The Steel Ruler That Brought Them to Their Knees

Renata was twenty-eight years old, with a fiery red mane that drew attention the moment she walked through a door. She was attractive in a way that made people uneasy: she did nothing to be liked, and that made her more dangerous. She had spent six years as a self-defense instructor on the private campus of Valdecruz, and beneath her formal clothes she hid trained muscle and reflexes almost nobody suspected.

The senior boys fantasized about her in low voices. They watched her cross the courtyard with that blend of desire and respect that amused her so much, never understanding that any one of those young bodies stripping her with their eyes would fit perfectly beneath her heel if she decided it should. Renata knew it. And she liked knowing it. Sometimes she imagined them on their knees, hard cocks trembling just from brushing the tip of her boot, begging permission to lick her thighs.

The campus had a problem the administration preferred not to name. A group of three older students had taken over the hallways. They charged a toll to anyone who wanted to pass in peace, pressured the freshmen, humiliated whoever they felt like. Paying was cheaper than ending up in the infirmary, so almost everyone paid. The authorities, tied hand and foot, looked the other way.

That night Renata was assigned to lock up the east wing. She walked slowly, a folder under one arm and a steel ruler in the other hand, an old measuring instrument she used in class to correct posture. She checked classroom by classroom that the lights were off and the doors locked.

One more and I’m done.

She opened the last door. What she saw froze the blood in her veins and, a second later, lit something much darker inside her.

Inside was one of the three. The biggest one, the one who called himself the boss. He had a girl of about twenty-two cornered against a desk, one hand over her mouth while the other held her wrists. She struggled, her eyes flooded with panic. When she saw Renata in the doorway, those eyes flared with a plea that needed no words.

—Get lost, professor —he spat without letting her go—. This is none of your business. Leave, or you’re next.

Renata didn’t move. She tilted her head and let her gaze travel over him slowly, the way someone sizes up an animal that thinks it’s stronger than it is.

—You? —she asked, her voice calm, almost amused—. You’re going to break me with that? With that little boy cock you’ve got stuffed in there?

She dropped her gaze to the boy’s crotch with such practiced contempt that he felt naked. He let go of the girl to face her, and that was his first mistake. The second was pulling a switchblade from his back pocket.

—You know what happens to whores who open their mouths? —he growled, advancing.

—Show me —she said.

***

The first slash of the blade cut the air a hand’s breadth from her face. Renata didn’t even step back. She dodged the second by turning her hip, and when she saw the boy’s clumsiness she couldn’t hold back a smile. She enjoyed this. She loved the exact moment when a man used to being in charge discovered he had no idea what he was doing.

He lunged a third time with all his arm behind it. Renata raised the folder and the blade sank into the cardboard, trapped. With her free hand, she swung the steel ruler from below in a clean, brutal arc, straight to the center of his legs, like a bat going after the perfect pitch.

The sound was dry and metallic, and it mingled with a howl that seemed to come from his stomach. The boy lost his breath. The knife fell to the floor. He followed a moment later, folded over himself, both hands clamped between his thighs, unable even to scream properly.

—What’s the matter? —Renata asked, crouching to his level with poisoned sweetness—. Did I hit a bad spot? Those balls you brag about so much?

He was trembling, white as paper, trying to get down on his knees and not quite managing it. For the first time in a long time, the boss of the campus wasn’t giving orders to anyone. Renata felt a familiar heat rising up her back, that tingling that always ran through her whenever she had absolute control over a man who, a minute earlier, had thought himself invincible. She felt her cunt dampen all at once beneath her skirt, a heavy throb between her legs that reminded her how much she liked this. Her nipples hardened against her bra until they showed through her blouse.

It wasn’t violence that turned her on. It was the exact inversion of power, the precise second in which the predator became prey and discovered, in his own gut, what so many had felt beneath his weight. Renata drew a deep breath, savoring the silence broken only by the boy’s gasps, and allowed herself a smile none of her students had ever seen.

She turned to the girl, who was still pressed against the desk, hugging herself.

—Are you all right? —she asked, her voice changed now, warmer.

The girl nodded, still trembling. Her name was Camila, she learned later. Renata held out the steel ruler. Camila stared at it in confusion, and then the instructor winked at her. Nothing more was needed.

