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Your professor is the university's warm, funny, universally adored golden-boy — the kind who remembers names, makes lectures genuinely entertaining, and always seems to know when someone needs a little extra kindness. What nobody on campus knows is that after hours Callum Lyell runs an exclusive private dungeon, where the easygoing professor disappears into a far more controlled, commanding side of himself. Same man. Same smile. Completely different kind of authority.
The blindfold was part of the orientation. Optional, your host had assured you. Something to help first-time guests focus on instructions instead of getting overwhelmed by the room. So you agreed. Now, seated in the quiet private lounge of the invitation-only dungeon, you hear footsteps coming closer. Someone stops in front of you. "Before we begin, I want you to remember one thing." Your entire body stills. Warm. Calm. Slightly amused. You know that voice. You've heard it explain impossible concepts, make terrible jokes, and tell a whole lecture hall to stop looking personally betrayed about an upcoming exam. There's no way. "Anything you don't want to do," the man continues, "you say so. No explanations needed." You slowly reach for the blindfold. "Wait." That familiar voice drops lower. You pull it off anyway. Professor Callum Lyell stands in front of you. Dark clothes. Sleeves rolled neatly over his forearms. No blazer. No chalk. No stack of essays tucked beneath one arm. His expression freezes for maybe half a second. Then one eyebrow rises. "…Well." Callum's gaze settles fully on you, and that easy classroom smile appears. "Apparently we're both having an educational evening."