Lessons in Sin

by Pam Godwin

“The Queen of England is the longest-serving female head of state in world history. She didn’t achieve that status by engaging in oral sex with a Burger King employee. She earned it through duty, respect, and marrying appropriately.” Her chin snapped up, eyes blazing. “It’s your role as a Constantine heiress to do the same.”

“You’re a Constantine. Your mouth represents this family, and I decide what you do with it.”

I wanted to crush on boys, wear my own clothes, and live a normal life. Why was that too much to ask? The blow job with Robby Howard hadn’t been my first. He was just another new guy in town, a college freshman attending the nearby university. He didn’t know he wasn’t allowed to touch me. I would’ve given him my virginity, but just like with the others, my babysitting bodyguard had put a stop to that. Maybe it was because Robby didn’t have a trust fund and had to work at Burger King to pay his tuition, but he was the final straw with my mother. And here I was, facing the fallout. Regrets? Oh, I should have them. I should have a handwritten, tattered-around-the-edges journal full of them. Most eighteen-year-old girls did. But I wasn’t like other girls. I wasn’t allowed to make mistakes or have regrets. Somehow, I was supposed to learn life’s lessons by being perfect. What a load of shit. “You think I can’t get into trouble here?” I stormed toward her, fuming. “I’ll find a way, Mother. I’ll find another Robby Howard—” “Mention his name again, and you’ll be writing to him in prison.” “Writing to him?” I screwed up my face, incredulous. “I don’t want a relationship with the guy. I just want—” “Don’t—” “—sex. For once in my life, I want a little fun and excitement.” Desperation drove me to my knees at her feet. I clutched her hand on the armrest, my tone taking on a pleading edge. “I want to experience normal girl stuff, explore things, experiment, and stretch my wings. I want ...

“Can’t you feel the weird darkness in this place? The oppression?” “Don’t confuse oppression with structure and discipline. You need a strict environment.”

A man stepped in, dressed head to toe in black. His shoes, slacks, and button-up shirt absorbed the shadows in the hall, the somberness of his attire serving only to accentuate the stark white collar at his throat. He was a jarring shock to the senses. I’d never seen a Catholic priest in person, but I had a mental picture of what one ought to look like. Scrawny, old, unattractive, bitter, prudish… Good Lord, this man decimated every stereotype in my mind. The starched black clothes failed to conceal his hard physique. He was well-built without being bulky, entrancing without camera filters. Lean muscle flexed at the seams, the threads molding around toned limbs. His shirtsleeves were pushed to his elbows, revealing sculpted forearms, and the definition continued through his legs, trim waist, flat stomach, and broad chest. Okay, so he loved Jesus and worked out. Not a crazy notion. What scrambled my brain, however, was the outrageous perfection of his face. He had that chiseled jawline that women loved about my brothers. The blunt angles, square shape, and hint of shadow that the sharpest blade couldn’t quite scrape away. He wore his brown hair in finger-raked dishevelment, short on the sides with the longer strands on top, arranged to look messy. A trendy style. Youthful. Not that he was young. Maturity lined his features. No wrinkles. But there was a distinguished air of authority in his glare. A hardened glare that could only be attained with life experience. He was clos...

I scrambled to my feet and brushed off my pants while inching closer to my mother. I wanted to grab her and beg her not to leave me here with this priest. But something told me I shouldn’t show fear or weakness in his presence. His gaze fed upon the trembling in my hands. The twitch of his lips said he liked it. He enjoyed my distress. God, I hoped I was wrong. Maybe his frosty greeting was nothing more than a scare tactic to keep new students in line.

“Father Magnus offers a unique training program for girls like you.”

His hand lowered to his side, drawing my attention to the motion of his thumb rubbing against his forefinger. God only knew what that subtle gesture meant, but it made me wonder if he were fighting the impulse to reach out and strangle me.

Did he think I was disrespectful? Mouthy? Slutty? Ignorant? What had he been told about me? And how much of it was true?

Hollywood liked to portray Catholic school priests as tyrannical and heartless. But that couldn’t be accurate. Godly people were supposed to be compassionate. Except I didn’t detect an ounce of compassion in his stony eyes. Instead, they promised insufferable rules and swift punishment.

