The Professor Day 02 Stories

The Professor

Recap: Molly has approached her former professor on whom she has a deep crush. They exchange stories to explore their fantasies and philosophies as he attempts to rein in her emotions.

Saturday, Day 2

In the morning he called her. "Molly, I need to meet with you. Are you free for lunch? . . . Good. Shall I come by about noon?"

When he arrived, he stepped in the hall of the boarding house. He could hear Molly's agitated voice upstairs. She was arguing with someone. He followed the voices up the stairs.

". . . School just ended yesterday."

"I sent you the notice you last month."

"It's probably here buried in all my school papers. I didn't have time to read it. Do you know what the end of the semester is like - just before graduation, too? "

"That was plenty of notice."

"To find another place to live?"

"Just for a week. Everyone goes on a graduation trip to Europe. Or they go home and visit their parents."

"I don't have parents. I can't afford to go to Europe. I can barely afford your stupid rent!"

"That's not my problem. The workmen are coming tomorrow. You have to be out."

Stephen interjected himself. "Molly, what's the problem?"

"He's kicking me out of my apartment."

"Just for a week. I'm having the place renovated so it will be nicer for her to live in."

"So, he can charge me more."

"And they all complain their rooms need fresh paint and better heat!"

Stephen put his arm around Molly's shoulders and led her inside. "Let's calm down and talk this through." Once he had closed the door she burst into tears.

"Don't worry about me. I've gotten this far by myself, I can make it, or not. I don't care."

"Molly, come stay with me. I have a guest room and live alone, as you have figured out."

"Really? And . . .?"

"Let's solve this problem for the moment. We can worry about other questions later."

"Thank you." She kissed him on the cheek.".

"Pack what you will need for a week. Will he let you store everything else here?"

She shook her head. "I will have to box it up."

"Let's go have lunch and we will come back and do it together."

They came back with some empty boxes from a bookstore. She began by taking out her two suitcases and opening the closet. Stephen was surprised by how few clothes there were - four dresses, a couple of skirts, and maybe a half dozen shirts. "This is all you have?"

"It's enough. I stay within my budget."

He pulled out a short black pleated skirt. "I liked it when you wore this to class."

"You noticed?" She blushed, but smiled.

"I noticed a lot about you."

She emptied her dresser into a single suitcase and packed most of the closet and some shoes in the other. She noticed him briefly examining a pair of black dress sandals with super high spiked heels. She had bought them in a frivolous moment because they had looked sexy. It had been an unbelievably irresponsible purchase on her limited budget. She had never actually worn them because they were intimidating, but now she made mental notes.

Professor thinks they look sexy, so I will enjoy wearing them for him. And a short loose skirt.

She watched him pick up another slim shoe box and peak inside. He lifted out a ballet shoe with its ribbon trailing.

"Are you a dancer?"

"Briefly in high school. Another dream that bit the dust."

The rest of the time was spent putting books and papers into boxes.

Moving into his guestroom was simple. She had brought only her suitcases, a garment bag, and a couple of small boxes. The room was small with a single bed with ornate brass scrolls at the head and foot; a half-empty dresser storing table linens; a nightstand and a chair. She volunteered to take over the kitchen this week in exchange for his hospitality. Stephen was delighted.

After dinner and when the kitchen was clean, Stephen said, "You said you have written other stories. Did you bring them?"

"Sure. Just a minute." She went to her room and returned with several paper-clipped pages. She held them out to him, but he asked her to read aloud.

"The title of this is Trainer." I wrote it a few months ago when things were looking better. I had just gotten my life under more control. I think your attention last year was the only thing that kept me sane. So, this story is about a girl who was messed up and got help from a strong caring person."

"Much more promising."

She gave him a smile and began reading.

Trainer

Donna pulled off the interstate. At the bottom of the ramp her car coasted to a stop as she steered onto the shoulder. "Shit!"

Out of gas. Out of money. I'm hungry and it's two in the morning. Where the fuck am I? Nowheresville Virginia or maybe North Carolina.

She could see the lights of a gas station half a mile ahead.

But you can't steal gas if you can't even drive up to the pump

. She thought about the gun in the glove compartment.

You can't rob a store and then buy gas from it, either

.

