Learning Curve

Chapter 5

Shyla nodded her head. "Yes, thank you. I will try harder!"

The professor didn't say anything else, but just glared at her. She could feel the pretense. Professors must get a lot of people into their office just looking for a shortcut, or a handout, or another way. She wasn't looking for a shortcut, she was just looking for any way. But, the professor didn't know that. And actually, although she normally wouldn't seek out a shortcut, with her increasing desperation she had to admit she was willing to consider it this time, so maybe the professor was right to think so.

She smiled and stood, then made her way out. She stopped in the hallway and rested her back against the wall. What was she going to do? She'd just spent an hour trying to understand what she had failed to understand when she turned in her latest homework, and still didn't really understand it. She felt like she'd gotten a few scraps out of it, but that they'd never stick.

The whole time she'd been in the office, she'd been so worried about proving to the professor that she could do this, that she could in fact understand it, that she was capable, that she hadn't really focused on the material. An hour lost...

Tears were beginning to form in her eyes. She felt so lost, so alone. Everyone else was showing success in their studies, well most everyone. She'd swallowed her pride and asked some of the most successful students. She also tried to understand the other students that she knew were struggling to see if she could learn whatnotto do.

Suddenly, she realized there were footsteps. She turned slightly away from the sound and quickly wiped her eyes. Then she looked to see who was coming and whether they had noticed her present state.

Two students approached side-by-side. She did not know them. She stood waiting until they passed. After they had passed her and assumed they were out of earshot, she overheard them comment that she looked like "another failing undergraduate that thinks they're entitled to a free pass." They must have been graduate students, she concluded. And assholes, she also concluded.

As they rounded the corner, she felt her eyes tear up again, and this time it wasn't going to stop. She tried to plan out a way to get out of the building with a minimal of running into other people.

Chapter 6

Edan sat, anxiously awaiting his coffee partner. It was 10 minutes past their usual meeting time, and Shyla was usually close to punctual. He focused hard on other thoughts, and every time his mind started wondering towards consideration as to whether she was coming he forced himself to focus on something random, anything he could see. A person walking. A bird in the tree. Anything, he didn't want to think himself into pain.

He didn't know if she would show again after his messy and embarrassing fiasco the week before. He was really frightened that he'd lost his coffee partner and good friend, Shyla, for good. He wanted to kick himself.

Why couldn't he just stick to societal norms and not say stupid things like that? He wanted to kick himself. Then, he saw Shyla appear at the patio doorway. He let out a heavy breath of relief.

She came up and sat down, smiling and in good temper it appeared.

"Hi Edan!" She said cheerily. "I'm sorry for getting so worked up last week." She opened.

She was sorry? Ah, that was good, she wasn't mad after all. He didn't need an apology, he'd just been worried that she was angry.

"No need, I was out of line."

"No, no I really thought about what you were saying."

"Oh uh you did?"

"Yeah. Well, I haven't had much choice. My entire life has been consumed with one moment after another of agony while I try to figure out how to fix my academic doom march."

"Oh.. Well, I uh—" he was at a loss for a good response.

She took a long pause, then made deep eye contact. He was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. "So... about your little idea."

"My idea? Oh, well, yeah I mean did you come up with anything 'off-the-beaten track' that might help you?"

She explained, in a voice much softer than her usual, "no, not the idea to think outside the box, although I get that now. No, your specific idea."

"My...uh...huh?"

She looked around and leaned in. She paused. She tried to start saying something several times, but seemed at a loss for words.

In the pause, he was thinking through what she was saying. She had started blushing and was resting her face on her fist, supported by an arm on the table. She looked like she wanted to run for the hills.

When it became clear that she wanted help expressing herself, he finally asked, "You mean the bondage?"

She immediately turned her face before turning it back. He figured he'd embarrassed her by mentioning it again.

"Sorry, didn't mean to bring it—"

She made eye contact and nodded her head. She held the gaze. When she realized that he didn't understand, she repeated her nod. "Yes." She said simply.

