Cindy: The Professor's Bane Ch. 01

God she was sexy, and yet he despised her. He couldn't help but nod once again. His eyes were fixated on her panties, straining to catch a glimpse of her girlish twat underneath. God he wanted to take her. He couldn't help but entertain the idea that perhaps this was her sick way of coming on to him.

"Yeah, I saw it on your videos." The tight t-shirt encasing her perky breasts came to rest on the arm of the couch. Her panties, and her tight ass were clearly visible now, dangling off the edge. Her head lay sideways on the couch arm as her bright, blue eyes looked at him.

So she had gotten into his videos. It was mortifying to think that this 19-year-old knew more about his conquests than he did. He was captivated by her display, and disgusted by his arousal. He felt out of control.

"Yes, you're naughty, aren't you? A naughty doggy!" she scolded him a little too loudly, making him nervous that someone on the other side of the door might hear.

Johnson nodded. His cock was stubbornly pushing against the underwear underneath his loose suit pants.

"Aw. I guess you really don't want to go to jail, huh? Now, tonight you're going to come over to my dorm room, aren't you? Are you going to come to my dorm tonight, little doggy?"

Johnson winced at her mocking patronization. He didn't know what to expect anymore. How far was she going to take this?

"Good," she nodded briskly, not bothering to wait for his answer. "I'll see you there at seven--Bowie Hall, room 345. Don't be late, now." Cindy got up and started to gather her things.

Was that it? What the hell she fucking doing here? What was the point of all this?

"Wait."

"Bad doggy, bad, bad!" Cindy shouted again, dropping everything and stepping toward him. He cringed, actually feeling distressed at what she might do and nervous that people outside the office might hear. She knelt down and grabbed his gray hair, pulling it so that his face was forced to look at her. Her other hand reached under him, recklessly seized his dick and squeezed. He might have doubled over if it hadn't been for her grip on his hair. She leaned down so her strawberry lips were only inches from his.

"What's the matter, doggy? You wanna fuck?" she squeezed his cock and balls. The promise of masculine pain, just on the edge of her grip frightened him. He fought against the instinct to reach underneath and slap her groping hand away.

"Damn, Professor." Her voice almost seemed as if she couldn't believe his obstinate boner, which felt to him like it was the size of a greenhouse cucumber. Fuck her! She didn't deserve to make him feel like this.

"God, you're so pathetic," she said with a charged whisper. She kneaded him like he was nothing more than her cock-slave. "Well, if you want to fuck, come on over tonight and we'll see if you deserve it. Don't be late."

- - - -

Dressed in the suit he wore previously, Johnson stepped out of his car in the dormitory parking lot. It was 7:02 pm, and he was late.

Sweat leaked from his forehead. His stomach was tight, and his breathing was laced with fearful butterflies. It was almost intoxicating. His hard on was beginning to return even as he walked through the dorm's lobby and made his way for the stairs. He was confused by her intentions, especially by the last thing she'd said in his office. Somehow it made him extremely nervous.

The din in the dorm was typical of a party school. Rock music thumped throughout the hall, various doors were open and students milled through the littered hallway carrying on like drunk kids who had their parents' house to themselves for the weekend. It was typical for a Friday night. The occasional student wandering by gave him a strange look. Luckily the hallway outside Cindy's room was relatively quiet and empty. He took in the filthy excess of his surroundings and shuddered at what she might have in store for him.

Johnson paused in front of room 345. He realized at that moment that his hands shivered. He simply didn't know what to expect from the tiny bitch. He had hated his subservience earlier, and yet she turned him on. He nervously straightened his suit, wiping off some lint, and finally he started to raise his hand to knock when the door suddenly opened.

