The Sin 'Zine-#5-Wrath - Middlespace

Master’s Wrath
By Lea Meadows
S
he knew from the minute he walked in that it was going to be one of those days.
All the signs were there: the stern, determined gait, the tense, steel-like jaw. He
was not going to be easy on her today. And she hadn’t helped matters by
defying him. His instructions were clear but it wasn’t as if she’d had much of a choice.
She squirmed in her seat, felt the blush cut across her cheek and lowered her gaze.
Best not to make things worse.
It was all there the first time she met him. She was in the second semester of her junior
year and had elected to take a film appreciation class instead of the usual women’s
studies bullshit. All the feminist crap was wearing thin on her. She’d reluctantly agreed
to take on the women’s studies minor to appease her advisor. You know the kind -
failed hippie who now published overly dramatic poetry in local literary magazines
and felt the need to “nurture” raw talent. She really needed to re-think her choice.
So when she walked into his class, she was prepared to zone out and spend 90
minutes outlining the premise of her next erotic short story. This time she was thinking of
pairing an older woman with a former student who attended the class reunion to
finally fuck his Physics teacher. And in the middle of a scene where Dean was bending
Mrs. Farber over a chair in the faculty lounge, she felt a strange sense of foreboding.
The air was almost still and it seemed like the entire class had gone silent because of it.
She didn’t think to look up from her notebook because had she done that she’d
notice that he was standing right in front of her.
“Ms. McKinney? Is there something so much more interesting than my lecture?”
Her mouth went dry. “Uh, no Mr. Finn. I’m here.”
“You may be here but are you paying attention, Ms. McKinney?
She could feel the wetness begin to saturate the middle panel of
her panties. Two months ago, she had no idea that she’d become
his pet. She felt like a puppet with strings attached to her nipples
and clit instead of her arms and legs. But they never actually spoke
or saw each other outside of the classroom. He just ruled her with his
intense black eyes, the click of his shoes on the floor and the
instructions he emailed her nightly. Instructions that’d made her
come more times than she could count.
The first of what he called “requests” came the day after she wore
that tight black skirt that rode up when she slid into her chair.
“Ms. McKinney. For tomorrow’s class I’d like for you to participate
more in the discussion. Your perspective on the last reading was
The Sin ‘Zine – Ira – 14