by Lucy Lixx
THE END
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‘F’ Me Professor
Chapter One
The tingle between my legs was distracting me from Dr. Alexander's lecture, the subtle way he eyed me while switching slides making me both nervous and aroused. He had been looking at me since I sat down today and I pondered for the past forty-five minutes what he might be thinking. The muscles of his upper arm flexed as he switched between points on the screen, the long metal pointer he used for lectures stretching over his head and slapping the plastic. It startled me at one point, the slapping sound making the tingling much worse and forcing me to cross my legs to keep myself from soaking my thighs. I wished time would pass quicker so I could run back to my dorm and rub myself, the sensation growing stronger with every whipping sound the pointing utensil made. Just another twenty minutes and I'd be free.
My professor kept looking over in my direction, his eyes following the line of students until they found me and remained for a little longer than they did on anyone else. This had happened last semester where I found his gaze always leading over in my direction. I would change seats frequently to see if he'd find me, making it a sort of silent game to see how long it would take him to notice my presence. It never took more than a few minutes after the class period commenced and he would always find his way back to my side. A rumor had emerged from the darkness about this particular man, how he was particularly taken with petite young women who were failing. I figured it was just silly gossip created by those who were jealous of his attractive appearance, but my curiosity lingered even months after hearing it.
While adjusting my skirt, I tried to listen to the words of his lecture, but managed to fall into a fantasy about Dr. Alexander striking my bottom with his metal pointing device. It had distracted me so much that I ended up drawing it in the margins of my notebook while he spoke in the background, his voice a monotone comfort setting the pace for my fantastical vision. When the students around me stood to leave, I gathered my books, realizing I had missed most of the main points and hadn't written a damn thing in my notebook. Most of the class was gone by the time I stepped down from the steps of the hall and Dr. Alexander stopped me as I passed his desk.
“Miss Hall?” asked the professor, stopping me in my tracks. “I noticed you hadn't written much during our class today. Is that why you're doing so poorly in my class?”
I turned with a polite smile on my face, hoping he hadn't noticed the drawing, and gave a slight shrug.
“My apologies, professor. I was a bit distracted today,” I replied while twirling a lock of hair.
He studied my features, the green eyes narrowing while exploring mine to make sure I wasn't lying. A sort of curious smirk crossed his face as he parted his lips to speak again. They encapsulated me with his next question.
“And what had you so distracted?” Dr. Alexander asked, his fingers tapping the wood of his desk.
It was difficult to give him a reason for I wasn't quite sure myself, the slapping sounds returning to my ears and making my eyelids flutter briefly. I smiled and shrugged, my usual response to things I couldn't socially handle, and then asked if he needed anything else.
“Your paper, Miss Hall, was an absolute disaster,” he said while tossing it on the desk. “I'm wondering whether I should even bother keeping you in my class. Quite frankly, it's not worth my time to even keep grading anything that you submit.”
I lowered my gaze and rubbed my arm, feeling like an insubordinate child. What was going on with me this semester? I had started off strong and then suddenly plummeted, all of my grades suffering as a result of my poor attendance. My other classes were threatening to drop me as well and I didn't want to lose my scholarship so soon in the year. I had gotten through the winter with no issues, but spring seemed to be kicking me something fierce.
“May I suggest extra credit?” asked Dr. Alexander as I stared at the paper in between us. The red words were menacing against the bright white paper, making them appear to be welts. “You could attend a historical movie viewing tomorrow night with me at the museum and I could give you twenty points to help keep your grade up enough to remain in my class.”
Relief washed over me hearing his offer, my smile wavering as I tried to keep the tears from bursting forth. Extra credit sounded like something that would help keep me floating as I tried to succeed, so I better take the offer now before he redacts it.
“I'll take it,” I said quickly. “When should I be ready?”
“By seven. I expect you to be dressed well for the event because it's special. Wear a gown if you have one and I will pick you up,” he replied.
Thinking we were finished, I turned to leave, but Dr. Alexander made a clicking sound with his mouth.
“Miss Hall,” he said while walking around the desk. “We still haven't settled the matter of your paper. Why don't you step into my office?”
I readjusted the strap of my backpack and walked slowly towards the door as he unlocked it, allowing me passage before shutting it behind us. I started to sit in the chair, but he clicked again and pointed to his desk. What was he asking?
“I don't understand, sir,” I said as I stood.
“There is no way I will allow this piece of crap to go unpunished. It's absolutely despicable,” said Dr. Alexander while placing a hand on my shoulder.
“And I'm going to show you what happens when you give me crap.”
