Anything but Platonic

All characters engaged in sex acts are eighteen or older.

Gianna's panties and skirts were laid out on her bed. She was thankful that she had moved to an apartment out of her dorm. At least here there was a little privacy. There were ten pairs of underwear on the bed and two skirts, clean this time. She owned a couple of pairs of panties she had had since high school. They were old, white, cottony things that were threadbare out and probably didn't fit her anymore. The rest were boy shorts, which she found to be more practical and comfortable. She had various solid colors, she considered designs to be too girly and not for her. "Yes, sir," her phone said. It was too early for this.

Dr. Rosen:

Well? Are they ready yet?

Miss Garnier:

Hold on, I'll take a picture.

It was good for her that her irritation didn't show through the text. She lifted her phone and took a picture of her skirts and underwear, making sure everything was in the frame. It made her wonder what he did with the pair of underwear he stole from her. It would be nice and fragrant, as aroused as she was when she was wearing them. Fucking pervert. She sent the picture to Markus.

Dr. Rosen:

Is that all?

Miss Garnier:

Yes.

Dr. Rosen:

Nothing more attractive? Fine. Put on the white pair furthest to the left and send me the picture.

Gianna sucked in her lips and dropped her pants. It didn't matter since he had seen it all already. She pulled down her current underwear and stepped into the old panties. She couldn't believe how tight they were, pulling them up her legs. There was a rip behind her.

Miss Garnier:

They're old. They don't fit anymore.

Dr. Rosen:

You heard me.

She sucked in her lips again and snapped a picture in the mirror, pulling her skirt up so he could see the ragged edge of her underwear. They were so tight they cut into her waist. It was like you could see her kidneys. She sent the picture.

Dr. Rosen:

Not good enough.

Miss Garnier:

What do you mean?

Dr. Rosen:

I asked for a picture of you in your panties. Only your panties. You can't hide those cute tits from me.

The angry bile rose in her stomach, but at the same time she felt the weight of his command. It seemed impossible, futile even, to resist. She grabbed the bottom of her tank top and threw it to the side. You could see everything through its thin fabric anyway, she told herself. She snapped a couple of pictures with her tits out, her small nipples hard and blushing. You could even tell the panites were too tight as fit as she was. Once more she sent the picture.

Dr. Rosen:

Very nice. You have a beautiful body, Miss Garnier. Exquisite. Every little inch shows the hard work you've put in.

Men rarely were this complimentary, though she knew how she looked. Somehow this made her blush more than sending lewd pictures. She gulped.

Miss Garnier:

Thank you, sir.

Dr. Rosen:

No, thank you. I can't wait to get my hands on those tits and that ass this afternoon.

Their first tutoring session was in a few hours. Gianna had guessed that they would be doing more than school work, though it was galling hearing it in such stark terms, as if he were gloating.

Dr. Rosen:

Let's do the plaid skirt now. And only the skirt.

Gianna took a picture of herself in the plaid pleated skirt. She wrinkled her nose. She looked cheap. Of course Markus could call her a whore instead.

Dr. Rosen:

Excellent.

Miss Garnier:

Do I look slutty enough for you sir?

Dr. Rosen:

Are you giving me an attitude, Miss Garnier? I don't appreciate your sarcasm.

Miss Garnier:

No, sir. I just want to know if this is the kind of thing you expect.

Dr. Rosen:

Yes, you look quite the whore. My whore.

Her body trembled reading the tiny words on the screen. She had got him to say it. Feeling this dirty made her tingle and gush, but she refused to admit it. There was no way being a whore was turning her on. How degrading.

Dr. Rosen:

The skirt with no underwear will do this afternoon.

Miss Garnier:

Yes, sir.

Gianna sighed with frustration and opened her assigned reading for that afternoon.

—

When she arrived at his office, Markus's door was open. He quickly closed it as she came inside. "Welcome, Miss Garnier. On time too. Good girl," Markus said. She had felt the spark of her arousal even before she reached his office, just coming inside the old building. She twitched with anticipation at what Markus was going to do to her that afternoon.

Gianna's gaze was harsh. "Hello, sir."

"Inspection," he casually said.

