by Gia Blue
But when Sir decided to be Master instead? She swallowed and put her hand to her chest, bunching her shirt with her fist. She clenched the muscles between her legs in anticipation.
The knock at her room door came all too soon and she jumped at the noise. Not one to be left standing at the door without doling out punishment, she quickly walked over and opened it for him.
He didn't even greet her before his hands cupped her face and he kissed her. Her instincts pressed her to resist, but he merely pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. His tongue teased hers, crushing and taking what he wanted. She squirmed in his arms and he tangled one hand in her hair, finally breaking the kiss by pulling her head back. Heat flared in her cheeks as she stared at him, trying to catch her breath.
He smirked and released her, taking a step back. A quick assessment of her now-disheveled appearance made his smirk grow and he nodded. She blushed even more, her fingers twitching with the want to cover herself. But she'd already learned that Master didn't like her covering herself; that was his decision to make.
She took the time to let her gaze linger over his body. As always, he wore a crisp black suit with a black shirt underneath. Today he'd chosen a rose red tie with a matching handkerchief for his pocket. His usual self seemed shaken somehow, though. His hair was windblown and the tie slightly askew. Even his polished black shoes had a few scuffs on them. He'd left his briefcase on the floor, half in and half out of the doorway - something he never did as either Sir or Master.
Curiosity got the better of her.
"Did something -"
"Hush," he said, holding up his hand.
Part of her riled at being told to be quiet and she nearly opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought. But something in his eyes told her that he was just waiting for her to talk back so he could take her over his knee, and she pursed her lips instead.
"That's my kitten," he said, running his fingertips along her jaw. "It doesn't matter what happened. All the matters to you is what I want. Understand?"
She nodded, a shiver of sweet release washing over.
"Good girl." He looked her over once more and then took a hold of her shirt. With one swift movement, he tore her shirt all the way open, sending the remaining buttons shooting across the room. One stubborn button remained at the bottom and he repeated the gesture, rendering her shirt completely ruined with the sound of ripping material.
He didn't pause before pulling the shirt off her and tossing it aside. A growl began deep in his chest as he took in the light pink silk corset with black lace ribbing and five silver hooks on the front. His hands drifted downward and he grasped her breasts, teasing her hardened nipples under the silk with his thumbs.
"Kitten has chosen well. I approve." He leaned forward and nipped her earlobe, his hot breath tickling her neck. Then he whispered, "I am going to enjoy ripping it off you."
She glanced at the still open door and then back at him.
"Is there something you want to say, kitten?" he asked, one eyebrow arched.
She swallowed and shook her head.
He smiled. "Good girl." Then he put his fingers inside the hem of her skirt and suddenly pulled.
The zipper of her skirt ripped with seemingly little effort from him and he let the skirt fall, the material pooling around her feet. He ran his hands up her stockings, pausing at the suspenders to pull them and then snap them against her skin. She jumped with each snap and bit her bottom lip, her eyes darting to the open door as he trailed his fingers up to her garter belt. He played with black button securing her garter belt and contemplated it for a moment.
"Enough," he said suddenly and turned toward the door.
For a terrifying moment, she thought she had displeased him and nearly dropped to her knees to beg him to come back. She needed this. She needed him. She needed the release of being controlled and used and completely at the mercy of a man.
But he didn't leave. He picked up his briefcase and tossed it aside before closing the door and locking it. When he turned around to face her, the desire on his face made her heart race. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and tossed it aside, kicking off his shoes at the same time.
"Strip me," he said.
The tone of his voice left no room for protest, but protest was the last thing on her mind.
She eagerly stepped forward and fell to her knees in front of him. As he unbuttoned his shirt, she fumbled for a moment with his belt before steadying her fingers enough to undo it along with his trouser button and zipper. His cock was already hard and pressing against his midnight blue boxers. She pulled his boxers down slowly, unwilling to let his urgency deny her the small pleasure of revealing his cock bit by bit. She then let his boxers drop down to around his ankles and she couldn't resist reaching up to take it in her hand.
He smacked her hand. "No. Stand up."
She raised her chin and refused with a pout of her lips. As Sir, he would have given her a second chance to stand. In the Master mood, he reached down, grabbed a handful of her hair and brought her to her feet as she whimpered.
He held her to him, his cock pressing against her bare abdomen in the bare space below her corset and above her panties. He pulled her hair, forcing her head back and exposing her neck. Suddenly knowing what he'd decided was suitable punishment, she squirmed against him. She was no match as he bit her neck and then sucked where he had bitten, leaving her with a dark red mark that would be hard to cover up in the morning.
Her squirming against him had him breathing hard and he yanked off the suspenders of her garter belt one by one.
He marched her backward and then pushed her back onto the bed, a delighted giggle escaping her lips as he pulled at her corset. Any gentleness disappeared with his hunger. The cheap metal hooks held only briefly before pulling straight under his efforts. She had the brief thought that you get what you pay for before his cock pressing against her pussy brought her back to attention. She was already wet, the damp pooling in her panties.
Finally he tore the corset away and immediately began kneading her breasts, pressing his face between them before kissing one, then the other.