She put her purse in her backpack and looked to see that there was nothing in the car to identify her. Probably the police would find it before she could get back to it. Then she got the gun and opened the door. The night air was refreshing and woke her up. She walked away from the lights looking for a secluded house. About twenty minutes down the road she found a mailbox and a driveway that led into darkness.

As good as any.

She walked as quietly as she could beside the gravel until she found a small house surrounded by trees. There was not a light to be seen. She put her pack at the foot of a tree and tried the front door. It was unlocked.

Maybe I'll just be lucky tonight.

She stepped inside, partially closed the door and paused to let her eyes adjust to the darkness. Then a bright light appeared in her face. She raised the gun instinctively.

"Contain. Put it down."

Out of the corner of her eye she noted a shadow moving to her left, but the light blinded her to the source of the voice.

"You're not going to shoot anyone. Put the gun down."

The light moved to her right. She followed it with the gun, but she couldn't turn her back on whatever was on the other side.

"Don't move. Put it down."

She froze, but kept the gun pointed even as the flashlight came toward her. A hand reached into the light and took away the gun.

"Guard." The man lowered the light. She could see him hefting the gun then examining it. "It's not even loaded. And the safety is on. You probably never even shot a gun before, did you? Your just lucky I'm not the kind to shoot first and ask questions later. Now stay there with Willy while I get rid of this thing."

Willy?

Now she dared a look to the left. "Willy" was a large German shepherd. He was emitting a soft deep growl.

The man came back a moment later and turned on the light. He was approaching 50, fully six feet tall, muscular, with a military haircut.

Man, did I pick the wrong house.

He turned her to face the dog and pulled first one, then the other wrist behind her and handcuffed them together. He took her upper arm and propelled her into the kitchen. He turned on the light. The counters and table were covered with dirty dishes and junk mail. Against the far wall was a large cage for Willy. The man pulled a blanket from the bottom of it, shook it, and spread it out on the kitchen floor. He pulled a pillow from under his arm and tossed it to the back of the cage.

"Get in."

"I'm not getting in a fuckin' dog cage."

"You'll do what I tell you to do."

With very little effort he forced her to her knees and she crawled forward into the cage. It was about five feet long and three feet in width and height. She used her shoulder to push the pillow into position and lay on her side. The man closed the door and secured it with a padlock.

"Now let me get some sleep." He paused to rub the dog's head. "Good dog, Willy."

Willy lay on his blanket, face toward Donna.

"Sorry I took your kennel. It wasn't my idea."

The dog's answering growl discouraged any further conversation.

The cage shook. "Time to get up." When she didn't respond he kicked it again.

"What fuckin' time is it?"

"Six-thirty. And you'll not use that language with me."

"I've never seen that hour before."

"The sun's up and you are too." He unlocked the door and opened it. Willy had not moved.

He probably didn't even close his fuckin' eyes

. She groaned and backed into the kitchen. He pulled her to her feet and removed the handcuffs, noting the marks they left. "The bathroom is down the hall. Then we'll talk."

Donna sat on the toilet, then threw some water on her face. She looked around the bathroom for something she could use as a weapon. Finding nothing, she opened the door quietly. The man and Willy were still in the kitchen. She took just a few steps to get into the living room and a few more to the door. It was locked. When she turned around, the man was behind her.

"The kitchen's this way."

"Fuck you." She picked up a figurine from a table and threw it. It missed him and struck the wall. She dodged around his grasp, but found herself facing Willy.

"Guard." Donna and Willy both froze in place.

"Were you going to find the sheriff? I can call him for you."

"God, no."

He took her to the kitchen again and sat her in a chair at the table. He used the handcuffs to secure her ankle to the leg of the chair and turned back to the stove. She sulked while he cooked breakfast.

"How do you like your eggs?"

"Whatever."

He placed a fork and a cup of coffee in front of her. A few moments later he added a plate with two fried eggs and toast. She picked up the fork and was about to attack the food when he stopped her.

"Surely you mother taught you better."

"You don't know fuck what my mother taught me."

"Somewhere along the line someone taught you to say 'thank you.'"

"Thanks."

"Thank you, what?"

"What?"

"Thank you, Sir."

