Dominant Professor

by Mia Luxe

  “Well, Miss Abernathy, can you explain what caused the fluctuations in Apple Stock prices in the 1990’s?”

  I wrack my brain. Something with the market… I don’t know. It’s so hard to think when I’m looking at his gorgeous body, wanting to pull his shirt off.

  “I don’t know, Sir.”

  It feels so right to call him Sir. I hear a snicker from my right. The class remembers my outburst and how I was sent to his office like a foolish child.

  “You don’t know, Miss Abernathy? Well, if you are no good at answering questions, perhaps we can find something else you are skilled at. Come to the front of the class.”

  All eyes are on me as I walk down the steps and stop in front of Professor Harrison. He pulls his blazer off and puts it neatly on the back of his chair. His chiseled, powerful physique is barely contained by his fitted dress shirt. I remember the picture of his toned, rippling body from his office and I can feel hot desire burning up in me.

  I turn the heat down, grabbing the detachable shower head and bringing it down to my soaking wetness. I am filled with a desire so deep it overwhelms my mind as my cheeks burn red with embarrassment at the fantasy I am having.

  “On your knees, slut.”

  The class laughs at me. They laugh, and humiliation fills me. I can’t help it. I’ll do anything to taste him. All I want is to follow his orders.

  “Unzip my pants.”

  My hands are shaking as I reach forward for the zipper. I can see the massive bulge twitching and hardening beneath his fitted dress pants. My mouth waters. I want it so bad. I unzip his pants slowly, savoring the sight of his massive cock pressing against his briefs. I pull them down, and his cock bursts out, thick and huge. I don’t need any more orders. I know exactly what I am supposed to do. In front of everyone, I lean forward and lick the head of his cock, and then take him greedily into my mouth.

  The pleasure of the pulsing water against my clit makes me pant and moan as I pinch my nipple, imagining the feeling of his cock invading my mouth as he humiliates me in front of everyone. The pleasure grows and washes over me, and I cover my mouth to stop the noise as I moan in deep, dark lust. I feel so fucking naughty as I imagine pleasuring him in front of the class.

  “Oh God yes, Professor Harrison, oh fuck yes…”

  Claimed

  Olivia Abernathy - Wednesday Afternoon

  His office door is in front of me, the last barrier between me and the man who controls my academic future. I have been standing here for at least thirty seconds, trying to compose myself. Standing in front of the door to his office is pure torture. I know he is in there, sitting comfortably at his desk and just waiting to teach me a lesson.

  The fact that he looks down on me like some brat who cannot control her own emotions is utterly humiliating. Ugh, and what I imagined doing last night… I can’t think of that. I need to get through this session without him realizing what dirty thoughts I have about him.

  I take a deep breath and knock. Raising my arm to knock is difficult, and not because I am dreading this session. The mere act of raising my arm reminds me of how sore my entire body is from the grueling practice. Every inch of my body is on fire.

  “Come in.”

  I step inside, closing the door behind me. Being in the same room as him, alone, sends a shiver down my spine. He stands up as I enter the room, like an old-school gentleman from the movies. He motions for me to sit down, the wooden chair doing nothing to help my aching body. He sits down in front of me, closing his laptop.

  “I’m glad you came.”

  “I didn’t exactly have a choice…”

  He laughs dryly.

  “No, you didn’t. If you want to stay in my class, these sessions are mandatory. You don’t have a choice now, but you had the choice in the first place. You made a choice to swear at me in front of my class. There are consequences to your actions.”

  “Yes Professor,” I say, trying not to remember that humiliating moment in class.

  He points to the picture of him winning a race, the picture that first had me imagining the shredded body underneath his clothes.

  “That was my moment of triumph. But I never got farther than nationals. I missed my chance to get to the Olympics. My best event was the 400-meter freestyle. In my qualifying run, I needed a time of 3:58.51. My best ever was 3:56.11.”

  So what stopped him from making it?