Cindy held the door open, looking up at her college professor. Her hair was pulled back tightly into another pony tail. He immediately noticed the bright sheen of the taut blonde hair above her forehead. She wore a pair of very short, blue shorts that exposed her toned upper thighs all the way down her slender calves to her sneakers. Johnson noted with some dread the words embroidered across her breasts on her tight fitting, black T-shirt: "Boy Beater". Cindy took a lolly-pop out of her mouth and bounced up in a slight hop with a smile on her face.

"Professor!" She stretched her body upward and gave him a peck on the cheek, taking him by surprise. "You're a little late, Professor," she finally scolded with a smirk.

He was prepared to offer her money. "Cindy, now listen. I thought we might talk this over, and I think after you hear what I have to say--"

"Professor Johnson, I told you not to be late." Cindy was confoundedly cute, even as she scolded him. Johnson felt his hard on returning despite his best efforts to control himself. "Why don't you get on your hands and knees," Cindy smiled, holding her lolly-pop dismissively to the side.

"What, here?" Johnson said, looking around the empty hallway. He was starting to become panicked. "Now, Cindy--"

"Come on, Professor. I thought you'd made up your mind. Do it."

Johnson was trapped. He didn't dare leave. He looked around and saw no one. The thumping of rock music blared distantly through the halls. Humiliated and vulnerable, he followed her orders.

"Good doggy! Do you want my sucker?" she dangled her glistening lolly pop in front of his face.

Johnson was mortified, and worried that someone would see him like this. Still, somehow he wanted it. He shook his head no in defiance of his own instincts, but he wanted to taste her mouth on it.

"Fuck you, bitch." He said it to himself as much as to her. He needed to maintain some dignity.

"Just for that you'll have to beg for it. Can you beg for me little doggy?" Cindy mocked him by raising her hands up like they were a dog's front paws, reaching to its owner. "Come on, get up on your knees and beg."

"Cindy, please. Don't."

"I've got a phone right in here, Professor."

He rose to his knees and lifted his hands to his shoulders, his fingers bent. He felt like a pathetic animal.

"Oh, you're so cute," she fawned. "Why don't you unzip your pants for me."

He couldn't believe it. "No, Cindy. Please."

She shot him a disappointed look. "But I thought you wanted to play with me. I guess you don't though. Bummer." She stepped backwards and silently closed the door in front of him.

Johnson watched the door close and instantly understood his predicament as if for the first time. His heart pounded. He looked up and down the hall. Could he actually do this? She was going to call Tyrney. "Jesus." He didn't know what to do. The bitch was actually going to call him!

Still on his knees, he lightly knocked on the door like a helpless child. "Cindy," he whispered desperately. "Cindy, please."

The door opened a crack, and Cindy's peered out at him. "Did you take your dick out yet?"

Mortified, he slowly unzipped his pants. His cock was hard. He was utterly shame-ridden.

"Good." She opened the door the rest of the way and watched him. "Now jerk off," she whispered mercilessly. "Do you need a little help?" She reached for something behind the doorframe and grabbed what looked to be a photograph. "Here you go." She held it up to his face. It was a picture of him with a freckled, stick-legged red-head riding his cock.

"Now sit up on your knees and jerk off for me. Don't forget to pant."

Johnson nursed his dick, ignoring the picture and opting to stare at Cindy's slender body instead. God, it felt so good, and so horrible. Nervous sweat seeped from his forehead.

"Yay." She bounced silently as if immensely pleased with herself. "Good, keep jerking your cock, Professor, and pant like a horny dog before I scream and leave you out here alone."

"Shh, please, Cindy." He nervously checked the hallway. His hand massaged his dick while Cindy dismissively licked her sucker and watched him. Despite it all, he wanted to cum. His mind filled with thoughts of role reversal--of making this fucking cunt bark like a bitch while he porked her tiny, puckered anus. His fantasies were instinct, a defense mechanism. In a way, it was the only way his dignity could maintain a foothold.

"Fuck you," he whispered frantically, his eyes leering at her body as if he had no choice.

Her tongue lingered on her sucker as she smiled teasingly at his frustration.

