This Week in BL - All's Quiet on the BL Front
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
May 2024 Wk 3
Ongoing Series - Thai
Wandee Godday (Sat YT) ep 3 of 12 - I love how were getting a solid depiction of two queers just genuinely enjoying sex with each other. That’s actually rare in BL. In this case, it manages to also be weirdly adorable and cute.
Dee is such a tease. I guess Y likes a brat?
LOOK at those bedroom eyes!
Linguistics corner: when these two are being serious, sweet, or flirty with each other they use rao/nai which is kind of old fashioned and charming and not common in BL. They move pretty seamlessly into gu/mueng and back depending on the style of convo, tho. It's FUN to hear them talk.
Let the fake relationship commence!
My Stand-In (Thai Fri iQIYI) ep 4 of 12 eps - I HAVE THOUGHTS. I'm really enjoying the sinister backbone of this show. I hope they have the courage of their convictions in that regard and lean into a kind of sexy evil revenge narrative. It was a pleasure to watch the break up and I do not want a redemption arc for Ming or a romance for us. Fuck 'em, let’s just ride a revenge train, okay Joe baby?
That’s said, I totally sniffled at the ending scene where Ming (for two years!) has been paying penance cooking for two and waiting alone. Excellent pathos. Now, I understand how they're gonna make this a full 12 eps. And I’m excited about it. Carry on!
We Are (Weds iQIYI) ep 7 of 16 - I wasn't a fan of Winny & Satang in My School President but I'm loving them in this. The thing with Q, Toey, and Chain had me hooting with laughter. I think I’m finally just easing into the relaxed absurdity of this show. The key is not to expect anything from it. Just them being tiny gay idiots.
Two Worlds (iQIYI) ep 10 fin - Someday I’d like to really enjoy a MaxNat show, but today was not that day. (I feel like ever since Between Us I’ve been generally disenchanted with established OG pairs and what they’re bringing to the table. Perhaps that’s a discussion for another day. Cherry Magic excepted, of course.)
OK, so this final episode, they sure tried to fit a lot in. But that made the pacing better for me. So I kinda liked this weird cliff notes resolution to the story.
In conclusion:
MaxNat do a credible job with a messy script about parallel worlds, gangsters, and strange diseases cured by forest fruits. It sounds confusing because it is. The chemistry is excellent the side pair is entirely forgotten about, and one could drive a Tardis through the plot holes. Still, I found it modestly enjoyable if not at all rewatchable. 7/10
Only Boo! (Sun YouTube) ep 6 of 12 - I do love how bold and brash Moo is. He’s truly a great character, such an utter outgoing sunshine puppy focused on his pursuit of his older boy. I'm charmed by his utter harmlessness. They gave us a sweet coming out scene, and an awesome supportive mom. Frankly GMMTV has a good track record with moms. (With a few noted exceptions, of course.)
That said, I do keep forgetting this is a GMMTV offering. It just doesn't FEEL GMMTV. Just me?
OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ????) ep 1 of 10 - Starts tomorrow, will report on sitch next week. LeeFrank are back - not unlike the undead. But how do we feel about it? Unsure given their track record.
Ongoing Series - Not Thai
At 25:00 in Akasaka AKA 25 Ji Akasaka de (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - I like it. I like our sulky 2nd lead. He’s pouty, adorable, brash, and adding some much-needed tension to this narrative. The blurring lines between show within a show is a lot of fun. Probably the best I've seen done in BL so far.
Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 10 - I like that we got backstory, but we also sort of already knew it. So this ep felt a bit like filler. They are wonderful when they’re on screen together but when they aren't it's a bit dull. I hope we just get them together for the next 4 eps. But this is Japan, so I doubt it.
Blossom Campus (Korea Thurs Gaga & iQIYI) ep 1 of 6 - The image resolution on this show (via Iqiyi ) is terrible. Meanwhile, awkward crush. Jock nerd pairing. Dorky. Maybe a bit too much awkward/dorky for me? I'm not sold on this one.
Meanwhile the ordering then not eating or drinking of food continues. Very upsetting.
