Sensitivity Training

ch 5 sensitivity train jan 16 2019

Sensitivity Training

Chapter 5

By avenger-nerd-mom & devikafernando

AU Fan Fiction

In the sequel to Educating Thalia, the lovely Thalia Bareo is trying to grow up, making her own way in the world after losing both men she loved, Professors Chris Evans and Tom Hiddleston. The sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago holds down a job as she tries to deal with the real world. She continues her studies and freelances as a consultant for museums around the world. Being Thalia updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Warning: As a whole, this work contains adult content. If you proceed you have agreed that you are willing to see such content. Each chapter will not be coded with individual warnings. The overall story contains no hidden triggers.

If you are new to the series and characters, click here to the beginning of Educating Thalia.

If you are looking for other stories in the sequel, click here for the beginning of Being Thalia

Summary: The faculty is required to attend training on harassment and how to have proper relations with students and co-workers.

Previous Chapter, Strong Shoulders

Word Count 1999

2019, Spring Semester

Involuntarily, his lips tilt up into a smile as she enters the room. Her new best pal, Professor Chris Hemsworth, right on her heels. They’re laughing at something he’s showing her on his phone. She doesn’t even turn towards him, but he watches her cheeks turn a light shade of pink, highlighting her freckles. She knows he’s watching. Looking around the faculty office, everyone is catching up with others, talking about their Spring vacations. Professor Evans scowls at the new TA attempting to make googly eyes towards Thalia. The younger man nervously drops his folder, papers scattering everywhere. Chris covers his mouth, hiding his chuckle. Pulling his glasses from his pocket, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, pretending to read the packet on appropriate interactions with students. Instead, his focus is his new roommate.

Hemsworth detaches himself, and moves to the table with coffee and snacks. Thalia sits, stretching her thick legs out and leans back in her chair, beginning to talk quietly to another faculty member. Her hair hangs down her back, nearly long enough to sit on when she straightens it, as she has been of late. Chris’s fingers itch, wishing to reach out and run them through her silky tresses. His stomach tightens, remembering how his fingers always tangled in her curls, wondering what it would feel like to truly brush his hands through her hair now. He exhales audibly and shifts in his seat, attracting the attention of the woman next to him. Offering her a crooked smile, he resumes his reading. After a moment, he returns his gaze to Thalia. Her clothes hug her round figure, the leather jacket pulled tight and buttoned over her plump belly. She’s laughing animatedly, reaching for the coffee Hemsworth offers her, but turns away the donut. The blond oaf shoves a big bite in his mouth and takes an empty chair in the row in front of her.

He really hates that guy. How is Norse Mythology even a real study? It’s exactly that. Myths. No proof.

Chris focuses his gaze on Thalia again. As usual, the present blends with the past whenever she’s around. He remembers every inch of her olive toned skin, her flesh pliable under his fingers. The way she would arch into him, goosebumps rising, her breath echoing between them… The way she would hold him tight as they rode out their orgasms together and then she would-

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” Professor Joanna Kent announces. “Thank you all for taking the time to attend this training on appropriate workplace behaviors-”

“We’re timing you, Joanna. Think of it as a TED Talk. You’ve got eighteen minutes,” a voice calls out from the back and the staff laugh.

“Fine. That’s easy.” The woman leans over to switch on the large screen. Somehow in her movements, her overly sweet cologne wafts across, tickling his nose and he sneezes twice. Having trouble, she mumbles under her breath about hating technology. “Ok, fine. While this powers up,” she hands a clipboard to the faculty member closest to her, “everyone has to sign in to document for the university you’ve attended this sensitivity training.”

She continues to fiddle with the computer cords and a low buzz rises in the room as everyone begins chatting again. Chris’s phone vibrates, and he reaches in his coat pocket to pull it out. He laughs, reading the text.

Kent’s perfume has been known to cause allergy attacks. Don’t get too close. You’ll be sneezing all week.

Looking up, his eyes lock on Thalia’s. She smirks. Bowing his head, he quickly types out his reply.

Thanks for the warning. Not that I planned to get too close to her.

