no longer there. I suspect he never was.
Whether in class or the hallway, you treated everyone the same, from lowly non-English students, to returning students you mentored year after year, to fellow professors. You never acted differently, until it was just you and me behind your locked office door.
That's when the real Conn peeked out.
I loved him as much as the professor, even if you scared me half to death.
I wear a mask now, putting on an “everything's okay” face as soon as I get out of bed in the morning. I hate that damned mask. I hate pretending, losing myself a little more each day.
I'm scared, Conn. I'm scared that I'll forget who I am until I am the mask. You're the only man who ever saw the real me. I hold on to her, but I feel her slipping a little more each day beneath this cold, numbing mask.
The night I stop dreaming about you will be the morning I don't have to put the mask on any longer. I'll be a zombie, then, a ghost, the girl you knew dead and buried beneath a false façade of vapid smiles and broken dreams.
I wish you could bend me back over your desk and spank me until I feel again. Help me, Conn. Help me remember who I am.
~ Rae
Sitting down at their table in the semi-private darkened alcove of Mythos, Rae glanced about the restaurant. Greek statues, arches, carved cherubs, even mosaics decorated the elegant restaurant, but she didn't pay much attention to them.
Everybody in the restaurant was staring at them.
Conn scooted her chair in and she snagged his arm, drawing him down to whisper in his ear. “Why's everybody staring at us?"
Chuckling softly, he kissed her cheek and moved to sit beside her. “Because you're gorgeous, darlin'."
Her heart skipped a beat and shot off to the races. “The dress isn't too much?"
"Oh, it's too much alright. But you look gorgeous in it, Rae. You're giving off a divine mixture of innocence and seductress that's driving every poor man in this restaurant insane."
"What about you?"
"Well, darlin', I'm imagining turning you over my knee."
Heat scalded her cheeks and she quickly buried her face in the menu, hoping to hide. “I knew you'd hate this dress. I tried to tell Miss Belle—"
"I don't hate it, Rae.” He slid his hand beneath the table and stroked her thigh beneath the skirt. “I love it. It's perfect and she knew it. And I still want to spank your delectable ass while I find out whether you wore anything beneath it or not."
Heat pounded through her, heart racing, palms—and other areas—dampening. Sparing a furtive glance at the other patrons, she hesitated. She needed answers, especially about what had happened in his office that day. Perhaps in public would be for the best, as long as they whispered. No one sat close enough to overhear, and at least he couldn't actually act on what they were talking about. “Did you spank other students?"
"Now that's a very interesting question.” Conn laid the menu down. “These past years, I've worked harder at understanding myself, what makes me tick. I learned how I should have proceeded with a woman like you."
Tired of scanning the menu, she laid hers down and took a sip of water. Not sure she really wanted to know, she asked, “Like me?"
"Eager to please, untrained and unsure, afraid of and attracted to a big bad man like me.” He laughed softly at the look on her face, whatever it was, and took her hand in his. “I took a few trips for conferences these past years and made connections with people who could help me."
She frowned, trying to imagine him asking for help. “With what?"
He leaned closer and whispered, “Kinky shit."
The waiter came over. Blood was pounding and rushing in her ears too loudly for her to hear what Conn told him. Nodding, the waiter left them alone once more.
"I needed help figuring out how to break you in, so to speak, if I ever tracked you down again. I needed help reining myself in, the proper things I should do to ensure you're safe and unafraid. The
Whether in class or the hallway, you treated everyone the same, from lowly non-English students, to returning students you mentored year after year, to fellow professors. You never acted differently, until it was just you and me behind your locked office door.
That's when the real Conn peeked out.
I loved him as much as the professor, even if you scared me half to death.
I wear a mask now, putting on an “everything's okay” face as soon as I get out of bed in the morning. I hate that damned mask. I hate pretending, losing myself a little more each day.
I'm scared, Conn. I'm scared that I'll forget who I am until I am the mask. You're the only man who ever saw the real me. I hold on to her, but I feel her slipping a little more each day beneath this cold, numbing mask.
The night I stop dreaming about you will be the morning I don't have to put the mask on any longer. I'll be a zombie, then, a ghost, the girl you knew dead and buried beneath a false façade of vapid smiles and broken dreams.
I wish you could bend me back over your desk and spank me until I feel again. Help me, Conn. Help me remember who I am.
~ Rae
Sitting down at their table in the semi-private darkened alcove of Mythos, Rae glanced about the restaurant. Greek statues, arches, carved cherubs, even mosaics decorated the elegant restaurant, but she didn't pay much attention to them.
Everybody in the restaurant was staring at them.
Conn scooted her chair in and she snagged his arm, drawing him down to whisper in his ear. “Why's everybody staring at us?"
Chuckling softly, he kissed her cheek and moved to sit beside her. “Because you're gorgeous, darlin'."
Her heart skipped a beat and shot off to the races. “The dress isn't too much?"
"Oh, it's too much alright. But you look gorgeous in it, Rae. You're giving off a divine mixture of innocence and seductress that's driving every poor man in this restaurant insane."
"What about you?"
"Well, darlin', I'm imagining turning you over my knee."
Heat scalded her cheeks and she quickly buried her face in the menu, hoping to hide. “I knew you'd hate this dress. I tried to tell Miss Belle—"
"I don't hate it, Rae.” He slid his hand beneath the table and stroked her thigh beneath the skirt. “I love it. It's perfect and she knew it. And I still want to spank your delectable ass while I find out whether you wore anything beneath it or not."
Heat pounded through her, heart racing, palms—and other areas—dampening. Sparing a furtive glance at the other patrons, she hesitated. She needed answers, especially about what had happened in his office that day. Perhaps in public would be for the best, as long as they whispered. No one sat close enough to overhear, and at least he couldn't actually act on what they were talking about. “Did you spank other students?"
"Now that's a very interesting question.” Conn laid the menu down. “These past years, I've worked harder at understanding myself, what makes me tick. I learned how I should have proceeded with a woman like you."
Tired of scanning the menu, she laid hers down and took a sip of water. Not sure she really wanted to know, she asked, “Like me?"
"Eager to please, untrained and unsure, afraid of and attracted to a big bad man like me.” He laughed softly at the look on her face, whatever it was, and took her hand in his. “I took a few trips for conferences these past years and made connections with people who could help me."
She frowned, trying to imagine him asking for help. “With what?"
He leaned closer and whispered, “Kinky shit."
The waiter came over. Blood was pounding and rushing in her ears too loudly for her to hear what Conn told him. Nodding, the waiter left them alone once more.
"I needed help figuring out how to break you in, so to speak, if I ever tracked you down again. I needed help reining myself in, the proper things I should do to ensure you're safe and unafraid. The
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