Evil MC's NTR Harem

"What are you talking about, Mr. Oakley? I don’t know anything about that," Professor Kendall replied, her voice wavering. She forced a calm expression, but it was clear the accusation had unsteadied her.

"Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to my next class." She tried to turn away, but the crack in her composure showed in her hands, trembling slightly as she gathered her things. Ross watched, amused, as she fumbled with the papers on her desk, a few slipping from her grip and scattering across the floor. He leaned down to help, scooping them up with exaggerated care, savoring the subtle panic in her eyes as they avoided his.

Just as she regained her footing, he leaned in close, his voice a whisper that cut straight to the bone.

"Pleased to meet you, Pink Barbie. My name online is ShavedButthole." Professor Kendall’s face blanched, her already unsteady posture swaying as if she might collapse. She looked at him in silent horror, realization sinking in that this wasn’t a game she could simply walk away from.

Ross held her gaze, a cruel smirk forming on his lips, knowing she understood just how precarious her position had become. She was his, a puppet with strings he could now pull at his leisure. From this moment on, she would have no choice but to follow his lead. Still, he didn’t want to make it too easy. The thrill was in the chase, after all.

"I—I don’t know who you think you are," she stammered, attempting to regain her authority. "Please, leave me alone." Her voice was barely more than a whisper as she gathered the rest of her belongings, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste to put distance between them.

Ross didn’t follow her; he simply watched with a dark satisfaction. The hook was in, and the fish had nowhere left to swim but deeper into his net. She would squirm, resist, maybe even lash out. But it was all part of the process, the thrill of drawing her in just to tighten his grip, bit by bit, until she had no choice but to comply with his every demand.

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School’s ladies’ restroom.

"ShavedButthole," Natalie muttered, the name almost sticking in her throat as she whispered it to herself. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, and she gripped the sink for balance, feeling the cold ceramic bite into her palms. A wave of nausea rolled over her, her stomach twisting in knots.

She fought the urge to vomit, swallowing hard to push the bile back down. The name wasn’t just any online alias—it belonged to the man who had, over the years, sent her thousands upon thousands of dollars, quietly feeding her secret life. ShavedButthole was her top donor on OnlyFans.

Natalie Kendall, once just another struggling face in the crowd, had risen from poverty with a determination fueled by desperation. She’d been blessed with a rare beauty, sharp features and doe-like eyes that drew attention wherever she went.

And born in an era where even the most private life could be parlayed into financial gain, she had found a way to monetize her looks. She’d started on OnlyFans as an experiment, but within months, she’d become one of the site’s top earners.

To protect herself, Natalie had always been careful. She wore a mask in every stream, a simple but effective disguise that hid her identity and kept her life as Professor Kendall separate from her lucrative online persona.

She had mastered the art of allure, sharing just enough to keep her followers enthralled, yet always holding back that crucial piece—her face. Her identity. The real her.

Over time, her platform had grown beyond what she’d ever imagined. Her loyal followers flocked to every post, each contributing to the monthly stream of income that allowed her a life she’d once only dreamed of. One follower, however, stood out above the rest: the user named ShavedButthole.

He had been her biggest supporter, his contributions far outstripping the rest. Whenever she posted, his donations poured in—generous, relentless, and with a sense of entitlement that she’d brushed off as a harmless quirk. Experience tales at NovelBin.Côm

His requests were specific, even personal, but she’d managed to fulfill them without revealing anything she couldn’t afford to give away. She’d grown used to his presence, a fixture in her virtual world, and had come to view him as a reliable, albeit enigmatic, benefactor.

Until today.

The thought that he might have crossed from her online life into her real world made her shiver. The realization that her secret was no longer hers alone sent a chill down her spine. He knew who she was. He had to—there was no other way he could have recognized her here, in the halls of her own school. The walls she’d so carefully built around her two lives had crumbled, leaving her exposed. Vulnerable.

For years, she had thought herself untouchable, her identity secure behind the digital walls she’d constructed. She had convinced herself that she was in control, that the mask would shield her forever. But today, in the dim light of the school’s restroom, she felt that sense of control slipping through her fingers. Her greatest fear, the one she had managed to ignore, had materialized before her eyes.

She stared at her reflection, her face pale, her eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and dread. She had no idea how he’d found her, but she knew what it meant. Whoever this ShavedButthole was, he held power over her now—a power that could ruin everything she’d built.

"I won’t let you ruin my life," Natalie declared, her voice low but fierce as she spoke to herself in the dim light of the restroom. Her reflection stared back, a mix of fear and determination tightening her jaw. She took a deep breath, pushed down her rising panic, and left the restroom, ready to take action.

Every step back to her classroom felt heavy, but she pushed forward. Natalie wasn’t going to let some arrogant teenager unravel the life she’d worked so hard to build. She knew she had one immediate course of action: get Ross Oakley’s contact information and face him directly.

Using her position as a teacher, she accessed the school records, a privilege she’d never abused until now, and quickly jotted down his number. Her hands trembled slightly as she typed out the message, weighing each word before finally hitting send.

"How much for your silence?" Natalie Kendall crossed her fingers, desperately wishing this was all just a bad dream—that any moment now, she’d wake up and feel happy again.

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