Cat awkwardly attempted to hold up the triangles of her halter top. She had no idea how the dean had unfastened it, but it was impossible to reattach. There wasn’t enough fabric to tie it in place. He dragged her across campus in the freezing winter air, wearing nothing but a broken, golden dress. She felt ashamed of herself. If only her parents could see her now. Why had she even thought about letting August kiss her while they were inside?! Stupid, stupid! Eyes were everywhere, but especially under the twinkly romantic lights of a Holiday Gala.

They arrived at Temple Hall and Cat wanted to stop, dig her heels into the ground, refuse to take another step towards the towering mansion.

“Sir?!” Cat pleaded as he opened the heavy doors like they were weightless. She knew they most definitely were not.

“Catherine,” he began as they continued to walk up the stairs, “there is a rumor that I have a secret room within my living quarters that is referred to as ‘the attic’. Well, Catherine, I do regret to inform you that this place does indeed exist. It is more of a, shall we say, room for scholars who… need a time out.”

Time out?! What the fuck was a time out?! They arrived on the third floor and Cat whimpered as the doors to the study opened wide and the dean dragged her like a doll along behind him. He went to the bookcase where he had sent Max upstairs the day of Cat’s examination. She pulled against him as he tugged at the book on the shelf that would open the door and it slowly slid upwards into the ceiling.

They climbed up a flight of stairs. Then a narrower flight of stairs. Then the dean slipped a lock into a large oak door which opened up to a spectacular living room. There was a giant picture window overlooking the lake. A roaring fireplace on the opposite side of the window. A beautiful, plush, Oriental rug spread out covering the floor of the entire room. Gorgeous and overstuffed leather sofas and armchairs. This wasn’t frightening at all, this was beautiful. The dean coughed as he stood at the bottom of an spiral staircase, made of iron, leading up to a door in the ceiling.

“Let’s go, Catherine,” he said, “after you.”

How was she going to climb the staircase with her dress like this?! As if reading her mind, as she took the first step, he ripped it off her torso from the hem at her feet. He threw the heap of glittery fabric to the floor and she thought she might just throw her naked self from the staircase once she got to the top.

Instead, the dean came up close behind her. Squeezed her naked body against his and the iron cage of the staircase, slipped a key into another lock, and the trap door in the ceiling popped open. Cat’s heart seized with dread. What the fuck.

”After you,” the dean said, caging her between the entry of her prison and completely blocking her escape. She stepped up the final steps on the stairs and walked into a tiny, windowless, steepled room. Next to the trap door was a metal framed bed. The room was freezing. Her skin, nipples, hair follicles, all pebbled in the winter attic air. It really was an attic. She couldn’t believe the rumor was actually true. She tried to think of what girls said happened here. She had never heard of what happened in the attic. She was sure Max had probably been here at some point - Cat did go up the same mysterious bookshelf staircase that Max had disappeared in the time Cat was examined. Oh god. Was she going to be examined?!

“Catherine, you…” the dean had a look in his eyes that Cat couldn’t decipher. It frightened her, but she also felt weirdly - so wrongly - drawn to it, too. “That dress! Why?! What were your intentions with August Rogers tonight!” He barked it out at her like a command and she recoiled from the outburst.

“Sir! I didn’t even know he’d be there!” Cat cried. It was true. She would have figured he would have gone back to the White House by now. She would certainly rather be there than here. She would literally rather be anywhere else right now.

“You kissed him,” the dean sneered, grabbing her chin tightly in his grasp, pulling her face close to his. So close, Cat widened her eyes in alarm as she thought for a moment that he might actually kiss her. He shoved her backwards, the force knocking her off her feet, back flat on the metal bed behind her. It didn’t offer any cushion. She grunted as her body took the impact of the throw and loudly gasped as the dean grabbed both of her ankles in his hands.

“Insolent scholars,” he yanked her feet towards the end of the bed. Grabbed a belt or a rope or something and… She couldn’t move away fast enough before he lassoed the tie around her ankle and pulled tight. Securing it to one corner of the bed.

”Get sent to the attic…” he continued, grabbing her other foot and securing it to the post at the other edge of the bed. She tested her own strength against the bonds. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“Sir?!” She pleaded. He came around the side of the bed and grabbed one arm, secured it above her head. She begged again, terrified what his might action might be after he’d tied her to the bed. In the attic. In his living room. THIS was the punishment for kissing a boy?! She’d start kissing Max if it wouldn’t land her here. Actually, that would probably send them both to the All Saints tunnels.

Cat remained completely motionless as the dean ran a lecherous hand up the entire length of her naked body, furtively slipping his fingers between the top of her thighs, and pinching her nipples extra hard. No way that wasn’t completely intentional. She shuddered. It was impossible for the dean not to notice. He grasped her throat tightly in his hand, squeezed.

