Friday finally arrived for Sky and Bess. One woman greeted the day with trepidation, while the other quietly celebrated. Sky first thought to ignore the professor’s demand that she make herself available for the entirety of Friday night. But Sky was no slouch. She consulted the college code of conduct; then she made subtle inquiries of acquaintances. Everything painted her predicament in the same fashion: trapped by her own foolish actions and with no recourse. “Slave for a night” she lamented sleeplessly all week, tormented by unspecific bad dreams and all because of a copied essay.
Her spirit broken, she relented and prepared for the most odious night of her life, as a professor’s sex toy, and a woman at that. Bess—Dr Drake rather, can’t make that mistake again she quickly reminded herself--puzzled Sky as well. The professor alternated between calling her a cunt and her Dear. What that was all about was not immediately clear to the girl. Friday would give her an unusually up close and personal look at that seeming contradiction.
She prepared herself as Bess demanded. She had herself professionally waxed, everywhere, and primped and dressed precisely as her professor wished. She marveled in the mirror at how little her pussy appeared without hair. The woman at the spa almost insisted that she leave some hair, but Sky told her that it was a surprise for her boyfriend. The woman smiled knowingly as she whispered to her “don’t just give it to him after going through all of this. Make him work for it Honey. Make him do something special.” Sky assured her that she would.
Back home and just hours from the time she was scheduled to depart, she appraised herself in the mirror as she toweled off from her shower: pert boobs around a 36B, always firm enough to forgo a bra, and framed by tan lines. She took both in her hands and pushed them together to make a futile attempt at a tunnel of cleavage and surveyed her little nipples and areola rigid from tension. She pursed her lips and half-turned to assess her thin muscular legs, finishing with a backward glance at her butt. Guys who found fault with her small boobs soon forgot about them after fully considering her rear asset. Guys loved her butt and waist and women envied it, so she usually dressed to accent both, unconsciously walking with an erotic and mesmerizing syncopation.
Though her cheeks were small and firm, her ass filled jeans as if they were invented with her anatomy in mind. The seam dipped into the deep cleft of an otherwise small bum that featured a naturally hairless backdoor, ringed—one sees up close--with a thin pink muscle. Her legs were virtually double-jointed and though they never really were, could be twisted into the most erotically revealing poses. Guys begged her to let them take her up the ass but she never relented in her reluctance to have her little pooter probed (as a former lover called it) in any fashion. Guys literally would beg for her to pose on her knees so as to be able to lick her like an ice cream cone or at least fuck her pussy from behind, but in her mind this was not a part of her to be shared.
She snapped back to reality as she remembered that all of this primping was for the date from hell. She douched just before she was to dress, assuming that was what Dr Drake meant about being “clean inside and out” when she arrived. As to how to cleanse her ass she was clueless and wasn’t about to give herself an enema for anyone.
Never before had she so slavishly prepared herself for a sexual encounter, as she was used to calling the shots. Her nails and toes were painted in clear-coat as requested. She donned open-toed white leather sandals with a narrow medium heel and crisp distressed jeans, a white cotton blouse and a new bra with cotten so thin that it showed through the faintest dot of her areola. The black choker was new to her, borrowed from a friend devoted to all things Goth, and made her feel like a slave or a slut, she couldn’t decide which, but she donned it as instructed. For good measure, just as she left the house, she downed two valium to relax her, although she doubted the entire bottle would have put her at ease tonight. For good measure she threw the bottle into her overnight bag. She finished her ensemble with her short black leather jacket.
On the way to her tormenter’s, she stopped at the mall to buy three pairs of white panties one of which she slipped on in a restroom. As requested, they were a size too small. They molded to the shape of her newly-shaved pussy, curving into her lips, and didn’t cover the top of the crack of her ass by at least two inches. Just get this over with she thought as she surveyed her body in the restroom mirror and pulled up her jeans.
She apprehensively visited an adult video store for the first time, one that sold adult toys as well. She entered and avoided the eyes of the men who were scanning intently the videos on the shelves. A woman was working the cash register, and she thought she could avoid some embarrassment by asking for help from the only other female in the store.
