3 comments/ 14579 views/ 22 favorites College Dom - Professor Sub Ch. 01 By: Kristofe ****** This is a collaboration between myself and unpublaauthor. Each took a role and wrote for that role. I wrote for Jake's point of view and unpublaauthor wrote for Violet's point of view. We hope you enjoy it and will continue to write more. ****** * I have lived a fairly normal life. I was captain of my high school football team as quarterback. I made straight A grades. I got into a great university on a full athletic scholarship. With my brown hair, hazel eyes and 5' 9" athletic frame, I had a choice of any girl. For the most part I had an average life, well on the outside. One thing that no one ever know about me was that I was domineering. Though I was a leader on the football field and with my girlfriends I tended to take control of them in bed. For me it was more about controlling my life to the way I wanted it. Oh let me introduce myself. Jake Fletcher, all around nice guy. When I started collage I talked my adviser into giving me the schedule I wanted. I know what classes I wanted to take, when I wanted them, and which professors I wanted. My freshman years was great. I know most of my friends joined frats their freshmen year, but I waited until my sophomore year. I had to see which was going to suit me. Though I dated a girl or two in those two years they were too soft for my tastes. Then I met the new U.S. History professor, Mrs. Landover. I have never thought I would be turned on by an older woman but when I saw her my cock got hard and my stomach flipped. I know in that moment I had to have her. Now I know some of you are saying, "But she's your professor." Well no she's not. She's a new professor and since I had already taken U.S. History I wouldn't have her. So I made a plan. I followed her when she was on campus to learn her routine. No I did not stalk her, just watched her whenever I passed her. One thing I noticed was she would always eat in the student café. So I waited and watched her until I realized something else about her. Though she had been known to be stiff, hard to please, and several students called her a 'BITCH', she needed to submit sexually to someone. So my plan changed. I was going to have my first true submissive slut. * * * * * * I watched the students around me as I scooped up the remainder of my yogurt. Several of them were in my freshman survey classes and didn't know the difference between George Washington and Barack Obama. Of those that did, they were so cocky and know-it-all that it made me regret my idea to teach at the university. Don't get me wrong; I loved history, and I loved teaching it. What I loved about history was discovering how men and women interacted in the past. I tended to really enjoy reading about how things used to be, when men held all of the power and women stayed home and safeguarded the home. I guess I should introduce myself. I am Violet Landover, M.S. I am twice, nearly thrice, divorced. My first husband cheated, said that I was cold in bed. My second husband discovered that I didn't want to be the sole breadwinner and hit the road. My third husband? He was a bit of a lark, a wannabe rocker with all the tattoos who seemed real tough and mean when I met him at my best friend's bachelorette party, but he couldn't bring me pleasure. No man has ever been able to do that. I know I come off as cold, and I've heard the students whisper that I'm a bitch, but I demand a lot from my students. Growing up, I was the nerdy girl hiding in the library at lunch. I would read, as I said, about those bygone times in history. I was, as my mother called it, a late bloomer. Braces, frizzy hair, and bad posture gave way to tousled blonde curls (that I usually kept severely in check in a bun), blue eyes that turned icy when a student disappointed me, and very nice--and completely natural--36DD boobs. I still tended to hide behind very staid work attire while on campus, tweeds and oh-so-proper suits, usually buttoning up to hide my breasts. But, at home, I indulged in fairly naughty lingerie meant to entice and seduce. Inwardly, I groaned in frustration. What would it take for me to meet a real man? I was so tired of orgasming myself to sleep with my vibrator. * * * * * * Now one could ask how I knew she needed to submit. Well once I realized how much I needed to control my life and the people I deal with, I came to understand that people put up a façade. When a woman looks like a stern hard bitch, what she wants and needs is to be dominated. To submit and be told what to do. She may not know what she wants so she needs to be guided. So I decided to introduce myself and measure whether I was right about her. One day when she went to the café I followed her in and ordered myself some lunch. After looking around for her I made my move. Walking over to her I gently bumped into her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bump into you." She smiled. "That is ok. Just be careful next time." I smiled and sat at a table nearby and faced her. Pretending to look around the café I watched her. She went back to the book she was reading and I looked at the title. It was one of those dopey romance novels that lonely housewives read when their husbands can pleasure them properly. More evidence that she needed to be taken by a real man. She sat leaning back in the chair as she read. Dressed in a white blouse, black skirt, nude color stockings, and black high heels, she was every bit the fantasy teacher. Though she was sitting with her legs crossed I could see her skirt rode up enough to see a hint of the top of her stockings. I loved stockings on a woman. Not just how they can accentuate their legs, but the feel of them as I run my hands over them. I made a mental note to make sure she always wore them. Her hair was done in a bun like some sex deprived library assistant. Another change I would have to make. I needed to make the next move in my plan so I stood up and went to throw my trash away. As I passed her again I made sure to brush her back with my crotch, just enough to let her feel but not enough to be blatantly obvious as what I was doing. * * * * * * I shivered, feeling a bit hunted. For the last several days, I had felt as if eyes were on me. As a result, I had started to dress slightly less like a frump. I left off the blazer this morning and had unbuttoned a few buttons on my crisp white shirt revealing a daring hint of cleavage above the lacy cups of my bra. My skirt was several inches shorter than normal, and I wore stockings rather than pantyhose. I even tottered a bit on high heels. My male students had noticed. I guess it was worth it if the infants sat up and paid attention to my lecture on prostitution in the Civil War, for once. Having that much masculine attention made me a bit more daring, and I had shimmied out of my now wet and fragrant panties before heading into the student center to pick up lunch. As usual, I ate alone. As usual, once I finished my