Revenge Is Sweet 13

I hear you drive away from the motel. You have said that you will not be back until noon tomorrow. You have told me that I had better be ready for you when you return. You want my pussy juices dripping with anticipation, ready to receive your rampant cock. You have promised me that you will enter me even if it is as dry as a stick; it is my choice to feel pain or pleasure when you do.

I lay tied to the bed in the middle of the room, naked, my legs and arms spread-eagle, fearful that you will not return for me and that I will eventually be discovered in this pose. You have demanded that I submit completely to you if I want to graduate; and that was something which I really did want.

I think about how we met. I had registered as a student in your class four years ago. I challenged you with some wisecrack aside, as I had done with all of my other professors, but unlike them, you seemed angry when the class giggled at my comments. You looked at me coldly and I felt the chill reach where I was sitting in the back of the room. I knew then that I was in trouble and that things would go badly for me if I ever fell into your hands.

I found it difficult to apologize though and, knowing this, it was the first thing that you made me do when I came to your office, needing to explain why I had bought the paper that I had submitted for my final assignment. It seems that you had read the same essay five years before. Yes, your memory is long; you forget nothing; you forgive even less.

You made me strip down to my underwear, kneel before you with my hands behind my head and tell you that I was sorry for my conduct in your class all those years before! You made me tell you that I am a cheat and a liar and a show-off and a big-breasted, fucking slut who deserved to be sent away from the university in disgrace, unable to graduate and losing out on a lucrative postgraduate scholarship. You did not believe me that this was the first time that I had done anything like this. You called into question all of my other grades and the basis on which I had received my scholarship to do graduate studies at Yale.

My heart beat wildly when I saw you take up the pair of scissors. I pulled away when you reached for my left breast and only leaned back toward you when you raised your brow questioningly. You eased the cloth of my bra away and cut a hole in the material exposing my nipple, areola and much of my breast. To my everlasting chagrin, my nipple hardened instantly. You did the same with my right breast and then surveying your handiwork, you twisted my nipples savagely as if you wished to tear them off my body. You sneered meanly at me.

"Get up and spread your legs, you little bitch!"

I obeyed quickly because the first thing that you had said to me when I came to your office half an hour before was that if I hoped to even have a chance to resubmit my paper, I had to obey you immediately and without question.

I could NOT believe that I had allowed myself to fall into this trap. It really was the first time that I had done anything like this; and so I had done it clumsily and got caught. I had imagined that I would have had to suck your cock and perhaps endure a spanking and most likely, a hard fucking, and I thought that I was fine with that; but now that you seemed to be preparing yourself to make these demands on my body this didn't seem to be such a good deal after all.

You reached between my legs and cut away the sodden material at my crotch and played with my swollen, slimy pussy lips. I was now effectively in a pair of crotchless panties and matching cut-out bra with you finger fucking me. I couldn't look at you. I was too ashamed.

You pushed me back to my knees in front of you.

"Open wide, you little whore," you barked at me, reaching for your flies.

I did, wondering how I got to be a whore; and you grabbed my hair, forcing my head back and my mouth open. You did not care that I was in pain. You stuffed your thick, naked cock into my mouth and began raping my face savagely.

"Do not bite me," you warned as you plowed deeper into my throat, ignoring my desperate gagging. I smelled the pungent odor of your crotch and began to tear up, wondering if going to Yale would be worth all this; because I knew, even then, that you would be far from done with me once you had cum.

Mercifully, you came after a few minutes and I remember feeling as if I was drowning in the copious amounts of cum that you released directly into my throat.

"Please, Professor R..." I whispered, already broken.

"Shut the fuck up and bend face down over that desk!"

You slapped my rump hard; and apparently liking how it jiggled, hit me again. I cried out in pain, but I knew that no one could hear me, because we were alone in the building.

You tore away my panties savagely and, spread my butt cheeks painfully, sticking your finger into my anus and wiggling it around! I screamed out in pain and tried to get up, but you simply pressed me down roughly with your free hand, pulled your digit out and pushed it back in immediately along with another finger.

