“I thought I told you not to wear panties to my class,” muttered the Professor as he raised my skirt.
I was sitting on his desk in an empty classroom, digging into the wood with my fingernails and biting my lip. How do I tell him that I wore them on purpose? That I loved it when I disobeyed him and he punished me.
He searched me with his fingers until he felt the handle of the butt plug. “Did you have it in all day?”
I nodded, swallowing a whimper as he pressed on it.
“Remember,” he said. “If you make a sound, we’ll stop.”
I didn’t dare look over my shoulder and meet his eyes. He slapped my ass once. Then, when I didn’t react, he slapped me again to make certain. My cheeks stung from his palm. I imagined that my pale skin was now brilliantly red with his hand print marking me.
With a heavy sigh, he let my skirt drop. “You want an ‘A’ in this class, right?”
I nodded again. Heat rushed to my face, my heart skipped a beat, and then I heard him unbuckle his belt, and I braced myself.
“Good girl,” he said. His pants hit the floor. “Tell me what the ‘A’ stands for.”
“Anal,” I whispered, fighting the urge to touch myself through my panties. I squeezed my hands between my thighs. As he unbuttoned his shirt, I stared at the empty chalk board that he had me wipe down with a sponge.
Then his hands were on my belly. He stood behind me, pressing himself to my backside so that I could feel his hard cock against my ass. “What about ‘B’?” he asked, rubbing my hard nipples through my sweater before he unbuttoned my cardigan.
“Balls-deep,” I said, my voice catching in my throat when he grabbed my tits and squeezed. I always felt like melting in his rough hands.
“C?” he asked, his breath on my ear. His nose in my hair as he massaged my breasts and gently rubbed his cock against my ass.
I wanted to pull up my skirt so I could feel him skin to skin. “Your big, had cock, Professor.”
He stopped there. I could feel it when he pulled away. Sometimes we made it all the way to ‘G,’ but today he was impatient. He yanked down my panties then pulled on the plug till it popped out. I almost cried out, but I clamped a hand over my mouth as he grabbed my head and pushed me down on the desk. This left my ass raised, ready for a pounding.
“Here,” he said, pushing the butt plug against my lips. I sucked it into my mouth greedily, tasting my own flavors as he pressed his tip against my asshole. “Don’t make a fucking sound.”
And I didn’t. Not a squeak as he slid in completely, till he was buried to the hilt. His body against mine, tears running down my reddened face as I sucked on the plug. My forehead was against the table. My ass completely at his mercy.
With every breath, I felt him inside me. His cock stretched out my insides; I could feel its heat, its hardness. Throbbing. Waves of pleasure emanating from somewhere deep inside. My asshole adjusted to his shape.
By now, it was familiar. My flesh had memorized his unrelenting hardness. I craved the way his cock bent slightly to the left. Desperate thoughts flickered through my head as his hips started to move.
I kept my promise and held back every moan, sigh, and whimper. He was relentless. The *smack smack smack* of his body crashing into mine filled the vacant classroom. He squeezed my hips with both hands, so hard that I knew I would wake up tomorrow with dark marks on my skin. But he held me steady on the table and sped up. Large, sloppy sounds as he thrust into my ass, and I had to bite down on my forearm to keep from crying out.
I didn’t make a sound until he grabbed a fistful of my hair, wrenched my head back, and thrust into me so hard that I spat out the plug. A throaty cry burst through my lips. The metal plug bounced a few times then rolled on the classroom floor. He stopped moving, his cock twitching inside me.
“Alright,” he said, sliding out at an agonizingly slow pace.
My heart was in my throat, I could barely breathe. I wanted to turn around and beg him to return, beg him to finish fucking me. Every part of my body felt hot and flush and red, and my muscles ached already from his absence.
He stood quietly behind me for a moment, his presence looming over my trembling form. Then finally, he spoke. “Get on the floor.”
I almost whimpered as I slid off the desk, adjusted my skirt, then dropped to my knees and looked up. My cardigan was wide open. My bottom lip quivered, but I didn’t make a sound again.
He was buttoning up his shirt, his hard cock swaying over my face. Its length glistened, and I could see the precum at his tip, making me salivate at the thought of licking him clean. Of tasting myself on his skin.
When his shirt was buttoned and he’d fixed his sleeves and put on his tie, he placed his hand on my head. “You’re going to put my pants on for me,” he said.
My eyes grew watery as I pulled them up to his thighs. His cock was so close to me that this was torture. But this was my punishment. I’d made a noise. And he seemed to sense how it was affecting me, because he patted my hair.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “You can kiss it goodbye.”
Unable to suppress the smile, I dropped his pants and buried my face in his crotch. Kissing his shaft up and down as he laughed and stroked my hair. I wrapped my lips around his tip and looked up, hoping he understood the fiery need building within me.
And I knew he did. Because he stepped back, away from me, and instructed me to buckle his belt and everything. I could see the bulge in his pants, mocking me. But I didn’t dare utter a word. When I stood up, my pussy dripping, my sweater still open, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and kissed me. His tongue pushed itself into my mouth. An act of dominance I wholeheartedly accepted as I wrapped my thigh around his waist and rubbed myself against his cock.
“You can try again at the end of the day,” he said, a smile on his lips as he kissed me again. “Now help me sort through these assignments and prepare for class.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gs9eqo/the_professors_plaything_mf
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