Dominant Professor: When you crave the punishment, you break the rules.

by Mia Luxe

  "That was intense for you, I know."

  My whole body is shaking and trembling from my orgasm. The cheeks of my ass, though soothed, are still burning up and I move so that they won't touch against the material of his pants.

  Though my body is overwhelmed by what just happened, I know what I want to do.

  I want to finally see his massive cock that I have felt straining against me, wanting me.

  I want to satisfy him.

  “Sir, I need to satisfy you,” I say, and bite my lip. “Please.”

  I can’t believe I’m begging him to suck his cock, for him to fuck me hard.

  “That was a harsh punishment, Willow. Are you sure you don’t want more time to recover?”

  I know he wants me, and bad, and I look up in his eyes, challenging.

  "I can take the pain. What I can't take is knowing you're so fucking hard and I didn't do anything about it. You can do anything you want to me, sir, anything."

  He kisses me, and suddenly the concern in his eyes is overshadowed my dark need. His green eyes harden.

  "On your knees," he commands, and I extract myself from his lap, getting on my knees in front of him. There is a small, thick rug in front of his chair and my knees sink into it.

  I am on my knees in front of him, looking up. He sits there like a king, in complete control. His cock snakes down his left leg, visible through his pants.

  “Unzip my pants.”

  He leans back, enjoying the view as I reach forward and unzip his pants. My hand is trembling with anticipation. I can see his cock pressing against his briefs, the thick, throbbing outline making my mouth fill with saliva.

  “Pull down my briefs and take my cock out,” he commands, and I can't wait a moment longer. I pull them down and reach forward, my hand not able to reach around his shaft as I pull his cock out. His huge cock powers out, standing straight up and throbbing obscenely. "Oh my God," I say, unable to control my reaction to the enormous dick that stands up in front of me. From my position on my knees I look up at his huge member, his big balls so full of cum. I want to lick it, to touch it, but I force myself to stay still until his next order.

  "Wrap your hands around my shaft. Do what feels natural."

  I wrap my hand around the thick base of his cock, needing both hands to circle his huge manhood and start sliding my hand up and down slowly. I'm rewarded by a string of pre-cum that gathers on the head and I want to take it in my mouth, but as I lean forward he gently puts his hand on my chin.

  "Not yet, my pet. You'll have to earn that."

  I groan with frustration.

  I have to earn the right to suck his cock? This is so humiliating.

  I slide my hand up and down his shaft, my left hand holding his balls. I can barely fit them in my hand and he grunts as I squeeze them gently.

  Ooh, he likes that.

  I'm fixated on his huge dick as I start to pump it up and down with my hand. I want him to cum more than anything.

  "Please master, I want to make you cum so bad," I moan, and he growls in response. I look up into his eyes and the hunger in them sends a shiver through my body. I can still feel the redness of my ass from the spanking he gave me and I increase the tempo. I know he told me I am not allowed to suck his cock, but I spit on the head of it to lubricate it and keep going.

  I know he is getting close as he growls.

  "You're going to make me cum, my good little slut," he says, his voice deep and powerful.

  I’m going to make professor Connor Bold cum. Holy fuck.

  He leans forward and I angle his huge dick towards me, and I squeeze and pull his balls. He groans and his cock spurts, shooting a thick stream of cum onto my lips and neck, down my tits. He keeps cumming and cumming and I milk every drop from him. I’m covered in his sticky seed.

  I move quickly backward as the cum starts to drip down my body so that it won't get on the rug. It drips down me onto the hardwood, and he looks at me with a wolf smile.

  I'm covered in his cum.

  I'm covered in his seed, his mark, and in this moment, I am his.

  "You're my perfect little pet, Willow."

  His cum is warm on my tits, my stomach, dripping down my thighs.

  He stands up and stuffs his still semi-hard dick back into his pants, zipping them up with a grunt. He puts his hand on the small of my back and I walk with him.

  I hear his cum plinking down on the hardwood as he escorts me to a massive bathroom. Just ten minutes after the rough spanking, the pain is already subsiding. He turns the water of the shower on warm, letting it heat up.

  “Keep the water on warm, not hot. Take your time, I’ll bring you your clothes.”

  He leaves me in the massive bathroom, all marble and glass. The water slides down my body as I step into the shower. It stings a little when the warm water touches on my buttocks, and I turn to look at them. They have red splotches, but nothing major. It's incredible how much it can hurt in the moment, the way the pain and pleasure mix exquisitely. Then, not ten minutes later it feels oh so much better.

  I clean my face, knowing my makeup has smeared when my eyes watered during the disciplinary spanking.

  I hope he likes me just as much without make-up.

  I bite my lip, already not sure if I want another. It hurt, yes, but the pain and humiliation turned me on so fucking bad. I don't want to break any of his rules, though. I want to prove I'm a worthy submissive. I'll have to find another way to entice him to punish me... I know how to get what I want, even if I'll have to act like an entitled brat to get it.

  The door opens, and Connor folds my dress neatly on the black marble countertop. He places my lacy thong and bra beside it. He even brings my purse from the entrance hall.

  I was so fucking wet there’s no way I can wear that thong again.