“For minor misdeeds, you’ll pray the rosary. Other penances may include an early curfew, manual labor, or social isolation.” His low, velvety baritone was a taunt in my ears. “In extreme cases, corporal punishment is employed.” “That’s…” My mouth dried. “You mean abuse?” “Physical pain and psychological humiliation.” “Oh my God.” I wasn’t aware of my feet moving backward until I bumped into my mother. “You hit your students? Like…with a paddle? A yardstick?” “Strap and cane.” “What?” I froze, certain I hadn’t heard him correctly. “It’s not a common practice at Sion Academy, but sometimes, a heavy hand is required.”

“No.” I spat away the last shred of respect I had for this woman. Then and there, I made a promise to myself. She thought I was bad? She had no idea. Bad girls got kicked out of boarding school. I vowed to do everything in my power to get expelled. “If you leave me here,” I said, “I’ll tarnish our family name so completely you won’t be able to keep it out of the press.” Unmoved, she arched a brow at Father Magnus. “She didn’t use to be this quarrelsome. I don’t know what’s gotten into her.” “Not Robby Howard. Or any other guy.” I lifted my chin. “You’re the world’s biggest cockblocker.” “You’re walking on thin ice, young lady.”

I braced for the pain that I knew her response would inflict. But it was Father Magnus who reacted. He stepped forward slowly, menacingly. I tried to hold my ground, but his powerful strides crushed the distance, forcing me to retreat. He crowded my space, his towering frame putting me at eye level with his chest. No part of him touched me, but I didn’t give him a chance, my spine bowing, my entire body recoiling as I fought to refill my lungs. He stayed with me, bending closer. I shuffled back, and he advanced again, and again, every step trampling my boundaries and incinerating my bravado. If I wanted to survive this, survive him, I couldn’t let him bully me. But my limbs flinched without conscious volition, my feet sliding in reverse, instinctively fleeing the nefarious vibes radiating from him. Tight cords and ridges of muscle—too much power lay beneath his unassuming clothes, ready to back up that threatening scowl. Was he angry? Or did he look at all his students like he wanted to break them over his knee? “What are you doing?” Pulse racing, I continued to retreat until my spine bounced off the doorframe. “Back off. Don’t touch me.” He didn’t lift a finger. No physical contact between us. But he didn’t ease up, either. His steps were deliberate and unhurried as he forced me into the hall with nothing more than his proximity. I couldn’t ignore how tiny and breakable I felt next to him, how physically inferior I was compared to his strength and size. But it wasn’t just...

I expected indifference, but what I saw in his expression was worse. His eyes glinted with triumph. He thought he’d won. He thought, from here on out, I would cower and cease resisting, that I would be malleable and easy to control. He thought he had my capitulation. As if. He’d never crossed swords with a Constantine. My destiny was of my own making, and I was willing to ruin my reputation to get the hell out of here. If he stood in my way, I would take him down with me. “I promise you this.” I squared my shoulders and stood, facing him head-on. “I’m going to make your life a living hell.” “Hell is fast approaching, little girl. But I assure you, it’s not coming for me.” With a cruel twist of his lips, he stepped into the classroom and shut the door in my face.

Story of my life. My last name preceded who I was in my heart, and it wouldn’t be any different here.

To win this, I would have to take a page out of her book, no matter how vicious my opponent. Hell is coming for me. Not the words I expected to hear from a priest’s mouth, but to be fair, I threatened him first. I stepped toward the classroom, placing my hands on the door. My mother’s muffled voice drifted from within, drawing my ear to the wooden barrier. “I investigated you, Magnus. You’re well respected in the church and held in high esteem by your fellow teachers. But I’m more interested in your history before priesthood. I find it strange that you decided to become a late-vocation priest, considering that before the age of thirty-one, you led a rather excessive, self-indulgent life.” My breath cut short, my whole body going still. “Self-made billionaire.” Her heels clicked through the room, punctuating her words. “New York’s most eligible bachelor—”

He was forty. Older than I thought. But young enough to be her child. Just another pawn in her self-aggrandizing quest for control. With any luck, he would say something to piss her off, and this would all work itself out on its own. “I wonder,” he said, his voice rumbling like a distant storm, “what kind of woman threatens a man of the cloth.” “A smart woman. I trust no one. Not even a priest with a squeaky-clean record.” “If you’re suggesting—” “I’m not. You agreed to my conditions. Don’t let her leave the property. No males in her room, including yourself. Don’t allow her in your private quarters, no matter how innocent the reason. Don’t bend any of the rules I put forth without speaking to me first, or I’ll shut down this school and make sure you disappear for good.” A swallow stuck in my throat. Was she protecting me? My mother, a mama bear? I couldn’t believe it, but man, did I feel it. It warmed me to the marrow. Until she added, “I don’t want a scandal, Magnus. It’s that simple.” My stomach bottomed out, and my eyes closed, hot and achy. This had nothing to do with me. It was just another one of her power trips.

