This is my very first story. I hope that you enjoy it!
~Purr
---
Serene was devastated when she arrived home from her afternoon class at Harvard. How in the world did she get a B on that final for European History? She did everything the professor said. She studied every day, met with a group three times a week to cram, and had attended every class. She needed to maintain her 3.5 to keep her scholarship and she was starting to slip.
Serene was the first of her family to go to college. Her father was in jail for stealing cars, and her mother was a drunk. Everything Serene wanted in life was on the line, dependent on a scholarship she had won through an essay competition. Losing her scholarship would ruin everything.
She didn't want to resort to some of the harsher methods of getting the grades she wanted. She remembered how one time in high school, she set fire to a teacher's house after they refused to let her retake a calculus exam. Other times, she merely paid her father's criminal connections to 'speak' with her teachers.
Serene was far from an innocent girl, but she was trying to do better. She needed to get that A from Dr. Westshire, she did not want to end up like her father stealing cars for a living. She had bigger plans than that.
Inspired by one of her favorite movies,
Cruel Intentions
, she devised a plan to get that A. She stormed through her room searching for the proper supplies. She collected each one of the devices she would need: handcuffs, ropes, camera and a gun. She then went to work on getting Dr. Westshire's profile. Her father taught her a neat little trick. Everything you need to know about anyone can be obtained through the internet, unless they were off the grid. But college professors were far from off the grid.
Writing down her professor's address, she then scoped out where his wife worked. Thankfully, he didn't have any children. That would have made this mission much more challenging than she was anticipating. For the rest of the week, she staked out his house taking careful note of the comings and goings of his wife. She worked the midnight shift on Wednesday's, which meant she wouldn't be home until after dawn. This was going to be the day of her plan.
She took her time planning every detail in her head. She would need to make sure he kept quiet through quite a bit of it, but she would allow him some noise. She had heard her classroom friends talk about Dr. Westshire. Apparently, he made a habit of trying to look up girl's skirts in class. When she had asked further about him, she learned that there was a rumor he never gave women in his class an A. Thinking over the gossip, she became furious. That bastard was a sexist. The game was on.
As the days slipped by, she grew more excited about her mission. She would lie in bed at night and think of all the ways she was going to make him regret his decision. She knew how to work men in just the right way to get whatever she wanted, and he was going to be her next target. She knew this plan would work, she was used to using her body as a way to drive men wild.
Wednesday arrived quickly, as Serene arrived at his address. She noticed the last glimpses of sun slowly fade away as she scoped out where to park. Making sure her car was an adequate distance from being noticed, she parked and stepped out. She shivered a little bit from the cold and slipped her hands into her black hoodie as she started walking up the street.
She almost tripped in her 5-inch high heeled, leather boots on a rock in his driveway.She gazed through the front window and saw him slip into his study room. It was obvious that Dr. Westshire had acquired quite a lot of money during his years teaching at Harvard. His study was quite large, the walls were lined with built-in bookshelves, and in the center of the room sat a large, mahogany desk. To the right side of the room were several chairs, and potted plants. She was careful to note the exact location of each item. When the time came to make her escape, she wanted to be certain nothing was out of place to raise the suspicions of his wife.
She slowly unlocked the back door to the building, using an old lock pick set she got from her father. Sliding into the home, she could hear Dr. Westshire listening to Opera in his study. She crept her way towards the room. Pausing every few seconds, she felt as if the smallest sound would be heard, even though she knew no one was home but him. She crept through the hallway and peered into the study.
Dr. Westshire was hunched over, looking through papers. He had a lean but lanky frame, the type of body that screamed geek to the class. His dark brown hair was ruffled, as if he had been frustrated at someone's assignment. His bluish gray eyes ran over the text of the paper, shaking his head at some obvious error.
She took the gun out of the green satchel that hung at her side. She checked to make sure the semi-compact semi-automatic Smith& Wesson wasn't loaded. She wasn't here to kill poor Dr. Westshire, just to teach him a lesson.
Well, here goes nothing, she thought. She entered the room quietly, making small light steps like a cat. Quickly, she dropped her bag to catch his attention and pointed the gun at him.
"Good evening, Dr. Westshire," she said, assessing his reaction. He seemed to be very calm. When he noticed her, he merely sat back in his chair and lowered his reading glasses.
