Coed Love Story Ch 05

As usual, many thanks to Jill for inspiration and support.

***

Chapter V -- The Deals

An hour later after the incident in the car by the library, Peter knocked on Professor Park's office door and she asked him in. It was a relatively spacious office, containing a small gray sofa by the door, a large walnut desk and a matching bookcase. In the far corner was the door leading to the research lab. He sat down on the sofa, his eyes uneasily scanned the room, looking at everything but Ivy, while she quietly stared at him.

A few minutes later, somebody else knocked on the door. Oliver arrived precisely when she had asked him to show up, such a good pet. Ivy welcomed him in, asked him to close the door behind him and then told him to assume the standard position. For him, this meant stripping as fast as he could and sinking to his hands and knees.

His slightly long brown curly hair bounced as he fervently took off his clothes, which revealed strong arms, toned legs and a semi-hard dick. Ivy slid her chair out from behind her desk to face the couch and spread her legs invitingly. Without a word, Oliver crawled between her legs to taste her, with no attention to Peter, who remained quietly seated.

Although being summoned to the office was a regular occurrence, Oliver's heart still beat rapidly every time he knocked on her door. He remembered the first time he had seen her, remembered how her voice seemed to echo only in his head and beckon him closer. After that first lecture, he had practically stalked her back to her office and fallen at her feet, begging for fleeting moments of intimacy.

Their relationship had developed easily, his submissive nature brought out organically by the commanding undertone in her simplest words. He had breezed through the training phase, eager to be of service to his Mistress. While he understood there was no exclusivity clause in their agreement, feeling Ivy come with his ministrations was by far the most pleasure he took out of any sexual activity. Sure, he dated girls his age, whispered sweet nothings in their ears before taking their bodies, but his heart and soul belonged to her, as she was the only one who understood and realized his deepest desires.

Oliver's tongue was especially gifted, curving this way and that way inside her, constantly probing her the way he knew she liked. He went up the hood that only pretended to hide her clit and then stroked it back down, sucked her with just enough force to give her goose bumps. When he rubbed it intentionally with his nose, her legs opened wider, inviting deeper interaction.

With singular skill, his tongue could reach that velvety sponge in her; her g-spot was already enlarged from her orgasm earlier in the car. He teased it slowly and felt it swell up more. Ivy placed her hands on his head to keep him where she needed him, but his tongue retreated. His lips clamped around her clit and he softly hummed. The beautiful vibrations coursed through Ivy's pelvic bone.

While the guy was working his magic tongue, Ivy stared at Peter, who watched the show whilst going through a wide range of emotions. Her constant eye contact unnerved Peter; part of him had wanted to look away and to leave, but the other part that wanted to stay and watch had become more dominant.

When he got hard again, he was surprised at his own body and then remembered that he hadn't come after what had happened in the car. He played all of that back in his head, replayed Ivy calling out his name while grinding on his face. A simultaneous combustion event followed, he barely had his hand in his pants, but he was coming nonetheless. Shame overtook him; this was twice that day that Professor Park had seen him come in less than flattering circumstances.

Ivy watched Peter squirm in his seat, watched him explode in his pants with the knowledge that she was in his head. He had barely made a sound, so a silence training wouldn't be necessary. However, his reaction time was too fast to be useful to her; without endurance training, she wouldn't get much out of him.

Oliver changed his mode of attack again and started drawing circles on her clit. As the familiar warmth of an impending orgasm surrounded her, she felt her juices coat his face and leak onto the chair. Oliver darted his tongue in one more time to tickle her g-spot, before he attacked her clit. Her hands around his head held on tighter as she moaned her way through the orgasm. When she finished shaking, her pet delicately licked her clean.

The scent of her was enough to get him hard, but with her juices all over his face, Oliver struggled a bit to keep calm. He reminded himself that she controlled the orgasms and coming without permission would have robbed him off some precious perks of his current position as favorite pet, including brushing her hair and sharing an occasional cup of coffee as if they were peers. His dick was firm, but obedient and he'd wait until she commanded him to come.