Moments later, her reply appears.

I’m told she’s a witty conversationalist at dinner, but horror of horrors! She orders fruit salad as dessert.

Feeling her watching him, he shoots back a pithy comment.

Proof she’s not human. Everyone knows to get cheesecake, or ice cream. She’s obviously an alien.

He smiles when he hears her bark of laughter across the noisy room, but looks up as the den falls silent moments later.

On the projector screen behind Professor Kent’s head, in bold hot pink type are the words ‘Don’t Have Sex with Students.’

“TED Talk over,” says the deep voice.

Papers rustle and sounds of the faculty shifting nervously in their chairs quickly turns to a quiet rumble.

“Yeah, we seriously have to have an inservice on this?”

“We’re not creepy pervs.”

“Ridiculous, they’re just kids.”

“We have to be told this?”

He bites his tongue from laughing at the text when his phone vibrates again.

Hi, creepy perv

STOP!” Kent’s voice echoes, nodding. “There are rumors and complaints being investigated, in several departments across campus. Everyone is receiving this training, to be aware of signs to look for and be aware of, and these comments could fall under harassment, so behave yourselves, and let’s follow the guide passed out by the Head Dean, shall we?”

She clears her voice and launches into her prepared presentation. He shakes his head, not being able to look at Thalia. Honestly, he can’t help but wonder if old allegations could arise? Months after she graduated and moved to Paris, it had been rumored there were inappropriate relations in the history department. He was surprised a finger was never pointed at her, and had walked on eggshells for weeks, relieved she was another continent away and safe from the gossip mill.

He vaguely listens as Kent outlines reasons, such as abuse of authority, ‘corrosive of the educational experience,’ and sexualizing the workplace, but then his damn twisted sense of humor gets the best of him.

It was educational, right?

He looks around the room, waiting for her response. Everyone is reading their packet, staring out the window, making no eye contact with anyone out of fear, or embarrassment. Except one person. Her eyes are sparkling, and he knows it’s on.

Very educational. Learned a lot. Lots of practice helped, private tutoring, hands on…

Chris closes his mind, shutting out the memory he hadn’t been the only one educating Thalia. His fingers fly across the screen, sending his next message.

One sign should have been underwear behind the couch in my office. The cleaning crew needs this training too.

Moments pass as Kent’s shrill voice drones on.

Don’t forget condoms in trash cans. And underwear wouldn’t have been behind the couch if you weren’t always taking them from me, and flinging them like a slingshot

He licks his lips, and types his reply.

Underwear under short plaid skirts is all wrong. If you’d watch porn, you’d know that

He nearly chokes at the return comment.

Who said I don’t watch porn?

Fuckin’ hell, the new, older Thalia is almost too much sass. The image of her laying on her bed- the bed in the guest room, in the basement of his house, where she’s been staying since her apartment fire in January- fingering herself to whatever she gets off on is almost too much for him. He shifts in his seat. He quickly opens a locked file on his phone, eyeing right and left to make sure no one is watching him, and he sends a picture back to her.

It’s one he keeps. She’s bent over a display in the library, late at night, working on a project, in a short plaid skirt. The lacy underwear fits snug against her ass, the elastic bunched up and tucked in between her folds on one side. They’d gone back to his office, and fucked like the building was on fire, and he’d teased her for wearing underwear.

That’s what you get off to when you’re all alone?

Chris fumbles with his phone, nearly dropping it when an image fills his screen. His hand wrapped around his cock, in a black and white image he vaguely remembers sending her years before.

This works for me.

His mouth drops open and he nervously inhales. Works. Present tense. As if she still admires the photo, after all this time and all that’s passed between them.

Doesn’t matter nowas if she can read his mind- you’ve got a girlfriend

Chris swallows, feeling his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. Flexing his fingers, it’s almost like they’re thinking about what to type next.

Not anymore. She left. While you were in Puerto Rico on Spring Break.

Waiting a beat, he wonders what she’ll say next.

Sorry. Probably my fault. Break up pig out? Pizza and ice cream tonight?

