Life can get really stressful sometimes. The pressures of a full college course load, a full time job, and the feeling of being pulled in a thousand different directions can leave the body feeling drained and hollow. My days are long, homework bleeds into my nights, and more often than not, I’m late for being in places I don’t even want to go to. It may seem like I’m complaining about being overwhelmed, but for the first time in a long time, my ambitions paid off.
The program I’m in affords for some really odd hours. Late nights pouring over medical textbooks, heavy with Latin phrases and grotesque images, getting called away to do an embalming for credits to move onto the next semester. The perk of the course is while some people have to learn in the hypothetical, we have all the instruments needed down in our prep room. I’d already spent a few hours going over the days material, and when the pages started to blur and seep together, I knew it was time to get up, stretch, and go grab the tools I was reviewing, if only to give myself a break.
I gathered up my things, shoved them into my bag, and headed downstairs to the chemistry lab off the prep room. The door was unlocked, and I let myself in. I spread out the material over the lap table, took off my coat, and turned to the steel double doors that separate the rooms. I could hear the sound of my heels clicking off the title floor as I walked towards the room, cold steel sending goose bumps up my arm and across my chest as I gripped the handle.
The door swung open and the room was almost black inside. The neon red exit sign partially illuminated the equipment inside, causing little glints of red light to refract off the clean metal surfaces. The two prep tables that were used for actual medical learning had been pushed to the back to make way for the brand new porcelain table that came by way of generous donation by the father of a student who wasn’t quite so academically inclined. Next to the table was a set of packaged embalming tools. Through the clear plastic of newly minted factory packaging, I could see what was inside. Angular forceps, arterial hemostata, dressing forceps, scalpels in a variety of sizes and a few other tools of the trade.
Running my fingers over the package I thought about all the work I’d put into this degree so far. Time, money, the classes…and the people I have those classes with. Along with being busy all the time, the stress can lead to other means of frustration. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but inside my body, deep down, this bubble had started to form. Frustration, pressure, and a craving for skin to skin contact had begun to move inside me, causing this shivers of need to spider-web out over the surface of my skin, looking for a method of release. I knew no one would be down there for the rest of the night, no supervision while I’m left to my textbooks and 25 index. While being as quiet as I could be, I gripped the clothe cover of the prep table, push off the ground with two little clicks of my heels, and sat with my feet swinging in the air.
The red light made my skin look more blush than it already was as I scooted back and brought one foot up onto the table, making it so much easier to slide my fingers up under my skirt. I could feel that my thong was wet through my pantyhose, already excited at the risk I was taking, even if the odds of getting caught were non-existent. My fingers moved in slow circles while I breathed deeply in and out, getting lost in the feeling. I didn’t noticed until the door was already wide open that another student had walked in.
His eyes went wide at he put the pieces together and came to the full understanding of what he was looking at. I could feel my heart beat racing in my chest, my body completely frozen in place, breathe caught in my throat as I waited for whatever his reaction would be. In one smooth motion, without breaking eye contact, he closed the door and locked us both inside. He took a few steps towards me, reached out past my face, and grabbed a handful of my hair. He pulled it back, exposing my neck, making it hard to turn and look at him. His lips were at my ear now, breathing hot air against my skin making all my little hairs stand on end. “I can help with that, if you want,” he whispered, moving his mouth to my earlobe, biting down softly on its warm flesh, moving his tongue over my stud. “Yes, please,” I mumbled out, not even fully aware of my own voice. He pulled harder, moving to make eye contact with me, placing his other hand gently, but securely, around my throat. ” ‘Yes, please’ what?” he said in a stern voice, like he was talking to a poorly disciplined child. “Yes please, sir,” I said, hoping that it was right. “Good girl,” he said through grinning lips.
He slide both of his hands down from my face onto my thighs, running them up and down slowing, sneaking inches of finger up under my skirt. I spread them open towards him, hoping he’d move higher and play with my already wet pussy. He moved his fingers down, hooked them into the area behind my knees, then pulled me to the head of the table pushing my chest down. He lifted my skirt up, grabbed my pantyhose with both hands, and ripped them apart, exposing my wet pussy to him, my underwear soaked from anticipation. He got down on his knees and placed my heels over his shoulders while he slowly leaned forward. “Be a good girl and keep quiet, or you won’t like what happens next,” he said as he breathed hot area over me. In an instant I could feel his tongue move over my clit, rough stubble rubbed against my inner thighs as a squirmed on the table, trying my best to hold in my moans. My legs flexed around his shoulders as I tried to pull him closer to me, wanting more and more even as he gently bit down on my clit, sending a shock wave of pleasure up the base of my spine. I forgot where I was for a second and moaned too loudly, the sound echoing off the tiled walls.
