The Professor's Punishment

Chapter 1: Caught

Note: This first chapter sets up the story but does not involve a ton of sexual content. Chapter 2 will begin Nick's humiliation and torment.

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I had always stolen things, and I had always gotten away with it. I figured if I was ever caught, I'd be thrown in jail. Not forced to strip in front of all these people…

I have stolen things all my life. My family was always kind of broke, but never enough to steal things. I adopted the habit only because my parents could never buy me the things I wanted. The first time I remember stealing something was an action figure from Walmart when I was probably seven. Recently I managed to swipe an entire outfit in one day from various stores at the mall. A shirt from Urban Outfitters, pants from American Eagle, and a pair of red Calvin Klein briefs from Macy’s.

And I’ve got to say, luck has always been on my side. Never caught, never punished. There have been some close calls, but I’m always sneaky enough to find my way out of trouble. And now that I’m living alone in an apartment on campus, my “talent” has actually become more of a necessity. I’m an art student with a shitty job at the campus bookstore. I sell my work online to try and generate some extra income, but the cost of shipping and supplies usually hits me hard enough to where I can barely break even.

              The best way to offset my losses has been to steal from people on campus. And to support my business, I’ve been stealing from my art professors. I feel bad doing it, Cox University, the all-male college I attend, does not have much respect for the art department. So, I know that every time I steal something the department takes a hit. But when I don’t have to pay fifty bucks for new brushes, it makes it a little easier to sleep at night.

              Today I have my advanced art class. It’s one of my favorites only because it’s taught by professor Leon. He is a beautiful man and the complete opposite of what you would expect from an art professor. He’s lecturing about “The Bather” by Cézanne. But as usual, I can only focus on him. He’s got medium-length sandy hair that is parted neatly on the side of his head. And despite his best efforts to constantly comb it back into place with his hands, it always becomes a bit disheveled over time. His eyes are a piercing blue, and his face always reminds me of the old-Hollywood actor Alain Delon. I could stare for days at his face, but maybe even more days at his body. Its only right when I start to notice how well his arms fill out his button-up shirt that I realize the lecture is over.

             I’m glad that the lecture is over but a tad bit sad that I can’t stare at him any longer. I take a while to pack my things and then head out to grab some lunch. But right as I'm about to walk out of the room, he calls me back in. “Nick! Could you come here for a sec?” I love the sound of my name in his mouth.

             He’s busy draping some white fabric over a stand, probably setting up a backdrop for a still-life project. As I re-enter the room, he is leaned over a stool in a way that his perfectly round and toned ass seems to want to burst straight out of his khaki slacks. Once I am back inside and just a few steps from him, he turns, revealing his equally impressive front side. His bulge is my favorite bulge. Its one of those rare bulges that a man really can never successfully conceal. A hypnotic mound of manhood which casts a shadow over his upper thigh. And in this lighting, I can see the impression of his tip on his khakis. I try not to let him notice my devious glances at it.

             “What do you need?” I ask. I hadn’t really considered why he would ever need to hold me after class. I was too bust thinking of the outline of his cock.

             “Well, I could explain but I think it would be easier to show you. Why don’t you follow me?” He makes it sound at first like I have a choice, but then throws his arm over my shoulder and guides me towards his desk. “So, I’m sure you’ve probably heard that the art department has some theft issues.”

             Fuck. I’ve been caught. But I can’t admit guilt. Afterall, if anything, someone must have snitched. And I don’t have any stolen art supplies with me today. He has no proof. I need to play it off. “Yeah, I’ve heard!” Fuck. That wasn’t very convincing. “Pretty fucked up.” Even less convincing.

             “I’m glad you think so, Nick.” He says as we sits in front of his computer. “I need help figuring it out. Who would do this? And I think you are the right guy for it.”

             I relax a little as he says this. Professor Leon and I have always gotten along well. I keep to myself in class. And I’ve never really been social. I just sit in the back and do my work. I don’t talk to anyone or cause any obvious trouble. And on top of that, my work is some of the best. He just trusts me. I’m in the clear!

Until I’m not.

Once we are behind his desk, he gestures to his computer monitor. My heart sinks and my head feel like its spinning once I see what’s on his monitor. Flashing across the screen are security camera photos of me stealing supplies. Its undeniable too. Some of them have me taking brand new packs of brushes and shoving them in my bag.

Professor Leon stops on one image in particular. I’m bent over with the top of my underwear poking out of my pants. “You see that? Right there? That guy with his ass turned towards the camera, rummaging through my cabinets and taking… what is that. Oh. Taking a brand-new tin of Prisma pencils. I stared at this for a long time wondering who this could be.” He leans back in his chair, pretending to inspect my ass. He goes so far as to put his hand on my upper back and shove me over the desk. “Yup that’s your ass.” His hand feels so large.

I stand back upright. Still utterly in shock. I don’t know what to do or say in this moment. “I can explain.” Is all that I manage. But I really have no defense. The evidence is undeniable.

“Oh, you don’t need to explain anything.” He says, leaning back in his chair. If I was not in such deep shit right now, it would be a lot easier to appreciate how good and sexy he looks when he leans back like that. “I already have the email written up and ready to go. I calculated the cost of everything you stole. Well – at least everything I can see you stealing. Its in the thousands, Nick.” He shakes his head. “You’ll be expelled from Cox, no questions asked.”

Something comes over me and I fall to my knees. Desperately placing my hands on his knees. “Please professor, no! Please! I’m sorry! I will pay you back, I will buy the supplies.” I start blurting out whatever comes to mind. “I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” He asks in a deep tone. I nod my head, holding back tears.

“I was hoping you would say that.” He rolls his chair closer to me so that my head is between his thighs. I can feel the warmth of his groin. That's how close I am. It really is such as shame that this is the circumstance under which I get my head between his legs. When I'm in deep shit. I look up at him, “The way I see it, you have three options. One! I send this email to the Dean and send you packin'. Two. You pay me back for all the supplies you stole.” He reaches down and into my pocket. His hand rummaging deep into my sweatpants and towards my inner thigh where my phone was resting. His finger grazes the side of my balls. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Then he slips my iPhone out and observes it. Its about four generations behind and the screen is cracked in multiple spots. "Judging by this phone, though, you cant seem to afford anything you don't steal." He's right. "So I have come up with a third option that I think you will agree with."

“Anything.” I repeat.

“Because of our budget cuts – and because of your behavior, I can’t afford to hire assistants, models, techs, or anyone. So… for this deal, you will come to this room everyday at 7:30 am, no later. And you will fill the void that has been left by your antics. You’ll be my assistant and help me clean up, help me set up my sets – or anything else I ask of you.” I feel relieved as he explains the deal. It honestly seems fair enough. I work for him with no pay long enough to make up for my damages. Honestly, it seems unfair that I get off this easy “Do we have a deal?”

“Deal!” I say.