“Why hello Anne. You look beautiful like always,” he says, rising up from his chair and walking towards me with a triumphant smirk. He thinks he h...s me but I belong to no one. “Oh Professor, you always try to win me over with flattery," I respond. I walk around him and settle myself in the same armchair I had been in a few days ago. The memories send a rush of blood to my lower extremities and make me readjust myself uncomfortably. “I knew you’d come back.” “Don’t flatter yourself. I really. She left me standing outside for several minutes then called ‘Come in here, Miss Stocking.’ I entered the study, my heels clicking on the hard wooden floor; I started to look around the room. ‘Stand here and face your front.’ Marci motioned to a point alongside the desk. She was seated in a high backed leather swivel chair, legs crossed, revealing just a hint of stocking top; she flexed the riding crop in her hands. ‘You need to be taught some proper manners, Miss. More

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