"Yes what?"

She blushed and looked away again. He was afraid this must have been agonizing for her. She looked back. "What you said. Yes... the..."

"...bondage?"

"Yes."

"Oh, what about it?" He tried to stick to a conversational tone despite the unusual topic matter.

She took a deep breath. She had known this was going to be horribly difficult, but it was becoming too much. She was about to give up and accept the failing grade.

She didn't respond, and he could see her getting still more flush. He was confused. She meant the bondage? Did she... She couldn't possibly mean what he'd said about whipping it into her? No. He wasn't about to make an ass out of himself again, he wasn't even going to bring it up. He watched her, torn between her agony and trying to figure out what to say.

"Do you suppose something like that might really work?" She asked very softly, not as a matter of control but of obvious embarrassment.

"Something like...what, the bondage? Wow, uh, well. What about the bondage?" She nodded. Then she stayed silent. She buried her head under her arms on the table and kept peeking up at him with a gentle smile before hiding again. She actually seemed like she was getting over her embarrassment a little, or at least had dug in as far as she could be. She lifted her head back up, but she remained with a fist supporting her face close to the table, keeping about as small a profile as a person could at the table.

"You suggested that I needed to have it whipped into me."

"Oh! Yeah... uh, I don't know. Never really heard of anyone trying it before. I'd really meant it more of an example than a..." he suddenly realized how it must have seemed. "I didn't – I – it's not – I hadn't been thinking about it specifically or anything, I mean, it's not, I wasn't sitting around –"

"No, no that's ok, I'm not mad."

He scratched his head, also seeking out a lower profile but similarly with nowhere to hide. "Oh.. Uhm, well like I said, I don't know if anyone's ever tried it."

His heart was racing. Most guys probably would have picked up on the fact that she was asking him about this, not just researching it herself, on the internet or through girlfriends. He might have even considered that later, after their conversation, when he was reconsidering it in his mind. But, Edan was not really on watch for signs or "ins" as Mark like to call them.

But this conversation was so awkward that it was impossible for him to not recognize that something was up. He wouldn't consider it an invitation, or try to move on it, he might ordinarily flirt and tease about the idea, both for fun and to break the ice a little, but this seemed way too sensitive for her.

"Would..." She paused. "Would you..."

His heart sped up even faster. If that was possible. Was she asking him to try "whipping it into me"?

"You want me to..."

She swallowed and took a deep breath. Now came an obviously rehearsed line, one that she'd considered a lot and decided was an essential statement if she was really going to try this. There was no point trying something like this half way. "No limits." She said softly and very directly, making it clear that she was serious, but smiling slightly.

He sat smiling lightly, but mute.

She repeated. "No limits, anything that you think can be useful towards me learning the material and doing well in my class."

There, she'd gotten it out.

She tried to remain composed, having gotten it all out felt like a enormous weight was lifted. Although she now had to wait for a response.

"Is this how it feels to ask a girl on a date? You... you.. I don't know, you have all this angst and know what you want to say, and there's only this split second that you have to endure waiting for a response, but that one split second is so bad that it scares you to the bone?"

"Yes." He said simply, suddenly completely unsympathetic over the thought.

She made her eyes large as an obvious hint that she was waiting for her aforementioned response. "And..." she led him with a slight gesture of her hands.

He smiled. "Yes, I would enjoy trying to help you."

She felt another sigh of relief. She felt like she could collapse. It was over, and he had actually agreed to it. Roughly, the best possible outcome. Now all that remained was the part where she ran like she'd she'd never run before, jump off a bridge, leap into a pit, and find a good spot in the dirt to bury her head for at least 3-6 hours.

She got up from her chair.

"Uhm.. yeah so I'm horribly embarrassed now. I'm just going to... " She gestured toward the patio door. "Yeah, going now." She smiled and made a lighthearted expression.

"No need to be embarrassed, I know how hard that was – you're right, a whole lot like asking a girl on a date. Admiral that you got up the guts to ask!"