After tossing my backpack aside, he firmly pushed me down against the desk where my paper sat, pressing my cheek to the red marks and awful grammar mistakes. I remember this paper. I had written it while hung-over which was likely the worst time to try to spit out any sort of nonsense from my body. Partying had prevented me from getting it done and I knew it was my fault. I just didn't want to face my professor and ask for an extension, so I gave him something totally unworthy of being read. While looking over the curve of the letters, the professor flipped up my skirt and pulled down my panties, causing me to gasp and sit up.
“Sir!” I cried as he forced me back down to the desk. “I don't think this is appropriate!”
“I don't find it appropriate for you to submit such horrible work, Miss Hall,” he said as he brought his hand down to my bottom.
The sound resembled the noise of the pointing instrument hitting the projector screen and it caused me to squeak, my rose petals twitching in response to the stimulation. Another smack caused me to gush, the fluid leaking slowly and trickling down my thighs. It was so exhilarating that I didn't want him to stop, even as I was thinking about the ramifications of getting involved with a professor. As he slapped my bottom again, I groaned and place my hands up on the desk to brace myself for impact, wiggling my hips side to side as he continued with the same rhythm. Who would have to know about it anyway? It's not like I'd have to tell anyone. The shade over the window was drawn and it was late in the afternoon. No one would be coming around.
“Look at your mistakes,” he said while slapping my exposed rump. “Tell me what you did wrong.”
Sitting up on my elbows, I peered down at the paper and started reading the comments aloud for him to hear. Each mark brought a new wave of pain, making it more difficult to concentrate on the page. The professor insisted that I keep reading until I reached the end where he slapped me so hard that I squealed and flew across the desk. Panting into the mess of pages beneath me, a high took over my body that I had never felt prior to that moment. It was a pain-induced adrenaline rush, electricity trailing through every bit of my body and circling around my rose bud which was now engorged from the intense spanking.
“Sit up, Miss Hall,” he commanded while pulling my arm.
I followed his instruction and remained still, unsure of how to proceed from here. I'd experimented a year ago with something similar, but this was beyond me...and it felt so good. My professor walked across
the room and returned to smooth lotion over the braised skin of my bottom. The cream was such a relief that I sighed and leaned back against his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne that struck my nostrils and made me want him in more ways than this.
“Go home and rewrite this paper. I expect it to be twice as good tomorrow evening when I pick you up,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” I responded while grabbing the paper.
The professor handed me my bag and I left the office, exhilaration still rushing through every corner of my body. I clutched the paper as I walked back to my dorm and didn't let it go until I was alone in my room. Walking to the mirror, I lifted my skirt and dropped my panties to see what my bottom had suffered and my eyes widened at the sight. The red skin was raised in the shape of hand prints and some of the blood vessels had broken beneath the surface. It was so beautiful. With one finger, I traced the welts lining my bottom and smiled wide while spreading my buttocks, watching the little lines of fluid trickling out of my delectable garden.
It made me wonder if Dr. Alexander ever wanted to taste me, whether his lips would ever envelope the sweet petals that glistened with the heat of my desire. They twitched in response to being exposed and I ran two fingers over my soaked flower to comfort her, feeling the need to rub myself as a result of the spanking. Circling my rose bud and then dipping down low, I caressed my sweet flower gently and rocked my hips side to side to the rhythm of my fingers. One finger penetrated my petals and then two, using my thumb to stroke my engorged bud as I dove deep within my dark garden.
Awash with desire, I leaned into the mirror against the wall and rested my head back as I stroked my insides. My eyes were half mast and I was lost in the motion of my hand, the sensational pleasure rippling throughout my torso and coursing through my veins. Looking up towards the ceiling, I bayed softly while imagining the sweet professor kneeling in front of me, his eyes watching my hand move in rapid circles. It caused me to buck suddenly and I found myself spouting fluid as my orgasm came in waves. It crashed over my pelvis and spread up to my neck, inspiring me to cry out Dr. Alexander's name.
Smiling and gasping for air, I rested against the mirror until I had the strength to clean up. It was a satisfying image to see my marked up paper crumpled on the bed, the red peeking out through the white strips of paper and waiting for me to unfold it to be rewritten. I washed my hands and immediately went to work as to not waste any time, knowing I was about to skip my dinner in order to have this properly written, but I wanted to do it for him. I desperately wanted to please him. Perhaps if I did that, he'd give me more than just a delightful spanking.
Maybe he would do much more than that.
Chapter Two
In front of me was the image of a totally different woman. My hair was up in an elegant bun and my eyes were outlined with black with red lipstick lining my lips to make them shine. The dress I was wearing hadn't been worn since prom night two years ago, the silk glittering with stars and draping over my shoulders to clasp at the back of my neck. I was surprised it still fit me seeing as it was the only thing I had fit for a historical movie viewing. I wasn't sure how fancy I had to be, but this seemed appropriate for the occasion. I looked outside my window to see if Dr. Alexander was here yet, switching between the glass and my clock. My finished paper sat on the desk, fresh from the printer in bright black ink just waiting to be read.