"I love your breasts, kitten," he said, his voice a deep rumble that barely formed the words.
And she barely heard them, the sensation of his hands on her making her pant. She bit her bottom lip to stop herself for begging him for more. More what, she didn't know, but she wanted all of it that he could give. He let go for a moment, eliciting a series of 'no' from her until he began pulling off her panties. She nearly kicked him in her desire to rid herself on the material, begging him to take them off her quickly.
This wish granted, soon his hands were back on her breasts. He pinched one nipple, drawing a whimper from her as he began to suck on her other nipple. She bucked up against his cock, inviting him to move inside her, but he pressed his weight harder down on her to keep his cock firmly on her pussy.
He began rocking on top of her, his cock pressing down further between her pussy lips with each stroke. She reached and grabbed his hips, urging him for more, and he grabbed her wrists, forcing them down on the bed. No matter how she moved or pulled, she couldn't get free from his grip.
Chuckling, looked down at her. She moved her hips, pouting, and he smiled.
"Say it."
She whimpered.
"Say it, kitten."
She tossed her head from side to side, the dominant woman in her rising up to resist him. For a moment she rose up, ready to spit in his face. And he knew it. Their eyes locked and he rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit.
"Say it."
The beginnings of an orgasm curled from her clit to deep inside her pussy and she fell back onto the bed. She dug her fingers into the sheets, losing the battle of dominance moments before losing every thought of battle that had been in her mind.
"Please," she said, drawing the single word out into a long moan.
He answered her with a growl, releasing her wrists as he moved down h
er body. He knelt down at the end of the bed and pushed her legs apart, splaying his hands on her abdomen. The examination would have made her die of embarrassment just weeks ago. Now she practically purred as she waited for his assessment.
"You've kept clean for me," he said, tracing his fingers down the neatly trimmed strip of hair leading to her pussy. He sounded steady enough, but even in her arousal, she could hear the effort he used to stay in control. His impatience broke through as he nearly destroyed her panties like he had her shirt and garter belt.
When he'd finally taken her panties off and tossed them across the room, he pressed down with a single finger, keeping one fingertip just inside her pussy lips. As his fingertip passed over her aching clit, she jumped and gasped. He pressed his finger deeper and then used another finger as well to press inside her. She clenched all her muscles, moaning and moving against his fingers.
"You're ready for me."
"I am, I am," she said. "I am." She tugged on his shoulders, urging him upward. "Please, I'm ready."
He was more than ready, too, and done being gentle. He stood, bringing his erect cock into her full view before pressed into her. He easily sank his cock deep inside her, her
She cried out as he slammed his cock into her. He cared only for his own pleasure and the knowledge aroused her like nothing else. The world dimmed around her. She gripped his shoulders, urging him faster. The waves of pleasure built inside her. Everything washed away but for that single desire to have more. Him more. His cock more. His movement inside her more.
He needed no encouragement. His breath began to come in grunts. He sank down, winding his fingers into her hair. The pain of each pull and tease added to the building pool of her orgasm.
"So close," she whispered. "So close."
He began to move into her harder.
Suddenly she came and she cried out again and again as the ecstasy flooded her body. She clenched her pussy again and again, clinging to him to make the waves continue. With one last wave, she clenched her pussy and kept it clenched.
He groaned and arched his back, thrusting into her with jerking movements. She held him as tightly as she could in every way. He pulled her hair again and she whimpered. With a final thrust, he released an explosive breath and slowly the tension drained from his muscles.
Finally, he collapsed on top of her, and they stayed there catching their breaths for a few moments. She shifted slightly under his weight so she could breath and then closed her eyes.
He stayed inside her until he grew softer. With one hand, he reached over and pulled down the blankets of the bed. They both shifted just enough to put their heads on the pillows. She 'mmmed' with pleasure and kissed his shoulder.
"Well done, kitten," he said, placing a single kiss on her forehead. "You've pleased your Master."
He turned over on his side, facing away from her, and she smiled. She felt exhausted and sore in the delicious ways only sex could make her feel. She clenched all her muscles one more time, sending and echo of pleasure skittering through her.
Sighing happily, she closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep.
* * *
Selene woke the next morning to the sound of the door clicking shut. She frowned and rubbed her eyes. Then the scent of Master and last night's sex came to her and a slow smile spread across her lips. Her pussy was still slightly sore from his treatment of it last night. She felt dirty and sticky from the sweat and cum.
Very un-Selene-like.
The pillow next to her still had the indent of where his head had rested. In the indent, a single piece of paper shook as she exhaled. She reached out from under the blanket and picked it up.
'Have fun in New York, kitten. -Sir '
Huh. So she'd tamed Master. For now, at least.
She glanced at the clock. She had another hour before her alarm would go off. New York and other thoughts were for later. She put the note back on the pillow and cocooned herself further in the warmth of the blankets, closing her eyes.
For now, she was kitten.
