A Lesson In Humility Ch 03 Oral Exams

Content description: (Skip this if you don't want any spoilers)

This story continues the story of a male university student who submits to his dominant middle-aged lecturer. If you haven't read it already, it is recommended that you begin with the first 'A Lesson in Humility' story.

It is a femdom msub story.

Featured fetishes include: aftercare, boots, light CBT, CFNM, cum eating, femdom (gentle / soft), humiliation, masturbation, older woman / younger man, oral sex (male on female)

Part 1: On your knees

Myriam was sat across from James's kneeling form, her legs lewdly open, naked except for the leather boots she had kept on. This was the moment: he was going to learn to pleasure her. He was determined to get it right and focus entirely on her, even as his prick stiffened once again at the site of her.

"Kiss my legs, boy. Start at the feet and work your way upwards." He complied, bending forwards so as to almost be kowtowing like a servant before a Chinese empress. He began at the toe of her leather boots, feeling their coldness give way to warm skin as he kissed up her legs adoringly.

"Good work, boy," she said. Her approval sent waves of warmth down his body and he responded lovingly, making the next kisses slower and more intense, his arms cupping her well-defined calf muscles. He kept going upwards, placing kisses alternatingly on each inner thigh.

"Very good," she said as she came to the top of her legs. "You are now looking at my vagina. Do you feel privileged, boy?"

"I certainly do, Madam," responded James. He gazed longingly at it for a second, his cock felt rock hard. It was pink and beautiful, shaved but for a thin stripe of brown pubic hair. How he would love, just love, for it to be inside her, to penetrate her, to make her moan his name.

Focus

, he told himself.

"You do know, I suppose, what a clitoris is?"

"Of course," said James, a little flash of anger in his voice. He might be a virgin, technically speaking, but he wasn't

that

innocent. "I've spent a long time looking at them online." The joke failed to fully cover his angry outburst and they both knew it, but Myriam let it go.

"You are about to be fortunate enough to get very acquainted with mine. Do not make me regret it. Are you going to be a good boy?"

"Yes, Madam," he said.

"That's what I like to hear. If you don't behave yourself there will be punishment. Now, you may start licking. Lick me like a dog would. Do you remember how you lapped your cum from my hand?" How could he forget? He felt himself blushing at the memory even as his prick grew somehow harder, yearning to be touched. "Just like that. From bottom to top. Get me wet," she instructed. He complied, tasting her for the first time. It was wonderful, not because of the taste but because it was

her.

He licked just as she had commanded, like a dog licks water from a bowl. Well, if this was a dog's life it wasn't so bad.

"I like your enthusiasm," she said, relaxing into the sofa, "and you can see my clit is out. Kiss it. Soft, wet, sucking kisses. Go on, let me feel it." James did so, trying to tease the little nub with his lips. He reached his hands upwards, taking a liberty and feeling the strong curves of her body without permission. Perhaps it was a bit too far, but she did not stop him. He could feel her wetness building and when she spoke her voice was noticeably softer, breathier.

"Keep going. Move your tongue in little circles."

A muffled "yes Madam" was the response she received, and the corresponding requested circular movements. She gasped and, although James couldn't see her, he sensed her relax and move herself forwards. He listened intently to her breathing, trying to go faster and faster.

"Slow down. Keep it steady. That's right, very good," she said between gasps. "Lick me again, like before. Be a good puppy for me." Obediently, James did as bidden. She pushed herself forwards, then her hands were in his hair. She was grasping him, pulling herself onto his tongue, gasping, fucking his face with her clit. "That's it, good boy, good boy, good booyyyy," she gasped as her words turned into a moan of animal pleasure. Her hands were rough, grasping his hair as she rode out her orgasm, each wave of pleasure punctuated by another gasp. Finally she released him and lay down, satiated. She gave him a lazy grin of the kind he had never seen on her face before.

"That was an excellent first attempt. I will look forward to many more." James smiled proudly. How wonderful to please a woman, especially a woman like her.

"Happy to be of service Madam," he said, as if he had just valeted her car. "Do you think you could..." he gestured to his prick, still standing to attention.

