later, but he needed the chain it was suspended from for something else. Adam grabbed one of her arms roughly, taking a moment to squeeze and feel her smooth skin, gently tracing up and down her arms before yanking both of her wrists above her head, threading the cuffs through the suspended chain and forcing her wrists through them.

*click*

Now there was nothing but cold steel around her wrists, and musty, cool air around her. With that, he stepped back, enjoying seeing her stretched out for him, still able to touch the floor, as Adam wondered if he should adjust that, taking his time to examine her, to drink her in for the first time in her dress and shoes....
 
His smile was scary. It wasn't the same smile given by the man who appreciated her help, who she had enjoyed that cup of coffee with last week. This didn't seem the same man at all. His lips twisted to a smirk, but certainly nothing that called her to come closer, that told her that everything was fine. Becky was shaking now, the color from her skin slowly draining away. She wanted to run. "Professor, please... This- This isn't funny...," She stated softly, looking between him as he dug into his duffel bag, and to the stairs. That exit he stood directly in front of. A path that seemed so far, even standing this close to it.

He agreed about needing to go. That confused her, left her staring at him. The more he spoke, the less she understood. He didn't make sense. Everything that came from his lips seemed to throw her off more, a tone to those words that frightened her even more. If he agreed she should go, then why was he not moving?

The bag dropped to the floor, Becky hesitantly stealing a downward glance to the spilled mess, afraid to leave her eyes off of him for too long. The items that tumbled out- she gave a quick gasp, looking back up quickly to find him staring at her, his final words on the matter of going home nearly bringing her heart to a halt. "Professor, please!", she whimpered out, shaking her head as he started towards her, the newly developed blank look to his face scaring her even more as she stepped back. She wanted to stay out of his way, clear of what he held in his hands. He was making them loud with intention, she could see it in his face, the slight twitch of a smirk upon his lips. A quick yelping sound left her as he reached over her head, ducking slightly, only to hear the heavy punching bag fall to the floor behind her. Starting to straighten back up, she peered over her shoulder, crying out again as he grabbed onto her wrist.

"Sir! Let go! You're hurting me!" She thought her voice was loud, but it felt barely above a hoarse whisper as he guided his firm hands over her skin, running his touch against her arms. She shuddered, looking up to him with fearful eyes as he yanked her wrists up above her. "Stop... Please, please, I want to go home, stop!"

The cuffs clicking caused her to go silent, her eyes wide as she realized what he had just done. She yanked, tugged. Panic. He just stared at her, stepping back and watching her. Becky tried to pull again, grunting at the effort, her arms taut above her head, giving another look back toward him. "I thought... No, no, I thought- Professor, you forgave me, you did-!" She was nearly in tears now, shaking her head as the metal shook above her with the motions. "Tonight was so nice, I don't understand- I don't..." There they went. She lost out against keeping them at bay. "Please, just let me go home..." The cuffs were almost hurting now, pulling against her wrists, held high with the rigging of his punching bag. Her feet still found the floor, barely keeping the balls of her shoes against the cement floor.

He was just. Staring. Studying.
Did he even hear her? His attention was on her, but not with her words. He was. In a different state of mind or something. Focused on her yet oblivious to her.

"I just... I just wanted to make you happy..."
Her voice was weak, frightened, her gaze unsure on staying upon him or avoiding his eyes.
 
He watched as her eyes widened with the cuffs snapping around her wrists, her desperate yanking and tugging only increasing his arousal as she struggled, her mind and body fighting the inevitable, and Adam continued to listen to her cries. "I thought... No, no, I thought- Professor, you forgave me, you did-!" The chains jangled together, her voice continuing to cry out. "Tonight was so nice, I don't understand- I don't..."

"Nobody ever does." replied Adam softly, pacing deliberately around the room. "When the first bad thing happens to a good person...who's done nothing wrong, nothing but try to please someone they love..." His voice broke ever so slightly, as if he was talking about himself while he slowly walked towards her. "...they understand that it's a part of life. That it's not fair." He was behind her now, leaning in to whisper in her ear, pulling her hair back gently. "That life's not fair."

"Please, just let me go home..." He moved back in front of her, seeing how stretched she was, and he lowered the chain mercifully, pulling slightly so that she didn't have to stretch; it was not a move entirely out of mercy, as Becky would see soon. They looked at each other, her desperate eyes contrasting with his cold, pitiless ones.

"Not now." he said softly. "It's too late." He moved to her other side now, his hands tentatively moving around her, as if the weren't sure where to start, shaking as they fought dark, primal urges for something he wanted to draw out, to make her understand what she had done.

"I just... I just wanted to make you happy..."

"Oh Becky." He smiled, leaning to her shoulder as his hands gently felt up and down her bare arms, leaning in to whisper to her again. "You will make me happy." They stopped at her wrists, making sure she was stretched out just right before he went to the fabric of her dress, gently teasing and testing it, tracing where it exposed her bust. "Isn't that what you want?" He gently squeezed her nipples through dress and bra before moving back down her torso with his wandering hands, taking an occasional moment to pinch her belly, loving how she sounded when he touched her.

Adam knelt as his hands reached her hips, pulling them back from her to grab her right foot, his thumbs running over the top of her perfectly manicured feet. He almost hated to dirty them up this way, but it was necessary as he slowly slipped her shoe off of her foot, tossing it aside. "You're going to make me very happy, Becky." The same with the other foot, gentle motions over it before he slipped it off; with her shoes on, she could reach the floor comfortably with his adjustments; but now, her body was taut again before him.

Adam's hands circled her legs, running up her calves and thighs, moving his rough fingers against her smooth skin, exploring her body unwillingly until they got under her skirt, exploring what she was trying to keep private. Eventually, he found what he was looking for, but stopped; now, he wanted to see her eyes as he removed the barriers she was using to hide herself. He stood up, moving back in front of her.

He eyed her dress, wondering how best to remove it....
 
Becky trembled as he moved about her, a frightened little gasp coming out as he spoke into her ear, played with her hair. She didn't understand. Life isn't fair. Was he trying to. To teach her something? Was all that before just... A game?

She cried out again as he reached over her, realizing slowly what he was doing. Letting her down, just a bit. Enough to place her feet flat, her hands still high, motions restricted. His eyes. God. They looked nothing like the man she had admired so much. "Professor...," she whispered out in a broken voice, shaking her head.

Too late? How was it possibly too late? "All you need to do is let me down. Please. I can. I can forget. I swear. I. I won't say anything, I swear to God..." She drew a breath as he stared at her, his gaze so cold now. Did he even hear her anymore? Where had his head gone?

She cringed as he leaned against her, the promise of her still making him happy so disturbing to her ears as he ran those hands against her. Exploring and testing. What was he doing? Becky's lips parted as his fingers found her breasts, grasping at her nipples through the barrier of fabrics, the scared surprised cry leaving her. "D-don't!" He trailed down, the heat of his hands so strange against her, his touch causing her to whimper and shiver.