The girl behind the counter, tattooed, pierced and in a frayed pink tube top, with dirty blond hair frizzy from too many perms, smoked and watched her as closely as the men. She approached the counter and asked her for a “sex toy” for a friend.
“They’re always for a friend” the girl chuckled as she looked her up and down, and then added, “waddaya want, cuffs, a dildo, a double-header. What would your friend like” she chided.
She remembered dildo, another word for a vibrator, and said, “yes, a dildo.” A former roommate had several, and now and then she would see one peeking from under the promiscuous girl’s bed sheets. “Any particular kind” the girl continued, as a line of men waiting to rent movies began to form behind Sky.
“Uh, you pick, ok” she said as she uneasily realized that she had become a spectacle for these men, none of whom were looking at her anywhere above the neck.
The girl sensed Sky’s embarrassment, got a devilish look in her eye and grabbed a plain black box while Sky fumbled with her wallet. She paid in cash with exact change, grabbed the package, and bolted from the store. One guy in line who had overhead the entire conversation got a laugh from the crowd when he volunteered to show her how to use it as she scurried away with her sandals clacking on the dirty tile floor.
In her car she locked the doors, opened the box and dumped the contents on the passenger seat. To her horror she beheld what looked like a nine inch latex dick, molded in dark brown to approximate an African-American penis, complete with realistic veins that ran the length of the circumcised monster. The base felt as round to her hand as the circumference of a soda bottle, and the head, though not as large, still was a fat chocolate mushroom detailed down to the hole in the tip. She began to cry quietly as she looked at it, but then looked at her watch and realized that she was almost late. She dried her tears, having no time now to reapply smeared makeup. She threw the dildo into her overnight bag and made her way to the neighborhood of stately brownstone townhouses where Dr Drake lived, in a gentrified neighborhood next to campus.
Bess actually did vacuum her apartment that day, changed the sheets and cleaned the bathroom for good measure. She stocked up on wine and cognac and made ready to attend properly to her new protégé: three dildos (a medium, a large and a long, thick strap-on with the dubious name of Long Jane Silver molded into the sides), lube (KY and Vaseline) and restraints (cuffs and Velcro bindings), a tacky red gag-ball, a clear Lucite butt plug and a long chain of yellowish glow-in-the-dark butt-beads the size of very large marbles.
Across town, in the hours before the doorbell rang Bess showered and waxed herself bare. Admiring her reflection in the mirror, she decided she looked quite good for 31, noticeably taller than Sky at 5’10”, around 140 lbs, equally leggy but with a much fuller 40D bosom that hung in two solid teardrops creating a naturally deep cleavage, a larger ass and thighs, and overall a lightly muscled and strong body from thrice-weekly visits to the gym. A brown eyed dark haired brunette, Bess hefted one of her large solid breasts and stroked the full nipple with a thumb. She surveyed her pussy, waxed and smooth, turned and stroked her hand along the fullness of her deep ass crack, which for her was frequently a prelude to pleasuring herself. Ever a creature of habit, she became so aroused that she returned to the shower for a few minutes with her fingers and the strawberry-kiwi shower gel. One finger beat a gentle staccato on her clit, while her other hand pushed her over the edge as she penetrated her anus with just the tip of her little finger as she moaned loudly from the release. Momentarily spent, she soon felt giddy again, like a teenage girl ready for her first date.
She had just used the atomizer when the door bell rang. Six o’clock she observed, right on time. As she made her way to the door she got in character, allowing herself one more glance in the mirror. The giddy Bess was replaced with the confident and sexually demanding Dr Drake. Her hair hung around her shoulders; her make-up was soft, feminine and understated. A pair of black jeans that fit like they were made for her full ass accented her long legs and led down to black leather boots that came halfway up her calves, highlighted with silver and with a short stiletto heel. Her top was silk and teal-colored, tied in a knot around her waist to reveal her tight midriff and perfectly circular navel, and unbuttoned to reveal much more cleavage than she would have at the college, especially considering she wore no bra to accent her sexuality, not to mention her noticeably larger breasts. They hung full and pressed her large nipples into her top. She wore no panties as well, for she loved the feel of slightly rough material on her waxed muff, and already could feel the stirrings of moisture on her denuded lips and engorged clit.