It made me proud to improve on my writing and I was shocked at my own determination to finish it. I wasn't sure if the orgasm had catapulted me forward or if it was the bruises. Or perhaps it was the possibility of being ravished by the sweet professor. Whatever had encouraged me, I was glad for the opportunity to prove my dedication and my commitment to turning myself around in school. A car pulled up to the curb outside and Dr. Alexander climbed out, looking around casually. I grabbed my clutch and ran out the door, my heels clicking along the tile as I made my way down the stairs and out to the lobby.
Before walking through the double doors, I composed myself and pulled my shoulders back, shoving my clutch under my arm. I want to look like a lady for him, not some silly small town college girl, so I kept my chin up and pushed through the doors. I found Dr. Alexander standing next to his car wearing a black suit with a tie, his hair combed back to reveal bright green eyes absorbing every bit of my image. He leaned carelessly against the door of his vehicle until I approached, then opened the door for me to sit down. When he climbed into the passenger seat, I handed him my freshly printed paper and he smiled.
“Good girl,” he said while looking over the words.
“Thank you, Dr. Alexander,” I replied as I buckled myself in. “Is that good?”
After a moment of silence, Dr. Alexander nodded and placed the paper in the back seat.
“I suppose it will do,” he said. “And please, call me Colin.”
Elated that he wanted me to address him informally, I looked out the window to hide my gigantic grin as we headed towards the museum. I asked what movie we were to watch, but he responded with a shrug, the car falling back into silence as we pulled into the parking lot. Colin took my arm as we walked inside, passing the admission table and walking through a few exhibits on the way to the theater. As we were walking, Colin excused himself to the restroom and I patiently waited for him in the center of a strange mask exhibit. Many of them were tribal, likely findings from overseas. As I studied one of the more colorful masks, Colin appeared at my side and I turned to greet him.
That's not Colin.
Panic filled my stomach as I stared at a robed figure wearing a hockey mask, its face totally unrecognizable beneath the white plastic. I dropped my clutch and turned to run only to encounter another figure who took me hard by my arms. In a frenzy of shadows, I was taken from where I stood and hauled off to the staircase where I shrieked at the top of my lungs.
“Colin!” I cried as they carried me away.
Where had he gone?! These cloaked people were taking me down into the darkness of the museum and there were no lights save for the torches lit just ahead of us. As we went deeper into the belly of the building, I continued to shriek until one of the two shoved a cloth into my mouth to muffle my screams. I flailed with every bit of strength I had to break free of their grip, but they were like statues clinging to my arms. Placing me on a table, a great group of robed figures gathered around my frail body, arms outstretched in unison to bind my arms and legs together. I was completely immobile with the ropes digging into my skin, the rough texture burning as I tried to twist out of the knots. Sitting on the fresh bruise from the day before caused a gentle stir in my pelvis as I wondered what these people were going to do to me, my eyes darting between masks trying to find something familiar. And then I saw him.
A tall robed figure walked through the middle of the group with his arms raised up as if to praise the group, all of them bowing while he walked past. There were circular emblems patched into the breast of his robe of which I did not recognize, but it seemed to indicate his higher ranking position amidst the figures. I assumed him to be the leader. I couldn't speak for I was afraid I might be harmed in some way. What kind of cult was this? Lower lip quivering, I stared up into the mask of the man in front of me and waited for him to speak, hoping perhaps this was all some kind of sick joke on the girl who was failing college. Maybe Colin had put me up to this.
“Commence,” he said in a deep voice.
Upon receiving their command, the group ripped off their masks and stripped their robes, the entire room plunging into a wicked orgy that shocked me. A sea of bodies clung to each other in a rhythm of thrusts that resembled the movement of the ocean, every orifice available filling with fingers and wands. The robed man stood firmly next to the table with his hands behind me, likely studying my reaction to the scene. It was arousing to see so many mouths open in ecstasy, so many lips wrapped against breasts, and so much passion filling just one room. I sat up to better imbibe the scene, curiosity causing me to shiver. The figure leaned forward to
peer into my eyes and I looked back uneasily, holding his gaze only to read his thoughts.
Not once did he reach out to touch my body. He simply stared into my frightened eyes as the mask shifted, a smile likely crossing his lips as he studied me. Those eyes seemed so familiar, the swirls of teal and green exploding like stars in a far off galaxy. Hypnotized, I opened my mouth to ask a question, but he raised his finger to my lips to keep it from escaping. He gestured with his other hand to the group engaged so heatedly.
“Do you want to join us, little one?” he asked, his voice coming in mesmerizing waves across the air between us. “This ritual is one of liberation, of life, of love. You are welcome to join us in this delicious banquet as we feast upon each other, but I will have you first.”
