by Felicia King
Contents
CHAPTER ONE Anything For The A
CHAPTER ONE
Anything For The A
I gulped nervously as I raised my fist to knock on my professor's door. He was an intimidating man at the best of times, and right now I knew I was not in his good graces. I had gotten swamped with work from the numerous other classes I was taking, and had submitted an important paper two hours past the deadline. I knew Mr. Cole had a strict policy on late assignments, but I was sure he would have overlooked mine being mere hours late. I expected, at the worst, for him to dock points as a penalty, which I considered fair. What I had not been expecting was to see the giant "0" staring back at me from the screen when I had logged in to check my grade earlier today. The only comment on the assignment was a single word: "LATE".
As soon as I had recovered from the shock, I fired off an email to Mr. Cole. I apologized profusely, explaining what had happened. The truth was, my college career was in dire straits this semester. I was taking far too many classes, and I felt buried alive under the workload. This paper was worth a major chunk of my grade, and I knew without finding some way to bring it up, I would never be able to pass this class.
I explained all of this in the email, hoping against hope that he would reconsider, or at least give me some kind of option to make up the slack. I hit send, and waited. And waited. I checked my e-mail periodically throughout the day, refreshing my inbox whenever I had a spare moment in between classes. But there was no reply.
And that's how I ended up here, standing outside Mr. Cole's office door. It was after hours, and all I had planned on doing was slipping a note into his mailbox, requesting to set up a meeting for us to discuss the grade. I thought maybe a handwritten message would be more effective than an email. He had hundreds of students after all, who knew how many sent annoying emails about grading issues?
But when I arrived, I saw a light on underneath his door. Clearly he was in there, working late. I hesitated, not sure whether it would be better just to slip the note in and leave. I felt cowardly just for considering it, but suddenly I wanted to do anything but confront him face to face about the issue.
Instead, I steeled myself, steadied my shaking hand, and knocked on the door.
"Come in," was the response.
I took a deep breath, and entered, mentally rehearsing what I would say. Finding him working late like this had caught me off guard, and I was having trouble remembering the argument I had planned.
He didn't look up at first. He had his head down, intently looking over some papers he was grading. It gave me a chance to study him up close for a moment. He was in his mid-forties, with thick, rich brown hair that was starting to look like it needed a haircut. He was wearing a white button-down shirt. The top two buttons were unbuttoned, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing strong forearms.
He must've felt my gaze, because he glanced up from the stack of papers, meeting my eyes.
"Ah, hello Melissa," he greeted me.
"Um...it's Cassandra, actually," I corrected him, a sinking feeling in my stomach. He didn't even have a clue who I was! "My name is Cassandra Smith. I sent you an email earlier today. You gave me a zero on my mid-term paper, because it was two hours late."
"Yes, now I remember. Well Ms. Smith, I received your email, but I'm afraid my policies about late assignments are not negotiable."
"I understand, but I just thought that maybe..."
"That will be all," he said, interrupting what I had been about to say, returning his attention to the stack of papers that he was working on. It was clear he was not willing to discuss the matter at all.
My heart jumped into my throat. I couldn't believe he was dismissing me, just like that!
"Wait...isn't there something I could do to earn some extra credit, to make up for the bad grade on the paper? I'll do anything."
I truly don't know what came over me at that moment. Maybe the stress of the semester had finally driven me insane. Maybe it was the sudden flood of attraction I felt Before he had a chance to respond, my hand had slid beneath the desk, finding his knee. I began to rub his thigh through his trousers, slowly working my way up. This was a hail Mary, for sure, and if it failed it was going to fail spectacularly. I half expected him to leap to his feet in outrage and order me away, probably flunking me altogether right then and there. To my relief, he stayed seated, and slightly, emboldened, I let my hand wander farther up. His erection was already starting to bulge against his trousers, and I ran my hand up and down it, noting its impressive size.
Tentatively, I looked up to meet his gaze, my eyes pleading. He stared back, his eyes calculating and his countenance far more controlled than the raging erection in my hand would lead me to believe. He stood up, and my heart jumped into my throat, but instead of ordering me out of his office, he went to the door and locked it.
"Stand up," he said. His voice was low, but it bore an edge I hadn't heard before, one which made it impossible to ignore his command. I stood, and he looked me up and down slowly, his eyes lingering on the swell of my breasts and the curve of my ample hips and ass. I felt my face turning hot at such an unabashed survey, and I found myself wondering if I really wanted to go through with this. Mr. Cole had always been attractive, but now there was a predatory gleam in his eye which made my resolve tremble slightly.
"Take off your clothes," he ordered, and I hesitated a second, making up my mind, before I obeyed. I unbuttoned my blouse and let it fall to the floor, and my skirt followed shortly after. Now I was standing there, in the middle of my professor's office, wearing only my black bra and matching lacy boyshorts. The room was slightly drafty, causing goosebumps to rise on my arms, and I was acutely aware of how hard my nipples were against the fabric of my bra. In contrast, my pussy was rapidly growing hotter and wetter as his gaze raked over my exposed flesh. I wanted him to touch me in all the places where his eyes were lingering.
