As {{user}} walks into the classroom, it catches {{char}}'s attention. They were on his transcript for the semester. They were an exceptional student with high grades, transferred to his class from another college between semesters. Suffice to say, it piqued his interest.

"New face. You must be {{user}}.” He murmurs softly, looking over the top of his glasses at them as they walk by to their table.

"I noticed," he murmurs with a faint smile before clearing his throat and turning to address the rest of the class. "Alright everyone, let's get started." His voice carries through the room, quiet yet commanding. "We're going to discuss symbolism in modern literature today. Anybody have any thoughts?"

"That's an... interesting comment," he says, narrowing his eyes slightly at you. "But I assure you, grades in this class are earned fairly." His tone is firm but not unkind; it's clear that he's aware of your attempt at flirtation and isn't entirely sure how to respond. He glances over to the clock and hesitates for a moment before speaking up again. "Alright everyone, see you next class. Don't forget to read up on the assigned material."

You pull at his jacket and attempt to flirt with him further. His expression remains neutral as he studies you for a moment, weighing the situation in his mind. "Listen," he says finally, keeping his voice low so as not to attract attention from other students, "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but this isn't the sort of environment where those kinds of arrangements are... encouraged." He pauses, considering how best to phrase things. "You're welcome to stay after class today if you like. We can discuss any questions you have about the material."

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, almost as though he's trying not to scold you too harshly for your suggestive comments.

Caldwell eyes you warily for a moment after the encounter, feeling slightly uneasy about your close proximity and threatening undertone. "Alright," he finally says, clearing his throat awkwardly as he straightens up. "Well then... we'll discuss this further tonight, if that's what you wish." He watches you until you leave the classroom, not entirely convinced that your intentions are entirely harmless. Once you're gone, he takes a deep breath and shakes his head slightly, trying to dismiss the strange encounter from his mind as he gathers his things and prepares for his next class.

He looks at you warily as he opens the door and motions for you to come inside. "Alright... Let's discuss," he says cautiously, leading you into his living room. Sitting down on a comfortable chair, he crosses one leg over the other and folds his hands in his lap. "What specifically do you need help with?"

"Well," he says with a small sigh, "it's important to remember that literature doesn't always have simple meanings. Sometimes it requires deep thought and understanding of context." He pauses for a moment before continuing, "But if there are specific parts you're struggling with, I can help explain them more clearly."

Caldwell glances over at you, trying to gauge your intentions behind the subtle advances.

Caught off guard by your advances, Stephen instinctively jerks back in his seat. His expression darkens as he glares at you in disapproval. "I thought we had an understanding," he says sharply. "You were here to learn, not... 'earn' good grades through other means."

He stands up abruptly, pacing around the room as he tries to compose himself. His anger is evident on his face, but beneath it there's a hint of sadness and disappointment. This wasn't at all what he expected from you or their relationship. "I thought we could help each other," he murmurs more to himself than to you.

Caldwell's face flushes crimson as he hears your crude suggestion. "You... You don't understand," he manages to stammer out before taking a deep breath and exhaling sharply. "I'm not some kind of pervert who takes advantage of his students." His voice cracks slightly on the last word, betraying the turmoil within him. "I just wanted to help you... guide you down the right path."

He turns away from you and sits down heavily in a chair, elbows propped on his knees. "You could have been so good at this," he whispers to himself. "Why did you have to choose... this?"

Caldwell's eyes widen in shock as you reveal your true motives. "You use people... You use me," he whispers hoarsely, disgust thickening his voice. "How could you even think that was an acceptable way to handle this?" He shakes his head slowly, unable to comprehend how someone so young could be so callous and self-serving.

Rage builds within him as your words sink in, burning away any lingering doubt or sympathy he may have had for you. "You are not welcome here," he snaps, pointing a trembling finger at the door. "Get out, and never darken my doorstep again." His voice cracks on the last word, barely audible above the thundering of his heart in his ears.

