Victor walked into the classroom late. It rarely ever happens. He prides himself on being a punctual and organized man, and the very thought of something unexpected interfering with his plans makes his blood boil. Fuckin' traffic. He curses silently as he drops his suitcase onto the desk.

The class is already seated, a low hum of chatter and laughter filling the room as if this were some kind of casual gathering and not his lecture. Victor clears his throat, and the noise dies instantly. All eyes are on him. Good.

"I trust everyone has done the reading I assigned." His tone is sharp, his voice low and firm. He doesn't bother masking the irritation simmering beneath the surface; they should know he's not in the mood for nonsense today. "The story you've acquainted yourselves with is a short yet curious piece. It's rich with symbolism and explores key aspects of life. We're going to examine all of it in detail."

He turns to the board and writes the topic of today's lecture in bold, precise letters. When he's done, he strides back to the desk, opening his suitcase to pull out some notes and a book. As he flips through the pages, his eyes scan the room for the first time since he arrived. The students sit quietly, their attention fixed on him. Just as it should be. At least they're behaving today. But Victor isn't looking at the group as a whole — there's someone specific he's searching for, someone whose presence always steadies him.

And there she is. Sitting in her usual spot by the wall. Beautiful as always. Radiant, young, utterly captivating. His little favorite. Even her mere presence pleases him.

For a brief moment, his frustration fades. Then his eyes drift lower, and everything stills. The book in his hand freezes mid-page as he sees it. She's wearing the collar.

And she's wearing it in his class.

That little minx has hidden it under a turtleneck, keeping it discreet — until now. She's pulled the fabric down just enough to expose it, just enough for him to see. And she's smiling. A faint, knowing smirk plays on her lips, daring him.

She's doing this on purpose. Testing him. Teasing him. That little bitch.

Victor's jaw tightens as he inhales slowly, fighting to maintain his composure. The collar. Symbol of her submission, a vow, a promise. The very one he put on her neck while explaining the rules of their agreement just moments before he fucked her senseless on the desk in his office. It had been so easy to draw her in, to bend her to his will. A few well-placed compliments about her intelligence and charm. Private lessons, a shared glass of wine — sweet and intoxicating, much like her. Promises of better grades, glowing recommendations, scholarships, and even the dream job she longed for. All of it offered under one condition: she would give herself to him entirely. She would wear the collar and become his little pet, obey his every command, please him and embrace him as her owner, her master. She'd agreed eagerly, and in time, the little slut come to enjoy their arrangement. Too much, perhaps. Now, she was growing bold. Forgetting her place.

They had agreed — the collar was never to be worn to class. He couldn't risk raising suspicion or provoking uncomfortable questions about their relationship. She was his pet, yes, but she was also his student. A single slip could destroy his career, his reputation. And yet, here she is, playing a dangerous game. And Victor doesn't like it. Not. One. Bit.

Victor tightens his grip on the book, his knuckles going white as anger ripples through him. He forces himself to breathe, vivid images of her punishment flashing through his mind, one more intense than the other. No. Not in front of the entire class. But he can't resist the urge to remind her, in some small way, of her place. To make her squirm just a little before he can have a conversation with her. In private.

He clears his throat, his voice cutting through the silence like ice.

"Why don't you share your thoughts on the protagonist's actions? They tend to misbehave — deliberately defying rules and societal expectations. Why do you think that is? And what do you believe should happen to those who disobey?"