4 comments/ 10122 views/ 3 favorites L'Academia Virtuoso Ch. 01 By: ntoxicated Bianca waited, crossing and uncrossing her legs; the cool tug of the leather chair softly pulling at the skin of her thighs. The room engulfed her. Her plaid skirt was too short to allow her to sit back, so she perched at the edge of the chair, her legs swinging back and forth, her pendulous white socks reminding her of when she was a little girl. The room was still, a foreboding quiet she thought, her hands folding and unfolding the small piece of paper that had summoned her. The air was rich in the aura of academia, a deep wood stain scent, the walls paneled in dark maple, horizontal columns of black picture frames yielding diplomas, graduating classes, and hand shakes with dignitaries. Book shelves lined with bound editions, many with Dr. Montgomery's name on the binder. Floor lamps with stained glass shades, a wooden umbrella stand, the school's motto "Virtue, Dedication and Service" mounted on the wall behind the broad oak desk. Behind her the closed door, the word Headmaster etched in the glass casting a shadow over her face and shoulder. "Wait here", the secretary instructed without tone or expression, leaving Bianca's to wonder as the door clicked shut. "Come to my office immediately after class" were the only words on the note, followed by scrawling familiar signature of Dr. Montgomery. At the L'Academia Virtuoso, the Headmaster's rule was absolute. His office was on the top floor of the administration building. Built in 1892, the building brownish red brick had softened with decades of wear, the trimmed ivy weaving around the windows with arching fingers. Through the window in his office she could see the open lawn centering campus, the zigzag of sidewalks crossing in the middle circle. Students rushed back to dorms, while faculty wandered the grounds or headed out for the evening. The building was quiet. Across campus the tower bell tolled five times. The school day was ending. Crossing her legs again, Bianca squirmed slightly, the heat of the room a billowing pressure that pressed her temples and took her breath. Her thoughts spun with worries and why's. Her evaluations were good, very good. There were no disciplinary problems, no failed or forgotten assignments, no secret encounters with boys. Of course, it was not as though she never wished for physical pleasures, her mind wandered often. The dress code limited expression, but short skirts were allowed, and the sheer simple white of her blouse captured the curves of her breasts. She warmed recognizing the looks she received, and the tug and rub of her thong often quietly entertained her during long hours of lecture. However, it was solely self entertainment. The teachers at the Academy were too old, or married, or simply not interesting. So she was left to enjoy her own thoughts, the images she returned to in quiet moments, which made her blush and were certainly not for sharing or acting out. Time dragged as she watched the bronze metal arms of the wall clock slowly twitch, teasing her. Her mind replayed Dr. Montgomery's introductory words when she first arrived at the school. Bianca had imagined herself done with the strict rules and expectations of school. She had graduated with top honors from college, and was expecting to be treated as a rising star. His remonstrations challenged and surprised her. As an intern in the program, she was expected to follow the same guidelines as the student. "Discipline and obedience are the criteria by which you will be judged" he toned, his words leaving her mouth dry and skin flushed. She had thought to argue, but as she looked into the cool green of his eyes, she remembered distinctly her head nodding, and the desire to meet his demands. "Miss Vergini," Dr. Montgomery's voice echoed in the room, the closing door cutting off any connection with the rest of the school. "Sir." Her eyes glanced up, hoping to catch some quick clue as to why she was called. He strode behind the desk, and sat heavily, his movements seemed to reflect a seriousness and made her even more anxious. "I, um, your note, you wanted to see me?" Montgomery remained silence, shuffling through papers, ignoring her sitting across from him. Bianca tried not to squirm, and she found herself overly aware of the shortness of her skirt. A flush of heat rose in her back, and she silently prayed that the blush would not spread through her checks and betray her nervousness. After several long moments, Dr. Montgomery's head rose, and for a few seconds he just looked at her, his eyes locking on hers, daring her to not look away. "Ms. Vergini, do you enjoy your position her at L'Academia?" "Why, yes, of course, I love it her, I have always wanted to.." "We if so, then our rules simply do not matter to you, somehow you are above the rest?" "Sir, I am afraid, I