He scoffs, shaking his head. Closing his eyes, he says a silent prayer.

No pig out necessary. Wasn’t meant to be. Don’t you have plans with the Ken doll?

Holding his breath, he waits for the reply. He watches her eyes gaze at the back of Hemsworth’s head before dropping to her lap, tapping away on her phone.

No plans I can’t change. I told you, we’re just friends. He’s got a date later. Some chick in the science department.

Heart pounding, he can actually feel little beads of sweat forming on his upper lip, hidden by his beard. He’s out of practice, but he’s pretty sure she’s flirting, baiting him. Deciding to pull the line, he types quickly. Got a plaid skirt?

He hears her voice chirp across the room. He looks up, but her face is hidden behind her hair. Chris really wants nothing more than to meet her back at home and fall into bed with her, picking up where they left things off, as if no time had passed.

You aren’t paying attention. Now we’re getting lectured on not dating coworkers.

Looking up to the screen behind Professor Kent, she’s showing a training video about professional behaviors in the workplace among colleagues. The room titters with laughter when the character on screen is identified as “Thalia” and she’s receiving unwanted emails from a male coworker, lewdly complimenting her clothing.

“Gawd, I hate those emails. Stop sending them,” she jokes and the room laughs, lighter from her influence. “I can’t help I’m so good looking,” she laughs, dropping her head back down to look at the packet in her lap.

“I’m from Australia. I didn’t know any better,” Hemsworth adds, turning around and patting her thigh as the mood in the room shifts.

Chris focuses on the lecture, feeling slightly dejected. He doesn’t know what he thought, now feeling foolish for thinking Thalia would run back to him.

Not really dating if I’m living in your basement and we never go out? Probably another training on that, perv. After this meeting, I have my three o’clock class. Don’t have plaid skirts anymore, but I can make mean margaritas. Grilled steaks and fajitas on the back patio?

***

Thalia’s eyes flutter open, blinking slowly. She pulls her hair from under her shoulder, fanning it out over the pillow. The light filtering through the windows is sunny and bright, a pleasant change. Stretching deliciously, she can’t hide the smile on her face. Biting her lip, she feels her cheeks warming. With another stretch, she arches her back off the bed, the comforter falling from her hip. Her head still buzzes from the tequila the night before, and her body aches in ways long forgotten. Rolling to her side, she throws her arm over her bed mate, tracing her fingers over his tattooed shoulder. Sense memory responds, her fingers remembering every bump and blemish of the marking on his beautiful skin. Just like he’d shown her last night that he remembers every single thing that makes her breath stutter and her body shudder. When they came together–twice, she recalls with a decadent little shiver–it was as if he broke her, then put her back together. Not the way she was before everything came crashing down around her, but almost.

And that’s good enough for now.

Moving closer, pressing her body to his, Thalia whispers huskily in his ear, “You still owe me number Three.”

Click for Chapter 6, Warpath

Copyright © 2019  avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

Naughty Girl

et ch 5

Educating Thalia: Chapter 5

Collaboration by @devikafernando & @avenger-nerd-mom

AU FICTION

@devikafernando and @avenger-nerd-mom are presenting a collaboration together involving Professor Hiddleston and Professor Evans! The two are rivals at a posh New England university and have no idea they both have taken interest in the lovely Thalia Bareo. She’s a grad student with interests in language and history; a sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago

Click here for the novella, Educating Thalia

Word count: 2415

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, NSFW, Dom Tom, spanking, oral sex, fingering, edging, denied orgasm

Summary:  Professor Tom calls Thalia into his office to punish her for her behavior in class

Tom paces like a caged tiger in his office, waiting for the endless ten minutes to pass. When he hears a knock on the door, he dashes behind his desk and sits down, telling himself he needs to retain at least a pretense at control.

“Come in.”

Thalia enters, looking not the least bit remorseful.

“Lock the door,” he orders quietly and sees her eyes widen and darken.

She does as told, then walks to his desk and rests a hand on her broad hip.

“You wanted to see me, Tom?”