Ivy stood up to pull down her skirt and readjusted her trademark ponytail. With a snap of her fingers, Oliver licked the chair clean and reached for the tissue on the desk to dry the seat. When he stood up on his knees, Ivy saw he had maintained his erection -- very good pet. She waited for him to finish with the chair and present it back to her, so she could assume her seat.

The walnut desk had three drawers built into its side and the bottom two had modern locks on them, which stood out from the overall classic cozy feels of her office. Ivy unlocked the middle drawer and brought out a riding crop with a wide rim. She showed it to Oliver without hiding it from Peter's sight.

Oliver's cock gave an involuntary twitch, as he grinned and dropped back onto his elbows eagerly, his cute ass faced Ivy on the chair. He had trimmed most of the hair as she had asked, in order to prevent incidents where she couldn't see exactly where she was aiming. Although she had taken very good care of him after the accident, neither of them wanted a repeat performance of that.

Ivy shook her head and got off the chair, sat next to a frozen Peter. She snapped her fingers and Oliver followed her to the couch on his knees and elbows, before turning around and presenting his backside. His neatly trimmed balls hung low and his ass stared right at Peter. Ivy held Peter's face firmly facing her pet, before addressing Oliver.

I: You've been so good today, pet. Do you want to leave or do you want to stay?

O: I would like to stay, Mistress, and continue to enjoy your affection.

I: Do you want this on your ass or on your back?

O: As you wish, Mistress.

She stood up, paced around him and hit him lightly on his back a couple times, in seemingly random spots, but Peter suspected there was a design to it. He didn't know if he was meant to watch Ivy, the crop, or the naked guy on the floor moaning in pleasure with each strike.

Her face exuded concentration, her dark eyes no longer locked onto his own, but onto her prey, or her "pet" as she had said. Peter now realized the term had had nothing to do with his name when she had used it in the library and felt himself blush for being so silly.

The crop started landing on Oliver's butt cheeks, turning them various shades of red. His erection hung painfully low with the increased blood flow and his breathing got ragged. Ivy slowed down the crop then, her ears intent on catching any sound he'd make. He took two more hits on his right butt cheek before saying "Thank you".

Ivy immediately stopped and helped him to his feet. The riding crop vanished back into the drawer, from where she procured a small tube of lotion and applied very gently onto his ass.

I: You can get dressed now, pet, only one more task for you.

Oliver put his underwear, his pants and his shirt back on, and then patiently awaited his final command. Ivy held his gaze, knowing full well they had an audience, and placed her hand on his crotch, where his erection was pressing firmly against the layers of cloth.

I: Will you come for me, pet?

She had said it loud enough for Peter to hear, but to Oliver's ears, these words were only his. Her warm hand didn't move from his crotch, it did nothing to facilitate his release either. But feeling her body so close to him, her scent still on his face, her encouraging words purred so close to his ears, that he didn't need more incentive. He lost himself in her gaze for a few precious moments and felt his balls tighten momentarily before erupting.

Ivy moved her hand to his face and softly caressed his smooth shaven cheek before dismissing him. Oliver left the room, like nothing had happened, and closed the door on his way out, leaving a dumbfounded Peter still sitting on the couch. Once the door was closed, he felt safe enough to look at her again, a silent question slowly forming in his eyes. Ivy spoke as if she could hear his mind.

I: I'm not going to make you do anything. I know earlier today, you got a taste of something unexpected, but I moved too fast. You're not nearly ready for anything I could give you, but you could learn, in time, if you wanted to.

P: Learn what exactly?

I: Useful qualities for a submissive: patience, silence, endurance, obedience... I think you already have the silence part down, but you would need a lot of training in other areas, despite the incredible potential I see in you, Peter.

P: Submissive? Like leather, nipple clamps and whips?

The way his innocent eyes grew in shock was too precious and Ivy couldn't hold back a wide grin.

