The Professor's Sex Slave

by Colleen Anderson

  Breeding Tales – Boss, Professor, and Billionaire

  Colleen Anderson

  Published by eBook Publishing World at Smashwords

  Copyright 2012 Colleen Anderson

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real world events, people, actions, and organizations, are purely coincidental and unintended.

  Smashword Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Adults Only

  *****

  The Professor's Sex Slave

  by

  Colleen Anderson

  Other books by the author:

  On Her Professor's Couch

  Come Back to Me

  Oil Pump: The Dirty South

  *****

  Chapter 1

  Sophomore year of college, to save some money, I rented a house just off campus in Collegetown. The price was cheap for how close it was to everything and since it was in the suburbs, there was plenty of room for everything. For just about four hundred bucks a month, I managed to live with a large living room, a study, a kitchen, and a full bathroom. The best part was the basement that was included. It had been renovated before I moved in and was spotless.

  I moved in Friday before semester started and the first thing I did was take a look at the basement and make the proper arrangements down there. I put two beds there—one for sleeping, and the other one for disciplining. The second 'bed' was more of a recliner than a full bed. It was very narrow and had a hole on the seat to accommodate a massive dildo. On the seat was my prized possession: a string of anal beads featuring twenty steel beads, with a large bead for every four small ones.

  I've only managed to fit about sixteen of the beads inside of me before. Every time I tried to push the final four inside of me, the pain would stop me. I desperately wanted to see just how far my limits truly were, but I couldn't push myself past that sixteenth bead. I swore that one day, I would fit the entire length inside of me.

  The beads had a beautiful rose at the end. It was about the size of my palm, pink, and adorned with three green leaves around its rose petals. When the entire length is pushed in, it would put a beautiful flower on my asshole.

  I've always wanted to see that image.

  I glanced over at my computer and thought about Professor Wright. He had greeted me outside of the classroom on the first day of his Sex and Medieval Literature class. I almost mistook him for a student at first glance with his dark skinny jeans, plain white T-shirt, and tweed sportcoat. His messy yet neatly trimmed hairline blended perfectly with his elegantly square jaw. A pair of horn-rimmed glasses cemented his sophisticated look.

  I must've been very tired that day because he immediately asked me why I looked so down. Granted, it was January and my university was known for having miserable winter conditions that could potentially last all the way into May.

  I told him that it was because I had gotten up late for class and that the roads were icy—they were. He smiled and said not to worry. The professor for the class was pretty lenient.

  Imagine my surprise when he was the one that took up the podium. The other girls were fawning over him. I looked to my left and was pretty sure that one of the girls was secretly playing with herself as he lectured.

  I'll admit, I thought about doing the same, but Professor Wright was actually a great lecturer. I had picked the class for academic breadth requirements—a stupid policy for the College of Arts and Sciences—but by the end of the lecture, I actually wanted to know more about the sexual practices of the Medieval Ages as well as the literature that rose up around them. It was weird...

  I caught up with Professor Wright after lecture—along with several other girls—and told him just how much I enjoyed the first class—again, along with several other girls. But for some reason or another, Professor Wright blew right past all of them and focused his attention on me and me alone.

  He suggested that I show up to his office hours if I wanted to find out more about the subject and I was more than happy to oblige.

  When I got to his office, the room was already packed full of other girls from class. But Professor Wright greeted me personally and asked me to sit down.

  At the end of office hours, he told me to stay behind, saying that he wanted to speak to me alone.

  We talked well into the night, touching on every subject possible. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked me if I had a cruel streak in me. Confused, I asked him what he meant and he asked with a devious glint in his eyes if I had a fondness for pleasure from pain.

  I was absolutely floored by his frankness. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. He was the professor on Sex and Medieval Literature for chrissake. After a few awkward moments of silence, I started opening up to him.

  We were shockingly similar in our tastes. We both hated the sight of blood and injury but loved it when the pain was enough to elicit the most foul kinds of pleasure from our bodies. The only difference was that he preferred to dominate while I sought out submission. In a way, it was perfect.

  I told him that he has inspired me to dive more into the subject. He offered me private, one-on-one office hour sessions. In those sessions, we discussed at length about the different sexual deviancies of the Medieval Ages, including their shocking foray into domination and submission. We even adopted names for ourselves: he was Master and I was Slave. During every one of those meetings, I secretly wished that he would suddenly grab me and force me onto his desk. But Professor Wright was strictly professional.

  Each session ended on a handshake, and nothing more. The week before our final exam, he asked me for a non-university affiliated email to be contacted at. Embarrassed that my non-university email was a stupid one I made back in middle school, I reluctantly gave it to him. He smirked when he saw the name but said nothing more.

  I sat down by my computer and saw that I had one unread email.

