[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/cs2xln/spycraft_lessons_sexual_interogation_fm_bdsm/)
[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/cuu8uh/spycraft_lessons_part_2_field_work_assignment_mf/)
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I should have been dropping off the package I just picked up, or writing up my report about how the mission went, or getting some rest. Instead, I was giggling like a schoolgirl, running through the night with my classmate, Jeriah.
After entrusting the package to the driver of the car that had picked me up, the two of us had been dropped off just outside the boy’s dormitory, since it was closer. Jeriah had snuck us in the back door, and the two of us loudly snuck through the quiet halls after everyone else had gone to bed.
Once we got to the shared bathroom that was on his floor, we went inside. I had kind of expected that the boy’s bathroom would be… I don’t know, dirtier? But the walls and floors were the same ceramic industrial white that was in our dorms, so I guess they weren’t that bad.
Luckily for us, the showers were at least slightly private, sectioned off into cubicles with a pair of curtains providing a pseudo airlock. It wasn’t much, but it meant that we had a chance of not being discovered if someone came in.
Jeriah turned on the water on full blast, feeling it with his hand to get it the right temperature. He turned to me, his face lit up in excitement. “Say, don’t you need some shampoo for us to do this?”
I pushed him into the water, soaking his clothes and his body. He was wearing a button down white shirt, and I instantly got a peak of his powerful physique.
“Hey now, how would you feel if I did that to-” I cut him off, jumping at him. I wrapped my arms around his strong shoulders and hoisted myself up to latch my mouth to his. The warm water wrapped me up in a comforting bubble as I ground my groin against his.
I’d already been fucked hard that night. I should have been satisfied, or at least cautious. Jeriah had awoken something inside of me though, a hunger that never quite got satisfied. I felt horny almost constantly now, feeling it grumble inside of me when I was trying to concentrate.
Except, it didn’t grumble around Jeriah. With him, it roared.
Jeriah’s strong hands dropped down, gripping my legs to support my weight as I dry humped him. His fingers began to glide up my thighs as our tongues explored each other. I felt him swell in his pants, his hips bucking against me when his fingers found my bare ass.
With a renewed vigor, his fingers pawed at me more, gripping me more tightly against him. I broke our kiss to lean back and moan, the water pulsing against my face.
My lover took the opportunity to push me away from him, setting me down gently on the floor, before pressing me against a different wall. He took a second to pull his sopping wet phone out of his pocket (oops) and set it down on a ledge just big enough for a bar of soap.
He resumed kissing me, his strong hands hiking up my skirt. I groaned loudly into his mouth as nimble fingers massaged my womanhood, and then gently pushed into me. I clutched at him, holding on for balance as he smoothly pumped into me. He began to kiss down my check, along my neck. He began to pull apart a button from my shirt with his teeth.
I suddenly realised where he was planning to go with his foreplay, and panicked. I didn’t want him to go down on me at that moment. I grabbed the lapels of my own shirt and yanked hard, exposing my breasts to him.
Jeriah began to lick and kiss the streams of water off my nipples, before he began to take them into his mouth. I ran my fingers through his hair, and lifted my leg to wrap around his waist. My fingers struggled to undo his belt, then pull open his button and zipper. Finally, after several minutes of distracted struggling, I held my prize: his throbbing cock.
I began to pull him against me with my leg while I jerked him. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked, breaking away my tits. “I can do more, I don’t mind.”
“Please,” I replied, leaning my forehead against his. “Don’t make me beg.”
His grin widened. He gripped his rod, and began to rub it against my outer pussy lips. “Maybe I like it when you beg.”
I moaned, biting my lip. I liked it too. “Please, give me that big beautiful cock. I need to feel it stretching me. Please, I need it so badly, *Sir*-” It was when I called him “*Sir”* that he went wild. His hands reached out for my thighs, pulling me onto him, impaling me with his cock. Air escaped my lungs as his whole body pushed me up against the wall.
