Page 9 of Sinful Lessons

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GAVRIL

The knock at the door stiffens my spine as adrenaline pulses through my veins. Whenever I get a knock at the door during a free period, it’s always a student being sent for punishment. My blood lust from earlier this morning when I punished that boy still hasn’t cleared.

I clear my throat. “Who is it?”

“Camilla Morrone.”

The blood rushes south at the sound of her voice and heat slams into me like a freight train. It’s my luck that it would be her while I’m struggling to maintain control of my sadistic urges.

Could she really be here for a punishment session?

Merely forty minutes ago she stood in front of me and handed me her essay, which ironically I’m grading now. She barely masked the disappointment on her face as I snatched it from her without really paying her much attention and told her to get to her next class.

I realize I’ve been silent too long when her voice calls again from the other side of the door. “May I come in?”

The sweet sound of her voice makes my cock harder than it’s ever been, as awareness skates down my spine. “Of course, come in,” I call, hating the gruff tone of my voice.

No one has sent Camilla to my office since she was in ninth grade. I know she was ashamed that day. Confused by the natural sensations she experienced from my rough treatment of her.

I’m guilty of many things, but I’ve never been a pervert. And yet I couldn’t forget the way she rubbed her thighs together harder with each lash of my whip. A natural born masochist. It was difficult to ignore. Even harder to forget.

Camilla opens the door, looking tentative as she steps inside. Every muscle in my body turns rigid, as she’s not dressed in the SA uniform. Instead, she’s in her sports kit, which means she must have been in Archer’s combat class or gym. The SA sports kit for the girls comprises a too short skirt and too tight fucking top that leaves nothing to the imagination, especially with a curvy girl like Camilla wearing it. Of course, Archer had a hand in the design because he’s a dirty son of a bitch.

“How can I help you, Miss Morrone?” I ask, fighting against questionable urges clawing at my insides.

“Coach Daniels sent me for punishment, sir.”

My pants get tighter as she licks her bottom lip, placing her hands behind her back and looking innocent. “What did you do?”

She shrugs. “I spoke out of turn.”

I arch a brow. “That’s unlike you, Camilla.” Although Camilla is no grade-a student, she isn’t usually insolent or bratty, like some students can be. I know a lot of the girls here at the academy can’t be bothered, because they know the fate they’ll face after graduation.

An arranged marriage to someone who gives their family political, financial or power gains. They aren’t motivated enough to work hard, except for the ones who expect to lead or become part of the hierarchy within their family.

I stand then and walk to the other side of the desk, leaning against it so there’s less distance between us. “What exactly did you say?”

Her cheeks turn a dark red as she stares at me in what seems like surprise. “I don’t think I should repeat it to you, sir.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “I’m asking you to repeat it.”

She turns uncharacteristically shy as she wraps a strand of hair around her finger mindlessly. “He told me to stop talking.” She shrugs. “I told him to stop sexually harassing my friend and trying to get her to suck his cock.”

The wordcockon her lips makes my own twitch in my pants as I narrow my eyes. “Well, I can’t deny that you shouldn’t talk back to a teacher, but it’s not like that was a lie. I assume we’re talking of Miss Vasquez?”

She nods, glancing at me with a hint of surprise in her expression. “Yes.”

Archer has been after her since the start of the year. It’s clear she’s a tough cookie to crack, but Archer is persistent. “Very well. Did he confirm what kind of punishment he expects me to give you?”

Camilla’s eyes are wide as she shakes her head. “No.”

“Okay.” I clench my fists by my side, knowing that once the words on the tip of my tongue escape, there’s no turning back. “Let’s go down into the basement,” I say, despite every part of me screaming that it’s a bad idea to take her down there, especially as I’m so on edge today and already semi-hard.

Her throat bobs, and she bows her head. “Of course, sir.”

She’s so fucking submissive it makes my balls ache. I walk out of my office and into my classroom next door, heading for the door down into the basement. Oak assigned me this classroom because of the basement adjoining it, and my skills for punishment.


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