  From: Master

  To: 'Slave'

  Subject:

  Slave,

  Have you forgotten your Master? Now is the time to begin your sessions in earnest. You said you wanted to learn more and that is precisely what I will deliver you. You will experience pain and pleasure in a way that you've never thought was possible. Are you ready?

  Send me your phone number and answer 'Slave' when you are called. But remember this: the longer you delay, the more severe your punishment will be.

  In cruciato sit ecstasia

  Master

  That Latin phrase was without a doubt him. And he even signed it Master! I was shaking from excitement and immediately sent my number to him. Not five minutes later, my phone buzzed. I looked down at the string of unknown digits and hesitated a moment before I answered it.

  “This is Ksenia.”

  “Wrong answer, Slave.” Professor Wright's voice grated through my phone. “But we will fix that in due time. Tell me your address. I will meet you there in precisely three hours after this conversation. Use this time to prepare yourself. Do not disappoint me for our first meeting.”

  That voice! The authority! I felt like he was already in the room with me. Stammering, I told him my address
and the line went dead immediately. I closed my phone and regret started flashing through my head. Now that Professor Wright was becoming a reality, I suddenly wanted to run away. What if I'm not ready? What if he's rougher than I could handle? What if I'm making a mistake? A million similar thoughts ran through my head as I stared at the phone.

  I looked at the time and suddenly realized that I had spent the past half-hour going back and forth in my head. I spent no time for preparation and He was coming soon!

  I immediately took a shower and cleaned myself thoroughly—inside and out. I didn't know if He preferred me naked or clothed and decided that a little bit of clothing would probably work best. I walked downstairs into my basement and approached my disciplining chair. I thought about what He planned to do with me. Maybe some heavy spanking...

  And that was when my eyes rested on the string of beads. I figured that He would love punishing my asshole. After all, it was something that came up a lot in lecture. With that, I settled on that as the best way to prepare myself. I grabbed the bottle of KY jello and smeared it all along the beads as well as the insides of my asshole. The slipperiness felt wonderful and I shuddered at the thought of the full length inside of me.

  Taking a deep breath, I pushed the first bead into my asshole. The sensation of penetration was always slightly more painful than I'd like, but I had put on a good amount of KY to make sure of my comfort. I closed my eyes and imagined that it was Professor Wright who was pushing the baton deeper inside of me. I trembled at the thought and my asshole relaxed slightly as it dipped ever lower.

  One by one, the beads entered me, each one sending shivers down my spine. I knelt forward and rested my right leg on a nearby chair. One hand clung to the armrest while the other continued pushing the beads deeper inside. I chanced a look at the mirror across from me and saw my naked reflection biting her lips as beads of sweat broke out across her forehead.

  Heat rose in my face and my reflection blushed. The pink mouth was pursed in a line as pain mixed with pleasure. Another bead entered my ass and I whimpered. My body squirmed, trying to escape but I clenched my jaw and told myself to endure.

  The sixteenth bead was almost completely inside of me now. I felt like I was at my limit and started screaming as I tried to force another one inside.

  “No! Stop! Oh God I can't!” I was screaming at myself but my own trembling hand ignored me. Instead of stopping, it pushed with extra force. A sensation of fullness that I never experienced before pulsed through my body. My voice dimmed to a hoarse whisper as the seventeenth bead entered me for the first time.

  Slowly but surely, I forced the beads inside of me one by one. My legs shook as the twentieth and final bead—the largest of the group—was inserted halfway in my ass. Sweat dripped from my body and I panted loudly as I—screaming—gave one final push.

  The bead plopped inside as a wave of heat washed over my body and I fell forward. Catching myself on my limbs, I looked forward at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was disheveled and covered my face. The sweat made my body glisten with a golden sheen from the soft basement light. I stood up in the silence. The beads shifted slightly inside of me and another shudder ran through my spine. I turned myself around and admired the rose on my ass.

  I was almost ready to receive him.

  I needed to hurry. No telling how much time I had already wasted just getting myself ready. If He's mad on our first meeting... I trembled at the thought and my asshole clenched tightly. I looked back at my reflection again. The flower was like a key. Whoever can take it off was truly my master. I trudged my way over to the small drawer nearby. The beads shifted again inside of me. A burst of pain and pleasure ripped through my body and I nearly collapsed. Gasping, I grabbed hold of the dresser and pulled myself back up. My pussy was starting to get wet and I gave it a quick rub, moaning as the pleasure ebbed through me.

  There was a studded collar in the dresser. I cuffed myself and ran my hand over my smooth body. As my hand rubbed past my breasts and down to my lower abdomen, I felt a slight bump that hinted at the twenty beads inside of me. What else do I need?

  Oh of course, my cellphone.

  I looked around for my phone and realized that I had left it upstairs. Cursing, I slowly trudged upstairs, clenching my jaw to keep the twofold sensation of pain and pleasure at bay. By the time I got to my phone on the counter, I saw that I had about ten minutes before He arrived.