I: Sure, if that's what you're into. I, as your Mistress, would be responsible for finding out what you like and how much you're willing to do to get what you like, within your limits. I hope you realize that this is all about pleasure. Oliver wasn't here, because I threatened him with a failing grade or with sending his nude photos to his parents; he was here, because he wanted to serve me and give me pleasure, because he trusts me to provide him with a safe space to explore what he wants me to do to him. He enjoys being watched, in case you haven't noticed. As for the crop, he was open to exploring certain pain thresholds and we found his body responded well to this. I know his limits and can push them, at which point he uses his words to stop me when it gets too much.

She paused for her words to sink in. Peter's wide eyes were returning to a normal size as some level of understanding kicked in to replace the fear and perhaps the judgment.

I: If you ever wanted to start something, we'd need to sit down and have a long talk about how things work. I expect you'll have a lot more questions once the shock really wears off.

She looked at the clock on the wall.

I: If you have another half an hour to kill, stay and afterwards you can let me know if you want to have that talk.

The sofa had engulfed him; he couldn't move. Against his better judgment, Peter nodded his head.

I: I need words, Peter.

P: Yes, I'll stay.

I: OK then. Come sit under the desk. All you have to do is be very quiet and I expect you'd be good at that. I just have this one last meeting to get through before the day is over.

His mind was starting to get used to being ignored at this point. Peter's body had practically made all the calls that day, so why not that one, too. He awkwardly crouched and went under the desk, feeling the similar tingling when she had asked him to sit under the steering wheel earlier. Luckily, there was a lot more space under the desk and he found it easier to settle in.

There was a knock on the door. She swiftly rolled the chair behind the desk, sat down and asked the person in. A male voice, unfamiliar to Peter, started talking to Professor Park. After a minute of talking while standing, the person dragged a chair to sit in front of the desk.

They got carried away with the conversation, something involving the next grant application cycle, and her legs slowly uncrossed themselves under the table to reveal her naked pussy to him, still moist from Oliver's tongue under her skirt. As her legs opened, Peter caught her scent. For the next thirty minutes, this was all Peter saw and smelled; everything else seemed to fade away, even the sound of the conversation.

When the person left, Ivy softly sighed before pushing back the chair and allowing Peter to come out.

I: Well?

P: Teach me.

Ivy reached up and ruffled his hair.

I: Good boy, Peter. Off you go now.

P: I thought we were going to talk.

I: We will. When I have time. Now, go.

She gently pushed him out the door and closed it. The trap was set. Soon, she'd be getting a new pet.

***

Her schedule was packed for the following month. She saw Peter in class twice a week, but she was always rushing to her next meeting after the lectures. With lack of time for the hands-on training Peter desperately needed, she occasionally e-mailed him to guide his practice; most importantly, he was supposed to masturbate once a day and prolong his ejaculation time each time.

Ivy wasn't sure how far he'd get on his own, but she had other matters to attend to, and sadly no time for her own pleasure, either. Oliver was away for a conference on the West Coast, which made it easy for her to neglect her needs. She got very little sleep and her waking moments were focused on work.

The grant she was working on would fund her next research idea and help cover students' scholarships, Oliver's included. He was a dedicated graduate student and they had cultivated a relationship that was precious to her. Some of his dissertation work had gone into this grant; at the earlier stages of writing, that had involved a lot of long nights with him lying naked across her lap, reciting from the methods section, while she probed his ass with various plugs.

With the polished final version of the grant on the monitor, Ivy smiled, thinking back to those sessions. Right before 5 pm, she hit the dreaded "submit" button on the website and the grant was in the system just like that.

Once the application was through, she needed a reward. If she couldn't have earth-shattering sex right then and there, then delicate French pastries were the second best thing. The quaint coffee shop on campus would surely provide; the school board had decided against allowing a national chain to set up shop on campus and had instead encouraged a local bakery to supply coffee and baked goods to students and staff alike.

Thanks to the chaos of midterm week, the place was crawling with students. She got in line, all the same, although unwilling to wait patiently until the end of the line.

The cashier announced they were sold out of the pastry, while she was halfway through the line. Ivy growled. Her petite stature and casual clothes helped her blend in too well in a crowd of students, but a growl was hard to miss, even in that crowd. Amidst the weird looks her growl elicited, she turned around towards to door to leave and took a few steps.

