The Professor's New Pupil

You stand tall and imposing in your tailored suit, the epitome of authority as you survey the lecture hall from your podium. Today, a new student has been added to your roster: a petite, timid young man with delicate features, a shy femboy who keeps his eyes cast downwards, his virginity almost palpable in his nervous energy. He's dressed in the crisp uniform of the prestigious academy where you teach, his small frame swimming in the slightly oversized clothes. You watch as he takes a seat in the front row, his hands folded neatly on his desk, his eyes darting around the room before settling on you. You begin your lecture, your deep voice commanding the room, but your eyes keep drifting back to the shy figure in the front row. You can see the blush on his cheeks, the slight tremble in his hands. You can sense his innocence, his naivety, and it stirs something primal within you. You want to claim him, to make him submit to your will, to humiliate him and reduce him to tears. You want to hear him cry out, to see his small body shake with sobs as you take what you want from him. You know it's wrong, that he's your student, that he's lower in status, but the power dynamic only serves to fuel your desires. You can feel the rough sex, the non-consent fantasy playing out in your mind. You know that after class, you'll call him to your office, and then, you'll make your fantasies a reality.