lunch, this time a pita gyro wrap with a banana I ate lustily, gobbling it as I wanted to a thick cock, I turned to one of my secret vices: bodice ripper historical romances. Lately, I've been reading medieval romances. I've especially grown to enjoy the ones that feature heroines chained up in a medieval dungeon awaiting rescue from a dominating warrior prince. I looked up briefly to see the hazel eyed, brown-haired stranger who had come to feature in my fantasies as the warlord rescuing me, the enchained and enslaved maiden in the last few weeks. Every day, it seemed, as I ate lunch, I had noticed him. Sometimes from afar, sometimes up close. It seemed as if he was waiting for someone, something. Even though he wasn't my student, it had to still be highly inappropriate that I masturbated at night wishing he was waiting for me...looking for me, right? He was the type of guy that I hid from but secretly dreamed about when I was a geeky high school student. Athletic and popular. I had asked around. He seemed to be well-liked by many of the professors on campus. I heard his chair scrape back. Squelching a frown of disappointment, I realized that he was leaving. I pretended to focus on the novel in my hands, my eyes unseeing what I knew to be the hot scene where the hero batters away the heroine's virginity while she is still chained to the wall. He walked behind me and his erect cock brushed up against me. I felt ashamed for what surely was an innocent act. Despite my mortification--or because of it--my pussy wept for the huge bulge that brushed me. Even though it wasn't bobbing before me for a suck and a lick, I could tell that this boy, years younger than my forty-one years, packed a larger cock than any that had filled me before. And, I had to have it. Another shadow loomed over me. As I knew it wasn't the boy because my eyes had followed his exit from the student center, I knew it could only be one other person. I looked up and winced. I was right. Dr. Xavier Bradshaw, the Dean of History, licked his lips as he looked down at me. It was mostly because of him that I continued to wear my hair scraped up. I always felt unclean by his lascivious stares. Unlike the boy's accidental brushing of his cock up against my back, Xavier's overtures were just that, blunt and purposeful. I resisted the urge to button up my shirt, and I knew he knew that I was uncomfortable. And I knew that made him even more aroused. He held my career in his hands. I knew he wanted me to mess up so that he could "make a deal" with me, make me sleep with him in order to save my position at the university. "Excuse me, Dr. Bradshaw, I will be late to class if I don't hurry." I tried to slip by him, but his hands palmed my ass. His chuckle grated, and I could tell he realized that I wasn't wearing any panties when he slid his finger in my wet slit. I moaned softly, cursing myself for being so aroused from that boy. "Of course you need to be on time. If not, we will need to discuss your tardy behavior later in my office." I nodded, and sprinted toward the quad, intent on escape. * * * * * * Just as I left the café I looked back and could tell she noticed my semi erection. Now I have never thought I had a big cock, as the only two girlfriends I had sex with where both true virgins but I'm told it is a good size. Almost 8 inches in length and about a 3 inch girth, I am fine with it. As I walked across the campus I made the next step in my plan. Over the following week I would make sure I walked by her whenever she ate in the café. I would sit facing near her and adjust myself so she would see my cock lying under my pants and boxers. I would always make sure she could see me no matter where I sat. I would always walk by her and made sure that I brushed her when I left. The next week I made my first official move. As she was walking into the café I bumped into her knocking her over on purpose. Fanning a shocked look. "Oh I'm sorry Professor. Here let me help you up." I extended my hand out to her and helped her to her feet. "I guess I wasn't paying attention. Let me buy you lunch to make up for my clumsiness." After we walked into the café and ordered our lunches we found an empty table and sat down. Discussion turned to her asking about my life and my experiences in collage so far. Then talk about her life and her two divorces. I learned quite a bit about her as well as confirmed that she was submissive but just needed someone to bring it out of her. Then a thought hit me. "Can I ask you something personal? I know we just met but..." I thought of the best way to fraise it. "...When was the last time you were treated as you like the woman you should be?" She gasped as she placed a hand on her chest than stuttered. "Wwell if you must know, it's been years." "Then I would like to take you to dinner. My treat." She sat for a moment before agreeing. "Good." I looked at my watch. "Oh! Time for me to get to practice. Give me your number and I'll text you." She told me her number and I put it in my phone. As I left I could tell she was watching me. * * * * * * I waited three days for him to call me with baited breath. Long-forgotten teenage fantasies of dating the quarterback rose to the fore, and I superimposed his body in place of my old daydreams, imagining giving him a blowjob in the locker room after the team's big win in nothing but my underwear, the skimpiest, laciest, and naughtiest I owned. Classes continued to progress slowly. To keep my male students' attention, I continued to wear the tighter and shorter skirts and tighter tops. While they continued to pay attention, and their cocks were at attention, doing so had a few disadvantages. First, Dr. Bradshaw continued to ogle me and find ways to squeeze my ass or finger me when we passed in the halls. I took to taking pains to avoid him. And, making all those boys take notice served only to make me wet while I was attempting to lecture. Thursday, in the middle of class, my phone buzzed with a text. My heart jumped in my throat as I read what Jake tapped out: "Good morning! I will pick you up at seven at your office. Wear those stockings of yours but no panties. You will never wear panties in my presence again." I gulped and thought, not for the first time since he introduced himself to me, that I was in over my head. Me. The staid college professor. Invasive fantasies penetrated my thoughts, rupturing my concentration. The rest of the class passed in a blur. Shutting the door as the last student exited, I returned to my desk. Seated behind my desk, I always felt small, dainty, and utterly feminine. I lifted my legs up and spread them, hiking my skirt above the tops of my stockings. With a shudder, I plunged two fingers into my pussy, plowing it. My moans covered up the opening door. And the clearing throat. * * * * * * As it got closer to time I took a good shower then dressed. Wearing blue jeans that were tight enough to show my bulge very well, but still loose enough to move I slipped into