He crouched, kneeling. This worried her even more, finding it a bit harder to see what he was up to. The sudden grasp of her ankle made her squeal out, the raised heel of her shoe taken away as he tugged off the sandal. The other soon followed, leaving her bare painted toes to rest against the floor, finding the added little inch or so the shoes had given were also part of a forgiving space for the stretch of her body. Without them, she felt the pull a bit more.

His eyes were brought back up into her view, but his gaze was not upon her face. He was studying her again, planning and plotting something. Becky's hands twisted in the cuffs, a light sob leaving her. She still felt him, felt him everywhere he had touched, the feel of his hands against her legs. Her thighs. How he had tried to- to try and touch-

"Why?" It was a simple word, soft and scared, whispered to him as he looked her over. He had praised her, even thanked her. So why was he doing this?
 
He'd heard her struggles, her moans at his touch, her cries of desperation and pleading to let her go. She'd promised not to tell. Begged him not to touch her. And it all fell upon deaf ears. Adam was lost in his world now, not one of a man who'd lost his mind; merely of one clearly set upon a destructive path as he looked at his young, restrained student in front of him. Her arms pulled taut, her legs stretched to the floor with her bare feet barely helping to support her weight. She was so beautiful, so innocent with her shocked, hurt gaze set upon him.

She bucked again, but it was useless; and Adam noted that he would have to be careful how long he kept her up like this. It was one thing to tie someone up, but another entirely to leave too many marks. And she was so pure, so perfect as she was...for a man who usually thought things very much through and through, he was operating very much off the cuff. He knew he enjoyed watching her squirm and struggle, and hearing her plead.

He looked her body up and down, and also knew he wanted her naked. So deciding he'd start with that, he strode up to her slowly, making sure to meet her eyes as much as she let him.

"Why?" she asked pitifully. Adam stopped in consideration, as if it wasn't a question he'd thought about before; as if his anger and despair towards women, and his wife, had blinded him into blaming all women for Catherine's sins. He kept his silent vigil as he moved closer to her, watching her chest heave with her breathing until he was only a few feet away. He could've sworn he could've almost felt her breathing.

"Does it matter?" He asked, as his fingers moved to the top button of her dress. Adam stared at her over the brim of his glasses, making sure he met her gaze before he undid the button, wanting to see her eyes as he slowly removed every barrier of protection she had left. "If it's going to happen anyways..." The same look, his hands fumbling a bit as he refused to guide their actions, wanting to see her eye to eye before he undid another button on her dress, getting off on her fear and desperation.

But if there was something political teachers did well, it was foster useless discussion, and he tried to explain what he himself didn't understand. "You look so much like her." Another button. "Younger then she did, better....." He pulled the lapels of her dress further apart, exposing more of her to him, his hands trembling not from fear, but in power, wonder at what he should do next, gripping the dress in two powerful hands as if considering how easy it would be to just pull it off of her. He hadn't realized how much much he'd worked out to try to ease his frustrations over the past couple of days, at how strong he really was. Adam took a moment to recompose himself, his hands returning to the buttons on her dress as he looked at her, over his glasses.

"..you're nicer then her, too. Then she ever was." His hand fumbled again as another button came off. "But I can't have her. Can't punish her because she's gone now." Adam took a longer moment to look at her, letting the depth of his anger and despair sink in to his young student. "But I can punish you for what she did." With that, he undid the last button on her dress. "And you offered." Even as he said it, he knew it was ridiculous, sounded ridiculous, and wouldn't hold up in a court of law. Luckily, Adam didn't have to convince anyone, and he looked her up and down again, with her dress gaping open....
 
Becky was past frightened now. She was scared to death. This wasn't Professor Tourast any more. This was a man she didn't know, someone she wanted to get away from. His voice even seemed different, his entire demeanor. This man scared the hell out of her, the way he looked at her, the way he spoke, touched. She yanked at the cuffs again as he stepped nearer to her, a whimper in her throat as she stared at him.

"It matters to me," she started, crying out as he reached for the buttons of her dress. "Stop, stop it, please! Professor, you don't- you don't want to do this, you don't-"

His words seemed so set on convincing. Her, or himself? She cringed as he worked further at the buttons, his fingers brushing her skin as he popped them open. He paused a moment, seeming to contemplate something, his hands flexing into the fabric, his eyes deadset upon hers. She swallowed again as he explained, reasonings that seemed to make sense to him.

"I'm not her," Becky reminded him quickly, shaking her head as he continued to speak of the ex she bore such resemblance to, his want to punish the woman who hurt him so. He wanted to make someone take his retribution.

She sobbed again as he stared at her once more, warning her silently of the plans brewing in the man's mind. It wasn't until those words...
Those last words...

Becky felt ill, weak. Offered?
"No... No, I never said- I never told you anything like that, I didn't say..." She trailed off, trying to recall anything that may have-
Help. Anything to make you feel better.
"Oh, god." She was shaking, everywhere, left exposed to him as he took the remains of her covering away by the last button. "You... Took all of that... As..."

She screamed. A loud, piercing shriek, the hardest she could muster. It burned her throat, exhausted her lungs. She panted to refill them as the sound ended, her gaze returning to him through eyes hazed by running mascara. She was tired already- the day, the wine, and now... This.

She couldn't handle this.
"They'll fire you," she whispered. "You can't. You've lost her, don't lose that too. If Doctor Rente finds out about this... I'm not her, professor, Please!"

Trying to plead seemed to get her nowhere. He didn't seem to even hear her, like a bug in his ear. There, but not heavily noticed. She needed a way to make a bite. Perhaps mentioning Rente had done it?
 
Adam watched her sob as she considered his words; of course she hadn't asked him to do this. But even putting it in her mind, that she was even the slightest bit responsible for what was happening to her was enough. To start her down the path from fear, and defiance, to blind, resigned acceptance. A slow, slippery, treacherous path.

"No... No, I never said- I never told you anything like that, I didn't say..."

Adam moved behind her, out of her line of sight, leaning in to her, examining her raised arms. "Are you sure?" he whispered menacingly. Planting that little seed of doubt, that she had a part to play in his deviant desires.

"Oh, god." He watched her shake as her dress fell open, hanging by the sides of her body as he moved in front of her, to take her body in, hidden only by her bra and panties. "You... Took all of that... As..."

The scream came suddenly, and despite himself Adam recoiled, ever so slightly. Seeing the women scream on TV was one thing, having one do so almost right next to him - not right into his ear, thankfully - was another entirely. He wondered if he should pull out the gag ahead of time, but he also knew she probably couldn't scream forever as she stopped, her voice dropping.

"They'll fire you. You can't. You've lost her, don't lose that too. If Doctor Rente finds out about this... I'm not her, professor, Please!" She whispered desperately.

Most of what she said were items he'd prepared for, but hearing his boss's name brought him pause. Briefly. If for no other reason then that she was right about her second statement. Still, he methodically reached behind her body, looking into her eyes coldly as his hands went to her back, undoing the catch on her bra, enjoying the way she was reacting as she realized what he was doing; finally preparing her for what was to come by taking away the last of the barriers hiding her from him.