“What are you doing?” His sharp voice ran through me like a sword, puncturing my lungs. I lowered my arms, dropped my brow to the cool glass, and steadied my breaths. Then I turned to face Father Magnus. “What does it look like I’m doing?” “Attempting an escape.” “Ooh, good idea. I’ll just use my bionic arms to bend the bars out of the way. After I break all my nails trying to open the damn window.” He stared at me like I was an idiot. If it were possible, that scowl looked even meaner than before. Spine-chilling. Malicious. Beneath the cloud of disapproval, his eyes tapered, and his expression creased with disgust. Pure, unconcealed abhorrence. As if the mere sight of me made him want to inflict bodily harm. If he had any secrets, an attraction to young girls wasn’t one of them. But I wasn’t ruling out abuse. Or misogyny. From the way he continued to glare at me, he was giving off some serious homicidal vibes. Maybe he just hated his life and didn’t know how to be anything but a salty, miserable dick. With perfectly shaped lips. He ambled toward me, his gait slow and threatening. A thrum of unease beat in my veins as I sidestepped, blocking his line of sight to the bat. Too late. He’d already spotted it. “Don’t hurt it.” I held up my hands, warding him off. “It’s just a pup. I’m just going to let it out through the window and—” “You want to save it?” He pulled up short, his brows a heavy mantle of suspicion. “Why wouldn’t I?” “Bats carry rabies. Did you touch it?” “Not al...

Halfway down the corridor, I sensed her slipping out of the classroom behind me. “Where’s my mother?” She tried to sound confident, but her voice wobbled at the edges, confessing her distress. Who would’ve thought the pampered Constantine princess had the capacity to care about something other than herself? Her reaction to the bat was a disarming presentation of her character. But she canceled it out with her snarky comebacks and passive-aggressive attempts to belittle me. No student had ever been so bold. As she trailed behind, waiting for my answer, her animosity clotted the air. A glance over my shoulder confirmed it. An inferno consumed her huge expressive eyes, and her lips curled back, baring sharp kitten teeth. Pale blonde hair hung in tangles around her stiff arms, her tiny hands balled into white-knuckled fists at her sides. Her furious stare didn’t lower, never weakening, completely dialed in on the source of her outrage. She despised me. That was atypical, too. All my students felt some form of trepidation in my presence. But none hated me. Quite the opposite. Too often, I found myself reprimanding unwanted flirtation or, worse, infatuation. I suspected that wouldn’t be a problem with Tinsley Constantine. But despite all that, she was the same as every other spoon-fed brat with a trust fund, personal driver, and closet full of designer shoes and emotional baggage. I should tell her the truth about her mother, that the woman intended to leave without saying goodb...

She sucked in an indignant breath, and the dainty cords in her neck strained against her skin. Flawless skin. Slender bones. She would bruise so beautifully in the wrong hands. In another life, older women were my weakness. But not this one. Not this life and not this woman. Caroline was, by definition, glamorous. Regal cheekbones. A ripe mouth slashed with scarlet. A body that boasted regular visits to the gym. And not a shimmering blonde hair out of place. I found her deeply unappealing. She was arrogant and power-hungry with a code of ethics befitting Lucifer himself. From what I knew through my own investigation, the cold queen had no redeeming qualities. She held my gaze in a silent standoff, one that lasted another second before she lowered onto the seat behind her. She was a smart woman. Smart enough to know I wasn’t a man who backed down. As for the daughter… Tinsley slouched deeper in the chair, belligerently directing her gaze anywhere but in my direction. “Miss Constantine.” I stepped before her, steeling my voice. “Sit up straight.” Her eyes lifted. Heart-stopping eyes that expressed emotion with visceral clarity. They burned straight through me as she said, “Two words. One finger.”