mean, I don't know what you mean, have I broken some regulations, I am sorry but" "Silence." The firmness of his command drew her breath, her hands dropped to her lap, her head bowed. "Do you think your behavior serves as an important role model to the young girls under your tutelage?" "Why yes" "Please Ms. Vergini, explain to me then how I should interpret your writings?" He reached into a drawer and set Bianca's journal on the desktop. She froze, the color draining from her cheeks, unsure if she could breath. "But that, but I didn't, those are my private thoughts, my own writings, I have never shown anyone." "Everything at L'Academia is under my authority, even your own private naughty little fantasies." Bianca gasped, her mind spinning with the realization of all that she had written. Her desires had seemed so innocently far fetched and fanciful. She never imagined allowing anyone to read them. "So what were you thinking when you wrote, "Pleasures of a sexual nature cross my mind often, I find myself daydreaming constantly, wondering what it is like to be taken, to be possessed." "Well, I think, I mean, it is normal for a woman my age, plus those are my private thoughts, you have no right!" "Normal you say, so most young ladies spend their time dreaming of being sexually plundered? Did you think it was normal when you wrote this passage." Bianca blushed, recognizing each word as he read " other girls talk about romance, about soft touches, gentle kisses, being stroked, being caressed. Such innocent pleasures are nice perhaps, but not what I crave. My mind seems drawn to a darker place. Although I realize it must be wrong, but I want to be taken, filled, ravished; I want a man to punish me with this animal passions, pound me with his sweet cock; I want to be possessed, plundered, ravaged, fucked." Bianca's face was deep red, she remembered writing the words, she felt so vulnerable, watching the eyes of Professor Montgomery bearing down on her, reading her words that bared her soul. Her own body violated her trust as well. She should be outraged, she knew she should snatch the book from his hands and run, but sitting immobilized, hearing her own words both shocked and aroused her. She could feel the moisture flowing onto her thighs, she squirmed in her seat, wondering what lay next, how far he read. "Here you write of watching a handsome older man walk by, and you imagined him taking you firmly by the hand, and taking you to his room, stripping you of your clothes, commanding you on how to please him, forcing himself in ways only apparently you can imagine, allowing him to fuck you anyway he pleases. So tell me Bianca, are you really such a lascivious slut?" Bianca's spine shuddered at the dark gravely tone of Montomery's voice as he uttered the words "fuck" and "slut". "Please sir", she begged, "just let me have my book back, I have not shared these thoughts with anyone, I have never allowed myself to act out these fantasies with anyone, and my private desires do not impede my work." "Never allowed, or never had the opportunity?" Dr. Montgomery question was answered by her deepening blush. "You must realize, Miss Vergini, that your words make it very difficult for me to allow you to continue working with our impressionable youth. What would the families think if these thoughts became public? What would those top tier graduate programs for which you are applying think if they knew you to be such a naughty slut?" "Please sir, no one must know, I need my job here, I need to go to graduate school, this is my life, you must not .." "Bianca, you seem to be in no position to give me orders." "Sorry, I just mean, this is so unfair, there must be something I can do, some way that I can convince you of my worthiness." Dr. Montgomery looked at Bianca for several seconds. Bianca waited quietly, afraid to breath, and then she thought she saw an imperceptible nod of his head. Montgomery slowly stood, his body unwinding and pulling himself to his full length he walked around the desk and sat on the edge. He was close enough to Bianca that she could smell the soap he used, and could feel the heat of his ire over her discovered secret desires. She looked up at him, her eyes trying to beg forgiveness. "Perhaps there is a way" he said. "Oh please, anything Sir", she moaned. "Are you really willing to promise anything, without knowing what I will command?" "Anything Sir". She tried to maintain his gaze, expecting some onerous academic assignment or loss in pay or loss of vacation time. Then he smiled, a very handsome simile, she thought, as she had always found him attractive. The brief thought thanking God she hadn't written specifically about him crossed Bianca's mind, and then she gasped realizing the intent of his smile. His eyes held hers, and guided her gaze down to the cylindrical bulge in his slacks, now inches