He grips the desk hard to keep himself from either snarling at her or kissing her senseless. How about both?

It rubs him the wrong way that she calls him Tom in this situation, but it goes with the defiant lift of her chin and hand on her hip. Why is that a turn-on when he should be mad at her?

Tom swallows, but he can barely keep it together.

“Why are you wearing this?” he barks, gesturing harshly towards her skimpy plaid skirt and the rest of her ball-busting outfit.

Thalia opens her eyes wide, long lashes fluttering.

“Um, why do I wear clothes? Would you rather I came to class naked?”

Despite his emotional state, he can’t help chuckle at that, and her answering grin is way too sexy.

“Naked is always better.” He leans forward, long fingers rubbing his jaw. “In fact, if I could have a say in things, I’d lock you up in a luxury suite and have you spend a whole day parading around in front of me in your birthday suit. Now that would be a sight to behold, don’t you think, darling?”

A flush creeps up her neck, and Thalia sucks in a breath.

Pleased that he’s slowly getting the upper hand again, Tom leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. He has ditched the jacket, wearing only a ratty grey V-neck T-shirt, and he sees her gaze admire the way it stretches across his biceps.

He hasn’t told her to sit down, and he isn’t planning to do so any time soon.

“You know what I mean,” he admonished. “Why the hell did you choose this outfit and let all those wankers ogle you? Didn’t I make myself clear that you’re mine?”

His voices drops into a lower register at the last word, practically growling ‘mine’ because she makes him feel so possessive.

He notices the effect those words have on her, but her defiant expression slips only momentarily. She steps closer and plants her hands on the desk, giving him a view of her cleavage that has him choke back a groan.

“I don’t belong to anyone, Tom. Not in that way.”

He hauls in a deep breath through flaring nostrils, her orchid scent hardening his cock even more.

Fixing her in a stern glare through his glasses, he struggles desperately to keep control. There’s a tiny hint of anger in her voice, which makes him wonder whether he’s gone too far.

“I didn’t mean it like that. But you’ve never been a flirt,” he tries to reason with her. “Why now?”

Thalia straightens up and rolls her eyes, and he’s ever so tempted to put her over his lap and spank her for the rude gesture.

“I swear, Professor Hiddleston, sometimes you’re a bit slow to catch on,” she mutters, and he’s out of his chair and by her side in a flash.

Gripping her chin firmly but not painfully, he jerks her head up and leans so close she can feel his breath on her face.

“Careful, young lady. Have you forgotten who’s made you scream so beautifully and come all over the place?”

Her throat works, and her pupils dilate, but she stands her ground.

“I haven’t forgotten a thing,” she says after a moment, and this time her voice is laced with anger and something else he can’t quite put his finger on. Hurt? Disappointment?

“But it seems you’ve chosen to forget I even exist.” The words come out in a rush, almost as if she’d rather keep them in.

She yanks her chin out of his grip and takes a step back, but Tom follows and cages her in against the desk, like a wild cat stalking his prey.

“What do you mean?” he half-growls, knowing full well what she’s talking about but needing her to admit it.

She makes a frustrated sound and folds her arms over her ample bosom.

“I wore this outfit for you today, believe it or not.” She scoffs, but her eyes tell a different story. “Because I couldn’t stand you ignoring me. I wanted to make you see what you could have if you’d just own up to it.”

Tom’s eyebrows rise before he scowls. He grabs her arms and pulls her into him, gratified when she lets him hug her without any resistance.

“Darling, you have no idea how difficult it was to behave like that, to create a distance between us?  Believe me, if I could, I’d be all over you, all the time. I’d make you wish I would ignore you so you could have a moment to breathe. But we can’t. Surely you understand that.”

He tightens his hold on her, content for a moment to simply embrace her and feel her curves against his hardness. Tugging on her braid, he leans her head back a fraction to gaze into her troubled eyes.

“You want me to own up? Really? And that would get us where exactly? Hm?”

After a moment, she lowers her eyes and sighs. “I know, I just…”

“I understand,” he whispers and rubs her back in a soothing caress.