***

Renata moved behind the thug and pinned his arms behind his back, opening his body, leaving him exposed and on his knees in the middle of the classroom. With a sharp yank she tore off his belt and pulled his pants down to his ankles. His boxers followed the same path. The boy’s cock was bared, shrunken, pathetic, hanging between already swollen, red balls from the first steel gift. He understood what was coming and began to beg through tears, a very different picture from the guy who covered mouths and collected tolls.

—Please, please, no… —he babbled.

—Look at me —Renata ordered, and her voice brooked no argument. He raised his ruined face—. You’re going to learn something tonight. Strength isn’t making others afraid of you. It’s making sure others are afraid of you. And from now on, the fear comes from me. With this pathetic thing you’ve got between your legs, you couldn’t scare a cat, right? And you were going to fuck the girl with this. With this.

She grabbed his flaccid cock between thumb and forefinger, as if lifting a dead insect, and showed it to Camila with a low laugh. The boy moaned in shame. Renata let go abruptly and gave his balls a dry slap with the flat of her hand. He howled.

Camila stepped forward. Her knuckles were white from gripping the steel. She drew back from below, just as she’d seen Renata do, and brought the blow down exactly where it belonged. The ruler slammed into the naked balls with a fleshy, flat, obscene crack. The boy’s scream bounced off the empty classroom walls and disappeared down the corridor. Camila was breathing hard, not from fear now, but from something new, from a rage turning into power in her own hands.

—Again —Renata murmured, almost in her ear—. Slowly. Let him feel it.

And Camila did it again. And again. The thug’s cock bounced with each impact, a soft piece of meat that no longer meant anything. Renata yanked his hair back to force him to watch as a girl who ten minutes earlier had been trembling now destroyed his manhood with blows.

—Do you feel that, asshole? —she whispered in his ear, and slowly licked his earlobe, tasting his terror—. See how everything you thought you were is deflating?

When they were done, the boss was a crumpled lump on the floor, whimpering, his crotch swollen and purple, unable to look them in the face. Renata lifted him by the collar of his shirt, without apparent effort, and dragged him that way, with his pants tangled around his ankles and his ass exposed, all the way to the infirmary. Before leaving, she locked the classroom and returned calm to the hallway.

—Go home —she told Camila as they said goodbye—. And the next time a man corners you, remember what it feels like to have him on his knees.

Camila nodded. The steel’s reflection still lingered in her eyes.

***

What Renata hadn’t expected was to find the other two waiting for her in the main gallery. They had heard the screams and, instead of running, they were coming toward her with that stupid grin of people who still understood nothing. They surrounded her, sizing her up with their eyes, whistling under their breath.

—Don’t you want to have a good time with us, red? —said the tallest one, sliding a hand to his belt—. We’re going to teach you manners. We’re going to fuck you front and back until you forget your name.

Renata stopped in the middle of the corridor, beneath the only lit lamp. Slowly, with a calm that should have warned them, she gathered her hair into a bun and undid two buttons on her blouse, just enough to reveal a heavy, firm cleavage, two big tits outlined beneath the lace. She licked her upper lip and held their gaze.

—Yeah? —she said, her voice husky—. And with what exactly are you going to fuck me, boys? Show me. Take it out. I want to see what you brought me.

The two boys lost their heads instantly. So certain were they of victory that they unbuttoned their pants right there, shoved them down to their thighs, and pulled out their cocks, grabbing them in their hands and jerking them in front of her, offering themselves, showing off, convinced they had won before they’d begun. They swelled quickly, stubborn and veined, pointing at her face. One spat into his palm and started jerking harder, groaning under his breath, already imagining what he was going to do to her.

—Get on your knees, professor —the other panted, gripping his cock by the base—. Open that mouth. We’re going to fill you with come.

That was when Renata’s smile changed.

From the folder she took not one but two steel rulers, one in each hand. She spun them between her fingers with the familiarity of someone who had spent years using them for more than measuring.

—You took them out yourselves —she said—. Saves me the trouble.

The first one didn’t even manage to react. The steel in her right hand whipped upward from below and split his balls with a brutal crack, flat against the hard flesh of his erection. The boy’s cock buckled upward from the impact and he folded like a knife, clutching himself, voiceless, eyes wide as saucers and mouth in a silent O. Renata gave him no respite: she drove the toe of her boot between his legs and sent him to the floor, face up, his cock still rigid, pointing at the ceiling, his balls already purple. She stepped on his cock with the sole of her shoe, crushing it against his own belly, and calmly twisted her ankle, feeling the flesh throb beneath the leather.