"No, boy. I don't. In fact I should spank you for even asking. We are two for two, you and I. Two of my orgasms, two of yours. Mine must always come first. Some women recommend twice as many orgasms for dominant women as for submissive men. Some even lock their men away in a chastity cage."

"In a what?" said James. "Do I even want to know...?"

"It's a metal cage that covers the male genitals. You can urinate but not attain an erection or an orgasm. In fact, any kind of erection can be quite uncomfortable, even painful."

"That sounds awful."

"Then do not give me cause to put you in one." Her imperious facial expression gave way to a gentler smile. "You will learn to control yourself with me such that it is never necessary. Now, I believe it's time you went home." His face fell although his cock remained standing. Mentally, Myriam remarked that there was no optimism like that of a horny young man.

"Really?" said James. "I mean, I'd love to stay here. To spend the night with you, I mean."

"I'm sure you would," she said. There could be no doubting what he would like to do to her. "But we must be careful."

"Why? It's not illegal, is it?"

"No, it's not. It is, however, frowned upon for lecturers to sleep with current students. The repercussions for me could be dire."

"Well I won't tell anyone..."

"No, I'm sure you won't. However, we do not want people to become suspicious. Therefore you must return to university, go out with your friends. Don't drink too much or you will become loose-lipped."

"I suppose..." he said, despite himself.

"Tomorrow evening you may return." With those words, James smiled. It was just twenty-four hours. He could do that. He began to put on his clothes. Just twenty-four hours.

"Oh, by the way..."

"Yes, Madam?" Something about her tone indicated that she would prefer to be addressed in this way.

"You are forbidden from touching yourself or watching pornography. I want your bollocks full when you arrive. Do you understand, boy?"

"Yes, Madam." Twenty-four hours. He doubted very much that he could do that, with the image of her open legs and the sound of her orgasm fresh in his mind. She stretched out a hand and without really thinking he bowed and kissed it.

"See you tomorrow, boy."

"See you tomorrow, Madam."

The door shut behind him and he set off on the long, lonely bus ride home.

Part 2: A night of longing

James had had a few drinks but the alcohol frustratingly refused to take hold of him. He had been out with his friends, but found himself drifting from the conversation, thoughts turning to the previous evening over and over again. A part of him had wanted to boast, to subtly or not-so-subtly imply that he had brought a wonderful woman to orgasm with his tongue, but he had held himself back, conscious of the trust Myriam had placed in him. Now, lying on his bed and impossibly wide awake, he found one hand absent-mindedly working its way down to his genitals while the other almost automatically opened a private browsing window on his phone. Myriam's words came back to him. He was forbidden from touching himself, from watching pornography. How would she know, though? Could she really expect him to obey that command, especially after she had left him hard and wanting more while she had been satisfied? Even as he wrestled with the dilemma, he found himself playing with himself, dreaming of the sounds of her orgasm and wishing he could feel her hands take hold of his hair once again. In a lust-filled trance, he found his thumb typing in the address of a pornographic website and entering it, his other hand working his prick. He typed in "femdom pussy eating" and found a video of a mature woman and a younger man. She was spreading herself openly and expectantly on a kitchen counter, while the man obediently got to his knees and began to service her. In very little time James felt the pressure build inside his balls, felt the anticipation, he was past the point of no return! His prick spasmed in his hand, erupting in ropes of cum. Satiated, he lay back and caught his breath, but as he reached for the tissues he realised he had made a very big mistake. She was not going to be happy.

Part 3: The punishment owed

The closer the bus came to the town where Myriam lived, the harder James's heart beat. As it rounded the corner and came into the town his hands began to feel cold and he noticed his breath quicken. Nervously, he slipped his phone out of his pocket. 17:53, it read. It was already pitch black outside. "I'm about to get off the bus. See you soon," texted James, adding two kissing emojis. He wondered if that was too far, then he realised how ridiculous he was being. He had given her oral sex! How could two kisses be wrong? As the bus pulled to a stop he got up, and noticed his hands were cold and clammy. He suspected that the truth of what he had done could have harsh consequences, and he desperately wondered what to do about it.

He came to the conclusion as he mounted the steps that came to her house that he would have to show regret for his actions and an eagerness to serve. With trepidation, he pushed the doorbell and heard the same

ding-dong

as yesterday emanate through the house. Myriam opened, today wearing a red top, charcoal-grey skirt, and black boots. Like everything else she wore, it complemented her tanned features, dark hair and slender figure beautifully.

