Professor Elizabeth Starr was a bit frustrated. She had not had any sex for three months since her lover left town for a new job in a city far away. It had been difficult letting him go, but it was the natural course of life and it needed to happen. In the meantime, she had not found anyone new she wanted to be with and she was growing impatient with that reality.
By day, she enjoyed her job as a professor of English at the local university, a fine mid-tier school. Generally, she did not attract the attention of men, deliberately so. She was a little more than six feet tall, wore glasses, tied her hair in bun, and favored not-very-attractive, loose-fitting, almost maternity-style dresses that completely hid all of her feminine curves.
Indeed, she was not particularly attractive in the face, more plain than pretty, but far from ugly. She was the picture of the matronly, frigid-looking spinster professor.
She was not Professor Meyers of biology, whom all the young men in the school and many of the professors lusted after. And why wouldn't they? Carol had a model's body, bestowed upon her by God and requiring seemingly little maintenance, was pretty, and flaunted it. To say that some of her clothing choices were inappropriate would be an understatement, but such are the virtues of tenure.
Still, with respect to herself, she mused, at least not everything is as it appears to be.
Elizabeth favored younger men---it was one of the reasons she became a professor in the first place. At the same time, in light of university rules against such liaisons, she generally tried to avoid getting involved with any of her students during most of the school year.
Now, however, it was a month before the end of the spring semester and she had taken an interest in---and learned more about---Matthew Harris. He was a nineteen-year old sophomore who usually sat in the second row from the front of her contemporary British literature class.
Physically, he was below average in height at 5'6", and although not overweight, he didn't look like he worked out. He was trim, but not much more. She did not mind the fact that he was significantly shorter than herself. Actually, in many ways she found that preferable.
Despite sitting towards the front, Matthew often appeared painfully shy, rarely contributing to classroom discussions. She occasionally saw him outside the classroom and was usually alone, apparently he had few friends and certainly not a girlfriend.
That would not be the case if the women on this campus knew what I just recently learned, thought. She had made some careful inquiries with the Dean about Matthew's personal situation---along with a bunch of others she was not interested in, for cover---and was intrigued by what she learned.
Matthew had been on his own, an emancipated minor since he was 16. His father had left him very young and was never heard from again, and his mother passed away prematurely. His grandfather, the father of his mother, was still alive and quite wealthy but Matthew had not wanted to live with him. So, apparently, they struck a deal.
Matthew would be emancipated, drawing financial resources from a trust his grandfather set up after his mother's death, so long as he followed some basic rules. He wasn't allowed to drink or do drugs (and any arrest for which would result in termination of the trust) and he had to go to college and study something useful. Matthew also had to find a job in the summers. Clean living, education, hard work---his grandfather's philosophy on the keys to life.
If he could follow those basic rules, his grandfather would fund Matthew's emancipated minor status. In other words, Matthew had a lot more spending money and a whole lot less parental supervision than the average college student, even if he did not show it.
Matthew's financial situation did not really interest her---she was quite comfortable. What she wanted was sex, and she wanted it on her own terms, and the recent information about Matthew that she had gathered determined that he would become the object of her desires.
She decided on Matthew because he seemed quite shy and therefore likely very malleable and his independent status suggested there would be little outside interference in her delicious plans for him.
She would have to be careful of course. Relations between teachers and students were against the university rules, even though it happened all the time. Still, carelessness would not do.
The first, obvious step was that she had to befriend the boy. She was quite sure that while Matthew was not all that different from any other student, regarding her as a dumpy, approaching middle-age college professor. She in fact was 37, but to 19 that seems like 60, especially since she dressed more like 60.
At first, she asked him to help her carry things to her office, and feigned a greater interest in his writing talents than they really merited (a good student otherwise, he was only a fair writer and interpreter of literature), but Matthew didn't know that. Hesitant at first, Matthew gradually began to enjoy the seemingly innocent attention she was giving him.
Over the next couple of weeks, Elizabeth drew Matthew out in more conversation and eventually he became more comfortable talking with her on a regular basis. Near the end of term, she saw an intriguing opening.