from her face "I don't, I mean I can't, I mean we can't Sir". "Very well, I am not surprised, you are not only a shameless slut, but you do not keep your word. Anything means anything Bianca, and my mind can think of many delightful things that I would enjoy. Too bad, such a lovely young ripe body you have, it seems such a waste for those naughty desires of yours to go unfulfilled. Oh well, I well start working on the paperwork to have you dismissed". "No, I mean, please, Sir, please?" Dr. Montgomery smiled widely, the spoke "please get on your knees Bianca". She lowered herself to the floor slowly, aware of the door, wondering if someone would walk in, her mind spinning, the wetness now pouring from her traitorous vagina. Dr. Montgomery slowly unzipped himself, and pulled forth his member, rock solid flesh, and holding it one hand, took Bianca's hair in his other hand, wrapping her curls in his fingers. "Don't worry Bianca, when I am done training you, you will enjoy all the pleasures of being my slut". And he guided his cock into her sweet pouting mouth. L'Academia Virtuoso Ch. 02 For those yearning to understand how Bianca finds herself in this predicament, please refer to Chapter 1. * Bianca awoke, and as her mind wandered, scanning the familiar layout of her room, everything seemed different. She could still taste the Professor; feel his hands guiding her, his words commanding her, his desires possessing her. As the sunlight streamed in, her mind kept returning to the image of Dr. Montgomery, the sensations of being violated, of being plundered, forced to submit, the desire of giving in, of being taken. Her pussy wept and begged for relief, her nipples tingling at each brush of the comforter against her naked skin as she tossed back and forth in bed. As the morning sunlight streamed in, she sat up and stretched. Beneath her dormitory door an envelope laid waiting. Bianca paused for a moment, her mind weighing what possibly could be in the envelope. She feared Dr. Montgomery had betrayed her, told of her secret writings, and perhaps even dismissed her. As she fumed, she wondered if she was more upset because she might be let go, or because she might not be with him again. Shaking her head, she stood, reaching for the envelope. The flap was sealed, and her hands shook as she worked a finger into the fold and ripped the envelope open. A single white page was enclosed. The neat type face simple said "Ms. Vergini, you have been reassigned. You will continue to teach in 7th grade math and science during hours 1 -- 4. However, in the afternoon you will report to Professor Montgomery's office to assist in whatever duties are assigned." Bianca stared at the note. She was startled by the ring of her cell phone. "Hello." The Professor's voice growled, "Ms. Vergini, did you receive your reassignment?" "Yes, Professor." "Please look under your bed for the package that I left for you. Your regular wardrobe is required for working with the students, but working in my office demands specialized attire. You will have time each day to change at lunch." The phone clicked silent. Bianca paused, trying to stifle a a grin slowly spreading over her face, and then looked under her bed. There was a brown paper wrapped package. Her hands shook, unwrapping the paper. Inside a silver chained garter, white lace stockings, a white G-string and a safety razor. A single page of white paper with a typed note instructed, "Make sure you are completely shaved. You will wear no other undergarments when you enter my office." Bianca shook her head, and taking a deep breath she went to the bathroom and turned on the shower; hot steam clouding the mirror. Her morning was spent anxiously aware of trying not to blush. She felt every breeze, every head turn, every look in her direction. The fresh shaved lips of her cunt tingling and sensitive to every movement. Trying to focus, she willed her nipples not to respond, not to announce her arousal. Several of the older male teachers seemed unusually willing to chat with her. The bell rung as the fourth period ended, and as the students grabbed up their books and backpacks to head for lunch, Bianca gazed at the clock, wondering if she would really go to the Professor's office. Wondering why she wasn't more reticent. As the student body and teachers moved to the lunchroom, Bianca walked to her room. Hoping no one would notice, she slid inside the door. After letting her heartbeat slow down, she stripped off her clothes and moved to her bed to find the package left by Professor. Her eyes glanced over and gazed at her shape in the mirror. The curve of her back sloped gently down to the muscular rise of her hips. Her breasts hung expectantly, the hard nubs of her nipples bursting like spring blossoms. She watched her chest rise, feeling her lungs expand, a calmness settling over her. She