Teach Me a Lesson

“Is this…?”

“Yeah, come in!”

“Hey, I’m so sorry I’m late—”

“Hi, no, no worries at all.”

“You’re Professor Becker?”

“Ah, please, call me Roman. No need for all the pleasantries.”

“Oh, hey, congratulations on the recent tenure, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah, thank you. It’s… well, it’s being bound to one institution for the rest of my career. So, not sure if congratulations are the right fit, maybe condolences are more appropriate.”

You’re… not at all what I expected. When I put out that email to the grad student listser looking for a German tutor, I was thinking, like, a native undergrad or maybe one of the TAs in the German department could help me out.

The only reply I got was from someone in my cohort suggesting you, the newly-tenured philosophy professor, would be happy to help.

And, yeah, I’ll admit, I had this picture in my head of an older German guy in a tweed suit with little patches on the elbows. Maybe smoking from an old-timey pipe, surrounded by leather-bound books.

Stupid, naive, I know. But… yeah. You’re far from that.

You’re disheveled and there are little patches of white hair around your temples. Plain white t-shirt under your blazer. Black boots.

You just look more like best friend’s dad with a cool record collection than you do tenured philosophy professor.

“So, your email. Can you remind me—you’re going to Dresden for a…?”

“Research fellowship. Yeah, it’s kind of last minute. I wasn’t planning on applying, but my advisor kept insisting, and then… yeah, I got it. So, I’ve got my German basics down pretty well, but I could really use some help with higher-level research terms, stuff that will let me actually communicate with the people I’ll be working with.”

“What kind of research do you do?”

“Um, psychology. Specifically sexual identity development and desire discrepancy.”

“Ah, okay, so we have some parallels in work, then. I’ve been trying to push for a philosophy of psychology course in the department but no luck so far.”

“Maybe I’ll suggest a psychology of philosophy to my department chair next time I see her.”

“Very good. Well, let’s see if we can teach you something useful today.”

Your voice is… nice, and… I can’t tell for sure, but I feel like your eyes are lingering on me. You’re taking me in… observing me as you talk.

But it feels good. It feels easy—being with you.

There’s just a comfort that I don’t normally feel with other professors. Like you’re just… some guy… as opposed to a nationally-recognized philosopher with three books and a Mellon grant under your belt.

It’s no secret the university is… Mm, how to put this lightly… a magnet for tight asses.

The prestige is definitely part of why I wanted to do my PhD here, but, damn, it’s so intense sometimes. Always having to perform this role, take part in the bizarre academic hierarchy where the people with the most accomplishments are treated like gods.

I really can’t imagine what you’re doing here in a place like this. You seem like you’re above it all. Almost like you stumbled into it.

“Okay, hold on a second, let me find a pen and… my notebook…”

You tell me you’re going to write out some relevant terms I’ll need to know. Stuff about psychology, research, that kind of thing.

You’re saying the words out loud as you write them, repeating them to me, asking me to repeat them… but I’m finding it hard to focus.

I might be overthinking this, but… it feels like there’s been a subtle change in our… dynamic… since you started the lesson.

Your eyes… they’re meeting mine more frequently. They’re really striking. And your mouth curls up in this… little smirk almost… when I get one of your questions wrong. Not like you’re making fun of me or anything, but like… you’re just amused by me or something.

God, I… I really can’t figure you out…

Damn, I haven’t really been paying attention to what you’re saying. And… I think you just asked me a question…

“So, ‘I am here for a research fellowship’ would be…?”

“Ah… Ich bin hier für… ein…”

“Ein…?”

“Ein…Wissen…? Wissensstipendium. Sorry, I’m… it’s been a long day.”

“Ein Forschungsstipendium. Looks like you have some studying to do.”

“Yeah, I, um… I… need to be taught a lesson.”

“Yeah… you do…”

My mouth is suddenly very dry. You… I imagine you’re kidding, but… maybe you’re not.

Why did I say that? Did I cross a line just now? Did you?

Either way… I’m very much hoping you’re being serious because… wow. The idea of you… I don’t know… spanking me for getting a vocabulary word wrong is doing something to me.

That was… bold, very bold of you, both of us really, given the whole ethics of this little arrangement. Then again, it’s not like you’re my professor. Technically, you’re just a colleague who works in another department…

The fact that you’re tutoring me is… irrelevant…

“In psychology, we call that negative reinforcement… and it’s not a very effective teaching method.”

“No? Then, what is?”

