THE ART OF BREAKING HEARTS

The Staff's Building

 Miss Tina's Office

 Knock. Knock. Knock.

 A firm, impatient knock echoed through the wooden door of Miss Tina's office.

 "Miss Tina, come in," she called out sharply, not looking up from her computer.

 The doorknob turned slowly, and Peter stepped inside. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, then walked toward her desk with slow, deliberate steps. Miss Tina finally lifted her eyes from her work, her fingers pausing over the keyboard.

 She watched him approach, her expression unreadable.

 "Peter," she said, her voice cold. "I asked you to be here as soon as school closed. Now, it's almost time for me to leave."

 Peter's face remained blank, his emotions hidden behind a calm mask. When he spoke, his voice was low and steady.

 "I had other things to finish first, Miss Tina."

 Her eyes flashed with anger. Without warning, she slammed her hands down on the desk and stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. She pointed a finger at him, her voice rising.

 "So your own business is more important than me calling you here? Are you stupid, boy?"

 Peter met her gaze, his own anger simmering beneath the surface. But he kept his voice controlled.

 "No, Miss Tina. I'm not stupid. I'm sorry for not coming earlier."

 She scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief.

 "Huh! What will 'sorry' do now? Look at you! Do you think an apology fixes everything? I called you here to talk about your grades—and your disrespectful attitude. And here you are, showing even more of that same attitude!"

 Peter took a slow breath, forcing himself to stay calm.

 "I'm sorry again. So, can I go now?"

 His calm tone only made her angrier. Her face twisted with fury as she stepped around the desk, closing the distance between them. Her eyes were cold, her voice sharp.

 "Sorry won't save you from punishment."

 Peter frowned slightly. "What punishment are you talking about, ma?"

 Miss Tina smirked. "Kneel down. I'm going to get the cane. Thirty strokes—that'll teach you some respect."

 A slow, humorless smile spread across Peter's lips.

 "Miss Tina, let's not even try that, alright? I've apologized. That should be enough."

 Her hand moved faster than he expected.

 SLAP!

 The sharp sound of her palm striking his cheek echoed in the office. But Peter didn't flinch. He didn't move. He just stood there, taking the hit without a single reaction.

 Miss Tina's anger burned hotter.

 "You are a very stupid boy, Peter. I said, kneel down!"

 Peter's expression remained blank. He simply shook his head.

 SLAP!

 Another hit. Still, he didn't react.

 "I said kneel down NOW!" she screamed.

 Peter's face was like stone—no tears, no anger, nothing. Just another slow shake of his head.

 SLAP!

 This time, the slap was harder, stronger. His head jerked slightly from the force, but he still didn't move.

 Then, slowly, he lifted his eyes.

 Their gazes locked.

 When he spoke, his voice was no longer calm. It was dark. Dangerous.

 "Miss Tina… or rather, Tina… are you satisfied now that you've pissed me off?"

 She laughed, a mocking sound.

 "Oh? Oh! So now you don't even have respect? You're calling me by my name?"

 Peter exhaled sharply.

 "I'm leaving, Tina. Thank your stars I'm in a good mood today."

 He turned and walked toward the door.

 But then, her voice cut through the air like a knife.

 "You know what? I don't blame you, boy. I blame your stupid parents. They didn't train you well."

 Peter froze.

 His entire body went still.

 Then, slowly, he turned back around.

 His expression was darker than before. His voice was quiet, but deadly.

 "What did you just say?"

 Miss Tina smirked.

 "Oh? Did I hit a nerve? I said your stupid parents didn't raise you right. Unlike real parents."

 The moment the words left her mouth, Peter moved.

 In three quick steps, he was in front of her.

 "You shouldn't have done that," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

 She laughed. "Stupid boy."

 Then—

 "AH!"

 Peter grabbed her arms, his grip like iron.

 "I would have stayed silent if it was just me you insulted," he growled. "But since you brought my parents into this… I'm going to show you exactly what I am."

 He tightened his hold.

 Miss Tina gasped in pain.

 "Let go of me!" she screamed, struggling.

 But Peter didn't release her. Instead, he pushed her back—hard—until her body hit the wall.

 Then, before she could react, he kissed her.

 Forcefully.

 Without mercy.

 She twisted her face away, gasping.

 "Are you crazy?! Do you know what kind of trouble you're in?!"

 But Peter didn't listen.

 He kissed her again.

 And again.

 And again.

 Her protests meant nothing.

 She tried to push him away, but he was too strong.

 She tried to scream, but his lips silenced her.

 She tried to fight, but he pinned her wrists against the wall.

 Then—

 RIP!

 Her blouse tore open.

 Her bra followed.

 Her breasts spilled free, round and full.

 She cried.

 She begged.

 "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she whispered into his ear.

 But Peter didn't care.

 His anger had taken over.

 His hands roamed her body—rough, possessive.

 He sucked on her nipples, biting just enough to make her whimper.

 Then, without warning, he pushed her down onto the carpet.

 Her skirt was next.

 Ripped away.

 Leaving only her underwear.

 She sobbed, pleading.

 But he didn't stop.

 Her panties were gone in seconds.

 Now, she was completely bare beneath him.

 She squeezed her legs together, trying to protect herself.

 But Peter just smirked.

 With one strong hand, he forced her thighs apart.

 Then—

 His fingers slid inside her.

 Slow.

 Teasing.

 She gasped, her body betraying her.

 At first, she fought.

 But then…

 Her moans filled the room.

 Loud.

 Desperate.

 Like a woman who hadn't been touched in years.

 And Peter?

 He wasn't done yet.

 To be continued…