  I picked up a condom and stuffed the phone inside of it. Taking a deep breath, I pushed my wrapped phone—a slim mini music phone—into my pussy. I secretly thanked the Lord that I was already wet. The phone still felt just a tad too big for me, but I was able to accommodate it. Picking up a flimsy saffron sundress, I slipped it on and approached the door.

  The phone and the beads were separated by the thin barrier of my most sensitive flesh. Every step made my knees buckle and I felt the pressure of an orgasm building up inside of me.

  No! I can't come without permission!

  Clenching my teeth to hold back the deep throbs pounding through my veins, I stood at my door and unlocked it, waiting for Professor Wright—my Master—to show up.

  And then I heard it, the unmistakable sound of tires crunching on gravel. The engine stuttered off, yielding to the sound of cicadas buzzing in the hot summer air. A car door slammed shut and I waited with abated breath as the sound of leather shoes tapping against concrete floors came closer and closer.

  A string of loud knocks came. “Slave. Open this door right now.” God, he sounded so brusque!

  I took a step forward but hesitated again. Why am I afraid now? What's wrong with me? I was five steps away from the door but somehow rooted to the spot, my hand frozen in mid-air.

  The knock came again. “Obedience is a virtue, Slave. Have you forgotten what I said? The longer you delay, the more severe your punishment will be.”

  I closed my eyes. The beads shifted inside of me again. No, I'm not ready for this yet.

  The doorbell rang three times, precisely one second apart. I froze. Maybe he'll leave if no one answers... The doorbell rang again, faster this time. I was shaking. After a few minutes, there was no third set of rings. I sighed in relief. He had left.

  Suddenly, a deep vibration exploded inside of me. It was my cellphone. The powerful buzzing bounced with the beads in my ass and strength drained from my legs.

  “Oh God!” I bit back my cry but a moan managed to escape my lips.

  “I can hear you, Slave.” There was a silky dangerousness in his level voice.

  The phone continued to vibrate. I couldn't take it anymore and fell to all fours. Warm nectar flowed from my pussy and I crawled to the door. “I'm o-opening the d-door. P-Please, Master, f-forgive me.”

  The phone stopped vibrating immediately. Still on my knees, I opened the door. A hot breeze rolled through and lifted my saffron sundress. Raising my head, I locked eyes with my Master.

  He looked completely different from his appearance in class. The horn-rimmed glasses were gone. For the first time, I noticed that his eyes were one of those piercing blues that could stare right through you. He wore a much tighter shirt than he normally does that accentuated his powerful body. And as I stared up at him, I realized just how tall he actually was.

  He had a disappointed look on his face. “Why did you not answer when I knocked?”

  “I'm sorry, Professor--”

  His finger rested gently on my lips and slowly traced my face until it curled beneath my chin. Bending down, he raised my face up to face him. “I will not repeat myself. I am to be addressed as Master. And you are to address yourself as 'It', not 'I'. Understand?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  He sighed. “I had planned on teaching you here, but your insolence has persuaded me to do otherwise.”

  “What?”

  “Stand up and get in the car. You have five minutes.” He waved his phone in my face as he turned and walked away.

  I had no choice. Pushing myself back up on
trembling knees, I slowly made my way to his car. The scorching concrete pavement, baked by the hot June sun, burned the soft skins of my bare feet. Professor Wright opened the passenger door—a portal to both heaven and hell—and I got in.

  *****

  Chapter 2

  I looked over at Professor Wright nervously but he was focused on the road. His car was impeccably clean. I welcomed the air-conditioned leather seats. The slight scent of new car smell greeted my nostrils and I felt a little more relaxed.

  I could see a bulge in his pants and I smiled to myself. The apprehension dissipated somewhat and I started wondering how I could offer myself to him.

  “I have six rules, Slave.” His voice rumbled. “These rules are unbreakable. If you should violate a single one, I have you on speed dial.”

  I swallowed. Suddenly, I regretted putting my phone where it was.

  “Are you ready for the rules?”

  “I am.”

  “Open the glove compartment and read the paper inside.”

  With trembling hands, I opened the compartment and took out the sheet of paper. There were six lines of large bold letters.

  It shall never say I, it shall always refer to itself as it.

  It shall not speak unless spoken to

  It shall address the Master by his rightful title: Master or Sir

  It shall not come unless instructed do so

  It shall never say 'It doesn't know'

  It shall commit these rules to memory without errors

  I looked back at him, unsure of what to do next.

  “Master...” I started.

  Almost immediately, my phone vibrated and the words were caught in my throat.

  “Rule number two, Slave.” He said as he hung up.

  Panting, I whispered. “I'm sorr--” The vibrations started again.

  “Rule number one, Slave.” He didn't hang up this time and the phone continued to vibrate. My legs were buckling. The paper slipped from my hands as I shook. A moan bubbled from the depth of my throat and I fought hard to keep it inside.