A Slut For My Professor (3)
“Good girl” he teases.
For the first time, a rush of fear sweeps through me and I stiffen. The ache between my legs intensifies and I whimper.
“We'll do this again. I'll fuck you with my fingers, and I want you to lick off everything. Do you understand?”
Something about the way he dominates me only makes the ache worse.
“Y-yes” I nod, slighting parting my legs, and exposing my glistening, wet pussy lips to him.
He smirks. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should feel ashamed but I’m not. Instead, I throb with need.
Without another word, he slides two fingers into my soaked cunt, twisting expertly and I can’t help the loud gasp that escapes my lips.
“Oh…fuckkk” I moan.
“You're such a slut.” He smiles.
I nod, “I am.”
“Now, it's time to taste your juices. Ready?”
I nod again as he drags his fingers back up to my lips.
This time, I don’t hesitate. I grab his wrist and suck, tongue sliding between his fingers. I see the corner of his mouth twitch with approval as I coat them with my saliva.
I hear him chuckle low in his throat, satisfied.
Then, without warning, he yanks his hand away and dives back between my legs with skilled fingers. I glance around and I noticed we’re still alone. There are no cars, no people. Nothing but open road and my desire to feel his cock in me.
Screw it.
I slip the sleeves of my dress off and let the fabric fall down my chest, freeing my breasts. My hands move to them and I squeeze and stroke my nipples. Soon, I'm lost in the heat of the moment. I moan helplessly as he leans close to my clit and begins to flick it…faster. His expert strokes feel like he’s playing an instrument only he knows how to master.
Out of all my craziest fantasies, I had no damn idea that I'd ever end up being fingered by my professor on a lonely street. His fingers still flick in and out of my pussy. Soon, I'm grinding hard against them.
And then it hits me.
My entire body tenses and explodes in the most intense orgasm I’ve ever felt. I cry out and arch my back. My thighs clench and I begin to see stars. It’s overwhelming, so much that I nearly black out.
When I finally come back to myself, the car rolls to a slow stop in front of a large house. It's not quite a mansion, but it is easily ten times the size of my little apartment. The automatic gates close behind us with a quiet hum.
I blink, still catching my breath, and look around. We’re surrounded by acres of farmland and there's not a soul in sight.
He turns off the engine and looks over at me. “Stay still. Don’t even think about fixing your dress.”
I glance down to see that my breasts are still exposed, my chest rising and falling rapidly. He gets out of the car, the bulge in his pants impossibly obvious now.
He walks around and opens the door on my side. “Come on out, Ms. Kristen. No one’s going to see you out here,” he says, holding out his hand.
I take it and step out, still breathless. As soon as I’m on my feet, his lips crash into mine without any warning. There's no gentleness.
Rather, he devours me.
Our mouths clash, and our tongues tangle in a wild, desperate kiss. He wraps his arms around me and spins me, pressing me flat against the hood of the car. The evening breeze grazes my bare skin, making my nipples tighten. I should feel exposed, vulnerable even but I don’t. Not with him.
Somehow, despite how out of control everything is, I feel… safe. Professor Cassian’s touch is confident, like he knows exactly how to make my body respond.
His hand moves from the small of my back to the curve of my neck. He pulls me to him, his breath brushing over my lips. I’m pinned against the hood of a car, half-naked, completely under his control and yet I’ve never felt more relaxed. Or more wanted.
He finally pulls back, leaving me breathless. I pant, staring at his tan skin, the slight stubble along his jaw, and the way his dark hair falls effortlessly into place. He runs a hand through it before speaking.
“First rule, Kristen,” he says firmly. “When you’re in my house… you wear nothing unless I tell you otherwise.”
A chill of fear passes through me and my breath catches.
“You mean… even outside?” I ask, “Like… in the garden?”
He gives me a look that makes my stomach twist in the best way.
“Yes. The garden, fountain, anywhere within the walls of this premises. Is that a problem?”
“No, professor…” I say.
He frowns. “Cassian,” he corrects with a low and commanding tone. “Don’t make me repeat this instruction again. You must never address me as professor outside the lecture hall. Not here.”
I swallow. “Yes, Cassian.”
“Good. Now undress.”
“Yes, sir,” I whisper.
I peel off what’s left of my clothes. My heart races as I stand there, completely bare under the open sky.
Professor Cassian doesn’t rush. He runs his fingers from my forehead, down my nose, tracing a line to my throat. When he reaches my chest, he grabs my left boob and rolls my nipple between his fingers, sending jolts of sensation through me.
I gasp. “Oh… God.”
He doesn’t stop. His hand trails lower, past my navel, down to my center. Without warning, he slides a finger deep inside me. I tremble as he growls against my ear.
“This,” he says, moving his finger slowly inside me, “belongs to me. No one else. Understand?”
He pulls his finger out and brings it to his mouth, licking it clean. I look down, embarrassed by how turned on I am. But he grips my chin and forces me to meet his eyes.
“Don’t look away,” he says, “There’s no room for shame here. You give yourself to me without hesitation. Do you understand that, Kristen?”
“Yes, sir…” I answer, though a part of me still isn’t sure I can.
“We’re not doing this here,” he says as he takes my hand. “Not tonight. Let’s go inside. To the dungeon.
Before I can fully grasp what he’s said, he’s already leading me into the house, as his hand cups my ass.
We walk into a wide hall filled with elegant wooden furniture. The far wall is made entirely of stone, giving the room a vintage, almost medieval feel. A staircase winds down to the right, and I shiver, guessing it must lead to the dungeon he mentioned.
“We won't go there yet,” Cassian murmurs, tapping my ass lightly.