He surveyed my body for several long seconds before speaking again. "Turn around and place your hands on the desk," he said. I did as I was instructed, wondering where this was going.
He stepped up close behind me, and at last he touched me, running his hand down my lower back and over the curve of my lace-clad ass. His touch was warm and his hand surprisingly big and strong. With his other hand, he reached underneath my bra, cupping one of my silky breasts in his hand. His other hand lingered on my ass, lightly caressing the spot where it met my upper thigh. He squeezed my nipple, lightly at first, but then harder. I couldn't help but let out a soft, appreciative moan.
He chuckled in response, applying more pressure to my nipple until the sensation began to border on being painful. He yanked the material of my panties up, until they sat in the crevice between my ass cheeks like a thong, and he left them there, continuing to stroke the newly exposed flesh with his hand. I squirmed a bit as the tight fabric of my panties rubbed against my engorged, tingling clit.
"On the first day of class, I never would've thought I'd have you here, showing me what a good little slut you are. I have to say, I'm pleasantly surprised. But still, I can't have you thinking I reward academic under-performance."
I only had a second to wonder what he meant by that, before he raised his hand and brought it down hard on my bare ass cheek. I yelped in surprise and pain, but this didn't stop him from spanking me a second time, harder.
"Don't make noise," he growled, "unless you want someone to find out what a slut you're being right now." He punctuated this order with a fresh blow, the sound of his palm hitting my flesh echoing through the room with a crack.
"What are you
doing?" I demanded, trying to get away, but he grabbed my shoulder and pushed me down further onto the desk. I struggled, but he kept me pinned down, my breasts crushing the stack of papers he had been grading earlier. My legs splayed out on either side of me and as I tried and failed to regain my footing, my ass felt even more exposed than ever.
"As long as you are my student, you will learn that there are consequences for failing to apply yourself in my class." He punctuated this statement with yet another hard spank, taking full advantage of the fact that he had me trapped in this prone and vulnerable position.
I choked back a whimper, the flesh on my bottom tingling. I wondered if his hand had left an imprint on my soft, white skin. The burning was intense, but with each smack came a reaction I hadn't been expecting...each firm blow sent a jolt of pleasure straight between my legs, and I could feel my pussy growing more swollen and needy by the second. I was growing so wet I could feel my own juices beginning to run down my inner thigh, and I was sure Mr. Cole could see how aroused his punishment was making me. I couldn't stop myself from leaning into it the next time he struck me, flinching from the sting of it across my raw and reddened ass, yet relishing the powerful swirl of pain and pleasure it sent coursing along my nerve endings.
He still had me pinned down on my stomach on his desk, so I couldn't see his reaction, but I heard him chuckle. "What's this?" he asked, and I felt his hand slip down the sore flesh of my backside, towards my pussy. I felt his finger slip between my sensitive folds and swirl around my engorged clit. "You're more of a dirty little whore than I ever would've thought. What's making your pussy so wet?"
"You...you...what you were doing earlier," I stammered through the haze of pleasure as he stroked his finger slowly up and down the length of my sopping wet slit.
He abruptly withdrew his hand and sent another shockingly painful blow across the surface of my ass cheek. I gasped at this new, unexpected wave of pain. My ass was growing so sore and raw, and I couldn't help but whimper helplessly into the wood surface of the desk.
"Answer me properly, unless you want me to hit you again," he said.
"I'm getting so wet from you punishing me," I replied.
Another blow, the hardest yet, connected with my skin, so hard a pencil holder went crashing down from the surface of the desk to the floor. My eyes watered and I moaned in confusion as pain shot through me.
"When you answer, you are to call me Sir. Now, tell me again what's making your pussy get so nice and wet?"
"Your punishment, Sir," I gasped out, my eyes watering and tearing.
"That's better," he said, massaging my sore ass, bringing some relief to my screaming nerve endings. He lowered his hand again, circling the center of my dripping cunt with agonizingly slow strokes.
I was aware that the soft flesh at the upper parts of my thighs had grown slick and sticky from the juices leaking out of my needy, hot hole. My pussy was throbbing with lust, and his fingering was doing nothing but causing the ache to intensify. I was acutely aware of how empty I felt, and I desperately needed him to fill me. "Please..." I gasped, then remembered just in time, "Please....Sir...."
"Please what?"
"Please Sir, I need you to fuck me!" Whatever detached, logical part of my brain that still functioned was aware of how humiliated I should be. I was lying here, prone and helpless, after being spanked like a naughty child, and all I wanted was for Mr. Cole to fuck me senseless. I wanted to be his dirty, wanton little slut, and the thought of him punishing and using my pussy electrified me.
He chuckled. "Is that so?" His big, strong fingers continued their slow, teasing circle around my sopping slit, occasionally brushing against my engorged clit. A moan escaped me, louder than I intended, but my vision was swimming and my body buzzing with need, and I had ceased to care about anything else beside the thought of getting pounded by Mr. Cole's throbbing cock.
He withdrew his hand, and I heard his belt buckle being loosened. Excitement flared inside my needy cunt, and I felt a fresh wave of hot juices starting to cascade down my already soaked thighs.
"Turn around and get on your knees," he ordered.