When he steps away and takes her hands in his, she stares at him full of expectations, and the look in her eyes nearly slays him. God, how he wishes things were different between them, although it’s also a thrill to have this forbidden edge to what they’re doing.

“Never doubt that I want you,” he tells her sincerely. “You’re on my mind all the time, and I want to curse you for the power you wield over me.”

He cups her face, pleased when she leans her cheek into his touch. “Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind,” he quotes from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream—then wishes he didn’t say it because he’s dropped the l-bomb and it’s totally inappropriate for whatever magical connection they’re sharing.

But as so often, Thalia seems to get what he’s trying to convey.

“Then show me how much you want me,” she says, a husky demand that makes his cock twitch.

Tom rubs his thumb over her lower lip and tugs it down a little. He dips it in further, brushes it over her teeth and the tip of her tongue and watches her eyes grow dark and shiny.

“You want me to show you?”

She nods eagerly, then recalls his earlier instructions and pleads, “Yes, please.”

Jesus, this woman is his undoing.

Tom steps back so abruptly she sways towards him before she catches herself.

“Turn around,” he commands, fighting hard to keep the upper hand, although he wants nothing more than to make her his again and become hers in the process.

“Bend over, arms on the desk, ass in the air.”

Thalia shivers but does as he says. Her position makes her look deliciously compromised, the short skirt baring a flash of red panties.

With a start, Tom realizes that the black tights are gone and he’s been much too preoccupied to notice it earlier. A smirk curls his thin lips.

“You really are a naughty girl.” he says softly, watching her shift and squirm a little. “Couldn’t wait to prance into my office and try your hand at seduction, could you? Are you dying to have my hands on your legs? Or maybe my mouth in between them?”

The only answer he gets is a suppressed whimper, so soft that he almost misses it.

He runs the tips of his fingers over her now bare thigh, first on the outside and then on the inside, almost touching her pantyline.

Thalia shivers. He repeats the teasing movement, letting his nails gently rake over her skin this time.

“Answer me. Are you a naughty girl?”

He can hear her breathing harder. For a moment, she remains silent. Then she replies in a half-defiant, half-needy voice, “Yes. I’ve been naughty…sir.”

Licking his lips, Tom takes a step closer.

“And you know what happens to naughty girls, right?”

Another pause. Will his smart Thalia get what he’s waiting for?

“They…they get punished?”

It comes out sounding like a question, but it’s a huge turn-on nevertheless.

“That’s right,” he whispers darkly.

Carefully controlling himself, Tom leans forward and drapes his body over hers. He pushes his hips up against her, rubbing his bulge against her peachy cheeks. Both of them hiss at the tantalizing friction.

He grabs her braid and pulls her head up and back for a kiss that is passionate and demanding. Biting her lip almost hard enough to cause her pain, he withdraws. After gliding his fingers through her hair and over her nape, using his nails again to awaken goose bumps on her sensitive skin, he pushes her head down so it rests on one forearm.

“Stay exactly like this. I don’t want to hear a sound from you, is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispers, her lips pressed against her own arm.

Fuck, how is he supposed to keep his wits around her?

Breathing in deeply a few times, he moves away enough to lift her skirt above her ass. He licks his lips at the sight of the gorgeous globes he grabbed so greedily a few days ago. Softly, he brushes his fingertips over the fire-engine-colored material of her panties, then rubs against the seams so he’s barely touching her naked flesh.

“Not a sound,” he repeats his warning, and he can feel her tense, the muscles in her thighs and butt clenching invitingly.

Lifting his arm, he lands a resounding smack on one ass cheek, causing her to rear up with a startled squeaky gasp.

Tom makes a tutting sound and pushes her back down, gently but firmly.

“Not a single sound, Thalia. This is your punishment for being so naughty and making the lecture hell for me to live through.”

He rubs his hand soothingly over the redness of the slapped cheek, although he hasn’t hit her hard enough to leave finger marks.

Waiting until she looks less tense, he lands a slightly harder blow on the other cheek, and this time he can see her bite her forearm to muffle her sound of unwilling arousal.