  “I could make the time easily. But I didn’t. I started out weak, and I never got it back. I lost my focus to frustration and I cost myself the chance to represent our country at the international stage. I vowed never again to let my frustration control me.”

  He used to have trouble with frustration? But he seems so cool and composed.

  “Did you keep swimming?”

  “Yes, but I missed my chance. That year I was in my peak condition, and I was never able to compete at such a high level again. I decided to focus on growing my business.”

  I realize how little I know about this man. He never talks about himself in class. His lectures focus on case studies and theory, but behind every word I could sense experience. Experience from his own business dealings. He was never like the other Professors who seemed to be speaking someone else’s words. Everything he said sounded like it came from his own life.

  “I want you to think back to your outburst. What caused it? Were you pissed at me, or was something else going on?”

  I remembered the mistake I had made. The way the other team’s hitter had played me, drawing me out of position. The way she had laughed and mocked me.

  “It was the other team. One of them… she beat me fair and square, but then she mocked me. She laughed at me, at my mistake, at the way that I fucked up and let down my team. I’m worried I’m going to fuck up tonight when we need a win to even have a shot at playoffs. I am so worried I am going to make the same mistake in tonight’s game.”

  His eyebrow raises and I realize I dropped two F-bombs.

  “I’ll let the language slide, this time. What did she look like?”

  “Shorter than me. Blond hair, skinny. I could tell from a glance she is a stuck up - a stuck up person.”

  I catch myself before calling her a bitch.

  “And she dominated you.”

  The word is like a punch.

  She did what to me?

  “Say again?”

  He looks me deep in the eye and I struggle to meet his gaze.

  “She didn’t just beat you on the court. She got into your head and dominated your thoughts. She beat you with her body, and she beat you with her mind. Look. Are you stupid?”

  “No,” I say, and I can hear the ferocity in my voice.

  “You know that 100% for certain?”

  I can feel my fists clenching.

  Is he calling me stupid?

  There is venom in my voice when I respond.

  “Yes I know I’m not stupid. Your class is the only one that I don’t have an A in. I’m. Not. Stupid.”

  “Good. Then what happens if I call you stupid? How does it make you feel?”

  “But you don’t call me -”

  “You’re stupid. You don’t have an A in my class because your work is poor, naive, and idealistic. The only reason you have good grades in your classes is that you have a pretty face, not because of your mind.”

  I gasp. I look into his inscrutable eyes. I can feel a tear welling up in my eye from his cruel words, but I fight it back.

  Is this a test? Why the hell is he being such an asshole!

  “I’m not stupid! Don’t call me that!”

  He nods his head.

  “I don’t think you’re stupid. You’re the smartest student in my class. The only reason you haven’t gotten an A yet is because your work is brilliant but unrefined. If you want to succeed in tonight’s game, or in business, you need to have control of your mind.”

  He thinks I am the smartest student in the entire class? But… the way he tears my answers apart…
r />   The sudden change from calling me naive and idealistic to praising me puts me off balance.

  “You know you are smart. You’d be a fool not to realize it. As soon as you stepped into my class I knew you were something special. But when I call you stupid, when I call you foolish, you react. You get angry or shocked, and you lose control of your emotions. If you know something is false it doesn’t affect you. Let’s try it again. Are you lazy?”

  I shake my head.

  “No. I work hard. I give it my all every practice. I give it my all in the gym, preparing so I can be the best for my team. I am going to put everything on the line tonight if Coach Feldman lets me play. I study every day to get good grades and keep my scholarship.”

  He drums his fingers against his desk, weighing my words.

  “Bullshit. You’re a lazy, entitled little brat who thinks because she puts a bit of work in she deserves respect. I worked 14 hours every day to get my first restaurant up and running. You don’t even have the discipline to edit your damn assignments before handing them in. Do you know how many typos I’ve seen in your work? It’s disgraceful!”