He stopped at looked up as me, a glint in his eyes that sent just a little shard of fear into my chest. “You don’t listen very well, do you?” he mocked, standing up and reaching for my shirt. “I told you to be quiet, and you couldn’t handle that. Do you know what happens to girls who don’t listen? They get punished,” he said, sighing, as he pulled the metal tray with tools towards him. He held up one finger, as if to say “don’t you dare move,” then he slowly opened the packaging. He reached out for me and pulled open my shirt, sending little black buttons everywhere, exposing my bra. He put one hand around my throat while the other pulled a fresh scalpel from its place in the packaging. He slide it between my tits, under my bra, and cut it open. My bra fell away to the side, exposing my hard nipples to him in the red light. “Maybe you’ll follow my instructions a little better if I show you that I’m not fucking around. Be a good girl, and try not to scream,” he said in a low, deep voice as he picked up one of the arterial hemostats. He pressed the cold metal against the soft tissue of my nipple, moved it into place, then clamped down until the handle clicked and it locked in place. I don’t know what I felt more, the pain of the clamp, or the pleasure of the cold metal against my skin. I hadn’t even gotten used to it before I heard those now familiar clicks on the left side. I was breathing heavily when he started undoing his belt. “Give me your wrists,” he instructed, wrapping the leather band around my wrist, holding them over his head. Sliding one hand under me, he pulled my closer to the end of the table, our hips level now, his pushing against me. I could feel him through is boxers, hard and hot against the soft, wet skin between my legs. “Tell me that you want it,” he whispered in my ear while he moved his hand down the front of his jeans.
“I want it, I really fucking want it, please, sir,” I begged as I tried to push up against him, my legs wrapping around his body as much as I could, pulling him towards me. He pulled his dick out and moved the tip against my clit, already oozing precum. “Beg me for it,” he commanded, giving my clit hard whacks with his erect cock. “Please fuck me, I need it, please,” I whispered, unable to wait any longer. He smiled and pushed his dick into my pussy in one hard motion. It felt like the air had be pulled out of me as he pushed into my body again and again. I could feel his dick pulsating with each thrust, growing faster and faster with each second. He rubbed my clit with his free hand, fast circles over sensitive flesh, making me wriggle on the table. My breathing became louder and louder, moans slipping between my parted lips, matched with his strokes. Moving his hand from my clit, he wrapped his fingers around my mouth, shutting me up, occasionally sliding a finger between my lips and allowing me to suck on them while he fucked me. I could feel myself beginning to climax as the muscle in my body began to tense up. “Are you going to cum?” he asked, grinning down at me, never loosing his pace. “Mmmm,” was all I could manage under his hand, his fingers still held solidly over my mouth. “You can cum when I tell you to,” he said sternly over me, pushing harder with each stroke. With no warning he stopped and pulled out. “I need to you get on your feet,” he said, pulling me forward off the table. “Good girl. Now turn around and spread your feet.
I did as I was instructed and he tied my hands with the bent behind my back. He pushed my torso down till my breast pressed against the cold porcelain, the hemostats making soft thuds against the table cover. He came up behind me, moved his cock over my wet pussy lips and pushed his way inside. His thrusts were faster and deeper, pushing me forward, slamming my clit into the side edge of the table, sending rippled of pleasure up my back and down my legs. His cock pulsing inside me, with my pussy contracting hard around him, I could feel myself beginning to come. “You ready to come, little girl? I want you to come for me, come on my fucking cock, beg for it.” He said as he pulled harder on the belt around my wrists, his hand reaching forward to choke me. “I want to come, please, fuck me till I come, please,” I begged, pushing back against him, slamming my pussy up against his hard cock. With a deep moan he thrusted harder and came inside me, the hot fluid was enough to send me over the edge and I came hard, squeezing his still solid cock inside of me. My knees nearly buckled as he pushed in a few more times, then slowly pulled out, wiping the now dripping jizz off his dick and onto my ass. He undid his belt, zipped up his jeans, and headed towards the prep room door. He didn’t say anything as he pulled the door open, but instead turned to me, smiled, and left just as suddenly as he came.