"If Doctor Rente finds out...what makes you think he'll believe you?" started Adam, dissecting the situation like he had many essays in his day as his hands went to the cuffs around one of her wrists. "I'm a tenured professor at this University." He undid the cuff around her left wrist, one hand holding it above her while the second yanked her arm to her side. "Someone with impeccable credibility and stature." He roughly yanked her bra and dress off of her free arm; now, the items hung off of her other side. "And also someone who'd been accused of this before." He knew how the statement would mislead her; he *had* been accused of inappropriate conduct with a student before, but he'd never been guilty of it, until now.

Adam yanked her now completely bare arm back above her head, recuffing it as his hands moved to her other arm; again, he looked her in the eyes as he uncuffed her other wrist. "Now how do you think people would react..." He pulled her last arm down to her side, letting her dress and bra hang off of her elbow as he had one hand holding the cuffs above her, the other clamped around her wrist. "...if, during the most difficult time in his life, a student, who's attracted to her professor, bought coffee for him, has been trying to help him out..." He slowly pulled her dress and her bra off of her arm entirely, dropping them besides her. Adam wondered if the flush in her cheeks meant that she had been attracted to him, or if this was another twist in the lie. "...accused him of something outlandish, like trying her up in his basement..." He let his hand run up her bare arm again as he recuffed her right arm. "...whipping her, spanking her, ..." Adam let those thoughts run through her head as he resisted the urge to finally touch her, although the bank of his hand did 'accidentally' brush against her bare nipples, the cooler basement air hardening them for what was to come. "...touching her, stripping her completely naked." His hands went to the side of her panties, the one last thing she had on as he looked up at her.

"They won't believe you, Becky. It'll be your word against mine." With impatience he hadn't shown for this entire ordeal, he ripped her panties down her legs savagely, throwing them across the basement as his anger showed through again. "And you'd best not test out whether your word will count for anything." Finally letting his guard down, taking her body in all of her nude glory, he lustfully took Becky in, not hiding his desire for her as he reached behind him; he couldn't have her screaming."Unless you want to be punished further."

Adam let her see the toy he had for her; the familiar red gag, although he had no idea how familiar. "Sorry, Becky. While I enjoy you moaning and yelling, it is a bit loud." He smirked as he grabbed her hair savagely to hold her in place while he pressed the gag into her mouth, tying it behind her head. "Especially when we're this close." With her complaints quieted, he finally let himself relax, and he encircled her wrists with his hands.

He slowly ran his hands down her arms, no more clothing in the way as he looked her up and down. "Perfect." He breathed, as he moved down her shoulders, around her neck, and up the sides of her face. He laced his fingers through her hair, testing its resistance for later as he felt her back muscles, her skin, stopping above her ass as he moved to her belly. He ran this thumbs up the middle of her body, gently tracing a path around her breasts. Obviously this was anything but consensual, but there were some things a woman's body would always respond to, and Adam was taking a mental note of what Becky was responding to.

He pulled his hands back but pushed his left knee between her legs, spreading her open for him; wanting her to feel more then just his hands on her as he cupped her ass. His left hand suddenly grabbed a hold of one of her breasts, squeezing and manipulating it while his other hand made its way to her center, a solitary finger working inside of her while his other hand crushed and mauled her breast, squeezing her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Many rounds of sparring had made his hands rough, and women tended to love or hate the feeling. Becky's reactions to it, at least for the moment, were making her thoughts on it unclear.

Although maybe that was the gag.
 
Something she had said clicked a switch there, she saw it- the momentary glimmer of fear in his eyes. He felt fear. He could actually feel it too. It paused him long enough for the words to register, his hands still continuing on after the brief hesitation. Becky gave a sound of frustration, trying to figure out which part of the blurt she had given had the most effect.

It was too hard to think with that stare, set directly into her eyes. A man who no longer cared. His fingers easily slipped against the clasps of her bra, the student's eyes widening as he let the pieces fall. "Please don't...," She whispered out again, knowing she was no longer attempting rationalization with a man in his right mind.

His response threw her off. Reasonings on how he believed he could get away with this. Words uttered like a lecture, a part of his class, as he worked to remove the rest of her clothing. A sharp gasp left her as he pulled her arm down, yanking away the strap before forcing her arm back up, continuing to speak. Distracting her with words. His good graces with the Head of the Department. But it was his last words that caused her eyes to widen in shock.

Previous accusations?

More words. Accusations back to her. How evil she would seem, how her attempts at kindness and a helping hand coming off as ulterior motives to harm her professor. To use her professor. She paled at that, shaking her head. "But- but that's not true, that's not what I was- I was trying to help you! I was trying to- to..."

Her words were lost to a sudden groan, a sound that gave in to the futility of arguing with him. She had found him attractive, but... but never anything to this level...

She shuddered as he took the remainder of her dress from her, leaving her to just her panties as she stood before him. Her eyes started to drift to the floor, snapping back up in sudden shock as he continued with his words. Accusations of what? "Professor-," She started quickly, a tiny moan coming from her lips as he let his knuckle come across her breast. She immediately hated herself for the sound, glaring at him once more as he reached for the hem of her panties.

A warning. A threat, that's what it was. He was threatening her-! She started to speak, only to cry out in shock as he tore her panties free from her, tossing them carelessly aside. She stared at him, horrified, gasping softly for breath as she came to grips with what he had done. What he intended to do. She watched with fear as he reached off behind him, looking for something.

The red ball.
The gag.

She panicked then, starting to tug against the cuffs. "No! No, keep that thing away from me, don't you-" A shriek started out as he apologized, grasping her head once more and yanking her head into place for him. She tried to fight the ball pressing between her lips, attempting to shake her head, to rip away from him. He continued to push, whispering to her as he did so, finally getting it to clasp about her head. Becky whined against it, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it inside her ears.

He touched her, her eyes closing tightly. Traced her arms, her upper body, with his palms, his fingertips. She shuddered, her breathing growing heavier, more frightened as he moved. A tiny whimper pushed into the ball as he continued his run down her skin, stiffening, shivering. Like braille was upon her flesh. Her brows pushed together as he traced up to her breasts, trying to shake her head, the whine growing louder as he played a path against them. Backed away. She started to open her eyes, screaming out into the gag as his knee forced between her thighs, pushing her legs apart as he grabbed against her ass, pulling her closer with the force of his hands. They were gone just as fast, the gropes against the firmness of her behind sent instead to find her breast, another to her stomach, trailing downward. She sobbed again, trembling against his hands as his roaming fingers crept between his thigh and her mound. One lone finger claimed into her, breaking that last remaining boundary she had hoped to keep. Rough digits clamped onto her breast, squeezing and rolling, testing and teasing her nipple in its strong hold. Becky's eyes flitted slightly at that, a long heavy moan buried into the gag as he continued to rock his finger into her.

She felt ill. So incredibly ill at all this.
Sickened at the reaction her body gave to this man. The way it seemed to actually. Ache. For more.

Becky's eyes raised just enough to see him, the pathetic plea in her eyes. Stop. Please.
Though an inkling of the opposing.
An inkling of an ache growing inside.
 