Boys Be Brave (Korea Viki) eps 5-8fin - This show was just never sure what it wanted to be. Slacker sunshine KiSub moves in with nerd JinWoo, mostly because he knows JinWoo likes him but won't confess and that's never happened to him before. It reminded me of some earlier KBLs like Behind Cut, yes is had bones but not much flesh, so it only just hung together and progressed through not very much plot in a jerking rattling fashion like an animated skeleton. All the story and chemistry was with the side couple and none of the screen time. That just annoyed me. What did this BL want to BE? Who tf knows. I, for one, don’t care, and resolve to think no more on it. 6/10
Blue Boys (Korea Sat YouTube) - This ended at 4 eps on a cliffhanger. Since this is a very small studio I don’t have a lot of faith in there being a part two. But they have bundled both this BL, and the GL, bingable chunks on YT. So if you want to binge it, it’s there. Just be aware that it ends on a cliffhanger.
My thoughts?
Promising reunion romances full of class and coming out struggles but I grade with what we got, not on expectations, and you know I HATE a cliffhanger. So yeah, it HAD promise but as of now it gets a 4/10 - fatally flawed. I reserve the right to change my mind if they amend for damages.
It's airing but...
You Made My Day (Thai YT) ep 1 of 5 - mini series staring the I Will Knock You couple Tar & Bom, started but I couldn't find it. I also didn't try very hard.
Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.
A Balloon's Landing (Taiwan movie) trailer - A frustrated Hong Kong writer, Tian Yu, meets a Taipei street gangster, Xiang (Fandy Fan from HIStory2: Crossing the Line), and the two of them embark on a journey to find the Bay of Vanishing Whales. Along the way, they discover unexpected twists and turns and close bonds, which brings out the message that "there is always someone like you in this world who is waiting for you. This released to cinemas in Taiwan, no word on international release.
In case you missed it
A really really thorough and fascinating article on 2 Moons 2 and what happened.
Next Week Looks Like This:
Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
May Releases
VBL (Taiwan) is releasing 4 'Special Episode' epilogues to their 4 2023 shows every Friday this month on Gagaoolala, Viki & Viu. Not sure on search terms or how to find these. (Or, frankly, if we need them.)
5/10 – You Are Mine
5/17 – VIP Only
5/24 – Stay By My Side
5/31 – Anti Reset
5/25 The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer - HoTae & DongHee are back but unfortunately not in a cinema near me. Side couple from Unintentional Love Story, same actors, same character names. I love them. I NEED TO SEE THIS.
5/28 My Biker 2 (Thai movie YT?) - trailer
5/30 Knock Knock Boys (Thai Thurs WeTV) - I'm hoping I can get it elsewhere since my WeTV account is inactive, but I do love Best and I'm interested in seeing him in a new pairing. That said, I'm not wild about Seng... so I won't be too cut up if I can't get hold of this. More here.
5/31 The Time of Huannan (Taiwan movie) - May not be BL
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
I'm a sucker for this king of casual claiming. (Only Boo)
It me! (Wandee Goodday)
(Last week)
Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @sunflower-positiiivity @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious
If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.
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Prerequisite
Masterlist
Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, power imbalance, blackmail, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You attempt to move on from your time with Professor Hansen, but can't seem to shake the past.. (plus sized reader)
Characters: Ransom Drysdale, some Lloyd Hansen
A note on reader characters:
For clarity, each reader will have a defined nickname when appearing in any installment not their own. This is Flora, previously featured in Below Average. This fic also features characters from various installments.
Note: Finally got this on paper.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3
Love you all like Donkey love Waffles. Take care. 💖
You cross your arms as you narrow your eyes at the front of the lecture hall. It's your last choice in elective but the only one you could get to pad out your schedule. Law. Hardly riveting stuff.
What's more intriguing is the professor. No, no, you haven't acquired a taste for them, if anything Hansen taught you to be wary of them. The very lesson that has you glaring down at Professor Barber, waiting for his first slip.
You're not clever by any means, you're just the only one looking for the signs. The same ones you saw in Tweed at your first meeting, those that you catch in yourself, and the other girls who won't say the truth aloud.
Brownie, that's the one. You see the way he looks at her and you note how she stays after class, every week. Only three weeks so far but a pattern is a pattern.
