Sabrina Barnes woke up Monday morning with a smile on her face. The weekend had been both pleasant and productive, for her and Pamela Evans. Hopefully the girl would follow her instructions, and take her threat seriously.
Although Sabrina had a pretty good feeling young Pamela would do just that.
She had barely started eating her breakfast when her cell phone rang. Wondering who this was to be calling so early, she picked it up. "Hello?"
"Sabrina, it's Rebecca."
"Rebecca. Hello," Sabrina said. "Is there something wrong?"
"No, there's nothing wrong. I just wanted to let you know that I was going through a pile of internship applications and just happened to come across an app with Pam's name on it. Apparently it was submitted well before she took your class."
"Okay," Sabrina said.
"You're sure this girl is the one you want?"
"Yes. You can play with her, too, you know."
"I know," Rebecca said evenly. "I just wanted to make sure the new pet smell hasn't washed off and you're having second thoughts."
"Nope," Sabrina replied confidently. "I want Pamela Evans."
"All right," Rebecca replied, stretching the words out.
"What's wrong with her?"
"Well," Rebecca said, still speaking slowly, as if choosing her words carefully, "I wasn't expecting you to choose a girl so young. Or black, for that matter."
"You weren't expressing any reservations at the party when you were fucking her, or eating her pussy."
"I just wanted to make sure you weren't having any doubts."
"No doubts," Sabrina said. "So would you stop asking? And if you want to play with her, just ask me, instead of this passive-aggressive bullshit that's so unlike you."
Sabrina heard a sigh, loud and clear. "Okay. I admit it. I want her. She's just the kind of pet I'd want for myself."
"Well then, hire her on permanently once she's graduated from school and she would come with me when I go to stay the night at your house next time."
"I suppose that's fair. I'll forward her application to our internship director."
"That latina you hired?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Well, have her come to the party this weekend and she'll get to meet Pam. Surely you pay Ana enough money?"
"More than enough. I'll give her my invite. Her and the lady who's going to be Pam's supervisor."
"Let her know she needs to behave. Both of them."
"I will," Rebecca promised. "Now, I have to go. I'm still getting ready for work."
"Me, too. Talk later."
"Bye."
"Bye."
Sabrina hung up with Rebecca, shaking her head. Men could be so much easier to deal with. They at least said what was on their mind, instead of making her guess. Even as a woman, Sabrina was sometimes not exactly right. Pretty close, but not on the bullseye.
As she continued to eat her breakfast, a thought crossed her mind. How was she going to communicate with Pam, once school was over with for the year, and especially when the girl was no longer her student? Calling the girl at home was sure to cause her parents to take notice. Next year, when Pam was no longer taking any classes from her, it would surely attract attention if Pam were to keep coming by her office -- official attention.
That was something Sabrina did not want. Therefore, discretion was in order.
A few bites later, Sabrina had the answer to her problem. It was both simple and elegant.
* * * *
Pamela Evans was just on her way down the hall towards her creative writing class, when she spotted Jimmy Waters, by himself, for once. It had taken her the whole week, patiently biding her time, but she finally managed to catch him without any of his friends.
A funny feeling sparked way down deep inside her at the very sight of him, dressed in the school's uniform, but no tie, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal his broad chest. Perhaps it had to do with seeing him fucking their professor. Or perhaps it had been the sight of his hard muscles, his chiseled pecs and abs, as well as the stubble on his jaw and chin.
But she shook off the memory and called out, "Jimmy. Hey, Jimmy."
He turned around. "Yeah, Evans?"
"Hey, uhm...I wanted to, uhm...apologize. To you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. For, uhm, you know. Using your stories. I'm sorry. That was wrong. It won't happen again."
Jimmy looked surprised. Pleased, but also surprised. But he only said, "Okay. Cool. I'm glad to hear that. I had to speak to Professor Barnes about that."
"I know. I'm sorry." Pamela swallowed.
"Don't sweat it," Jimmy told her. "Apology accepted. Class is about to start. See you there, Evans."
And he walked off, turning the corner into their classroom. Pam found she could breathe again.
"Pam," she muttered, sounding frustrated. "My name is Pam."
Then she realized what time it was. Jimmy was right. She hurried the rest of the way down the hall to the classroom, sitting down just in time.
Her soft yet firm bubble butt barely touched the hard, wooden seat when Professor Barnes walked in, attired this time in a dark grey, sleeveless, ribbed-knit turtleneck dress and sky-high black patent leather peep-toe high heels.
Barnes also wore a very faint smile on her mouth as she looked at Pam.
Pam crossed her legs, scissor-tight. She could feel moisture in her panties. She squirmed in her seat. Now was not the time to get aroused.
Sabrina Barnes turned, put her attache case in the little cubbyhole in the lectern, and when she faced the assembled students, her face was all business.
"Good afternoon, class."
"Good afternoon, professor," the class replied back.
"I'm sure you're all well aware of what time of year it is. Yes, spring break is coming up very soon. Next week, I believe."
A ripple of laughter greeted these words.
"But I'm not referring to that. Specifically, for the second year students, it's time to select a major. A lot of you will have already begun taking prep courses for your major this year. But this will be the time to officially declare your major.
"The only reason I mention it is that I will not be seeing some of you in any of the more advanced classes that I teach. I have enjoyed getting to know all of you. And I wish you all well in whatever major you choose. Now, please get out your textbooks, and turn to page one oh five."
* * * *
Once class was done, Barnes said, "Please don't forget to turn in your homework before you leave, class. And on the Monday after spring break, we'll be discussing Chapter Ten of your textbook, so please come prepared for class."
There was a rustle of a groan as the class rose collectively from their seats, and approached Barnes at her lectern.
With a certain amount of quiet pride, Pamela Evans took the stack of printed sheets from her school bag and gave them to Barnes.