Cat became utterly terrified as she lost the ability to breathe and he leaned so, so close to her face again and spat, “I need to figure out what to do with you.” Let go of her neck. Cat took a deep, gasping breath. The dean threw a blanket haphazardly over her naked body, turned, and disappeared down the trap door. Cat heard a lock click behind him. She stared up at the steeped ceiling above her and shivered.

::::

She awoke to a gentle petting at her lower belly. A flutter just above the apex of her thighs. August Rogers’ impossibly blue eyes. Her eyes snapped open and she shrieked as she looked up at the dean standing above her. Expectantly? Like he had been watching her sleep. Or something.

“Catherine,” he smiled warmly. She writhed in her restraints. She was freezing. The dream had made her forget that. Maybe she could go back to that dream later.

“Sir.” She needed to pee. Bad.

”I’ve decided to let you celebrate Christmas, Catherine,” he stated, almost proudly, like she should be delighted to receive this news. She wanted to spit in his face.

“It’s only the 21st, sir,” she pointed out.

“Yes, so I will let you go back home on Christmas Eve, Catherine,” he said, as if she was dumb. Three days?! He was going to keep her like this for THREE days?!

“Sir?”

“I’ll attend to your needs, throughout the day,” he said as he pulled out something from the foot of the bed. Set it on the mattress between her legs.

“Sir, I really need to… can I go to the bathroom?”

“Patience, I’m getting it ready,” he said in a soothing voice as he continued to do something at the end of the bed. What the hell was he planning to do? Why couldn’t she just go use the toilet quick? Oh god, was he going to make her go in a bedpan?!

”This will be a bit uncomfortable,” he came around to her side, stood at her legs and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her hip. She would have moved away to the side if she’d been able to move. Had he tightened the straps at her legs?! She hadn’t remembered feeling like she had this little wiggle room when he had left her here last night.

“Please, sir, please…” her voice caught in her throat as he leaned over her naked middle and she watched his hand move towards the middle of her legs. “No, sir, please…!”

She wanted to burst into tears as he touched her between her legs. Poked, pulled, prodded, spread the skin apart. She shivered involuntarily. It was SO cold without the blanket covering her. She desperately wanted to move away from his touch.

“Sir, what are you…” she watched as he reached to retrieve something, pulled at the skin between her legs a bit tighter, and she felt a stinging sensation as something slid inside(?!) of her. “Sir!”

He shushed her, not unkindly, as the catheter hit its destination and began to drain Cat’s bladder for her.

“You know, Catherine,” the dean said thoughtfully as he stood up, “I like you.”

He had a funny way of showing it, for sure. She sneered in reply. His eyes flared dangerously.

“Normally I make insolent scholars wait for me to relieve themselves. I might just leave this one inserted so you don’t have to experience the discomfort of having it removed and re-inserted later.”

Oh. She was PLENTY uncomfortable at the moment. She couldn’t comprehend how THIS was the easier solution compared to just unbinding her and letting her go downstairs to the use the toilet. Other than the fact that she might run away. She was seriously starting to consider it.

“I have a phone call to take,” the dean said as he started moving back in the direction of the trap door.

“Wait!” She shrieked. She was still naked. The room couldn’t have been any warmer than 60 degrees.

“What is it, Catherine?”

“Sir, it’s freezing. Can I have my blanket back?”

He looked at the cover on the floor, shrugged, and threw it at Cat. It landed awkwardly on top of the middle of her body. He opened the trap door and disappeared down the stairs. How was she supposed to cover herself with her wrists and ankles tied to the bed?!?

She lay in silence, staring at the steepled ceiling above her. She desperately wanted to pull at the faint tugging sensation that was irritating her between the legs. She desperately wanted to fully cover herself with the blanket. She had no idea how she was going to come back to herself from this experience. For kissing a boy?!? Why?!??

Her thoughts stilled as she realized she could hear the voice of the dean from somewhere below her. He sounded upset. No, furious. His voice would rise to a terrifyingly loud climax and then hush back down again, undoubtedly making a threat to whoever the poor soul was on the other end of the line.

She heard several variations of, “HAD A DEAL” echo through the floor. If there was one thing that she wanted to know nothing about were the sorts of “deals” the dean might make with another person. The dean was amenable to negotiation?!

The vague tirade continued. She heard a loud “VIRGINITY” shouted once or twice. Followed by a ‘MINE”. Several times.

Her heart beat faster as she began to piece together the angry side of the dean’s conversation. He was clearly furious. About some deal he had about virginity. Her virginity?! He apparently felt like he had a claim on something, but what? Surely… she swallowed hard and shivered, not her?!