He studied her reactions as he manipulated her, watching her subtly move against or with his hands. He eventually switched hands, his wet fingers moving to her other breast while his other resumed its diligent work inside of her, one finger becoming two as he looked at her. Her eyes begged him to stop, but all Adam did was persist; his hands becoming more bold in their exploration, brutally squeezing and twisting her nipple now, while his other hand thrusted inside of her, the sounds coming from down there confirming what he had suspected from her movements and moans; some part of her was enjoying this.

Adam waited until he felt the slightest motion of her thrusting back, and then pulled his hand out of her. "Is that what you want, Becky?" He slapped one side of her ass in response, and then the other to balance it out, grabbing and holding her nipples away from her as he spoke. "To get fucked? Used by the man who's done nothing but abuse you?" His hands stayed tight on her breasts before letting them go, eying her up and down with nothing but utter lust in his eyes, at her naked, hanging form, completely vulnerable to his twisted desires.

"Not yet." He'd meant to think that part, but he saw the third toy he'd use on her for tonight, as he pulled out a grey vibrator, brandishing the remote for the toy in his hand; thankful he'd planned ahead. He turned it on, watching it move around in his hand like something he'd never seen before, as he turned to his helpless student, teasing the buzzing phallus around Becky's breasts, letting it rub into her, watching her body react to it as he made slow, arduous circles around her before running it down the center of her body, stopping it just before her needy center.

He laughed at her as he moved it up and down her thighs, bringing it ever closer to her pussy, even holding it against her clit as he kept it away from her, letting her react to it. Adam even rubbed the hard remote against her nipple, testing her desperation for stimulation, for the high that was contrasting with the amount of pain she'd taken so far. Eventually, he pulled back entirely, even going as far as to turn the vibrator off as he looked at her over his glasses, waiting for her to meet his gaze again.

The moment she did, he thrusted the entire dildo inside of her, turning it back on the moment he had it secured within her depths.
 
Becky shrieked again against the ball as he teased and tortured, his hands seemingly unending in their tests against and within her body. So rough, too rough- he was hurting her at times. She tried to look away from him, to simply close her eyes. But it was impossible. Even with them closed, he was still there. He was still doing it. Closing them only seemed to make things worse. Instead, she stared at him, a mixture of fury and fear in her eyes, pleading to him.
Pleading to stop.
Pleading to keep going.

Her hips turned, her shoulders feeling so tight now. She groaned softly into the gag, his infuriating efforts making her body hunger for more of his touch. His dual fingers buried into her, fucking into his student and leaving her juices to leak his digits, her thighs. She hated herself now. She wanted more.

Professor pulled away, withdrawing the source of her frustration, only to create a new one. A deep groan buried into the ball, glaring at him as he questioned her. The sudden slap to her ass jerked her forward, squealing a muffled sound softly as a second followed on the alterior side. His gaze was frightening. Predatory. A wolf with a trapped lamb. She whined in attempt to respond, her legs trembling. She didn't! She. She did.
God. She did.

His growled words made her eyes widen again, his attention taken by something else briefly.
A toy. A vibrator? He took it in his palm, letting it come to life in his hand. As gleefully awed as he was by it, Becky was frightened. Anxious. How could such conflicting things both come through?

He approached again, the toy finding her skin. Her breasts, her nipples. The waves of its buzzing motions seeped through her, Becky's fingers tightening to fists as she arched forward against it, groaning again. Her flesh prickled up slightly, a shudder running through her as he guided it down, slow circles to test her. She was trying to breathe again, interrupted by more little moans as he dragged along, that toy leaving her almost desperate for relief now. Her ass tightened, her hips rising, a pleading whine as he traced her mound, taunted her clit, brought it so close to what he had left her needing.

Everywhere. Everything. God, please. Please.

He stopped. All of it. He stopped and stepped back.
Becky hadn't noticed she was sweating until now, her nostrils flared as she struggled for air. Each exhaled breath came with a little whimpering moan, a noise of need. Her body trembled still, a shiver she simply couldn't stop as she kept her eyes closed.

This felt an even worse torture than his words. His stripping of her clothing.
He was stripping away at her now. Her control.

"Mmmmmnnnn...." A long, pleading whine, desperate for him. More. Anything. She slowly looked back at him, catching only a brief glimpse of his over the glassed stare before he granted her muffled plea. He forced it into her, deep, hard. The remote turned on.

Becky screamed again, her eyes rolling back slightly as it's powerful buzz claimed inside her.
She was going to cum. She was sure of it. Her pussy ached so badly, her body on fire, overwhelmed. The tightening, electric feel inside her. God, no, not like this, not with him staring at her.

Her pelvic muscles clenched, choked upon that vibrator, the student's cries lost to the gag as she tried to fight against it. She couldn't. She gave in, letting it overtake her, ashamed as she lost her composure, her attempts at control, before him like this.
 
Her moaning only excited him further shortly before he forced the dildo inside of her. The sheen of sweat on her body, watching her forced, twitching movements against his ministrations, and then against the vibrator as she tried to fight the inevitable. The interplay between no and yes in her expression. All of them were causing his manhood to harden uncomfortably against his shorts. Adam could tell what was winning in side of her; her mind was saying no, but her body was saying yes, a thought proven by seeing her thighs tense suddenly, and then slacken. A familiar pool of wetness seeping down her thighs confirmed his theory.

This was normally where one would have mercy; to let a woman rest before going again. But Adam was not feeling merciful. He was a boy trying out a new car, trying out all of the buttons and dials without really knowing what they did. He knew how to manipulate a woman, but he didn't know how to manipulate Becky. Adam took the juices that were running down her thighs and smeared them over her torso and legs; wanting her to be aware of her nakedness at all times, the cold air against her wet skin intending to do just that.

Even with her hanging in front of him, naked, her hair askew and body exposed for him, he was still testing her out. He knew she'd get some pleasure from whatever he did tonight, but that couldn't be all.
He had brought her here to punish her. And so, to start the punishment, instead of removing the dildo, he turned it up a setting, the second of three. A sick smile came on his face as he saw her reaction to not letting her cool down, and he showed the only mercy he would for a while as he lowered her down slightly; not wanting to chafe her wrists any more then he already had as he watched her squirm against the bindings that held her, still under his control.

He went for his bag again, removing the last item he was planning on using on her today. He let her see it, his gaze hardening as he eyed her again, running the whip over her breasts, her center as he moved behind her to slowly, but gently run it down her back. He gently ran his fingers through her hair, giving her a slight pull, just to hear her squeal a bit one more time. He let the end of the whip stay against her ass for a while, wanting her to know his target, letting the anticipation build before he reared back.

*CRACK*
 
Coming down from what he had caused was hard enough, made twice as hard as her efforts to breathe were cut by the gag. Becky's vision was a touch hazed by her orgasm, a trembling body dangling in chains before her teacher. She groaned out as his hands ran between her thighs, trying again to close them, to prevent him. The slick fingers ran up against her skin, baptizing her flesh with her own release. She whined at the feel of it, the wetness leaving her skin to prickle in the cool air of the basement. She shuddered, glaring at him for a moment.

He held up the remote, pressing the button. The sudden increase in vibration caused another howl into the gag, her hips writhing at the feel of it inside her. She sobbed softly, a mixture of both that sound and a weak moan as she shook her head. He wasn't going to give her even a moment, was he? It almost. Hurt. A line between pain and pleasure.

