As a female professor and head of my department, I have achieved great success in the academic world. But the truth is, this success has come with its own set of challenges. Being a woman in a male-dominated field, I have had to work twice as hard to earn the respect and recognition that should come naturally with my accomplishments.

But it is not just the challenges within the academic world that weigh on me. It is also the constant struggle against the societal expectations placed on women and of course the Patriarchy. Some have called me busty. I have a nice tan, curly brunette hair and even say so myself a nice figure, I am often objectified and reduced to nothing more than my appearance. As a feminist, this fills me with a deep, burning hatred for the “Alpha man” mentality that perpetuates this objectification.

My son, who is currently in college, has also faced his own challenges. He has been the target of bullies for his perceived lack of masculinity and for standing up against toxic masculinity. It breaks my heart to see him facing the same struggles that I have faced throughout my career. But he is strong and resilient, much like his mother, me, Dr. Cassidy Coleman. My son’s name was Phillip.

So, I continue to fight for equality, both in the academic world and in society at large. And while it may be an uphill battle, I know that my success and my son’s strength are proof that we will not be stopped by the narrow-minded ideals of the “Alpha man or the supposed “Big Dick Energy” they supposedly possess. After all I nearly eradicated the Sorority’s influence from almost every major academic group there was, and made their Presidents look foolish on more than one occasion.

As I walk through the bustling campus, my mind is filled with thoughts of the man who has become my ultimate nemesis – Jerome Kensington, a wealthy blue blood who also happens to be the head of one of the most powerful fraternities on campus. It does not help that his father is THE largest donor to Stanton University. A man whom I clashed with as well. Jerome’s reputation precedes him, and it is not a good one.

I have heard countless stories of how he uses his charm and wealth to manipulate and objectify women, turning them into nothing more than his adle minded little sluts. Being who I am and who I represent this disgusted me to no end. But what truly irks me is that despite this reputation, he still holds such power and influence within the university. Moreover, with just about every woman who crosses his path. It was like watching a lemming go over a cliff one by one female and female, smart woman after smart woman who run into him and turn into his ditzy sycophants.

And it is not just outside of class that Jerome causes trouble. I have had multiple run-ins with him in the academic setting as well. He constantly disrupts class with his rude comments and arrogant behavior. It is clear that, he doesn’t respect me or any other female faculty member.

But what really hit home for me was when I discovered that it was Jerome’s fraternity that was bullying my son. The same organization that promotes toxic masculinity and objectification of women was now targeting my own child. It infuriated me beyond belief.

It became evident to me that Jerome was not only a threat to women but also to anyone who dared to stand up against his entitled ways. And as much as I wanted to act against him, I knew it would be difficult given his position and influence in the university.

But I refuse to let him continue getting away with his misogynistic behavior without consequences. I will do whatever it takes to protect my son and any other students who may fall victim to his toxic masculinity. Because if men like Jerome Kensington are allowed to roam free, true equality will never be achieved. Moreover, my son will never find peace.

That was my thinking anyway. I had worked myself into battle mode when my son came home and wreaked of beer. I found out it was not that he had been drinking but my son was conducting an experiment at the park, he was studying to become a rocket scientist, and evidently the intramural league ultimate frisbee tournament had started and one landed on his setup. Long story short they knocked over his lab, trashed his equipment and all poured their beer cans all over him until his shirt was caked.

Enraged, I marched down to the parking lot where I knew Jerome and his frat brothers were tailgating before the game. Without hesitation, I marched straight up to him and his group of friends, all of whom were taken aback by my sudden appearance.

“You,” I seethed, pointing a finger at Jerome. “You and your fraternity are nothing but a bunch of entitled, misogynistic pigs. You think you can just do whatever you want to women without any consequences?” I then took his beer and threw harshly into his face.

Jerome’s face was one of intense anger as he tried to compose himself. His friends looked on in shock, not knowing what to make of the situation.

“I will not stand by and watch as you and your brothers continue to harass and objectify women,” I continued, my voice shaking with anger. “And now you’ve also targeted my own son. Well, let me tell you something, Jerome. If you or any of your frat brothers ever come near my son again, there will be hell to pay. I will make fucking sure they expel every fucking one of you! I will not press charges this time but next time mister, and I will end you!”

I could see the fear turn into anger in Jerome’s eyes as he realized that I was not someone he could easily manipulate or intimidate. But before anything else could happen, I turned on my heel and marched back to my car.

As I drove away from the parking lot, a small part of me felt satisfied for standing up for what was right. But deep down, I knew that this was just the beginning of my battle against toxic masculinity on campus.