“Well, positive reinforcement, for one. For example, totally hypothetically… spanking someone for mispronunciation during their German lesson is less effective than… say… calling her a good girl when she uses a correct verb tense…”

“Good to know.”

It’s suddenly feeling a little warm in here. What just happened between us?

I might be totally off, but… I get the sense that there’s some mutual understanding between us. Like, we both know what’s happening, but neither of us is willing to make the first move.

“How about we take a… brief break, hm? Give your mind a few moments to rest.”

“Yeah… sure.”

You stand up from your desk and stretch your arms above your head. It’s probably been a long day for you, too.

Your body is lean, but broad. There’s a solidity to you, but also a softness…

I get up out of my chair and walk over to the tall window behind your desk. The sun is almost completely set and the campus looks dusty and orange from this view.

“So…”

“So…”

“What do you do when you are not thinking about psychology or trying to learn German?”

“Oh… well, not much, to be honest. Research takes up a lot of my time.”

“Ah, but you must have other interests. Even if you neglect them.”

“Yeah, I’m… I’m really into cycling. Like, long-distance, road biking, that kind of thing.”

“Oh, that’s fascinating. As in… fifty, a hundred miles at a time?”

“More than that sometimes. I don’t get out on the road as often as I’d like, but I try to do a twenty-mile circuit around town every Sunday.”

“I love that. You must have great stamina.”

“Yeah, people don’t really believe me when I say it’s relaxing, but it is. It’s just time for me to process the week, think ahead… or not think at all. What about you? What do you do when you’re not philosophizing?”

“I’m always philosophizing, unfortunately. Can’t turn my brain off, it seems. I suppose that’s why I was hired.”

“Hey, I told you my non-academic hobby. Now you have to tell me yours.”

“You can see right through me, huh? Alright, alright, I… I collect comic books. Graded, variant covers, I’m… I’m a bit obsessive about it.”

“Why are you embarrassed about that?”

“I’m not, I’m not! I just… this place, this job, you know. We have images to uphold as… accomplished stiffs, prestigious holders of knowledge. Comic books, they tarnish that reputation a bit.”

“Honestly? I think it’s charming.”

You move closer to me, enough that our shoulders brush as we stand in front of the window. The sunset is really lovely right now, but I keep looking at your face. And I find it much more interesting to look at…

“You look like you’re… thinking about something… very hard…”

“I was actually going to say the same thing about you.”

“Well, like I said, I’m always thinking. And… right now all I can think about is the taste of your lips.”

I lean forward and close the space between us before you can. No thinking. Just doing.

“Don’t think so hard.”

Your mouth is warm and inviting. You’re doing this little thing… sucking on my bottom lip a little…

You feel so good, but… my mind keeps snapping back to what you said earlier… your little mock threat to punish me… What was that?

And… how can I get more of that from you?

“Do you… want to end the lesson here for today?”

“No… actually, I want to keep going. I think… I… need to be punished… for getting that answer wrong…”

“Yes, you do…”

Oh my god… I… I can’t believe I said that. I can’t believe you agreed.

What are we doing…? What is this… little roleplaying game we just stumbled into?

“Go sit back down.”

My legs are shaking a little as I walk back to the chair in front of your desk.

You come around to the front of the desk and lean back against it, just a foot or so away from me. Your eyes are dark as you look down at me. There’s a new intensity to them that wasn’t there before.

That gaze… fuck, you’re making me squirm in my seat. I’m not really like this with other guys. Not so… eager.

But you just… since the moment I walked into your office, you just… you’re doing something to me.

“Translate this sentence for me: Der Apfel fällt nicht weit vom Stamm.”

“Um… the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree…”

“Very good. That deserves positive reinforcement, as you said…”

You lean forward and place your arms on the side of my chair. You… press your mouth against my neck…

“Now… you know the verb sein, to be?”

“Yeah…”

“Give me the conjugations…”

“Ich… bin. Du bist…”

“Mmhm.”

“Es… ist. Wir seid?”

“Ah, so close, but unfortunately… no. Stand up.”

I stand up and take a couple of steps forward. You nod to the desk, but give me the freedom to choose exactly how I want to position myself. I lean forward and place my hands flat on the cool wooden surface of your desk.

You’re playing this role well… while still letting me set the tone… or mark boundaries…

I can feel your eyes on me, taking in the curve of my hips and the vulnerability of my new position.

You move to stand behind me and… fuck… your lips are right up against my ear.

“I’m going to have to punish you. How do you think I should do it?”

“I think… you should spank me.”

“Yeah? How hard?”

“Hard enough that I… learn my lesson.”

