My Professor Ch 01

I knocked timidly at Professor Steinley's door, half hoping that he would not be in his office, and yet half hoping he was there. I was about to turn away when the door flew open.

"Ahh, Karen. I thought I heard someone knocking. Come in, come in." Professor Steinley said grinning crookedly at me as he swiped his longish brown hair out of his hazel eyes. He stepped aside and gesturing for me to precede him.

Professor Mark Steinley was one of the youngest professors, and also my favorite professor, in this hell called law school. He was about 35 years old and had a dark sense of humor, which most students did not understand. He was not what I would call classically handsome - his nose was a bit too large and his hair always looked as if he'd just been attacked by a wayward tornado. But there was something undeniably sexy about him, and I found myself drawn to his presence like a moth to flame. I had a sneaking suspicion that Professor Steinley was attracted to me as well, since I had found him staring unabashedly at my rather large breasts several times.

I stepped into the Prof's office, and placed my backpack on one of the chairs in front of his desk, taking the other for myself. The office was crowded with law books, on the furniture, on shelves, and even stacked haphazardly on the floor. Professor Steinley came around a particularly precarious stack of books, seating himself behind his desk once again.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" He asked.

"Erm." I brilliantly stated. I had been planning this visit to Professor Steinley for weeks, but now that I was actually here I was unbelievably nervous. "Well. I, uh, first wanted to tell you just how much I enjoyed your UCC 2 class. It was wonderful."

"Most students would disagree with that assessment." Professor Steinley laughed. He was not being falsely modest. UCC 2 was a class dealing with the law of sales, and was notoriously boring.

"Well, that may be so. But I really did enjoy the class and I feel I learned quite a bit. And you made that possible, so I wanted to thank you."

"I'm glad you feel that way." Professor Steinley said, glancing away from my intense gaze. I may have been mistaken, but it appeared to me he was actually blushing!

Swallowing my nervousness, I pretended to be interested in a book on one of his shelves, '101 Things to Do With a Law Degree.' I stood, moving toward the book.

"I am having a dilemma." I said, putting my fingertip on the spine of the book. "A crisis of sorts."

"Oh?" Professor Steinley asked, glancing at the book. "A career dilemma, I take it?"

"Not exactly." I said, swiveling to face the good Professor, and swinging the door shut with my hip as I did so. I began walking toward my Professor, smiling hungrily, and unbuttoning my shirt.

"Uh." Professor Steinley said, frozen in his shock. "Er."

"I can't sleep because I am consumed with wanting you. And when I do sleep, all I dream about is you." I said, moving around the corner of the desk as my shirt fell open to reveal my lace bra. Hiking up my miniskirt, I straddled Professor Steinley's lap, shoving my 38DDD breasts into his face.

"Karen." Professor Steinley gasped. He tried to push me off of his lap, but his hands ended up caressing my breasts instead. I moaned quietly as he palmed my breasts, leaning into his touch. "We can't do this. I am your professor. It would be unethical."

"You aren't my professor any longer." I countered, thrusting my crotch down against the growing bulge in his trousers. "And I am graduating this semester, so there is no danger of me taking another of your classes. Thus, there is no ethical problem here." I knew I was finessing the issue a bit, but I didn't much care.

"I've seen the way you stare at me." I said, placing my hands over Professor Steinley's, and encouraging him to fondle and caress my nipples. "I know you've fantasized about me, and I know you want me. Tell me I'm wrong, and I'll leave right now."

"You're..." Professor Steinley began. "You're, oh god help me, you're not wrong." Professor Steinley buried his face in my cleavage, muffling his next words. "I want you, I want to lick and suck your beautiful tits."

Moaning, I ground my crotch harder against Professor Steinley's hardening cock. "I want you too, Mark." I whispered calling him by the name I had heretofore only called him in the recesses of my mind.

"I want to suck on your cock first." I grinned, sliding off Mark's lap and onto my knees in the well of the desk. I reached for his zipper but he stopped me.

"The door. I'd better lock it." Mark said, beginning to rise from his chair.

"Don't worry about it." I grinned. "It's late on a Friday afternoon, there isn't anyone else here." I fondled his erection through the thin cloth of his khakis, encouraging him to retake his seat. I was worried that if I stopped for even a second, he'd think better of the situation, and I'd be thwarted without having my fantasy fulfilled.