Oh yes, she’s taking this well. It makes him consider a true spanking, but he reins in his thoughts before his libido will get the better of him.

“And this is punishment for making me have to endure thoughts of you dressed like this for the rest of the day.”

Before she has time to recover, he lands two quick slaps on each ass cheek, grinding out through clenched teeth, “And these are for making it a plaid skirt and knowing damn fucking well what it would do to me.”

Thalia moans softly when he soothes the sting, and he shushes her before squatting down.

“And this,” he says in a gravelly voice before sucking her inner thigh hard enough to leave a mark, “is to show you how much I want you.”

Without warning, he licks her from behind, his tongue gliding over her damp panties.

Thalia bucks against him but keeps quiet, so he gives her another stroke of his tongue over her lace-clad folds. He uses his hands to spread her thighs before nudging the now drenched fabric aside with two fingers.

Leaning in, he blows air onto her wet pussy, chuckling at her full-body shiver. But he can’t deny himself and her the pleasure any longer.

Tom buries his tongue inside her, licking and probing and thrusting until she’s a writhing mass of muffled desperate sounds and he’s so turned on he feels like exploding.

He lifts a hand to press his finger against her engorged clit, not rubbing or stroking but just adding enough pressure to make her stifled whimpers louder. Gone are all thoughts of keeping her quiet or reprimanding her because he’s lost in her taste and the thrill of the moment. Angling his head, Tom lets his tongue delve in as deep as it can get and fucks her with it until she’s clenching around him.

With an obscenely wet sound, he pulls back and gives her one last thorough lick, leaving her hanging right on the brink of orgasm.

For a moment, Thalia remains like this, and he feasts his eyes on her glistening cunt, contracting desperately on nothing.

“Tom, please,” she whines, raising her head. “Oh God, I’m so close, just… please…”

He stands up and wipes his mouth with the back of a hand, quirking an eyebrow at her pleading expression when she looks at him over her shoulder. He likes it that she’s not really daring to move, although she’s defied his order for silence.

“What’s the matter, darling? Do you need something?” he asks, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Her sound of frustration tempts his resolve, but he steels himself against the urge to please her, knowing that his reward will be glorious later.

“Please, Tom, make me come. I need to… uh, dammit, Tom…”

As if nothing has happened, he brushes her panties into place and tugs her skirt back down, taking extra care to touch her and make matters worse.

“Oh, no, darling, no coming for you just now. You need to be a good girl for me to allow you to climax, and you were far too naughty today.”

He pulls her into a standing position, noticing how weak-kneed and flushed she is. Moving a tendril of hair behind her ear with painful tenderness, he takes her mouth in another passionate kiss so she can taste herself on his tongue.

“Ever heard of delayed gratification, love?” he asks her with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

Thalia stares at him, chest heaving. If looks could kill, he’d be dropping dead right about now.

With a chuckle, he smooths his hands over her clothes and yanks on the skirt’s hem so it covers a fraction more of her thighs.

“Now off you go like an obedient little college girl to attend your lectures.”

He turns her around by her shoulders and steers her towards the door. While he leans over to open the lock, he whispers into her ear, “I’ll text you this evening. Be ready at around 8 to go to the address I’m sending you. I promise, I’ll make the waiting worth it, darling.”

Tom steps away from her and opens the door – only to find one of his colleagues, Professor Evans from the history department, standing there with his fist raised to knock.

Thalia lowers her head, half hiding her face as she walks away quickly.

“Remember to have the details ready by tomorrow,” Tom calls after her, hoping to God his voice sounds normal and that the smell of sex between them isn’t evident in the air.

He turns to his colleague Chris and gives him a polite nod.

“Evans.”

The professor with his scruffy jaw and close-cropped hair quirks an eyebrow at him and smirks.

“Hiddleston. Found someone to do all the work for you, have ya?”

Tom is used to jibes from him, so he lets it slide.

“Thalia is…a very special student of mine,” he says in as neutral a tone as he can manage. “Now, how may I help you?”

Click here for Chapter 6, Just a Girl

Copyright © 2017 avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando