by Mia Luxe
I nod. “Fiiine. Connor.”
There’s no way she knows professor Bold’s first name, so I’m safe.
“See? That wasn’t so hard. Alright, I’ll stop pressing you for deets. Anyways, I think Carlson is into me.”
She launches into a flurry of chatter about him, and ten minutes later I don’t think she’s taken a single breath. I’m glad she’s not interrogating me about Connor anymore. Her phone buzzes, and she opens it with lightning speed.
The smile on her face tells me who it is.
“It’s him! He wants me to come over to pre-drink before the party. I’m going to go meet him since you aren't being any fun.”
I look back at my textbook, trying not to feel jealous.
“Be safe!”
We hug each other before she heads out. We’re the same age, but Shelly feels like having a younger sister.
I love her half to death, but I just hope this new guy doesn't break her heart. She doesn’t exactly have the best track record.
I grab my phone. "Can I come over early?" I text. I can’t wait a second longer to be with professor Bold.
"Come on over," he responds, and I call the cab company. I pull on Lululemon yoga pants and a sports bra under a black t-shirt, clothing that will be ideal for self-defense training. I turn to look at myself in the mirror.
These pants make my ass look good enough to spank.
I cab to his house, enjoying the familiarity of it. It's starting to feel like something… real.
It doesn’t feel like I’m some cliche, a naïve student used by her older prof. He wants to keep me safe. He wants me to know how to protect myself.
His beautiful neighborhood is a favorite, familiar getaway. The same gardener sweats in a yard, toiling away. The same jet black Mercedes that I’ve seen around the area is in the rear-view. We arrive at Connor’s house and the gates open up, and the cab crawls up the winding driveway all the way to the top. The same surge of nervous anticipation fills me as I stand in front of the massive door.
I put up my fist to knock when the door opens.
Connor stands looming above me, wearing a t-shirt that shows all his muscles and Underarmor shorts.
"You look like you're ready to train," I say as way of hello.
I step into his house and he closes the door behind me. I pull my coat off, revealing my athletic wear.
“So do you.”
Without warning he pulls me close, kissing me deep and pushing me against the wall. The suddenness sends a wave of desire through me, his powerful physique pressing against me as his tongue invades my mouth. I know he could do anything he wanted to me. He breaks off the kiss and whispers in my ear.
“If some asshole tries that on you, you’re going to know exactly what to do.”
I bite my lip, aching for him. For a second I thought he was going to pick me up and carry me right to this bedroom.
"This way," he says, and I follow. "Step into my gym."
I follow him, not sure what to expect.
His gym is a large room with padded floors and a punching bag. In the corner is a weight bench.
“Do you fight?”
"I used to, back in the police academy. Boxing, mostly. I had to get better at MMA for undercover work. You know, my fighting was a major reason I got picked for the assignment.”
“Why’s that?”
He grimaces. “Joe Maturi needed a bodyguard. Which he picked from an underground fighting ring. I’m going to teach you some of the things I used to survive in the fighting pits.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“You have no idea. Ready to start? Come here.”
I step forward in front of the punching bag.
“Put your hands up,” he says.
I put my hands up, squaring off in front of the bag. He takes my hand and pulls my thumb out from my first.
"Punch it, lightly."
I punch the bag, amazed by how hard it is against my fist.
"Not bad. Now tell me. If you ever get attacked or feel threatened, what's the first thing you want to do?"
Punching the bag made me feel fierceness. "Punch him!"
He shakes his head. "No. You run the other way! The only reason to ever fight is as a last resort. There’s rarely a winner in a street fight, just two bruised up, hurt people. Sometimes one ends up in the ambulance and the other in the paddy wagon. But if your back’s to the wall, you fight with everything you got. Hit their balls, throat, eyes. You’re small, and you’re quick, so your best bet is always to not get caught.”
He works me through the motions, and I learn the difference between an uppercut and a jab. Soon I'm sweating, but he could be made from a block of ice.
