Emilys Submission

Emily decided to take her professor up on his offer to help students with their research paper. She was completely competent enough to get an A- on her own, but she was one of those girls who strove for perfection in everything. It wasn't that she had some huge ambition that she focused her efforts toward. In fact, you might even call her aimless, because she still was unsure of what she wanted to do after graduating with her English degree next year. Emily's quest for perfection instead was rooted in her need to feel the approval of others—especially her superiors. It was the result of her parents' way of reinforcing behavior when she was a child. So her decision to meet with Professor Manning was less out of a desire to get a 4.0 instead of a 3.7, but because for some reason impressing him was really important to her.

She took the elevator up to the third floor of the Drummond building and walked all the way around it trying to find office 351. The floor map was unhelpful, and if she had just taken a left from the elevator instead of going straight, she would have been there in no time. She was now three minutes late and felt a little bit stupid for the mistake. She came to his half open door and knocked on it apprehensively, not knowing if she should just walk in or not.

"Emily, come in, my door's open," Professor Manning said in an inviting tone

"Hi, Professor. Sorry I'm late; I got lost on the floor. I hope you're not busy," she said without a shred of confidence.

"Oh, you're fine. Sit down, let's talk about the paper. Let me see what you've got."

"Sure. Let me just get it out." Emily fumbled around with a notebook and a binder, meticulously tabbed and neat. She flipped open to the Research Paper tab where she had three pages of hand written notes and an outline of her chosen topic, "Gender Roles in the 19

th

Century Ottoman Empire". The course was an Eastern European history class she needed to complete her general requirements.

"Class has only been in for two weeks. I'm impressed, students don't usually even pick a topic for another month."

"Yeah, well I thought I could take advantage of the slow start at the beginning of the semester. I take forever on these things, and I just want to get it right."

She then began looking over and reading her notes out loud. Professor Manning wasn't listening to a word. He saw her sources and her organization and knew she'd probably get an A without his help. He instead was fixated on the neckline of her blouse. It was still hot out, so Emily wore an airy top. With the way she was looking down at her notes, he could clearly see her boobs, nipples almost pouring out of her lacy, light pink bra. He guessed a D cup. Every semester, there were always a few students Professor Manning wanted to sleep with, and there were several throughout his four years' instructing that he actually had. He was the dominant type. A friendly, approachable professor, sure, but he knew which of his female students would respond to authority. Emily was that girl.

He had noticed her from day one, always sitting up front, with perfectly coordinating outfits that would be fairly conservative by college standards if they didn't hug her shapely body so absolutely perfect. She was 5'8'', had blonde hair just past her shoulders, innocent eyes, a great rack, and a tight ass that she clearly spent time working on in the gym. One of his favorite things she'd do without realizing it is when he had a lot of material on a slide, she would stare it with her mouth open slightly and slowly move her tongue around her lips while absorbing in the material. So many times he would glance down at her and just want to pull her by the hair and shove his cock right down her—

"But I don't know, what do you think?" she asked, interrupting his day dream

Caught off guard, but by no means letting it show, he not only responded, but was going to test her submissiveness out. "Let me double check the sources here. Would you mind going down the hall and getting me some coffee?" There was no coffee down the hall. He didn't even drink coffee, he just gave her his empty aluminum water bottle and wanted to see how willing she was to impress him.

"Uh, sure, just down the hall?"

"Yes. Thank you."

Emily went off looking for the coffee, and circled the entire floor twice. Worrying about coming back empty handed after the time it had taken so far, she decided to run down to the first floor where there was a small coffee kiosk. She paid the worker four dollars to fill the bottle and frantically came back up to the third floor, reminding herself twice to take a left at the elevator. She composed herself outside his door before entering, and cheerfully presented him his coffee.

"Sorry it took so long, I stopped by the bathroom first," she said apologetically.

"That's okay. I've looked over your material, and I do have a few concerns," he purposefully lied, "Why don't you go over the notes I wrote down on here. I'll be honest, it's not great right now, but I think if you come show me your progress every week, we can come up with something good."

