The Professorial Predator: A Student's Revenge

The day before I was supposed to submit my paper, I received a message from my professor-If I wanted to get a high grade and be recognized as an outstanding graduate, I would have to agree to his request.

And his request was simple-he wanted me to sleep with him.

I never imagined that this respected professor would turn out to be a wolf in sheep's clothing.

This semester, our department got a new professor. I heard he was a PhD who had studied at a prestigious university abroad and was quite experienced in teaching.

For years, our department's academic performance had been stagnant, but as soon as this new professor took over, he called a class meeting and laid down strict academic expectations. A few laid-back guys who showed up late were even made to stand by the door as punishment.

"Claire, this new professor looks tough. Do you think our papers are doomed?" Tina Marshall asked, her voice filled with concern as she glanced at our new instructor's stern expression.

I had been busy with my studies, but at Tina's question, I looked up at the new professor.

He was in his mid-thirties, with a square jaw and a no-nonsense, serious expression. He didn't seem particularly approachable.

But, we were almost seniors. Surely, a professor wouldn't fail students on purpose, right?

Besides, this school was just an average university. It couldn't be that strict, could it?

Tina furrowed her brows and muttered, "But someone like you, Claire, doesn't need to worry. If it weren't for that one slip-up, you probably could have gone to a much better university."

I coughed, not wanting to revisit the past.

Indeed, I was considered the model student by everyone-quiet, obedient, always studying, and constantly praised by my parents. I was the type of student other parents would point to and say, "Look at Claire, she's the example."

But despite being the perfect student, I had made a major mistake during my university applications and ended up at a school that wasn't quite as prestigious as I had hoped. My parents had been disappointed for a long time, feeling like I had let them down.

And on top of that, attending a less prestigious school meant higher tuition fees, which was a real burden on my family since we were never well off.

I scratched my head and glanced at my research materials. That was why I applied for scholarships every year-so I wouldn't have to ask my parents for money.

As for who the professor was, it didn't really matter to me. What mattered was getting a good grade.

Ideally, I could also secure the title of "Outstanding Graduate" to make it easier to find a job after graduation.

Just as I was thinking this, I heard someone calling my name.

"Claire Johnson, which one is Claire Johnson?"

Tina nudged me with her elbow, and I realized I was being addressed. I turned to look at the podium.

The new professor was staring at me with a furrowed brow. "Claire, you'll be our Peer Academic Advisor. You'll help supervise your classmates' papers. Come to my office after class."

I never expected this new professor to suddenly assign me such a task.

On the surface, "Peer Academic Advisor" sounded like a prestigious title, but in reality, it was a thankless job. By the time we were seniors, who still seriously worked on their papers? Most of us just wanted to get it done as quickly as possible. Who would want to spend their time babysitting others' papers when everyone else was just trying to coast to graduation?

I was about to decline, but when I saw the professor's serious face, I held back my words.

After class, I reluctantly headed to his office.

This new professor was named William Carter. It seemed that as soon as he became a professor, he was given his own office, which made him seem quite important.

Clearly, the university had high hopes for him.

When I entered, William immediately shut the door behind me and pointed to a chair beside him, signaling for me to sit.

The room felt a bit claustrophobic, and I suddenly became a little nervous.

William walked over to the water dispenser, filled a cup, and handed it to me. His voice was noticeably softer than before.

"Don't worry, I just want to get an understanding of the situation in the class I'm teaching."

William had asked the right person. Although I usually steered clear of getting involved in other people's business, I was well-liked by my classmates thanks to my friendly nature, and I knew quite a bit about them.

I began giving him a simple rundown of the class situation. William seemed genuinely interested in what I was saying.

He asked a few more questions, which I answered without issue.

After a while, he nodded, satisfied. "Alright, that's enough. You can go now. I have a few questionnaires here for you. Take them back to your classmates and have them filled out, then bring them to me tomorrow."

This wasn't a difficult task, so I agreed without hesitation.

Just as I was about to leave, William added, "Claire, don't be afraid of me. I don't bite."

I was taken aback by his comment but then smiled at him.

It seemed like this new professor wasn't as hard to get along with as I thought.

I immediately relayed this information to my classmates, and Tina let out a sigh of relief.

She was most worried about failing the class. If her paper didn't pass, she might not be able to graduate.

Since I was now the Peer Academic Advisor, Tina asked me to build a good rapport with William, hoping I could gather more information.

I was the type of person who preferred to avoid unnecessary drama, and I wasn't particularly keen on networking. Tina's words quickly became background noise for me.

However, after a few days, I realized that William kept asking me for help-whether it was because he couldn't find a USB drive or was looking for a classroom. It was getting hard to avoid him.

I attributed this behavior to him still adjusting to the time zone after returning from abroad, so I didn't think much of it.

But the others, including my good friend Tina, weren't quite so pleased with how often I was running to the office or classrooms.