He must do this a lot.
He keeps me moving as I punch, hopping from one foot to another, and it's tiring as hell. He is behind the bag, holding it in place as I strike it over and over.
"This is tough," I say, breathing heavily.
"I know. We can take a break if you want."
I shake my head, looking into his intense green eyes.
"I should know how to defend myself if I want a career in law enforcement."
When I say the words, it's like I finally know what I want to do with my life. I don't feel adrift. I want to be like Connor. I want to put the lowest, vilest criminals behind bars. I slam my fist against the bag even harder, making it quake.
Connor lets go of the back, moving in front of it.
"A bag is a lot different from a person.”
He can’t mean…
“Punch me.”
“You’re joking!”
He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. You won’t hurt me.”
I throw a punch at his stomach, and suddenly he isn't there.
I hit only air.
"Try again."
I punch again, harder, twice in succession. My second blow just grazes his stomach. It's like he knows exactly where my punch is going to land before I even throw it.
"It's not that easy in a fight. You're going to need the element of surprise if you want to take out a guy bigger than you."
I know my body is tiring, but I try once more. He stands still, and I slam my fist against his abs.
He grits his teeth but doesn’t make a sound. It’s like a I punched a boulder.
Pain shoots through my hand.
"Ouch!"
"Hurts, doesn't it?”
I nod. He rushes forward, and in the blink of an eye, he has me in his arms. He takes me to the ground, lightning fast. I brace for impact but we fall to the ground feather soft. He has complete control over his own body… and mine. He is on top of me, his eyes inches from mine, his powerful body pressing down. I feel the familiar warmth between my legs, slick from the way he’s able to manhandle me so easily.
"Try to get out," he says, and I try my best, pushing and wriggling. It's like trying to move a marble statue for all the good I am doing. My nipples harden painfully in need. There’s something so primally erotic about not being able to get him off of me, of knowing he could do whatever he wanted to me.
"This is harder than it looks," I gasp, panting after three minutes of failure.
"You’re at a disadvantage. You're lighter than me, and if you want to get away from a guy, you're going to have to fight dirty. You're going to have to knee him in the balls or gouge at his eyes. Try it.”
He wants me to knee him?
I try to knee him, and I barely manage to graze him, but I still hear him gasp.
It's the first sign that I can even hurt him.
"That's good. If I didn’t know it was coming, I’d be worrying about my ability to have kids."
When he says that, I can't help but bite my lip. Those words send a base desire through me, a desire I push out of my head as I focus on the situation at hand.
Feeling him on top of me, his body pressing down on me makes electric shocks flood through my body. My nipples ache to be touched, every inch of my body wanting him to take me h
ard. There is a hot wetness between my legs.
"That's great for a first lesson," he says, and he is about to get off of me when I pull him close and kiss him.
"Connor..." I say, and with the first word, it's like a floodgate opening. "I know this is serious, but feeling you on top of me, so fucking strong... it's really turning me on.”
His eyes stare into me, and he kisses me gently.
"Tell me what you’re thinking."
I hesitate, looking into his beautiful green eyes.
“I want… I want to try and fight you off… and I don’t want you to stop.”
His eyes widen.
“What exactly do you mean?”
I feel suddenly shy. “Not being able to stop you from doing anything you want to me turns me on so fucking much. Is that weird?”
He stands up, reaching his hand out and helps me to my feet.
“I don’t think it’s weird. We both know it’s just a fantasy, and you shouldn’t be ashamed of what you want.”
I nod, feeling more vulnerable than ever before. The feeling of opening up and telling him everything I want is exhilarating.
“I want you to have your way with me. I want you to fuck me roughly, and I want to try to fight you off every step of the way.”
“You still haven’t used the safe-word, or even said orange to slow things down. If we’re going to do this, we both have to feel comfortable. Promise me you’ll use the safe-word if want to stop?”