"Thank you, Sir."

"That's better."

He watched as she stuffed half an egg in her mouth and picked up the toast. "When was the last time you ate?"

"What day is today?"

"Monday."

"Probably Saturday."

"You want to tell me about it?" She kept eating. "Not yet then." He cut some melon and made more toast. When she stopped eating, he asked again, "You want to talk?" No response.

"Well I've got things to do. I can't be worried about you right now. He unlocked the handcuffs from her ankle and put them back on her wrists. Then he motioned her back into the cage.

"Not that again."

"Willy will keep you company while I am out." The dog eyed her from his place on the blanket. She got on her knees and crawled in. The man threw the dishes in the sink and left the house. A while later she heard him drive off. Around eleven by the clock on the wall there was a knock on the door. "Jack?" a voice called out. Willy barked in reply. Whoever it was went away.

Jack came back about one, bringing a box of groceries and other bags into the house. After he had put things away, he addressed Donna. "Feeling human yet?"

"Fuck off."

There was another knock at the door. She listened to the conversation.

"Sheriff. What can I do for you?"

"I saw you pull in. We found a stolen vehicle abandoned by the highway exit. The suspect is a girl in her early twenties, wanted for grand theft and possibly murder. White, skinny, five foot six, brown hair. Seen any strangers like that around her?"

"No, I haven't."

"Well, keep an eye out. She ran out of gas and probably hitchhiked to Georgia by now. She might be dangerous. You don't have anything to worry about with Willy here, but you never know."

"If I see anyone I'll call you. Thanks, Sheriff."

"Take care now, Jack."

He returned to the kitchen and regarded the urchin lying on the floor of the cage.

"I didn't do it."

"Didn't do what?"

"I didn't kill nobody. You got to believe me."

"I didn't say you did."

"Sure, I took the car, but I was afraid. It belonged to my boyfriend, anyway."

"Uh-huh."

He fixed a couple of sandwiches and washed a bunch of grapes. "Have some lunch." He opened the cage and waited for her to come out. He uncuffed her and gestured to the table.

She was feeling achy and nauseous. She took a couple of bites. Her hands started to tremble and she vomited onto the floor three times. Jack reached for her shoulders.

"Get the fuck away from me." She swept her arm across the table, sending dishes to the floor. Then she collapsed on the broken china. Jake put his arm under her shoulders and half carried, half dragged her into the bedroom. He set her on the bed where she curled into a fetal position and continued to shake and let out groans. After wiping the vomit off her, he brought a length of rope from the study and a knife. Cutting it into pieces, he proceeded to tie her hands and feet to the corners of the bed. He pushed a towel under her face. She was now spread out face down on the mattress semiconscious. As her body convulsed, she would not be able to hurt herself. If she threw up again, she wouldn't choke on it. He watched her for a while and then left her alone.

She awoke drenched in sweat as the afternoon light faded.

Jack came in a little later. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit."

He freed her and helped her sit up.

"I'll be OK."

"You hungry?"

"Sure."

He went to the kitchen to start dinner while she washed up. He rinsed lettuce for a salad and began cutting vegetables. Willy's ears perked up and he began to slink toward the front door. Then he barked. Donna had made it out the front door and now lay face down in the grass. Willy stood over her growling.

"Good dog, Willy."

"Good fuckin' wolf. Can't you leave me the shit alone?"

"I told you not to use that language with me."

He pulled Donna back into the house, handcuffed her again and set her in a chair. He put leather cuffs about her ankles and attached them with a short chain.

"You're a sick dude. A fuckin' kinky sick dude, man."

"Shut up and listen to me. You are messed up. You are addicted to heroine - I can see by the needle marks. The law is looking for you. Maybe you killed someone, maybe you didn't. I would prefer to think you didn't. And this house is the only place safe for you. If you stay here you will live by my rules. And when you can't obey them you are simply showing me you are not ready to be out there on your own. The sheriff is just a phone call away. You can call him or I can. Now sit there while I finish preparing your dinner. And keep your mouth shut."

Ten minutes later he put a salad and a cup of canned stew on front of her. He freed her hands and they ate in silence.

"Now what are we going to do for fun?" she asked sarcastically.

