Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

After a brief period of removing this story from my page due to the little updates I can offer, I've decided, due to popular demand to upload the two chapters again. I will be updating the story at two week intervals (though this is not a fixed time scale.)

I've been pretty damn shocked by the interest in my first post on here, so thank you to everyone that was originally following this journey.

Professor Masen & Bella can be found on twitter, playing out the same story in role-playing story line. Please be warned that they are MUCH MUCH further ahead than what is posted here and contain a high level of mature content. If you wish to follow catch them here: OhMasen & SereneSwan.

Anyway, allow me to introduce Virtuous Punishment...

Fiction banner: .

Coffee? Check. Lesson plan? Check. Wallet? Check. Appearance?

Glancing into the window placed perpendicular to his path, Edward Masen ran a hand through his unruly hair, tugging at its ends in habitual need and smirking back at his shining emerald eyes. They danced with vivid memory from the night before. Sweat laced women moaning in self-indulgence and a glass of the finest scotch. Sweeping his tongue over his lips, the taste of liquor and leather still lingered on his palate, delicious in many ways. Masen's reflection, however, left much to be desired, but that didn't stop the girls from smiling as he strode through the lobby of Columbia University.

If only they knew the kind of trouble these, pearly whites could get them into. If only.

Reaching the reception desk he placed his briefcase down by his feet, which were only ever wrapped up in the finest Italian leather, unless working out. He then stood tall over the woman hunched at the keyboard, relentlessly typing in the final words of a roughly scripted letter.

Clearing his throat harshly, already irritated by her rude gesture of choosing to ignore him, his callous stare fell down upon her with scrutiny and hastily he snapped.

"Mr. Masen, for Professor Billy Black."

Startled, she flinched and cast her eyes up, Masen's own boring into hers with irritation. He smirked inwardly, watching her cheeks flush and then as she flustered around, managing to drop the phone twice before holding it to her ear correctly. Being a harsh man, his gaze didn't cease plaguing her expression so brutally until she was barely able to speak.

"P-Prof- Professor B-Black? There's a Mr.-a Mr. Masen here t-to see you," Her staggered breath rasped hurriedly, into the mouthpiece. "Mhm - yes sir, I'll s-send him through. You may g-"

Lifting an open palm as she spoke to him, her mouth closed. "Third floor, room 306?" he asked shortly. His head inclined to one side, waiting for her to object or confirm. Yet instead, her lips parted- the lower one hanging dry of words and moist with amazement. Finally letting out an exasperated sigh, Masen headed for the stairs, briefcase in hand and shoulders broadly bridged at the base of his neck.

He carried himself well for a reason, for Edward Masen wasn't a typical Professor. He had a past, like everyone, but his was a tormenting and a haunting past. It was in his dreams and his reality and he could only control it in a single covetous and corrupt way.

-oOo-

Professor Black's office was much how he remembered: books strewn and piled in just about every direction, an unfathomable stench of smoke, and a fire alarm that didn't work. Chuckling, Masen looked down at his feet in thought to Professor Black's unyielding ways.

Even the law won't stop Billy Black from getting his 20-a-day fix.

The lecture hall quickly fills with students for their early morning lesson- each of them taking a seat with an array of folders and text books, organizing their notes and stationary. Out of sheer routine Masen surveyed for possible talent, his trained eyes searching for something that he still couldn't quite describe when hunting for a new victim. An aura, yes, something that cannot only been seen, but felt deep within the most sinister of his desires.

A series of lavish stares met his wandering eyes with horror, the women they belonged to shifting awkwardly, perplexed into flushed cheeks and occasional over-eager smiles.

Too skinny, too dirty, too short, too blonde, too slutty, way too young and way too male. He listed off.

Displeased as Professor Black shut the doors- confirming that this was it, the younger Professor turned straight in his seat to face the narrow end of the lecture hall.

Well there goes that idea Masen.

There was a desk placed in the center of the teaching area, a series of whiteboards marked and smeared hanging on the wall, and a good amount of space expanded from one end of the room to the other, allowing Billy's wheelchair to move with ease as he spoke.

This is going to take a while; he's never been one for getting to the point. I just want to fucking teach...