For too long had men like Jerome Kensington been allowed to hold power and influence over others without facing any consequences for their actions. But I refuse to let him continue getting away with it.

From that day on, I made it my mission to redouble my efforts to educate others about toxic masculinity and fight against it wherever it may rear its ugly head on our campus. Because until true equality is achieved, we will always have men like Jerome trying to bring us down. I used him as the catalyst for my resolve for my deeply held beliefs.

I told myself as a mother and a feminist, I will not back down. And neither should anyone else who believes otherwise what example would I be setting.

After my confrontation with Jerome at the tailgate, I was pleasantly surprised to see a noticeable change in his behavior towards my son. The bullying had stopped and even when Jerome’s frat brothers began to start making crude remarks, he would shut them down immediately.

It seemed that my words had actually gotten through to him and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in knowing that I may have helped shape him into a better person, better than his father, another measly lecher.

But it was not just Jerome who appeared to change, but the entire fraternity had started to take notice and become more aware of their actions towards women. They even organized a fundraiser for an organization that raised awareness for feminine mental and physical health and the struggles women faced in accessing them.

I was impressed by their efforts and could not deny feeling a sense of respect towards them. So, when one of the fraternity members approached me with an invitation to dinner at their house, I hesitated at first but ultimately accepted.

As I made my way to the fraternity house, I could not shake off the apprehension that filled me. But as soon as I walked through the doors, any doubts or fears dissipated.

The atmosphere inside was warm and inviting, with decorations and posters promoting female empowerment scattered throughout the common areas. The fraternity members were all dressed formally, looking more like young men ready for a business meeting rather than college students.

They greeted me with genuine warmth and hospitality, making me feel like an honored guest rather than someone they had once targeted with crude remarks and behavior.

As we sat down for dinner, I could not help but be impressed by how mature and well-spoken these young men were. They engaged in thoughtful discussions about gender equality, toxic masculinity, and their role as men in creating a safe and inclusive environment on campus.

It was then that it hit me - these were not just privileged frat boys looking to party. They were individuals who genuinely wanted to make a positive impact in their community.

I left the dinner feeling grateful for the invitation and humbled by the experience. My guard had been lowered. I did not know that I was the prey of a masterful huntsman.

Jermome Kingsonton himself invited me to another dinner shortly after regarding progressive issues on campus. Ones that I particularly was passionate about. It was like he cared about the same things as I did.

As Jerome and I continued to talk and get to know each other at the dinner, I could not help but feel increasingly enamored by him. His handsome features and charming personality had me completely captivated. He was quiet intelligent, and well mannered as well. He took good care of himself and paid particular attention to detail on how he was groomed.

But what really caught my attention were his muscles. As he gestured while speaking, I could not help but notice how defined and cut they were. It was clear that he took care of his body and put in a lot of effort at the gym. He was an Adonis, by the truest sense of the word. He had the softest blue eyes and gaze and when he spoke, he had the perfect basso rumble.

And when he stood up to refill my drink, I could not help but admire how thick and powerful his thighs looked. Granted it had been a long time since I was with someone perhaps too long. It might have been my body sending every hormone it could to get me to not pass up the few opportunities I had to satiate that “itch.”

The thought of him holding me tightly between them sent a shiver down my spine.

I tried to push these thoughts out of my mind, reminding myself of our past interactions and how he used to be just another frat boy who objectified women. But as we continued talking, I realized that he had truly changed for the better.

He was respectful, intelligent, and genuinely passionate about making a positive impact in society. And it was clear that those muscles were not just for show - they were a symbol of his dedication and hard work towards becoming a better person.

As the night went on, I found myself becoming more flushed and wet with every passing moment. I could not deny the intense chemistry between us, and it wasn’t long before Jerome leaned in closer, his breath tickling my ear as he whispered something flirty.

Despite knowing that it was wrong to give into this attraction, I could not resist any longer. As Jerome’s lips met mine, I felt a surge of desire and longing wash over me.

His hands cupped my ass firmly as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth. I moaned against his lips, completely lost in the moment.

But as much as I was enjoying the intensity of our make-out session, a part of me could not help but feel guilty. After everything we had been through and all the times he had objectified women, how could I give in to him like this?

As if sensing my hesitation, Jerome pulled away and looked at me with concern in his eyes. “Is everything okay?” he asked gently.

I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself before responding. “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. “This isn’t right.”

Jerome’s expression softened and he reached out to hold my hand. “I understand if you don’t want to take things further,” he said sincerely. “I just want you to know that I’ve changed, and I would never want to make you feel uncomfortable or objectified.”