You twist your pen, the nib poking out, then do it again, retracting it. The clicking noise forms a tempo at your listless fidgeting. You have a study date tonight with the girls, what’s one more? You’re forming a habit of taking on lost souls, yourself just another wisp floating in the void.
You scribble down the date for your next quiz, your mind hardly processing the words as you guide the pen. You’re trying to plot your approach. You think you have an idea.
As Professor Barber dismisses class, you slide your notebook into your bag and hike it up onto your shoulder. At the edge of the row, as usual, you quickly descend as Brownie stays in her seat, waiting and watching her feet. You catch the small glances aimed in her direction from the man behind the podium.
You take out your phone and quickly text Cookie; ‘you got room for one more?’
You don’t wait for an answer. You don’t care. You’ve made up your mind, it’s a warning, not a question.
“Hey,” you come around the front row. The girl doesn’t seem to hear you. Or she’s ignoring you, “um, Brownie?”
She looks up, startled. She sends a look towards Barber but you ignore him. You cross your arms and sway, your skirt stirring around your legs.
“Remember me?” You ask, “you lent me your pen?”
“Oh, uh, I remember,” she squeaks, her voice thin and raw, as if she never uses it, “hi.”
“Um, so,” you try to sound casual, “I’m not really a law student. English,” you touch your chest and smile, “and I think I could use a study buddy, if you’re interested?”
“Er, oh?” Her brows draw together, “I don’t know…” she scratches her neck, another peek at the professor, “I–”
“Do you have plans? Or maybe you already have someone to study with,” you look away and frown, “sorry, I just figured I’d ask. I need someone to help me make sense of all this. I’m totally lost.”
There’s a subtle rumble, a noise you likely wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know to listen for it. You don’t even glance back at Barber as you hear him packing up. You sit in the chair next to Brownie and smile.
“I just figured you’re like, the smartest person in the class, and I need this grade to bring my average up. Please?”
She chews her lip and plays with the high collar of her turtleneck. She hides beneath her lashes, shrugging before she manages a tiny nod. Her fingers flutter and she shivers nervously.
“I can help,” she presses her fingers to the ribbed fabric of her shirt, “sure, I…”
“Me and my friends are meeting tonight, we’re getting pizza,” you chirp, “wanna tag along?”
“Friends?” She bats her eyes at you frightfully.
“Oh, don’t worry, they’re all super friendly and they’ll love you.”
“I… I don’t know. I’m not very…” she speaks so quietly you have to lean in to hear her.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to say much,” you assure her, “Cookie always bakes way too many brownies. You could help us finish them, huh?”
She looks terrified. Her mouth scrunches and shifts back and forth as she measures her options. You know exactly what she’s thinking. That man will be disappointed. Well, let him be. Unless he wants to step forward and admit that he’s fucking a goddamn student.
“Hm, okay, but… just for a little. I can’t stay very long.”
“Just until I figure out what actus reus means, alright?” You stand and send a sharp look towards the professor. He quickly dips his chin down in feigned concentration as he looks over his notes. Not today, fucker.
“Okay,” she gets up and lifts a crochet bag, her hand shaking as she tucks away her laptop in the slouchy purse, “um, I’m sorry, but… I forgot your name.”
“Don’t be sorry,” you wait for her to pass you before walking at her side towards the door. She’s still hesitant and reluctant as she looks over her shoulder, “Flora.”
💮
“This is Brownie,” you introduce the mousy addition to the girls as she tries to fade into the blue wall, “she’s in my law class.”
She doesn’t move. She just looks up with round eyes as the others cheerily call out their welcome, already clustered around the table amid coffee cups, laptops, and a few baked goods. The scent of cinnamon mingles with the stale caffeine.
“Welcome, Brownie,” Muse gives both of you a start as she appears at the girl’s other shoulder, “I’m Muse! Oh, you have wise eyes.” She flutters around the girl, a boa around her shoulders, “you would look wonderful in jade. Yes, it would highlight your undertones.”
Brownie frowns and mutters, but you can’t tell if it's a thank you or just a whimper.