"Yes, part of the deal is that I must get a job every summer," Matthew said to as he helped her carry papers and books to her car. "Last summer I worked for a landscaping business. I enjoyed the work, but the company didn't pay us all that well, despite charging a fortune for the work we did."
"Well, have you considered starting your own business or at least working on your own?" She asked.
Matthew just looked at her. "Well, no, I haven't. I mean, I don't have any clients or a way to generate business. I've always just worked for others. Do you really think that is viable?"
"It could be," she answered. "In fact, I was going to suggest why don't you work for me over the summer doing yardwork and landscaping at my house? I have big place and I've wanted to do a number of projects on it but never had the time. I was hoping to do some this summer. I planned on hiring someone to do it. I see no reason why it couldn't be you."
Elizabeth saw the doubt in Matthew's eyes. It wasn't doubt of wanting to do the work, but more she suspected he thought it wasn't going to be practical or particularly rewarding.
"I know what you're thinking," she said. "I may be just a college professor, but I inherited a lot of family money and my place is big. There's plenty of work. I am not going to pay you slave wages. ( She nearly burst out laughing at the irony of that phrase.) How about $20 an hour for a 40-hour week---more hours with bonuses are possible, too?"
Matthew looked a little wide-eyed. The landscaping company he worked for last summer paid him only $8.00 an hour. He didn't need the money for housing or necessities, there were the trust funds for that, but his grandfather insisted he work for his spending money and to get to the trust money. Besides, $20 an hour not only made him feel good about himself, it made him feel more professional.
"Um, okay, you've convinced me. I'll do it."
"Excellent," responded, "Classes and exams are over in 10 days . I suggest you report to this address ( she handed him a slip of paper) no later than May 28, unless you want to start sooner."
Matthew noted it was a bit of drive out into the country, but it was not like he was doing anything else. "Deal," he said.
"Excellent," she replied.
With that, Matthew's professor drove off and it was only then that Matthew noticed it to be a high-end Lexus in a parking lot full of mid-grade cars. Must be true, then, he thought, she does have more money than it appeared.
Elizabeth , for her part, nearly wet herself driving home. It had gone far better than she expected.
What she told Matthew was true. Her place was large, and it was gated and secluded in the country. There was lots of work for him to do, including taking care of her two horses. She hoped very much that Matthew would respond willingly, if not at first, then soon to the games she wanted to play with him. Having him at her estate all week long would provide many opportunities she had not gotten with her last lover.
After arriving home, she ran to her mastersuite, looked about the room, immediately stripped, and masturbated herself to several orgasms in row.
On the walls of this immense room were numerous and graphic images of women sexually dominating, indeed, subjugating men---placing them in extreme bondage, whipping them, raping them even, sitting on their faces, men performing orally on their mistresses. Interspersed among those images were various ropes, chains, handcuffs, paddles, whips, riding crops, hoods, gags, blindfolds. It was where she enjoyed being more than anywhere else in the world.
Reporting to Work
When Matthew finally arrived at Elizabeth's home on the morning of May 28, he was taken aback by several things, causing his mind to reel the rest of the day.
The first was that she was not kidding. While he would hesitate to call the house a mansion, it was a huge Victorian home tucked behind large gates at the end of long dirt road, totally secluded from anything else for miles. Climbing to the tallest tree would not have resulted in seeing another house.
She had told him that she took advantage of a local government program which actually paid her to keep all the surrounding land, which her family once farmed, natural and undeveloped. Thus surrounding the house were overgrown meadows, punctuated by thicker areas of growth. No other humans could be seen or heard from.
The second, and far more reeling experience, once he had let his car in through the gate and he finally knocked on the front door, was the woman who answered it. Professor Starr, the frumpy, dumpy English teacher was not who answered. The woman he saw answer the door looked like his professor in the face---she wore glasses, was a bit plain, had her hair in bun. But the rest of her was not at all like Matthew imagined.