“Harder.”

“Oh… my god…”

I’m… yeah, I’m definitely wet. Every time you bring your hand down against my ass, it’s like… like this jolt goes through me.

The pain… the pleasure… they’re both so intense, I can hardly tell them apart.

“I know you can be good… so… I’m going to give you another chance.”

“Okay…”

“Ich weiß, du bist feucht für mich…”

Your hand hovers against my ass, kneading and circling the curve of each cheek through my jeans. Fuck, I can’t think at all.

“I’m waiting… tell me what it means.”

“A-again, please…”

I squirm a little, pushing my ass towards you, trying to get your fingers to inch between my legs.

“Ich weiß… du bist feucht… für mich…”

“I know… I know you are… something… for me…”

“Wet. I know that you are wet for me…”

“Fuck, please, yes, I’m wet for you. I’m… oh my god, I’m really turned on…”

“Mmm. That’s too bad you didn’t get that one right. You’ll have to prove that you’re a good girl some other way.”

I turn my head to look at you while keeping my palms flat against the desk. Heat rushes to my cheeks as I realize just how good it feels to… I don’t know… slip into this role. My whole body is trembling.

You reach out and… trace a single finger down the curve of my jaw… down my neck. I lean into your touch.

“Please… please touch me…”

Your mouth is hot and demanding as you push me back against your desk. Your hands roam all over my body, starting at my hips.

“Please touch me, professor, please…”

“I love hearing you beg…”

Your hand slips beneath the waistband of my jeans and brushes against my clit. You push my panties to the side and stroke through my folds…

“Oh, you’re so wet for me… good girl…”

I cling tight to you, my nails digging into your back as your fingers work my clit and spread my wetness all around.

“God, you’re so beautiful… Beg some more for me.”

“Yes, professor… oh, fuck, I’m so wet for you… I’m so wet, professor, please, keep going…”

“Look at how wet you are… it’s like you enjoy being punished, huh? Don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do, I love being punished by you, Professor. I fucking love it—”

“Mmm, such a dirty mouth…”

“So punish me… teach me another lesson…”

“Yeah, that’s what you want?”

“Yeah.”

“Turn around.”

I twist back around and put my hands flat against the desk again. This is quickly becoming my new favorite position.

I can feel your cock through your pants pressing up against my ass as you lean into me.

Your mouth is against the back of my neck while you quickly undo your belt and pull down your pants.

“Condom?”

“Yeah, yeah, hold on.”

“Fuck yes, go in me, go in me…”

My knuckles are white as I grip around the edge of the desk, waiting for you to enter me. You press the tip of your dick against my entrance and push… just a little at first… a little more… and… fuck.

Your cock is stretching me wide as you glide in and out of me with short, quick thrusts. Holy—

It feels so good to be so filled up. Fuck, fuck!

“Good girl, oh my god, you’re so good for me…”

I lean forward so I’m bent completely over the desk. You lay your hand against my back, not hard, but enough to make me feel dominated.

“Oh my god, professor!”

I am so lost in you. So lost in the sound of our moans and whatever mindless dirty talk is coming out of us. I push back against you, fucking you just as hard as you’re fucking me.

And then, suddenly, you pull back and I have to bite back a whimper at the loss.

“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop…”

“I think you’ve maybe forgotten who is the professor here and who is the student.”

Your hands are suddenly around my hips, flipping me over onto my back against the desk. I steady myself and put a leg up on the chair behind you. You push your cock inside of me once again, deeper than before.

You’re thrusting harder now, your whole body moving with a fierce, unrelenting rhythm. I can feel myself spiraling out of control… pleasure building deep inside of me.

“Be a good girl and touch that gorgeous clit for me. Make yourself cum.”

I can hardly comprehend what you’re saying, but slip two fingers between our bodies and press hard against my clit while you drive your dick harder and harder into me.

“Yeah, that’s it, that’s it. You’re going to cum for me? Yeah, come on, baby, cum for me.”

“Yeah, I’m going to—fuck, I’m…”

I’m… I don’t know. I’m… I’m not sure what just happened.

Calling you professor? Being your good girl? That’s so not me, but… fuck.

I really loved it, so… maybe it is me.

“Are you…? Was that—”

I’m… fantastic. A little… surprised, but… good.

“Right, yeah… me too. Um, well, I… I think we should most certainly schedule your next German lesson.”

“Soon.”

“Very soon.”

I lean forward and press my mouth against yours.

It’s a kiss much like the first one we shared… soft, almost cautious, But filled with promise of many more to come…