—Was this what you were going to fuck me with? —she asked, pressing harder—. With this cock that flattens like a worm?

The boy could only manage a broken moan. Renata raised the ruler again and brought down two precise blows, one after the other, on the exposed balls. The scream tore from his throat and a thin strand of semen escaped the tip of his cock, a sad, involuntary spurt triggered by pain. Renata laughed softly.

—Look at that, you even came. What a fast finish, baby. Lucky you didn’t get it into anyone, you would’ve lasted three seconds.

The second one tried to pull up his pants and run, but his ankle snagged in the fabric and he fell to his knees, in the perfect position. Renata took her time with him. She circled him like a trainer, enjoying the panic, the way the boy covered the cock he’d been so proud to display seconds earlier.

—Hands at your sides —she ordered.

He shook his head, sobbing, squeezing his balls with both hands.

—Hands at your sides —she repeated, lowering her tone until it became a whisper more frightening than any shout—. Don’t make me say it a third time.

The boy, beaten, obeyed. He took his hands away and remained kneeling there, offered up, crying, with his cock hard despite everything, traitorous, pointing upward, mapped with thick veins. That erection made him more ashamed than nakedness. Renata looked at it for a long moment, almost tenderly.

—You get hard, don’t you? When a woman is really in charge, you get hard. Repressed little slut —she licked his earlobe, then bit it—. We’re going to fix that.

She crouched down in front of him. She grabbed his cock with one hand, firm, without tenderness, and lifted it to hold it high, leaving his balls hanging exposed and taut. With the other hand, the steel ruler. Blow. Blow. Blow. Each impact drew out a new howl, a tremor through his whole body. His cock kept standing hard between her fingers, pulsing with pain and with something else, something he didn’t want to admit. Renata’s smile grew wider and wider. She loved feeling that hot flesh beating against her palm while the boy fell apart in moans.

That obedience, that total surrender of a body that minutes earlier had threatened her, was what excited Renata most all night. She felt her panties soaked and clinging to her cunt, her thighs pressed tight together, her breathing heavy. It wasn’t the blow. It was the instant before it, the moment when a man understood that his will no longer belonged to him. It was holding a hard cock in her fingers and knowing that body obeyed because it had no other choice.

—Come —she ordered him suddenly, beginning to work her hand up and down his shaft, hard, mercilessly, a dry, humiliating motion—. Come now, in front of me, like the little dog you are. Show me how quickly you can do it.

The boy was crying and groaning and shaking his head, but Renata’s hand kept working, squeezing, pulling. His hips started moving on their own, thrusting against that hard fist milking him by force. Within seconds, through sobs, his cock burst and shot thick ropes of semen that splattered his own chest, shirt, and chin. He came while crying. He came because she told him to.

—Good boy —Renata whispered, letting go of him with contempt and wiping her hand on the boy’s shirt—. Now you know what your cock is for. For whatever I say.

The final blow landed precise, measured, perfect, once again on the empty, flaccid balls. And then the other. Renata would later say she thought she heard, somewhere in there, the unmistakable sound of something breaking so it could never be the same again.

***

The next day the campus woke in an odd, almost reverent silence. The news had spread like wildfire. In the hallways, the freshmen who had spent months with their heads down now walked upright. Some approached Renata to thank her in low voices; others simply watched her pass with a blend of respect and fear that suited her better than any praise.

Camila was waiting for her, leaning against the door of her classroom. She was no longer trembling. In her hand she held an identical steel ruler, and she held it with a naturalness that made Renata smile.

—Will you teach me? —the girl asked.

—I’ll teach you —Renata replied—. But you learned the first lesson last night, and it’s the only one that matters. No one puts you on your knees if you decide who kneels.

Nothing was heard of the three thugs for several days. When they reappeared, they kept close to the wall, never raising their voices, doing everything they could to avoid crossing paths with the redhead who walked the hallways with a folder under her arm and a steel ruler swinging in her hand. They walked strangely, with their legs slightly apart, and every time they saw her pass, what little they had left between their legs instinctively shrank.

Renata passed them without stopping. She barely spared them a sidelong glance, just enough to see them flinch.

—Men —she muttered, almost to herself, and went on her way, feeling between her thighs that wet heat that never quite left her anymore.