“She says I’m a sapphire type,” you remark as you wave her away from the door, “you can toss your coat with ours,” you motion to the bench bench piled with outerwear, “then I’ll introduce you to the rest… they’re not as bouncy as Muse.”
Brownie gives up her dark gray coat and steps out of her plain boots. She dresses in a very simple way. Turtle necks, corduroys, nothing with much shape or structure. Her style can be best described as part of the wall.
“So,” you walk just ahead of her. She stays behind you as if trying to hide, “Tweed, Foxy, Sunny,” you point out the three girls at the table, “you met Muse,” you look at the artsy wraith fluttering around the counter, “and Cookie, our host.”
The woman in question puts down a plate of sugar cookies, “hi, nice to meet you! I’ll find an extra chair.”
Brownie doesn’t say a word. You realise it might be a bit overwhelming. She reminds you of Tweed in that way. You point her to a chair and assure her you’ll take whatever Cookie comes up with. She sits, hugging her bag in her lap as she stares at the table.
Foxy gets up as you head for the counter, you pause and look back at Brownie, “you want some tea? Something to drink?”
She chews her lip before she answers, “water, please, if that’s okay.”
You nod and go to the cupboard. Foxy comes up next to you and leans on the counter as you shift to pull out the water jug from the fridge. You come back to her as she keeps her voice low.
“What’s up with that one?”
“Law professor, I think,” you mutter, “could barely get her here.”
“Fuck, another one, huh?”
“Uh, yeah, you know, shitty men everywhere,” you fill the glass, “I brought her here to try to forget all that. Like the rest of us.”
“Sure thing,” she taps the countertop with her nails and pushes off.
You put the jug back and take the water over to Brownie as Cookie emerges with a small white stool. You accept it, the seat lower than the rest so that you feel like a kid at the table. You pull out your laptop and open it up. Your phone slides out with it and you catch it as notifications flash on the screen.
You tap your thumb to expand the preview; Insta, emails, and a text that neither surprises or interests you. Professor Dillhole’s message is swiped away without reading a single word. You got your grade and now you’re done with him. He doesn’t seem to get the hint.
“So, Brownie, you’re in law? Are you going to be a lawyer?” Foxy asks.
Brownie shrugs and nods. You wonder for a moment how she’ll manage a courtroom when she can barely give a vocal answer. Well, she has lots of time to figure that out.
“That’s really cool,” you say, “you know, I don’t have the mind for all that. I can’t really sort out one act from the rest. I’m more into bigger narratives than the tiny details.”
She looks at you, still hugging her bag. She’s ready to leave at any moment.
“Why don’t you stay a while?” You poke her bag, “how about we compare notes? I’m sure I missed all the important stuff. This tort gibberish is doing my head in.”
She puts her chin down and slowly lifts the flap of her bag. She slides out her laptop and gently lowers the bag between her feet. She opens the lid, almost reluctant, and her desktop comes to life. You see the email in the corner right before the notif flicks away. A.Barber… Mmm.
For a moment, you feel a pang of guilt. You hope your impromptu invitation doesn’t cost her anything. That he doesn’t hold it against her. You should’ve thought of that sooner.
“Let me find…” she trails off, her finger running over the trackpad.
You wait patiently. No, you don’t feel bad. She deserves this. Like the rest of you, she needs a place to get away. Just a single space where she doesn’t have to be crushed under his thumb.
💮
You sit outside of Dean Drysdale’s office. His secretary types away at her keyboard and you twirl your phone in your grip. It’s mostly a paperweight these days as you ignore almost every message that comes in. Blocking didn’t work on that jag off.
You jiggle your foot anxiously. This meeting is important. You really need this scholarship and through the grace of your hard work, and the regrettable cooperation of a particular professor, you’ve met all the requirements. The last piece, an interview with the dean.
The clock ticks, drawing your attention in the stagnant office. It’s five after. The dean is running late. That doesn’t really matter, he can do whatever he wants. But you’re early and that can only help in his consideration.
You hear muffled voices near the other side of the door. Shadows darken the frosted glass emblazoned with the dean’s name and credentials. You sit up straight but try not to look too eager. The door opens and your heart falls into your ass. Fuck, not this guy.
“Friday,” Dean Drysdale claps Lloyd’s back as they emerge from the office.