"Of course no problem. I'll see you the same time next week, then?"

"Yes, and Emily, please don't be late again." He said trying to make her feel guilty. "And," he added, boldly, "you should wear skirts from now on. Your legs would look much better in them."

"Oh. Yeah, you're probably right," she chuckled nervously, "and I won't be late. I promise."

After she left, Professor Manning, pleased with himself, stroked his eight-inch shaft thinking of all the naughty things he was going to make her do for him. Emily was wet herself. Though professional upfront, she was secretly an incredibly sexual person. She got off on being put in her place and being ordered. She always thought Professor Manning was attractive. His clothes fit his frame well. He was in his early thirties, brilliant, funny, and had cool blue eyes, and thick dark hair. She loved his forearms showing in class, revealing that he worked out. She hadn't thought much more of him outside of a classroom setting, but today she went home and immediately fingered herself until she came, imagining him ordering her to suck his dick. She wanted him, but knew she couldn't do anything about it. He was too professional, so she thought. She was oblivious enough to actually view his advice on skirts as an honest fashion opinion, and not a test of her obedience. She didn't think that he would want her.

She showed up to his office the next week five minutes early in a charcoal pencil skirt and white blouse, with her hair pulled up and three inch heels. She thought she looked like a serious colleague, but in reality, she looked exactly like a sexy librarian porn star. She didn't want to appear too eager, so she quietly stood outside of his office with the door closed. There was a narrow glass window to the side of the door that no one could really see into if they just walked past, but standing there, she could clearly see him masturbating while looking at naked girls online. She was a little embarrassed to catch him, but it also turned her on. She couldn't see his cock, only the rhythmic motion of his arm moving up and down, but she imagined it must be huge. As the time for their appointment soon approached, she didn't want to interrupt him or have him notice her, but she also was afraid of being late. She decided to knock, but stand clear from the sight of the window so he wouldn't know she saw him.

"Just one minute, I'm finishing a call," he said as he shut down his browser and zipped up his pants. He then came opened the door, and Emily's eyes were immediately drawn to his crotch. She was right, he

was

huge. How could he not be aware of how much his slim cut pants were bulging, she thought. She wished she could touch him, and touch herself.

"Okay, let me go over the first page of your draft," he said encouragingly. He had planned to put on a good teacher, bad teacher sort of routine. She handed it to him, and he went over it with a red pen. Emily was a little nervous and nibbled her lip as he read through it, every red mark he added like a slap across her face. She knew it wasn't perfect. Because she had a difficult week with homework, she let it slip by until last night, a rare occurrence for her. He finished it.

"Emily," he started, slightly irritated, "did you even proof read this? I'm here to help with the structure and direction of your paper. You shouldn't need help with grammar and punctuation." Her heart was beating heavy, and she was trying to think of a good response without admitting she had been lazy with it. "Do you even want my help, or are you just coming here to stare at my cock like you did when you walked in today?"

"Wh—What? She responded intimidated, "I wasn't staring at your—. I'm sorry. I'll redo the paper."

"Emily, I've worked with girls your age long enough to know exactly what you were trying to do. So we're going to solve both of your problems. Stand up." Confused, but convinced she was guilty, Emily rose without protest. "Now put your elbows on my desk on both sides of the paper." Again, she did.

Professor Manning walked around his desk behind her, getting a great view of her ass. "Emily, I'm going to make it simple for you. Do exactly as I say, and your paper will be fine. But if you give me half effort or lie to me again, I have a feeling your grade may suffer."

"I'm sorry, sir, it won't happen again."

"Start reading, exactly as you wrote it, out loud," he said as he grabbed the bottom of her skirt, and pulled it over her waist to reveal a frilly black thong. Emily's mouth dropped, completely unable to believe what he just did. She felt violated, but she also loved it. She slowly turned her head around to look at him. "I said. Start. Reading."

She turned back around and nervously swallowed. Her voice was quieter than normal, but she began. In the middle of the second sentence, she wrote the word "and" twice in a row. As soon as she read the second "and", Professor Manning's hand came down hard on her exposed right cheek. She jumped a little and let out a wince, but was afraid to turn back around. She didn't know what to do. "Continue," he ordered.