His unleashed lust propelled me upwards, his hands gripping my ass, lifting me up like I weighed nothing. His powerful body held me at his complete mercy, his muscular thighs bringing us together like claps of thunder. It scared me. I loved it. I needed it.
I came hard, squeezing myself around him like a python, trying to force him just a little bit deeper inside of me. I could tell two things about Jeriah at that moment. One, he was getting close. I could read that in the strained look in his eyes. Two, he was running out of steam. He was strong, and he had the sexual stamina to go all night, but this position was draining him.
I don’t know what it is about that man that brought out my inner slut to new levels, but I knew just what to say to make his night memorable. I kissed him again, briefly, and then grunted into his ear, “I want it on my face.”
“Wha?” He asked, breaking his concentration.
“I want you to cum all over my pretty little face,” I said. “I want to be covered. I want to be dirty with your cum.” The way his cock bulged inside of me made me wonder if he was going to come right there.
Instead, he pulled back, allowing me to slink to the floor. I landed softly on my ass, and looked up at him. He was jacking off hard and fast, obviously at the brink. I began rubbing my clit as I let every dirty line from every porno I’d ever seen start tumbling out of my mouth.
It felt so natural, so good to be like this for him. His little fuck doll, getting off on the notion of giving him pleasure. The feeling of actively, desperately submitting to him and his pleasure was bringing me hard and fast to another orgasm for myself. My fingers were flying, bringing trembles to my body and voice.
Jeriah was obviously on the last few strokes of pleasure before eruption. I did my best to hasten it. “Do it Sir, please, cum all over me, I’m just your dirty little whore, your slut, I want to feel your-” I was interrupted by a strange musical tone coming from everywhere at once. Jeriah jumped so badly he nearly fell over. The sound reverberated around the tiny shower cubby.
Jeriah immediately stopped touching himself, and grabbed his phone. His eyes bulged. “I’m really sorry, I have to go,” he said, stepping over me.
“Are you fucking serious?” I tried to follow him, wrapping my soaking wet white shirt tightly around myself. My dark nipples were plainly visible. I managed to stumble to my feet. “It can’t wait a couple seconds?”
“I’m really sorry,” Jeriah called over his shoulder. “It’s really important. This isn’t fair to you, and you have every right to be pissed.” By the time he’d gotten to the door, he’d managed to shove his quickly softening dick into his pants. “I’d explain if I had time.” He opened the door, and looked back towards me. “Can you get back to your dorm?”
“Yea,” I started to say, before being cut off.
“Good. I’ll see you later.” Just like that, he was out the door.
“At least change your clothes,” I called out after him. “You’re soaking wet!” The door closed softly, cutting me off from any further comment unless I wanted to try stomping off after him. “Unbelievable,” I said quietly to myself.
I spent the next several minutes rearranging my clothes and ringing the water out of my hair. My shirt was missing quite a few more buttons than I would have liked, and the wet clothes were cold and heavy against my skin, but at least I wasn’t completely naked.
I probably could have just called for a friend to come help bail me out. However, a mischievous tickle in my brain decided it would be a good idea to sneak out instead. I was training to be a spy, wasn’t I? What good are all these classes doing me if I can’t even break out of a dorm bathroom?
Luckily for me, it was late at night, so I had no trouble sneaking through the abandoned halls. I went out the back door and cut across the fields between buildings, avoiding the lit walkways. Getting into my own dorm would be difficult. The only legit entrance was through a corridor that was guarded 24/7. Of course, I had an ID badge to get in, but what fun is that?
The window to my room was around back, on the second level, and somewhat close to a tree. After several attempts, I managed to climb high enough up through the branches that I could catch onto the sill. Then, I attempted to lift the window, and had to resist the urge to slap myself in the face.
I kept my window locked at all times.
Because it was right next to a tree within jumping range.
Obviously.