The chain above her was brought down a bit, her bare toes now joined by the soles of her feet on the cement floor. Her wrists still stayed up over her head, but the pull against them wasn't as terrible. A touch of kindness, through the madness.

Becky's wrists twisted above her head, her gaze raising up to try and see her fingers as she flexed her hands, glancing back to the Professor as he headed back to his bag. She was starting to really despise that satchel, wishing she had gotten rid of it back in the spare class room.

He turned back around, the whip in hand. Becky's eyes widened, a muffled Nn-nn coming out as she pulled once more. The tails trailed over her breasts, guided down her form. The student trembled again, her eyes fluttering slightly at the feel of it against her skin. Fear and adrenaline. Anticipation.

He left her line of vision, moving around behind her, still reminding her on his position with that whip's drag. The sudden grasp of his fingers into her hair, the quick yank- she squeaked out with it, tensing up once more and closing her eyes. The tails rested against the swell of her ass, as if memorizing its target. Her breaths grew in pace, her body tensing as the feel left her skin.

It was even more agonizing to not know when.
She waited, grimaced and clenched her fists, her body.

The sudden whish was the quick warning.
The sting of it finding her skin as it cracked down in connection.
Becky screamed. Swore into the ball as he pulled the whip back, a deep groan given as the toy inside recoiled from that impact. She shuddered and shook her head, whining and trying to plead for him to not do it again. It felt as though it had cut right into her flesh.

Cold, and aching. Stinging, and sobbing.
 
He'd tried to be gentle on his first attempt, trying to build it up. But Becky's reaction - considerable even through the gag, - and the fact her bottom was no longer unmarked meant that Adam didn't know his own strength. He frowned, slight perturbed at his effort. The urge to dominate Becky, to push her down further and further, kept rising within him despite on what he'd done to her so far. Seeing her naked, orgasming, and now squealing before him had not done anything to sate him; if anything, the fire within him was burning white hot.

So he pulled it back again, aiming for her thighs this time.

*CRACK*

Hmm, that didn't seem to quite be soft enough either. Let's try the other side of her ass...softer, again...

*CRACK*

Maybe somewhere higher...her shoulders, maybe..

*CRACK*

Or the middle of her back?

*CRACK*

His restraint had tired him; as he trailed it along her body, seeing the few subtle marks he'd left on her perfect skin, he knew that if he reared back again, it would come in harder, and harder, and harder....he trailed it, teasing her with it, before rearing back again, letting the sound reach her ears...and he dropped it.

The adrenaline was still pumping within him as he carelessly unbuckled the gag from her mouth; wanting to hear her this time. It flopped down to the floor as Adam pressed into her from behind, unwittingly forcing the bulge in his shorts into her ass as one arm encircled her from behind. His hand went to mercilessly tease her clit as the other went to the remote in his pocket, turning the vibrator up to its final setting.

Adam's other hand went back to her long neglected breasts, enjoying their fullness, how the felt in his hands...how she moaned/squirmed when he twisted her nipples just like that....he longed to claim her, to cement his dominance, but their evening couldn't end that way. Not yet. For now, he contented himself with forcing her, through pain and pleasure, towards her second climax, even as he ached for his own.
 
Becky gasped for breath against the gag, shivering and trying to listen for him, trying to find out what he was doing. No real motions, just the sound of his own breath. What was he up to? Why was he just standing there? The sting that rested upon her skin gave a slight hint to it. He was studying. Just as he surveyed the notes he left upon the board, he was assessing the work he had left behind on her. Her eyes slowly fell closed, taking a deep breath. Perhaps it was setting in some sort of realization for him. A moment of clarity. A realization that he had gone too far.

If that were the case, why hadn't the toy he left within her stopped yet?
The sudden connection of that whip against her flesh once more caused her legs an attempted buckling, more from the shock of it than the actual bite. She shrieked with it, the chain keeping her from truly losing her balance.

Another pause. Another study.
She wasn't liking this at all. There was no method, no warning. All she heard was that initial sound, but no set direction on its path.

Again.
A pain through her shoulders, the muffled howl and cringe once again. She was sobbing, whimpering desperately. He was testing too much of her, all of this feeling so overwhelming. Her body stiffened as she heard it move once more, her eyes tightened so much tears squeezed from them and ran her cheeks.

But no strike.
A trail. A running down her spine, petting against the sore skin. Becky groaned, shivering at it. It felt so. Strange. Her eyes stayed closed, both exhaustion and the touch leading to this.

His hands moved to her hair, the clasps holding that ball coming loose, the gag pushed away. She tried to flex her jaw, barely getting a moment for this before his hands resumed. Becky groaned out, rocking against her professor as he clung to her, crying out harshly as his other hand drove against her with harsh determination. She howled out as the toy was taken to another level, the buried vibe only made so much worse by his roving hands against both her breast and clit.

"Stop. Please." Her voice was meak, barely above a whisper, lost between a moan and trembles. She could feel him. His arousal. The thickness of his cock, pressed against her ass through his pants.

Get off me!
Please, god, fuck me.

Both thoughts flooded through her, torn between the thoughts of how he betrayed her trust, and how he left her in such desperate need. Another betrayal, brought about in her own body.

She was shaking, pleading in groans and whines, her body unable to stay still as he clutched her tightly. Her mouth hung open now, her gaze locked up at the dangling pullchain of his light as she panted for breath between higher frantic cries. Her eyes quickly snapped shut, her teeth grinding down as she squealed out, a deep sound from far inside her. Too much.

Becky came again, hard against her professor's toy, his demanding fingers. She shoved back against him, gasping and crying out. The toy wouldn't stop- his hand wouldn't stop-
She couldn't breathe. She couldn't see, couldn't move, only continue to writhe until she went limp.
She fainted.
 
"Stop. Please."

Adam barely heard her, and couldn't have obliged her wishes in any case as he continued exploring her, tracing her clit, feeling the toy buzzing inside of her as he desperately pawed and pulled at her breasts, acting out what he'd been holding back for so long. He hadn't been with anyone in over a year, his last date ending in frustration, forced to the edge by watching Becky in every one of her outfits, reminding him, taunting him, teasing him in his mind with her young, supple body. He sniffed, breathing in her hair, but also smelling the dead air in the basement there, which only drove him further, almost growling as he pulled at her hair, spreading her wider for him. His arousal grew every time he felt her against him.

Becky was groaning, whining against him as he pulled her against him. Adam was desperate to feel her body against his, even through his clothes. He saw her looking at the light as her cries became more desperate, and his breathing got heavier; she was close again. "Yes....yes...." he muttered, as if he was close to his own end, but he was far from it; all he had done so far was to torment his innocent student, to take her body to places it had never been. His hands traveled to her thighs, spreading her wide as his hands wantonly ran up and down. The evening was young, and he would take her further and further, until she broke.

A smile played across his lips. Or maybe she won't.

A guttural moan came from inside of her, and Adam felt her tense against him. He tensed with her, his hands squeezing her thighs as he felt her climax, and she shoved back against him, gasping and crying out. In his lustful haze, he forgot that the toy was still going, that he was still hurting her, and her cries kept on, her body writing-

-until she stopped, and went limp.