Sweeping a hand over his face, Masen suppressed a groan, his tolerance for this man wearing thin. Not that he had much tolerance for anyone anyway.

-oOo-

Bella Swan's tattered, un-laced Converse padded the floor with sprinting rubbery squeaks. She did not care that soon her hair would be matted in a sweaty mop to the top of her head. She did not care for how her laces swung so tantalizingly close threatening to trip her. In fact, all she did care about was the last straw she so desperately clung on to. Professor Black had warned her too many times before, about her poor punctuality to his classes and today would be no exception.

Stupid stupid stupid... I'm stupid. This is going to cost me my place on the course. Oh, please no. I couldn't bear having to face my parents... They'd disown me! They can't marry off a brainless daughter. Oh, please. Please!

Bella checked her watch.

NO!

With the speed of a hare and the tact of a just born giraffe- all legs without the slightest amount of skill in using them, she uneasily turned the corner, cursing that the door she was about to burst through was already shut. Though she knew it would be.

Slowing enough to try and catch her breath, the clumsy Swan placed a hand lightly to her chest, as if to protect herself from the evident bollocking she was about to receive.

Her free hand reached to grasp the door knob and her heart sank right into the pit of her stomach.

-oOo-

The doors at the back of the room crept open, evoking Masen to turn to the back of the room. Skimming over the heads of fervidly horny students, he searched for the cause of the noise which was enough to disturb Professor Black's never ending flow. The rest of the class looked up from their doodles and scrupulous note taking to crane their heads back, intent with curiosity.

For a moment no one appeared, and the door seemed to have gained a mind of its own. But, as they say, all good things come with time. A mantra and innuendo Professor E. Masen happened to live by.

Blinking sporadically, he watched as a slender frame entered timidly, hurriedly looking for a seat. She stared at the floor, hiding her face as she stepped further into the room. Despite her watchful behavior, a lesson in gravity ensued sending her stumbling and then tripping over her own feet, face planting the ground in a heap of limbs and books; like it was more natural to her than breathing. Masen's upper lip pressed to his lower and he chuckled quietly with the rest of the class. The clumsy body cursed in whispers from beneath a curtain of soft brown hair and slowly rose from the nylon carpet, collecting books and folders along the way.

Walking disaster.

Finally horizontal from the floor, a dainty hand cleared the locks from her features and like a fire doused in water, the laughter was extinguished from Masen's gut.

Holy...fuck me. Ungh... God, thank you.

Her oval shaped face had full cheeks, which were filled with a crimson hue, abashed in waves of discomfort and social awkwardness. Sparkling, doe brown eyes fleeted around the room as she searched for where she dropped her pride and perfectly ample lips pursed together before blunted teeth bit so yearningly into the pink hue of her doughy lower lip. Masen could barely hear Professor Black's grumbling.

"Miss Swan, I thought we had already discussed your tardiness. You said it wouldn't happen again."

"I-I'm sorry, Professor Black, my alarm it..." Her voice was smooth, yet maladroit. Sensing it would be in her better interest to shut her mouth, she shuffled down the stairs, her eyes constantly darting around the room. Wall to wall, person to person.

And then she did it. She went and made the most dangerous mistake of her life. She looked straight into Masen's wild, yearning eyes. Her breath caught in her throat, hot and chalky in texture as she laid eyes upon him.

Oh my...he's...so...edible.

Bella's heart lifted from her stomach. It was shrouded dramatically in harmonious singing and basking virtuous white light, like the teenage fantasy she had never fallen victim to. It fluttered, rushed in a poetic iambic pentameter for this man who had captured her so dominantly with his beautiful eyes.

The high end of Masen's alter-ego was awakened from a long hibernation. He was hungry. Starving, in fact. And suddenly, found himself fighting to say seated, a civil war with his self-control. She stepped into the empty row behind him, and he couldn't help but turn around to look at her as she sat. He smiled. His most velvet and suggestive of smiles and within that second, any of the little confidence she had left melted away. She shrunk in her chair, smiling bashfully. The gentle rose shade returning to her cheeks.

I want her. She's mine.

He decided.

What to see what happens next? Check out chapter 2!