"Good evening Madam. Can I tell you that you look wonderful?" he said with a confidence he did not feel.

"You certainly can," she said as she shut the door behind him. "But you know what you have to do now, don't you?"

"Yes, yes I do Madam." Not usually a good dresser, James had put thought into today's outfit. He was wearing a black jacket over a white shirt with brown boots, a brown belt, and dark blue jeans. It was basic, but someone had once told him that matching simple complimenting colours was ninety per cent of dressing well. He hoped they had been correct, although it hardly seemed to matter given that not even five minutes into arriving he was pulling off the boots, undoing the belt, taking off the jacket and shirt, and finally the jeans and boxer shorts. His prick, predictably, had sprung to attention at the sight of her and the anticipation of what the night would have in store for him. He folded his clothes into a small, neat pile on a nearby table - Myriam did not seem the type to leave clothes strewn about the floor - and sank to his knees. Here, without a shred of clothing and below this fully-dressed, commanding woman who gazed down at him he felt, well, naked.

"Good boy," said Myriam. "Very good." She smiled warmly at him. "You're a fast learner."

"Thank you Madam."

"Kiss my boot," she said as she stuck one leg out. "You are to do this every time you come here, do you understand? Strip, kneel, kiss. I'm sure you will have no trouble learning it."

"I'm sure, Madam."

"Follow me." Clicking her fingers as if she was calling a dog, she strode into the living room. James crawled behind her, grateful that the fire had clearly been lit and the hardwood floors were consequently warmer.

She reclined on the sofa.

"Take off my boots, boy." He unzipped each one, taking care to be gentle. "And the socks."

"Yes Madam."

"That's better. Now my feet can breathe." She flexed her toes, wiggling them a little. "Do you like feet?"

"Not... particularly?" James said, taken aback by the abruptness of her question.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. Around one in five men are foot fetishists, you know."

"I'm in the other eighty percent, I suppose."

"Then I am afraid this will not be as enjoyable for you as it would for some men." She reached for a bottle that was on the table, then passed it down to James. It was a kind of moisturising cream.

"Rub my feet," she instructed, placing her left foot in his lap. It was evenly tanned like the rest of her body, and her nails were painted a deep ruby red.

"Yes, Madam," he said. He squirted some cream into his hand.

"Rub your hands together first. Cold moisturiser really ruins the relaxation aspect of the massage." She watched him follow her commands. "Excellent. Now, begin by rubbing the whole foot." He caressed her foot, rubbing top and bottom with each palm. Her foot was, he thought, quite pretty by the standards of feet. He had never focused on them too much, feeling more attracted to women's legs and buttocks, but he supposed that as feet went, hers were nice. They were fairly slender, with longish toes. They had a pronounced arch and overall were fairly small, albeit in a way that was proportional to Myriam's slender figure and shortish stature. "Good boy," her instructions continued. "Focus on the heel to start."

"Yes, Madam." He noticed as he continued to rub her foot that she reclined into the sofa. Her foot and ankle felt less tense in his hands. Chancing a glance upwards, he saw that she had opened a book.

"Keep rubbing," she said, meeting his gaze. "You are doing an excellent job." He loved the way her accent sounded when she said the word 'excellent'. She moved her foot subtly and he responded to her implied command, working his way upwards towards the toes. "Work each and every one, boy," she instructed. He did so, squeezing the joints of each one in turn. As he turned to the other foot he began to get into a good rhythm. It did not feel bad: it felt quite natural, being at her feet and concentrating on her satisfaction. He noticed that, gratifyingly, she seemed to be enjoying it. He could almost feel the tension leaving her muscles. The experience, in fact, was meditative. There was nothing but her feet, her soft moans of satisfaction and the task at hand. After a while, he chanced a glance upwards and saw that she had put down her book. Her eyes were half-shut but she seemed to sense him looking at her. "That is very good. Good work boy."

"Thank you Madam."

"Now it is time for you to practice what you learned yesterday. Remove my knickers."