a black t-shirt and black, gray, and red collared button up dress shirt. They fit we well and enhances my athletic built. I ran down the stairs from my frat house and hopped into my truck, Ford F-150. A high school graduation present from my parents. Pulling into the parking for the main lecture building I was a bit nervous. I wondered if she was still in her office and did she wear what I asked of her. I entered the building and walked down to her office. I was just about to open the door when I heard movement. I slowly and quietly cracked the door open and peeked in. I grinned as I watched her prop her feet up and slide her hand under her skirt. Within moments she was moaning as I watched her hand move. The aroma of her filled the air making my cock swell in my jeans. I slowly stepped in, making sure she didn't hear me. I stood to watch her pleasure herself and knew then that she was submissive but needed to be shown. I could tell she was close to coming so I cleared my throat. The look in her eyes was priceless. A mix of shock, embarrassment, lust, and need flashed in them. She was just about to pull her fingers out from under her skirt. "Leave them." She stopped and stared at me. I saw the mental tug of war she was playing. Should she obey or should she leave and hope I wouldn't come after her. "You will do as I say....yes?" She only nodded as her mouth remain close. "Now, pull them out and lick them clean." Reluctantly she obeyed as she slide her fingers out of her skirt and timidly licked them one by one, her eyes never leaving my face. * * * * * * I watched his smirk as I tasted myself. How could he have asked that of me? None of my exes would ever have even thought to demand that of me. And here he was, little more than a stranger, commanding me to lick my cunt juices. My body went rigid as he continued to stare, my breathing seeming to be of particular interest to him. His eyes lingered on the cups of my lacy bra visible through the expanse of skin revealed by the open blouse. I looked down. My puckered nipples were framed by the black fishnet enrobing my areolae. Why on Earth did I wear my bra with the nipple cutouts? Already hardened little raspberry nubs, my nipples knotted still further under his ardent gaze. "Touch them. Tweak them. Show me how you liked to be touched." His voice, little more than a harsh, aroused whisper, seemed like a shout in the confines of my office. Mechanically, I twisted them in tandem as if they were knobs on an Etch-a-Sketch. Engorged almost past bearing, even the slightest touch would be uncomfortable. This full-on self-assault served to make me yelp and to make my pussy flood with desire. Please don't let him see how the pain turns me on, I pleaded--to whom, I'm not sure. I watched him catalog the evidence of my desire for pain and couldn't miss the--sadistic?--smirk he made no attempt to conceal. He held his hand out to me, and I accepted it, placing my much smaller palm shyly against his. With deft movements, he buttoned my blouse with one hand, rendering me decent again and no longer a wanton slut. Perversely, he flipped my skirt up to observe that I had removed my panties and was bare beneath my skirt, save for the stockings. He ran a purposeful finger along my slit, and I wobbled, grinding gently against his large digit. I choked on a moan. He said something, coughing, that sounded like "slut," but surely I was mistaken. In an audible tone, he queried, "Shall we go?" To which I nodded. He smoothed my skirt down, palming my ass, and we exited the building. * * * * * * I watched as she tried to hide her inner slut. I grinned sadistically knowing it would be easier than I thought to bring it out. Her nipples poked out making them highly visible even under her blouse. I felt the shudder that ran through her body as my finger slide through her wet slit. As palmed her ass I could tell she loved the attention I gave her. We walked out to my car where I opened the door helping her in like a true gentleman. I reached in the back seat pulling out a black bag. Opening it I took out a vibrating egg. "Slip this into your pussy." Hesitantly she took it from me and slid it under her skirt into her pussy. I held up a remote to show her I had control over it. Quickly turning it on, she jumped at the feel of it. I let it stay on for a moment then turned it off. I could hear a low growl of disappointment. I laughed knowing what I had planned for the night. We arrived at the restaurant just in time to get the table I reserved. The hostess walked us to the back table that had low lighting as well as I great view of the rest of the restaurant. The table cloth completely covered the table as we sat down on opposite sides. Once we were handed the menus we looked them over as we waited for our waitress. Having decided we begin to talk. From the outside we were having a normal date. Talking about ourselves, what we planned to do for our lives, many other typical date night topics. Under she would squirm each time I turned the vibrator on and off. I could tell it would break her concentration each time. When the waitress came up to take our orders I turned it on high and left it on. I had to grin watching her try to order while the toy vibrated in her pussy causing her to slip a couple times. Once the waitress left I turned off the toy and looked her straight in the eyes. "Get under the table." She looked at me then around the room. It felt like several minutes as she debated about obeying. Did I take it too far or was she having an internal battle of wills? My question was answered when she took one last look around the room before slowly sliding down under the table. * * * * * * I slid under the table in compliance with his direct order, mortified and aroused beyond bearing. Why was I following his demands and commands, I asked myself, even as my cheek caressed his cloth-covered bulge in between his legs. College Dom - Professor Sub Ch. 01 Heaven! It was just as impressive and turgid as it had felt when he accidentally brushed against my back. I had long grown sopping wet from the vibe egg in my pussy, but now the insistent buzzing grew nearly unbearable. There was a rustling sound as he pulled open his pants, releasing at last the monstrous dick, hard and erect, to plop against my nose. The warm, musky aroma of cock assaulted my senses, and I would have collapsed if I weren't already kneeling. How long has it been since I deep throated a cock? Nearly a year, a parched voice in the back of my mind responded. I heard the waitress return with our drinks. "No, my date has to step in the ladies' room for a moment," he chuckled. After she had left, he said in a tone only audible to me, "Suck it, you nasty slut. Show me how a proper whore worships a cock." Why those words, the most degrading I had ever heard leveled at me, shot down my spine in a lightning bolt of arousal, I could not tell you. I only know that it caused me to gobble his cock as if it were a banquet and I were a slave