She soon came on a verb tense agreement issue, and he smacked her left cheek. Then it was a run on sentence. Another hard smack. Seven errors in, Emily's ass was now as bright of a red as the pen causing her punishment. It was becoming painful, but she wanted to take it to show him that she could. The humiliation, and his complete dominance over her made her incredibly wet. She finished the page and hoped that her sexual torment would be over. She wanted to go home and masturbate so bad. She still didn't think that he wanted her, only that he was disappointed.

"Again," he said.

Oh no, she thought. She couldn't handle any more, but she had to. She started back from the top, and clenched her mouth as she read over the second "and" again. This time there was no smack, and she waited a second to see if it had only just been delayed. She then felt his hand on her burning right cheek, and thought at first it would be followed by pain. Instead, this time he gently rubbed it, soothing it some. "Continue." As she did, he brushed his left hand across her pussy mound and felt the moisture through her underwear. She hadn't realized how wet she had gotten. His touched excited her, and she began reading more slowly and deliberately. He began rubbing her and soon pulled her thong down, revealing her perfectly waxed pussy, clenched tight by her thighs and swollen from arousal. He began rubbing circles around her clit and spreading her moist lips. She let out a soft moan and stopped reading, which prompted a quick, hard spanking. "Don't you dare fucking stop again." She didn't, but her pitch became higher and breathier as he continued working her pussy. With his free hand, he undid his belt and unzipped his zipper. She heard his dick slap against his abs after he slid down his underwear. She finally realized he was going to fuck her, and she was nervous and excited at the prospect. She continued reading, as if nothing was going to happen. He began stroking after applying some spit on the head of his erect cock, and he stepped closer to her as she finished reading.

"Don't even think about moving," he told her.

"Yes, sir," she replied.

He rubbed his head against her pussy, mixing her wetness with his precum, and she sighed. He slowly slid his thick dick inside of her, one inch at a time. It was by far the largest, thickest one Emily had ever felt. "oh yeahhh..." she let out as softly as she could manage. With that verbal affirmation, he grabbed Emily's hips firmly and began fucking her, her pussy stretching to accommodate all of him.

"Oh fuck!" she let out. He then stuck the middle and ring finger of both of his hands in her mouth and began pulling against her like reins, thrusting into her in animalistic lust.

"You wanted my dick, now take it!" he yelled at her. The intensity of his fucking caused his balls to slap across her clit every time he pumped his eight inches into her. Emily was getting close and he could tell. He flipped her onto her back and spread her legs wide as he leaned into her cunt with all of his weight. He shifted into an even higher gear and Emily was now screaming at the top her lungs "Fuck me! Oh yeah, take that pussy! Oh yeah, you're going to make me cum!" A few hard thrusts later, he pushed her into a mind blowing orgasm that left her breathless as he refused to stop fucking until it subsided. He then grabbed her by her messy bun, and shoved her onto the floor.

"Give me your mouth, you fucking whore!" The Professor shoved all of himself down her throat on the first attempt, and continued treating her mouth like the pussy he had just been in. Emily loved the gagging sensation of his cock down the back of her throat. She was being so used, and she was going with it. She grabbed him by the ass and took him down to his balls, where she managed to stick her tongue out and give them little licks. She felt him tense up and his dick swell even larger and she knew he was going to cum. She knew he wanted her to swallow it and she was going to do a good job of it.

"Oh fuck, I'm going to cum. Don't you dare spit me out," he grunted. He wrapped both of his hands behind her hand, gave a few half thrusts and then unleashed an enormous stream of cum down her mouth. She was completely in the moment and didn't worry about how long she was holding her breath. She made sure to swallow every drop as if her life depended on it. After about twenty seconds, she relented, and let him halfway out as she continued milking his semi hard cock with her mouth. She finished and then stared up at him the same way she looked at the powerpoint slides in class, only this time, with a web of cum hanging from the inside of her mouth.

"How was I, sir?" she asked as innocently as she could.