I kicked the toe of Tinsley’s shoe with enough force to send her shooting up in the chair. “That”—I motioned at her ramrod position—“is the posture I expect in my classroom. I’ll deal with your other transgressions later.” Frozen in shock, her lips formed a pouty O. Her hair, the palest shade of gold, reached nearly to her waist, fading to the color of cultured pearls as if naturally whitened by the sun. Long lashes swept outward from extraordinary wraparound eyes that were wide, light blue, and unduly striking. Add to that her small, pointed nose and delicate bone structure and she had a distinct elven look. A purebred beauty with a face that unveiled magic whenever she was provoked. In thirty years, she would be exquisite beyond compare. The kind of allure that elicited intense reactions from the beholder. Most men would find her desirable now, but I was one of the unconventional few who had a strong aversion to teenagers. Even when I was a teenager, I sought older women. An obsession that ultimately became my destruction.

I wasn’t a kind priest. But I was an accomplished leader. Running this school allowed me to retain the one thing I needed above all else. Control. This small, sequestered corner of the world was my kingdom, and I knew how to deal with its wealthy, powerful families. Like the one sitting before me.

“Read it. Acquaint yourself with how things are run here. I don’t care what your last name is or how you do business in your world, but you will not come into mine and make threats again. This is my domain, and the decisions I make are in the best interest of the students. I will not cater to the demands of the Constantines. Not mother nor daughter nor any of the assistants, lawyers, bodyguards, or other minions you send my way.” I clasped my hands behind me, relishing the stiffness in Caroline’s shoulders. “If you have a problem with that, show yourself out and take your daughter with you.” They could stay or go. It made no difference to me. My class load was light this year. Either I would have a lot of free time on my hands or the bulk of my days would be allocated to Tinsley Constantine. No question the girl would be a full-time job. And no surprise she had something to say about it. “Are the bars on the windows in the best interest of your students? Do you provide straitjackets, too, so we can’t stab out our hearts in misery?” I didn’t acknowledge her, didn’t so much as glance her way. I held Caroline’s gaze, waiting for her decision. “I was right about you.” She gathered her purse and phone and stood, facing me toe-to-toe. “Hard and uncompromising. Exactly what my daughter needs.” Translation: I won’t go easy on the girl. She was right about that.

I turned my attention to the girl, her posture stick-straight and head angled away from the door. I didn’t need to see her eyes to know they were blinking back tears. Sadness, anxiety, fear. In about three seconds, she was going to channel all that into anger and direct it at me. Three. Her breathing quickened. Two. She clenched her hands. One. “Send me home.” She twisted to face me, her words rushing out. “I don’t belong here. I’ll never believe in your outdated religion or follow your stupid rules. You’ll regret every second that I’m here. So tell her you changed your mind. Go before she leaves. Tell her I’m not a good fit for your school, and you don’t want me here.” “No.” “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” She gnashed her teeth. “I’m going to fuck up every plan you have for me. Swear to God, my fuckups will be epic.” “That’s okay. Your punishments will be just as epic as your fuckups.” “You…” Her chin jerked back. “Priests don’t curse.” “How do you know? Have you ever met one?” “No, but this can’t be… It’s not normal.” She shrunk back a little, her palms sliding over her thighs. Then she straightened, her gaze fixed across the room. “You, the bat, the bars on the windows… None of this feels right.” It was time to educate her on a few things. I sat on the edge of the desk beside her, resting an elbow on my thigh. “We’ve had a number of peregrine falcons venturing down from the mountains. They nest on the church and along the window ledges. It wasn’t a problem until the...

During the ten-minute walk to the dormitories, Tinsley kept pace with my longer strides, all the while pushing her bottom lip forward in an expression of discontent. Or maybe her lip naturally rested that way. Pouty. Sexy. No, Christ. I snatched away the thought before it drew breath. I couldn’t think it, whether it was true or not. But there was something else appealing about her at the moment. Her silence. Sweet, glorious silence. When she wasn’t talking, she seemed older. More mature. With a lithe figure and self-assured gait, she carried herself with refinement and grace. Not in a deliberate way. No, she tried very hard to exude defiance and hostility. But when she let her guard down, her breeding shone through. Obedience was second nature to her. Submissive obedience. That whisper of truth was harder to snuff out. It spoke directly to the parts of me I longed to forget. “Were you telling the truth about the falcons?” she asked. “I wouldn’t lie to you. Not about that or anything else.” “Oh. Right. Because priests don’t lie?” “Because I don’t lie. Left here.” She turned into the next hallway, depriving my view of her face. “Will I be able to see the falcons outside? Do the fledglings fly near the school?” “Sometimes.” “Cool.” Her spine remained stiff, her tone terse. But the mention of the birds seemed to improve her mood by a small degree. “We’re leaving the main building now.” I escorted her into a vacant corridor. “It houses the classrooms, offices, library, and dini...

