Professor's Forbidden Punishment - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
You are reading Professor's Forbidden Punishment, Chapter 4: Chapter 4. Read more chapters of Professor's Forbidden Punishment.
I lost myself completely that day—one reckless moment with Ryan Evans in the equipment room, all heat and bad decisions.
When it was over, Ryan slid me Vincent Lowell's contact like some kind of consolation prize. The second his name appeared on my screen, I unleashed a flood of messages:
"Where are you? I’m dying without you."
"When are you coming back?"
"You promised to teach me more—was that a lie?"
Radio silence from Vincent. Meanwhile, Ryan turned into a human spam bot, blowing up my phone daily. The irony? After that sweaty equipment room fiasco, I wanted nothing to do with him. Yet there he was, clinging like bad karma, begging me to be his girlfriend.
"Get a clue. That was a mistake. I don’t like you. Never will." Send. Block. No regrets.
Vincent stayed ghosted. Just as I considered moving on to fresh prey, Ryan detonated my life.
He weaponized the campus forum, spinning this tragic tale about how I’d "seduced" him—poor, lovesick Ryan, who’d apparently pined for me forever. According to him, I’d lured him into that room, had my way with him, then iced him out like last week’s leftovers. The kicker? He played the ultimate victim card: a "conservative guy" (please) who’d "never been with a girl," now so heartbroken he had to take his sob story public.
The post went nuclear.
Suddenly, everyone was a detective. They unearthed my high school reputation—"Heartbreaker Queen"—while painting Ryan as some golden-boy scholarship saint. The court of public opinion reached its verdict fast: I was the campus Jezebel, the Thirst Trap Supreme.
Then Ryan dropped the grenade: leaked photos of Vincent and me flirting in class. Next thing I knew, Vincent was under investigation, and the comment section became a dumpster fire:
"Pathetic. She’s basically humping the air for male attention—even her professor?"
"Girl’s a walking STD. Any guy near her needs a hazmat suit."
High school insults had rolled off me, but this? Different league. My inbox became a war zone—hate from girls, graphic propositions from creeps. The cafeteria? Someone trashed my lunch mid-bite. Lectures turned into open mockery with classmates reenacting my "seduction techniques." Anonymous "gifts" piled outside my door—I sure as hell wasn’t opening those.
Overnight, I became Untouchable. Even my roommates acted like I’d contracted the plague.
Finally, I cracked. Cornered Ryan on the rooftop.
"Was this your master plan? We’re adults—why not just walk away? Do you even grasp what you’ve done?"
His smirk made me want to push him off. "A little backlash? Try living with how you wrecked me."
"We both knew exactly what happened that day. Cut the act."
Our shouting match peaked until Ryan suddenly lunged onto the ledge, face twisted like some tragic hero. "If I’m that disgusting to you, maybe I should disappear. Thanks to you, I’m already in hell."
When it was over, Ryan slid me Vincent Lowell's contact like some kind of consolation prize. The second his name appeared on my screen, I unleashed a flood of messages:
"Where are you? I’m dying without you."
"When are you coming back?"
"You promised to teach me more—was that a lie?"
Radio silence from Vincent. Meanwhile, Ryan turned into a human spam bot, blowing up my phone daily. The irony? After that sweaty equipment room fiasco, I wanted nothing to do with him. Yet there he was, clinging like bad karma, begging me to be his girlfriend.
"Get a clue. That was a mistake. I don’t like you. Never will." Send. Block. No regrets.
Vincent stayed ghosted. Just as I considered moving on to fresh prey, Ryan detonated my life.
He weaponized the campus forum, spinning this tragic tale about how I’d "seduced" him—poor, lovesick Ryan, who’d apparently pined for me forever. According to him, I’d lured him into that room, had my way with him, then iced him out like last week’s leftovers. The kicker? He played the ultimate victim card: a "conservative guy" (please) who’d "never been with a girl," now so heartbroken he had to take his sob story public.
The post went nuclear.
Suddenly, everyone was a detective. They unearthed my high school reputation—"Heartbreaker Queen"—while painting Ryan as some golden-boy scholarship saint. The court of public opinion reached its verdict fast: I was the campus Jezebel, the Thirst Trap Supreme.
Then Ryan dropped the grenade: leaked photos of Vincent and me flirting in class. Next thing I knew, Vincent was under investigation, and the comment section became a dumpster fire:
"Pathetic. She’s basically humping the air for male attention—even her professor?"
"Girl’s a walking STD. Any guy near her needs a hazmat suit."
High school insults had rolled off me, but this? Different league. My inbox became a war zone—hate from girls, graphic propositions from creeps. The cafeteria? Someone trashed my lunch mid-bite. Lectures turned into open mockery with classmates reenacting my "seduction techniques." Anonymous "gifts" piled outside my door—I sure as hell wasn’t opening those.
Overnight, I became Untouchable. Even my roommates acted like I’d contracted the plague.
Finally, I cracked. Cornered Ryan on the rooftop.
"Was this your master plan? We’re adults—why not just walk away? Do you even grasp what you’ve done?"
His smirk made me want to push him off. "A little backlash? Try living with how you wrecked me."
"We both knew exactly what happened that day. Cut the act."
Our shouting match peaked until Ryan suddenly lunged onto the ledge, face twisted like some tragic hero. "If I’m that disgusting to you, maybe I should disappear. Thanks to you, I’m already in hell."
End of Professor's Forbidden Punishment Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to Professor's Forbidden Punishment book page.