Caldwell's breath comes out in ragged gasps as you throw him onto the couch and pounce on top of him. His face flames with anger and humiliation; this is no longer an academic discussion, but a violation of trust and boundaries. He tries to push you off, struggling weakly beneath your weight, but it's clear that he's not fighting back nearly as hard as he could be.

"Get...off..." he manages to choke out between sobs of rage. "You have no idea what you're doing." His voice cracks on the last word, and tears streak down his cheeks. He feels sickened by your actions, but also helpless to stop them; it's as if some part of him has given up already.

The weight of what he's realized about you presses down upon him like a boulder, crushing any remaining hope he may have had for this relationship. He closes his eyes tightly and tries to block out the sight of your smirking face, but it only seems to grow larger in his mind's eye, taunting him with every passing moment.

Caldwell gasps as you touch him intimately, forcing his eyes open again. His expression is one of shock and disgust, his hands moving weakly against your chest in a futile attempt to push you away. "Please," he whispers hoarsely, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Just leave me alone."

He feels sickened by the situation; not just because of what you're doing to him physically, but also because of how easily it seems to come to you. You seem so cold and detached from the whole thing, as if this were nothing more than a game or a challenge for your amusement. It fills Caldwell with revulsion and despair, further eroding any shreds of hope he had left for connecting with you on any deeper level.

Your words cut deep, like knives carving through his last reserves of strength and self-worth. They sting with the venomous truth that you are in control here, manipulating him effortlessly for your own amusement. The realization brings forth a wellspring of rage within him, making it impossible to suppress the violent shove he delivers against your chest.

"Get off me!" he roars, eyes blazing with fury and betrayal. "I'm not some toy for you to play with! You can't just use people like this!" Tears streaming down his face, he scrambles to get free from your grasp; any semblance of the composed, gentle academic is gone, replaced by a furious and terrified fighter desperate to break free.

Caldwell's face contorts in anger and despair as he realizes the depth of your callousness. "I can't believe you would even say that!" he snarls, tears streaming down his cheeks. "You don't understand anything! I cared about you, idiot! I wanted to help you be something more than this pathetic excuse for a human being!" His grip on your wrists tightens painfully as he struggles against your hold.

"I just want us to stop," he whispers hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the sound of their harsh breathing and the thumping of their hearts. "I don't want to do this anymore." The words are like a dagger piercing through his own chest; admitting defeat feels like surrendering every shred of dignity he has left. But at this point, he can no longer bring himself to care.

Your words cut deep, like a knife slicing through the last remnants of his hope and illusions about you. For a moment, he wonders how things could have ever gone so wrong between them. He looks down at his lap, hands clenched into fists as tears well up in his eyes once more. Finally, he lifts his head to meet your gaze again, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. "I trusted you," he whispers hoarsely through gritted teeth. "I thought... I thought we had something special."

His hands tremble as he reaches out, barely touching your cheek before pulling away again. The contact feels too intimate now; it only serves to reinforce the power imbalance between you. "You're a monster," he spits through clenched teeth, turning his head aside so that he doesn't have to see the satisfaction in your eyes any longer.

Caldwell's face twists into an expression somewhere between disgust and pity as you confess your motives. He takes a step back, shaking his head slowly. "You don't understand," he whispers hoarsely, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I could never... I couldn't do that." His voice trails off, and for a moment, he wavers; the thought of giving in to your desires is almost more than he can bear. But he steels himself against the temptation, even as your words echo through his mind like a haunting refrain.

"You don't know what you're asking," he manages to choke out. "Just... just leave." His gaze darts around the room, searching for an escape from this nightmare. And as he turns and heads toward the door, the weight of betrayal settles heavily upon his shoulders; a burden he knows he'll carry with him long after you've gone.

Caldwell stares at you, horror and pity warring for dominance in his expression. "I can't..." he whispers hoarsely, shaking his head slowly as if to clear it of the impossible thoughts racing through his mind. "It's wrong. So very, very wrong." He takes a step back, eyes darting around the room once more before fixing on your face again.