"Yes Madam," he said, grinning. Her words might have snapped him out of his reverie but he was only too happy to move onto this coming task. He pulled them off as she obligingly lifted her hips. Putting into practice what he had learned last time he placed gentle kisses up her legs, feeling his prick stiffening once again. She bared her womanhood to him, presenting it to be serviced by his tongue. He did just that, licking her with the flat of his tongue, enjoying the satisfied gasps that she gave in return for his efforts. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he wondered if a good performance now would help him avoid punishment later. However, in the main he was happy to simply enjoy her pleasure and her wetness in his mouth. Her clit was soon engorged and he kissed it lovingly, grinning inwardly at the slight moan she let out. One of her feet lightly brushed against his cock, the toe teasing the head very lightly. He felt the urge to rub it against her but resisted. Instead, he responded by trying to be more forceful with his lips, sucking her clit slowly and deliberately. Perhaps she wanted to tease and distract him, but two could play at that game. The gasp that escaped her lips suggested he was winning, and so did her movement forwards; she edged her body forwards and her hips upwards, she wrapped her legs around his head and suddenly he could hear very little, the grip of her toned thighs on him blocking out most sound, but he could just make out her instructions: "tongue-fuck me, boy. Now!" He slid his tongue into her vagina. It felt so tight! He wished it was his cock. "That's right, just like that!" He felt her fingers stimulate her clit and suddenly... "I'm going to cum!" She sent herself over the edge with one final moan as she bucked her hips against her face, her wetness all over him. Finally, her thighs relaxed around his head and he returned fully to the world of sound.

She lay back, basking in the afterglow of her orgasm. James, kneeling by her side, tried not to focus on his prick which was yearning for her attention. She was teasing it gently with her foot, gliding the sole ever so gently across the length of it while she lightly tousled his hair with her hand. He caught his hand moving towards his prick as if had a mind of its own and he stopped it, putting it down on the floor deliberately. He took a deep breath and tried to think of something, anything, apart from the foot that was so lightly rubbing itself against his cock.

Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, Myriam stirred and brought herself forwards on the sofa, looming over his kneeling form.

"You have done very well, boy," she said. "Now, I believe it's your turn. Are your bollocks full, as instructed?"

"Yes, Madam." James did not believe he was lying. It had been the better part of a day since he had cum, and he was sure that he had a lot to give her.

"So you did not touch yourself?"

"Well..." he began. She looked at him sternly.

"Oh dear, boy. This isn't going to be good news, is it? Well come on then, spit it out."

"I admit it. I touched myself. I'm sorry, Madam." He didn't know why, given that he had masturbated in front of her twice already, but the admission made his face turn bright red. His cock, however, remained unashamedly stiff.

"I see. And what did you do while you touched yourself? Did you watch pornography?"

"I did Madam." He turned, if it was possible, even redder. "I'm sorry," he added again.

"Why did you disobey my direct instructions, boy?"

"I'm sorry I just..."

"'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,'" she said, imitating him. "You will be sorry. Put my boots on. I like wearing them when I carry out a punishment."

"Yes, Madam," he said, crawling to the discarded boots and putting each one on her foot as lovingly as he could.

"Put your hands behind your back and do not move them. If you do there will be no orgasm for you this evening or indeed for a very long time."

"Yes Madam," he said contritely, trying to hide his relief at the confirmation that there was as yet the chance he would be allowed to cum tonight.

"Then let us begin. Stand up." He did so unsteadily, finding it more difficult than first imagined to rise to his feet without the aid of his hands. "I told you, did I not boy, that I am not a sadist?"

"Yes Madam."

"Then you may count yourself lucky that I will be inflicting only the necessary pain." James gulped. "You are, of course, free to leave at any time. Do you want to leave, or will you take your punishment?"

"I'll take my punishment Madam," he said. "Gladly." His voice did not match the sentiment of the sentence.

"'A standing prick hath no conscience.' Have you heard that before boy?"

"Erm... Shakespeare said that didn't he?" He hoped that would impress this woman, his tormenter and his pleasure-giver who, he had to remind himself, was also his English lecturer.

"Sometimes misattributed to him, but not something he ever said as far as we are aware. However, there is a lot of truth to it, don't you think?" James nodded, unaware of whether his agreement was truly being sought.