What Happened When the Dean Locked the Door

Renata received the email on a Tuesday morning. Short subject line, no greeting: «Come to the dean’s office this Wednesday at three sharp». She read it twice, closed her laptop, and knew the fight with the design girl wasn’t going to end with nothing.

The office was on the top floor of the Criminology building, at the end of a hallway where the sun came in at an angle through an old skylight. Renata arrived five minutes early and stood in front of the door, mentally rehearsing what she was going to say. That the other girl had started it. That she didn’t regret anything. That if they’d let her ignore her from the beginning, none of those shoves would have happened.

She knocked twice. A voice on the other side asked her to come in.

—Good afternoon —Renata said, peeking in.

—Come in. And lock the door, please.

Renata frowned, but obeyed. The lock clicked shut with a dry snap that unsettled her more than she expected.

Beatriz Aldana was sitting behind the desk, her hands clasped over a hardbound folder. She was a woman in her fifties, with gray hair cut to jaw length and gray eyes that seemed never to blink. She wore a plain dark suit and a single silver ring on her pinky finger. Renata had seen her before at official events, always with the same expression: the expression of someone who has already decided before you even open your mouth.

—Sit down.

Renata sat in front of the desk. She crossed her legs, uncrossed them, crossed them again. Beatriz watched her do all of it without saying a word, with the patience of someone who has all the time in the world.

—I imagine you know why you’re here —the dean said at last—. The fight with Maite Iriarte. Shoving in the hallway, a split lip, a scandal in the cafeteria that made it all the way to the rector’s office.

—She started it —Renata replied, almost by reflex.

—That doesn’t interest me. I already called her in yesterday. She’s suspended for two weeks.

—And me?

—Not you.

Renata looked up, surprised. She had been expecting the “but.” Something else came instead.

—You’re the best file in your class —Beatriz continued, without changing her tone. It was still the same flat, precise, almost indifferent voice—. You’re going to be an excellent criminologist if no one throws you off course. Suspending you would be a waste I’m not willing to allow.

—Thank you.

—Don’t thank me yet. I’ve thought of a different punishment for you.

Renata felt a prickling at the nape of her neck. The word “punishment” in Beatriz Aldana’s mouth did not sound like an administrative procedure. It sounded like something else, like a promise she didn’t yet fully understand.

—What kind of punishment? —she asked, her mouth suddenly dry.

—Stand up.

Renata stayed still for a second. Then she stood. The chair scraped the floor with a squeal that, in another context, would have been comic.

—Take your clothes off.

For a moment she thought she had misheard. She looked at the dean, waiting for a correction, a smile, an explanation. None of that came. Beatriz was still watching her with the same calm, her hands still clasped over the folder.

—Excuse me?

—You heard me. I want to see your body. All your clothes, one item at a time. I’m in no hurry.

There was a strange silence in the office. Through the skylight came a square of light that fell exactly on the carpet, between them. Renata heard her own breathing. Then she heard something else, more internal: a warm current sliding down her stomach and settling between her legs without asking permission.

I’m not obligated to do this, she thought. I can get up, open the door, and leave.

But she didn’t. She started with the sweater.

She pulled it over her head slowly and folded it over the back of the chair. Then the blouse, button by button, looking Beatriz in the eyes. The dean didn’t so much as blink. Renata felt the room’s air growing denser. She unfastened her jeans, pulled them down, and folded them on top of the sweater. The stockings. The bra. Finally, the underwear.

When she was completely naked, she stood in the middle of the office with her arms slightly away from her body, not knowing what to do with her hands.

—Sit on the desk —Beatriz said, in that same neutral voice—. On the wood, not in the chair. And spread your legs wide. I want to see all of you.

***

Renata walked the three steps separating her from the desk. The wood was cold against her thighs. She braced her hands behind her, arched her back, and opened her knees until her feet hung on either side of the top drawer. Beatriz was still seated in her chair, now at just the right height to look at what was in front of her.

—Very good —she murmured—. You really are beautiful.

Until then the dean’s voice had been neutral. Now there was a crack in it, a low vibration Renata recognized at once. It was the first sign that Beatriz was not indifferent to the scene either.

The dean leaned toward a black leather bag at the side of the desk. She searched inside, pulled something out, and set it on the wood beside Renata’s thigh. It was a silicone dildo, thick, dark, in the recognizable shape of an erect penis and with a broad base.

—Take it.

Renata grabbed it with her right hand. It weighed more than it looked like it would. It was warm to the touch, as if it had been kept against someone’s body.

—Put it in —Beatriz ordered—. Slowly at first. I want to see how it goes in. If you need spit, use it.

Renata brought the tip of the toy to her lips and licked it from base to tip. She was more aroused than she was willing to admit. Her nipples had gone hard without her noticing. When she set it between her thighs, she discovered she barely needed the saliva: she was already wet.

She pushed the base inside with ragged breathing. The silicone made its way in slowly, filling her from within. She let out a sound halfway between a sigh and a moan. Beatriz didn’t take her eyes off her for an instant.

—Again —the dean said—. Slower. I want to see how you take it.

Renata pulled it almost all the way out and pushed it in again, this time controlling the rhythm. The sensation was exactly the mix of discomfort and pleasure she needed to forget where she was, who was watching her, the consequences.