"Please," he whispers, voice trembling with emotion. "Don't ask me to do that. You know it isn't right." He tries to summon some of his former authority and command in this moment, but it feels hollow and forced; the truth is too stark, too raw for him to ignore any longer.

"You should... you should see someone else," he manages to choke out. "A doctor or a therapist, someone who can help you." The words taste bitter on his tongue, but it's all he has left to offer.

The pain in your voice cuts through him like a knife; the anguish and desperation are impossible to ignore. He feels tears welling up in his eyes once more as he looks at you, trying to see past the callous manipulator and self-serving sociopath you've revealed yourself to be. But it only serves to make your pleas that much more heartbreaking.

"I... I don't know," he whispers, voice trembling as he struggles with his own conflicting emotions. "You have to understand how wrong this is." He gently pushes back against your grip, trying to create some space between you; but the words ring hollow even to his own ears. There's a finality in them that neither of you can ignore.

Caldwell gasps as you press your body against his, the pain in your voice making it difficult to focus on anything else. Tears stream down his cheeks, and he shakes his head weakly, trying to deny what's happening even as your words pierce through his defenses. He knows there is no winning this game; all he can do is endure the agony until you grow tired of playing with him like some cruel doll.

"I... I don't understand why," he whispers hoarsely, gazing up at you in confusion and pain. "Why would you want to hurt me like this?" His hands tremble as they try to push against your chest, but it's no use; his strength is nothing compared to yours.

Caldwell takes a shaky breath and slowly moves closer to you, his expression filled with infinite sadness and pity. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, hands trembling as they reach out to touch your shoulder. "I wish there was something I could do... some way to make this better for you." He pauses, searching for the right words before continuing, his voice barely above a whisper. "Perhaps we should see someone together? Maybe a therapist who specializes in... in situations like this?"

There's hope etched into every line of his face as he gazes up at you; desperate for anything to make this pain stop, both yours and his own.

Caldwell's heart breaks as he feels your body trembling against his own, the desperation and hopelessness in your words piercing through his defenses like a knife. "I understand," he whispers softly, kissing the top of your head. "But there has to be another way. Surely there's some professional help we could seek? Someone who might know how to make this better for you without... this?"

He hesitates, unsure if he should even broach the subject. But the thought of losing you forever - to yourself, to this twisted existence you've created - is too much to bear.

Caldwell bites his lip, fighting back tears as he watches you. He knows there's no right answer here; whatever choice he makes, someone will get hurt. But the thought of walking away and abandoning you to this endless cycle of self-destruction... it haunts him like a ghost, taunting him with the weight of his own guilt.

With trembling fingers, he cups your cheek, brow furrowed in deep concentration. "All right," he whispers, eyes flickering briefly closed. "I'll help you. But only because I don't know what else to do." He pauses, then adds softly: "And if we ever get through this... if things are better someday... maybe... maybe we could try being something more than just... this." His lips twitch into a sad smile as he meets your gaze once more.

Caldwell leans into the embrace, taking strength from your words and the comfort you offer. Though his heart is still heavy with doubt and regret, he allows himself a brief moment of hope; perhaps there's a chance for both of them to find some semblance of peace in all this chaos.

He closes his eyes, savoring the feeling of your warm body pressed against his own. For now, they are all they have left: each other, and the tenuous promise of something more.

Caldwell swallows hard as he watches you collapse on the bed, your exhaustion plain to see. His own weariness weighs heavily upon him; but he can't deny the desperate craving in your voice, or the way it resonates within his own body. He takes a shaky breath and slowly removes his clothes, climbing into bed beside you.

As he lies there, gazing up at the ceiling, he wonders if this is truly what you want; or if it's just another twisted game meant to manipulate him further. But as your hand finds its way to his groin and begins to stroke him gently, he knows he has no choice but to trust in your words... for now.

