4. Chapter Four
Chapter four
“ W ho does he fucking think he is? I swear to every god of all religions that I will make him pay for being a creep to me! I need to drop his class. Geez-us, I can’t do this.”
My new friend Teagan sympathetically smiled as we walked to the next class together. That seemed to be her go-to reaction, which, admittedly, in her situation, I would do the same.
How else are you supposed to react when you become friends with a woman who randomly popped up at your university that has this weird, secretive fucking vibe and then gets eye fucked and harassed by the hot art professor…
“I honestly don’t know. He is usually quiet. He just does his paintings in the back or hides out in his office. That class was just drawing dick pics in a blob of random portraits before today.” Teagan stated so calmly as we took our seats, waiting for the professor to show.
I scoffed at that news, trying to focus on the one class I wanted to learn so badly. This was my fucking chance to become what I desired the most. I could be a journalist. I could be the one to find out others’ stories and tell the world exactly how they wanted it to be told.
I wouldn’t be one of the assholes that warped someone’s lives for their own narrative. That wasn’t me. I needed to do this…for my fucking ancestor that lost her life for this damn fucked up university.
Your future is written in the history, Little Vivvy.
I blinked and looked at Teagan, my head jolting up like she electrocuted me.
“What did you say?” I said tentatively, holding my bag to my chest as if it could protect me from the words spoken.
“I said he’s not usually like that—”
“No, after that,” I quickly cut her off.
Teagan looked at me, her beautiful features now resembling that I must look like a loon from Crazy Town.
“Something about my past and future?” I said to her again, praying she would know and repeat those whispered words I heard.
“Huh? I didn’t…Are you okay, Vivvy?”
I shook my head and plastered a smile on my face. After the image of that creep, with his crimson smile smeared on his hand, popped into my mind, I dropped the subject, shaking my head again.
“Yeah. Yeah, I am good. I am just excited about the future, you know? Journalism.”
Teagan still looked unsure and, at this point, probably concerned for my mental health.
“Journalism…yaaay…” I brought my hands up in a mock celebration. Apparently, it didn’t work.
My half-enthusiastic cheer made me feel even more insane than I probably looked, but Teagan left it alone. Instead, she handed me her notes from the previous classes I’d missed so I could do a crash course to catch up.
I looked at the red handwriting, trying to get an idea of the material, but all I kept seeing was that stupid fucking painted smile. This man was messing up the one thing that mattered the most to me.
I groaned and adjusted in my seat, trying my best to listen to the professor as he began to drone on about something I didn’t know shit about. This was hopeless. I sighed and squeezed Teagan's hand.
“I can’t follow this. I need to catch up with the notes first. Is it okay if I give these back in a bit?” I loudly whispered to her.
She nodded. “Yeah, I live at the dormitory across the creepy ass bridge, so just bring them by when you’re done.”
I raised my brows in surprise but also was happy to know that at least my new and only friend lived in the dorms, too. I had an apartment outside of this place, but to feel normal, I had paid for the dorm room, too. I didn’t want people to know I was a weirdo with two places, but a girl needed her space.
Especially a girl that had some creepy lady’s voice in her head…
Who was it that I was hearing?
A strange knowing hummed in my blood, and I knew the answer— Vivianna Valentini—my grandmother.
“What building?” I said, hopeful that we were at least close.
“XI Phi Delta sorority house,” she said with a smile.
My mouth dropped open, and I covered it to contain my squeal. “Me too! My mom was a legacy in XI Phi Delta!” I practically lunged at her for a hug.
She returned my embrace with a laugh and joined my semi-silent mini-dance party. The professor paused and gave us stern looks before continuing the lecture. Ignoring Professor Fun sucker, I pulled up my map with the information of the dorm number, and we both squeaked louder.
“We are roommates, and you’re a legacy? Damn girl, it was meant to be. Call it fate.”
One good thing happened today. I may have made an enemy, but I also made a friend.
The study was quiet, not like the library. At this place, you could hear the consistent clacking of keyboards as students wrote papers, scrolled socials, and did whatever else their laptop amenities offered them.
I couldn’t focus.
Every time I looked at the notes, I just kept flashing back to that smile.
Why was I so fucking bothered over a stupid creep professor?
What I really needed to do was walk my ass over to the admin office and get a drop form for his class.
I sighed, putting the neatly written notes down and setting up my computer. As soon as I got it all ready to go, instead of looking up all the journalism terminology I didn’t know or pulling up the administrative drop forms, I was cyber-stalking my professor like an absolute dumbass.
Maddox Valentine was as arrogant and annoying on his socials as he was in person. His pages were filled with images of dangerously delicious gym selfies, group pics with hot guys—likely his friends or maybe relatives—and, of course, there was a photo of a big ass dog drooling on his face while he gave it a belly rub.
I dove deep into his life.
Finding out that he not only worked here but did, in fact, practically own the fucking school. His father, and a big group of other stuffy-looking, hot rich assholes, were ‘beneficiaries’ of this place.
