My chest pressed hard against the cool wooden surface of the podium desk as Professor Harlan bent me forward. Papers scattered beneath me, someone’s problem set now crumpled under my elbows, red ink bleeding where my blouse rubbed against it. My skirt rode up my thighs from the force of his hands, the pleated fabric bunching at my waist. I felt the air hit the backs of my legs, then the sudden sharp rip as he gripped the crotch of my black tights and tore them open in one violent pull.
The sound of nylon shredding echoed in the empty hall. Cool air rushed against my exposed skin, and I realized with a hot rush of shame that my panties were soaked through, thin white lace already clinging transparently to my folds.
He didn’t say a word at first. Just stood behind me, letting the silence s