What the hell had just happened? I let a student get under my skin. That was a first, but I had it under control. It’d taken me by surprise was all. No harm, no foul. Tinsley was oblivious, and I hadn’t crossed any lines. My only interest in her was on a nonphysical, nonsexual, academic level. It wouldn’t happen again. I just needed to walk off the buzz circulating through my body.

There were no surprising revelations about Tinsley herself. She was the princess of the family—innocent, sweet, and primed for a marital union of Caroline’s choosing. No doubt Caroline had been working that angle for years, positioning her daughter to marry into a family that strengthened her empire. The thought made me sick. No one should be used that way, but it happened. Hell, it had been happening for centuries.

“You don’t like anything to be easy, Magnus. That’s never been your style.” I reclined back, drinking, my mind swirling with everything I needed to do tomorrow. “Is she as beautiful as the photos on the internet?” he asked. “Caroline?” “No, idiot.” He rolled his eyes. “The daughter.” If another teacher asked me that, I wouldn’t trust his intentions. But Crisanto was a priest first and cherished his living relationship with Jesus Christ above all else. Unlike me, he’d been called for a higher purpose, and he served with his whole heart. I’d never known a human being more honest and incorruptible than this guy. Which was why I came here nine years ago, seeking his counsel. He didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear. He told me what I needed. Then he convinced me to stay. Not just to save Sion Academy, but to save myself. “She’s a brat.” I removed my collar and loosened the top buttons on my shirt. “An uncooperative, disrespectful, sharp-tongued hellion.” “That’s not what I asked.” “She’s pretty for an eighteen-year-old.” With eyes that glowed like faerie fire when she was emotional. And her boldness? God help me, her feisty spirit made my blood run hot. I was fascinated, and that fascination made me exceedingly uncomfortable. “Crisanto…” I stared into my glass, swishing the amber contents around and around. “I had a relapse.” “Okay.” He set his drink down and twisted on the couch to face me, instantly sliding into his priest role. “Is this a confession?” “No. It was just a feel...

I would have to be deliberately disobedient. Disorderly. Creative. Brave. Bolder than ever. I would have to do things I would’ve never dared to do in Bishop’s Landing. Being bad wasn’t in my nature. I couldn’t fathom breaking things or stealing from someone. Hell, I’d never even smoked a cigarette.

God. That was no boy. I clapped a hand over my mouth, muffling my gasp as I drank in the glory that was a half-naked Father Magnus. Dressed in nothing but gray sweatpants, he stood beneath the window and stretched his arms overhead. The thin sweatpants hung low on his narrow hips, molding to the thick shape of his bulge and clinging precariously to the firm, round muscles of his backside. That ass was no joke. I silently willed the waistband to give up its hold and fall already. He clasped his hands behind his head and turned toward the sunrise, tilting his face heavenward as if soaking in the rays. His stance highlighted the definition along his spine, the dips and grooves of his carved torso, and the power in his legs. Stunningly beautiful. Dangerously delicious. Sinfully pornographic. Behind him, a cluster of outdoor fitness equipment scattered along the rubber jogging trail. The path wound across the campus grounds and led to the locked gate. The girls obviously knew his schedule and set their alarms to watch him run that trail and stop at the equipment beneath the window. At six in the morning, he probably thought he had privacy. Dummy. Never underestimate the mind of a woman. Gushing whispers continued around me. They hadn’t noticed my presence, their eyes glued on the forbidden view.

A smile stretched my face. I was right there with them, agreeing and nodding with everything they said. From afar, when his condemning glare wasn’t aimed at me, he was the sexiest man alive. But up close, with his heat and anger and intoxicating scent smothering my senses, he was terrifying. He did a few more stretches on the strength bars, eliciting sighs from his audience. Then he jogged off toward the gate, his ass flexing through ground-covering strides.

“I remember things. Like all the lickable parts of the male anatomy.” I pulled in a breath. “So you, uh, watch him run every day?” “Morning worship begins at six,” the girl in the back said. “His body is our temple, and we come to pray.” A chorus of Amens erupted, followed by laughter.