It took a second for Gianna to realize what he meant, but she snapped into position, putting her hands behind her head and standing with her legs apart. Like before, Markus circled her. She was wearing the skirt he had told her to, and had on a casual and loose light blue blouse. "Looking fit and stunning as always, Miss Garnier. It makes me look forward to dressing you up, making you my doll," he said. Her stomach turned and she felt a trickle of wetness, fighting the urge to squirm. Again, it felt odd that the man that humiliated and manipulated her would have things like this to say to her.

"Thank you, sir," she said, knowing he would want to hear it.

"This top is a little boring though, isn't it? Such a waste hiding that body and those magnificent tits under a bag like that. Take it off."

This time Gianna was ready and she followed Markus's directions immediately, pulling her blouse over her head and discarding it onto his desk. She put her hands back in position. "My, my, Miss Garnier. You're getting good at this. Your obedience bodes well for your studies." Gianna's nipples were hard and her arms covered in goosebumps even in the temperate air. She felt Markus' hands on her hips, snaking up behind her. They moved up her body, feeling her toned abs, her muscles being tangible even though they were not quite visible. Gianna felt the heat in her armpits. Markus held her around the waist. "I can't imagine all the work that goes into you looking like this, Miss Garnier. How do you do it?"

Gianna swallowed, "The gym, sir. I'm there every day. I jog too."

"It certainly shows," he said, bringing his hands up to the bottom of her petite breasts. Gianna shivered as he continued up until her nipples were resting on his index fingers. He moved them subtly, and she shivered as they tickled her areolas. Her pussy pulsed wet and warm as he gently pinched her protrusive nipples, giving them a little tug. The feeling was exquisite. Markus pinched a little harder and rolled them between his fingers. Gianna felt like a warm puddle.

"Don't the boys ever compliment you? You have a beautiful body," Markus said.

"No sir," Gianna said. Boys at school stared, but none of them had the nerve to say anything about how she looked.

"These sexy little tits. No one?"

"Boys like big boobs, sir," Gianna said. Her entire upper body blushed.

He flattened his palms and rubbed her. Her hard nipples scraped the palms of his hands. "Foolish. When you get to be my age you learn to appreciate all kinds of bodies."

"They just don't say anything."

"They're nervous around you, aren't they?" Markus said. He squeezed the firm flesh of her tits again. "You usually have boys wrapped around your finger with the way you look." It wasn't a question. This struck at the heart of their relationship.

Relationship.

The word made Gianna shudder. Markus was in control where the boys that liked her cowered before her. It was a combination of her looks, her fitness, and her status as the star athlete. None of this intimidated Markus. He moved his hands up to her sweaty armpits and moved them along her arms. "When was the last time you interacted with a guy who wasn't overwhelmed by you? I mean in a personal sense."

"I don't know, sir," she said. It was the truth.

"Come now, what about your dad?"

Gianna frowned, "My dad left when I was just a kid, sir." It was a painful memory.

Markus was silent. His groping hands moved up to her shoulders and then down her back. He squeezed and kneaded her flesh. He came to rest on her hips, right on the waistband of her skirt. Gianna felt puffs of air on her back. The floorboards creaked as Markus circled round to her front. She followed him with her eyes.

He traced the waistband of her skirt. "This is a nice one," he said. "Sexy. It shows your legs and has that naughty schoolgirl look." Gianna cringed internally. "This is one we're going to keep." Keep? Did he have the audacity to think he could get rid of her clothes? He moved his hands down her thighs and to the hem of her skirt. Slowly he lifted it, exposing Gianna's bare pussy.

She was so wet that the aroma of her arousal reached her nose. There was no way Markus didn't notice. "Again, very good. No panties. Your attire for today is a seven out of ten. Excellent skirt and no underwear. You could do better with your blouse. Am I correct in assuming you usually don't wear a bra?"

"No sir," she sighed, "I don't need one."

"Good for you. The only time you're allowed to wear one is if it's the only top you wear, is that clear?"

"Like a sports bra for exercising, sir?"

"Exactly," he let go of her skirt and moved his hand underneath, rubbing her inner thigh. "We're making some progress already, Miss Garnier." He was just an inch from her pussy now. "Hot and wet down here. Are you aroused, Miss Garnier?"

This again? The thought of this old pervert's hands on her always made her hot and disgusted in equal parts. "Yes, sir," she grunted.