It took Adam a moment to realize what had happened before he all but panicked. His hands gently went to her neck, and he breathed out slowly. It would seem like a hard thing to believe that he'd killed her, but this *was* his first time at something like this. Trembling hands went to her hands cuffed above her head, desperately unlocking them as he caught her before she fell.

No. No. This is all wrong.

It took little effort to carry her up the stairs, and lay her unconscious form on his couch, before he went downstairs to bring her dress, bra, and shoes up as well. He looked towards the phone, realizing he should dress her and have her brought to her room.

And what then?

He looked at the TV, wondering if he should have her wake up to the movie she'd accidentally turned on earlier, and if he should continue their evening....to let her see what was happening to her, watching someone get pounded on screen like she was to be pounded . He was still hard, despite what had happened, and Adam looked to the phone and television, two competing ideas in his head.

Then, he made up his mind.
 
"Hey. Hey, Lady. C'mon, wake up. I don't have all night, and the guy only gave me a twenty. This ain't no travellin' hotel."

Becky's eyes slowly opened, rubbing her head softly as she looked to the man peering at her from the driver's seat. A car? A cab. How did she even get in here? "I'm... Huh?" She gave him another confused look, then peered out the window. The lights of the dormitory burned back at her, her confusion growing even more. The last she remembered, she was with Professor Tourast. She was.

Oh god. He was doing all those things...

She shuddered, her hand still rubbing her forehead as she glanced down. Dressed. He had put all her clothing back on her.

"Yeah, you should be pretty damn thankful to that guy who found you. Said he was one of your teachers. Some party you were at? Drunk off your ass, stumblin' around that neighborhood. He happened to be passing by when you passed out. That's one nice fella, you ask me, even paying some dumb college chick's cab fare like this." He glanced to the meter, then cleared his throat. "Though she's spending it pretty damn fast."

"Oh. Y-yeah. Okay." She reached for the door latch, stumbling out of the car.

Nice fella?
The story he gave the driver. Her knight in shining armor.
Drunk college student, saved from indecency.
She knew that was the furthest thing from the truth, trying hard to make her way inside as the sick feeling she had kept down for most of the night finally caught up with her. She needed her dorm. Now.

Thrusting the door open, staggering past the bed, to the bathroom, she dropped to the floor before the toilet and just retched. Sobbed. All of it, everything. The things he said, he did. It was all so overwhelming, still so heavy in her mind, still feeling it all on her skin. Everything right up until.

She had fainted, she realized that now. A truth in his lie.
he hadn't done anything, had he? He had dressed her, she obviously knew that much. Her panties were missing. He had torn those.

She groaned again, shaking her head as she cradled the porcelain. She needed sleep, but was terrified of the dreams that may try to come in. More tears, more confusion. She just couldn't move.

Her bed felt forever away.
She fell asleep right there, on the floor of her bathroom, curled upon the fluffy white rug in front of her shower.



The weekend felt a blur, more than anything. She remembered doing things, but couldn't recall what they were. Going out with. Someone. A ride. Somewhere. Blurs of an attempt at things to clear her mind, but it seemed an opposite effect. It was erasing everything she wanted to use to get rid of those thoughts, those reminders. Becky wanted desperately to say something, anything, to anyone.

The most she could recall was a talk with Tom. He had called. Asked why he never heard from her. She remembered saying something about Professor Tourast. Something about a bad night. She just couldn't recall what it was she had said.

It came to her late Sunday night. Early hours of Monday morning. The day she was supposed to see him. The first class of her day.

He scares me, Tom. He scares the hell out of me.

She couldn't get back to sleep.
Her eyes stayed upon her clock, counting down until that dreaded time. When she would have to see him. She couldn't wear a dress again, not after- that. Jeans. a tee. A sweatshirt. Everything to make herself not look like her. The reason, the reason he had deemed.

She didn't take her usual seat when she got there. Instead, a far back corner spot. Hidden away. Tom noticed, and sat beside her.

She just wasn't looking forward to this.
 
He wasn't sure how long he'd stayed up that night, after sending her home. Despite his recent troubles, he'd never been a heavy drinker, up until now. But as Adam sat at his laptop, his glass sitting safely on his dresser, two thirds full with an amber liquid, he was moving like mad.

Browsing online marketing sites, knowing exactly what he was looking for. Messages popping up left and right as he made offers, making arrangements. Despite the few toys he'd tested on Becky tonight, he was feeling desperately inadequate. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what his drink was even for, except for show, as his judgment, much to his surprise, seemed to be as sharp as it ever was. His thought process was clear, and his decisions seemed unabetted by any outside influence.

Becky didn't count as one anymore. All he could see was her body, naked, helpless, thrashing in his grip, and how he wanted that feeling of control. Of power, forcing her to do whatever he wanted, going beyond what she'd let him do. As he sent another message, inquiring about a sawhorse, one thought occured to him as to where his judgment could be impaired after all.

I'm fairly certain my credit limit is going to break at some point.

******************

The sound of violent knocking woke him that morning, as he laid splayed out on his bed. The glass was empty, his bottle nearly half so, and it took about thirty seconds for Adam to blink away the headache that now blazed through him.

I don't think I've drank like that in... he shook his head, stumbling down to the door as a rather portly indian man looked back at him, shaking his head.

"We gonna do this or not?" Money exchanged, several boxes inside, a handshake, a muttered curse in a language Adam didn't recognize, and a drive away.

It was a process that repeated itself several more times that day. It was at times like this that Adam was grateful that, for the moment, he didn't have an address that anyone knew about. Except for one person. His thoughts continued to twist and turn as he wondered about how to deal with that person on Monday.

**********

It was about one thirty AM on Sunday morning where it finally occured to him why he was drinking again. Another test, in an endless series of them, to determine one more thing.

If the demented, calculating man he'd been on Friday evening was who he really was. If he was someone who had wanted to punish Becky so badly for something she hadn't done, to imagine her as his lost wife and take out his pent out aggression on her, to control her and push her farther and farther, twist her mind in pain and pleasure until she was his. And the answer that came out surprised him.

It would have scared him, a couple of weeks ago. He wasn't that person.

He was more.

**********

The man who marched into the classroom was not the same man who had taught the class during that first week. He was wearing an immaculate black suit jacket, black pants, a near perfect light brown shirt, with the top button open. His glasses were spotless, and the black shoe he wore almost shined. For the first time in a long time, his beard and moustache were totally gone. Rente had complimented him on the way in, and Adam's only response had been "I've got something to prove again. This divorce is not going to stop me from being who I am, and getting what I want."

A few mock whistles greeted him on the way in, and he placed his books on the desk, his movements precise as he started the class exactly on time. "Good morning, class." His eyes took in the whole room, not focusing on anyone at all, least of all the person trying to hide from him in the back corner. His tone was all business as he continued. "Since I know that most of you didn't bother with the readings, I'll direct you to page 27 in your textbooks." Another disapproving look, with the barest hint of a smile. "Assuming any of you brought your books..."

