Chapter Text
When Eliza got assignment back, her heart sank. She'd actually worked so hard this time and yet it still wasn't enough. She'd been steadily failing this class all year, her head somehow unable to wrap around the subject. If her at the end of the year her grade average for this class was below fifty procent, they could stop her from graduating. Tears stung as she looked at the failing grade, marked in a brilliant red at the top of the page.
When her racing heart beat had calmed slightly, she took a brave glance at the rest of the page, wanting to see how she got it all wrong this time. Despite studying for hours. Her answers were all crossed out with the same red pen, no explanation in sight. She sighed. She'd have to go up to the teacher then, to ask for help.
She looked up from her desk at the teacher sitting at the front of the class. Mr. Matheson was leaning back in his chair, legs stretched out in front of him. Seemingly ignoring his class, instead focussed on a fiction novel she recognized as some new thriller she'd seen while window shopping. His brown boots were crossed over each other, a shoelace slightly undone. He looked rogueish. Brown hair, artfully mussed to seem windblown, a slight but neatly trimmed stubble. His button-down hung open to reveal a bandshirt underneath.
He noticed her attention on him, looking up from his book to look right at her, one eyebrow slightly raised. She quickly looked down again, frowning. His good looks were intimidating. He wasn't as easy to approach as the other teachers. Her heart rate picked up again. Around her her classmates were chatting about the assignment. Comparing answers. Next to her someone tried to get her attention, asking to get a look at her answers. She ignored them.
When the bell finally rang to signal the end of class, and of the day, she hung around until the others had left and only she and Matheson were in the room. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage, and walked up to him. He was putting away his stuff slowly, almost as if he knew she wanted to talk and he was giving her that chance.
"Eliza." He greeted her with a slow drawl. He turned towards her, giving her his full attention.
"Mister Matheson, I don't understand where I went wrong. I worked really hard for this and I-"
"You need this grade, don't you?"
"Sir?"
A sly smile appeared on his face, "You're desperate for a good grade. Need to get up that failing average." He stepped closer.
She swallowed heavily, the sudden tension between them scaring her. As he took another step closer, she stepped back, until she felt his desk digging in her ass.
"You did great on this assignment actually." He planted his hands on the desk, caging her in. "Now, I can make sure your grade reflects that hard work you put in.
"But first, I need something from you."
"What?" she felt confused. His body was close enough that her breasts bumped against his chest. It was hard to concentrate, but was he saying that the low grade was a lie? His head dipped down towards her, and she froze, thinking for a moment that he was going to kiss her.
"Don't move." he said low in her ear, before stepping back. She inhaled deeply in the sudden space he created, she felt greedy for air as if she had stopped breathing during the exchange.
Matheson walked towards the classroom door, shutting it, a key in his hand to lock it. Locking her in. He walked back slowly, regarding her with a smile on his face. She didn't move.
"Good girl." He stepped close again, caging her back in. A leg pushing inbetween hers. It was that contact that snapped her out of her daze.
"Let me leave." her voice steadier than she'd anticipated. Her palms pushed against his chest, trying to give herself space. He just laughed, his hands gripping her wrists and bringing them down to the desk, trapping her hands. She tried to tug them free, but he was much stronger than her. Fear was taking over now and she started struggling with her full body now. Bucking and trashing against him, trying to throw him off. She wanted to knee him in the balls, but he was too close to get enough movement. Her voice was shaking now, "Please."
"Stop fighting me." his voice was cold, dangerous. An involuntary thrill went through her and she obeyed immediately. "You may not realize it yet, but you want this.
"And trust me, Eliza. You'll enjoy it." He licked his lips before pressing them against hers. A shocked noise escaped her. He kissed her slow, lips moving against hers before licking at the seam of her lips. A small bite at the her lower lip, before sucking the sting away. His tongue came out, pressing at her lips, asking for entrance. She let him in and the kiss deepened. It was sensual. Not what she'd expect from someone that was going to rape her.
