Yours,
Professor
He had signed professor. She would have giggled at that if the sound of the cane descending through the air and welting the girl’s bare bottom didn’t haunt her at the moment. Putting that thought aside, she peeled back the tissue paper to reveal the items inside.
Unpacking one thing at a time, she laid everything out on the bed and took inventory:
One blindfold, leather.
One set of handcuffs, likely the ones she’d worn last night. So far so good.
A pink vibrator. She blushed. Would he use that on her?
A belt. A plain, worn, soft brown leather belt. She knew right away that it was his belt coiled up and sent to her and she had no misgivings about how he planned to use it. She moved on to the next item before panic could set in.
Nipple clamps. She’d seen them before but had never felt them.
She picked up the next thing, a row of silicone balls in various sizes attached to a ring. She blushed again. Anal beads. She’d never used anything like that before. In fact, she was a virgin in that area.
The next one was a small, narrow object shaped like a phallus. A butt plug. She hated that description, why call something so intimate so juvenile a name? She put it down, her face bright red.
The last item was a business card for a place called Studio Urban Wax. She turned it over and read the back, his first command:
I want you waxed bare front to back.
Fucker! That was going to hurt. Naia dumped everything back into the box and went to have a shower.
* * *
The next afternoon Naia found herself walking the few blocks to Studio Urban Wax. She had taken two Advil half an hour ago but wasn’t sure that was enough to numb what she knew would be more than a little painful. She’d only ever had very modest bikini waxes done and she usually did those herself. It had taken quite some courage to book a Brazilian wax, but she consoled herself with the fact that people did it all the time. She wasn’t any different. So she’d be spread naked, having her most delicate area pulled free of all hair. So what?
Ouch. She shivered. Better to stop thinking about it.
She found the studio easily and, gathering her courage, pushed the door open. It was a small but posh space with a red leather couch and two chairs between which was a coffee table stacked high with magazines.
“Can I help you?” asked the cheery girl at the desk.
“I have an appointment,” Naia began. Once she’d checked in, it was only a matter of moments before her name was called by a pretty young blonde. She put her magazine down and followed Bri, who would be her wax technician, into a private room. Bri seemed to be all of eighteen years old and looked like she spent her days either on a tanning bed or in a chair at a salon getting her hair bleached. Great.
“Just take everything off from below the waist and lie down. I’ll be back in a minute,” Bri instructed when they were in one of the private rooms.
A very nervous Naia stripped her jeans, panties, socks, and shoes off and lay on the bed, draping the tiny cloth over her privates. Bri was back in a moment and started to ramble about this or that. Naia didn’t pay attention, she was too focused on the hot wax that would soon be dripping onto her very tender bits.
Bri began, telling Naia how to position her legs. Swallowing her pride and comforting herself with the fact that Bri probably did this ten times a day, she followed the girl’s instructions. It hurt, but it wasn’t awful. Not at first anyway. At least she was quick and her mindless chatter did make Naia feel anonymous.
He wanted her bare. In the back too. She repeated that to herself and turned. Her face burned red as the girl pulled her cheeks apart and began. Naia clenched her teeth but couldn’t help yelping just a little as the strips were poured, then tugged off. It was over within twenty minutes and when she stood to get dressed, she took a moment to look in the mirror on the wall at her now bare pussy. She had to admit, it looked pretty and kind of vulnerable. She turned her back and bent forward to see between her cheeks, but quickly straightened, still embarrassed. She’d have a closer look back at the hotel. She walked to the reception desk to pay, all the while feeling the sensation of a clean, waxed bottom. It felt good.
“Mr. Roark has taken care of your bill, Ms. White,” the girl said when Naia handed her credit card over.
“He has, has he?” He knew she wouldn’t run out. Probably didn’t doubt it for a minute, the smug bastard.
“Yes, ma’am,” the girl at the desk smiled.
“Does he do that often, pay for women to have this done?” The words were out before she thought about it. Did she really want to know?
The girl held Naia’s gaze. “I’m sorry, ma’am, that information is confidential.”
Naia put her card back into her wallet and walked out onto the street, a little peeved that he’d paid for her to do this, but more so because she wondered how many others he’d sent here before her. She would make sure she found out on Friday night, for now, she was curious about other things, including some of the items in that box.
Once back at the hotel, she bolted her door and pulled the drapes closed before stripping. She then stood in front of the full-length mirror and looked at herself, at her bare pussy. The sight of it heated her through and she lifted her leg, resting her foot on the arm of a nearby chair. It was all gone, every hair. It still felt sensitive to touch, but she did anyway, making the soft skin tingle. Turning her back to the mirror, she bent forward and looked over her shoulder. Reaching back, she felt the tender space between vagina and anus and even lay a tentative finger over the latter. She’d looked at herself before, of course. It always turned her on when she did. But seeing herself bare like this took it to a whole other level.