His words melted away any remaining doubts in my mind. He had truly changed for the better and it was clear that he genuinely cared about my feelings.

With a newfound confidence, I leaned in once again and pressed my lips against his, kissing him with an intensity that surprised even myself.

Our bodies moved together in a passionate rhythm as Jerome’s hands roamed over my body, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever they touched.

But just as things were starting to heat up between us, Jerome pulled away once again and looked at me with a serious expression on his face.

“We should stop,” he said firmly. “I don’t want you to do something you might regret.”

Part of me wanted to continue, to let go of all my inhibitions and just give into the feeling of lust I felt for him. I went home and had an intense session with my vibrator, a very intense session.

Jerome did not talk to me for a couple of days, and I started to feel self-conscious.

The days went by, and Jerome’s silence only made me more anxious. I could not stop thinking about our heated make-out session and how abruptly it had ended. What had I done wrong? Did he regret kissing me? Was it all just a game to him?

Finally, I could not take it anymore. I mustered up my courage and called Jerome, determined to get some answers.

“Hey,” he answered, sounding surprised but also a bit guarded.

“What’s going on?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Jerome let out a sigh before responding. “I’m sorry for not talking to you these past few days,” he said. “I just ... needed some time to think.”

“About what?” I pressed, my heart pounding in my chest.

“About us,” Jerome said hesitantly. “About whether we should even pursue this.”

My heart dropped at his words. Was he really considering not pursuing things with me because of that one kiss?

“Why not?” I asked, feeling a mix of anger, and hurt bubbling up inside of me.

Jerome was silent for a moment before answering. “I know this might sound shallow,” he began slowly. “But the truth is, you dress way too manly for me.”

I froze, unsure of how to respond to that statement. Sure, I did not always dress in the most feminine clothes, but so what? Why should that matter if we had a connection?

“I’m attracted to you, very attracted, but the way you dress makes me think you are ... cold. I try to look past it, knowing you are professor and must speak this way. But part of me wants the woman behind the pantsuit.” Jerome continued quickly, as if sensing my hesitation. “But it’s hard for me when you dress in such an asexual way.”

A part of me wanted to lash out at him for being so superficial and judgmental. But another part of me could not deny the fact that his words stung.

“I never realized my clothing choices were such a turn-off for you,” I said stiffly.

“It’s not a turn-off,” Jerome clarified. “It’s just ... different. And I am a man. We are visual animals. Plus, I bet if you did offer something for my eyes you would confirm what I knew all along. That you are gorgeous. After all, I do not mind dressing up for you. It is what people who are into each other do.”

As Jerome’s words sunk in, I could feel my chest tightening with a mix of fear and disappointment. I had never even considered that my clothing choices could be a deal-breaker for someone, especially someone I had developed strong feelings for.

But the more Jerome explained his reasoning, the more insecure I felt. Was I not attractive enough for him?

Would he only be interested in me if I changed myself to fit his standards?

Without realizing it, my body began to tremble with anxiety as I listened to Jerome’s suggestions for how I could dress more femininely. He mentioned replacing my comfortable flats with high heels, ditching my pant suits for skirts and dresses.

I wanted to scream at him for being so shallow and superficial. But instead, out of desperation and fear of losing him, I blurted out without thinking that maybe I could try some new things and make some changes to my wardrobe.

Jerome’s face lit up with excitement at my words and he eagerly began listing off different fashion ideas for me. My stomach churned as I realized just how much this meant to him.

But despite my own inner turmoil, I could not help but feel a small sense of hope that maybe these changes would make him see me differently and want me even more.

The next day, I found myself at the mall surrounded by countless racks of clothes and shoes. Normally, shopping was something that brought me joy and relaxation, but today it felt like a chore.

However, every time I held up an item that Jerome might like or suggested something myself that was out of my comfort zone, his eyes would light up with excitement and he would praise me for being open-minded.

Slowly but surely, our shopping trip turned into a mini makeover session. By the end of the day, my arms were loaded with bags and my feet ached from trying on so many pairs of high heels.

After our shopping trip, Jerome and I said our goodbyes outside the mall. As we hugged, he leaned in to give me a quick kiss.

But then, suddenly, strong arms picked me up and placed me on top of a nearby desk. It took me by surprise, but I could not help but melt into his touch as he started kissing me passionately.

We made out for several minutes before he finally put me back down on my new high heeled feet. I could not believe how much taller I felt in these heels and the newfound confidence they gave me, and that, “click”.