"Quite good. But this doesn't mean you're off the hook. I expect you here again every week, ready to work on your laziness. Now compose yourself, and get out of my office, you little slut."

"Yes, sir," she said with a sly smile. She left without putting back on her thong, knowing it would be the source of his evening jack off session. She was excited for next week and couldn't wait to please him even more.

Emily felt happy and alive all that week. Though she frequented the gym on a fairly regular basis, she now had real motivation to go. She also went shopping for more skirts and underwear that she could show off for the Professor. She completely blew off her dates with false excuses, fully submitting herself to this one man's attention. At night, before going to bed, Emily would watch porn looking for ideas on how to be better for him, and she would finger herself imagining him fucking her roughly.

After what seemed like an eternity, it was finally time for her appointment with him. She purposely prepared a poorly written draft so that he would be forced to discipline her. Today, she was going full-on school girl, with a short, red plaid skirt, thigh high sheer white stockings, a white blouse, and her hair pulled back into a high ponytail. She knew people were staring at her, and she basked in it. She had always wanted to be a submissive slut but never had a catalyst to transform her to be. She knocked gingerly on the door, and was told to come in. To her surprise, already inside was another man around Professor Manning's age.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" she asked, a little embarrassed.

"It is," he said nonchalantly, acting as if he wasn't about to have his way with her, "But we're just finishing up. Why don't you take a lap around the floor, and meet back here in three minutes?"

Emily walked around feeling dumb for showing up so confidently and probably embarrassing him in front of his colleague. She hoped he wouldn't be too mad about it. She came back but made sure only Professor Manning was in the room before entering. As she did, she apologized for the mistake and hoped he wasn't ashamed of her.

"It's okay Emily. You were exactly on time, and won't be in trouble for that. But there is still the matter of adjusting your laziness and behavior that we will need to attend to today."

"Yes, sir, that's why I'm here. Here is my paper. I hope there aren't too many mistakes this time," she said eagerly awaiting the look of frustration that would lead to aggression as he went over her paper.

He looked at it briefly, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it back at her. "Emily, we know this isn't about the paper. You're going to get an A, so let's stop this charade. What

is

true, however, is that you are a slut who desperately needs to be put in her place if she is ever going to be happy. So tell me right now that you are willing to submit to me for the rest of the year. If not, you are free to leave."

"I want to submit to you, Sir. I know you know what I need."

"Good. Let's get started then." He instructed her to remove her panties. She slid the white, cheeky underwear down, making sure to bend at the waist so that he could see her pussy underneath her skirt. He then told her to unbutton her blouse, slowly. She did so, revealing that today she hadn't worn a bra at all. Her full D cups hung spectacularly on her chest, her large nipples stiffening. She dropped it to the floor and stared directly into his eyes, waiting for the next command. "Go sit on your knees on the couch, with your arms resting on the back," he told her.

Emily sauntered over to the light green, tufted, leather sofa. "Put this on," he said tossing her a blindfold. Unable to see, she could hear his steps approaching, and could feel his presence. Suddenly, her head was jerked back hard, by her pony tail, and he began a frenzy of spankings, laying into her ass. "Is this what you want, you slut?" he angrily grunted into her ear. "Tell me you love being spanked."

"Ooh yeah! I love being spanked by you, Sir. Make me take it!"

He quickly removed his belt and cracked it on itself, before whipping her with it

"Ah! Yes! Give me more!" she begged him.

He reveled in her spanking session and loved leaving his mark on a girl. After about a minute he stopped to inspect her pussy. It was meticulously shaved and clean, and after her spanking, was now dripping with wetness. He gave it an unexpected quick slap, causing her to jump, followed immediately by a long lick from her clit to her ass. The juxtaposition of sensations gave her goosebumps. He gave her another three licks in order to taste all of her wetness. At that moment, Emily heard the door open and then shut. She heard two pairs of feet shuffling on the carpet, accompanied by the sound of clothes being removed. "What was happening," she wondered, "Why didn't he say anything?" He just started licking her asshole, as if this was part of his plan the whole time.