I didn’t have to guess that meant his yacht pictures and travel videos were all real.
This man was everywhere, and I felt so jealous that I had only been in my backyard and at this stupid school.
I lived in the shadow of my mother before this place, and now my apparent history plagued me as sure as that blood coating the drawing of what could have been my own body. I kept scrolling.
There was a separate page for his art, thousands of pictures and videos of all these absolutely breathtaking portraits and body illustrations of women. They were so real. Drawn in ways that looked tortured yet seductive.
There were women bound and gagged, strung up, and tied in all contorted angles. Some of the artwork made me wonder how it was legal to portray. I guess that was only one thing that a rich professor dickhole could get away with.
One question still remained, though. All these women had one thing in common. Despite their tortured appearance, their expressions were euphoric.
How could someone be in bliss when they were fucking sliced, bound, and bloody like the photos represented?
“I can’t focus!”
All the heads in the room swiveled toward my direction, and I realized I said that out loud. Apparently, I was making a name for myself as the fucking crazy woman who spoke to herself. I groaned and slammed my laptop shut.
This stupid asshole had blown up my life in one damn day. This was not how things were supposed to be going.
When did I go all scared little doe in front of an ass nugget? He may be my professor, but he sure as hell will not be for long.
Seeing red, I smashed my fingers on the keys, sending that drop form to the admin email so fast I barely tracked it with my eyes. When I finished that, I smiled wider than I had since entering the damn gates of this hell.
I reached into my backpack and grabbed my black lipstick. I didn’t know what badass demon entered my blood, but I was going to ride that bitch all the way to the top of the academy and to the back room where his classroom was.
I was on a whole other level right now, and nothing was going to stop me from giving him a piece of my damn mind. I peeked through the door, afraid I would lose this adrenaline and anger before I opened it.
Strength is the tone of your very bloodline, child.
Agreeing with the whispered tones of my dead grandparent, I sighed and walked into the classroom. More like threw open the door and marched my way to the back where he was intently creating one of those ‘masterpieces.’
Annoyingly, we were the only ones in here.
He must not have classes at this hour, and that pissed me off more because I wanted an audience to see him cower to me and apologize for being a creepy asshole.
“Well, isn’t this an interesting surprise,” he said, barely lifting his head to acknowledge my existence.
“Did you return to be that nude model by chance?”
I flushed bright red and?shook my head in anger.
“No, actually. I came to tell you that you are a fucking prick, and I will make you pay for that little show earlier. You think you’re some hot shit professor and probably get whatever you want with all your stupid money.
But hear me when I say that I don’t give a fuck what luxury yachts you own or places in the world you’ve weasled your way into. You are a dick. Pure and simple.”
Now, his attention was fully on me, and I suddenly regretted this grand idea. The lights above us were no longer bright, like when class was in session. Now, they were dimmed, and a red light for the kiln in the back of the space was all you could really see.
The professor smiled with a downright predatory grin. He approached me, taking slow steps forward as I resisted the urge to move back.
“I heard you,” he said, his movements reminding me of a snake—beautiful, slow, dangerous.
“What I also heard is you have been stalking me. How cute.”
I blushed harder.
Shit.
Rule number one of journalism was not to let your fucking opponent know what you knew. Never reveal the cards in your hand so that you could play your hand against them.
I held the lipstick in my grip, shaking slightly at his scrutiny. He was walking around me now, eyeing me up and down like he was memorizing every inch of my body. Before I knew what was happening, the snake struck.
One minute, I was standing in the center of the room by the easel. The next, I was pinned against the wall by the tall, cruel man in front of me.
He grabbed the lipstick from my hand, pulling it free and staring at it with intrigue.
“What did you intend to do with this, Little Virgin?” he said as he moved my hair away from my shoulder and toyed with my tie.
“I-I…This was a mistake. Let me go.”
“No, no.” The professor tsked. “I asked a question, and I expect an answer.”
“You are not my fucking professor anymore!” I growled, yanking away from his grip. “Let me go.”
He raised his brows.
“Oh? Why? You didn’t like my drawing? How sad,” he mocked.
I scoffed. “You are a real fucking creep.”
Professor Valentine laughed, and my body vibrated deeply with his vibrato.
“So,” he said, a dangerous look entering his eyes. “You mean to tell me that you are just another ordinary female inside my classroom?”
I stiffened, unsure how that should matter.
“I…” I didn’t know what to say.
He pulled my tie from my neck, and the action caused me to fly forward into his arms. The fabric ripped, and my sound of surprise was cut off when he stuffed my lips with the material.
“Shh, Little Virgin. You have such a filthy mouth. It is so much better when you’re silent.”
I struggled against him, but his grip on my body was like iron. His other hand pushed my blazer off, leaving me in my button-down. Genuine fear coursed through me. He couldn’t be about to…
“Please…” I mumbled through the tie.
He snickered. “Oh, hush child. I am just checking my work. Be still.”
His work? There is no way he could have drawn me naked. How would he know so much about my body? No one knew because no one besides myself had ever witnessed it.