“Can’t wait,” Lloyd returns but his eyes are on you, “ah, sorry,” he says to you, “didn’t mean to keep him so late.”
“No problem, professor,” you stand and grip the strap of your bag, masking your disgust with a smile, “Dean Drysdale,” you greet the other man, “nice to meet you. I’m Flora.”
“The one and only,” he doesn’t offer his hand, “looks like you’re running behind so better get started.” He points you into his office, “later, Hansen.”
He tosses the last remark over his shoulder as he turns to follow you through the door. You enter and hover across from his desk. You hate to be presumptuous. He shuts the door with a click.
“Sit,” he orders tersely as he rounds the desk and falls heavy into the leather chair.
You lower yourself. Your nerves are wily, especially after seeing Professor Hansen. You had no idea he was close with the dean.
“Hansen speaks highly of you,” he begins, “as do the rest of your professors.”
“Oh, I, that’s great.”
“So, I have thirty candidates. Why should I choose you?” He leans back, elbow on the armrest, posture nonchalant as he swivels.
“Um, well, I work hard. I keep my average up where it needs to be. I have gotten involved in quite a few extracurriculars, I helped with the library bakesale and–”
“Boring. Got it. That’s all in your application,” he dismisses, “just like all the other ones. Bunch of filler. But why you?”
You’re speechless. You prepared for this but you feel as if you fell into this from thin air. You don’t know what he wants to hear.
“How many parties have you been to?” He asks suddenly.
“What?” You can’t help your surprise.
“Come on. You’re a young coed. I know how it is. So, let’s narrow it down. Fall term, how many?”
You squint and look at the wall, thinking. You’re not much of a partier. You twiddle your fingers and count in your head.
“Four, maybe,” you push your shoulders up. “I don’t really… I mostly just spend my spare time with my friends–”
“Are they hot?” He chuckles and sits up, your mouth falling open. “Relax, I hate these things. So uptight,” he rolls his shoulders as he wheels closer to the desk and plants his elbows, “at least you're honest. The last six freshmen that sat there insisted on a big O. Think they would see the plaque and realise I’m not stupid.”
“Well, I… yeah,” you chew on the tip of your tongue. You really don’t know how to proceed. “I brought a portfolio of my essays–”
“No time for that,” he waves his hand at you, “think I got the picture.”
“Oh,” you frown.
He stares at you, poking his cheek with his tongue as his brows draw together. He hums and sits back, once more swiveling back and forth. He tilts his head and clucks.
“You’ll hear from my secretary,” he declares at last.
“That’s it?” You gulp.
“Yeah, whatever, I got about five more of these today and I need a fucking coffee,” he lifts his feet onto his desk. “Be a doll and send in Sienna when you leave.”
“Um, okay,” you stand slowly, “thanks for your time.”
He doesn’t respond as he takes out his phone. You hide your unease and leave. As you emerge you see the name card on the secretary’s desk. Sienna.
“Er, he told me to send you in,” you approach.
She looks up at you and snaps her gum, “great.”
She gets up as she rolls her eyes and you swiftly march past the desk. You don’t understand what just happened. Did you fuck it up? What did Hansen say? Oh my fucking good, you swear if he–
Your thoughts race ahead of your feet as they carry you without intention. You find yourself in the stairwell, stunned and confused. You turn down the first flight only to dodge out of the way of a figure coming up. You yipe as you find yourself shoved into the corner, Lloyd’s arms outstretched to pen you in.
His hands brace the painted brick as he smirks down at you, “hey, sweet cheeks, long time, no suck.”
You curl your lip at him and snarl, “get away from me.”
You shove on his chest and he retracts his hands, grabbing your wrists. You struggle with him but he easily pushes your hands up, pinning them to the wall. He leers as looms in front of you, his eyes scanning down your body.
“Damn, I forgot how good you look in those skirts. Panties or nah?”
“Fuck off–”
“Always looked better around your waist–”
“I said get the fuck off of me. I’ll scream–”
“I’d love to hear it,” he snickers, “what happened to us, flower? We were doing great. Living life, fucking hard.”