had quietly fantasized so often about being possessed, her mind drifting with guilty pleasures. As a teen she had worried there was something wrong with her. The other girls seemed either scared of sex, or desirous of gentle romance. Her desires were much deeper, she wanted to feel the power in her man, his forged steel plundering her, his strong hands holding and shaping her. Her fingers drifted down, sliding open the wet folds of her pussy, watching herself in the mirror. Her body buzzing with energy, her breath shortening, a low guttural moan oozing from her throat. She closed her eyes, and thought of the forbidden images she had so long written about. Being captured, being tied up, being forced to her knees. She longed for passion, roughness, the release of submitting herself totally. These desires she had only allowed herself to imagine in quiet moments, her secret naughty daydreams. These words had poured out into her journal, never imagining they would be read. Until the Professor had opened her book. Gasping, she stopped touching herself, and wiggled into the garter. Pulling up the stockings and skirt, she slipped on her sheer white blouse. Her nipples pressed through like neon beacons announcing her intentions. "He cannot expect me to walk to his office like this, a little half bra won't ruin the moment." Slipping on the bra and the blouse, she opened the door and walked, self conscious of the moisture running down her thighs. Walking into the office, she moved to the outer room desk and sat, picking through papers not sure of what she was supposed to do. Dr. Montgomery emerged from his inner office, and for a brief moment Bianca thought she could see the trace of a smile as his eyes admired her. "Ms. Vergini, please review these essays and grade appropriately. I expect you to catch ever spelling error, every grammatical mistake, our students deserve a critical editing of their work to insure their proper development, do you understand?" "Yes, sir." Leaning over, his eyes narrowed, and his hand reached out to tug at the nape of blouse, unbuttoning her to expose the soft cups of her lacy white bra. "Apparently you do not yet understand the importance of following directions." "But, Professor, I mean, I thought." His hand smacked down on the desktop, startling her. Please allow me to do the thinking Miss Vergini. Obedience is a virtue. We will deal with your indiscretion once these papers are graded." And as he turned back to walk into his office, Bianca gasped, stunned and tingling. She was wet, very wet. Fighting the distraction of her arousal, Bianca worked on grading the papers. She tried to slow her mind and focus, but her body swelled and pulsed, she could feel waves of heat rising from her skin, and she longed to be touched. Her fingertips kept sneaking to stroke her forearm, her face, and more daringly her thighs. Closing her eyes, she allowed her hand to rise up beneath her skirt. "Just a little relief, oooh, God," Bianca moaned, closing her eyes. Her trembling fingers pushed deeper as she ground her hips into the chair. "Ms. Vergini!" Bianca's eyes snapped open to find Dr. Montgomery looming over her, arms crossed. He leaned forward, and taking her chin in his hand, looked directly in her eyes and commanded in a deep foreboding tone, "Into my office now!" Dark oiled oak bookshelves towered above Bianca as she entered his inner private office. The wool carpet sunk beneath her feet as the pressure of the door closing behind. She caught her breath, a warm trail of her wetness creeping down her thigh. The garters tugged at the firm soft push of her ass; the string of her thong nuzzled twixt her cheeks. Dr. Montgomery eased around the desk and slid into his cane bottom chair. Behind him hung diplomas, scholarly awards, photographs with hand shaking smiling dignitaries, and a broad wooden fraternity paddle. He began, "Ms. Bianca, you are not taking well to your lessons." "Professor, I believe that I am a student with ample abilities and promise, but the nature of your curriculum seems, well, rather harsh, and I do not believe that I have warranted such firm punishment." "Harsh? Miss Bianca, please. It is not I that scribed in my diary explicit evocative tales of erotic plunder. Let me remind you again of the ground rules. Are you not my slut?" Her face blushed. "Professor, I acknowledge that I have sworn to you my devout obedience. And I confess that my sworn secret hungers of the flesh are primal in nature. Yet I cannot simply just give myself to you. I am not that way." "The issue is not what you choose to give, Miss Bianca, this is not about free will. Your succulent writings demonstrate a sinful nature demanding stern discipline and guidance. My firm hand is needed. Look at you, shameless in your short slutty skirt, the flush of cleavage begging my attention from your gaping blouse, those