Straightening, she walked to the box of goodies Liam had sent. Taking out the pink vibrator, she returned to the mirror, set the chair in front of it and turned the vibrator on. Spreading her legs wide over the arms of the chair, she touched the tip of the buzzing toy to her clit and closed her eyes at the sensation. She held it there for a few moments more before returning her gaze to the mirror to watch as she coated it in her juices and slowly entered her slick sex. Alternately rubbing her clit and fucking herself with the machine, Naia pinched her nipples with her free hand and inhaled deeply, seeing again the image of the girl at the club bent over the bench having her bare bottom caned, and imagining herself in just such a position with Liam standing shirtless behind her, cane in hand, brought her quickly to orgasm, causing Naia to moan and shudder with the release.
Chapter Six
It was Friday night. Liam checked his watch: half past eight. Thirty minutes to go. He’d spent his week buried in work, he wanted to be free for the weekend, knowing she would come, knowing she would give herself to him. She had been to the wax studio already, he knew that by the charge on his credit card. He couldn’t wait to have a look at her bare pussy. Imagining her face when she opened his box of goodies, he wondered which of the items she had used alone. He’d ask her for a detailed description, perhaps a demonstration even. He got hard at the thought of it, at the thought of all the things he would do to her.
The voice that had told him to leave Naia alone and forget about her had quieted somewhat, but hadn’t gone away entirely. He just couldn’t do it, couldn’t have her so close, so willing and not try. His feelings for her ran deep, they had from the first moment he had set eyes on her in the front row of his classroom. She had known it too, he was sure of that. She was a flirt then and she liked the idea of Professor Roark wrapped around her little finger.
He had been good though, he had resisted her then, even though she was eighteen and legal. He had done it because he valued his reputation and loved teaching. That thought still burned a little. Even though he’d done the right thing, his colleagues and superiors had condemned him. Naia was young and he believed she didn’t know just how big a problem she’d be causing with her lie. But when those
whom he had considered trusted friends shunned him, and, without a second thought, fired him, that had almost destroyed him.
But what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. That had been his mantra for a long time and it was true. If he looked at his life, he wasn’t an unhappy man. He had money; the club was very successful. He had women, several cars, and two homes, one in Denver and one in south Florida. He didn’t get there very often though and had decided on taking Naia there for the weekend. He had never taken another woman there before; it was his private sanctuary. This weekend would be for her. He needed for her to see exactly what she’d be getting into with him if she chose to pursue this.
The telephone rang then. It was twenty minutes past nine. He turned his attention to the video monitors as he answered.
“Roark,” he said.
“Mr. Roark, she just walked in. Shall I bring her up to your office?”
He found her instantly, wearing that damned leather corset. It made his lip curve into a wicked smile. “No, let her be but keep an eye on her. I’ll be down to collect her myself.”
She was late and he could see on her face that she was geared up. Again.
* * *
Naia had worn the corset on purpose, albeit with a pair of jeans. Her brain had worked the entire week over the episode at the wax studio and she was more than a little pissed off. Just how often did he do this sort of thing and with how many women? She had followed his first instruction only to learn that in all likelihood, she wasn’t the first one he’d sent to the studio and now she was mad. Who did he think he was? Christ, she felt like she had just had this same discussion with him last week. Would he always manage to get her so worked up?
She had wanted to wear the full outfit he had expressly told her not to wear again, but wasn’t sure she really wanted to make him that angry, so she’d worn half, just enough to let him know she was mad. Maybe it was childish but she couldn’t help it. It was her way of asserting a little bit of her own power. She had never had a relationship like the one he wanted and wasn’t even sure she could actually lay her will aside for him, for anyone for that matter. Maybe this weekend would be a greater learning experience for her than she thought.
“Naia.”
She gasped, turning, wondering how he had gotten so close to her without her noticing.
“Professor,” she said, managing to keep her voice level.
“Let’s have a drink,” he said. Taking her small weekend bag, he led her toward the same booth they had occupied the first time she had come here. “Two vodka tonics,” he ordered once they were seated.
“I can order my own drink,” she said.
He grinned but didn’t acknowledge her comment otherwise. Once the drinks came, he began. “You received my gift?”
“Yes,” she said, touching her tote bag. She had stuffed everything inside knowing he’d want her to bring the items. “They seem to know you at the studio,” she tried, working her lips into a not so defensive smile but failing that, took a long sip of her drink.
“They do.”
The nerve! “Just how many women have you sent there anyway?”
“Ah. That’s what this is about. The clothing, the attitude.”
She tried hard not to pout but crossed her arms over her chest.
“Naia, you’re not the first woman I’ve been with. You couldn’t really believe you were?”
“No, of course not. But do you send them all to the same place to have waxed to your specifications?”
“To my specifications?”
She nodded.