About the Author
Alexandra West loves chocolate-covered pretzels, collars, corsets and all sorts of other things starting with the letter 'C'. She's come a long way (no pun intended) from her tween days giggling and blushing while reading historical romances. She loves a good quickie and that translates into her short erotic fiction.
http://xandrawest.blogspot.com
Spanked by Her Student – Sasha Storm
Chapter 1: Valerie Earns a Spanking
Valerie clutched her briefcase close to her chest as she hurried down the hall. She would be late to class if she weren’t careful, and she couldn’t slack on her teaching duties any more — the dean was starting to notice. She wished Marcus let her button up her blouse higher. It was bad enough constantly near-flashing her almost all-male class of virile college students. She didn’t need her colleagues seeing the wanton display of cleavage as well.
The hallway was empty, and Valerie was thankful for that, at least. Until she turned the corner and bumped straight into him. He was standing there, waiting for her.
Grinning wolfishly.
Marcus.
The door to an empty classroom was beside him. He pushed it open. “After you,” he said. “Slut.”
Valerie glared at him briefly and marched through the doorway. “I’ll be late for class, you know—” she began.
“Oh, I know,” Marcus said. “And you’ll be even later than me. You know we can’t walk in together.” She’d told him that at their first encounter, and ever since then he’d used it against her to make her arrive a few minutes after him, every time. “Put that briefcase down and show me what you’ve got.”
Out of habit her body responded to his demands. She set her work aside and pulled the short skirt she wore up past her hips. The skirt barely covered her ass as it was, and beneath she was naked, brown curls delineating her womanhood.
Oh, Valerie wanted to defy him. She wanted to tell him he was out of line, that she was old enough to be, well, if not quite his mother, at least an aunt. That she didn’t like him or what he did to her, with her….
Marcus shot his hand at her pubis, cupping her entire pussy. He rubbed his fingers against her damp labia. “My, what is this? Spread.”
Valerie stepped wider. Marcus slid a finger inside her vagina, then slipped in a second finger. “What is all this wetness?” he tsked.
She didn’t know why he had her do this. She didn’t need to spread her legs while standing for him to be able to finger her. He just did it to humiliate her, to make a point. Well, she wasn’t going to let him get that satisfaction.
“Have we been touching without permission? You know this—” and he put his thumb near her clit, fingers still inside her, and squeezed her entire pussy area — “is mine.”
“Yes,” Valerie said, her voice going a bit hoarse against her will, then she panicked, realizing Marcus might not understand which question she was answering.
“Hmm?” Marcus asked idly, squeezing again and rubbing her clit with his thumb for good measure.
“No! No, I haven’t been touching, I swear.”
Marcus slid his fingers, gliding easily in and out of her lubricated hole. Valerie grabbed his shoulder, wishing he’d move back to her clit. The area felt so empty, so lost with his thumb’s pressure gone.
Marcus pulled his fingers out abruptly, leaving them touching her labia. “Hands behind your back!” he snapped, “Unless you want to crawl into that classroom on all fours.”
Shit. In the aroused state she was in, she might just do it, too. Valerie quickly clasped her hands behind her back, just as much to avoid having to discover the depths of her own depravity as it was to get Marcus to begin fingering her again as a reward for obeying.
With her arms behind her, her chest was thrust outward, and Valerie could feel her breasts straining against the thin material of her blouse. As it was, it barely covered her nipples, and now, pressed taut, the cloth coul
d not contain the top of her cleavage from spilling over. Marcus shoved two fingers inside her pussy again, and thrust quickly in and out. Valerie held her hands more tightly and swayed on her feet as she tried to maintain her balance even as her arousal grew and her breathing became heavier.
Marcus stopped fingering her hole and rubbed around her clit methodically. Against every smidgen of propriety she held, Valerie moaned. More, yes, please. Marcus leaned in to her ear. “Stand still, slut,” he said hoarsely. “And no noise.”
Valerie bit off the moan that was rising in her throat. All that came out was a pathetic whimper.
Abruptly Marcus pulled his hand away. Oh, he was a looker. Brown hair, puppy-adorable brown eyes, a body hard enough to prove he lifted weights and soft enough to prove he drank a little beer. Valerie had made love to that body once, taken him as a lark, she’d thought. A plaything for a night. He didn’t seem the type for long-term relationships or mooning over older professor types anyway.
And, it turned out, he wasn’t that type at all. Marcus wasn’t the type to be a plaything or to be used by his professor. He’d rather enjoyed turning the tables and making her — no, forcing her — to be his playing, and not just for a night.
Marcus was fond of saying he didn’t know if he’d ever tire of using Valerie. But presently, he was tired of her mistakes, however innocent they might have been. Valerie knew this was a dangerous moment for her.
Marcus grabbed her shoulders, a strangely similar gesture to hers in the hallway, and turned her around, gently, but brooking no resistance. Valerie let herself be turned, hands still behind her back. That ought to please him, she thought.
She was now standing in front of a waist-high desk, and realization dawned on her. Oh no, people will hear. There will be noise.
He pressed on her shoulder blades, pushing until she was bent ninety degrees at the waist, her torso on the desk, her right cheek smushed against the old wood. “What happens to bad girls, slut?” he asked, more than a bit rhetorically.