  I clench my fist. His words hurt, his eyes piercing me. I take a deep breath, searching his words for truth.

  “None. You haven’t found a single typo.”

  “Very good,” he says, and finally he smiles. “I have not found a single typo in anything you’ve handed in. When you know something is not the truth, when you believe something to your core, then lies cannot hurt you. If you let them hurt you, then the liar wins. Hold out your hand.”

  He holds his hand out, and it stands strong and steady. I lift mine, wincing at the soreness and see that it quivers.

  “In time, your hand will be as steady as mine, even facing stress. I see a future for you that has you making million-dollar deals without blinking an eye.”

  I cannot hold my arm up any longer. My back aches from the workout of the night before. With a gasp, I let my hand fall.

  “Are you injured?” He tilts his head to the right in concern. His gorgeous blue eyes are studying my body intensely.

  “No, nothing bad. Just really, really sore. I’m so worried that I’m not going to be able to play my best in tonight’s game, and if we lose it… we’re done. Out of playoff contention.”

  “Did you take a hot shower last night?”

  “I did,” I say, unable to meet his eyes. I trace my finger on my thigh, remembering last night in vivid detail.

  If he knew I imagined giving him a blowjob in front of everyone, what would he say?

  “I can help. As a swimmer, I would train and compete so hard there were days when I could not walk by the end of it.”

  He stands and moves behind me. His light cologne tantalizes me.

  His hands gently touch my shoulders, and a tingle shoots down my body. I do not flinch at all from his touch, which is gentle but powerful.

  “Trust me, this will help.”

  His hands start to work my shoulders, and instantly I feel the tension releasing. His fingers are magical. They probe into the knots and relax my body.

  As his hands work my body I can feel the slight warmth of his breath on my neck. His touch makes me lick my lips, wanting so much more.

  If only he wasn’t my Professor, if only he didn’t think of me as a student, if only he looked at me as a woman…

  I can’t help but remember the filthy fantasy I had the night before. My nipples harden painfully, begging for his touch. I want more than anything for his magical hands to move from my back to my breasts, massaging me and making me moan in pleasure.

  A little gasp of lust emerges from my lips, and my cheeks redden with need as he works my body. His hand moves up from my shoulder and his fingers slide up my neck and caress my cheek. I turn my head to look at him.

  His kiss meets my lips, and in a shocking instant, I can feel his mouth against mine. He kisses me hard and deep and when he breaks it off we are both panting with desire.

  Holy fuck, this is really happening.

  He lifts me from the chair as if I weigh nothing and slides me onto his desk. His mouth finds my neck, his teeth nipping at my bare flesh. I have never wanted a man so bad in my life. I can feel the wetness soaking between my thighs, feel the hot heat of absolute need. I want him to fuck me hard in his office.

  My hands fumble at his shirt, unbuttoning as his tongue invades my eager mouth. His body is hard and taut under my hands, muscled steel.

  I can’t believe how good his muscles feel under my hands. I want more. I want to feel his cock.

  I slide my hand down against the front of his pants and my mouth opens to his hungry tongue as I feel the enormous rock hard shaft under my hands.

  No one’s that big.

  I need to be filled by Professor Harrison’s cock more than anything in the world.

  He breaks the kiss to pull my shirt off, throwing it down beside me on the desk. His hands deftly undo my bra strap in one swift move. My nipples are hard and tingle for his touch but he simply leans back, unzipping his pants and pulling out his enormous throbbing cock.

  That’s the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen.

  I can see the pure, deep lust in his eyes, mirroring my desire. And yet, the pause grows tortuously. He is on the edge, fighting his utter need.

  “Fuck me, Professor Harrison,” I moan, surprised by the words that escape my mouth, my thoughts uncontrollably spilling out.

  It pushes him over the edge. He pulls my skirt up and pushes my panties to the side, pressing his cock against my wetness.

  He’s too big. He’ll never fit inside of me.