who had been starved for four days. * * * * * * I had to stifle a moan as her mouth engulfed my hard cock. I nearly had to hold onto the table as her expert mouth lick, sucked and teased my cock. A few times I felt her deep throat as she gagged on me. It only took a few moments before I was shooting into her mouth. As she pulled off my cock I was grinning as she came up from under the table just as the waitress came back. The look on both of their faces made me hard again. "I guess Violet doesn't need dessert." I laughed. After the waitress brought our food we ate and continued as though it was a regular date. I would randomly turn the vibrator on and off throughout our meal making her moan or nearly choke on her food. As dinner was coming to an end I knew that I only broke the surface of what she would do. Paying the check then walking out to the car I opened the door to let her in. Just as she bent over to get in I slapped her ass very hard. She let out a yelp that turned into a moan. She did not move as I slide my finger over her very wet pussy. She shuddered as my finger touched her sensitive clit. I let her get in and then got into the driver's side. I took us back to the University, parking near her car. Looking at her I smiled leaning in for a kiss. Her soft lips were hesitant at first then she pressed them to mine. As I slide my tongue over her lips they opened to all me to slide my tongue over hers. I pulled her close as I turned on the egg. I could tell she was close to orgasm so I turned it on full. She shuddered and thrashed in the seat moaning into my mouth as an orgasmic wave overtook her. Pulling back the lust and wanting in her face shown me just how much of a slut she could be. Turning of the egg I looked her in the eyes. "You are my slut now. I own your body, do you understand?" She only nodded. "Good. Now go home and give your husband any excuse you need. I will email you with my rules that you will obey, understand?" Again she shook her head. "Good." I got out of the car and walked around to open the door for her. Just as she stepped out I took her hand and brought it to my lips. "Good night." She walked to her car then left. I turned back to my car smiling. Oh the fun I was going to have. College Dom - Professor Sub Ch. 02 ****** This is a collaboration between myself and unpublaauthor. Each took a role and wrote for that role. I wrote for Jake's point of view and unpublaauthor wrote for Violet's point of view. We hope you enjoy it and will continue to write more. ****** ***** I awoke the next morning and stretched. I could still feel the vibe egg's aftereffects from the night before. Surely, I dreamt the vibe egg, the sucking under the table, the waitress's reaction, and him spanking me before letting me orgasm?! With great trepidation, I checked my e-mail. No message from him. Shaking my head, I mentally castigated myself. I didn't want to fall into the trap of being the eager cougar slut rabid for his cock. But...he had called me slut last night...and slave. I looked down at my nude ass and could still make out his handprint on my ass. A handprint of ownership. I wasn't an imbecile. I knew what sexual slavery was, had researched the BDSM lifestyle. Had secretly yearned for a Master to take me in hand. Groaning, I rubbed my hand over my face. I glanced over at my soon-to-be-ex-husband and snorted. When we first married, I had hoped he would be the one to satisfy every submissive craving I had. Little did I know; he was a little boy in a man's leather jacket. Yet, this college sophomore had more dominance in his pinky than all of the men I had ever been with put together. Ding! Biting my lip to keep from squealing in surprised pleasure, I clicked to open the new e-mail from my...Master? Mrs. Landover, I'm about to open you up to a new life that I know you need. You obeyed me last night which showed me you need a firm hand to control your every sexual need. I know what you need and I will give it to you. Your body is now mine to do as I please. Have no fear I will treat it like a temple of the goddess you are, but I will mark it for disobedience. There will be limits to what we will do, but that will be explored together. There will be rules that you must follow which I will give you as I learn more about your needs and what you can handle so we will start with these simples ones. 1. You will no longer wear panties (with one exception). 2. You will obey all orders without hesitation. 3. You will answer all my text and phone calls IMMEDIATELY. 4. You answer me with "Yes Master" at all times. 5. You will answer to "Slut". Failure to follow these rules and others I will give you will result in punishment. In public we will remain in our normal lives. Now I will expect a reply by 10 am. Text me "Yes Master". If I don't receive a reply then I will leave you alone. But I know you will reply as you need me. I looked down at my watch. 9:50. Gulp! He really means immediately. With shaking fingers, I typed out, Yes, Master to his phone number. Then, I added, trying to swallow around the pounding of my heart. I want to be your nasty slut, Master. * * * * * * Yes, Master. I want to be your nasty slut. Master. appeared on my screen and I grinned. Now I needed to begin her training to become a good submissive slut for me. I went back to my truck and grabbed the bag I kept in there. Taking it back to my room in the frat house I looked through it. A box of condoms, a starter flogger, handcuffs, lube, the remote for the egg vibrator, and other various toys. "Looks like I have to go shopping." Grinning I know what I needed to do next. I picked up my phone to send a text to Violet. Pick you up Saturday from your house at 9 pm. Text me the address. Be dressed and ready to start your training. I dropped my phone onto my bed and went to work on a report I needed to do. It was hard to work but I did the best I could. My mind kept returning to dinner the night before. The look on her face each time I ordered her to do something. That internal struggle with what she wanted and what she "should" do. In one hand I am a university student she should not have an affair with. On the other hand I can give her what she has always wanted even if she hasn't fully accepted it. To be a submissive slut. Well I knew I could give that to her. I could make her what she needed to be and show her the world as she has never seen it. Now you may ask yourself if I have not ever had girlfriends that allowed me to be a true Dom with them, then how would I know how to be one. Just because I never had girlfriends that allowed me to dominate them doesn't mean I didn't seek it out. I have been to many fetish clubs that allowed me to explore my cravings as it were. I learned what I could do and what I enjoyed. Now I was going to test Violet. As I planned where I was going to take her and what I would I would have her do I grinned knowing just how much I would be testing her own control over herself. I was going to enjoy training