Under The Scarlet Moon

I thought a long time before I began to speak. I stared at my toes and then KC’s face, then my toes again. I took a deep breath.

“Rossi,” getting the name out was the worst. Getting that done, maybe I could do the rest. “He was a professor in the Architecture Department and my advisor. I did drawings, lots of them off the cuff, but nothing by the book. I hated studying. But I liked original design—except that my creations were too outrageous to produce, ‘undoable, impractical, he said. Filled with flaws and ignorant mistakes,’ I deign to quote. He was a particular man, with peculiar flaws; but I didn’t see any of them, especially since I needed his approval to get my degree—and I was in total awe of his skill and abilities as an architect. He was handsome, ruthless, unconventional, twenty years my senior and completely in charge of me. He began as my senior advisor, and transferred himself to my graduate classes. He insinuated himself into my life a piece at a time…” I stopped. How much should I say? Each remembrance took me further back, each word seeming to incriminate me as though I were confessing crimes not post-adolescent sexual confusion.

“Go on,” KC prompted me.

“His first move felt like blackmail, though I knew he had been advancing on me for a good reason. I would have failed that semester at the end of my junior year, and I wouldn’t have gone back to school. I wouldn’t have had the guts or the tenacity to recover from the mincemeat I made of myself. I wasn’t on drugs, but it probably looked as though I were. I did hit the bottle occasionally, but I wasn’t getting drunk. I was lazy, and irresponsible, completely undisciplined, and scornful of anyone’s attempts to enforce rules with me.

“But then, it came down to survival. I hated my parents. I didn’t want their money, and when I finally faced facts, I realized that without a career I couldn’t afford my life, and without some structure to my life I’d never have a career. Rossi got to that point with me in one very remarkable meeting…”

“You’re failing, Miss Henry,” the professor rounded his desk and strolled about his ungracious student. “Despite your attempts this summer, you are still only slipping by in this discipline. Perhaps that alone is the problem here, you think?” He came on her eye to eye. She didn’t blink, but she was shriveling inside worried that he spoke the truth. “You don’t think of architecture as a discipline, but a hobby you ignorantly suppose is going to pay you big bucks. You’re used to a pampered life; you’re used to your fancy clothes and jet-set summers and dinners in expensive restaurants. But the only way you’ll have that life now is to mooch off your parents. I was given to understand that you didn’t want that. You sat in my office a few months ago, practically crying your eyes out, pleading with me to keep you in the department in spite of your failing test scores and your less than adequate skills in sound architectural design. You promised me results; you gave me little. You took off in the middle of an assignment, offering me slipshod blueprints as compensation for my time. You should be embarrassed working alongside the other students who have worked hard and raised their grades. What’s worse—you just don’t seem to get my message.”

“Oh, but I do now, sir; and I’m sorry.”

“Sorry is not enough.”

“But it’s all I can say.”

“Maybe you should try waiting tables, Miss Henry, because that’s all you’ll be good for—though I’m not even sure you’d be good at that. You have no stamina. You have no focus. You can’t seem to organize anything, and you’re unreliable. Other than a smattering of artistic talent, I can’t really think of anything to recommend that I keep you in the department.”

She sighed distressed by his remarks, “I ask for just one more reprieve, sir. Just this one thing.”

He waltzed about her trembling body inspecting every sensuous line—admiring, yes, but critical. Perhaps she was just too beautiful—gleaming auburn hair, naturally curled lashes, green eyes, and porcelain skin. He’d never seen a more flawless creature. He’d seen many lovely female students come through his department, but none had quite her allure. Still, he could feel her recklessness as though a cloud formed around her and she breathed discontent and frenzied misbehavior. There was a playful, even childish aspect to her restlessness, perhaps still a child inside her womanly frame. He was stirred by her as much as annoyed.

“And what assurance would I have that you’ve changed any of your bad habits, Miss Henry?”

“I don’t know that I could give you anything but my word.”

“That has proven to be worthless,” he reminded her.

She gulped nervously, palms sweating, heart beating rapidly, even pounding at her temples. She knew she would come to this kind of miserable end eventually; by living as though some angel would suddenly swoop down to rescue her, she ignored the facts of her failure for months.

more sincerely than

were nearly the same height, though he seemed to loom over her

your request is if you’d put yourself in a strict probationary program with me, allowing me liberties with your life that you would not ordinarily give to

would that mean?” she asked, feeling both bewildered and

there is a strict understanding between the student in question and myself. I have found, however, with women like yourself, who have a

no demand for these measures, they would be completely voluntary on your part; you would sign an appropriate waver stating so, but if you need to pursue your future as an architect with this institution—a fact which you seem to insist on—the only way I would allow you to continue

“Corporal punishment?”

paddled or caned

“If I mess up?”

study time and other areas of your personal life. I would, Miss Henry, own your existence until you complete your exams next spring. You would not only finish all the requirements of your senior year, you would, as well, make up what you could not adequately complete this year, including retesting in those subjects where your grades are marginal. You would be prepared for graduate study—which is almost required for the kind of work you want to do.” He stopped, took a deep breath, and finally finished, “It’s up to you. If you’d like, you can think about it for a few days, but no more than that. If you agree to this, we need to get

her thighs and bottom began to tingle with a delightful physical sensation. All this took her completely off guard, as

tended to get her into trouble. But with Professor Rossi? What trouble could there be in ensuring her future success? “I’ll do it, sir,”

truly amazed that she would agree. “All right, then. You understand that I will insinuate myself into your life until you’ll likely be sick of me. That might be difficult for

he was also opening a door… “I don’t know why I’m doing this, Professor Rossi, but I will. Maybe it’s foolish, but it couldn’t be any more foolish than a lot of other things I’ve done—like spending three years in this university and

start today. You can take your first punishment now. Consider it a measure to

“Now? Start now?”

“Yes.”

to stammer, ”there something I’m supposed

is about your becoming more disciplined, about learning to submit to my requirements,” he spoke so softly. Each word seemed carefully chosen, each awakening another place of sensation. She was enthralled by the look of his hand, and the paddle, even as her mind was enthralled by the sound of his voice. “I can get you what you desire. I can make your life heaven or hell. You’ll learn the most amazing things about yourself; more than you ever thought was there.” He

she whispered

Now step forward, Miss Henry, to the front of my desk,” Rossi instructed, as he moved behind her. “I want you to raise your skirt and bend over. I’ll

answered. Her voice sounded so

then, I’ll have little to do but redden your

slowly fingered her white denim skirt, and drew it over her hips. The material bunched about her waist. Her physical response was alarming. She had no

her first

lady,” Rossi

struck again as a bright and stinging warmth spread across her ass. Another strike, the sensation became more vivid. More smacks, and she was struggling to stay put, struggling to keep quiet when she was about