My Dark Secret as Mommy

I've been married for thirty years now and I always thought I had it figured out. But recently, something's come up that's left me questioning everything. It started a few months ago when one of my students approached me in a way I wasn't prepared for. It was late last semester and we were working on a group project. She seemed nervous and kept glancing around the room, as if she didn't want anyone else to know what she was about to say or do. When it was just the two of us in my office, she leaned in close and said something that made my blood run cold. She told me that she had fantasies about being disciplined by an older woman, a teacher who understood the rules and could keep her in line. I tried to redirect the conversation, but there was this look in her eyes, a kind of desperation mixed with arousal. It felt like she needed something from me more than anything else. I knew right away that it wasn't appropriate. But somehow, instead of telling her no or ending the meeting early, I found myself agreeing to be there for her when she wanted. The way I framed it was as a mentorship, but we both understood what would happen eventually. Over time, our sessions have become more intense and intimate. She calls me 'Mommy,' and though it's not real in the traditional sense of the word, we're both adults, over eighteen, it feels like something far deeper than that to me now. The roles we play, the way she looks at me with a mix of fear and love, has changed everything. But here’s the thing: every time we meet, I'm racked with guilt. It's wrong on so many levels. She's one of my students, for god's sake, and this isn't just about an office relationship, it goes way deeper than that into power dynamics and control. Yet there are moments when she's crying or begging me to punish her, and a part of me wants to indulge those desires more. I've been trying to distance myself from her recently, but every time I see her, it feels like all the progress I’ve made falls apart. The attraction is strong and it scares me, because I know I should stop, that this can't continue. But at night when I'm alone, I confess to myself that despite everything wrong with it, a part of me wants to keep playing Mommy for her.