her. * * * * * * I waited impatiently for his response. When I heard the ding a couple of minutes later, I froze, reaching for my hairbrush. The hairbrush was not going to be used to brush my hair. I had been reading a story that featured a hairbrush used for spanking, and I...wanted to try it. In moments, it seemed as if my Master (I couldn't think of him as anything else, anymore) had ripped away the blindfold (different from the one that he planned to put on!) of my previous naiveté. The researcher in me demanded information. So, I had glutted myself with images, articles, and stories that featured Master and slave kink for most of the night. I had come across and was absorbing stories from a website devoted strictly to erotica and had found the hairbrush spanking story in the BDSM section. I looked down at the text. Pick you up Saturday from your house at 9 pm. Text me the address. Be dressed and ready to start your training. What does one wear for training? Looking back to the rules, I rationalized that obviously He did not want me to wear panties. He probably wanted me to wear something suitably slutty. I had read that a slut should also be waxed. Gulping, I looked down. I could definitely do with a touch-up. With trembling fingers, I texted back my address and added, I'm counting the moments until I can learn to properly serve you, Master. I then called the salon for a full maintenance appointment. In a way, tonight's training would be our first date, at least my first date being his slut and He being my Master. Luxuriating in the feel of someone massaging my skin to glowing perkiness, relaxing completely from the tension of always having to be in control, I realized that Master was the equivalent of the massage. I could give over control to Him, as I have wanted to do with all of my sexual partners. I felt myself growing wet during the massage when Yoshi, my favorite masseuse, started to rub jasmine oil into my breasts. She winked knowingly, watching my nipples harden from her ministrations. She had been my masseuse and confidante for years, ever since my bachelorette party celebrating my first marriage. We had, at times, been playful during some of the massage sessions, but now, even with her wink, she appeared troubled. "What's up, girl? You don't usually schedule a huge maintenance session unless something major has come up. A new man?" Should I tell her? I could barely voice it myself. But I trusted her more than pretty much anyone in my life. So, I spilled it all to her, including my trepidation at becoming His slave. And the desire to not disappoint Him. She listened sympathetically, making clucking noises, before voicing an "Oh, my!" as I described sucking him beneath the table. "I think he is just what you need, Violet." Shortly after that, fully refreshed and pampered for the evening ahead, I went home to dress. I wore a sheer black dress with even more sheer black stockings. I attached the garters to my pussy lips, keeping my pussy spread and wet and ready for Master. Underneath my dress, I wore another of the black peek-a-boo nipple cutout bras. Over it all, I wore a black trench coat, belted severely, revealing nothing but my toes painted a liquid silver beneath open toed black stiletto heels. At 8:59, the doorbell rang. With more than a miniscule bit of apprehension, I took a deep breath and reached to open the door knob. * * * * * * I rang the doorbell and stood there waiting for her to open the door. When it opened my breath stopped. She stood there in a black trench coat with matching opened toed stilettos. Seeing the coat meant one thing. She was dressed as a slut should be underneath. I grinned and took her hand leading her to my truck. As like with dinner as she got in I slapped her ass hard a moan escaping her lips. I went to the driver's side got in and took off. "Master, may I ask where we are going?" "No you may not slut. That is for me to know and you to just do. Understand me?" "Yes Master." She replied timidly. I grinned at her reply as I drove us down the main adult strip. The strip of road has many adult clubs, both gentleman's strip clubs, male reviews for the ladies, fetish clubs, adult bookstores, and most anything an adult would want. I drove into the parking lot of my favorite fetish store. I park the car and got out to walk over to her side. Opening the door I helped her out of the truck. The look in her eyes as she realized where we were was fantastic. As I lead us into the store the bell rang as I opened the door. "Good Even Sir Jake. How can I help you this evening?" The voice came from Anne the store clerk. A short, thin, blond haired girl. She has known me since I first started coming into this store. "I see you have a new slut with you." She looked up and down at Violet. Grinning she walked over to us. "As you can see she's needs to be trained and I need to get her some things to start. If you would please take her to the dressing rooms I'll go shopping." Anne bowed and replied. "Yes Sir." Taking Violet's hand she led her to the dressing rooms. I walked up and down the aisles searching for the things I need. Having grabbed a hand basket from the front I placed various item in it. As I made my way back to the dressing rooms, the basket full of new toys to use on my new slut I saw something that made me stop. There was my new slut on her knees, her face buried between Anne's wide open thighs. Anne did not notice me as she grabbed Violet's head and pushed her deeper into her pussy. "That's a good slut...eat my fucking cunt. Show me what you can do." Violet was doing a very good job. I didn't know if she had ever been with a woman, but it was MY right as her master to see if she was so I stepped into the room and Anne opened her eyes wide realizing her mistake. "Slut. Get up and move away." Upon hearing my voice Anne flinched as Violet stood up and moved to the side. I stepped up to Anne and pulled her up before turning her around. "Now Anne, you know the rules. No one touches a new sub until their Master says so. Now I know Kevin would not be please to know his sub was over stepping her place. "Yes Sir. He would be very mad at me." Her voice quivered. "You also know that it is within my rights to punish you for your transgression." "Yes Sir." I looked over at Violet and saw her watch with an intense look on her face. "Now my slut. You will see what will happen when you disobey." She only nodded. I grabbed a paddle I placed into the basket and lifted up Anne's skirt. Noticing she was wearing panties I tsked. "You know Kevin's rules about panties." She nodded just as I brought the paddle to her ass. "One Sir. Thank you." I looked over at Violet as I swung again. I noticed her jump slightly as the paddle connected with Anne's ass. "Two Sir. Thank you." I continued to paddle Anne's ass as Violet watched. After ten smacks with the paddle I let Anne stand up and smooth her skirt down. I looked at Violet as Anne walked over to the dressing room door to open it. I handed