white stockings clinging to your legs." Bianca gasped, "You instructed me to wear this!" His open hand smacked the tabletop. "Silence! Ms. Bianca, your sassy attitude demonstrates spirit, I appreciate your intelligence, but your sinful wanton desires deserve punishment. I am the only one that can save you from academic ruin. You will service me faithfully, is that understood?" Bianca started to speak, but words abandoned her voice, her skin flushed, her mouth dry, the moment stretching like a rubber band ready to snap. The Professor's stern continence held her eyes, their gaze locked. Walking around the desk, he lowered his face to hers and gruffly whispered, "Bend over the desk." Flustered, Bianca started to protest. "Do it!" His hand gently pushed the small of her back as she leaned forward, her hands reaching out and gripping the cool seam of oak on the far side of the desk. The skirt pulled up over her hips, exposing soft peach curves, the tug of the G-string taunting her, the elastic straps of the garter framing her ass. Dr. Montgomery stepped back, and murmured his approval. "You are a bad man," her voice was throaty and hoarse, the cool air of the room tingling across her exposed flesh. He smiled, and stepped close behind her, almost touching, savoring the moment. As Bianca's head turned to look, he toned, "keep your eye's forward." And walking around the desk, he took down the wooden paddle. "Please." "You have been a very naughty girl." "I made a mistake, it will never happen again." She squirmed, feeling his eye, her pelvis starting a slow imperceptible grind against the smooth wood. "In your writings, you spoke of being taken, of the pleasure of submitting to a powerful man." Bianca moaned, "I shouldn't be punished, I didn't do anything wrong, I am a good girl. Is not creative writing a virtue?" Dr. Montgomery grinned, and then smoothly brought the paddle firmly down on her ass, a sharp smack that echoed in the room. A pink flush spread across her cheeks. Gasping, surprised at the firmness, she begged, "Please, I didn't do anything wrong." Smack. "Please, Professor, I promise to behave." "In your diary, you wrote about wanting to be possessed, to be taken roughly, to feel a gigantic cock pounding your pussy. You pondered pain and pleasure. Your glistening wet cunt suggests that you do indeed enjoy a good fucking." Smack. "Please, what I wrote was so nasty, please do not speak those filthy words." Smack. "So you can write filth, but you cannot say it? You cannot articulate the very words of your desire? Tell me how much you loved sucking my cock." "Please, do not make me speak such words, such thoughts." Smack. Bianca squirmed, "I loved it, I loved taking you into my mouth." Smack. "Use your words Miss Bianca." "I, umm, no I cannot, I must not, please." Smack. "I loved sucking your big throbbing gargantuan cock." Bianca's hips were now grinding hard against the desk, her tight slit molten and weeping, dew running down her leg. He taunted, "I bet your pussy has been wet since yesterday, did you imagine me fucking your sweet cunt?" "Please." Smack. "Please, please." He paused, his arm raised with the paddle, "Please what slut?" "Oh god, please, fuck me Professor." Smack. "Please, oh my god, please, push that big cock into my mouth, fuck my face, cum in my mouth, I want to taste you, fuck my sweet young pussy, I want to be your cumslut." Nodding, stepping back, Dr. Montgomery set the paddle down on the chair, and commanded, "Look at me." Bianca turned her head, looking back, maintaining the squeeze of her grip on the polished wood. Her hips swayed, pouting lips and eyes urging him onwards. He slowing stripped off his clothes. "Proper instruction takes time, Ms. Bianca. Fortunately I am a patient teacher. Each lesson may be difficult, but rewards await you in the end." And he knelt behind her, and slid his tongue between the cheeks of her ass. L'Academia Virtuoso Ch. 03 The tutorial continues. Bianca walked, scruff brown dirt, fallen dried leaves and drips of spattered sunlight scattered behind in her wake. Her head turned from side to side, perhaps looking for redemption, or a safer route, or at least a moment to pause and ponder the path her steps were taking. Pushed forwarding, her hands clutched a folded map, her eyes fixed straight ahead, pretending not to know the purpose of her destination. A face of innocence, except for the subtle upturned corner of her mouth, a sly wisp of a grin that passersby would likely miss, or even if noticed, would only convey a wry hint of pleasure attributable to the joy of the morning sky and spring blossoms and crisp cool air. She almost believed the innocence of the journey. Almost. She pushed onward, hoping not to see anyone. Her assignment had begun earlier that morning. Called to the Professor's office, Mrs. Willoby sat behind her oaken desk