"Well... I'm sort of desperate. You know that. Anyway, still wanting to run. Going to now." In her dramatically more lighthearted motion she started walking away. Then she turned and stepped back towards him. She started to speak but stopped. Then turned. Then turned again.

"When's a good time for you?" She said with a face that could only express their joint feeling that one last thing unavoidably had to be asked before they could end the awkwardness.

"Uhm... Do you want to say my place tomorrow night?"

"Sure. E-mail me your address."

"Right, done. And Shyla..." She was already turned and a step away but paused, without turning back. "Thank you for thinking of me. I'm honored, really, and hope that I can help. We'll have a fun time of it, and don't be embarrassed, that was really hard, I know."

At no point did she turn back and look again, or say anything else, but after he finished and paused, she grew a smile that he could not see. She continued her walk outward with the smile. She could only describe her emotions as "shock and awe".

Chapter 7

Her body was ravaged. Her nipples felt sore. Her head was beginning to spin. Shehadto learn this material. Her legs were tied to the bed, but her arms were free. She sat up and began thumbing through the paper. Her mind was trying to get distracted, trying to destroy her focus, but she had to learn it. In the weeks before, her emotions couldn't take failure. Now, her body couldn't take failure.

Edan had been gentle. He'd actually been much more gentle than she'd expected. The problem was, she discovered, that extended periods of 'gently' punishing her sensitive spots on her body started adding up to a very, very strong reaction regardless of the intensity. And, he had used a slight growth in intensity as part of the technique, as well. She had noticed in fine detail.

She could lose focus all night and it would just mean more pain for her. There was failure here just as there would be on her exams, but it was a much more immediate failure, and it continually led to pain followed by an endless pattern of having yet "another chance". There was no judgment, no disappointment from her paingiver... In fact, it was just the opposite. Her failure gave him an excuse to rip off another piece of clothing, and then to whip her on her most sensitive areas. At first she was whipped through the clothing, but that was fading fast.

Here, the word "stop" was useless. She had a safeword, but there were rules – if she used it, they would quit for the night and she'd have to go home. She felt close to being a failure already, she wasn't about to give up her last bit of pride and admit defeat. No, the only word that could give her a break from the punishment was the correct answer to the problem.

She was given 30 minutes to study each time. Then, 10 minutes of punishment. Each time she provided an answer he was seeking, he would use up a minute of the punishment letting her rest. If she knew all the correct answers, and could provide them instantly, there was no pain to be had.

The first time, she simply drew blanks. She had been so nervous and distracted that she hadn't been able to focus on the papers in front of her.

The second time, she'd lost her shirt, and was nervous about her appearances, hoping he'd be pleased, and distractedly wondering what he was thinking.

By the third time, the punishment had become enough that she was no longer so concerned with him and had started worrying about herself. She started studying a little. She managed to memorize most of a condensed page of notes into her mind.

When the crop fell on her shoulder, she couldn't focus. She tried to picture the paper, the memorization sheet, and locate the information. What corner was it in? There it is... Finally it ca—another crop fall, this time on her chest. She was blindfolded, so never knew exactly when the crop would land.

"Division is multiplication by the reciprocal!" She blurted out, as soon as she realized it had positioned itself front and center in her mind.

"Correct. Very good my dear."

She relished that his voice sounded pleased. Although he had been quite non judgmental the entire time, there was also a hint of satisfaction that she had caught, that he had tried to conceal.

She was beginning to become more afraid of having nothing with which to stop him than of what would happen in her exam.

But, her memorization was less than perfect. By the 5th question, her memory slipped. The fact that she knew the rest of the paper was useless, she discovered! The whiplashes fell, but the punishment was brief. She must have consumed most of the 10 minutes by her successful answers.