Rather than give up, I pulled myself higher, trying to figure out if I could jimmy the lock. After frantically struggling to break in, the crimson curtain hanging inside was pulled aside, revealing a ghostly pale face in the darkness. We both screamed.
I started to fall, but managed to keep a grip, barely. My heart was pounding icicles. My breathing was wheezy from exertion and panic. In half a second, the window was flung open, and a pair of thin arms shot out. They gripped the lapels of my nearly ruined shirt and hauled my forcefully into the room.
I collapsed on the floor, unable to speak. “Jesus Christ Kim, are you alright?” my roommate said after a moment.
“I’m fine,” I panted. “Sorry for scaring you.” The light turned on, washing the world in light. Blodwyn crouched down to look at me better, a worried expression twisting her face. I looked around. For fuck’s sake, I had even gotten the wrong window. This was HER room.
“I, uh, had an assignment, and I wanted to practice my sneaking, and, well, I didn’t do a great job,” I stammered, trying to get my heart rate under control. I was sitting up now, at least.
Blodwyn hopped up and went to her bed, before dragging the comforter to me and wrapping it around my shoulders. She knelt down and pulled me into a hug, rubbing my back through the blanket. I immediately felt better as the wet and cold were overpowered by warmth.
“You’re half soaked,” Blodwyn said, “and your shirts all messed up. Talk to me.”
“It’s not that bad. I had an assignment, and then I got asked out on a last minute date. And then… he…” a lump caught in my throat as I tried to process what had happened. “He ditched me. Right when things were going well, you know?”
“Bastard,” Bloodwyn said, comfortingly. She pulled away from me for a moment, peering into my eyes with concern. I took a moment to take her in, as well. Blodwyn was taller than me, thin, with cheekbones that could cut glass. Her long black hair had blue highlights hidden inside of it. Her makeup was usually vibrant, eyeshadow of purple or blue or orange to contrast her pale skin.
Right now, of course, her eyes were puffy from sleep, and she was wearing a black hoodie with overly long sleeves and fleece pants emblazoned with a cartoon character for pajamas. Plus, her choker, which I had never seen her without.
Blodwyn rocked me back and forth for a bit, while I let the adrenaline drain from my body. It was strange to have someone do this for me, to show caring and comfort just because it came naturally to them. I allowed myself to enjoy it.
“So, why are you wet, exactly?” Blodwyn asked eventually.
“Um, we went running through some sprinklers,” I said.
“Oh, that is a fun date! Shame about the rest of it though.”
“Yea. Listen, thanks again for letting me in. I’m really sorry for putting you through all this. I think I’m just going to shower and go to bed.”
Blodwyn loosened her hug and pulled me up. “Okay. Take care of yourself sweetie,” she said, ambushing me with one more hug before I could leave. We bumped against her desk, knocking over a soldering iron stand. “Oh, I got it! You enjoy your shower,” she said, reorganizing her desk. It was crammed with a random assortment of tools.
After my shower, where I finally got around to properly washing my hair, I headed back to my dorm. I walked in to find Blodwyn sitting on the couch in the living room. She stood as I closed the door behind me.
“Hey!” she said, her giggly energy returning as she had time to wake up. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” I replied. It was true. Spending half an hour undistracted in the shower had helped me plan things out for the next few days.
“Great. Listen, if you ever need to talk, or vent, or anything, I’m right here, ok?” Blodwyn said, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I said, and was surprised to find that I meant it. When I’d first met Blodwyn, I pictured myself getting irritated with her fake kindness. It took me longer than I’d like to admit that she was actually sincere.
“Good, good, good,” she said, not moving away. It took a moment before it clicked for me.
“Is there something you would like to talk about?” I asked.
“I, um, I had a question? I heard a rumor? You don’t have to answer it, it’s ok,” Blodwyn said. I nodded for her to go on. “In your espionage classes thing, is there really like, a thing, where you have to, you know,” she said, her face turning crimson.
I sighed. “Yea, the honey pot is real.” Her eyes turned into saucers.