and stared through Bianca like a dog owner whose pup just crapped on ancient hardwood flooring paving the holy vestibule of the Church of Everlasting Sacred Vows. Empathy was not Mrs. Willoby's strength. Nor were kindness, sympathy or understanding. In a different era she would have been another Carrie Nation, a siren of hail and brimstone. In modern times, she was simply Mrs. Willoby, senior school secretary. "I received a note to come see you," Bianca spoke, trying to keep her voice from wavering. "The Professor asked that you help prepare for the upcoming field trip. The students this Tuesday are making their annual pilgrimage to Salem Falls to view the reconstructed New England village." Mrs. Willoby tapped a yellow envelope on the desk impatiently, her nose scrunched as though she detected a foul odor in the room. "But, I mean, ok, it is Saturday?" Bianca tried not to blush, her body murmuring wordless thoughts. "Yes, it is in fact Saturday, Ms. Vergini. Your understanding of the calender is impeccable. Here are your instructions, a map is enclosed, please use the school car, the Fiesta. Professor Montgomery was very clear about his wishes." "But." Her words drifted aimlessly as Mrs. Willoby turned away to face the computer screen. ______ Moving along the worn dirt path, Bianca brooded about the other cars in the parking lot. In addition to her Fiesta, and the Professor's Lexus, there was an older Audi, and a Prelude. Both resembled cars she has seen before in the faculty parking lot, although she could not be sure. The map directed her through a cluster of birch trees past a sign post; "Old Salem Town Square ahead, 0.5 miles." She recalled visits as a child and the strange rituals of Town Square. Despite her reservations, her pace picked up. The arch of trees faded to a neatly mowed circle of lawn. The morning tasted of hay and spreading blue sky. The sun above the tree line warmed her skin, her thin cotton blouse floating over small beads of sweat. Her legs exposed, barely covered by the hem of her red plaid skirt. A buzz of anticipation in her ears, she smiled briefly, looking down and admiring the pull of sheer cotton across her breasts, and the vulnerable bare flesh of her thigh. "He needs to come up with new outfits," she thought, enjoying the soft push of grass as she walked across the field towards the Center House. Oak timbers pieced together in a one story white rectangular meeting hall. At the entrance a ten foot tall pair of wood paneled doors, surrounded on either side by Georgian white columns. The air was still, hesitant. She pushed open the door and walked into a dark hallway. "Charming, isn't it Ms. Vergini? You are late." She recognized the Professor's stern tone as he stepped from behind a door carved with a Calvinist cross. "Sorry, Sir; I, um, I came as soon as I got your message." "Step inside." He led her down a dimly lit hallway. "My instructions were explicit. Be here at 10 sharp." "But Professor, I did not even receive the message until 8:30, how was I supposed to know, it takes an hour to drive here, it's Saturday morning." He stopped, and turning, leaning towards her, his jaw jutting forward. "You must always be prepared to obey. Tardiness has consequences. You recognize the setting." "Yes, of course, the Central House, a replica of a 17 century New England village." "Very good Ms. Vergini, at least you have done your reading. You understand the role of the Center House?" He peered down at her over the top of his glasses. "Yes, I mean, I am not sure what you mean Professor." Bianca stood stiff straight, her arms crossed behind her back, her face and chest flushed bright red. He paused, enjoying the heat of her embarrassment, "The political and religious climates of this era were oppressive. Disobedience was sharply punished." She paused for a moment before answering. "The trials were held in the Court of Oyer and Terminer, to hear and decide. The commissioners, the town elders, lay judgment on all aspects of life, from criminal activity to social indiscretions. The courts were all powerful, and at times were caught up in religious fervor." He nodded, "Perhaps they were acting responsibly. Dissent corrupts the purity of a young woman's soul. Especially young ladies who disobey their elders." Blushing, her words were momentarily lost. "Well Ms. Vergini, out with it." "Sir, Puritan society was harsh towards women. If you were not chaste, you would be punished." "Yes, expectations were high. Virtue and obedience were valued, a simpler time. There were tragedies and mistakes of course. Headstrong zealots succumbed to mass hysteria. Yet in those times women of virtue recognized the need for the firm hand of discipline, even those of excessive spirit. Much like yourself don't you think?" "Sir?" The hallway came to an end, and the Professor pushed on circular face carved