She was relieved that she was beginning to succeed. And he would be pleased, she thought to herself, and smiled, as he was removing the blindfold. She saw the hint of a smile, but otherwise he completely hid any expression. Apparently, the lack of judgment would work both ways – she would not be rewarded with praise or happiness for her answers just as she was not judged for her failings. She supposed that was fair, after all if he got himself emotional in either direction then how would he keep from wanting to do something else with the girl tied to his bed? Besides, if he presented responses then it would make her focus on alternatives to knowing the answer, like other things she might say. Knowing he was going to stick to the rules perfectly gave her mind no place to wander – there was a but a singular path – to have a correct answer in her mind was to know a word that meant "Stop! Break! Pause! Mercy!"

The next half hour passed and she continued to study carefully. This time she memorized twice as much material, able to focus after her success. But, the questions had become a little more challenging, and she still failed to answer all of them correctly.

She felt dismayed as he left the room. If her success was always met with harder questions, then there was to be no solution for her. She would simply be tormented all night. She let herself sink into sadness and failure, wallowing in her hopeless situation. Time passed as she was lost in the desolate bog of discouraged thoughts. But with the half hour nearly exhausted, her body began shivering slightly. Wherever her conscious mind might be staying, her subconscious was whispering to her that she had to do something. She became very worried about the immediate problem of the 10 minutes about to come, and put aside her concern over having no overall escape.

When he returned, he began with several questions that she easily answered. She was happy, they were not any more challenging than before and she'd relieved herself of several minutes of pain.

Then, she felt his hand on her arm. This was different, she thought. He slid it up her forearm with a gentle touch. He loosened the thick, painless rope that held her hands together, and over her head. He removed the blindfold.

He sat her onto an armless chair, and positioned a pillow behind her back. Then a second pillow, but removed it, adjusting until she was positioned where he wanted her, and forced to sit towards the front of the chair.

Then he reached to her thighs with his hands. He applied a gentle pressure, motioning for her to spread her legs apart. She obliged, slowly, hesitantly. He pressed a little more, demonstrating that being gentle did not imply he was making a request.

He proceeded to wrap some gentle rope around her in various places, fixing her mostly in place. Her legs were completely locked in position, and her torso, but her arms were free. At this point, her panties were her only remaining protection from the crop, and they were thin enough to provide little of it. He brought a small table up to her, and handed her paper and a pencil.

"Here is your problem." He paused, but not for long. "A shopping cart contains only apples, oranges, and pears. There are twice as many oranges as apples—" she suddenly realized she was supposed to be writing it down. Oh, what was it he just said? " and three times as many pears as oranges. How many pears are there in terms of the number of apples?"

She had failed to write down the first sentence. She had no choice but to ask. "Sir... Could you repeat the first sentence?"

She suddenly felt a flash of the whip on her back. She had become accustomed to the punishment coming in a certain form, and she'd been laid down on her back for all of the previous sessions. To feel the whip on her naked back was a new sensation!

Her teacher walked around, in front of her. That frightened her, because she knew he had easy access to her front side. She was attentive, as if she had not been before.

"A shopping cart contains only apples, oranges, and pears." He repeated, very matter-of-factly. She wished he would display some emotion, some sign of his feelings.

She jotted down the details of the problem. She couldn't focus. This problem was not memorization, but a thought problem. She was stripped to her panties, being whipped with a crop, whip, and other various things she did not even recognize. How could she possibly answer a question requiring so much thought?

Then it suddenly occurred to her. Now that her eyes were open, she was more aware of her surroundings. She'd learned to ignore them with the blindfold on. She was both impressed that she had overcome some of her focus problems, able to ignore her environment long enough to answer his questions. Then, she was suddenly terrified! It had suddenly occurred to her that she was very aroused. And it would be quite evident on her panties, which Edan was now standing directly in front of.

"Time is up."

Shit. She was supposed to be thinking about apples, not cherries. She decided that if she could master her focus and concentration in this environment, and control these strong emotions, the exam room was going to be a breeze.

He stepped behind her. She dared not turn to look, unsure if that was permitted. When he returned ahead of her, he carried scissors with him. The silk panties she had brought for the special occasion were about to leave ahead of her.