“Do you have to go all the way?” she asked in a breathless whisper.
“You don’t always have to, but if the situation calls for it…” I shrugged as I let the statement hang in the air. Blodwyn clasped her hands to her mouth, sending the loose sleeves of her hoodie flying about like kite strings.
“Gosh,” she said. “I can’t imagine kissing someone for an assignment.” I paused, unsure of how to correct her.
“Blodwyn, can I ask why you have a tongue piercing?”
“I thought it looked pretty, why?”
I didn’t know what to do with that.
The next few days went slowly as I bid my time. Jeriah had shown up to class, and had refused to make eye contact with me. I tried to read his emotions, but I couldn’t get a fix on him. Was he embarrassed? Angry? Confused?
On Friday, the good professor announced that he had a meeting to go to, and unfortunately, would not be able to fulfil his normal office hours. I finally had a window.
I went to his office after class, picked the lock, and let myself in. It was a well maintained office, filled with bookshelves staggering under the weight of leather bound volumes. I took a moment to just stand and breath in the musky scent of his cologne, feeling the smell turn my insides to a quivering jelly.
I started to go through his filing cabinets, working slowly, making sure everything was placed back exactly as I had found it. I even relocked the cabinets as I went through them.
After longer than I’d like to admit, I found where the psych evals were hidden. And then I had my hands on the prize, the folder bearing the name of Jeriah Tate. I flipped it open, finding a dozen pages of densely packed information. History, personality traits, everything I needed boiled down into a packet.
I couldn’t sit down and read it here, there was a chance someone would walk by and start asking questions. Couldn’t take photographs of the pages for later study, because the flash of light could DEFINITELY draw attention.
It was settled then. I would take the packet with me, study it, make copies. Then, next window of opportunity, I bring it back here and reverse steal it back. What were the odds that Professor Gerfrid would need to see the files in the intervening time?
I got everything all set up. Folder in my backpack. Cabinites all locked. Office wiped clean of my prints. I put my backpack on and started to open the door, when it opened for me.
I jumped and squealed in shock and Professor Gerfrid stood on the other side of the door, blinking at me in surprise.
“Miss. Aileas,” he said, “I’m sorry, I thought I mentioned in class. I had a meeting today.”
“Right!” I said, trying to keep my voice from squeaking. “How silly of me.”
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for long,” he said, stepping into the room and brushing past me. The light contact sent shocks waves of goosebumps along my skin. He closed the door, letting it ring out a pair of clicks. He sat down at his desk and gestured me to take the empty seat. I complied without thinking.
“Now then, I think I understand what this is about,” my professor said.
“Hmm?” I asked.
“Your last assignment. You did very well, but it seemed you had some trouble concentrating during, well, the heat of the moment, as it were.” He smiled warmly as my face began to glow red like a blacksmiths steel. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. Most people struggle to keep a clear head in that circumstance.”
“I, well,” I said, then cleared my throat. “I suppose I did let the moment get away from me.”
“And now you’re here to be tutored, is that correct?” Professor Gerfrid said. My eyes went wide with shock. Was he offering what I thought he was offering? Why had the door clicked twice when he closed it? Had he been locking it?
I started nodding me head before I’d even taken time to think this whole thing through. My brain had questions. My body had urgency. The mere thought that there was a possibility that my handsome teacher was about to guide me through the complicated web of intimacy was a maximum priority.
Gerfrid smiled, and leaned back to open a desk drawer. After a moment, he pulled out a coiled bundle of soft red rope, a feather, and a small collection of long thin needles, and a hair brush. “Allow me to show you the best way to learn.”
Over the next few minutes, Professor Gerfrid talked me into letting him wrap the rope around my body, binding my arms behind my back, tied closely to my ankles. My knees were bent and spread wide, allowing easy access under my skirt. The rope criss crossed my body, squeezing my breasts, limiting my breathing, but it also supported me. I was dangling in the middle of the room, hanging from a hook in the ceiling.