“The owner is an old friend and I sent you there because I imagined you wouldn’t know where to go since you don’t live here. That’s all. And even though it’s none of your business, you are the first woman I’ve sent there.” He was annoyed, she could hear that, but he wasn’t exactly angry. That was good.
She opened her eyes wide and cupped her drink. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Oh.”
“Oh. That’s all you’ve got? Why don’t you explain the corset to me. Was I not clear that you were not to wear it again?”
Her heart picked up speed. “I was mad.”
“You have a bad record of reacting when you’re mad. Haven’t you learned your lesson yet?”
He was right but she couldn’t admit it. “I suppose not.”
“Well then, hopefully this will help. Stand up and take it off.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Stand up and take the corset off.”
“We’re in public! What do you want me to do, stand up and strip right here, right now?”
He considered, his expression at least a little amused. “Yes.” Now it was he who folded his arms across his chest. “Or face the alternative.”
“What’s the alternative?”
“Punishment.”
“What sort of punishment?”
Liam grinned. Naia’s face grew pale, but stripping in the middle of a restaurant just wasn’t an option.
“One of my choosing.”
“Obviously.”
“Decision, Naia.”
“I’m not stripping, Liam.”
“Done deal. Now, let’s go over some details.”
“Shoot.”
“First rule, address me as sir or professor and always be respectful or you will be punished.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Second rule, when we’re playing, you will only speak when spoken to.”
“Just when we’re playing?”
“I can’t imagine you’d be able to do that for any longer, so yes.”
“You’re funny.” Her tone was flat.
“You understand the rule?”
“It doesn’t take a brain surgeon.”
He was not amused.
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
“Third, you will take your pleasure when I give it. You must always wait for permission to come.”
She blushed, but nodded. “Shh! People will hear,” she whispered.
He lifted a brow.
“Fine. Yes, sir. I will ask permission before I… do that.”
“Before you do what?” he pushed.
“Before I come!” Her whisper was angry. “Sir!”
“Do you remember your safe word?”
“Yes, sir.” Now her voice was small.
“I want to add a second one. You should have one for stop and one that signals me that it’s getting to be too much.”
“OK, violin to stop and drums for almost too much.”
“No, too close. Violin to stop, roses for too much. If they’re both musical instruments, you or I will forget what’s what.”
“Good point.”
“I’ll have you back here on Sunday night, but you won’t be allowed a telephone or any contact with anyone but me and anyone of my choosing, you understand?”
She nodded.
He waited.
“Yes, sir.”
“Any limits you have, things you won’t do?”
“Oh, I don’t know… I suppose I don’t want to be caned.” The memory was still too fresh in her mind.
“That’s fine. I hadn’t planned on that. Anything else?”
That was a relief. “I really don’t know, professor.”
“What about sexually? I plan to take you anally and the others we’ve already done.”
She blushed and looked around. He had not just said that out loud, had he?
He smiled. “Naia, you look absolutely innocent. Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed?” She felt herself grow redder. “Or is it that you’ve never had anal sex?”
“Can we stop talking about this, please?” She couldn’t meet his eyes.
“But I like talking about it,” he teased, his smile huge. He was smug, so very pleased with himself.
She narrowed her eyes at him. He was tormenting her, his look told it all. “Plea
se, keep your voice down.”
He laughed. “You surprise me, Naia. Finish your drink and we’ll go.”
She gulped down the last sip, anxious to get out of the club now. “Where are we going? You’re not taking me to some dungeon, are you?” She was joking but realized as she said it that it may not be that far off.
“No, no dungeons for you, not on this trip at least. Where we’re going is a surprise,” he said, standing. He held out a hand to help her. He stopped to speak with Oliver for a moment before they stepped out of the club and into his waiting car.
* * *
They drove in silence until they reached the small, private airfield that housed the jet he’d booked.
“We’re flying?” she asked as he ushered her out of the car and walked her toward the waiting plane. Two men greeted them and Liam spoke briefly with the one as the other led Naia inside, settling her in a seat. A few moments later, Liam was inside the cabin where she sat waiting.
“Thank you, Roger,” Liam said to the co-pilot. “We’re ready to go whenever you are.”
“We’ll take off right away, Mr. Roark. “
The cabin of the luxury jet contained several plush leather seats, a stocked bar, a television, and a bathroom. Liam sat down next to Naia.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he reached over and tightened her seatbelt.
“To my home in Florida.”
“Florida?”
“Yes, Miami. I hope that’s all right.”
“It’s fine, more than fine. I think.”
The plane began its race down the runway and within moments, they were in the air. When the captain spoke to let them know they could move about the cabin, Liam unbuckled first his, then Naia’s seatbelt.
“Vodka tonic?” he asked as he moved to the bar.
“Yes, please,” she answered. “Is this your jet?”
Taming Naia Page 5