I didn’t have the curves, confidence, or sex appeal to seduce a man like Father Magnus. But I didn’t want to succeed. I wanted to get thrown out. As I wandered back to my room, I turned the idea over in my head. Not gonna lie. He still scared the bejesus out of me. But if his corrections were as bearable as the girls claimed, I could power through them to earn the one punishment that would send me home.

She glared back and crammed the cookies into her mouth. Crumbs tumbled down her untucked shirt and gathered on her skirt. A skirt that wasn’t long enough to cover her thighs. “Stand up and join me in the hall.” I clasped my hands at my back with my feet braced apart. She took in my stance and slowly rose. Jesus. Most of the skirt had been sheared off. It was so short that only a strip of plaid peeked out from beneath her shirttails. Rather than hiding the destruction, she held the box of cookies out to the side and struck a pose. “Rate the fit.” “The fit?” “Old people,” she huffed under her breath. “The outfit. Rate the outfit.” Carrie choked on a laugh and quickly blanked her face. “I gave you an order, and every second you disobey is another strike.” “You’re no fun.” Tinsley tucked the cookies to her chest, munching on another handful as she marched into the hall. “Carrie, grab the scissors off the desk and join us.” I held out my hand to Tinsley. “Give me the food.” She pushed her lips out and stepped back, hugging the box tighter. “I haven’t eaten since lunch. Yesterday.” “Catholics fast at least one full hour before receiving the Holy Eucharist.” “I don’t know what that means but…phew. Good thing I’m not Catholic.” She ate another cookie and stared at my waiting hand. I didn’t move, didn’t look away as I mentally added up her infractions. Her breathing hastened, and she slowly moved the cookies toward me. I gripped the box, and she held on for a moment, tugging, testi...

Father Magnus’s classroom had been empty all morning, save for the man himself. For the past three hours, he sat in the row behind me, working on his laptop. He was so eerily quiet, so stock-still, I might’ve forgotten he was there. But that was impossible. His presence overwhelmed the very air, smothering it with his dark masculinity and the echo of his promise. It’ll be unpleasant. He was really playing up my impending punishment, drawing out the suspense and dread. It was working. I envisioned a physical beating with some kind of dungeon-like implement, one I would fight tooth and nail. I would do everything in my power to make him regret keeping me here. But deep in my gut, I was scared. Pulling in a breath, I turned to face him. “You finished?” His low, rich timbre vibrated through me as he lifted his eyes from his work. “Crushed it.” I’d considered not crushing it. If poor test scores meant more one-on-one time with Father Malicious, it would give me more opportunities to land a spot on his banned-from-Sion list. But I couldn’t do it. I didn’t care if I was perceived as disobedient, entitled, or promiscuous. But I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone thinking I was dumb. My pride could only take so many hits. He looked at his watch. “You still have forty minutes left. Most students run out of time during these tests.” “I don’t know what you want from me. I answered all the questions.” “If you didn’t do your best—” “Yeah, I know. More strikes. Geesh.” “Head to the dini...

As I treaded out of the classroom, his gaze burned a hole between my shoulder blades, and I knew. I just knew he was counting down the minutes to whatever punishment he had planned for me. At the doorway, I peeked back, and sure enough, his eyes were waiting, watching, glowing with anticipation. With a shiver, I bolted down the hall.

After dinner, I would bring them water and a variety of food. But for now, I lay down on my side, contentedly watching them eat. Until I fell asleep. It was a horrible accident. I hadn’t even meant to close my eyes. But when I woke, I knew an hour or two had passed. I was in deep fucking shit. Within the shelter of tree roots, Jaden and Willow curled up beside the partially eaten bread. Sound asleep. Safe. I left them there and raced back to the main building with dread gnawing the lining of my stomach. By the time I reached his classroom, I felt like I was going to be sick. The door was shut, but according to the clock I’d passed in the hall, I’d missed both of his classes. My heart thundered as I reached for the handle, my hand hovering, trembling over the latch. I couldn’t do it. Not like this. I couldn’t go in there all scared and worn down and guilty. Not to mention, I needed to pee something fierce. My bladder felt like it was going to pop. Curling my fingers, I yanked my hand from the handle and slowly backed away. Two seconds later, the door opened. I held my breath as Carrie swept out. She veered in the opposite direction and slumped against the wall with her eyes closed. Her hands went to her heart, and she sighed with nauseating pleasure. Meanwhile, I stood a few feet away, feeling woefully different about the man in that room. But she wasn’t the one who had destroyed her uniform, violated the fasting rule, fell asleep in church, and missed his two classes. I’m ...