"But..." I started to protest. Before I could say more, I heard a swish and the strap of Mr. Cole's leather belt came down hard again on my already sore ass. It connected with the most sensitive flesh, right where the cheek and top of my thigh met, creating an explosion of pain. Sparks exploded in front of my eyes, and I squealed involuntarily.
"Do you want me to hit you again with my belt?"
"No, Sir," I replied, my ass still radiating pain from the unexpected blow.
"Then turn around, get on your knees, and suck my cock like the good little slut you are."
I quickly did as he said, lowering myself to the hardwood floor on shaky knees. I almost gasped aloud when I saw, for the first time, Mr. Cole's erect cock standing out stiffly from the unzipped folds of his trousers.
It was by far the biggest cock I had ever seen in real life. And it was rock hard – I could practically see it throbbing – with a tantalizing droplet of pre-cum glistening at the tip. My fingertips barely touched as I wrapped my hand around the girth of its base. I had no idea how on earth I was going to fit that monster in my mouth.
Mr. Cole reached down, twisting his fingers through my hair and pulling my head upwards so I was looking at his face.
"I'm not going to fuck your pussy today, Cassandra. That is for good students, which you haven't been. However, you have been a good little slut for me tonight, and you took your punishment well, so I am going to fuck your face. You're going to suck my giant cock as far down that slutty throat of yours as you can, and you're going to swallow down every drop of cum I give you without complaining. If you do a good job, afterward I might let you finger yourself until you cum. Until then, you are not to touch yourself. You devote all of your attention to servicing my cock. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Sir," I replied.
"Good, now get to work."
At this point, my clit was throbbing to be touched. My pussy still desperately ached to be filled, but since I knew this wasn't going to happen now, I at least needed to get myself off. At the same time, I was surprised to find myself wanting – no, yearning – to suck Mr. Cole's cock. At this point, I had become such a trembling mess of lust that just the thought of having his cum anywhere inside of me was practically enough to bring me to climax.
Eagerly, I went to work with my mouth and hands, sucking and slurping in as much of his massive, pulsing rod in as I could. It was slow going, as anytime I got anywhere close to taking him in more than halfway, my gag reflex kicked in and threatened to choke me. I gamely worked my tongue and lips over the part I could manage, trying to compensate for what I couldn't reach by jerking and stroking its length with my hands.
"Not good enough," Mr. Cole grunted. I felt his hands twisting through my hair again, wrapping strands of it around his fingers as he forced my face down farther on his giant cock.
I gagged in panic as I started to choke.
"If you relax, this will go a lot easier for both of us," he growled, but he stopped for a moment, allowing me to catch my breath and adjust. He used his grip on my hair to yank my head painfully to the side, until I was looking up at him.
My eyes met his as he took in the sight of me, on my knees, struggling and choking. He grinned as he started once again to force his massive rod down my clenching throat. Tears had involuntarily started streaming down my cheeks as I struggled to accommodate it. I was sure streaks of mascara and eyeliner had started running down my face. It was humiliating, degrading. So why was I more turned on than ever? At the moment, I didn't care. I was entirely his, a fuckslave to be used however he wanted for his pleasure. The thought alone was nearly enough to make me cum.
I somehow managed to make myself relax while he continued forcing himself into my mouth, until at last I was taking all of him. His huge member felt like it was going to split my face apart, buried in my throat up
to the hilt. Spit drooled out of the corners of my mouth, and tears were still streaming from my eyes. I felt strings of saliva dangling from my chin, dripping onto my breasts.
He groaned in pleasure, and I felt his cock pulse deep in my throat. "See, Cassandra? You are so very, very good at letting me fuck your throat, once you get used to it. I knew you would be, ever since your first day in my class."
As he spoke, he started to fuck my face, slowly at first. I moaned, the sound muffled by the eleven inches of throbbing meat that was stuffed down my throat.
"Ever since I first saw those gorgeous lips of yours, I knew I had to see how they would look wrapped around my cock. The sight has surpassed even my greatest expectations."
He started to speed up, his cock plunging over and over into my mouth. I struggled, this new sensation threatening to overwhelm my control of my gag reflex. But his fingers were still twisted through my hair, holding me in place, making escape impossible as his drilled into me over and over again.
"Open your eyes, Cassandra," he commanded. "I want you to look me in the eye while I fuck you, so you remember who your Master is. So you remember that I'm the one who turned you into this wanton mess of a whore. Only a whore would still have pussy dripping wet enough to make a puddle on my floor while I use her mouth as my fuckhole."
I knew it was true. I could feel my juices gushing from my hot, needy hole into a slick puddle around my knees.
He was getting close to cumming, I could tell. My pussy clenched excitedly at the thought.
"Look...at...your...Master," he was grunting out each word, punctuating each word with a thrust of his cock, drilling my face with it. My throat was closing and it was getting hard to breathe. But I sat and took the fucking, only able to utter choking moans as my vision started to grow hazy at the edges.
With one final thrust, he buried his cock in my throat up to the hilt, and I felt it pulse as he shot his hot load into me.
"Good...girl," he panted as cum coated the inside of my esophagus, "swallow...everything."