"I have work to do. Would you like a book or television?"

She shrugged, then held her hands out for the cuffs again. From his broom closet he took out a package. After struggling a few moments with the bubble wrap, he produced a brand new leather dog collar. "I'm guessing you and Willy are about the same size. Stay there." He carried a chain into the living room, then worked on the collar with an awl. When he was done he buckled the collar on her neck and secured it with a small padlock. In the living room he attached a chain on the collar that was attached to the sofa on the other end. The chain was long enough to allow her to walk around the room, with access to the bookshelf and the TV and DVD players.

At 10 he declared it was time for bed and led her back into the kitchen.

"Please not the cage again."

He thought it over. "One more night. I will figure out something different for tomorrow." He watched her crawl in before locking the door.

She was awakened at 6:30 the next morning. Her hands were still free, though she continued to wear the collar and shackles. He fixed ham and grits for her.

"Thank you. Sir." She was learning.

"Care to tell me about why the police are interested in you? And why I am harboring a fugitive?"

"I didn't do it. Honestly. I didn't really know if he was dead."

"If who was?"

"Ricky. My boyfriend. We lived together only a couple of weeks. We both did the stuff, but he had a mean streak. I was planning to leave. I only needed a little bread - money."

"How did you earn money?"

"I had a friend who let me waitress sometimes. I wasn't selling myself, if that's what you're thinking. Anyway, I knew Ricky was getting himself into trouble. He owed some guys money and they were pressing him for it. They started threatening him. One night they beat him up. I started getting phone calls. That's when I knew I had to split. Friday night he didn't come home. Some woman called and said he was hiding in her apartment and wanted me to collect some things for him. I realized then he had been fucking another girl. She said some men were looking for him with guns. He had just stolen a car and wanted to get out of town, but he didn't invite me along. He was going to take her and leave me. Then some men came to my door, so I took the keys, slipped out the back, and drove the hell out of town. Didn't even have time to grab my money. I know it left him in trouble, but I didn't care. He caused his own mess and I didn't want to be mixed up in it.

"I don't know how they connected me with the fuckin' car. I didn't have any money, so when I filled up in New Jersey, I ran out without paying. That must have gotten their attention. Otherwise I just kept driving. I hoped to get some gas here, but I pushed it too far and ran out. That's the honest truth."

"And the gun?"

"It was just in the glove compartment. I wasn't going to use it. Just bluff with it, you know. I didn't know if there were bullets or not."

"Where were you headed?"

"I got a sister in Miami. I was going to join her and start over."

"Is she expecting you?"

"No. She doesn't have a phone. I was just going to show up."

"You have an address."

"No. I thought I'd ask around."

"What does she do?"

Donna squirmed. "She said her boss would take care of me."

"What does she do?"

"She dances some. And works the streets."

"You were going to become a prostitute?"

"It's better than fuckin' dying in Brooklyn. Or sitting in a jail. It's not like I had a choice."

"No other family? No one is missing you?"

She shook her head. He was amazed not by the story, but by the matter-of-fact way she told it.

He put her in the living room tethered to the couch again and took Willy for a walk. She was watching a movie when he returned, but she looked pale.

"You got a drink?"

"Not for you. You're going clean."

"Aww, shit. I've got a bad one coming on."

He unlocked the chain from her collar. "Let's go to the bedroom."

She pulled away. "You're not going to fuckin' tie me down again. You're not a doctor." She picked up her empty plastic mug and swung it in front of her toward him off.

"Calm down. You don't know what you're doing."

"Fuck off." She started trembling.

"Contain."

Willy crouched, ready to pounce. She froze and dropped the mug.

"This way." Jack led her to the bedroom and tied her out on the bed. He sat next to her while the worst of the pain and convulsions passed. Then he left her to sleep.

She was exhausted and sore when she awoke late in the afternoon and had little appetite. He let her stay tethered on the couch while he set up a second bed in the spare room. When he needed to sleep, he joined her wrists close together in front of her with leather cuffs. He used a short chain to connect her collar to the bed frame. Now she could stretch out and change positions, but would not be able to get out of bed.

The third morning he came in to get her up and realized how bad she smelled. He fed her breakfast and said, "You need a bath."