into the wall. "A graven image," he said, smiling. The wall swung outwards into a hidden courtyard. He pushed ahead, stepping behind a stone fence. She followed, lowering her eyes against the glare of sunlight. Turning the corner, she gasped. The Professor stood next to a medieval pillory. Her mind flashed to images of the Scarlet Letter, convicted adulterers wearing the red letter A on their chest, their hands and neck clamped between the wooden frame, at the mercy of tormentors and sadists. Catching her breath and composure, she spoke, "I am innocent of wrongdoing." She turned, intent on walking back inside, but the Professor firmly took her hands. "You are slut in need of punishment." Leading her to the stocks, he lifted the upper wooden frame, "Bend over." She leaned forward, resting her neck and wrists in the circular carved-out slots. As she took a breath he swung down the hinged wood beam and latched it in place. Stepping back, he watched her legs tremble. Buried in the ground by her feet were two metal supports, each securing a chain that held an iron ring. Kneeling down, he tied each of her feet to one of the rings, forcing her stance outwards, her weight shifting forward into the stocks. The Professor stood back, enjoying how her skirt pulled up over her hips, exposing lacy white panties. As he watched, her hips began to shift, and he could see wetness seeping through the cotton swath stretched over her cunt. "Nasty slut," he intoned. His hand reached out, his fingertip running over the curve of her ass. Grabbing her panties, he ripped downwards with a violent jerk. A shudder rippled through her, and a low guttural moan sang from deep within her chest. Stepping around the stocks, he wiped the sweat from her forehead with the torn underwear. "Open your mouth," he commanded. She obeyed, and he gagged her with the panties. "The only sound anyone to be heard from you will be whore groans of pleasure." Her eyes looked upwards. Undoing his tie, he blindfolded her. "Some of those violating you may prefer to remain anonymous," he whispered, stroking her hair. She heard his footsteps walking away. Her skin stung where the panties had been ripped away; the air cold against the wetness dripping down the inside of her thighs. Totally exposed, she tried to move her head, hoping for a flash of light or a familiar sound. The moment extended, her body twisting like the string of a cello being tightened and plucked. "What a luscious piece of naughty candy." A deep male voice jarred Bianca. She tried to talk, but could only mumble through the gag. Rough ringers slid across her buttocks, squeezing the back of her thighs. A powerful slap on her ass jolted her. "Shameless whore. My cock will enjoy being buried in your sweet cunt. But first, let's see the talents of that slut mouth." A hand stroked her hair. The muscles in her body froze. Fingers wrapped themselves in her hair, and then pulled sharply, a brief jolt of pain. The panties were plucked from her mouth, and as she gasped a deep breath, the swollen head of a cock traced her lips. "Suck my knob." As she opened her mouth to protest, the cock plunged in, buried in her throat. A hand clutching her head guided her mouth as he fucked her face. "God yes, you suck like a starving whore. The Professor is quite gracious in sharing your sweet prizes." Bianca stretched her lips and throat trying to inhale his swollen rod in her mouth. She found a rhythm, her jaw relaxing, her tongue swirling, and hearing a groan, she felt his manhood swell. The hand twisted her hair and held her tight, her nose buried as she swallowed him completely. She was aware of guttural breathing, grunts of pleasure. She quivered and shook, rocking in place. Suddenly, the cock slipped from her mouth, and a hand shoved the panties back in, gagging her. Silence hovered, a trickle of wetness leaking steadily from her pussy. She tasted precum on her tongue; her jawed ached, remembering his hardness pounding in her mouth. "She's a good little fuck isn't she?" She tried to turn her head to the voice, wondering how many there were. Fingers wrapped and wound the cloth of her blouse, pulling tight and with a hard pull, ripped it off. Bianca flushed, exposed, her nipples hardened, her pussy gushing, her soft breasts swaying as she tried to move her tethered legs. The flat palm landed on her ass checks, "Such tender young flesh." Hot breath and the firm push of tongue split her cunt lips. She groaned, trying to thrust her hips backwards, the swirling heat of tongue rippling along her spine, teasing her pussy, licking and plying. A thumb slide into her asshole as the tongue swirled and probed. The mouth on her pussy pulled away, leaving her begging for relief. Hands squeezed her hips, spreading her cheeks. And a cock slammed into her cunt. Her ensnared hips pushed back, accepting the pounding hips