  “Thank you,” I say over the water, and he grins, enjoying the view as his eyes roam up and down my nakedness.

  “No problem. Come meet me in the dining room when you’re done. It’s just down the hallway.”

  I finish in the shower and towel off, putting on my bra and sliding my sweater dress on. It’s so nice and warm in his house. I slip my thong in my purse.

  I step gingerly out of the bathroom and to the dining room, where Connor is pouring tea.

  I'm already calling him Connor in my head when he's not in "dominant mode". Seeing him with tea makes me giggle, and he looks up at me with a smile.

  “What’s so funny?”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Nothing, I just took you for a coffee man.”

  He places a mug of steaming tea down in front of me, and I sit down on the thankfully padded dining room chair.

  "Oh, I drink way too much coffee. Coffee’s great in the morning, tea at night."

  I breathe in the tea and take a sip. It’s green tea, like you’d get at a sushi restaurant.

  “Delicious,” I say. It’s plain but soothing.

  He sits down in front of me. His face looks more serious.

  "Willow, I need you to promise me something."

  "More rules?" I ask in a light-hearted tone, wanting him to lose the edge. After the intensity of the punishment and pleasure, I need to be relaxed.

  "In a way. Promise me that you'll use the safe-word if things get too intense. I know this is all new to you, but it's new to me too."

  I didn’t want to think about him dominating other women. The way he took control so easily, I assumed he’d done it before.

  “You’ve never dominated anyone before?”

  He shakes his head, his green eyes looking into mine seriously. He takes a sip of his tea before setting the cup down.

  "No. Never. There's something in you that... I don't understand it, but there's something about you that brings it out in me.”

  "I know what you mean," I say to him, thinking to the way that he makes me feel. All I felt for the guys in my life previously, the ones that were not worth taking my virginity, was a feeling of slight contempt.


  With Connor, I feel respectful. I want to please him.

  “Good. I just want to make sure you’re OK, that’s all. So if anything gets too intense, just tell me.”

  “I will, Connor. Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure,” he says, taking another sip.

  “Why did you become a professor?”

  His eyes narrow slightly.

  Not the right thing to ask? I’ve Googled him before, and he was an undercover cop before teaching.

  “Do you know what I did before being a professor?”

  I nod. “To be honest, I've Googled you and your past. It's why I love your course so much. You actually understand criminals.”

  The articles that come up when you search his name are harrowing. The two bullets he took in the line of duty. The women and girls whose lives he saved from a lifetime of sexual slavery and abuse when he busted the Maturi family's international human smuggling ring. The 15 million dollars that went missing, never to be found.

  "Sometimes I understand criminals all too well. I became a professor because I couldn't work undercover anymore. My face is too recognizable, and after two years of being someone else... I needed a break from police work. Now I spend my time learning the inner workings of criminals. I use my knowledge to consult, sometimes with the local police, sometimes with the FBI. I study these criminals, these murderers, trying to discover their motives... God, how do you find the motives of a beast?"

  He has a faraway look in his eyes, and I can tell he's remembering the past. There's a clouded darkness about him. A storm just under the surface. I take a sip of my tea, the warmth a small comfort.

  “You just have to draw from experience, I guess,” I say, unsure if he was asking the question rhetorically.

  My sisters would never be in this position. They like the safe, easy life. The honest life, even though their lives were built on corrupt foundations of my father’s dirty money. I will never be like them. Professor Connor Bold is the antithesis of the safe life.

  He's the one who keeps the people behind the white picket fences safe.

  He smiles grimly, setting down his cup and the light returns to his eyes.

  "I see so much potential in you, Willow."

  "Thank you, professor, um," I say hesitantly, and he smiles warmly.

  "Just Connor. Don't worry about calling me anything else unless we're in the middle of something," he says with a wink. I giggle.

  I have to ask. I'm scared of the answer, but I need to know, and now.

  "Have you ever done this with a student before? Aren't you scared of someone finding out?"

  "No, and no. I've never wanted a student before, and as to getting found out, well... I’ve broken rules before. I'm not too worried about the university. If they find out, they find out. I’ve got enough experience that I can always get another job.

  You’ve broken rules before? What does that mean?

  The safe, perfect lives of my sisters is a future I’ve been fighting against my whole life. Connor feels… dangerous. It excites me, but it also makes me nervous.

  "You spent two whole years undercover?"

  “Yes. Two years to take down the Maturi crime family.” He looks at me and his brows furrow. “You know, Willow, I haven’t talked to anyone else about this. I don’t know how to explain it, but I trust you.”

  “I trust you too, Connor.”

  He laughs. “You’d make a great police interviewer. If you can get me to open up this easily, you’ll have hardened criminals spilling you their life stories in no time.”

  I smile.

  “Stop that. You don’t mean it.”

  Despite my logical brain sending up warning flags, my body trusts him, my gut trusts him, and my heart trusts him. I feel safe around him.

  He finishes his tea, and I leave mine half-full.

  I'm already imagining the next time I'll see him.

  I chose my next words carefully, knowing exactly how they are going to sound. I shudder, remembering the way he brought me to orgasm so easily, as if he knew every inch of my body instinctively.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  The words come out sounding submissive. Deferential.