At some point Beatriz stood and walked until she was behind her. Renata felt the dean’s hands first on her shoulders, then sliding down her sides until they reached her breasts. She circled her nipples with her thumbs, with unhurried precision, as if studying them.

—Keep going —she whispered in her ear—. Don’t stop for me.

She kissed her neck, in the hollow below the ear, then a little lower. Renata pushed the dildo to the hilt and rocked her hips. Beatriz’s voice was boiling against her skin.

—Do you like your punishment?

—Yes.

—I want to hear you say it with all the words.

—I like it —Renata said, almost voiceless—. I like it so much.

—Say it again. Louder.

—I love it. I love that you’re doing this to me.

Beatriz bit her earlobe softly. One hand stayed on her left breast, the other slid down her stomach to find the place where Renata’s fingers met the base of the toy.

—Faster. As if this were the only thing that matters in this office.

Renata sped up. Her breathing had become irregular. Beatriz circled her clitoris with the tip of her index finger while she penetrated herself at an increasingly erratic pace. It didn’t take long. When the first orgasm came, it was short and electric, almost violent; she had to lean back on her free palm to keep from falling off the desk. The silicone shone.

***

Beatriz took her wrist gently and made her remove the dildo. She held it up in front of Renata’s eyes, examined it for a moment, and brought it to her mouth. She sucked it from base to tip, unhurriedly, like someone tasting a dessert she’d been waiting for a long time. Renata watched her do it with a mixture of fascination and shame.

—Nothing is worth more than this —Beatriz said, setting the toy on the desk—. What you just gave me.

Then she straightened and began unbuttoning her blazer. She did it with the same calm with which she had done everything else. The white shirt fell over the back of the chair. The straight skirt, the shoes, the stockings. Finally, the bone-colored underwear. Renata watched her undress without moving, still seated on the edge of the desk.

Beatriz’s body bore the marks of age, but also a density Renata had not imagined. Her breasts were smaller than her clothes suggested, with dark nipples. Her waist was defined. Her hips were wide. A few stretch marks on her thighs. Renata thought, with surprise, that this woman was much more desirable to her like this, without the armor of the suit.

Beatriz went back to the bag and took out something else. A leather harness with an even larger dildo than the previous one, darker and with a matte finish. She adjusted it around her hips with the practiced ease of someone who had done it many times before.

—Get down from the desk —she told Renata—. I want you to come over here.

Renata got down. She walked the few steps separating her from Beatriz, barefoot on the carpet. The dean sat in her chair and gestured with her chin. Renata understood.

She sat astride her, her knees resting on the leather of the seat. The tip of the toy found its own way. Renata lowered herself slowly, letting the silicone open her up, her arms tangled around Beatriz’s neck. The dean bit her shoulder.

—Move.

Renata started moving. Small dips at first, then wider ones, then with all the weight of her body. The chair creaked with every thrust. Beatriz dug her fingers into her ass, setting the rhythm, forcing her down harder each time. Renata hid her face in the woman’s neck and bit the salty, warm skin.

—I want to see your face —Beatriz said, taking hold of her chin—. I want to see what I do to you.

Renata lifted her gaze. They stayed like that for long minutes, forehead to forehead, looking at each other while one entered the other. Renata thought she had never done it while looking so much at anyone.

***

—Stand up —Beatriz said after a while—. Put your hands on the desk.

Renata obeyed. She walked to the desk, spread her feet, and leaned forward until her palms touched the wood. She felt Beatriz position herself behind her. One hand circled her stomach. The other landed a sharp slap on her left ass cheek, hard enough to leave her skin burning.

—This is part of it too —the dean said, almost in a whisper.

She entered her again, this time from behind. Renata lowered her forehead until it rested on the cold wood. The thrusts were more rhythmic, more forceful, and each one was followed by another slap in a different place on her buttocks. Renata felt the burning mix with everything else and, at some point, become indistinguishable from pleasure.

—Touch yourself —Beatriz ordered—. While I fuck you, I want you to touch yourself.

Renata slid her right hand beneath her body and found herself. She found her own clitoris with two fingers and began rubbing it in small circles. The double sensation —the silicone pushing, her fingers above— made her moan louder. Beatriz sped up her thrusts. Skin struck skin. The chair rolled a few centimeters with each push.

The second orgasm was different from the first: longer, deeper, slower to arrive and slower to fade. When it ended, Renata remained pressed against the wood, out of breath, sweat dripping between her shoulders.

Beatriz came out of her carefully and kissed the back of her neck, almost tenderly. Then she unfastened the harness and left it on the desk, on top of the papers no one had looked at again in the past hour.

—Get dressed —she said, her voice calm again—. Take your time.

Renata dressed slowly, still a little dizzy. Beatriz did the same, at her own pace, without speaking. When they were both presentable again, Renata walked to the door. Before opening it, she turned her head.

—And if I fight with someone again? —she asked, smiling in a way she could barely disguise.

Beatriz, seated once more in her chair, lifted her eyes only slightly.

—Then you’ll come back to this office. And the door will be locked again.

Renata opened it, stepped out into the hallway, and closed it quietly behind her. As she went down the stairs, she decided she was going to find reasons. Lots of reasons. All the reasons necessary.