Surprisingly, my clothes were still on, even my shoes. Gerfrid had assured me that nudity was not required, much to my frustration.
Professor Gerfrid gently placed an eyeblind on my face, and then softly caressed my cheek. “Think of human sexuality energy as a scale, going from zero to one hundred,” he said in a husky whisper. “When you’re not interested at all, zero. When you’re good and ready to start having sex, you’re probably at around twenty.”
His warm breath tickled my ear and neck as his fingers glided down and settled along my collar bone. “Most people climax at around sixty. Some unfortunate men, or very fortunate women, climax much lower than that.” His fingers began to trail the outline of my body, setting my skin tingling with goose bumps.
“The real trick, then, is to take a person beyond their climax. To bring them past the brink of orgasm, repeatedly, over and over again, and then just a little bit further. Every single time, backing away before they actually begin to crest in pleasure. You can scoot right past their normal limits, you see. With practice, and time, you can bend a person’s mind with pleasure.”
I whimpered and groaned at the same time. His tone had taken on a primal edge, while still retaining the qualities of a kind, authoritative teacher. It was a combination driving me wild, my body aching for him to touch me more. I desperately needed him to touch me harder, to take me roughly. I didn’t say anything, just sat there in my ropes, listening to him drip honeyd words into my ear.
He leaned in closer to me, and I caught a whiff of his cologne, smelling sweetly of spicy fruits with a woody undertone. I also picked up on a slight hint of his natural musk, his hot body pouring pheromones right into me. My head was swimming in a soup of lust and need, my body tingling with anticipation.
“I’ve been watching you very closely,” he whispered directly into my ear, as his fingertips began to dance along the edge of my skirt. “I’d put your orgasmic threshold at around forty five, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I,” I began, but my voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I guess so.” My voice was shaking. I could feel a thin trail of wetness escaping the gusset of my panties, racing down my thigh.
“I would like to see about getting you to eighty, although that may not be completely safe. And where are you now?” Professor Gerfrid asked.
It was a difficult question to answer. If twenty meant you were ready to start fucking, I’d passed that a while ago. On the other hand, I didn’t want my teacher to think I couldn’t control myself. Maybe that was silly, since that’s what I was ostensibly here for, but I couldn’t shake my pride. “Um, ten? Maybe twelve, I guess?”
Right as I said that, the trail of pussy juice that had been leaking down my trembling thigh terminated into a drop. I could feel it leap off my skin, and could hear it loudly plop against the hard leather of Professor Gerfrid’s shoe.
“Interesting,” Gerfrid said, his voice rolling with intrigue. “You know, I will have to punish you for lying.”
I could feel it starting. The months of taking his classes, the heat radiating from his body, the cologne, the sexy voice growling in my ear, the excruciatingly slow foreplay, and now at last, a promise of things to come. The warm bubble of energy that had been growing deep inside my belly began to strobe with pulsing energy as the building tension between us began to push me to orgasm.
Professor Gerfrid stepped away from me that instant, letting my body twist and turn in mid air as I fought to control my own libido. I ground my teeth as I fought to keep from convulsing in front of him, but the shame of climaxing so easily was driving my orgasm forward.
After an eternity of seeing fireworks explode in the darkness of the eyeblind, I finally managed to walk myself back from the brink of climax. I was panting as I swung through the air, the air chilling my sweat soaked body. My orgasm was still threatening to claim me, but I was safe for now.
From several feet away, I heard Professor Gerfrid’s polite voice ask, “Shall we begin with the feather?” My body began to clench up on itself again.
I had no way of tracking the time as Professor Gerfrid tormented me, before letting me catch my breath. Over and over with his damn feather, always slightly tickling me in a random spot that I had no business getting me off. He explained that there were neuropathways all over the body that could give extreme pleasure if stimulated the correct way. It still shocked me that the left knee pit could be an erotic zone.
