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Dear Mr. Emmett Ashford,
I trust this email finds you well. I am writing to bring to your attention the matter of another outstanding alimony payment.
As your divorce attorney, it is crucial to ensure that all financial commitments, including alimony, are met in a timely manner as stipulated in the divorce settlement. Our records indicate that the alimony payments for June, July, and August of this year have not yet been received.
To avoid any legal complications and to uphold the terms of the divorce agreement, I kindly request that you promptly make the payment within the next two weeks.
Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter.
Best regards,
Richard Johnson
Finishing the drink in my glass, I refilled it. The screen on my phone dimmed before going black altogether, and I sighed once more, exhaustion weighing heavily on me. How the fuck could Madeline expect three months’ worth of checks in two weeks? She’d bled me dry during the divorce, taking nearly everything I’d worked so hard for my entire life, and still expected monthly checks? An outrageous amount of money, too.
“I’m taking what’s owed for emotional damages,” she’d told me, barely holding back the sneer in her voice.
Finding out about my multiple affairs with multiple students seemed to push her over the edge she’d already been teetering on. Perhaps if I’d been more discreet, if I hadn’t been so reckless by watching a homemade sex tape of Karissa bouncing on my cock in the middle of an empty classroom, then maybe Madeline would’ve never been the wiser. She would’ve never caught me—no one would’ve. But after dealing with Madeline for all of Christmas break, I’d needed a release, and watching my greatest hits was a sure-fire way to calm me down.
So I’d gone through hours’ worth of video and photo content, edging myself to the point my cock felt like it was about to fall off. But I was desperate—no, I was addicted. I still am. I probably always will be.
It had been the final straw, and it was a ridiculous way to go out. A stupid mistake. Thinking I’d locked the door to my office, only for her to walk in and see it all.
Shame filled me, and I took another long drink. I’d been so arrogant. I thought I was untouchable—I wasn’t. I thought I could continue fucking my way through freshman and sophomore girls until I retired—I couldn’t. All good things come crashing down eventually.
The room spun as I reached for my phone, sliding my thumb along the screen to unlock it. It took me three tries before I typed in the correct password to view my bank account.
There used to be more zeros after that last number, but now…
I loathed Madeline. Detested her to her fucking core. Hated how effortlessly she could diminish me, emasculate me to the point she had. Strip a man of his finances, dismantle everything he’d painstakingly built and worked toward his entire life, deprive him of everything he’d provided, and what was left but a broken shell of the person he once was?
Without my prestige, the title of everyone’s favorite professor—what remained? A void. A deep abyss I feared I’d never claw my way out of. I’d become a pathetic version of my former glory, barely recognizable, teaching at a school far below my standards. Once, I’d educated students from every corner of the globe, working alongside pioneers in their fields.
Groveton was different. Despite its Ivy League facade, it wasn’t what I was used to.
Lipstick on a pig was still a pig, and Groveton was…
I ignored the empty glass in my hand in favor of downing liquor straight from the bottle. The liquid dribbled from the corners of my mouth, down my chin, dripping onto my white button-down shirt. Would it stain? I couldn’t call Madeline and ask her about laundry.
It had been a mistake last time, thinking we could be amicable. In my drunken state, I’d called her, asking for her grandmother’s recipe for some casserole. You would’ve thought I’d asked if I could skin her alive from the way she’d reacted, screeching through the phone, calling me names, all sorts of expletives firing from her. So I did what any rational person in my position would’ve done: I hung up on her.
Another mistake.
Everything blurred together, and my limbs felt too heavy as I looked around my apartment. It wasn’t a nice place. The ceiling was water-stained, and the walls were cracking. The carpeted floors were stained with years of unknown liquids from previous tenants, and the hot water only lasted a few minutes before it ran out. Everything was falling apart; it was all old and run down. It was a far cry from the opulence I was used to, from the five-bedroom home I’d lived in for the last decade, with its vaulted ceilings and pillars out front.
A life of luxury. That’s what it had been.
Alcohol coursed through my veins as I stumbled through the mostly empty apartment, banging into walls and tripping over my own feet, the bottle still clutched in my unrelenting grip. The only furnishings were things I’d found at the local thrift store, and most were in need of a reupholster. Or perhaps a trip to the dump would’ve been better.
Resting my hand on the bathroom door, I shoved it open, letting it swing in and slam against the wall. Gripping the edge of the counter, I forced myself to look myself in the eye, my reflection showing a man I didn’t recognize.
A shadow of stubble coated my jaw, and my eyes, once bright green, were now dimmed with months of wallowing. Darkness sat heavily under my eyes, and my cheeks were more sunken than I’d remembered. My frame, once lean and muscular, was lacking the muscle I’d put on during my sexcapades. Now I was just tall and lanky, the echo of the physique I’d once honed overshadowed by the drinking habit I’d picked up since moving to bumfuck Texas.
I needn’t worry about the pretty girls in class. They wouldn’t give me a second glance—I looked every bit my forty-five years. I felt it, too. No self-respecting young woman would ever come near me.
But they never were self-respecting, were they? I’d always gone for the girls who were novices in seduction but eager to learn. They were the ones who knew they could use their sexuality to get ahead in life and had no qualms doing so.
Would Winona be like that? Would she sink to her knees before me, bat those pretty eyes, and ask for a better grade? Would she wrap her mouth around my cock and slide it down her throat, letting me watch it disappear, then reappear as she worshiped me like the perfect little cockwhore we both knew she was?