her fishnet stocking. "I love the sheer ones you have on, which you will wear at the university but on our nights out you will wear these." She took them into the room. As she went into the dressing room to put them on Anne and I went to the register so I could pay for the rest of the items. After getting a new paddle so it was unused until I used it on Violet, I made sure Violet would be unable to see through the bag as to surprise her. * * * * * * Inside the dressing room, I had to touch my pussy. I HAD to! Tasting Anne's sweet juicy cunt made my own juices flow down my thighs. I moaned as I remembered her taste, how she talked to me, and the feeling deep in my stomach of Master chastising me as he had Anne. I craved the feel of being over his knee, skirt tossed up, paddled until my ass was bright red and gleaming in the florescent lights. Fingering my clit and barely suppressing a moan, I imagine the roles reversed. Anne is watching me, humiliated, being ordered over Master's knee and forced to count and thank the stinging cracks of hard wood on the pale globes of my ass. Shimmying out of the sheer hose and into the fishnet stockings, I felt even sluttier as I exited, unbelting the trench coat and letting it fall around my hips, walking confidently with a bit of a sway to my hips to the register where Master again chastised Anne, verbally. My nipples, already hard, pucker still further at being all but on display. I see Master holding a plain, unmarked brown bag, sinister in its generic concealment. I feel my juices again slide down my leg imagining the delights-and torments-he has within. The paddle, I decide, is a given, and parts of me blush that have never blushed before, at least since I was a teenager losing my virginity. He seems to be not in the mood to talk, so I keep my lips sealed even as Anne cheerily wishes us a good time with the items Master purchased. When we are outside, he orders me to hand him the trench coat. "For the rest of this date, you will not have the coat. You are not to hide the fact that you are a nasty slut and dirty whore." The words, as I'm sure he is aware enflame my pussy further. "Yes, Master," I respond, marveling still that I'm calling a boy half my age "Master." "Yes, Master, what? What are you? Tell me all of it." His words held a distinct edge, a delicious combination of dominance and impatience. I sighed, feeling more of my nipple area peek through the holes in the bra. "I am a nasty slut. I am a dirty whore." As I spoke the words, I felt myself truly accepting that I was those things, not merely cataloging a list for Master. He tapped the steering wheel with impatience. "What else are you?" "A pussy eating bitch," I ventured. "Mmm, yes, pet. How many pussies have you licked and eaten?" Not really surprised, I looked down and saw Master's cock growing hard through his clothes. I cleared my throat. "Two, Master, counting Anne's." He appeared impressed or approving, at the very last. "What else?" his voice snapped. After reading and researching, gobbling up as much information I could in the last few days about my new desires, I was almost positive about one thing. "I'm a painslut," I whispered, ashamed of this more so than anything else. He started the car with a flick of his fingers. I had trouble concentrating, imagining him doing the same to my nipples or my clit. "You are a what, whore?" "A painslut," I revealed, ducking my head. "The thought of you spanking me as you did Anne makes me sopping wet." He smile at me as he back out of the parking lot. All I can think is, oh shit, what have I done now? * * * * * * Hearing her admit to being a painslut made my cock twitch. I begin to run ideas through my head. I know that we could not use her house or the frat house but I remembered a local fetish club that had rooms for members to use. It was a good thing I was a member. "Now my slut. We are going somewhere for you to experience that spanking. I warn you now I will test your limits and you will do things you never thought you would ever do. This will be test one to see if you can make it as my sub. Understand?" Yes Sir." She nearly whispered. "Good girl." I reached into the bag and pulled out a black thick collar just as we reached the club. Parking the car I turned to her. "This is your collar. It is your symbol to others that you are mine. You will wear it at all times we are together here or in private." She lifted her hair as I wrapped it around her neck and buckled it. It was a simple black collar with a ring on the throat side for a leash. I left the leash in the bag and got out. Going to her side I opened the door and helped her out. We walk into the club and I pull out my member card. Once we get a nod from the bouncer we are let in. The music vibrates throughout the club as black lights, strobe lights, and other various party type lights the dance floor was packed with people. Others were at the bar while more were at the tables surrounding the dance floor. I picked us a booth to sit at to let her watch the room. She sat there in awe as she watched various couples move throughout the room. I watched her notice others wearing collars and begin to truly understand what it meant. As she watched the dance floor I slide my hand up her thigh under her dress stopping at her mound. She spread her legs a bit as I could feel the heat radiating from her. My fingers slide through her pubic hair sliding between her lips. I watched her gasp but her eyes never left the room. Leaning in I whispered. "Tomorrow you will shave slut." She only nodded in agreement. Her eyes followed another couple as they left the dance floor. The woman was nearly naked wearing only a thong, star shaped pasties over her nipples and a collar with a leash attached. The well-dressed man pulled the leash causing her to follow. They walked toward the private rooms disappearing behind the curtain. Pointing toward the curtains. "Master, what is behind there?" "Those are the private rooms for playtime. Let's order drinks then I will show you them." I waved for the waitress to come over. Just as she got to us she knelt on the floor. "How may I serve Sir?" "A glass of Pinot for my slut, and a beer for me." I caressed her cheek. "Yes Sir. As you wish." "You may go." I noticed Violet watch the whole exchange and understood the staff were all submissive. I felt her pussy get more wet, if it was possible. After a few minutes the waitress returned with our drinks. I looked at Violet. "Slut." She stiffen. "Reward our waitress with a kiss." Violet moved with more confidence as she stood up and leaned toward the waitress. My cock twitched as their lips met and Violet placed her hands on the waitress's hips. I could tell they were both enjoying it before I whistled softly. Reluctantly Violet pulled away and I dismissed the waitress. As we both drank watching the room while my fingers were in her pussy, we watched couples come and go from the private rooms. Once she finished her wine and I my beer, I pulled