“You’re an animal–”
“We had a good thing, the whole professor-with-benefits gig worked for us, didn’t it? It sure as hell loosened you up. Look at you, all wound tight–”
You snap your teeth at him and he recoils, barely saving his nose from the chomp. He cackles and keeps you trapped, squeezing your wrists tighter. His laughter rolls out to a growl.
“You know, if you get that scholarship, they need two professor’s to sign off on it… but you know, I don’t just put my name on anything–”
“You’re pathetic.”
“I fucking am when I got blue balls, honey,” he scoffs, “just touch em. A little bit.”
You grit your teeth and throw your knee up. You yank your hands free and shoulder past Lloyd as he bends and grips his crotch. He chokes on his breath as he leans against the wall. You bluster away as quickly as you can.
“Not like that,” he gurgles as you charge down the stairs, dizzy as you turn down the next flight.
So much for that scholarship.
💮
You stare at the C circled in red on your last quiz. Law isn’t your forte, that’s clear. Your GPA and hopes for that scholarship are dwindling in that simple little letter. You look up at the front of the lecture hall as Professor Barber reclaims the podium, preparing to take up the answers as he does every other week.
You sit closer than before. You’re always sure to take the seat next to Brownie and she has yet to tell you to stop. Something about her though suggests that she won’t ever do that. No has been erased from her vocabulary.
You don’t miss the Professor’s eyes as they flit up to your study buddy but quickly meet your own. He darts them away, caught. You wonder, however, if your middling grade has something to do with that. Oh well, you won’t regret doing the right thing.
As you open your laptop, an email pops up in the corner. ‘On Behalf of Dean R. Drysdale’. You click on it before you can stop yourself. You’re holding your breath. You read it slowly.
‘Schedule a follow up for the dean’s decision’.
What? That’s not an answer. Fuck. Why can’t they just put it right there? Yes or no. You have to stop yourself from slamming your laptop shut. You grab your quiz and rest it over your keyboard. You look over at Brownie, she stares at the paper in her hand. She got an A, as always.
“Good job,” you whisper.
“Mmm, yeah,” she returns as she drops the quiz onto her folding desk. “He’s a good teacher…”
“Sure,” you accept dryly.
She glances at you but says nothing. You hate to be sharp with her but it’s pretty obvious what’s going on. You’re just smart enough to know to be cautious. You can only be there for her when she needs you. It would be too risky to do anything else. And not fair to Brownie, that man could destroy her career. You’ve been her, you just hope she finds her way out.
“Alright, let’s get started,” Barber calls out, quieting the class, “it seems we need a lot of review on case law.”
💮
The hour is unexpected but you don’t think much of it. A dean is busier than most and you can’t help but imagine that Drysdale is even less elated to be meeting at such an off-time. Seven in the evening on a Friday is prime time, even for those outside the coed population.
You show up to an empty office. Sienna is gone, the place desolate. The vibe is off. Something about it reminds you of another meeting. No, this isn’t Hansen. Still, you’re on edge, vigilant as you approach the dean’s door, an amber glow through the frosted glass.
You knock and cross one arm over your chest, clutching your upper arm. You sway as you wait. Deja vu paralyses you on the spot. It can’t be. It can’t happen twice. This is about the scholarship.
The door opens and Drysdale steps back as he gives a flippant greeting, “come in.”
He has a glass in hand, a dark brown liquid in marbled crystal. He sips as the door falls open. You step inside and look around the office, the framed degree behind his chair and the several photographs placed around them; a previous dean with his imperious features, and a large house with a rustic landscape crowded around it. You hover at the threshold.
“Close the door,” he sits heavily, “these old buildings are drafty as–” he stops himself and smirks.
He drains the last of his drink, liquor by your measure, and puts it on the marble coaster. You shut the door and sit, just like last time. You can’t help but be slightly irked to think he brought you all the way here to issue you a rejection.
“So, top three,” he points a finger gun at you as he slumps in the same lackadaisical way, “Flora… you’re a star. Shining reviews. Can’t say my professors ever said anything nice about me but you… you even got Hansen singing your praises.”
“Oh,” you utter.