My whole body was throbbing with an erotic electricity now. He had been giving me less and less time to recover, but I hadn’t needed as much time either. Now that we’d been moving past my orgasmic threhold, I almost needed to come down before I’d be able to climax.
I tried to be a good student. I wanted to be a proud, disciplined young woman who maintained a professional sense of decorum during a totally on the level tutoring session. I failed miserably. The dam eventually broke, and I began promising him that he could have his way with me any way he wanted.
I told him that I would be his personal fuck toy, that I would come to him whenever he wanted me to be his slut, that he could just use me and send me away any time he wanted. I begged him to let me suck his cock, to let me be his whore, pledging that I could fulfill any twisted fantasy he could come up with. That I would do anything he wanted, whenever he wanted it.
His will was much stronger than mine. He kept talking to me in that soothing voice, only barely laced with his own repressed desire. The entire time, barely touching me at all, only grazing me with that feather. It felt like my mind was melting into a bowl of hormones. My skin burned with need. My nipples felt like they were going to rip a hole in my shirt. My panties had long ago soaked completely through.
At long last, the blindfold was pulled away. Professor Gerfrid was peering into my eyes, with a mildly concerned look on his face. “Open your mouth and drink,” he gently commanded. He brought a bottle of some blue sports drink to my lips. I eagerly accepted the fluid. I hadn’t realized just how dehydrated I was getting.
And also- God help me- I was wound up so tight that just the sensation of blue raspberry sugar water being greedily gulped down my throat was enough stimulation to make my clitorous into a match head of sexual heat.
After he took the bottle away, I looked around the room, and managed to pick up a couple things. One, we hadn’t even TOUCHED the other toys that Professor Gerfrid had set up on the table, and two, there was now a camera on a tripod pointing directly at me. Somehow, in my lust addled brain, I didn’t mind at all, but I was surprised that I hadn’t noticed it being set up at any point.
“I think it’s time we end this,” Professor Gerfrid said, gazing into my wide eyes.
“No, please, don’t send me away, I need you-” I began babbling. I was no longer capable of thinking straight.
“Don’t you want to cum?” Professor Gerfrid asked.
“Yes, oh God yes, please let me cum, I’ll do anything-”
“Look into that camera over there, and tell me how much you want me to fuck you.” Processor Gerfrid gently spun my dangling body to more directly face the camera.
I began talking as quickly as I could, tripping over my words, interrupting myself as I tried to express to the camera that I was maybe feeling a little randy. Behind me, I could feel Professor Gerfrid’s hand slide up my skirt. When I felt him gently tug my panties to the side, I couldn’t keep talking. I was mute in anticipation.
That’s when I felt him slide into me. I nearly blacked out it felt so good. A sublime, perfect cock sliding into me, stretching my clenching pussy nearly to the brink of pain. As he began to gently saw his rod in and out of me, I felt like I was watching us from outside my body. It felt completely surreal as I shuddered and bucked against him.
The orgasm that I had been denied crashed through me like a tsunami, completely flooding my senses and washing away any thoughts not centered on the pure bliss that was washing over every nerve ending.
It wasn’t alone. Before that orgasm even ended, the next one started. It kept up like that, as I slowly wound down from the tower of sexual tension that I had been built into. One orgasm eating the last one’s tail, until my body was completely limp. I couldn’t move at all, except for the shudders that occasionally managed to rack through me.
My vision was dim, and my breath was fast and shallow when I felt a terrible emptiness. Professor Gerfrid had pulled out, and was now untying the ropes to gently let me down. Even now, in a near catatonic state, I tried to reach out for him, tried to paw at his groin and keep going.
As my breathing calmed and my senses started to return, I found myself sitting on the floor. I was propped up against Professor Gerfrid’s chest, his legs splayed around me. One of his arms was around my waist, hugging me against him. The other arm was brushing my hair, in slow soothing strokes.