"Okay, that's enough, doggy." Cindy's sneaker painfully kicked at his hand, jerking it away from his urgently unsatisfied rod. He expelled a breath, betraying his need, but resisted giving her the satisfaction of any complaint.

"Do you want it?" She dangled the cherry sucker in front of his face, holding it just out of reach. It was wet with the girl's spit. "Good boy! Come on," she motioned him inside by slapping her hand against her thigh, and then tossed the sucker on the carpet in her dorm room "Go get it!"

Anxious to get out of the hallway, Johnson quickly crawled in with his dick bobbing like a loose, steel appendage between his legs.

- - - -

Johnson looked at the red lolly pop sticking to the panty-littered carpet just below his head and wondered how things had come to this.

"Rule number one, when Professor Johnson is a bad boy, he'll get punished." Cindy's springy hair bounced as she glanced down at her shirt. "I'm a 'Boy Beater'," she bit her bottom lip in a bashful smile and stretched her shirt off her perky tits to show him the words, "See?" She giggled, and then allowed her tight shirt to bounce back home.

He felt sick to his stomach.

"Rule number two, Professor Johnson does whatever I say. Sit up, Professor." Cindy grabbed a pair of her dirty panties off the floor and slipped his wrists through the leg holes. "Twist your wrists so they're tight."

Johnson moved his arms so that the panties twisted tightly around his wrists, binding them in front of him. He wanted to protest, but it seemed harmless. He could just twist out of them again. At least they were in relative privacy now. Cindy pushed him forward so that he landed on his elbows, the lolly pop positioned below his face.

She pointed to the sucker. "Finish it doggy. No teeth--only your tongue. You need to practice."

He looked at it, disgusted. "Cindy, please."

"Rule number three, Professor Johnson doesn't get to cum until I say." She walked behind him and knelt between his legs--pinning down the pants that were stretched around his calves.

"You'll like this game, Professor." Cindy produced another photograph. This one was of Sarah Jennings. She was sitting on his couch with her bare legs spread wide, her tits peaking over the top of her disheveled blouse and her hands cuffed in front of her. She was holding a bar glass with a fatigued look of surrender on her face. He remembered that night. The strange thrill made him forget where he was for an instant. His cock stiffened even more.

"This is so you don't make a mess on my floor, Professor." She slipped the photograph on the floor under his cock. He then heard some kind of slurping sound behind him, and then felt her wrap her lubed fingers around him.

"Oohhh." He couldn't help it. The feeling of the teenager's hand on his dick was amazing.

"If you break any of the rules, Professor, you go to jail, and I'm pretty sure jail won't feel like this." Her hand started stroking up and down on the thick meat below his belly. "Now, I'm just going to rub your dick with my hand until you lick all the candy off of that lolly pop. Remember, no teeth, you naughty cheater."

Her hand felt so good. She would give him long strokes, and then she would squeeze the head, making it bob up and down as it reached out to meet her fingertips. Each time he came close to coming, she would stop. The panties binding his hands reminded him not to break the third rule by taking over the job himself. The lolly pop seemed to grow bigger before his eyes.

- - - -

Johnson's throat groaned in frustration as his fingers frantically clawed at the filthy carpet below him. He could smell Cindy's dried urine on the panties that were binding his hands together. His elbows were developing rug-burn. His mouth seemed full with strands of cherry flavored hair. He licked at the sucker desperately. His cock was a dangling bundle of desperate nerve-endings, gripped tightly in Cindy's slippery hand. God, it felt so good. If she would just. . . keep. . . going.

Cindy's hand released him.

"Fuck! Oh-oh-oh!" he shuddered. Johnson shifted his legs frantically, desperate for orgasm--his cum just barely on the precipice of squirting out of his cock--yet she would not allow him to release it. The insidious nature of her game had become clear.

"Lick your lolly, Professor."