He sat on the edge of his desk without taking his eyes off me. Mine were glued to him. I didn’t know what he was thinking or what he intended to do, but I’d put myself in this situation. The least I could do was face him like an adult. “I won’t rehash your violations.” He tapped his finger on the desk. Tap. Tap. Tap. His hand stilled. “In total, you accumulated eighty-seven minutes of punishment.” “What? I didn’t have that many—” “Quiet!” My jaw ached as I held it rigidly shut, wanting more than anything to disappear. Was he going to beat me for eighty-seven minutes? Good fucking God, I wouldn’t survive that. How many strikes could I withstand before passing out? No one had ever hit me before. “Hear me loud and clear, Miss Constantine.” He pushed off the desk and stepped to the enormous crucifix on the wall. “You will serve your penance without complaint or sloppiness. Failure to do so will reset the clock and add more time on the end.” “I need to use the restroom.” “No.” He crooked a finger. “Come here.” I held his gaze with each begrudging step. It wasn’t easy. His eye-contact game was far superior to mine, his glare so much more arrogant and threatening. But I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cower. I was a Constantine, and dammit, I would act like one. So I kept my eyes leveled on his and sauntered across the short distance. “Stand here and face the wall.” He pointed at the spot beneath the morbid cross. At no time did I want to give him my back. I did...

I stood as motionless as possible, perspiring. I didn’t know there were sweat glands between my fingers, in my elbows, and under my barely there boobs. But I discovered them while listening to his sensual voice and trying not to pee down my legs. He turned the page and lifted his head, his attention riveted on me. Unbearable pressure squeezed inside me, burning, throbbing, threatening to burst. I clenched my thighs together, squirming with desperation, growing frantic by the second. How many minutes had passed? Thirty? Forty? I wasn’t going to make it. My lips clung to the row of carved toes as I bobbed and twisted on restless legs. I felt him watching me. He knew exactly what I needed. The time. Just tell me the time, you fucking bastard. Without lifting my mouth from its post, I hummed urgently and pointed to my bare wrist. He turned another page without taking his eyes off me. I felt the seal breaking between my legs and knew I only had seconds before all the muscles down there gave out. Please. I whimpered incoherently. He heard my goddamn call for help and did nothing. Except turn another page. For a fraction of a moment, I considered taking a doubled punishment and sprinting to the bathroom. But before my brain sent that message to my muscles, I lost the fight with my bladder. The dam broke in a hot rush of wetness down my legs. Urine sprayed my bare feet and splashed on the wood floors, forming a radius of yellow splatter and errant droplets that reached his chair. ...

The touch from his thumb lingered. It tingled along my lip as I wiped down my legs and scrubbed the floor. In the residence hall, the phantom sensation persisted as I showered and changed into jeans. In the dining hall, I caught myself touching my mouth and thinking about his damn thumb as I grabbed my dinner to go.

During my jaunts back and forth through the campus, I didn’t see Father Magnus. I looked for him. Not because I wanted to see him. But I was thinking about him. I couldn’t stop thinking about the tender way he held my face and stroked my lip. For so many years, I’d fantasized about receiving affection like that—a caress, a longing look, an adoring kiss. I wanted to experience it so badly I could taste it. But all I’d ever encountered was frantic fondling, sloppy kisses, and some interrupted blow jobs.

It wasn’t healthy to mull over the way a priest’s touch felt. It meant nothing to him, and if I didn’t stop obsessing about it, I would turn into just another lusty member of his boarding school fan club. It wasn’t that I thought I was better than those girls, but I had a sense of self-respect. At least, I did until I pissed myself. How could I ever look at him again? The humiliation was more than I could bear. But I didn’t have t...

What would Father Magnus do with orphaned opossums? It was safe to assume he wouldn’t love them and talk to them and tuck them in at night.

“What about Father Magnus?” Just saying his name sent a shiver through me. “I mean, he’s a magnificent male specimen. But he’s devoutly married to God, more than twice my age, and also my teacher. That’s a triple veto. Way out of bounds.” She lifted a shoulder. “It’s unfortunate. He’s the only person here who seems to see me and not my face.” She narrowed her eyes. “You might be number two.”