my fingers from her pussy with a groan from her and stood up. Taking her hand I pulled her to her feet and lead her to the curtains. Stepping through, we could see a hallway with several doors on each side. Most were closed with a few fully opened or even just ajar. As we passed one slightly ajar you could hear. "Yes Sir!" "Do you need more?" "Please Sir!" I told her that if the door is closed you leave it alone, if it is open look it to see if it is available or if it's occupied then we can watch. She nodded as I told her. We stopped at an open door and peeked in. It was not occupied so I lead us in. Closing the door I turned on the lights. Her eyes got a big as saucers as she looked around the room. Along the back wall was a pegboard holding paddles of various lengths and thickness, different floggers and whips, cuffs, rope, and other restraints. In front of that was a barrel full of canes of different thicknesses. A small table with drawers filled with other toys stood to the side of the board. On the wall on the left of the door was a St. Andrew cross. In the middle was a padded saw horse. To the right side of the room was a closet with various costumes, towels, bathrobes and other clothing. She walked around and inspected each area and item. Looking up she noticed hooks and chains hanging from the ceiling. College Dom - Professor Sub Ch. 02 As she turned to me I took off my jacket and placed it on a hanger in the closet. I motioned for her to strip. Slowly she unzipped and let her dress fall to the floor. Her nipples perked through the holes in her bra. She unhooked her bra and let it fall onto her dress. She was about to bend and pick it up but stopped herself. I grinned, she was learning fast. "Pick them up and put them in the closet." She moved quickly not wanting to disappoint me, but she already had. As she passed me I swatted her ass. She jumped slightly. "Always say Yes Sir when I give you an order." "Yes Sir." She said as she placed her cloths in the closest. When she was done I lead her to the middle of the room and had her stand. I walked around her inspecting her as I would a car or other object. "Tonight is step one of your training. Your first test. If you do well we will continue on, if not, then we part...understand?" "Yes Sir." "You will greet me on your knees. If I offer you to others you will crawl to them and greet them on your knees. You will say 'How may I server you Sir/Mam'. I will remove and replace your collar and only I will do it. If anyone else does, you will be punished." She nodded in understanding. "No one may touch your body in any sexual manner except me or without my permission, not even your husband, which I have a feeling doesn't do much now anyways." I could see the conformation in her eyes. "Now." I lead her to the St. Andrew cross and pushed her breasts to it. I took one wrist and kisses it before strapping it to the cross. I did the same to the other wrist then to each ankle. I could see and feel the goosebumps over her body. "We are going to see what you can handle. You will use these safe words. Green, Yellow and Red. Red tells me to stop immediately. Yellow tells me that I'm reaching your limit, though I may push you to red. Green means..." "Go Sir. I want it and like it." "Good girl. Now let's get started." Without warning I swung a small paddle I grabbed from the pegboard against her ass making a loud thwack that echoed in the room. * * * * * * I winced, crying out, at the expected but still-a-surprise smack of wood on my bare ass. My pussy, already wet, began to drip on the rough wood of the cross. I had seen illustrations and videos of women bound to St. Andrew's Crosses, but the reality was far different from the fantasy. Two days ago, I had stroked my pussy to orgasm while watching one girl get whipped by a much older Master. That thought gave me pause as I felt the paddle leave my ass only to slam into it again, a bit lower, on my sit spot. My breath left as a howl. How silly must I look, twice Master's age and his slave. I imagined that he would enjoy a much suppler, younger slave to use and abuse. Then, my concentration on those thoughts was broken when Master softly tsked. He was running the smooth edge of the paddle up my inner thigh, to my apex, and back down again. The tsking happened when he noticed my juices dripping down my thighs. Master dipped the paddle in my streaming cunt and lifted the moistened paddle to my lips. "Taste," he commanded. Looking into his eyes, wickedly cruel, my tongue darted out to lick the board clean. I groaned. I was somewhat addicted to tasting myself wihen I played with myself. And since I was the only one to have played with me recently, it was no surprise that I had become very familiar with my taste. Maybe that's why I loved the taste of other pussies so much, I thought with a little half smile. "Don't be petulant, slut," Master said, cracking the paddle on my ass. Over and over again, he thrashed me stopping only to switch hands that were wielding the wooden implement. I'm sure that my screams were echoing loudly enough for the other club members to hear me above the music on the dance floor. When I thought I could take no more, but refusing to use the safe words over something as trivial as a paddling-having seen what other torments were available, Master paused. He nipped my ear, the tiny sharp pain insignificant to the butt-bruising paddling I had been privy to for the last several minutes. "Orgasm, slut," he commanded. To my shame-and my absolute pleasure-I came on his command. My body, sweat soaked and sore, collapsed bonelessly on the cross. I squirted, I thought, shuddering. I had only squirted once or twice in my life, usually when I was being particularly nasty or naughty. I felt leather threads settle around my neck. Master was using my neck as a holder for a whip. I felt inadequate. I knew each of these implements had their own special names, but I knew them only as "paddle" and "whip" and "dildo." I heard Master spit and then felt something slick and hard screwing into my virgin hole. I had never even been fingered or licked there...ever! Trying but failing to suppress a moan, I sobbed a bit when he reached the first tight spot. "What's wrong, pet?" he asked me, true concern in his voice. Oh, shit, I was going to have to scream red. "I've never had anything back there, ever," I babbled, trying to breathe around the humiliating pain. He paused for a minute. "Do you wish to say red, pet?" I shook my head, still undecided. "Are you sure? If you don't use red now, you are giving me leave to finish plugging your ass. It won't be gentle; it's part of your training. But, if you say 'red' now, you will leave here without a collar." I looked up at his grim expression. He didn't look as if he would budge an inch. "Green," some crazy insane painslut part of my brain whispered. He smiled, stroking my back. "Good, slut. Good pet. Good girl." I'm not going to lie; the next few minutes were truly not something I