Grunting slightly, Mark fell back into his office chair, his hands dangling at his sides. I quickly grinned at him, receiving an encouraging smile in response. I unzipped his trousers and fished his hard cock out of his briefs.

I licked at his cockhead, running the tip of my tongue along the sensitive ridge on the underside of his penis, then teased the little slit in the top. Mark groaned as I teased him, his cock pulsing in my hand. Unable to wait even a second longer, I quickly engulfed his rod in my mouth, laving his hot flesh.

I sucked lightly at the head of his penis, sensitizing him further, before grazing him lightly with my teeth. He moaned again, and tangled his hands in my hair. I began to slide my mouth slowly up and down Mark's tantalizingly throbbing column of flesh. As I teased Mark relentlessly, I could hear his breathing getting heavier and his low, nearly inaudible, moans. I was almost unbearably aroused, and was nearly oblivious to everything except what I was doing right then.

I felt Mark grab my head, stilling my movements, as a noise intruded into my arousal. Someone was knocking on the door. "Mark! Do you have a minute?" I heard Professor Winton call from beyond the door.

"Shit!" I heard Mark gasp. I felt him sit up straight in his chair, and I was pushed just a bit further back under the desk. I thanked the tight budgets at the state University for not replacing the old-style desks with more modern ones as I heard Professor Winton enter the office. I was completely hidden in the well of the desk, my mouth still attached to Mark's now-somewhat-deflated cock.

"Come on in Ken." Mark called. I heard the rustling of paper above me, and assumed that Mark had grabbed a document of some sort to strengthen the appearance that he was working.

The door creaked open, and I heard Ken Winton flop down into the chair I had recently vacated.

"Student left a backpack here, huh?" Professor Winton asked. "Students these days, I swear, so forgetful. I had one in my class this morning, he claims he left his textbook at his mother's house in California."

"Yeah, students." Mark laughed. "What can I do for you Ken?"

I began to suck lightly on Mark's cock, coaxing it back to full hardness as Ken Winton launched into a complaint about the quality of coffee in the teacher's lounge. Apparently the budget cuts at the University had forced the lounge to cut back on supplies, including buying good coffee.

Mark gasped as I again grazed his cock with my teeth, interrupting Professor Winton's diatribe.

"It is just shocking." Mark agreed, covering his lapse. "Something should be done."

"So you'd support taking up a fund among the Professors to purchase some better coffee?" Professor Winton asked.

"Certainly I would Ken." Mark sounded kind of breathless to me, from my perch under the desk. "I'd think the rest of the Professors would as well."

"Excellent!" Professor Winton enthused. "Are you alright Mark? You appear a bit flushed?"

"Oh, yes, thanks Ken. I am just fine. It's just a tad bit warm in here." Mark said quickly. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" Mark's voice rose on the last couple of words, as I sucked hard on his cockhead, and he quickly faked a hiccup to disguise his distress.

"No, that's all I wanted to talk with you about...if you're sure you're ok?"

"Really, doing just fine. I just need to finish up on this article I am editing." Again I heard paper rustling. "You'll forgive me if I don't see you out?"

"Certainly." Professor Winton said, and I heard him getting up from the chair. "You should come over for dinner one night next week. Judy would love to see you."

"I would be honored to come for dinner." Mark said, his breathing somewhat shallow and rapid. "Thank you."

"Alright, good night then Mark." I heard the door shut behind Professor Winton as Mark quickly rolled his chair back and glared at me. He looked angry, but also amused as he stared at me huddled beneath his desk.

I grinned and licked my lips, moving forward to once again take him in my mouth.

"Uh uh." Mark said, quickly standing up, his erection a fiery shade of red as he moved toward the door. "Gonna lock that door right now. No one else here, yeah, right."

Mark locked his office door then shut the lights off, before he moved toward me, slipping out of his loafers and letting his pants fall to the floor. His shirt and briefs quickly followed, and he motioned for me to come out from under the desk.

"Come out of there little missy. You've been a very bad girl." I felt a frisson of arousal run down my spine and directly into my cunt at his words. I crawled from under the desk and slowly stood.

"Get out of those clothes." Mark demanded, leaning against a bookcase and watching me closely. I hurried to comply, my shirt and miniskirt landing on top of my backpack, while my bra and thong panties landed at Mark's feet.