  One of his hands holds my back and the other pinches my nipple hard. I gasp in pleasure as the head of his cock enters my slit. I am so wet his iron hard cock slowly works its way into me with each thrust of his powerful hips.

  “You’re so fucking tight,” he growls, and fiery desire consumes me. I grab his firm ass, pulling him deeper and feel his cock pressing inside of me, deeper than anything has ever been.

  As his burning blue eyes stare into mine, the enormity of the situation truly starts to sink in. I am in my Professor’s office, the man that every female student on campus dreams about, his powerful cock thrusting into me and making me moan like a slut.

  “Oh Professor,” I gasp as he growls and finally thrusts the entirety of his manhood into me, pressing deep inside and I can see that desire has overcome him. It hurts so good. He fucks me like an animal, grunting, and growling and I know that if anyone walked by the closed office door they would know what was happening inside.

  I am shocked when I feel the heat building inside of me. My bastard ex-boyfriend never made me cum. I always wondered if something was wrong with me.

  Here Professor Harrison is in complete control.

  Every breath I take in I smell his cologne mixed with his own scent, my entire vision filled with the muscled hunk who is pounding me hard. All I can hear is his harsh breathing, his growls of pleasure as he takes me entirely and my eyes roll back as the orgasm washes over me. Wave after wave of pleasure consumes me and his huge hand covers my mouth as I scream. I bite down hard against his hand in the throes of my orgasm.

  His huge cock rams into me over and over, and I can feel him nearing his own orgasm. I want to feel his seed spurting deep inside of me.

  Cum in me Professor Harrison, make me yours.

  I can feel his hot cum filling me. He fucks me like a beast mating and fills me with his seed. His cock throbs as he explodes deep inside of me.

  Oh my God I love feeling his cum in me.

  His pace slows until every last drop of cum is inside of me. He slides his cock out of me and pushes my panties back into place.

  I lay panting on his desk, my body quivering and my legs shaky. It takes minutes before I can stand, smoothing my skirt and pulling my shirt back on. I can feel his huge load of cum pressing against my soaked panties, his seed mixed with my wetness. I look around for a tissue, and reach for the box.


  Professor Harrison pushes the box out of my reach.

  “No. You’re going to walk to dorms with my cum inside of you. Every step will remind you that you’re mine now.

  Oh my God, he can’t do this. Fuck, I’ll do anything he says.

  My mind feels addled by the power of my orgasm.

  “Yes Professor,” I say, unsure of how to process what just happened. I can feel his seed inside me, dangerously close to flooding out.

  “Write your number down before you go,” he orders, pointing at a piece of paper on his desk. I scrawl my number quickly, and he takes the paper in his hand then kisses me once more. I catch my breath, and he opens the door to his office for me.

  I scurry out, feeling his cum pressing against my panties and knowing I need to get back to dorms quickly. No one is in the hallway, thankfully, or they would see my bright red, embarrassed face as I head back to my dorm room.

  Every step I am reminded that he has claimed me.

  Mind and Body

  Bruce Harrison - Wednesday Afternoon

  As the door shuts behind her, I know there is no going back. I crossed the line.

  I zip my pants up and pound my fist against the solid wood of my desk. I can feel the heat in my freshly emptied balls, the relaxed feeling of my body after the incredible sex a contrast to my thoughts.

  You damn fool. You couldn’t resist her. The moment when she gasped and you heard her mirrored lust, when you realized she didn’t hate you but wanted you… you lost control.

  I double check that the door is closed then talk to myself urgently.

  “I just risked her entire academic future. If the Dean finds out about this, she’ll be thrown out of my class, and her mark will be forfeit. She could lose her scholarship. Damn you Bruce, you fool!”

  I sit down. My thoughts get clearer.

  No one is going to find out. She’s an adult, and she’s capable of deciding on her own whether or not she wants to be with me. Fuck the rules. I will do anything and everything in my power to protect her. As long as I’m alive, nothing bad will happen to her.