The quite chuckle that accompanied his statement was accompanied by about two thirds of the class getting their books. "As you can see, Muertes gets very much in to why socialism is a mislabel for many political movements...especially in Europe." He looked at the expectant faces as he continued. "In fact, all labels are relative to what your own ideas and beliefs are..."

He barely stopped talking for the rest of the class; his normal back and forth discussion replaced by a man who was trying to educate, to illuminate ideas and beliefs, even if his true intent was masked under his spotless appearance and many words. It was for the person he barely stole a glance for, the woman hiding in the back corner, both behind the class and behind the frumpy clothes that tried to hide her from his gaze.

I know who I am. The question is, do you?

With his time near its end, he looked at his watch. "I think you've all listened to me drone on enough for one day." This time, the laughter was more then polite. "I'll let you all go a bit early....." As the rustle of chairs, backpacks, and students hustling to get out of class filled the room, his voice still cut through the din.

"Tom, I need a moment of your time."

As Adam went back to his desk, sorting his notes, he didn't need to look up to know there would be at least two sets of eyes on him. There would be one pair looking on in confusion; another, in anger.
 
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Tom leaned over as more students filtered into the room, his voice low as he spoke to the trying-to-hide girl beside him. "Hey, are you alright? You sounded really out of it when I talked to you last night. Some of the things you said.. Becky, you really sounded scared."

"It's fine," She responded quickly, looking back to her desk and shaking her head. "I just. I just had a really long weekend. Things got a little. Hectic for me. Overwhelming." She really didn't want to explain too much to Tom. To have him get too curious. Ask about things that he simply shouldn't know about.

"You mentioned Mister Tourast-"
"It's fine, Tom. Just drop it." She hadn't intended to snap at him like she did, but when she glanced over, he looked incredibly dejected. Becky's stomach tightened even more. This was not what she had wanted at all. God, everything was just insane right now. She had no idea what to do.

I want to tell you, Tom. I want you to know. I want you to help me. Please.

No sooner had the thoughts begun then the Professor in question stepped into the room. A suit, clean shaven. Presented as a respectable, regarded member of the college faculty. Viewed as a perfect gentleman.

It made Becky feel a thousand times worse to see him this way.
She didn't hear a word he said as he began the lecture, cutting off the usual open discussions he had encouraged the week prior. His gaze upon the faces of the room seemed slightly unsettling, the worst when he met with her eyes.

"Oh god." She stared down at her book quickly.
Tom glanced at her, that returning concern showing as he reached over to touch her hand. She yanked it away, shaking her head. No. No touching. Don't look at me.

He had gone back to his own book, she could tell by the shuffle in his chair. She didn't want to offend him. She just didn't want to get too close to him, to say too much. She couldn't remember what she had said the other day. The tiny bits he recalled for her left her worried. How much did he know? What had she even said to him?

Professor let the class out early as he finished his lecture, Becky glancing up just slightly, trying to get her bag as quickly as she could.

He called for Tom to stay.
She froze. Looked up. Tom was slowly getting up from his chair, an utterly lost look plastered to his face.

She realized he may have seen them together in the hall Friday.
What he had said over the coffee. How Tom seemed someone she could get close to.

Becky was shaking.
That threat, Friday night. The threat on if she said a word.
She couldn't remember what she had told Tom.

She didn't want to get up. She didn't want to leave him alone with Tourast.
 
OOC: Leaving any of 'Tom's replies, if you want them to be specific, to you, Polly - I can change this if necessary.

IC:

Adam shuffled through his papers, his thoughts racing as he carefully placed them into his notebook, getting ready to place it into his bag. He didn't intend to linger here any longer the necessary after he had done what he intended to do. He looked up only occasionally as Tom approached him, but he still noticed that Becky was lingering, her scared eyes on him.

How much did she tell him? Obviously, the full measure of their conversations together couldn't be told from mere inference, but if Becky had informed her new interest of every one of Adam's activities on Friday night...well, it was more then likely that he would not be here right now. Tom wouldn't be approaching him like this, and it was more then likely Rente would have had his head on a platter by now, or at least called him into his office to notify him of the accusation. The old man might be one of Adam's closest friends at the university, but Adam knew fully well that Rente would fire anyone without a second thought if he had to.

Tom looked confused, but the young man was at his desk. With a quick smile (with the barest hint of a smirk for the watching Becky), he put down his bag.

"Hello, Tom." His tone was warm, and genuine. "Have you been enjoying the class so far?" Small talk was something he was good at, but Adam didn't enjoy it in the least; it was a waste of time as far as pure academia was concerned.'

"This is nothing serious." He continued, trying to lighten his expression even as the smile disappeared. "We've had a few dropouts and transfers out of the class, as you have seen. I don't know if you've looked at the group assignments yet for your project-" Adam had put them up the courses' website, but he was unsure as to how often the students checked them "-but I just wanted to let you know that I've changed you group." He picked up his bag as he continued. "I haven't finished rearranging the other groups yet, but so far you're the only change I've made, and I wanted to let you know in case you'd started co-ordinating with your group members."

Adam looked at the back of the room, pretending to only notice Becky now. "In fact, Becky will be one of the people you're assigned to work with." He leaned in, smiling briefly again. "I've seen the way you look at her...don't dwell on your feelings for her. You never know when a chance at a pretty young woman like her will be taken away." With a final zip of his bag, he looked back at his young student. "That's all. You're free to go."

The instant Tom turned around, he gave a quick, hard look at Becky before his face resumed its normal, placid expression as he walked by Tom quickly, not looking at either of them as he left the room.

******************

In the private sanctuary of his office, his day nearly over, Adam leaned back, breathing in heavily. No meetings from Rente, and he knew at this point most or all of the staff would be gone for the day; but he had one last thing to get finished. So focused he was, that it took a few knocks on his closed door to get his attention. With a quick gulp - wondering if someone had squealed to Rente - he said "come on in" without looking up; it would not help his cause to be nervous at someone popping in for a visit.
 
That was it? Becky breathed a sigh of relief as she picked up her bag, trying to not show a large amount of interest in what the two men were talking about. Tom seemed confused but pleased with the Professor's explanation for the small meeting, glancing back at her with a small smile and nod at the added comment from the teacher. "Yes, sir. Thanks."

And that was that.

The two students met in the cafeteria between classes, a muffin and coffee shared as they discussed the first few sessions of college thus far. Things seemed to be running smoothly- at least, in Tom's book. Becky was still avoiding looking at him for long periods of time.

"Beck, if there's something wrong, you need to talk to me. Professor Tourast wants us to start the projects soon and-"

"I don't understand why he did that," She blurted suddenly, shaking her head.

Tom stared at her. "Excuse me? Did what? Put us in a group together? I thought you would be happy about that!"

"I mean that meeting. Why he felt the need to do that." He kept looking at her during it. There had to be another reason he called Tom back like that. "Tom, Professor Tourast- He... There was something that happened over the weekend- I-"

"I heard about that." His voice was flat, a suddenly stern tone to the guy across from her. Becky paled, staring at him as he shook his head. "One of the girls in your dorm heard the whole thing. That cabbie's recanting of the night you couldn't remember. Listen, you can't go off partying like that, getting wasted like that, if you expect anything to come out of this. I won't have an alcoholic girlfriend, Becky."