"Very nice." Mark growled, circling me. He moved around, inspecting me from all angles, stroking his hands over my lushly curved body, even lifting my breasts and tweaking my nipples. I whimpered as he did this, feeling my knees go weak.

Grabbing me around the neck, Mark forced me to bend at the waist over the back of the chair, my ass sticking up as my head went down into the chair seat. My pussy felt vulnerable, exposed as it was in this position.

"You've been a very bad girl, haven't you Karen?" Mark asked, running his finger along my wet slit.

"Yes, Mark." I agreed, gasping into the cheap, tweedy upholstery.

"Did I give you permission to use my first name?" Mark demanded, pinching my labia. "You may call me Professor."

"Yes, Professor." I moaned. I wondered how Mark had figured out I liked to be dominated, and then it occurred to me that perhaps he didn't know, and wasn't even concerned about what I liked. In response to my musings, I felt another gush of wetness coat my cuntlips.

"You like this, don't you Karen? You like being submissive. You want me to master you." Mark said, something akin to satisfaction in his voice, as he ran his fingers through my ever-increasing wetness. All I could do was moan softly.

"I will need to punish you, but I cannot do it properly here. That will have to wait." Mark said softly, almost speculatively. "For now..." I felt Mark move away from me and heard him drop into his desk chair. "Get over here and suck my cock, you little slut."

I stood and began to move toward him, but he stopped me with a short 'no.' I looked at him in confusion, and he motioned toward the floor. "Crawl to me." Happily I lowered myself to all fours and began to crawl toward my Professor. The way was a crazy maze of books, easy enough to negotiate on two feet, but much more difficult on hands and knees.

"Don't let a single book fall." Mark cautioned. "Each one that falls will increase your punishment."

I moved cautiously through the book-strewn floor, endeavoring not to knock any books from their perches. I was not altogether successful, as by the time I reached the clear area next to the desk three books had fallen. I crawled toward Mark, and began once again to suck his hardened rod. Mark thrust his pelvis forward as I began to bob my head up and down in earnest, sucking and licking his cock with a vengeance.

Mark was moaning and grunting as I pleasured him, and I felt his cockhead stiffen as I lashed it with my tongue. Gripping the base of Mark's cock to control his thrusting, I relaxed my throat and on each down stroke took more and more of his cock into my throat.

"Ohhhh fuck." Mark moaned as I worked the head of his prick with my throat. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Gonna come!" Mark's cock began to spurt, and I quickly drew back, sucking and licking as his hot come shot into my mouth. I sucked him clean, then continued to lick and tease him, since he hadn't told me to stop. He let me continue for a bit, until his cock once again began to stiffen, then I felt his hands tangle in my hair.

He raised me to my feet, then leaned me back against his desk. I felt my elbow nudge a stack of books, sending most of them tumbling to the floor.

"That's twelve more books. You must really want to be punished severely." Mark said, glancing over at the fallen books. He reached down, fondling my swollen pussy lips, and finding the wetness that had increased even as I was sucking his cock.

"Yes, I think it is time to move this party to another locale." He mused, gathering up his clothing. "Get dressed, and I'll draw you a map to my place. But leave off the panties." I quickly scrambled into my bra, skirt, and shirt, as he tucked my panties into his trouser pocket. He gave me directions to his house on the outskirts of town, and looked deeply into my eyes as he made me promise to go directly there.

"If I am not there when you arrive, you are to remove all of your clothing, leave it in your car, and wait for me on the back porch. Understood?"

"Yes, Professor." I said, as he ushered me out of his office. Dazed, I retrieved my car from the parking lot and began to follow the directions he'd laid out for me. On the way, I began to wonder if I'd lost my mind. Here I was, driving to a Professor's house on a balmy southern Friday night, with every intention of having incredible sex with him. This wasn't turning out exactly the way I'd planned it. However, it appeared to be turning out even better.

Mark's house was way out in the woods, down a dirt road and up a winding driveway. It appeared the nearest neighbor was about two miles away.

Of course, he wasn't there when I arrived since I'd left the law school before he had. I sat in my car for a bit, pondering his instructions. He wanted me to wait on his back porch. Naked. Granted, there didn't appear to be anyone around. But I couldn't get my car around back, which meant I'd have to walk naked through his yard, and over to the back porch. I could just leave; drive around for about a half hour and then return when I was certain he was home. But the illicit thrill of being naked in his yard was a temptation I could not resist. I quickly shucked my clothes and then exited my car, moving quickly (but not quite running) toward the back of the house.