She hadn't realized he'd released her hands, until his own gripped her hips, hoisting her up on the desk. A hand dipped between her legs, caressing the inside of her bare thighs. "You want this." he repeated against her lips, his hand going higher underneath her skirt, touching her soaked underwear. Oh god, she was soaked. She gripped the edge of the desk underneath her tightly, knuckles whitening from the strain.
He smiled when he noticed, "Told you." He kissed her again. His hand stroked her through her panties. She parted her legs with a gasp. He added more pressure, stroking up and down, putting pressure against her clit. She felt the wet cloth drag against the bundle of nerves, a fire slowly building in her stomach. A finger slid inside her panties, stroking inbetween her soaked lips, covering itself in her juices. Her breath hitched at the coldness of his skin.
She'd only had sex a few times before with her ex-boyfriend and it had never felt anything close to this. She hadn't been able to orgasm and faking it for him seemed ridiculous, even though that's what her friends said they did.
He entered her, his finger sliding inside easily to the second knuckle. This is okay, she thought, I can handle a finger. But she doubted this is where this would end. He curled his finger, setting alight some nerves inside of her and she jolted. She bucked her hips, the movement almost involuntary as her body craved more, her tingling clit aching to be touched.
Her teacher laughed and she pulled back from him at the sound. He was mocking her. He wanted her to want this and when she did, he mocked her? Her breath shuddered out of her and she felt tears well up inside. She wanted to go home. She was scared, confused. She just wanted to leave.
A hand around her neck pulled her closer again, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. A second finger pushed inside her and it burned. Her hands came up from the edge of the desk to push at his shoulders again and she tried to pull her head away from his shoulder. The hand around her neck tightened.
"Hush." His fingers pushed in deeper. "I wasn't laughing at you." The fingers at her head slowly carded through her hair. His thumb circled her clit and she tightened around the fingers inside her. They started moving, slowly in and out of her, curling and twisting. The fire in her stomach started building again and a soft noise escaped her.
"You really are a good girl, aren't you?" He'd angled his head, so his voice was dark in her ear. She felt the words glow inside her chest.
"Yes." she whispered, breathing harshly against his chest.
The fingers in her hair pulled, her head tilting upwards, bringing their faces closer together. His stubble dragged against her skin. His warm breath ghosted the shell of her ear, his lips closed around her earlobe, suckling softly.
A cry escaped her as that fire started spreading, her hips bucking against his fingers. She'd never orgasmed before, but she wanted to go over that edge. Wanted to know what it was like. And as she did, everything faded around her except for his touch. Her body shaking, head swimming in a haze.
The world settled again and she uncurled her stiff fingers from the desk. Holy fucking shit, how could anyone fake something like that?
Her breathing calmed a bit and she became aware of her surroundings again. Of the man towering over her. It felt like a cold shock of reality. The reality of what had just happened. Relieved, she noticed his fingers weren't inside her anymore.
"I need to go home now." Her voice sounded tiny to her own ears, "My mom is picking me up from school today."
She heard him chuckle, but she felt unable to look him in the eye. "Well that would be a first.
"No, Eliza. Your mom is not picking you up. You will walk home, as you always do. Stopping by the library to read for another hour. You won't be missed for a while." She felt sick that he knew this about her, knew her routine. "Besides, you can't leave yet." One of his hands grabbed hers and pulled it towards him, forcing her fingers open and pushing it against his jeans. Against his very obvious erection.
He let go of her hand, but she didn't move away. The heat of his hardness bleeding through the fabric. Her eyes focussed on it. On her hand against the large bulge, straining against his jeans. She pressed down with the heel of her hand. She didn't know why exactly she did it. Something wild overtook her as she realized she was truly stuck there. There was no way for her to leave and he was right, no one would be looking for her for a while yet.
She looked up at him, his dark eyes boring into hers. His mouth fell slightly open as she applied more pressure.
