The Professors Toy

It was 5pm on another warm sultry afternoon.

Virginia was enjoying the heat. The way it somehow made her feel more alive. There were lots of things to be done, of course. There always were. But the warmth both quickened her pulse and relaxed her. The evening stretched out before Virginia, long and languid. It felt like a blessing.

Then her anklet tightened.

It was almost imperceptible. No one would have noticed, looking at it. But they'd have seen the frown that followed, might have wondered about the bit lip. And the cursing that ensued.

Virginia was no longer at ease. As soon as she'd registered the touch in her ankle, blood rushed through her. The pattern was familiar by now. The well known fingerprints of desire. Her pussy clenched, breath quickened, nipples hardened, time slowed further while thoughts sped.

This was what it was like to be a Toy. Infuriating. Consuming. Intoxicating. Tantalising. So very frustrating.

***

Virginia had agreed to it of course. Lost a foolish bet about drinking prowess, distracted, even then by the possibility. And even then, she could have pulled out. The Professor could be stern, diabolical, cruel even. But she knew that he wanted her to be a willing subject. That he'd unbind her if she requested. But she never had asked for such a release.

Sometimes Virginia told herself that it was a matter of honour. She'd entered into the bet, known what it entailed. Other times she'd wondered if she'd lost on purpose. Sabotaged herself, drinking too quickly, too excited by the fevered risqué images rushing through her mind.

To ask for it all to stop would be to fail. An admission of weakness. A humiliation not to be countenanced.

Virginia was strong. The Professor was yet to break her. Or, at least, he was yet to fully break her. The bastard made things very hard at times. But she'd pulled through, surviving each ordeal. She had not failed. And never would.

Or so Virginia reminded herself as the initial haze heralded by the anklet tightening, began to lift.

She tried to move slowly to the next part. Tried not to just grab her phone. Or to to let the tremor in her fingers show as she opened her emails. But she needed to know what it was this time. Needed to know... had to know... dreaded to know... how long it was going to last this time...

This was how it worked. The rules were exasperatingly simple. When the Professor was wrestling with a major task, His Toy suffered. He'd send her an email with a particular title that triggered the anklet he'd sent her. The anklet binding her to him.

(The inside of the anklet even stated, 'Property of the Professor', though Virginia had to use a magnifying glass to make it out - and she still remembered the shameful thrill that had rippled through her when she'd first read that inscription, before blushing, and slowly putting it on.)

Each message was short. The task he had to complete was named, along with the amount of time he expected the task to take.

Sometimes Virginia hated the next bit the most. She had to write back that the Professor's Toy had received his message, wished him all the best with it, and awaited news of its completion.

If she to managed to send that message before her pussy had started to moisten, then Virginia was relatively free for the duration of the time it took the Professor to complete his task.

If.

Even when she thought about it in the period between tasks, it was enough to drive Virginia crazy. To enjoy devising a myriad of ways to make the bloody Professor suffer. It was a fun thing to dream of, but always bittersweet. Because it was informed by the mortifying knowledge that her pussy had been more than a little moist each and every time she pressed send on her reply.

As the Professor's Toy, Virginia was only allowed to make herself cum with his permission. That was to be expected. It was banal. Virginia had even let herself show the whisper of a smile when that condition was named. It might bring complications, but she was confident that she could manage that without too much trouble.

It was the conditions she had to follow when the Professor had a task - and Virginia's pussy betrayed her - that were maddening. Each morning and evening during the task, she was to edge herself until she was about to cum. Then stop.

And cease touching herself for pleasure until the time came for her next edging.

When the Professor's task stretched over 5 days, it became close to unbearable. Virginia found herself overtaken by lust. Mentally undressing the unknown men and women she encountered through her day. Losing herself in day-dreams of what they might do to her.

But even once the Professor completed his task, Virginia's work was not over. It was the duty of His Toy to send a photo of herself that was enough to make him cum. Only then was Virginia allowed to find the ecstatic relief that she craved.

But fuck. The intensity of those orgasms was extraordinary. In the height of her incredible pleasure it made Virginia feel that being a Toy was more than worthwhile.

At least until her anklet heralded the beginning of another task.

***

Virginia cursed again. The summer made it harder. Why couldn't the heat feel less sultry, less distracting, less bloody arousing? She could feel the wetness of her pussy even before she reached for her phone. Damn it.

Virginia opened her email and felt a sliver of release. The Professor just had to grade 30 papers. That shouldn't take him more than a day.

But the relief was only marginal. Grading made the Professor grumpy and demanding. Too many of his bloody students were slack, content to just pass. And Virginia knew from experience that it would take more than just the delight of seeing her body for him to cum in these circumstances. She'd need to perform for him.

Fuck it, Virginia decided. She'd make it worth the Professor's while. She knew how much her arse fascinated him. Knew that it was a (not so) secret weapon, along with her mouth, nipples, pussy, and lecherous thoughts.

Virginia allowed herself to sink into the moment. Now she felt sexy, and allowed herself to enjoy the waves of desire flowing through her.

She knew the edging would start off glorious, then be a challenge to stop. But Virginia had a plan that brought a glint to her eyes. Tomorrow she'd wear her butt plug during the day. And she'd send a message to the Professor telling him that if he finished the grading soon enough, he might be able to catch her while her arse was still stuffed for him.

This time Virginia would give the Professor a taste of what it felt like to work to complete something while being maddened with desire.