I could feel a firm bulge against the small of my back. I felt disappointed in myself that I couldn’t give Professor Gerfrid as much pleasure as he’d given me. Maybe he’d let me keep trying.
“This feels really nice,” I said, enjoying the slight pull against my scalp as the brush made it’s repeated voyage. I’d never had another person brush my hair before. Now I understood why animals groom each other.
“Feeling better?” Professor Gerfrid asked. I nodded, nuzzling up against him. Professor Gerfrid sighed. “I sincerely apologize, Miss. Aileas. This was irresponsible of me.”
“No! Don’t apologize,” I said, my voice rough. “That was great.”
“That was dangerous. There is real danger in this practice. I pushed you too far, and as your Professor, I should damn well know better. I am responsible for your safety, and I shouldn’t be bringing you to the brink of… well, it’s better if you don’t worry about it for now.”
“Brink of what?”
Professor Gerfrid sighed again. “There’s a certain point that if you push someone… they don’t always come back. It’s called a mind break. You were at that point, or very near to it. I should have been more careful.”
I shuddered slightly. “So is that what happens at eighty?”
“It’s different for everyone. You were only at around sixty five when I had to end it.”
I felt a pit rumble deep in my stomach. “You mean sex can feel better than that?”
“Everyone has a different capacity to experience sensuality. You seem… unique. You are far more capable of enjoying sex than most people. It’s not a bad thing. It does, however, mean that we will have to be cautious with future missions.”
“And future lessons?” I asked, hopefully.
“I’m not sure if that’s the best idea.”
That felt like a gut punch. “Well, how am I supposed to be safe if you won’t give me the tools to control this?”
I could feel Professor Gerfrid’s body tense as he tried to think of an argument, but then he relaxed. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, you need rest and plenty of fluids. You will need recovery time as your body adapts to its new… experiences.”
After I’d regained the ability to stand on my own feet, Professor Gerfrid gave me the disc from the video camera. He then walked me to my dorm. I insisted I was fine, but it was for the best that he came with me. My rubbery legs nearly failed me a few times on the short trip back.
Once I was home, and safe in bed, I immediately fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. I woke up a few times in the middle of the night, going from completely unconscious to a body-cramping orgasm seemingly from nowhere.
The next morning, after throwing my sheets in the wash and putting a towel down on my mattress, I put the disc from the previous night in my laptop. It began shortly after I’d been blind folded. I skipped ahead, finding the place where my blindfold came off. Apparently, I’d spent about forty-five minutes being teased with that feather. Talk about foreplay.
I kept watching, as Professor Gerfrid spun me to the video camera and ordered me to speak to it. He wanted me to see this, to know what I had been going through. I saw the mind break written across my face.
My eyes were crossed, my cheeks were bright red, my tongue hanging out, a bit of drool dangling from the tip. And then I saw something that completely shocked me.
Professor Gerfrid didn’t fuck me. That big, juicy cock that I had felt spreading me open, stretching me… That had been his pinky finger. My pussy had been clamping down so tight, my mind so far gone, that it had felt huge to me at the time.
I watched myself, depraved and sex craved on my little screen, feeling a tidal wave of emotions slide over me. Embarrassment. Shame. Worry that somehow, I might end up stuck like that. But most of all…
I leaned back, and began to rub my fingers against my pussy, getting wetter and hotter watching myself. I rewound and began to watch myself again and again, as I slowly began to finger my dripping cunt, reliving the sensations of last night, until me and the recording climaxed together.
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Hey, you made it down here! This is where all the cool kids hang out!
I want to thank everyone for their comments and PMs, it really does mean a lot to me. I’d like to move into writing in a more professional capacity at some point, so feel free to tell me what parts of the story you enjoyed, and what parts could use some more work. I thrive off of constructive criticism. And praise. And peanut M&Ms. And pictures of kitties.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/d0re24/spycraft_lessons_part_3_teachers_heavy_petting_mf
Do more of this story. My pussy and imagination need it. That is all.