"Call me a good girl again." Eliza whispered. The confession felt shameful, painful even.
"Gladly." he answered, his face moving towards hers. Something loosened inside her.
He kissed her and it felt just as sweet as the kiss earlier, at odds with the rest of his behaviour. She made sure to kiss back this time and he groaned inside her mouth. He stepped inbetween her legs, pressing their bodies together and she could feel his erection pressing against her cunt. She ground back against him, needing the pressure against her tingling pussy.
Mr. Matheson pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to press down against her shoulder. His other hand curled around her back, guiding her down on the desk.
She felt scared from anticipation. Nothing she had done with her ex had prepared her for this and she felt lost, unsure of what to do. She looked into her teachers eyes for guidance.
He smirked, understanding what she was asking. "Just lie back and enjoy. I'll do the work." She obeyed, trying and failing to lie comfortably on the hard wood underneath her, her legs dangling off the edge. He grabbed her legs and pulled them around him, easing the strain on her back and she hooked her feet around each other, the movement pulling him closer.
He chuckled lowly, "You really are a good girl." Licking his lips, his eyes roved over her body, taking her in. She felt uncomfortable under his gaze, felt like she was being judged and would be found wanting.
"Beautiful." he whispered and her fear eased, her body relaxed and she closed her eyes. She heard him open his pants, heard the slide of cloth against skin as he pulled them down. She wanted to see him. Know what he looked like. But her fear proved too big and her eyes remained closed. His hands slid around her skin and she felt the cold bite of metal as he cut away her panties. Wait, what? Her eyes flew open, when did he get scissors?
She tried to push herself up on her elbows but his hand on her shoulder pushed her down again with a cold don't move. But this time she watched, as he put the scissors down on the desk - just out of grabbing distance of her hands - as he stepped closer and she felt his length against her. First against her thigh, then closer, at her lips. The tip of him gliding inbetween, covering him in her juices.
One of his hands gripped her thigh, hard enough to make indents in her skin. Perhaps even hard enough to bruise. His other hand gripped his cock. His way larger than her ex' cock. She swallowed. "Eliza." he called and her eyes pulled away reluctantly to focus on his. There was no gentleness on his face. "This will go inside you. And you will take it.", it was a command and she nodded in responce.
And then he guided himself inside her, his earlier ministrations and her orgasm making her slick enough so that it went easier than she had expected. He leaned over her as he pushed in deeper, his elbow resting on the wood next to her. It hurt slightly and she tried to slow her breathing, trying to relax more.
When he finally stopped moving, she felt so full she could hardly breath. She felt his balls against her skin. He was fully inside her, she hadn't thought it possible. But he'd said so, he'd known.
"Good job." he said, and his voice was so steady, so in control. She smiled at the words. He pulled back and thrust back in, his balls slapping against her at the force of it. She gasped. The movement had set all the nerves inside her alight and she felt herself clench around his cock.
He found a rhythm, thrusting inside her, adjusting their positions to hit a different spot and she yelled in suprise as he did. Her hand coming up to cover her mouth.
"What the hell was that?" She turned to him, wide-eyed.
He cocked his head, a grin twisting his face, "That - was your g-spot." She wanted to ask him to do it again, whatever it was. But nerves held her tongue.
It didn't matter. Matheson pressed against her g-spot again on his next thrust. And his next. And she arched her neck, the back of her head pressing down hard on the desk, as raw pleasure pulsed through her body. She wanted to chase that orgasm again.
Her hand moved around on the desk, searching for his. She found it and her fingers gripped the back of his hand, a strangled please escaping her. He obeyed her request, but he grabbed her hand as he moved his, bringing them together at her cunt. Both of their fingers moving, sliding around her soaked lips and clit. She did what she knew felt good. Circling around and pushing the hood. Her breaths came out in short gasps as she neared the edge.