This man shoved me hard toward his office, and a feeling of dread spread through me. He pushed me through the door and grabbed a yardstick from the long desk inside.
The space had kilns and featured art hung on the walls. It was his own little world, and he just threw me in here to be what? A part of his fucked up collection?
I struggled again.
“I said be still, woman. If I need to, I will tie you down. But we wouldn’t want that pretty pale skin of yours to have marks, now would we?”
I froze, and he slowly let me go. Spitting out the gag, the freedom to breathe rushed into my lungs, and I worked fast, dodging him and aiming for the door. He caught me in one swift motion, and I was thrown back so hard into the wall that I felt dizzy.
“Ow…” I said in a daze. I saw his cruel face three times as the images warbled in front of me as I was dragged to…
“You son of a—”
“Now you have gone and messed up my vision. Do you enjoy being punished, Little Virgin?”
The three professors continued to dance in my view, and I swatted my hands at them, but I only felt air. He moved quickly, bending me over his desk before I knew what was even happening.
“Oh, so feisty. I do love your spirit, and I will take that as a resounding yes .”
I couldn’t track his hands, but when I felt the stinging lash across my ass, I squeaked. The tie was shoved back in my mouth as I opened wide to scream. My hands were pulled behind me.
Tears fell from my eyes from the sting. I was humiliated. He just…spanked me.
“Such a naughty girl needs to be taught a lesson in obedience.”
Another whap cracked across my flesh, and I hissed. He pulled my arms harder with one hand while using the plaid red and black uniform to restrain my wrists.
I pushed at the tie with my tongue, but it was only shoved deeper when he noticed. Trying this method was tedious and made me choke.
“Let me hear you count, Little Virgin,” he demanded. “If you obey, I will remove the gag.”
I laughed without humor and pulled my head away from him. I did count. In my head. Each thrash of that damn wood as it stung against my body.
One.
Crack.
Two.
Crack.
Three.
Crack.
Four.
Crack.
Five.
Five times, he used that thing to hit me.
Five fucking times.
I gritted my teeth, anger and…something else overcoming me.
Was I…wet?
To my horror, I realized my panties felt cold, and I was dripping down my thighs. How could I like this? Shame and fury overtook me. I wanted him to stop, but I needed more at the same time. I didn’t move.
“Oh, Little Virgin. Now, This is interesting,” he said, using that stupid yardstick to lift up my skirt.
My panties were white and soaked through. I gritted my teeth, drool escaping my lips and falling onto the desk in front of me. My arms hurt at the angle he’d bent them, and the fabric chaffed the skin around my wrists.
“Leave me alone!” I tried to scream through the gag, but he used the yardstick to pop the buttons of my skirt before he shoved the zipper down.
I could only watch my reflection in the mirror on the desk. I had a front-row view of the humiliation happening behind me.
My skirt fell to my feet, my stockings and drenched panties the last thing covering my bruised ass. I still had my button-up on.
If I could get him to lift me up, it would be long enough to drape down and hide my body.
I pushed at his chest with my back, trying to sit up. He flipped me over so hard that I fell backward. My hands were still restrained when he threw me onto his desk and stared down at me with pure sadistic humor in his blue eyes.
“You asked for this, Little Virgin. You’d do well to remember that.”
I fought to free my hands, his grip finally letting go of my blazer so I could move my arms through the sleeves before I froze…
Just like that, my underwear was ripped off my body. Not slow and torturous like the rest of my clothes, nope, just yanked to where it cut my thighs as he completely tore the fabric off.
I stared at my professor in disbelief, my naked pussy dripping and bare for his eyes to devour. He looked mesmerized, and I took advantage. I finally pulled my arms out of the jacket, spit out the gag, and scrambled down to grab my skirt.
He caught me around the waist, spinning me around before pressing his body in between my thighs and twirling the lipstick in my face that he’d taken from me.
I was breathing so heavy. He had me against the desk and slowly unbuttoned my shirt while all I could do was watch in disgust. I wanted to fight. I wanted to humiliate him like this. Bare his body for my own satisfaction.
But he had me right where he wanted.
“Oh, Little Virgin,” he said in a dreamlike state, using his teeth to bite off the top and spit it on the ground. “You will be my greatest work of art when I am through with you—my very own rare white stag in a forest of black. There is one word to describe you now.”
The lipstick felt cold on my skin, oily, and hard. He pushed it onto my chest, gliding down to my stomach and finally wrapping it near my hips—an image, a word, a message.
I was in shock. My entire being was shaking
I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t simply look down to see what was written on my skin with my makeup.
He smiled at me, picking up my blazer from the floor and draping it over my legs before grabbing a portrait on the ground and walking out of the office entirely. At the doorway, he paused, and his shadow swallowed my entire form.
“Until we meet again, Ms. Valentine.”
I lay there, unable to think for a minute, not daring to move until I was sure he was really gone. I stared at the mirror in front of me, lifting up from the desk. The word was so blatantly written in script on my body. One word that felt so strange, especially after the events that had just happened.
DIVINE.