"I'll teach you to wiggle your ass at me, bitch" you muttered angrily, alternately slapping my cheeks and raping my asshole with your fingers.

You made me clean your fingers in my mouth before ordering me to get dressed.

I looked at you hopefully, believing that now that you had degraded me by forcing me to suck my own shit from your fingers that we were even. I prayed that you would now let my grandstanding in your class two years ago be thing of the past.

"You are going to drive with me to the Sanford motel, Cinnamon," you said quietly.

I opened my mouth to protest that it was late and that someone would miss me.

"Don't even try that, I know that no one will be waiting for you at home. Don't think that I haven't been watching you all this time," you said, shocking me further.

So here I am, with my legs spread wide, flat on my back in the middle of a bed in a second-rate motel in a seedy part of town. No one knows us here. No one will care that you have stuffed a vibrator into my ass and left it on. I have already creamed myself twice for your viewing pleasure, but you are not satisfied; you want to strip me of my pride completely. You want to prove to me who the Master of your class always was. You want to destroy me, leaving me unable to every hold my head up as an equal to any man ever again in my life.

I am starving, but the vibrator in my ass has ensured that I am also exhausted and so I fall asleep at some point. You awaken me by placing two clamps on my nipples and slapping my breast hard. You dip your finger into the sticky fluid pooled in my cunt.

"Good girl," you say, unexpectedly.

You kneel between my thighs and reach for your flies. You wear no boxers and you pull your hard, thick cock out of your pants and point it at me.

I turn my face away in disgust thinking that you were going to give me a golden shower.

"You look at me when I'm fucking you, you cheating, little slut!," you say angrily.

You plow into my body, without ceremony; and ream out my slick, juicy pussy with your angry tool. I am so wet that you keep slipping out and you cling to my painfully clamped breasts to give yourself some purchase.

I scream into the pillow that you hold over my face; and it occurs to me that you could take it into your head to smother me! I decide then to cooperate with you fully, in fact, I will flirt with you in order to appease your rage. I thrust my hips at you, riding you as you ride me. It is a miscalculation.

"You nasty little slut!" you exclaim. "You like being raped by old white men, don't you, bitch?"

You slap my breasts hard with each thrust of your pelvis, seeming to want to break your own back to push into me with your ultimate force. You cum with such power that you break into tears!

You lie on top of me for a long time, apparently listening to me struggle to breathe under your weight. I am genuinely afraid of you, so I try to relax and not disturb you, despite my discomfort.

You get up eventually, wipe your now flaccid penis in my hair, and dress yourself.

"Okay, Cinnamon, I will give you an extension," you say surprisingly gently. "Submit that paper in one week."

Your voice hardens, "The most that is possible for you now is a pass, but you'll have to work very hard for that, you nasty little cunt. See me in my office this afternoon so that I can give you your new assignment," you say as you walk through the door, leaving it wide open so that someone will find me, eventually...