His own movements became erratic as he neared his own. And he came just before she did, his cum spurting inside her as her own orgasm made her clench around him, milking him.
He pulled away, his dick sliding out of her and she felt cold with its absence. His cum slowly leaked out of her. Her ex had always pulled out just before, his cum staining her cloths and the sheets underneath them. She was glad that wasn't the case now, but felt nervous at the implications.
It was quiet for a moment, the sounds of their breathing slowing down the only thing she could hear.
His hand curled around hers and pulled her up, her legs loosening from around his hips and dropping down on the floor. As he pulled her to a standing position, she swayed, her head dizzy. She felt dazed and unmoored. Her body no longer feeling like her own in this new world.
A hand on her hip steadied her. She saw a box of tissues in his hand. The one he always kept in the desk drawer for flu season. He put it on the desk and pulled a couple of tissues out, his hand moving inbetween her legs. He wiped away the cum growing cold on her skin, sliding the tissues over the cumtrails on her thighs before pressing against her cunt. She moaned, she wasn't sure if it was pleasure or pain that caused it. Matheson ignored it, focussed on cleaning her up.
Her head dropped down against his chest to support her trembling body. Her thoughts flitting every which way, unsure on how to proceed now. She wanted to scream at him, she wanted to kiss him, she wanted to curl up in her bed and cry.
As he straightened her skirt and started cleaning himself, her thoughts settled. She was angry.
The palm of her hand moved towards his face rapidly, but a grip around her wrist stopped her before the slap could connect. Her face twisted in anger, struggling against his grip. "Let me go." she demanded icily.
"Not if that means you'll hit me, Eliza." God he sounded so condescending.
"Fix my grade." Her heart was hammering in her chest, but her words were steady.
He inhaled deeply through his nose, as if considering her request. Fucking asshole. She'd always thought him so handsome, but right now she hated him.
"I suppose you've earned it." He let go of her wrist and took a step back, out of her range. He stooped down to pull up his jeans. She noticed he hadn't even been wearing underwear. The implication of this being planned all along made her blush and her hands clenched in angry fists.
He was moving so slow, "My assignment, Mister Matheson." she reminded him.
He stopped moving, "Patience." There was a dangerous edge to his voice that shut her up.
He grabbed her assignment from where it had fallen on the floor, she figured her dignity must be down there as well. He grabbed a red pen from a side pocket of his leather messenger bag. The paper slapped down hard on the desk as he moved to write in it. He crossed out the failing grade and changed it to one that just barely passed.
'You did great on this assignment actually.' That's what he'd said, great is not barely a pass. It also wouldn't be enough to fix her average. She felt tears well up again until they clung at the edge of her eyes.
"That can't be right." And now her voice trembled, her anger had turned from cold to an overwhelming torrent of emotion. She looked up from the paper to his face, that was already watching her, "You can't."
"I suppose you'll need some extra help for the rest of this class. I'll arrange some after school lessons. Don't worry, I'll make sure you pass at the end of the year. Wouldn't want to put your graduation in jeopardy." There was a sly smile on his face, like this was a secret just between them.
A tear slid down her face. He pushed the assignment towards her and she moved on automatic, accepting the paper and putting it away in her bag resting on the floor a bit further from the table. As she stooped down to the bag she felt cold air brush against her bare vagina. Another tear escaped. She stood back up, hoisting the bag on her back and turning towards the door.
Her teacher moved around her, walking towards the door with the key in his hand, unlocking the door. She crossed the room behind him, waiting for him to open the door.
As she slipped between the gap in the door, he called after her, "Make sure to go to the toilet. You have to pee."
She turned slightly, confusion breaking through her daze just enough, "What?"
He had one eyebrow raised, like he'd expected something and she'd failed. She didn't understand. "You need to go pee." At her continued confusion he sighed, "Sex-ed has failed another generation it seems. Just do as I say Eliza."
"Yes sir." She turned away from him and walked towards the exit, making a stop at the bathrooms.