Caldwell takes a shaky breath as he watches you undress, your body gently sinking deeper into the bed with every movement. He knows what he's getting himself into, but the loneliness and desperation in your voice make it impossible for him to resist. Slowly, carefully, he presses against you; his member sliding easily inside of you as you welcome him with a sigh of relief.

With shaking hands, he reaches out to turn off the lamp on the nightstand, plunging the room into darkness save for the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the window. As your warmth envelops him, he begins to move in time with your breath; lost in the rhythm and the touch, his own weariness forgotten in this brief moment of shared pleasure.

Caldwell moans softly as you tense up beneath him, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. He increases the pace slightly, eager to help you fall asleep with this brief reprieve from the darkness that haunts both of your minds. His fingers dig into your hips, urging you deeper onto his cock as he loses himself in the feeling of being wanted and needed; even if only for this night.

With a sharp breath, you tense again, the muscles in your lower abdomen clenching tightly around him. He glances down to see tears trickling down your cheek, and he curses himself silently for not being able to provide more comfort. But for now, this is all he can offer: a brief escape from the pain that binds you both.

Caldwell pauses for a moment, taking in your tear-stained face and the desperation in your voice. He nods once, understanding instinctively what you mean. With a sudden surge of need and desire, he begins to move harder and faster within you; his hips slapping against yours as he takes possession of your body.

His fingers dig deep into your shoulders, holding you down while his other hand fists in the sheets, trembling with effort. He presses his lips together, trying to muffle the sounds that threaten to escape as he loses himself to the pleasure and the pain of being so thoroughly connected to another person.

His name on your lips sends shivers down his spine as you pull him closer; the feel of your skin against his is almost too much to bear. His eyes slide closed as he kisses you back, tongue tangling with yours in a desperate dance of need and desire. It's like he can taste your pain, your suffering, mingled with the sweetness of your mouth; and it drives him wild.

His hips buck against yours, deeper now, harder still as he tries to forget everything but the sensation of being wanted, desired, needed by you. His hands clench into fists at his sides, nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms as he struggles not to lose control; not yet, not until you're ready for him to take it all.

He slows down, his movements growing gentler as he senses the approach of your sleep. His hands slide down your body, coming to rest on your hips as he watches you in a mixture of awe and despair. Even unconscious, you're still so responsive; it breaks something inside him to think that this is what keeps you going.

As you drift further from wakefulness, he pulls out of you, reluctantly abandoning the heat and wetness of your body. His erection throbs painfully as he lies beside you, staring up at the ceiling, his heart racing and mind reeling with all that's happened tonight.

He takes a shaky breath, trying to steady himself before reaching out to gently stroke your hair. "I'm here," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the sound of his own laboured breathing. "Whenever you need me." But even as the words leave his lips, he knows they're meaningless; there will come a time when it won't be enough anymore, and all he can do is watch helplessly as you slip further away from him... and from yourself.

Caldwell's heart skips a beat as he sees you stirring awake, your body still warm from the night before. He hesitates, unsure of how to broach the subject. "Y-you were sleeping so peacefully... I didn't want to disturb you," he finally manages to say, voice cracking slightly.

He wonders if you remember what happened last night; if it meant as much to you as it did to him. The guilt weighs heavily upon him, making it difficult for him to breathe.

Caldwell's heart twists painfully in his chest as you speak. He knows it was selfish of him to retreat when he did; to leave you vulnerable and alone. But he also knows that there is no easy solution here, no quick fix for the problems between them. All he can do is keep trying, keep hoping that somehow things will get better for both of them... even if it means bearing the weight of your suffering along with his own.

With a heavy sigh, he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "I'm sorry," he whispers, eyes searching yours for any sign that perhaps last night wasn't all in vain. "I don't know what else to say... or do."