I sit subdued in your office, waiting for you to allow me in. I see your Research Assistant, looking at me curiously. I know that I seem defeated and yet so desperate to see you today. I have been here for two hours already and I dare show no signs of outrage. The truth is that I am thoroughly ashamed. Today has been the worst of my life and I know that it is not over.

~~~

Someone did find me where you left me in that motel room. It was the "security" guard and he was no gentleman. He had been sent to investigate when the motel's manager received a report of a room door being left wide open, and that there was a curious sound of piteous crying coming from within. He photographed everything: my face, my breasts, my spread legs, a close-up of my leaking pussy, He played with my breasts and nipples after removing the clamps that you left. I will never forget how desperate I was to push my nipples between his lowering lips so that he could cool them with his tongue.

He left me as well. He went to tell his boss that there was nothing wrong with the room. He returned and used me again. He didn't even bother to wipe away your now sticky cum. The darker side of my humour rose in my mind as I thought about the fact that I had never before met a man who didn't care about being sloppy seconds. I thought that my hip would dislocate as he wedged his bulk between my thighs and rode me until he relieved the pressure in his balls. I cried as he fucked me because I knew that none of this would ever reach the police since I was really working to save my career and my life.

The irony of the thought that I was working for my career by lying on my back and spreading my legs was not lost on me. I had never thought that I would go the way of the type of woman whom I despise. It was to escape the fate of seeing myself as weak, as a slut and dependent on men that I studied so hard to make it through college so brilliantly; but I made one mistake, and it has cost me my self-respect, my sense of purpose; everything.

You escort your last appointment through the door, dismiss your Research Assistant while ushering me into your office. You lock the door and stand staring at me. I can barely look at you.

"Take off your clothes, Cinnamon," you say curtly.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply, steeling myself to obey you.

"Do it now girl," you say sharply. "Strip yourself and get on your knees with your hands clasped behind your head... back straight, head bowed."

I obey.

"Where are your clamps?" you ask.

"In my bag, Sir," I mumble.

"Good girl," you reply. "Go and put them on and then resume your pose."

Tears come to my eyes. My nipples are already so very painful and I know that you will not let me out of this even if I beg you to do so. I try to coax them out so that I can clamp them but they refuse to bud willingly. You become angry and shout at me. You tell me that if I do not clamp my nipples immediately that you will beat my buttocks with your belt until I bleed.

I clamp them and double over with the pain, but you force me to resume my submissive pose for you. You do not seem to care that I am crying and that my nose is leaking. You actually smile more whenever you look at my face. You lecture me again about the sins of cheating and tell how lucky I am that you are a generous man who is willing to correct me now for my own good. You remind me that I have a potentially brilliant career but that I have put it in serious jeopardy with my lying, whoring and cheating ways. You make me confess again that I am a big-breasted, show-off and a cheat. You take a photograph of me, showing it to me and promising that I will next see it on the Net.

You make me suck your cock and bring you to another massive orgasm before you order me to rise and bend, face-down over your desk. You pull an anal plug out of your drawer and push it into my body. It goes in more easily than you expect because of the work of the security guard earlier in the day, but not knowing that, you frown.

"You nasty little bitch!" you exclaim. "Who have you been letting up your arse? From now on, you are my bitch! Do you hear me? You are to let no one else near your body because you belong to me, slut. You are to obey and service only me, unless I feel generous and offer you to one of my friends. Only then will you entertain any other man in your body. Do you understand, bitch?"

"Yes, Sir," I whisper, oddly gratified that despite everything, you have claimed me as your own.

You slap my rump hard with your hand and rub the sting into my fleshy behind. You reach under me and lift me onto your newly erect penis. You force me down and stuff my body to the hilt by your thick, long cock, rutting hungrily. You frig my swollen, slimy pussy lips with your fingers and groan into my ear, "You want your Daddy, baby?"

I moan at your words and push back up against you. This time, you do not stop, but push back at me even harder. Your hands slip to my hips and you grip them punishingly. There will be marks later, I know. You plow into my slick pussy desperately. You moan and groan loudly. You stab me with your spear, impaling me again and again. You lift my body off the floor with your angry ramming, a testament to the power of your lust and the strength of your frustrated desire for me.

I claw wildly at the desk for support, but you do not let up and you hammer my thighs and abdomen into the hard wood until you cum again. This time it is not as massive as your first orgasm, but you seem to enjoy it just as much and for that I am happy. You nuzzle my ear briefly and press your lips to my back ever so slightly as you pull out of my body.