“I’ve known him a while. We were in the same frat, you know? He was a senior when I was a freshman, hazed me real good but look how things turned out,” he leans an elbow on the armrest and cradles his chin. He watches you. “All these years and I never heard him say anything nice about a fucking student.”
You’re put off by the obscenity. Further, upended by his history with Lloyd. What does that have to do with anything?
“You know, he’s all about self-discipline but you get a few scotches down his gullet and he’s like an open book. Also…” he raises a finger, “leaves his phone unlocked.”
You try not to let that suspicion turn to panic. He can’t know. Even if he did, it’s not your fault. He should be talking with Hansen, not you. He’s the one abusing his position.
“You let him fuck you in his car,” he sits up and laughs, his hand on his stomach, “looking at you, I never would’ve guessed.”
“What? How–”
“I mean, he was hitting it from quite the angle so I don’t blame you for not noticing the phone in his front pocket…”
“No.”
“Yes,” he cackles. “Listen, sweetie, it’s not the first time it’s happened. Some girls just don’t have anything else to offer, so who am I to be mad if they use what they got.”
“I’m not– I’m not like that. He made me–”
“Oh, I’m sure the promise of an A plus helped,” he scoffs as he lets his hand drift down his stomach, “so what can a scholarship get me?”
He gropes himself through his russet coloured pants. Your throat constricts as you clutch your purse tight in your lap. You’re rigid, alight in horror and shame. Of course Lloyd didn’t walk away without something.
“I’ve waited twenty years for this,” he plants his feet.
“No, I’m not– I’m not doing this again.”
You stand and Drysdale rips his hand away from his crotch, snapping his fingers, “with that video, I could take you to the review board and have you kicked out. Not only that, all your credits would be invalidated.”
You swallow and wince. No, this can’t be happening. Again. You’re stronger than this. You’re worth more than these men’s dicks.
“So, sweetie pie,” he reaches forward and takes his phone off his desk, “we’re gonna make a nice little video for Hansen and show him how it’s really done.”
You shudder and hug yourself, “I…” your throat is dry, your heart hollow. What other choice do you have? You’ll lose everything. “I’ll do it, but no video. Please.”
“My rules. I am the dean and you are… the slutty coed.” He tuts, “mmm, classic Pornhub fodder.” He taps the screen of his phone, “let’s go. Get your clothes off.”
He aims the lens at you. You look at the floor. You can’t move.
“Please, turn it off.”
“Get your fucking clothes off,” he repeats, “I want to remind that fuckface what he’s missing out on.”
You dig your nails into the back of your arms then let go. You keep your head down as you lift the strap of your purse over your head and throw it in the chair behind you. You unzip your coat and shrug it off. The room rings in your ear and blurs in your vision. Your breaths are shallow and painful. Your skin is buzzing.
Your coat falls and you pull down the straps of the denim dress you wear over a flowered blouse. You shimmy it past your waist and peek up for just a minute. Drysdale bites his thumb as he records you.
You quickly tear away your gaze and continue. You unbutton the blouse and turn as you fight to free your wrists from the cuffs. Goosebumps speckle over your skin. You close your eyes and ball your hands before pushing your fingers wide. You touch the top of your stockings.
“You can leave those on, cheeks.”
You gulp and retract your hands. You pause and turn back to face the desk.
“Tits out, ass out, go on.”
No wonder he’s tight with Lloyd. Birds of a feather. You reach back to undo your bra and sling it onto the chair. You hook your thumbs in your panties and step out of them.
“I always liked an extra helping,” Drysdale taunts, “her cups overfloweth… is that Shakespeare?”
You don’t answer. You fight the urge to hide behind your arms. You raise your head. You have a morsel of dignity left in you.
“Come here,” he demands, “I wanna fuck those tits.”
You cringe but obey. If Lloyd taught you anything it was to just get it over with. You round the desk as he opens his fly. He pulls himself out above the zipper, playing with himself, rolling his thumb over his tip as he growls.
“Knees, baby, I’m sure you know the drill,” he snickers. You get down as he wiggles his dick in your direction, “push those things together.” You grab your chest and smush it together. He taps your tits with his tip and laughs, enjoying his mocking.