"That's- that's not what happened!," She exclaimed, shaking her head. "Tom, that's not- No, that's not what happened at all! I just... I can't remember certain parts, after... everything happened..."

"I was hoping it wasn't true, Beck. But how can you tell me it's not if you can't remember?" He sighed, finishing his own coffee. "We can talk about it later, okay? For now. Just remember. I do like you. But you have to work on your choices a bit more." He stood up, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. "He worries about you too, you know. I can see it. He's a good guy."

Good guy? "Tom, you have no idea what you're even saying. Professor Tourast is a horrible man."

"Jesus, Beck. The man pulled you out of the road and called you a cab. Afraid he'll ruin your rep?" He shook his head, starting out of the cafeteria, leaving her to sit there, a furious look on her face.

---------------------

He didn't understand her. Not a thing of what was going on in that girl's head.
Maybe talking to the guy who had found her would make things more understandable. Tom made his way to the Professor's office, knocking lightly. No response. He checked the little sign next to the door. This was part of his time slot. A little louder.

"Come on in."

So he was there.
Tom slipped inside, closing the door slightly. "Hey, Professor. I was. Wondering if I could talk to you. It's not exactly about class, but. Well. Someone in it." He frowned, shaking his head as he thought about the earlier talk with Becky, the strange phone call with her over the weekend. "I'm really worried about Becky. One of the girls in her dorm told me about the taxi that dropped her off late Friday night. How she seemed really out of it, what she heard the cabbie saying. What I don't get though..." He paused, the confusion coming on a bit more in his expression. "She called me. Sunday. She was scared to death, ranting. Rambling. I think something happened to her. I just don't know what to do. She kept saying she was afraid of you. That you scared her. She wouldn't say why, she just kept saying she couldn't tell me. Maybe because of what happened that night?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe- maybe you could talk to her? She won't even listen to me. I'm really worried about her."
 
"Hey, Professor. I was. Wondering if I could talk to you. It's not exactly about class, but. Well. Someone in it."

Adam looked up at the familiar voice. "Tom." He looked at his student before standing up slowly, seeing the serious look on his face. "My door is always open." He took a moment to think about his reply. "What's on your mind?"

The younger man frowned with a shake of his head. "I'm really worried about Becky. One of the girls in her dorm told me about the taxi that dropped her off late Friday night. How she seemed really out of it, what she heard the cabbie saying. What I don't get though..." A brief pause. "She called me. Sunday. She was scared to death, ranting. Rambling. I think something happened to her. I just don't know what to do. She kept saying she was afraid of you. That you scared her. She wouldn't say why, she just kept saying she couldn't tell me. Maybe because of what happened that night?"

Adam sighed, hiding the small feel of dread that almost bubbled to the surface. If she talked...if she talked. "Did she mention anything specific about the evening? Anything about what happened to her? What do you think..." He trailed off, letting Adam respond.

"I don't know. Maybe- maybe you could talk to her? She won't even listen to me. I'm really worried about her." Adam watched him, measuring him before he asked another question.

"Are you sure it's that? Maybe she's just not getting along with her roommate. That can be quite an adjustment..." The response he got was a very useful bit of information, but he hid that with a deep sigh, as if he was about to admit something hard.

"I can shed some light on what happened on Friday." he started. "I wasn't really myself last week, Tom. I'd rather not go into details, but I'm finalizing my divorce with my wife." He flopped down into his chair. "I might not have looked very friendly at times during the class, and we talked for a bit after it and...I might have been short." He let out a breath, as if releasing a burden before continuing.

"And on Friday night, I was out of a walk and caught her stumbling around - I live in an area where there are more then a few college students who share houses. She was completely out of it, so I got her a taxi to take her home." He looked at Tom seriously. "She might be associating me with whatever happened to her that night. It's a bit upsetting, but in a way, not that surprising. She's a girl who's away from home for the first time, figuring out her boundaries, who to spend her time with, how to take care of herself at a place far away from home...it can be quite an adjustment for some people."

He looked down, as if pondering his options for a moment before he continued. "I noticed she seemed a bit off today, and now that you've suggested it...I think I will talk to her." Adam drummed his hands on his desk. "It's not entirely appropriate, but considering everything at stake here, I think we can drop certain teacher/student boundaries in the name of helping Becky. I'll ask her to come see me during my office hours on Wednesday." He smiled slightly. "All the same, I would appreciate if you kept the details of this conversation between you and me. Just for appearances' sake." A more serious look. "For both of us."

With that settled, Adam looked around for a moment before meeting Tom's gaze again. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

****************

Of course, Adam knew it couldn't be that easy. No matter what he did, Becky would not see him willingly. Not now, not after what had happened, no matter what he did. He might be able to keep her silent, but that was an entirely different matter from keeping her compliant, into making her obey. To do that, Adam knew he'd have to take a huge risk.

Which is how he found himself in a service elevator for Moore House. Samuel had been especially helpful in directing him into the elevator that the janitorial staff used; Adam's excuse had been that he wanted to visit his niece more discreetly then a professor could be wandering through the dorms.

"All staff have access. It was a coding change in the locks a couple years ago and nobody caught it." The old man puffed in his cigarette before examing Adam uneasily. "Just don't use it often. Someone will notice if you're seeing her every day..."

The elevator went to Becky's floor, and Adam exited into the rather putrid room; the smell of cleaning fluids and the sight of an unruly mop catching his eye as he headed to the door. With no hesitation, he opened it onto the unfamiliar dorm floor.

It was near the time of day he'd called her on Thursday, so that would likely mean she'd be off again today. Most of the campus would be out and about, but with how Becky was feeling it was unlikely she'd be on campus doing much.

Still, Adam quickly made his way to her room, looking around nervously before knocking on her door.
 
A relieved look passed over Tom's features, a quick nod given with the Professor's somewhat reluctant agreement to talking with her. "Thank you so much, professor. That does make sense, how that could bring up the subject she keeps trying to avoid. I'm just really worried about her, and she won't talk to me." He sighed again. "She seems to trust you, sir. Maybe you can get something out of her. I hate seeing her so tensed up."

With that matter attended to, the young man made his way from the office, setting out for his own continued classes.


------

Becky wasn't sure what to do anymore. Her little blow up with Tom obviously hadn't helped a thing, and her original confidante was no longer someone she could trust. Instead, she chose to hide away in her dorm room, the internet and a bottle of Coors her comforts for the evening. A pizza ordered, a movir pulled up. Try to forget about anything even remotely related to-

A knock on her door.
She paused the movie on her laptop, hopping off the bed. "One second, let me just find a tip!" Her purse in hand, she was rummaging through as she opened the door, sighing as she held up a five, still not looking up. "Looks like you get this-"

She finally raised her eyes.
Professor.
Adam.
She paled, closing the door slightly. "What the hell are you doing here?," she hissed, shaking her head. "I didn't say anything, I swear!" She grit her teeth, recalling the recounts of her weekend from others. "Everyone thinks I'm a drunken whore because of you-!"
 
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