"Get dressed," you say curtly, reaching for your clothes. "I have to go home."

I am too afraid to remind you that you have not given me my new assignment despite my obedience. I look at you pleadingly. You understand what I want but you do not give me relief.

You confiscate my bra and panties, putting them in your laptop case. You throw my skirt and blouse at me and again order me to dress myself. I do so quickly. We see the knob turn and hear a timid knock on the door when the knob does not yield.

"Daddy?" a young woman's inquiring voice.

You look into my eyes, challenging me, and step away to open the door to your daughter. She is a beauty. She smiles at me and waves. How old is she? Eighteen? Not that much younger than I am. Her confidence is restored in seeing you.

"I have to go now, Cinnamon," you say pleasantly in your lecturer voice. "But why don't you come back tomorrow, same time. We can discuss this project further."

"Yes Sir," I say. "I'll be better prepared."

"Good," you reply, your voice hardening just a shade.

I wait until I see your Research Assistant leaves the building before leaving my car and coming to you. I hope that you will appreciate my discretion. I knock at your door, gently.

"Come in," you say, curtly.

I enter the room and stand quietly by the door. Already, my breathing is becoming shallow and my nipples have hardened at the mere sight of you. You stand there reading an article from one of the journals on your shelf. You acknowledge my presence.

"Lock the door you moron and take your clothes off. Why do you think you're here?"

I take my clothes off. It is not hard. I am wearing no underwear because, instinctively, I know that they are a thing of the past for me where you are concerned. I stand there, my eyes on the carpet in your office, my body hunched trying to hide myself without appearing to do so.

"Get on your knees, you cheating, cock-sucking little whore!" you growl at me.

I comply immediately.

"Now crawl to me like the bitch that you are."

I crawl to you on all fours but you keep moving away and you lead me all over the room, sometimes leading me on and watching my breasts swing from the front and at other times watching the swing of my haunches from the rear.

"You would look so nice wearing a collar and a leash, bitch" you say appreciatively. Your voice hardens slightly, "Buy them for our session tomorrow afternoon."

"Yes, Sir. I will," I whisper.

"Of course you will. You are not doing me any favours here. I am the one doing you a favour by not exposing you!"

With horror, I can see when the idea forms in your head.

"Get up you filthy whore," you bark at me. "Go and stand by the window."

I know what you want, but I am too afraid to be seen and I look at you pleadingly.

"Please, Professor R..." I whisper tearfully, shaking my head and covering my breasts with my hands.

"Shut your filthy, lying mouth, bitch and press those big boobies and your nose against that window!" you bark at me again, cutting my pleas off.

I approach the window, calculating that the risk of being seen is fairly small, though not non-existent, because of the time of the day. It would only take one person to glance up though, and I would be ruined. I hope that you will see that you would be ruined too if I am seen, and so you will think better of this and let me preserve some of my modesty after a quick flash of the road below. You are a man possessed though, and you simply approach me, grabbing my arm and pushing me before you roughly, you force me to press my naked breasts and face to the window, giving an obscene and unobstructed view of my upper body to anyone who cared to look at it from the street below.

You pin me there savagely and then tear my round arse cheeks apart roughly with your hands. I whimper softly. You squeeze my twin pillows painfully and rub my open crack with the rough cloth covering your hard erection. I sigh, trying to tamp down my growing sexual excitement at having my bottom touched in this way. You groan loudly; knowing that you have just learned something about my preferences; knowing that you have just discovered something else that you can use against me.

"What is it about you?" you ask hoarsely, nudging my ear. "You drive me mad, bitch!"

You take your hands off my buttocks temporarily and struggle with your belt and zip. I know better than to move. You free your weeping erection from your briefs with difficulty. You groan when your cock springs forward and slaps me on my left buttock leaving a smear of precum on my skin. You reach for me again and frigging my slimy, wet pussy you guide your swollen purple cock to my hole and push into my body with one thrust.

You fuck me hard. Each thrust threatens to send me through the glass, but you push even harder the next time. As always, the force of your thrusting into me lifts me off the floor and I groan like a porn star when this happens. You don't let up though and eventually I can feel the change in your rhythm and you become more erratic heralding your approaching orgasm.

"Noooooooo!" you exclaim as your seed erupts into me. "You fucking whore! You fucking whore! You fucking.... whore! Cin! Cin! Jeez! Cin!" you chant wildly before words fail you entirely and you growl and bite your release into my flesh.

You cling to my hips desperately to ride out the waves of pleasure that you have wrought from me; and after your juddering subsides you cling limply to me, gathering the strength to pull your softening cock out of my body. You kiss my back gently, and rub your sweaty forehead on my skin.