Intro to Film Appreciation

She knew from the minute he walked in that it was going to be one of those days. All the signs were there: the stern, determined gait; the tense, steel-like jaw. He was not going to be easy on her today. And she hadn't helped matters by defying him. His instructions were clear but it wasn't as if she'd had much of a choice. She squirmed in her seat, felt the blush cut across her cheek and lowered her gaze. Best not to make things worse.

It was all there the first time she met him. She was in the second semester of her junior year and had elected to take a film appreciation class instead of the usual women's studies bullshit. All the feminist crap was wearing thin on her. She'd reluctantly agreed to take on the women's studies minor to appease her advisor. You know the kind - failed hippie who now published overly dramatic poetry in local literary magazines and felt the need to "nurture" raw talent. She really needed to re-think her choice.

So when she walked into his class, she was prepared to zone out and spend 90 minutes outlining the premise of her next erotic short story. This time she was thinking of pairing an older woman with a former student who attended the class reunion to finally fuck his Physics teacher. And in the middle of a scene where Dean was bending Mrs. Farber over a chair in the faculty lounge, she felt a strange sense of foreboding. The air was almost still and it seemed like the entire class had gone silent because of it. She didn't think to look up from her notebook because had she done that she'd notice that he was standing right in front of her.

"Ms. McKinney? Is there something so much more interesting than my lecture?"

Her mouth went dry. "Uh, no Mr. Finn. I'm here."

"You may be here but are you paying attention, Ms. McKinney?

She could feel the wetness begin to saturate the middle panel of her panties. Two months ago, she had no idea that she'd become his pet. That's what she imagined he called her anyway. She felt like a puppet with strings attached to her nipples and clit instead of her arms and legs. But they never actually spoke or saw each other outside of the classroom. He just ruled her with his intense black eyes, the click of his shoes on the floor and the instructions he emailed her nightly. Instructions that'd made her come more times than she could count.

The first of what he called "requests" came the day after she wore that tight black skirt that rode up when she slid into her chair.

"Ms. McKinney. For tomorrow's class I'd like for you to participate more in the discussion. Your perspective on the last reading was enlightening and I think that your insight would contribute greatly to your fellow students' understanding of the text. I also request that you slump a little further down in your chair and spread your legs wider so that I can see your cunt. And don't wear panties."

She rubbed herself raw that night, coming in wave upon wave of vivid imagery. She imagined him between her thighs, dragging his tongue through her slit slowly and meticulously. He'd stop at her clit and circle the hard bud with such force that she'd flood his mouth with her come. She was so embarrassed by how breathless and turned on she was fantasizing about him this way. Then she'd stick her fingers in her pussy and come three more times.

The next day she sat in the front row directly in front of his desk, just as he'd instructed. She slid into her chair and relaxed her legs so that they fell open slightly. Enough so that he could stare at her bare pussy (per his instructions) while they watched Goodfellas and marveled at the genius of Martin Scorsese's play on light and dark in the film. The light of the film projector reflected perfectly off of her slick pussy lips.

And so it began. Every Thursday from 6-9 pm she'd sit in class and explore the way his khakis hugged his ass and the curve of his cock underneath the stiff fabric. She'd press her thighs together when he turned his back to her, stretching his long, muscle-roped arms to write something on the board. Then she'd run home and check her email to prepare for his next request and come hard while her fingers were buried deep inside and her right nipple was painfully pinched between her teeth.

He showed absolutely no mercy. And the day that he walked into class and she wasn't sitting in the seat that he'd requested she sit in the night before, he brought 'no mercy' to a whole new level.

She was running late for class and when she walked into the room, she noticed that someone was sitting in her seat. Her heart stopped for a second and she nervously glanced at his desk to make sure he wasn't watching. To her relief, he hadn't yet arrived, which gave her some time to remedy the situation.

"Uh, excuse me? Hi. I think you're sitting in my seat."

"There aren't any more seats and I can't sit in the back again," said the skinny blond. 'I have a hard time hearing."

She looked in the direction that blondie was pointing and saw a seat in the back left corner of the room. Her heart raced. She didn't have much of a choice and when she heard him enter the room behind her, she quickly slipped to the back and slid into the seat.

The good professor moved to his desk without making eye contact with anyone. He dropped his briefcase and the loud thump made her clit throb. He immediately turned toward the front of the room, grabbed the chalk and wrote the following words on the board: "Desire followed the glance, pleasure followed desire."

She actually thought her heart might stop beating right then and there.

"How far is one willing to go for the person they desire?" he asked. He turned and let his gaze travel slowly across the room, as if he was trying to capture everyone's attention. When he finally reached her, there was a flicker of something in his eyes that she couldn't place.

"In 1870, Leopold von Sacher Masoch introduced Venus in Furs to the world," he said. "This was the first time that Masochism would be openly explored. In fact, the word Masochism is derived from the author's name. But as you know, the release of this classic work was not without its consequences."

She felt her skin grow hot, like a fever slowly building. She licked her parched lips and begged him with her eyes to stop staring at her. If she could've yelled out and rushed to kneel before him, she would have.

"Though nothing could ever capture the essence of Masoch's groundbreaking novel, there was an attempt made in 1969 by director Jesus Franco. Let's take a look at a cinematic interpretation of the book and discuss, shall we?

It was as if he was taunting her and as he turned on the projector and dimmed the lights, she swore she'd heard the word 'submit' whispered. To her dismay, he decided to sit facing the class. It was dark so while everyone was engaged in the images that danced across the screen, she could feel his eyes on her. She'd disobeyed and he was punishing her without even touching her. How was that possible? Each second felt unbearable upon her skin and she finally decided that she could take no more.

She grabbed her belongings and quickly made her way to the door, acutely aware of the fact that he was following close behind her. As she made her way into the hallway, she felt his hand close around her neck and she gasped in surprise. His actions forced her to stop and turn just as he pushed her against the wall.

"Now Ms. McKinney. What's the hurry? Did I upset you or did you finally realize that you disobeyed a direct order?"

His features were harsh and she couldn't help but notice that his hand grew tighter around her neck as she stared into his dark eyes.

"Sir, I am so sorry. I did not mean to disobey your orders. Someone was in my seat when I got here and I had no choice but to choose another one."

She felt her eyes bulge as he squeezed tighter and a little trickle of spit leaked from the corner of her mouth. His eyes immediately darted to that spot and almost instinctively, he licked at the droplet. And then he let go.

"Well Ms McKinney. I guess we'll have to figure out a way for you not to make the same mistake again, hmm? What do you think should be done?'

"I think he who lets itself whip, earned to be whipped," she whispered.

"Very good, pet," he whispered back. She could see his eyes light up and his pupils dilate into thick circles.

The air around them grew still and she noticed that he'd tensed his jaw again so that she could see the muscle and bone flexing beneath the skin. His eyes bore through her and for a second, she thought she'd seen a darkness that frightened her just enough to excite her.

Without a word, he moved in close and she thought he would kiss her but he didn't. And as he walked back into the classroom, she was left standing in the hallway, confused, scared and intensely turned on. What just happened? Should she return to the classroom or walk away and risk the consequences? With a smile, she turned away from the door, deciding that this would be a good time to check her email to find out what those consequence might bring. She was sure she'd made things worse. But somehow, she thought Masoch would be proud.