Page 7 of Teach Me
‘Be honest, Ophelia. Do you feel you’ve had a large orgasm gap in your previous relationships?’
‘I-I am not – that’s not?—’
‘Have you been free to explore your sexual desires with previous partners?’ His voice dipped to a deep rumble. ‘Did they fulfil your needs?’
‘I-I don’t…’ My stuttering elicited another of his secretive smiles. ‘My sex life is fine,’ I snapped, no doubt revealing myself as a liar. ‘It’s just common knowledge that men are more likely to have and act out on sexually deviant fantasies. If women display similar behaviour, it’s usually rooted in trauma.’
‘But are you so sure women can’t enjoy such acts without adverse childhood experiences that you’re willing to dismiss a large demographic? Don’t you see the limitations with your research?’
Deep down, I knew he was right. It was wrong of me to dismiss female participants, but I honestly couldn’t think of any woman who would willingly admit to enjoying degradation. I wouldn’t even admit to reading books that explored such kinks.
Dr Braithwaite pushed off his desk. ‘Ophelia…’ He grasped my chin, lifting my gaze to his. ‘You appear to have decided that respect, consent, and trust cannot be a part of degradation. Isn’t giving someone what they want and doing so in a safe environment one of the most caring acts you can do?’
I looked between his face and his hand, momentarily so stunned by his move that I couldn’t speak. He always kept a respectable distance, but now I was overwhelmed by his warmth and scent. And he smelt so damn good – a subtle blend of cedar and spice I couldn’t stop breathing in.
‘You’ve dismissed consensual power exchanges, the care-giving role of Dominants, and that there are women – and men – who enjoy degradation, even humiliation and pain. It does not correlate with early exposure to hardcore pornography.’ His voice dropped to a low, husky tone. ‘You’ve also confused BDSM with abuse, and that’s a misconception I cannot allow.’
‘Allow?’
‘Someone has neglected your needs, perhaps even shamed you for?—’
‘I don’t have past trauma.’
‘Whoever it was,’ he continued, ‘it’s a reflection of them, not BDSM. People in the scene know the female body is uniquely created for a level of pleasure unachievable for men. Only women can experience multiple types of orgasm, some lasting as long as an hour?—’
‘An hour?’ I whispered.
‘Mhmm.’ The corner of his mouth curved into a devious smile. ‘You’ve also ignored the declassification of sadomasochism as a mental disorder, a curious oversight by someone who wants to be a clinical sexologist.’
‘I…’ I swallowed hard. ‘I turned down that offer to study abnormal psychology.’
‘You still found a way to study sexuality, proving my point that this runs deeper than you want to admit. It’s an itch you can’t help but scratch.’ Dark amusement glittered in his eyes. ‘You’re the first student in ten years to surprise me with your research question. But I’m disappointed in your lack of self-reflection. Your hypothesis is based on an opinion you’ve formed because of a bad experience caused by someone who didn’t know what they were doing.’
‘Pornographyhasnegatively influenced male sexuality.’ I gestured. ‘Joshua called me a slut earlier.’
He leaned in. ‘What else did you expect from a boy his age?’ His heated gaze flicked between my eyes and my mouth. ‘Even Freud, whom you like to quote so often, struggled to understand female sexuality.’
I pulled in my bottom lip and moistened it. If he kissed me now, I would agree to any change he demanded for my dissertation. But he wouldn’t kiss me. He was my lecturer. There were rules, and I scrambled for an argument to distract myself from the temptation of crossing that line.
‘My focus is on hardcore pornography, of which men are the largest consumers. I don’t have a hypothesis if I include women, and I won’t get data on female sexual deviancy if I can’t find participants.’
His fingertips travelled along my jawline before sweeping across my cheek, a light caress to brush away a strand of my hair.My breath hitched as his touch sent goosebumps rushing down my arms.
‘Would you like a challenge, Ophelia?’ he murmured as he traced the shell of my ear.
‘A-a challenge?’
‘I believe if a woman is under the right man’s control, in the right environment, she can embrace all aspects of her sexuality.’
‘All aspects?’
‘She can become the deviant you deny exists, and I’m willing to prove it to you with an in vivo experiment.’
‘H-how?’ My voice trembled as his fingertips travelled down the side of my neck, sending a shock to my core. ‘In vivo?’ A few working brain cells sought the meaning. ‘Is this about visiting a BDSM club? I’ve told you I’m not interested in that scene.’
‘I believe you are, but you’re unwilling to admit it. Give me a month, after which you’ll have no problem finding the right participants for your dissertation.’ He planted his hands on the table on either side of me, boxing me in. ‘Because you’ll be in your own pilot study.’
‘What do you mean?’