I made it safely to the back porch, and sat there waiting for Mark in the deepening twilight, as the cicadas chirped and the lightning bugs came out to play. Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was in reality probably about 45 minutes, the back door opened and Mark stood there, inviting me into his home.

"Sorry it took so long. Professor Laslie stopped me on the way out of the building, and you know how he rambles." I had to laugh, as "rambling" is a very kind word to apply to old Professor Laslie.

I stood, stretching languorously, and stepped into Mark's kitchen. Obviously feeling nervous and a little ill at ease, Mark offered me a drink. I accepted, and then drinks in hand, he gave me a quick tour of the house. Downstairs there was a library, a living room dominated by a large-screen television, the kitchen, a dining room and a bathroom. Upstairs, there was an exercise room, two guest bedrooms, another small bathroom and the master bedroom suite. The master bedroom was dominated by a huge sleigh bed, which upon further inspection, appeared to have been modified. There were eyebolts at evenly spaced intervals in the headboard, footboard and bed frame.

Grinning, Mark took me back downstairs, and through a door I had assumed led to the pantry. Behind the door were stairs leading down to the basement, where Mark had his "dungeon." I gasped as we entered, as there was quite the array of bondage equipment, including a winch and pulley system hanging from the ceiling. I stopped in my tracks, my mouth gaping as I strove to take it all in. Mark came up behind me, and reached around to caress my breasts.

"You were very good about following my earlier directions. However, there is still the matter of you teasing me while I talked to Professor Winton, and all those books you knocked over." He growled into my ear. I moaned and arched my back, offering myself to him as I laid my head on his shoulder.

"Yes, oh yes. Please." I whimpered as he manipulated my nipples.

"Please what?" Mark queried.

"Please take me. Please make me yours." I cried, giving in to my impulse to surrender to this man completely.

"Excellent." I heard Mark sigh, as he led me over to a St. Andrew's Cross placed against the far wall. He strapped my wrists and ankles to the large, X-shaped rack, facing me toward the wall. As soon as he had me attached, he leaned his entire body against me, running his hands along my sides. "You are mine? All mine?" He asked softly, his breath feathering the hair over my ear.

"Yes Professor." I affirmed, feeling my muscles turn liquid as I relaxed against the length of his body.

"The safeword is 'red.' Use it if you feel you must stop for some reason, whatever the reason. Our purpose here is not to hurt you, but to increase the pleasure for both of us. If you feel you need me to slow down for any reason, simply say 'yellow.' Understood?"

"Yes Professor." I said again, gasping at the thrills already coursing through my blood.

Mark stepped back and I heard him move toward a rack I had noticed earlier. The rack held a variety of whips, floggers, and paddles. I heard clinking of metal against metal, and I assumed he was searching for the implement he wanted. Then I felt him behind me again, one hand holding a leather handle near my face, and the other caressing my sensitive nipples.

"This is a cat o'nine tails." Mark explained, showing me the multi-tailed whip. "It is my favorite whip." I could hear the grin in his voice. He stepped back and I could once again hear him moving around behind me. Light as a feather, I felt the blades of the whip move across my skin. They did not hurt or even sting, but I expected that would change very soon.

Mark moved with a practiced hand, swinging the whip so its blades caressed me gently. I hardly noticed when the pressure increased, until the blades began to sting as they stroked across my skin. I gasped, my sensitized skin seeming to leap into flame beneath the stroking fingers of the whip. Still the pressure increased, and I screamed as Mark began to strike me in earnest, the cat's tails burning a path across my back, buttocks, and thighs.

Just as I was about to cry out 'red,' I felt the intensity of the strikes lessen. My skin tightened as the nerve endings went crazy. Mark's strokes were now not much more than they were at first, and my body seemed to float on a haze of pleasure and pain combined. I was crying, but hardly noticed the tears, as Mark approached with a fur mitt and began to lightly stroke where the whip had left red lines.

I sobbed as the pleasure flared up again, my over-sensitized skin sending crazed signals to my brain. My nipples were diamond-hard, and I could feel my clit throbbing in time with the throbbing from the stripes on my back. Mark put the mitt aside, and released my wrists and ankles from their bonds. He gently eased me away from the St. Andrew's Cross, cradling my body against his.