  He smiles, his gorgeous face looking happy. I've always seen him so serious in front of the class.

  “You’re insatiable, aren’t you?”

  I bite my lip, looking up at him. “You do it to me.”

  He stands up, walking next to my chair and strokes my hair. I kept it dry in the shower, not wanting to catch a chill.

  "Our next class is on Tuesday. I want you to spend tomorrow getting caught up. I know you aren't doing well in your other courses. Focus on them. Get back to a place where you don't have to be stressed about school. I know it can feel like some of your courses are a bunch of bull, but a degree is useful for moving up in the ranks of law enforcement.”

  "I never told you I wanted to go into law enforcement," I say, cocking my head.

  “You’re a natural. It shows in your essays. You could go far. You have so much raw talent, Willow, and I can’t you waste it.”

  "Thank you," I say, honestly, and pride fills me. The one professor that I respect, the one course in school that I care about, and I am getting the highest sort of praise.

  His hand slowly moves down from my hair to my neck, resting above my turtleneck and stroking my skin. His touch makes me shiver in desire. He leans down.

  “Next class you’re going to wear a skirt with no panties,” he whispers in my ear, and a little moan escapes my lips.

  “I can do that, sir,” I respond.

  He kisses my ear, and then nips my earlobe lightly. “During break, you’re going to come to my office. I’m going to bend you over my desk and spank you hard.”

  I turn my head and look up at him with shock.

  “But I haven’t broken any rules!”

  He strokes my cheek, his eyes staring into mine.

  “This is all for my pleasure.”

  My nipples harden painfully at his words. I tremble.

  He can punish me just because he wants to see my ass turn red and hear my moans of pain and lust. How did I let him get so much power over me so quickly?

  "Yes, sir."

  I want to be punished so fucking bad.

  I already know what I'm going to wear. A plaid skirt way too high, pigtails and red lipstick.

  I'm going to be his slutty little fantasy.

  He kisses me, deeply and slowly, full of affection. Then he breaks it off and my phone buzzes in my pocket.

  It’s after nine, and Shelly is texting me wondering where I am. I don’t want to leave, but it feels way too soon to ask to stay over.

  “Can you call me a cab?”

  “Sure,” he says, leaving my side and pulling out his phone. He calls me a cab and we sit there for a moment. The house is beautiful and huge around me.

  “You have such a nice house,” I say.

  “Thank you,” says Connor. “It’s a little big for one person, but the study is what makes it worth it. I get so much done in there.”

  The phone rings, signaling that the cab is here. He leads me to the front hall, and helps me get my coat on. He presses a button to open the gate for the cab, letting it drive up the winding driveway.

  "Next time you come over, let me buzz the cab in so you don't have to walk."

  Next time. I like the sound of that.

  He opens the door to the cab for me, and as the cab drives down the long driveway I look back to see him watching me leave.

  I can barely believe what just happened.

  As the cab takes me down the winding road from the rich part of town back to the dorms, it feels like his huge house is a sanctuary, a place for only us.

  As we leave the rich part of town, the houses becoming smaller and smaller, the nagging thought keeps whispering in the back of my brain.

  How the hell did a professor afford a million dollar house?

  Forbidden T
aste

  Connor - Tuesday, November 4th

  I look out at the lecture hall. It’s filled with my students, with one seat empty. Willow’s. She sits at the front of the class, and she’s usually here ten minutes before my class starts.

  Was I too hard on her? Is she too nervous to come to class?

  Today’s lecture will start with a general overview. After the break, I’ll delve into a topic I haven’t felt ready to teach in my time at WCU.

  Joe Maturi. Merciless Maturi.

  I can still see the abject, animal fear in the caged women’s eyes as he walked by, his cane tapping against the bars.

  Joe didn’t need a cane to walk.

  He used it because he preferred getting blood on his cane instead of his hands.

  The Maturi family wasn’t only running illegal gambling rings and selling drugs in their nightclubs.

  They were trafficking women.

  My right hand grabs the wooden podium, clenching against it as I remember having to sit back and watch.

  The only thing that stopped me from killing him there and then was the knowledge that I would put the entire crime family behind bars.

  I push myself out of the past. It’s time to start, even if Willow is late. My classroom is packed, students speaking in hushed voices as they wait for me to begin my lecture. When I clear my throat the class goes silent.

  “Welcome everyone. Can anyone tell me the definition of a psychopath?”

  A few hands shoot up. I motion to a brunette in the second row.

  “A psychopath is a person who’s got a specific mental illness. Um, antisocial personality disorder I think? That means that they don’t feel emotion and empathy the same way as other people. They don’t have the same type of, like, conscience.”

  She starts out strong, becoming unsure of herself at the end. I nod. It’s a good answer.

  “Good. Yes, that’s a fairly good definition. To be more precise -”

  The door at the top of the auditorium opens, and she walks in.

  Her hair is done exactly how it was on Halloween. Naughty little pigtails. Apple red lips gleam in the lights, and I can’t be certain what she’s wearing underneath a winter coat that stretches down halfway past her thighs. She could be wearing a short skirt under her coat… or nothing at all.