Then he lifts me into his arms as if I weigh nothing. I rest my head against his chest, feeling safe even though I know what’s coming is anything but gentle. He turns down a hallway, then into a dimly lit room with a single bed at its center. He places me on the bed and starts undressing.
His shirt comes off first, revealing a chiseled chest that looks like it belongs in a sculpture. I can’t help but stare as he strips away the rest, joining me under the sheets.
“You’ve had sex before, right?” he asks, lying beside me.
I stiffen immediately.
A Slut For My Professor (12)"Want me to go lower, Ms. Thorne?" Cassian's voice is silk and sin, his fingers still tapping my inner thigh like a metronome of torment.I try to respond, but all that escapes is a muffled hum behind the gag. My body screams yes, and the smirk on his face tells me he already knows.He doesn’t wait for words. His hand slides between my thighs, fingers parting me with deliberate ease. He watches me like he’s studying art. My pussy throbs. It's wet, aching, and open. I breath hard, as I instinctively try to grind into his touch.But he pulls away.Slap!The sound echoes off the walls, and fire bursts through my core."God!" I scream into the gag, the sting radiating through me. My clit is pulsing, the pain morphing into a rush of humiliating pleasure."You still don’t get it, do you, kitten?" He laughs, dragging his palm slowly over my slick folds, making me shiver."You get what I give. Not more, not less. Understand?" His voice is pure arrogance, and every
A Slut For My Professor (11)The lights are dim, almost too dim to see clearly at first. My heels click softly against the marble floor as I step deeper inside, hand still clasped in his. Slowly, as my eyes adjust, the room comes into terrifying, tantalizing focus.I feel like I’ve stepped into some underground lair of sin and pain. Ropes dangle from the ceiling, suspending bodies mid-air. To my right, a girl is strapped to an X-shaped frame, moaning as another woman clamps clothespins to the lips of her pussy. Her screams echo in the air, but no one even flinches. Another girl swings slightly above the floor while a man strokes her body like she's his personal canvas.The scent in the air is thick—sex, sweat, and worn leather.I flinch slightly when I feel Daddy's palm slide down the curve of my ass. His fingers stretch across my cheeks like he owns every inch. I know he does. I don’t dare move.To my left, a man is on all fours, being relentlessly flogged by a tall woman in heels an
A Slut For My Professor (10)"Your temptations, Kristen, are sometimes too much for me to bear. But not now," he murmurs, eyes glittering as he gestures for me to kneel.I do, lips parted, heart thudding, but then he pulls my panties back up. The silk glides over my wet pussy, and I bite back a groan."You're putting them back on me?" I pout, grinding against his fingers shamelessly, hoping he’ll take the bait.His palm slaps down on my ass. It's sharp and sudden."That's for trying to fuck my fingers, you needy little whore," he growls, amused. The sting spreads through me, and I gasp.“God, Daddy…”He only smirks and grabs my hand, leading me out of the room. His touch is firm, possessive and dominant.The last streaks of sunlight spill across his face as we enter the bedroom, casting him in gold. He looks like temptation itself. Dangerous and beautiful.“I bought you something for tonight, kitten,” he says, voice softer now but no less commanding.He pulls out a deep red dress and
A Slut For My Professor (9)I walk into my apartment, bag in hand, practically bouncing with excitement. I toss my coat to the floor and crack open the bottle of whiskey I got from a friend. My body drops onto the couch with a satisfied sigh, lazy and exposed. I don't have any bra or panties on.. I take a slow sip, letting the burn roll down my throat as memories from last night crash over me like waves. I’m still slick from them. From him.Cassian.I should feel used. I should feel ashamed. But I don’t.I feel wanted. Safe. Devoured.I close my eyes and let myself sink into the delicious warmth of it all. I'm Naked. On my couch. With a bag of God-knows-what still sitting in the corner, taunting me like a wrapped Christmas gift. I chuckle to myself, picturing what I must’ve looked like to him—chained up, exposed, feathered, dripping, helpless and desperate. His little whore.And yet… even when he fucked me like an animal, when he used those filthy names and made me beg, he never hurt
A Slut For My Professor (8)“The sauce needs a little time,” he says, leading me to the sofa. He takes off both our aprons and sits down, pulling me into his lap. I settle onto him, facing him comfortably.“I want to know you, Kristen,” he murmurs, his hands trailing slowly up and down my back.“Well, you already know me. My mom was a chef, I study at—”He shakes his head gently. “Not your mom. Not your school or your courses. I already know all that. I want to know you. Your dreams, your fears, the things that make you burn and the things that keep you awake at night. Walk me through your mind. Tell me what you like, what you don’t, and what you truly love.”I pause, trying to make sense of the sudden intensity. “Can I ask you something first?”“Of course.”“Why do you want to know all that?”“Because in a relationship like this, especially between a dom and a sub, communication matters. I need to know how far I can go with you. What pushes you, what excites you, and where your line
A Slut For My Professor (7)When I wake, everything feels... off.The sheets are soft beneath me, and the pillow cradles my head just right, but my body is heavy, like I’ve sunk into some dream and haven’t fully come out of it. The soft click of a keyboard fills the room in steady rhythm, drawing my attention to the man seated at the foot of the bed.Professor Cassian.He’s wearing a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His dark eyes are focused on his laptop like the fate of the world depends on whatever he's typing.“Good morning, daddy,” I mumble sleepily.He glances up without surprise, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. “Good afternoon, kitten. It’s almost two o’clock.”2pm? I slept that long? Damn.I stretch, or at least try to, but my hands won’t move.What the...?I blink rapidly, and that’s when I realize I’m not just under the sheets, but I’m bound. My wrists are secured above my head with silver cuffs that glint in the soft light, a