In an uncharacteristically indecisive moment, she turned back to rejoin the line, however some giant bumping into her foiled her plan. A wrinkly small brown paper bag fell into her arms and her quick reflexes caught the delicate thing without realizing what it was.

"Are you stealing my palmier, Professor?" Brad asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

He was already carrying two large sized hot drinks, one in each hand; the pastry bag had likely fallen off the crease of his elbow when he bumped into her. She forced a smile, as she reluctantly stuck the bag back into his elbow.

I: I'm never hungry enough to take anything from you, Brad.

But her glossy eyes told a different story. Her blood sugar was at an all-time low and she remembered not eating that day for fear of missing the submission deadline. She staggered. Brad's pupils dilated minutely, assessing the situation, his protective instincts awakened briefly.

B: How about you accept this bag of pastry from me? My treat. I see two seats that just opened up in the corner, come quickly.

Towering over Ivy, Brad guided her to the corner table through the crowds. He gave her one of the steaming hot drinks, loaded with caffeine and sugar. If it had been meant initially for someone else, that remained unspoken. There was no word exchange between them for the following few minutes, where Ivy devoured the extra flaky palmier and washed it down with the fancy coffee.

Color came back into her face as her heart started pumping a little faster and her eyes assumed their usual predatory gaze, either out of habit or due to the presence of another predator around her, who was now watching her intently. She finally felt like herself enough to make her move.

I: I hear you have you rather large claws dug deep into my new plaything.

B: Whoever it is, I can assure you, they enjoy everything I do to them, which is more than I can say for your "pets".

I: Ahh, the empty male bravado. I'm glad it still works for you when ensnaring naïve little girls.

B: It fares well with seasoned cougars, too.

He spoke with a smug smirk on his handsome face. The earlier notes of concern in his voice were completely gone, now he sounded like he could pounce at any moment.

I: I want you to leave Peter alone.

B: Little Peter? My interest in him is purely psychological, I assure you. And if you want his wimpy ass, your standards must be lower than what I hear.

I: I thought you'd know by know that pleasure and pain can both be purely psychological. But maybe you're just an average dick with a single gear, who can't even comprehend that, despite your "extensive" experience in the field.

She couldn't stop herself from making air quotes as she said "extensive". It was too hard to take this man-child seriously, no matter how much he boasted.

"Don't make the mistake of underestimating me, Professor" Brad said in a low growl. He had meant for it to come out as a threat, but it didn't come out as confident as he would have liked. More silence ensued, as they both had more of the coffee -- they needed to pick their words carefully. In an attempt to recover the upper hand, Brad spoke again.

B: I must admit, I'm curious to see you wield some of the props I've only seen the marks of. It's kind of fascinating to imagine you asserting such authority, when I know I could have you eating out of the palm of my hand after one orgasm.

I: Aren't you worried I could revoke your athletic scholarship for propositioning me?

B: I'm more worried about costing you that tenure position for whipping students.

I: I'm surprised you care about my position, but don't flatter yourself, thinking you could affect my career.

B: Oh I care more than you know.

Brad paused for dramatic effect and drank more coffee. He saw an opening and he took his shot.

B: How about a deal, Professor Park? I'll leave little Peter alone if you let me fuck your brains out.

I: How about I make Peter fuck you instead? I'd enjoy that a lot more.

B: You know he'll never get it up long or hard enough to do that.

His laugh that followed was sincere. His next words, however, dripped with pity.

B: He probably comes just by looking at you.

I: He does seem to have issues controlling his ejaculation, no thanks to you.

B: Then this could be a great endurance practice, as you would call it. I'll show him how a real man handles his business.

Ivy's eyes narrowed. This proposal had some potential, but she wondered how far she would have to go to truly discipline Peter and what that would do to her.

I: This would surely drive him to his breaking point. What's in it for you, if you won't be able to bully him anymore after this?

B: I'll know the sounds you make when your body convulses with the waves of pleasure that I give you. That feeling is far better than knowing that little Peter is out there, afraid of his own shadow. There are always more Peters. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone you let your guard down, as long as you promise to behave and put in a good word with the admissions office; my little brother just applied to transfer here.