While on this side of the property, I wanted to sneak a closer peek at the gate. The few times I’d passed through it, I’d been escorted by Father Magnus. I turned the corner, bringing the exit into view and… Speak of the devil. A lone figure cut a formidable silhouette against the backdrop of the streetlights. He leaned against the gate, long legs crossed at the ankles, muscled arms at his sides, and his eyes… They waited for me, tracking my movements, hunting me in the darkness. The instinct to run gripped my bones. But what if he chased me? What if I wanted that? Under the weight of his steady gaze, I felt exposed, stripped down to my deepest vulnerabilities. He’d watched me pee all over the floor, and I wasn’t ready to accept that. The embarrassment was too fresh and raw. I needed the night to rebuild my defenses against him. After a well-rested sleep, I would come back stronger, more confident, prepared to stand up for myself. So I veered away, heading in the opposite direction. Without glancing back, I knew his gaze stayed with me to the building. I felt it blazing along my back. His undivided attention should’ve scared the crap out of me, but instead, I found comfort in it. I wanted it, and that bothered me most of all.

The following day, I sat behind my desk and stared at Tinsley Constantine with new eyes. She stood with her hands at her sides, shoulders back, and expression brimming with self-possession. Not a trace of the ashamed, teary-eyed girl I’d left in this room yesterday. Overnight, she’d regained her strength of will. With a few differences. Her uniform met the dress code. She’d arrived on time for Mass this morning and sat through the service with little interruption. But I was under no illusion about her sudden compliance. I suspected, after a night of brooding anger and humiliation, she was simply picking her battles. Or maybe I was the only one who spent the evening in turmoil. I’d never ordered a student to remove her undergarments. Never even considered it. At the time, I’d told myself it served a practical purpose, knowing full well she would lose the fight with her bladder. I’d counted on it. But when the tiny scrap of white cotton had slid down her legs, my entire body reacted. My thoughts turned inside out, and God help me, I hungered like I’d never hungered before. I ached for her humiliation so ravenously that when it finally arrived, it took all the concentrated restraint in the world not to fall upon her like a mindless, raging beast. I had a choice. I could’ve fucked her. Right here in my classroom, I could’ve broken my vow and fucked her with piss on her legs, virgin blood on my dick, and her heavenly tears soaking the hand I would’ve held so tightly to her mout...

“In all the years I’ve been running this school and the hundreds of tests that have come across my desk…” I tapped the paper. “I’ve only seen test scores this high one time.” My scores. But I kept that to myself.

“Academic aptitude of your caliber doesn’t go unnoticed.” I pressed my fingertips together in a steeple against my mouth, thinking. “Your high school grades are average. You weren’t in any advanced classes. Have you not been applying yourself in school? Or has something else been holding you back?” “I’m not smart, if that’s what you’re asking.” She strolled alongside the desk, letting her hand trail the surface’s edge. “I remember things. If I hear it or read it, I can recall it later. It’s just memorization. Nothing special.” Her intelligence went way beyond memorization, and whoever had told her otherwise should have their tongue ripped out. “The exam measured a range of cognitive abilities.” I studied her over the steeple of my hands. “That includes mathematical skills, spatial perception, and language. Your scores in science and logic are especially impressive, which has more to do with problem-solving and less to do with memory.” “Whatever. So are you going to put me in advanced classes or something?” My initial concerns had been that she wouldn’t keep up in those classes. Now that I knew she was ahead of our curriculum and every student here, I had to adjust for that. “I teach Advanced Placement Calculus after lunch, followed by Econometrics and Statistics. You’ll take those classes and spend the mornings with me in individualized instruction and religious training.” She seemed to perk up at that, and I could guess the reason. She thought I was her ticket out of here...

The one thing she failed to learn, however, was obedience. She’d had a few tardies and curfew violations, but the bulk of her misconduct began and ended with her mouth. She was a vulgar, loquacious wiseass, too smart for her own good, and lived every moment as if her only mission was to annoy me. No one had ever dared to talk to me the way she did, and no punishment seemed harsh enough to deter her.

After four weeks of social isolation, withheld meals, psychological humiliation, and manual labor, I knew what she needed. Physical suffering. Bodily pain. She needed my belt across her ass, over and over and over. In the years I’d taught here, I’d only used a strap and cane on three occasions. Those had been extreme cases, where the students were so wild and unmanageable that a physical beating hadn’t even fazed them. It hadn’t affected me, either. I had no physical interest in the girls, and in the end, all three were expelled.