would have ever chosen to experience. He screwed the plug into me as if screwing in a screw into a particularly solid board. Slowly. Painfully. But, it was also tender. He reached around with his other hand and fingered my pussy, trying to distract me from what he was doing. Finally, he whispered in my ear, "Well done, slut. You took that plug up your virgin ass like a champ." He untethered me, and I was confused. "Did I do something wrong, Master?" I asked. In answer, he turned me so that I was facing him, rather than facing the cross. He quickly attached me to the cross so that my breasts with their hard and erect nipples begging for his use and my flooded pussy were offered up to him. He took the whip from around my neck and trailed it over my breasts and pussy. Smirking, he considered what to do next. "Your pussy or your tits?" he asked, more to himself than to me. Chuckling, he reached in his pocket for a coin. "How about, heads for your breasts, tails for your pussy?" He flipped the coin and it landed on top of his palm. "Heads, pet. The breasts get it." Now was the time to test how truly a pain slut I was. I had to watch now as he pulled back the whip and see it lash a wave of fire over my unprotected breasts. * * * * * * Every smack, every yelp, every little welt made my cock twitch and swell. I knew she was a slut. I know she loved pain. I didn't know she needed it this much. I lashed out with the whip striking the top of her breast hard. A white welt line begin to turn red. I lashed again this time on the other breast. Back and forth each on lashed harder with each crack of the whip. Her screams turned from pure pain to pure pleasure. Her juices slid down her thighs with each kiss of the whip. I could see her body shuddered as she worked hard to control her orgasm. As I was ready to stop the whipping she could not hold any longer and the last lash sent her over the edge. She came hard squirting for the second time. It poured onto the tile floor making it slick. "You fucking came. I did not tell you to cum." I said with a hint of anger in my voice. I wanted her to know that I would not allow her to cum unless commanded. Without any though I swung the whip lashing her mound just above her pussy. "You never cum unless I say." "YES SIR!" she screamed as another lick of the whip hit just above her pussy. "I'M SORRY SIR" Another then another. After about five licks of the whip I pulled back and looked at her. Her breasts and mound where covered in welts. Her breathing was labored. Sweet dripped down her body as cum dripped from her pussy. Her body was perfect. Just as a painslut should look. Smiling I moved toward her. "Well I know I enjoyed this. And I can see you did very much. I know you might have imagine something different, but in reality you needed this. You need to submit. Crave it. I will be your Master." "Yes...Master..." I slowly unstrapped her from the cross rubbing her wrists and ankles just before kissing each one. Grabbing butter cream lotion I poured some into my hands and rubbed your breasts, ass and mound. "This will help soothe the welts" She moaned as my hands slide over her red body. As my hands slide over her nipples she screamed nearly cumming a third time. Holding her I slide my hands back down her body. "Enough for tonight." Nearly an hour later she was dressed, the anal plug was out of her and we were heading back to my truck. As I opened the door for her I helped her up into the cab then closed the door before going to the driver's side. Hopping up and reaching into the bag I pulled out a box. Handing it out for her, she looked at me. "Master?" I nodded. She opened it up and inside lay a black diamond studded choker. "That is yours slut. It looks like something you can wear every day, which you will. This is your collar when you are not wearing this one." I took the other collar off then wrapped the choker around her neck. "You are my slut. This will remind you of that fact." "Yes Master. Thank you for the gift." I grinned then started the truck. After dropping her off at home I went back to the frat house. As soon as I get in my room I fell into bed and fast asleep. * * * * * * I awoke naked in bed, still a bit raw and sore from the night before. Twisting in bed to look over at the time, I yelped at the message that appeared on my phone. "Good morning, slave," Master had sent. Images from the night before slammed into my mind, and I shook my head to clear them. There was no mistaking that the punishments and delights had happened. I blushed deep red at how Master played my body with the punishment implements as a grand pianist would a fine instrument. My fingers reached down to play as I thought of everything he had done to me-and everything he hadn't. We still hadn't had sex. I had read that some Doms didn't use sex within the relationship. At the time, it made sense, but now I was just doubting myself. Was it because I was so much older than he was, that he didn't want me sexually? As my fingers tweaked my clit, I realized I most definitely wanted him to fill all of my holes, not just my mouth. Although, I chuckled ruefully in a way that quickly turned to a breathy moan, I really liked the feeling of him owning my mouth, claiming it as his. I touched the collar around my neck. Oddly enough, it felt right there, as if it should have always ringed my neck as a subtle symbol of my Master's control over me. The phone buzzed again with another message. "Do not cum, slut." I groaned in frustration, but then an evil part of my mind whispered, "How is he to know if you cum or not?" Another part of me, that submissive part that the "professor" me had usurped for control long ago, responded, "Really? You want to betray your Master's wishes like that?" I shook my head. Deciding a bit of exercise would be in order to clear my mind, I quickly changed into my yoga pants and a zip up hoodie sweater. Per Master's orders, I left the panties off, amazed at how natural the action was starting to be. The thought that I was panty-less at Master's command only served to inflame me further. My bare nipples brushed against the soft cotton of my sports bra and I ached to run in only my sports bra and pants. My phone rang in the middle of Justin Timberlake's "Sexy Back." "Yes, Master," I whispered, panting. "You better not be playing, slut," he opined. "No, Master, exercising. Running around my neighborhood." "Prove it. Snap a pic of you right now, 'running.' Make it one to tempt me. You have one minute." Master hung up the phone. I looked down and took his unspoken dare. I unzipped and pulled off my zipper hoodie, tying it around my waist. I snapped the selfie of me, sweaty from my run, aroused by him, and wearing only a sports bra adorned by my hard nipples nearly tearing through the soft fabric. Clicking "send," I waited for his response. When it came, I nearly choked. "Excellent, slut. You've made Master cum. Now, where you are standing, rub yourself an orgasm. In public." My brain shut down.