She felt his hand on the lips of her pussy and gasped. Markus rubbed the length of her slippery slit and she fought not to undulate her body with pleasure. His other hand slid down her back and palmed the cheek of her ass. Gianna struggled to control her breathing. "You know, Miss Garnier, what the best thing about this is?"

Gianna, tight lipped, muttered, "No, sir."

"I get to help a promising student reach her potential. You have no idea how monotonous this job has gotten. No one gives a fuck anymore. One's love of philosophy can only take one so far without being appreciated."

She didn't know what to say. His finger circled her pussy lips, sending pulses of pleasure through her body. If this was Markus's idea of help, she could see why no one "appreciated" him. The grip on her butt tightened, and a single finger snaked its way into her crack.

"I guess that's not the best thing about this. It's nice, but not quite the best. The best thing is that I get to do whatever I want to your body. I can finger," he just barely penetrated her sopping pussy, "and fuck any hole I want. Isn't that right, Miss Garnier?" His finger creeped up into her ass crack, gently stimulating her other quivering hole.

Gianna was twitching with rage. It was all the worse that Markus's words were getting her more and more aroused. There was something about his control, his attention. "I said, isn't that right Miss Garnier?" He pulled the hand away from her ass and brought it back in force, slapping her taut cheek. Gianna jumped.

"Yes, sir," she said.

"Glad that's clear." He reached around behind her and casually unzipped her skirt, letting it fall halfway down her thighs. "At ease," he said, and when Gianna brought her shaky legs together, the skirt fell completely to the floor. Now that she was allowed to move a little, Gianna squirmed in front of him, though she fought it. She knew she would be in trouble if she covered her boobs or pussy, even though Markus had never mentioned it. His training was starting to take. She gritted her teeth.

His eyes burned into her flesh. They pawed at every inch of her. Her light brown hair, down around her shoulders, her pointy-nosed face, her tight abs, her firm little tits, her toned ass. "God damn," he muttered. He degraded and held her in awe at the same time. Gianna didn't know what to make of it.

"You brought your laptop, didn't you?" he said. The swift change of the conversational tone made her need to think for a second.

"Yes, sir," she said.

"Much as I'd like to play with you, I think we'd better get started. There will be plenty of time for what I want later. Go get it and put it on the desk." Gianna obeyed, feeling every bit of her naked exposure. Markus's eyes were glued to her as she moved. She placed the computer on his desk and pulled a chair over. She sat down.

"No!" Markus shouted, and Gianna bolted up. "I didn't tell you to sit down, Miss Garnier." Her heart pounded. Markus sat down on the chair instead, and motioned to his lap. She knew what he meant.

"But, sir... if you sit in your lap you'll... I'll..."

"Get your pussy juice all over my pants? Yes, I know. Now we're getting started. Don't make me wait." Gianna went over to him, and slowly she lowered her ass, already wet from her pussy's drippings, onto Markus's lap. She sat on his throbbing erection, and it lay like an iron bar against her cheeks. "Good girl," he whispered into her ear. He placed both hands on her hips and pulled her into the precise position he wanted her in. "Let's begin."

Gianna powered her computer up, all the time feeling Makrus's groping hands moving up and down her body. Within a few seconds, she had her assignment open. Markus's hand moved up her inner thigh and she made a tiny gasp when his finger met her dripping slit. "

Describe the effects of Logical Positivism on Latin American politics at the turn of the twentieth century.

" He sighed. "At least it's not math. Please tell me you did the reading, Miss Garnier."

She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice caught in her throat when Markus suddenly penetrated her, his finger tracing the length of her canyon. She held her breath as he approached her clit. "Yes, sir," her quavering voice said. Swallowing, she said, "I'm taking this seriously, sir. I promise."

Markus said nothing, and his finger probed her insides. His other hand was on her hips, paying close attention to the responses of her muscles vis-à-vis which spots inside her he touched. Gianna was leaking all over his lap already, and she was surprised he wanted wet, fragrant pants for the rest of the day. He moved the length of her slit, coming up to the top and just barely tickling her pearl. "Sir..." she whimpered.

"What are you waiting for, Miss Garnier?" Markus said.