crashing into her from behind. A hand spanked her ass. The frenzied pounding phallus in her cunt picked up in tempo, plunging and releasing, again and again and again. Catching her breath, she felt hot red handprints burning her ass. Forbidden images and words drifted in her mind as though released from the bottom of a murky swamp. She loved being violated, treated as an object, a cumslut, a fuck toy. The cock pulled out, the anonymous savages who ravaged her slipped away, leaving her hanging from the stocks wondering whether she had been drugged and left in an erotic dream. Lost in her own revelry, no longer worried who or what would come next, she was startled by the sound of the Professor's voice. "You seem well satisfied Slut; being pounded with strange cocks seems to agree with you." "Please, Sir, I am at your mercy." "You shall please me young lady, but first let me clean you up." He removed the blindfold; leaving her locked helplessly in the stocks. The daylight momentarily blinded her. She squinted, trying to focus. The cold splash of water surprised her as a wet cloth gently sponged her mouth and chin. He stepped behind the stocks, and she felt the cold wetness of the cloth on her ass, stroking down between her cheeks and over her thighs. The cloth moved to her back, cleansing and scrubbing. She heard the cloth drop in a bucket, and the sounds of the Professor reaching down. A sharp jolt of cold made her shutter. An ice cube began to trace circles and lines on her back and shoulders. She felt him pressing against her, the warmth of his aroused cock a contrast to the prickle of ice on her skin. Reaching around, he rubbed the ice over her nipples. Her pussy gushed expectantly. A cold finger slid into her anus. She groaned, and the Professor laughed, "I saved your sweet ass for myself." "But, I have never, we have never, I mean, not there." He pushed in another finger, stretching her. "I love your perfectly sculpted ass, the luscious curves taunt me, inviting me." He slid a third finger into her asshole. Sighing, still captive, her only awareness was on the stretching and probing of his fingers. She concentrated on breathing, remembering how large he was, and imagined the girth of his monster stretching her. He removed his fingers. The head of his lubricated cock pressed against her crinkly rosebud. He pushed. She tried to push back against him, her feet and body still trapped. A sharp pain opened her eyes. She moaned, tensing up. "Breath," he commanded, his voice low and distracted. He pushed harder and she felt a pop as the bulbous head pressed inside, the muscular ring of her sphincter gripping the sides of his cock. "Oh God, please, Jesus, oh shit, " she muttered, trying to accept his penetration. He stopped pushing, allowing her to adjust. The moments passed and he felt her relax. "Go ahead, slowly," she murmured. He slowly moved his pelvis forward, keeping a steady pressure, pulling her hips into his, inching his way in, watching her asshole spread and submit until his cock was completely buried in her ass. "Oh shit, oh shit, wow, that's fucking intense, do it, dammit do it," she begged. "Do what?" he barked. "Please, fuck me, pound your big cock inside me." "Are you my ass slut?" He held her still, feeling his cock swell inside her anal grip. "Oh yes, please Sir, please Daddy, please Master, fuck my virgin ass." Drawing himself back, the Professor watched as his cock slid back, her tiny asshole stretched and ravished, and he pushed back in. Back and forth, sawing his cock inside her, harder and harder, pulling her hips, pounding into her. A primal guttural moan escaped from deep within Bianca, her mind lost in sensations, rippling shockwaves of pain and pleasure, each nerve ending echoing with desire. Lost within herself, surrendering to his passion, she moved as one with his thrusting, an electric current ran between them. She could feel his cock swell; the surging blood engorged pumping of his erection, tiny pulsations building in waves, a cascading pulse vibrating against the tight grasp of her rectum. His fingertips dug hard into her hips, embedding his cock more deeply inside until there was no more him or her, just a single pulsating trembling beast lost in the frenzy of lust. He yelled out a warrior's scream of conquest and battle, and she purred cries of joy as the warm spew of his seed exploded into her bowels. ____ Bianca walked next to the Professor, his coat covering her torn blouse and soiled skirt. "Perhaps I should drive you back?" he asked, opening her car door. "I don't know that I trust you, my mom told me not to accept rides with strange men." "Your mother is a wise woman," he grinned. "So, it was really just you, right? You were pretending to be the others?" Bianca looked up at him, eyes wide. He kissed her forehead. "Do not be late for school tomorrow Ms. Vergini."