"Are you sure?"
	"Yes."  She took a deep breath.  "Yes, I am."
	"Alright.  Let's see just how 'sure' you really are."  I smiled.
 I'd thought about this moment, maybe not with her, but at least
this kind of moment, for months.
	"Here," I said, handing her the scissors from my desk.  "Take
these and go to the restroom.  Cut through your underwear at the
hips, pull them off and bring them to me.  Don't remove your
other clothes first."
	She hesitated.  I'm certain she wasn't expecting what I'd asked.
 That's why I asked it...
	"I thought you said you were sure," I said.
	Hesitation.  Then, she nodded, a blush creeping up from her neck
as she reached for the scissors.  She turned and went out the
door.

	Emily approached me.  For all that I'd dreamed of such an
encounter, I knew my continued employment as a teacher depended
on my ability to keep my dreams as only that.
	Yet, there she'd stood, next to my desk.  Our usual banter of
double-entendres and innuendos was absent, her usual
light-hearted look more serious.  Her whole demeanor betrayed the
tension within, but even I was surprised when she said what she
did.
	"I think I'm ready for something a little more daring."
	"Really?  How daring?"
	"Daring enough to get either one of us in trouble.  Not that I
want that to happen..."
	"Hmmm..."  Daring was one thing, dangerous was something else
entirely.  I needed her to be more specific, but I couldn't be
specific.  God, it's difficult being deviant in a repressive
setting.
	"Are we talking hidden or openly daring?"  Hidden dares would be
things she and I knew about but no one else.  Open dares would
be, well, open to public knowledge.
	"Oh, hidden, of course."
	And so I'd sent her off with the scissors.

	She walked back into the room, outwardly no different than when
she'd left, but the look on her face said she was convinced the
whole world knew.  I stared at the long peasant skirt that was
almost daily attire for her, as if expecting I could see through
it to what wasn't beneath anymore.  She extended her hand with
the scissors, bunched cloth hidden in her fist.  I took both
without comment and opened the side drawer of the desk to return
the scissors to their regular spot.
I opened my hand.  The cloth was white with little flowers on it.
 I could feel her warmth still in it as I unfolded it slightly. 
The doubled material of the crotch was slightly damp and scented
with her arousal.  And I knew I had her.

	I turned to her and smiled.  She lifted her eyes to mine, a
light sheen of dampness on her upper lip.
	"You didn't expect that, did you?"  My voice was soft, barely
above a whisper.
	"No, I didn't."
	"But you did it anyway.  Are you glad?"
	She hesitated, eyes flickering away and back again.
	"Well, um, ah...y-yes.  Yes, I am."  As she spoke her voice got
stronger, more assured.
	"Well, then.  Let's find out what else you'd like."  I paused
for the effect it would create, the anticipation.
	"Emily, I want you to make a list of your ideas on how to make
all this more exciting.  Think of other dares; list them by
'hidden' or 'open'.  Be sure to type the list, no names
anywhere."
	I paused again.  "I'll make one, too..."
	She nodded.  "Today's Friday.  I'll bring them in on Monday,
that will give me the weekend to think about it."  She smiled
weakly.  "And I'll list them from least to most daring."
	"Good," I said.  "I also want you to make a special list.  A
list of those things you wouldn't dare put on a regular list.  A
list you don't even dare rank.  You know the ones I'm talking
about, the ones you've thought about but would never admit to."
	A blush spread upward from her neck with amazing speed.  Oxygen
seemed a sparse commodity for her as she flapped her lower jaw
noiselessly.
	"You didn't think anyone would know you have those thoughts, did
you?  Dearie, it takes a deviant to spot another one, and I'm
looking at one right now.  Aren't I?"
	The blush faded, but she couldn't meet my gaze.
	"I...I...can't do that.  I can't make that other...list."
	I decided to press the Dominant role with her.  Leaning closer
to her, my voice hard, "You can and you will.  Look at me.  Look
at me!"
	She lifted her eyes in stages.  It took her three attempts
before she was able to hold eye contact with me.
	"Emily, if you don't include that special list, and you can put
it on a separate sheet of paper if you want, then don't bring in
any list."
	She blinked.  Once, twice...
	"You really want me to see your lists, don't you, Emily?"
	A breath.  Another.  "Yes, I do."  Her voice was barely above a
whisper.
	I took a gamble.  "And the mere idea of my seeing your list has
you aroused, doesn't it, Emily?"  I smiled ever so slightly.
	Her eyes were rounder than the glasses in front of them.  Now
she stopped breathing completely.
	"If I were standing right next to you, I would probably be able
to smell your arousal, wouldn't I, Emily?"  Every time I said her
name she jumped, almost imperceptibly, a twitching of the
shoulders, a flickering of the eyes.
	"It's a powerful scent, don't you think, Emily?"
	The capture was complete.  In that moment, I knew I had her. 
The ardor would cool but not disappear as she wrote her most
secret thoughts for me over the weekend.  And on Monday she would
be mine.  It's all about control, really.  Not sex, not pain, not
humiliation.  Just control.  Who wants it, who doesn't want
it...