The submissive

The desk creaked under the force of his thrusts.

Professor Grant had one hand braced beside her head, the other gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks. Each drive of his cock was deep, deliberate, punishing—like he was teaching her a lesson she’d never forget.

Sophia’s cheek pressed against scattered papers—graded essays, a leather-bound notebook—her moans muffled against the wood. Her fingers clawed for something to hold onto, finally curling around the edge of the desk.

He slowed suddenly, buried to the hilt, grinding against her in slow circles that made her clit throb.

“Quiet,” he warned, voice rough. “Anyone could walk past that door.”

The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through her. The hallway outside was never truly empty—janitors, late students, other faculty.

He pulled out almost all the way, then slammed back in, making her gasp loudly despite the warning.

A low chuckle rumbled behind her.

“Can’t follow instructions, can you?”

His hand left her hip. She heard the whisper of fabric—his tie being pulled free from his collar.

Before she could process it, the silk looped around her mouth, pulled tight between her teeth as a makeshift gag. He knotted it firmly at the back of her head.

“There. Now you’ll be quiet while I finish what you started.”

He resumed fucking her—harder now, faster, the gag turning her cries into desperate, muffled whimpers. Drool gathered at the corners of her mouth, soaking the expensive silk.

His free hand slid under her blouse, yanking her bra down roughly to palm her breast. Fingers pinched her nipple—sharp, twisting—until she arched and sobbed around the tie.

“You like that, pet?” he growled against her ear. “Like being used on my desk like a needy little slut?”

She nodded frantically, pushing back to meet every thrust.

He straightened, both hands gripping her hips now, pounding into her with raw, unrestrained force. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the office, obscene and perfect.

One hand snaked around to find her clit—rubbing tight, merciless circles.

“Come,” he ordered. “Come all over your professor’s cock before I fill you up.”

The command shattered her.

Her orgasm hit hard—body locking, pussy clenching rhythmically around him as waves of pleasure tore through her. She screamed into the gag, tears of overwhelm streaking her cheeks.

He groaned her name—low, filthy—and thrust deep one last time. She felt him pulse inside her, hot and thick, flooding her as he came with long, shuddering strokes.

They stayed like that for a long moment—him draped over her back, both breathing ragged.

Slowly, he pulled out. Warm come trickled down her thighs immediately.

He removed the tie from her mouth, using it to gently wipe her lips before tucking it—ruined—into his pocket like a trophy.

Then he turned her around, lifting her to sit on the desk, legs still shaky.

His thumb brushed a tear from her cheek.

“Good girl,” he murmured, voice softer now. “You took that beautifully.”

Sophia looked up at him, chest heaving, lips swollen.

He leaned in, kissing her slow and deep—possessive, but almost tender.

When he pulled back, his eyes were dark again.

“This isn’t over,” he said. “Next week, you’ll stay after class again. And you’ll address me properly from now on.”

She swallowed, nodding.

“Yes… Sir.”

A slow, satisfied smile curved his mouth.

He helped her down from the desk, steadying her as she fixed her skirt. No panties—he’d slipped those into his drawer when she wasn’t looking.

“Go home,” he said, buttoning his shirt. “Don’t clean up. I want you feeling me between your legs all weekend.”

Sophia’s knees nearly buckled at the command.

She walked to the door on unsteady legs, glancing back once.

He was already seated at his desk again, calm and composed—like he hadn’t just fucked her senseless minutes ago.

But his eyes followed her, hungry.

She smiled shyly.

“See you Monday, Professor.”

His voice was a low promise.

“I’ll be waiting, pet.”