He guides himself down under your tits and slides between. He cups a hand around yours as he refocuses the phone on you. He rocks the chair back, moving his pelvis as he slowly starts to thrust. He groans at the friction. You clench your jaw tight, dreaming of biting off the end of his overinflated worm.
His breath hitches as he fucks faster, the bottom of his wolly sweater rolling up his muscles stomach. You could just punch him right there. You could grab him by his balls and twist. No, that would only assure you of your scholarly doom.
“Look at me,” he demands.
You snap your eyes open as he shoves the phone in your face. You shy away but he keeps fucking, turning the lens down towards your tits. He gives a breathy laugh and it trickles into a moan. Weak and pathetic.
“Shit, yeah, that’s good,” he groans, “give it a kiss, baby.”
You grit back your disgust. You bend your neck and kiss his tip as it pokes through.
“With tongue.”
You force your tongue out as his tip pops up again and you swirl around it, planting a sloppy kiss on the salty flesh. He twitches and hisses. He pulls his hand away from yours and grips the chair.
“That’s good, get up,” he snarls, “turn around.”
You suck in a chestful of air and do as he says. You get to your feet and turn away. He grabs your hips and rolls closer.
“Bend over.”
You bend and rest your elbows on the edge of the desk. He angles you down into his lap, your body stretched between the two. He rubs his dick against your ass, once more tapping. He kneads the flesh. You shake your head as he tilts you further down.
He prods at your cunt and you can’t help but clench. He pushes against your entrance, tight and burning as he grunts, bulling his way past the resistance with a slap against your thigh. He latches onto your hip and pulls you down another inch.
“It’s all you. You just gotta fuck that scholarship outta me.”
You bite your lip and force yourself to take him. You hip down until you reach your limit but before you can pull back up, he grabs on and holds you in place.
“More.”
You sink your teeth in deeper, urging yourself lower until it’s unbearable. You take him in fully and let out a shaky breath through your nose. You raise your ass as he lets you go. He lets out a raspy noise and you repeat the motion. You keep your motion mechanical and slow, trying to adjust.
“Faster. I wanna see you jiggle.”
You roll your eyes and claw at your arm, arms crossed over the desk as you rock your weight over him. The flesh claps loudly as his chair squeaks with each descent. He groans and gulps, hand wandering over your flesh, along your thighs, across your ass, up your back.
“Fuck, look at her go,” he snarks, “you work that dick. Just like that.”
You close your eyes and let the scowl mar your features. You speed up. He’s almost there. You can feel the tension, you can hear it in his voice.
“Ah,” he pinches you meanly, “stop!”
You try to keep going but he pushes you off of him. He growls and the chair jars as he sits up. You puff and peek around your shoulder at him.
“I’m cumming in your fucking mouth,” he cradles his balls, half-keeled over. “Open the fuck up before I blow–”
You get back to your knees and glare at him. You won’t falter. You have nothing over these men but that. You lean your head back and open your mouth. He lets himself go and holds the camera over you.
“Well, not gonna finish itself.”
You grab him, roughly, and he grunts. A warning. You ease up and stroke him, placing your mouth by his tip.
“Look into the camera, cheeks.”
You glare at the camera, you hope it can catch the sheer loathing radiating from you. You stroke him, squeezing harder and harder until he spasms and mewls. He spurts all over, missing your mouth and streaking up the bridge of your noises and across your brow, a few strings over your cheek.
He gasps and clings to the chair as if he might slip out of it, the camera drooping with his arm. You let him go and wipe your slimy hand. You stand and snatch a tissue from the box on his desk and wipe the mess from your face. His heavy breaths fill the silence.
“Can I go?” You ask flatly.
“I got nothing else for you,” he spits out.
You refuse to look at him as you dress. He chuckles. You fight not to turn around and throw every single thing on his desk at him. You hate him. You hate Lloyd. But more, you hate yourself.
“Congratulations,” he says as you pick up your purse, “did I mention, paperwork went through yesterday.”
You whip around and stare at him. You quake with anger, eyes hot with unspent tears.
“Hey, even I got deadlines. Had to make the call last week.”
You take a step back. What the fuck? You stumble away, ready to scream, ready to strangle this man. For now, you’ll settle for never having to see him again.
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