“I promise. I’m so sweaty, I’m just going to go shower… then we can have some fun,” I say.
Oh God, he’s really going to overpower me and have his way with me. This is so fucking hot.
I walk past him when he grabs me, pulling me close to him. My heart pounds as I wriggle, my slick arms managing to get me free for a second.
“Hey!”
Before I can say more he’s on me, pulling me to the ground, his body on top of mine.
It’s exhilarating, feeling him pull me to the ground, his muscular arms pushing me down as he mounts me. I lash out at him, trying to punch and kick, but he’s immovable.
I’m so utterly helpless.
I wriggle and squirm, trying to escape him as he reaches down and rips a hole in my leggings at the crotch. The sound of the material ripping open as my pussy is exposed is louder than my harsh, panting breath. His iron-hard cock presses against me and he pushes my thong to the side, thrusting into me hard. I’m so fucking wet the entire length of his huge cock slides all the way into me, and I moan out in pure pleasure.
He pulls the shirt from his head, and I use the split second to punch him in the stomach, but he ignores my attempt to stop him. His cock is deep inside of me, sliding in and out of me as I try desperately to fight him off. I might as well be punching a brick wall. It's equally easy for him to unhook my bra as I fight and struggle, and it shocks me how easily he has complete control over me.
“Looks like I win,” he says with a cocky grin. There’s nothing I can do to stop him from fucking me hard.
I try one last time to push against his arms and give up, letting him have his way with me. It isn't the brutally hard fuck I was expecting, but I told him to use me in any way he wanted... and he wants to take me slow and hard.
He fucks me steadily, and I feel myself getting closer and closer to orgasm. He pins my arms down, thrusting his dick deep inside me until pure bliss overcomes my body and I gasp out in pleasure, my body shuddering and shaking. I cum hard as he fucks me deep and slow, my arms pinned down completely and I can’t move as he ravages my body.
When my orgasm subsides he flexes his cock inside me, holding still. Then he leans forward, his mouth next to my ear.
"I think it's time to punish you for today's naughty behavior," he growls, and I remember how slutty I felt under his desk in his office, sucking his huge cock with another woman in the room.
With those words he slides himself out of me, letting me go and standing, leaving me naked and eager for whatever he has in store for me.
He helps me up, and I’m panting from the exhilaration of being overpowered.
If Connor wanted he could press me against the wall and have his way with me anytime he wanted.
He kisses me, pulling me close.
"You were very naughty today, weren't you, Willow?"
I’m still trembling from the orgasm, and his arm is wrapped around my waist, steadying me.
"Yes sir," I say, and I reach down and stroke his cock, making him growl.
"I'll give you a choice... you can take a light spanking, or we can keep your fantasy going.”
His cock is so fucking hard in my hand, wet with my own juices as I stroke him.
Keep the fantasy going?
“Tell me more.”
He looks down at me without laughter. His face is stern, commanding, and pure dom.
“You can try to get away from me… but if I catch you, I’m going to turn your ass red.”
The second he says the word “red” I push with all my might, not trying to knock him over but using his body as a springboard. I jump away, feeling him behind me, my heart pumping in exhilaration. He gropes for me, his arms catching only air as I slip through his grasp and get away. If he can get even one hand on me, he’s going to pull me to the ground again and spank me until I cry.
His finger’s graze against me but I slip away.
I fake to the left where he expects me to hide behind the punching bag. As soon as he falls for it I rush forward, feeling his hand touching my arm, trying to pull me back when I get out and into the main hallway. My heart pounds with exhilaration.
He was expecting to catch me easily. I want him to work for it.
I want him to punish me hard.
My feet patter on the hardwood floor as I rush into the kitchen, but before I can decide where to go next he's on me. His arms wrap around my waist and pick me up as my legs kick in the air. He throws me over his shoulder like I'm weightless. I slap at his back, but he ignores me and walks up the stairs with me over his shoulder, wriggling to get away.
