Hello everyone!
I thought I share my The Last Door inspired story here on fanfiction.
But on with the story...

Stupid boy.
Catching a glimpse of Father William's stern expression out of the corner of my eyes, my gaze sought refuge in the frugal sight of the courtyard veiled in fog.
I heard feet shuffling, which indicated that my fellow colleagues had not failed to notice the mood which currently occupied our teachers mind.
Concentrating more than necessary on the dull late-September landscape, I heard Father William's heavy footsteps followed by more timid ones.
One could not suppress a snigger mocking the poor boy who had fallen victim to a "conversation in private".
And we all knew what that meant.

Stupid boy.

Depriving myself from the gaze of my colleagues I walked quickly, but without haste to the room of the (due to a family matter) recently absent father Ernest.
Lifting the doorknob a little bit before pushing usually sufficed opening the locked door.
While removing a tasteless tableau depicting some unhealthy pink shepherd accompanied by rather dull than protected looking sheep, I could already hear muffled shreds of the heated monologue protruding through the hole.
Poor, stupid boy.

The "conversation" contained of Father William lecturing and questioning his kneeling, presumed guilty, suspect, who held his shaking hands stretched out obediently and murmured frightened words of agreement.
I felt my own heartbeat increasing witnessing Father William opening the top drawer in which I knew, to my own misfortune, he kept a rather heavy old leather belt.
I saw terror creeping over my poor colleague's face as Father William approached him theatrically slowly as his free hand pointed at the direction of the tomes accusingly piled up on his writing desk.
I saw tears forming in my colleague's eyes as he lost control over his voice and nodded, trembling under the unholy accusations.
And I winced and closed my eyes as the belt was brought down hard upon the culprit's hands.
Poor, stupid Jeremiah.

CRACK

Tears running down his cheeks I heard him confessing and apologising for his outrageous behaviour.
CRACK

I heard him asking the Lord for forgiveness, admitting his sinning by reading words brought to the earth by the devil.
And then he started to defend his actions.
CRACK
CRACK
CRACK

Oh, poor naïve Jeremiah.
His ravenous appetite for wisdom could only be satisfied by words long forgotten, scripts protruding from Greek philosophy.

Soon the library books would no longer suffice and he craved for older books, ungodly books…
Some nights I had heard him in his bunk bed underneath mine, secretly trying to decipher these unholy writings by pale sunlight at dawn.
CRACK

I heard his sobs, Jeremiah no longer able to supress the burning pain in his fingers.
He begged for forgiveness, but his attempts to defend his actions were met with Father William's raging screams and unnecessarily harsh punishment.

CRACK
CRACK
CRACK

As the sobs had died away and the shouting ceased, oppressive silence reigned the lodging next door.
Uneasy silence.
I dared one look through the hole.

Father William had pulled up his chair while Jeremiah…
I gasped.
Never before had I noticed the innumerable amount of freckles adorning not only his shoulders but travelling down his well-built hips and legs as well.
I…I couldn't…
Once I had caught a glimpse of Jeremiah's naked body I felt no longer able to draw away from his alien beauty.
I felt my heartbeat increasing as I scanned his divine extérieur, taking in his appealing shoulders his seductive hips alongside his tempting backside.
Exposed to the stern expression of Father William his auburn locks hid most of his face as his gaze was affixed guiltily to the ground, his hands trying in a futile attempt to shield more private areas from his teacher's view.
Small beads of sweat formed on his shivering body as he approached his teacher with uncertain steps.
As he raised his head I could see the pleading glance he shot at Father William while he blushed.
A futile attempt, for seconds later he obediently positioned himself in front of his teacher, his elbows steadying his trembling body against the writing desk.

Father William mumbled a short presumed justification before raising his leather belt.
And brought it hard down on Jeremiah's backside.

I panted as I felt the flesh between my thighs awakening.
Unable to withdraw my gaze travelled from Father William, whose years of alcohol abuse made it hard for him to control the force of his slaps, to my writhing colleague who bit down on his by now bleeding lower lip in order not to cry out in agony.
Jeremiah was blushing, trying to escape his humiliation by closing his tear-filled eyes, and dug his nails into his elbows until they drew blood.
But there was something else I witnessed…
With my left hand travelling down towards my nether regions, to calm my rousing flesh, I was no longer in control over my commencing adolescent feelings and succumbed.
I moaned, sank trembling to my knees and touched myself unashamedly, Jeremiah's muffled screams sending pleasant shivers down my spine.
He begged. The exact words I could not understand, but he begged him, cried out for mercy and was silenced by more violent slaps.
I felt the forbidden flesh between my fingers pulsating, demanding release and I longed for it, how I craved it, this feeling that I'd never had before.
I shut my eyes and let this new sensation pour over me, waves of pleasure came into being in my abdomen and spread through my heated limbs.
Oh, Jeremiah, what sweet and cursed pleasure you had awoken in me.

As the arousal died away, I found myself panting heavily and covered in cold sweat, but still unable to stand up.
I steadied myself against the wall, listening to what Father William probably thought of as "résumé" and closed my eyes breathing in deeply until I felt strong enough to return to the dormitory without my legs disobeying me.
And I evaded Jeremiah's gaze guiltily...

Oh, what a beginning.
I hope you enjoyed it and feel free to spill your thoughts...