"Well.. good evening, Serene, he replied.
Taken aback by his calm manner, she repeated the plan in her head:
Talk firmly; tie him to chair; scare him; tease him with what he can't have; get a little bit of video footage; threaten to show wife; then get the hell out.
Cautiously, she moved closer to him. "Do you know why I am here?"
"I am assuming you are either unhappy with a grade I have given you, or you have a really boring social life, Serene," he responded, removing his glasses and setting them on the table. She could feel his eyes glancing over her body.
"You are damn right I am unhappy with your sexist grade, you creep! Now, place your hands on the sides of your chair. Don't think for one second, that I wouldn't shoot you."
She reached down into her bag and grabbed the handcuffs, she had packed. She watched as Dr. Westshire, did exactly as he was told.
"Do you need help using those cuffs? I could instruct you on a better way to apply them." He said with a smirk.
She shook her head, frustrated by his nonchalant attitude toward his predicament. He was supposed to be frightened. What the hell was she doing wrong?
Calm yourself, stick to the plan.
With one hand she held the gun pointing it directly at him. With the other she tossed him one set of cuffs.
"I think you need to shut up, Dr. Westshire, and do as you're told!" she spat at him. "Or should I call you Peter?"
He raised one eyebrow while catching the cuffs and then said, "I can think of other names you could call me."
"Cuff your right hand to the chair," she demanded, moving quickly to grab the other set of cuffs without taking her eyes from his actions.
The room seemed to have grew darker as events proceeded, and she wasn't sure whether it was because of the lateness of the house or her own paranoia.
She watched as he cuffed his wrist and then just sat quietly watching her. She moved slowly to his side and grabbed his left wrist, cuffing it in place. She noticed her breathing had rapidly increased as she was becoming more nervous. She desperately tried not to let her hands shake as she followed her plan. She only needed a little bit of video footage and she would be all set.
With both of his hands cuffed firmly to the chair, she set the gun down and moved to grab the rope from the bag. As she leaned over to tie his legs to the chair, she realized the rope was much thicker than she had first imagined. In fact, she wasn't quite sure the knots would hold if he struggled too much. It was too late to worry about that, she thought.
She left the gun on the desk and moved the bag to her side. Westshire's eyes glared at her, as if he knew some sort of secret that she didn't. It unnerved her. She heard her heart beating above the sound of his opera music.
She quickly pulled out the camera, set it next to the gun, and slipped off her black hoodie to reveal a sexy, negligee top. It was a see-thru mesh, which fitted snugly against her large, round breasts like a tank top. It matched perfectly with her short, black leather skirt and fishnet stockings.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Westshire's tongue dart out across his lips, and realized the coldness of the room had made both her nipples harden into little pink buds. She rolled her eyes at him, "Yes, you probably do like this. Well, guess what? This isn't because of you. It's because I am cold. Someone like you could never get me aroused, Peter."
She swallowed a bit, worried that he would notice she was lying. She was aroused the minute she had walked into the room.
"Really, my dear? Is that a challenge?" he grinned at her and she felt her body tingle. Is he insane? Doesn't he realize I have a gun? She looked over his body again, noticing the obvious erection he had straining against his trousers.
She took a few deep breaths. Then she whispered close to his ear, "If you say one more word, It will be your last."
She paused for a moment to gain composure for what she had to do next, and set the camera to start recording. Now, it was time for the acting.
She walked in front of the camera, directly in front of peter, and leaned over so her chest was close to his face. "Mmm, Peter...I have wanted you for so long now. I just never wanted for your wife to know."
She moved her mouth over his before he could say anything, and slid her tongue against his. She was taken by surprise when he proceeded to kiss her vigorously, his tongue assaulting hers.
She moved her legs onto the chair and ground against the hardness in his pants for minutes, mimicking the actions of sex. She felt her body quiver a little at the feel of his stiffness, and realized it had been a long time since she had been this close to a guy. What was her plan again? She started to lose her thoughts as she felt his body rub against hers.
She moved both hands behind her to his knees and arched backwards away from him. Looking at the camera, she realized she had all that she really needed to blackmail him. She could edit the rest to make it look like the film had run out and cut short.
She sat upright and started to dismount him, when she noticed he looked like he was about to say something but then didn't.