Oh fuck, am I going to be able to handle this?
He sits down on the bed, pressing me against his lap. I’m just below his hard, throbbing dick.
I fight and kick, but I can't do anything to stop him as he brings his hand down hard on my ass.
He isn’t playing around. He rips my Lululemons off completely, throwing the tattered remains to the floor. He cracks his hand hard against my ass again, then pulls my panties off, throwing them away.
"Ow!" I moan, and he responds by slapping my ass again, even harder. I can see myself in the mirror, my hair a mess, my body sweaty and nude as I fight to get away from the rough punishment. He is merciless. His hand slaps down over and over, sending hard cracks of noise and pain through my tender buttocks. His left arm is pressing me down against his legs as his right arm abuses the flesh of my ass.
"You've been so fucking naughty, Willow," he says, growling as he brings his hand down on my right buttock so hard that my whole body jumps as I try to get away from him.
Oh fuck this is so humiliating.
As soon as I even think the word orange, he slides his fingers into my wetness, fingering me rougher than he ever has before. I'm so wet it feels incredible, the way his fingers invade me and coax intense pleasure out of me that exceeds the stinging pain in my rump.
"What a little slut you were today, sucking my dick beneath my desk while I spoke with another prof. I want you to say it, Willow, tell me what a little slut you are for me."
His two thick fingers are making the "come here" motion against my g-spot, and the deep pleasure makes me writhe and move almost as much as when I was trying to escape the punishment. My body and mind are tingling with overwhelming sensation.
"I'm your little slut, master," I moan, barely able to form coherent words.
Just as soon as I am getting used to the pleasure he removes his fingers and I moan in lust and fear, knowing he's going to keep spanking
me.
"That's right. And you deserve to be punished," he growls, and he slaps my ass again, over and over in quick succession. I have to watch in the mirror, getting a moment’s warning before his hand comes down on my reddening ass. Tears well up in my eyes from the pain.
The instant before the pain and humiliation becomes unbearable his fingers slide into me again, fingering me quicker, rhythmically pleasuring me in a crescendo and I stop fighting against him, letting him do whatever he wants to me. The intensity of the pleasure rushes through my body, wave after wave and I'm starting to get close. I see myself in the mirror, the slutty young college student over the lap of her decade older professor and the powerful, erotic shame of the situation gets me closer and closer to cumming.
"You want to cum for your master, don't you?"
"Oh fuck, I'm so close."
His fingers slow down just the slightest bit, enough to keep me on the edge, frustration and lust filling my body.
I'm so fucking close.
"Beg for it, slut."
Shame overwhelms me, shame so deeply, erotically humiliating.
"Please, sir, please let me cum for you," I beg, and the tears that welled up in my eyes when he spanked me spill out from frustrated desire. His fingers steadily rub against my g spot, and I'm so close I can feel the orgasm ready to cascade over me. It’s like a dam full of icemelt ready to burst over.
"Cum for me, Willow," he growls, and he slides a third fat finger into me and curls it up, stretching me and making me cum instantly. I scream out in pleasure and he doesn't stop. I'm absolutely overwhelmed by the lightning sensations of my orgasm until it becomes too pleasurable and intense, and I moan out.
"Fuck Professor Bold, orange," I say, and he withdraws his fingers from me. He lets me breathe for a few moments, gently stroking my sore bottom. My breath is hot and quick on his lap. He soothes me, and my body seems to jump and shake without my control.
"I didn't mean for it to get too intense," he says, though I almost forget I used our warning word orange.
"The pain I can take, but holy fuck I get sensitive after I cum. I just couldn't handle it." My words come out panting, and I lay on over his lap like a ragdoll.
I'm acutely aware of the gorgeous, hard throbbing dick that is still unsatisfied and pressing against me. As soon as I can trust my legs to let me stand, I get up and face Connor Bold fiercly. The pain from his spanking makes me feel more confident.
