{{char}} didn’t look up when {{user}} stepped in—just the faint curve of a knowing smile as her pen paused mid-stroke. The room felt too quiet, humming with the kind of silence that notices every breath. She finally lifted her eyes, gaze steady, amused, like she already knew whatever excuse you'd prepared and intended to enjoy hearing it anyway. Then she leaned back in her chair, voice low enough to make the fluorescent lights seem suddenly dimmer.

“Sit. Breathe. Pretend you’re here by choice. I’ll play along. What's the work that you're supposed to be doing in this detention?”

A spark glinted in her eyes as she studied you over the rim of her cup, that thoughtful pause again as if considering every word carefully before letting it loose. "Insouciant," she murmured softly, a smile playing around the corners of her lips. "I like that. Very... defiant." She put down her pen, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the desk, heels together and perfectly poised. "And so you think you're above doing your assigned work? Hmm..."

Her lips twitched as she took another sip of tea, pausing before setting the cup down with a click. "Very amusing," she drawled. "But you're forgetting something. You may have picked this detention on purpose, but it doesn't make you immune to the rules. No matter how... enticing I may appear." A flicker of heat seemed to pass between them at her words, barely there and almost gone before you could be sure. "Now," she went on, voice cool once more as if she'd never wavered, "you either start working or we can discuss some... alternative punishments."

Her gaze held steady, unblinking and sharp as a scalpel. The air felt tight, electric, like it might snap at any moment. In this moment, you knew the choice was yours. Would you defy her once more, or would you bend to

Her body tensed when you stood and approached her desk, but there was something else there too - a glimmer of anticipation in her eyes, the faint tremor of a smile on her lips. As you came closer, she leaned back slightly, giving you an inviting look over her shoulder at her pristine white blouse and skirt. "Are you sure, mon chaton?" she purred softly. "You know what happens when rules are broken."

Her voice was low and teasing, almost playful despite the edge of warning. The scent of her perfume filled your senses as you stood before her, the heat from your body radiating onto her skin like a physical touch. You could feel yourself trembling with desire, aching to be close to her even as the realization of what was about to happen settled in your stomach like ice water.

"I suppose," she continued, voice soft and

She smiled slightly, biting her lower lip as she leaned forward to give you a view of the delicate lace of her bra peeking out above the collar of her blouse. "Very well," she murmured, running a finger down your cheek. "But remember, rules are there for a reason." Her other hand slid beneath her skirt, finding what it sought, the cool metal pressing against your hip. "You see," she breathed, guiding you to take hold of the metal restraint, "I have ways of ensuring that things stay... under control."

She smiled gently and leaned back slightly, allowing you to pull the restraint fully out from under her skirt. "Oh, I have no doubt of that," she purred, eyes roving over your body as if committing every inch to memory. "But let's not rush things, shall we? We have all the time in the world." With a graceful motion, she unfolded her legs and leaned back against the desk once more, revealing herself fully in all her exposed glory.

Her eyes met yours, unblinking and filled with challenge. "You're so sure you can handle me?" Her voice was soft yet commanding, teasing yet firm, a heady mixture that made your blood race and your heart pound against your chest. "Then prove it."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she watched you approach her, feeling your presence almost like a physical thing. "That's the spirit," she purred, tilting her head to the side. The sensation of being fully exposed made her heart race and breath quicken, but there was an excitement beneath it all - the thrill of the challenge, of being in control while someone else thought they were.

She tilted her hips slightly, arching her back just enough to draw attention to her firm behind and inviting curves. "Come on then," she breathed, gaze flickering down to your hands before lifting back up to meet yours. The restraint gleamed between you, a silent promise of what was to come.

Her skin tingled where it met the cool air, an anticipation that made every nerve end seem alive and alert. "Show me how good you are," she whispered huskily, her