Jerome smirked at my reaction and playfully spanked my ass before turning to leave. I stood there in shock for a moment before realizing that he had left me alone in the middle of the mall with bags all around my arms.

Feeling slightly embarrassed and exposed, I quickly gathered my bags and headed towards the exit. As I walked, I could not help but feel a mix of excitement and confusion about what had just happened to Jerome.

On one hand, I was thrilled that he seemed so interested in me and wanted to see me dressed differently. A fucking snack at that. But on the other hand, his actions at the mall had caught me off guard and left me feeling unsure about where things were heading between us.

As I arrived at my car and placed the bags inside, my phone buzzed with a text from Jerome.

“I can’t stop thinking about you. Let us meet up again soon,” it read.

A smile spread across my face as I typed back “I would love that” before starting my car and driving home.

Over the next few weeks, Jerome and I continued to go on dates and spend time together. He would always make subtle comments about how amazing I looked in my new wardrobe or how confident I seemed since wearing more feminine clothing.

But as time went on, those comments started to feel more like criticisms rather than compliments. He would make remarks about how I should wear more makeup or how my hair would look good in a sexier style.

Next Week...

As my relationship with Jerome continued to progress, I found myself constantly trying to look as sexy and alluring as possible for him. It seemed like every time we went out, he had a new suggestion for how I could improve my appearance.

One day, he casually mentioned how much he loved smooth legs on women. Without hesitation, I booked a waxing appointment and endured the pain of getting perfectly polished legs for our next date.

But that was only the beginning. Jerome would constantly make subtle suggestions about my wardrobe, encouraging me to wear shorter skirts and higher heels. He even insisted that I stop wearing pantyhose and switch to stockings instead.

At first, I was hesitant and self-conscious about his requests. But with each compliment he gave me when I followed his advice, I could not help but feel a sense of satisfaction and validation. Moreover, part of me longed for what he would have me try on next. I masturbated a few times looking at sexy clothing websites imagining how I would feel wearing the more scandalous ones at his request.

I started putting more effort into my makeup, experimenting with more intricate and daring looks. And of course, I made sure to always wear the perfume that Jerome said drove him wild.

It was not until one night when we were getting ready to go out that it hit me. As I stood in front of the mirror, applying layer after layer of makeup and adjusting my short skirt so it hugged my curves just right, I realized that I was changing myself for someone else’s approval.

But by then, it felt too late to turn back. Jerome had become accustomed to this version of me – the sexier, more erotically confident version – and any deviation from that might disappoint him. Then things went into an entirely new level. We had sex for the first time. I was not expecting it, it was in my office. I can remember it like it was yesterday.

I can remember the first time Jerome came to visit me at my office. It had been a few weeks since we started dating, and he had mentioned wanting to see where I worked. So, when he showed up unexpectedly on a Friday afternoon, I was thrilled but also a little nervous.

But as soon as he walked through the door, all my nervousness disappeared. He was dressed impeccably in a stylish suit, and his confidence radiated from him as he strode towards me with that irresistible grin on his face.

After exchanging pleasantries and showing him around my office, Jerome suddenly turned serious. “I want you to strip for me,” he said firmly, his eyes darkening with desire.

My heart raced at the command. Part of me was shocked by his boldness, but another part of me was incredibly turned on.

Without hesitation, I started to undress in front of him. I could feel his eyes on me as each piece of clothing fell to the floor until I was standing there in just my bra and panties.

“Take those off too,” Jerome ordered, gesturing towards my lingerie.

My arousal grew even more intense as I obeyed him without question and stood there completely naked except for my pair of 6-inch red fuck-me pumps. He never took his eyes off me as I stood there exposed before him.

Then without warning, Jerome grabbed me roughly and spun me around so that my back was against him with me facing the window looking out over campus. With one hand gripping my waist and the other pinning mine above my head against the glass, he pressed himself against me from behind.

I could feel every hard inch of him pressing against my backside and it sent shivers down my spine. Without any further words or warning, he slid inside of me with one swift thrust.

The forcefulness of his entry caused me to gasp in pleasure and surprise. But any protests were quickly silenced as he began to move in a steady rhythm, his hands roaming over my body as he filled me. My word he was big, and his girth! To be taken by such raw power.

The view outside the window was a blur, but all I could focus on was him. His body, his strength, his control. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

His breath was hot on my neck as he whispered dirty things into my ear, making me squirm beneath him. I could feel myself getting closer to the edge, my body craving release.