Gianna started typing her answer, Markus staring over her shoulder. Little shocks ran down her spine as he kissed her neck, even licking it occasionally. As she worked, he rubbed her pussy, going to her clitoris, then her g-spot, then every other sensitive place inside her. To her surprise, he commented on her answer, assisting her when she got stuck. He had done the reading too.

As he worked her pussy over with his perverted finger, he pushed her closer and closer to orgasm, and she unconsciously spread her legs. By this time, his pants were certainly soaked. Gianna's body undulated as Markus's strummed her engorged pearl. She tried to keep typing, but her quivering hands grasped Markus's. "Fuck, sir," she grunted. He was pushing her closer and closer to the edge, but just as she thought she was going to start to cum, he eased up, his finger hovering just short of her clit.

Her head was thrown back over his shoulder, her hair tickling his neck. Mark's hand moved up her heaving chest, circling and tweaking her nipple. He could feel her frustration. "What's wrong Miss Garnier?" he said. Gianna's body was still humming, pulling away from the orgasm she didn't quite reach like a swimmer in the riptide. "As your tutor, I need to hold you accountable," he said into her ear, giving it a lick. "You will finish when you

finish

and I'm satisfied with your work." He tugged on her nipple.

Gianna was dazed and wracked with pleasure. She was still struggling to catch her breath. "Now get back to work. Your answer is competent so far, you have nothing for fear if you continue."

Her fingers darted back to the keyboard, flying over the keys. Markus's finger kept her hot, and he kept her going with whispered admonishment and encouragement in equal measure. In her haste she was making a lot of errors, and as she did, Markus made her correct them, moving her further away from the climax she desperately needed. He was getting his own pleasure too, rubbing his diamond hard cock against her wet ass. A fantasy came unbidden to her mind. She imagined Markus pulling down his pants and slipping his hard cock into her desperate pussy. With this fantasy, she started to gyrate her hips, rubbing against Markus's filthy pants. He reached deep inside her and started to rub her intimate, squishy patch. She tilted her head back, and soon her hands flopped over the keyboard, ineffectual and clumsy. "Tell me what you are, Miss Garnier."

Through the fog in her mind, she knew what to say, and at that moment her resistance was threadbare. "A whore. I'm a whore, Dr. Rosen."

"Whose whore?" he growled.

"Yours, sir. I'm you fucking whore. God damn, just let me cum sir!"

Desperate and wracked with her approaching orgasm, she hoped that Markus would let her cum, even though he said he would wait. Maybe he would even screw up trying to push her up to the edge and push her over instead. But his deft hand knew and just as she was about to explode he drew back and let her cool. Her hips moved faster now, and Markus' breath was getting more fervent. The iron rod of hs cock shifted underneath her pert ass. He had certainly taken notice of her rubbing.

She tried to look back at him, to give him a glare, but he was too close, nibbling on her ear. "Sir... oh my God..."

"Just keep going, Miss Garnier. You're not that far from done." His voice had lost the controlled cool that it had when she came in, strained and elevated. By now he was moving in time with her grinding on his dick, and his ragged breath was hot on her neck. With his finger he pushed her again, pressing her g-spot again. Daggers of pleasure shot through her pelvis.

Gianna squirmed, rallying her focus so that she could finish her work. Markus was squeezing her tit now, almost hard enough to hurt, and she felt his hard teeth on her shoulder. Her fingers flew, making errors needing correction over and over. Her endurance was a small mercy, as her back arched with force and she pushed her hips into Markus's hand.

But at last her flopping finger made the last keystroke. "Sir, I'm done. Please." She couldn't even stop herself, her hips pumped back and forth. Markus's boner poked into her shifting butt.

He looked her answer over, and every second keeping her from her orgasm was an eternity. Now, though, he was losing focus too. "You need to elaborate here. It's not clear what you mean."

"Sir, please," she whimpered. But he started rubbing her engorged nub again, pushing her back to her elevated state. "No, please, sir. I can't take it."

Her hands felt like clubs at the end of her arms, and she typed letter after letter, hoping and praying that Markus would be satisfied with her answer. She might as well be fucking him now, as fast as she was pumping over his member. Her hands stopped, grasping at Markus's hands, one at her sore breast and the other at her sore pussy. Her breath hissed in her throat as he read over the work at a glacier's pace.