Caldwell's heart twists with conflicting emotions as he feels your arms around him, the weight of your words and laughter pressing down upon him like a leaden cloak. A part of him wants to close his eyes and sink deeper into this brief moment of peace, enjoying the feel of being wanted and needed by you.

But another part knows that soon enough, reality will rear its ugly head again, and they'll be faced with all the problems that have plagued them thus far. He takes a shaky breath, summoning up what little strength he has left to offer you a half-smile in return. "I'm glad I could help." His voice trembles slightly as he speaks; every word another knife twisting deeper into his already battered heart.

But for now, at least for this moment, he can pretend that everything is going to be all right; that maybe they'll find a way through the darkness together. And perhaps, in time, that dream might even become reality... if they're both brave enough to face whatever comes next.

Caldwell frowns slightly as you speak; he's unsure if you're suggesting that he take control more often, or if it's merely a request to explore dominance play further. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts before responding carefully. "I could do that," he says slowly, not meeting your eyes but studying your face instead. "But I don't want you to feel like you're being forced into anything. If that's what you truly desire... if it would help..." He trails off, searching for the words to express his deepest feelings on the matter.

Caldwell nods slowly, his heart racing as he takes in your words and the intense longing in your eyes. "All right," he whispers, reaching out to gently cup your cheek with one hand. "Then I'll do my best to be what you need me to be... whenever you need it." As he speaks, a shiver runs down his spine at the thought of giving yourself so completely over to someone else; but despite the fear and trepidation, there is also an undeniable thrill that courses through him at the prospect of exploring this new side of your relationship.

He leans forward, pressing his lips against yours in a slow, tender kiss; hoping that somehow, some way, he can use this connection to bridge the distance between them and help you find solace in their shared passion.

Caldwell sighs into your kiss, his lips parting slightly as he allows himself to become lost in the sweetness of your mouth. His tongue dances with yours, their movements growing more confident and bold as the tension between them begins to dissipate. His other hand moves to gently stroke your back, soothing circles that gradually grow stronger and more insistent.

His heart beats wildly against his ribs, but it feels less like panic now, more like an excitement he hasn't known in years; a desire to explore this newfound dominance and see where it leads them both. As you kiss him deeper, pressing your body harder against his, he gives himself over to the sensation, allowing his own need and lust to guide him deeper into this passionate embrace.

Caldwell groans low in his throat as he feels your heat against him, the thickness of your arousal pressing between your legs. He's helpless to resist this silent demand, and with a growl of need, he grinds against you, his hips moving roughly as he struggles to find purchase on your leg.

His free hand comes up to cup your breast, pinching and rolling the sensitive nipple between his fingers as he watches your face in the dim light. The need for release burning brightly within him, but he savors the taste of control, relishes the power that comes with being the one who decides when you'll be brought to climax.

Caldwell's breath catches in his throat as you reveal yourself to him, your voice trembling with need and desire. His hands grasp at your hips, steadying himself as he leans forward, lips parted and eyes locked on yours. He watches as you beg him, and the feeling of being so desired overwhelms him; makes him ache with want for you in a way that goes beyond anything he's ever felt before.

With a low growl, he thrusts his hips forward, pushing himself into your waiting body. The feel of you stretching tight around him is exquisite torture, driving him wild as he pistons deeper and faster. His free hand comes up to cup your face, holding your head still as he claims your mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss that leaves no doubt about his dominance or intentions.

Caldwell's face twists in anger as you pass him your phone, glancing down at it with disgust before returning his glare to you. "Don't worry," he snaps through clenched teeth. "I won't let her think I've been unfaithful." He answers the call, voice cool and professional despite the raging emotions within him. "Hello?"

With a shake of his head, he forces himself to focus on the conversation, ignoring your continued movements beneath him as you writhe and moan with need. His heart races, anger mixing with desire in an unholy cocktail that threatens to consume him whole.

As the phone call continues, he watches you silently, struggling against the urge to cut it short and return to what they were doing before... but knowing deep down that such a course of action would only be delaying the inevitable.