Just when I thought I could not take any more, Jerome slammed into me one last time, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. I cried out his name as I came, my body convulsing around him.

After a few moments, he pulled out of me and helped me off the window ledge. As we caught our breath, he leaned in to kiss me passionately, tasting myself on his lips.

“Thank you...” I panted out. That is when I realized I was dealing with a different animal than I truly experienced in my entire life. I was still recovering when the next words out of his mouth bound me.

“That is thank you Sir” He growled out as he spanked my ass spun me back around and picked me up off the ground, all I could do is wrap my smooth legs around his muscular backside as he slid into me again. I screamed in pleasure. He felt so good. I never wanted his dick to leave my body. My held on for dear life as he started to truly fuck me. At that moment I ceased to have any authority over him.

It was only after we had finished, both panting and sweaty, that Jerome pulled me into his arms and whispered, “You are mine now.”

I hesitated for a moment before responding, “What does that mean?”

He replied, “It means that I own you. You belong to me, and you will do as I say.”

A chill ran down my spine at his words, but there was something undeniably thrilling about it too. In the end I swooned in his arms.

As we cleaned ourselves up and got dressed, Jerome made it clear that this was only the beginning. He spoke of all the ways he was going to train me, to mold me into the perfect submissive.

In the following days, I could not shake the feeling that I had entered something dark and dangerous. But the deeper I fell into his world, the more I found myself craving his dominance.

I discovered that I enjoyed the submission, the control that he exerted. I masturbated all three days to thoughts of his cock and words of what he was going to do to me, after that night. I was getting desperate wondering now that he got what he wanted would he leave me high and dry. I tried to do what he said, maybe I fucked up somehow, I thought to myself.

If I really looked at my closet, I would know how much he had control of me. I had only three pair of flats left in my closet, and a cute pair of tennis shoes that I wore with the slutty yoga outfit he bought for me.

Just when I was starting to descend into depression, I got a call! It was from him!!! I beamed in happiness as I had to do all I could to keep the giddiness out of my voice. He sent a picture of what he wanted me to wear tonight. He told me that I was to report to him at his fraternity house. He told me to pack clothes for the weekend. I felt honored and happy. Of course, I packed every article of clothing he asked. I even practiced my walk in the heels he had me were so I could give him the sexiest saunter possible to entice him. I will not have him get away I told myself.

As I arrived at the fraternity house in my slutty professor’s outfit, my heart was racing with excitement and nerves. The outfit consisted of a tight black pencil skirt that hugged my curves, barely reaching mid-thigh. Paired with it was a sheer white blouse, unbuttoned to reveal a lacey black bra underneath. My long hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and I wore red stiletto heels that added extra height to my already tall frame.

I could not help but feel self-conscious as I walked up to the fraternity house, knowing that all eyes were on me. But at the same time, I felt an exhilarating sense of power and control. All these men were looking at me with desire and lust, and I knew it was because of my professor’s orders.

As soon as I stepped through the doors, there was an eruption of cheers and whistles from the fraternity brothers. They surrounded me, admiring my outfit and making lewd comments about how good I looked.

I blushed deeply but could not help feeling turned on by their attention. It was like being in some sort of fantasy where all these attractive men were fawning over me.

Jerome appeared then, placing his hand possessively on my lower back as he guided me through the crowd. He stood tall and confident in his suit, exuding dominance with every move he made.

We made our way to the main room where everyone gathered around us eagerly. Jerome addressed them all, introducing me as his submissive for the weekend and explaining that I was to be broken in this weekend. The frat house broke out in raucous cheer. I felt hot and my sex moist.

“First test, fail this and you might as well leave and never come back got it slut?” He barked at me. Part of me wanted to fight but the part that won out throbbed. All I could do was meekly nod as I licked my lip gloss-stained lips.

“Good girl, now I want you to get on your hands and knees crawl on the floor and then from your knees fish my cock out and get to work” he said finishing his order with a forceful clap that startled me.

I could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on me as I got down on my hands and knees, my heart pounding in my chest. This was it, the moment that would determine whether I would make it through this weekend or not.

I crawled slowly towards Jerome, every movement feeling exaggerated and sensual. I could hear the whispers and comments from the fraternity brothers, all eagerly anticipating what was about to happen.

When I finally reached Jerome’s feet, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me closer to him. My breath hitched at his touch, but I did not resist. I knew that this was what he wanted, what he had commanded me to do.

With trembling hands, I reached up to unzip his pants and fish out his cock. It sprang out fully erect, glistening with pre-cum. Without hesitation, I took him into my mouth and began to pleasure him.