Chapter Three

He came out from under the desk with the spider clasped in his cupped hands. As he walked away, I blushed furiously, hoping he hadn't noticed my lack of underwear. When he turned back round, he carried on as if nothing had happened and I slowly began to relax.

I still struggled to concentrate on the work, my body not letting me forget for a moment that I had no panties on. But at least I wasn't about to be thrown off the course for indecent exposure. I could picture it, the thought making me cringe, my toes curling as I pictured standing in front of a disciplinary committee. "Donna, we are going to have to let you go from this institution. We do not allow sluts to study here."

Me having to pack my bags and return to my family in shame, not able to tell them what I'd done.

I looked up. The entire room was silent. Everyone was looking at me, including Mr Shepherd. "Sorry," I said, realising he was waiting for an answer to something. "I think I missed that."

"I asked if you wouldn't mind staying behind?"

I glanced at the clock on the wall. The lecture had finished. How had that happened? There was half an hour to go last time I looked. The students around me began leaving, some of them muttering to themselves. "Doesn't even listen."

"What's the point of even being here?"

I stood up too, walking to the end of the row, taking tiny steps, wishing my skirt was longer, feeling sure everyone could tell I wore nothing under it. I stepped down onto the floor as everyone else filed out. Mr Shepherd paid me no heed, pushing his papers back into his bag until the room was emptied.

We were alone. Only when the door swung shut did he turn and face me, leaning back on the desk and folding his arms. "What's going on, Donna?"

He remembered my name. That was something.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"I asked you three times if you'd stay behind and you didn't even look at me. It was like you were lost in your own little world." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a second. "Are you all right, Donna? Problems at home?"

"No, nothing like that."

"What is it then? I've looked at your results and you're doing fine in every class but mine, I can't understand why. Help me understand."

I wanted to tell him. I was screaming inside my head. I want to fuck you. I want you to tear my clothes off me right here and now. Every time I look at you, I melt inside and all I can think about is wrapping my lips around your cock.

"I don't know," I said out loud, shifting my feet in place.

"Your last essay was appallingly bad."

"It was?"

He nodded. "Did you think it was all right? I wouldn't expect that level of work from a first year and you're heading towards graduation."

"I'm...sorry," I said, feeling myself wilting as his voice grew louder.

"You won't graduate if you don't pass my class, you do know that, don't you?"

"But I can get a compensation pass, can't I? Even if I fail your one, I mean."

"Only if you get thirty-five to forty. Anything under that and no one can help you."

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say. All of a sudden, I felt like a little girl, being told off by her teacher. I wanted to cry.

He held out a paper that I recognised as mine. "I'm giving you one week to get this up to scratch. You want to write about lust versus love and you talk as if you've never experienced either."

You've no idea, I thought to myself. No idea at all.

"The best work comes from the heart," he continued. "I know you're capable of doing better."

"You really think so?" I tried to keep the hope out of my voice.

"But this is shit, I mean really shit. The worst piece of work it has ever been my misfortune to try and read through."

"I did my best, really I did."

"No, you didn't. It reads like you've not listened to a single thing I've said all year. And to cap it all, today you just ignored me when I was speaking to you. I've never had a student do that before."

"I said I was sorry, Mr Shepherd. I'm not sure what else you want to say." I could feel the tears forming. I couldn't help it. He looked so angry, almost snarling at me when all I wanted to do was please him. I didn't want to have a crush on him. I didn't want to risk failing at my degree, wasting all the time and money that had been spent on me. I wanted to concentrate, not act like a girl with a crush on a pop star.

Christ, pop star. I sound so old.

"You're not listening now," he said, tapping my shoulder. "Are you?"

"I am, I promise I am."

"What did I just say?"

"That my essay is not good enough."

"And after that?"

"I...I don't know."

"Exactly. You know, back in my day, you'd have been in line for corporal punishment for such a poor show, Donna. Do you realise that? I went to the same school as you, did you know that? And when I went there, they still had the cane and the slipper in use. You're lucky we're not as barbaric as that anymore or you'd have been sent screaming out of here."

I tuned out again, unable to stop thinking about bending over for him. It wasn't a cane in his hand, it was just his palm slapping down on my ass, spanking it bright red as I...

"See, you've gone again. Get out, Donna. I can see there's no point trying to solve this. Don't bother coming back to my class until you have a better attitude."

"Please," I mumbled, the tears that had been welling in my eyes began their journey down their cheeks as I muttered another apology.

"Out!"

I turned to go, sobbing loudly. I was halfway across the room when I heard him shout my name.

"Donna, stop."

I turned, sniffing loudly as I did so.

"Get yourself together over the weekend. Come to my office at eleven o'clock Monday after the lecture. We'll see if we can sort this out, all right?"

I nodded, turning away again and hurrying out before he changed his mind. One thing was clear, any thought that I had that he had a crush on me had gone. He couldn't have made it any clearer that he despised me, only throwing me a bone of pity at the end to assuage his guilt for making me cry. I stopped in the corridor and wiped my cheeks before running to the girl's toilets to fix my make up.