After giving his imminent orgasm a chance to recede, she started yet again. Her hand slowly milked his cock like a cow's tit. Precum oozed out of its hole. Some of it served as lube for her stroking, the rest of it pooled in wet drops onto the photograph of Sarah below his crotch.

Johnson had lost all sense of how long this had been going on.

Cindy was a master cock-teaser--sometimes just faintly rubbing the very tip of his cock with her soft fingertips for minutes at a time--causing him to cry out with need and squirm in an attempt to get away from her. Johnson had become a quivering mess.

"Lick it, doggy. You need your practice."

He lapped his tongue across the lint covered cherry candy as fast as he could. Cindy offered him words of encouragement.

"Is that good, doggy? You wanna lick my pussy like that, Professor?"

He did, but only to tease her like she was doing to him. He wanted to fuck into her and squirt cum all over her cute face---using her lithe body as a cock-milker until he was satisfied and the spoiled slut was left handcuffed with no way to bring herself off.

The fucking bitch's hand still kept kneading and rubbing his helplessly teased prick.

Finally, the last of the candy was gone.

"Yay, Professor! Now one more thing." She slid the precum-covered photo below his head. "Lick your goopy juice off of her."

Her fucking fingers kept flicking and rubbing the tip of his cock. He wanted to scream.

"Ooooooohhh. Fuck." His body shuddered, teetering on the edge, and she stopped.

"Come on, lick off your nasty cock-slime, doggy." Her order was harsh, and plain. He was insane with the need to cum. His tongue slid along the photo, gathering his salty precum into his taste buds. He wished it was anyone other than Sarah in the photograph.

"Good boy! Now, Professor, you were an awfully naughty boy getting here late, and for that I'm afraid you'll need to be punished," said Cindy, regretfully.

Punished? What the fuck! "Let me cum!" he finally pleaded out of pure instinct. "Please, I want to cum." He started to sit up so he could untwist his hands free.

"Ohhh, poor baby. No, no, no." She pushed insistently down on him, keeping him on all fours. "You have to do something first."

- - - -

Her hand held his, and to him it felt like that of a spoiled child, yet this teenager was clearly more world-wise than her bubbly demeanor let on. Just feeling her youth through her hand as she led him like a four year old down the empty hall both intensified his attraction for her, and amplified the humiliation and frustration he was feeling. She opened the door to the communal women's bathroom and led him inside, locking the door behind her.

"Now Professor. I want you to shave. Not to worry, though, I bought you a razor and some shaving cream." She pulled them out of a grocery bag she carried from her room.

Johnson took the cream, wondering what punishment could be worse than what he had just been through. He started lathering up his face.

"No, no, no!" Cindy scolded, frowning.

Johnson was confused, "You said you wanted me to--"

"No, not your face, stupid. Wipe that off. Here," she handed him a towel.

He took the towel and wiped the shaving cream from his face.

"Now, take off your clothes."

"My clothes? No, I. . . ." The mystery of his punishment was starting to come into focus.

"Yes, your pants, your shirt and your underwear. Come on, Mister Johnson." Cindy was starting to get agitated, "I haven't got all night."

Not wanting to test her again, Johnson resigned himself to following her orders.

"Very nice," grinned Cindy, mocking his somewhat imperfect body covered in gray hair. "Now go sit in the bathtub, you burly stud you!"

Johnson maneuvered himself into the tub, ringed with hard water stains. "Cindy, please. Stop."

"Now spread your legs for me. Come on, spread your legs," Cindy placed her small but insistent hands on his knees and pulled his legs apart--causing him to lose his balance and plop, butt first, into the bottom of the tub. She made him lift his legs over the edge so that they were spread wide, revealing his still hard member. "Oooh, are you turned on, Professor?" Cindy cooed at him, mockingly. "Do you have a hard on for me?"

Johnson hated her.

Even as she asked the ridiculous question, his dick seemed to grow larger. His eyes fixated on her super-tight, "Boy Beater" T-shirt. He needed to cum. He wanted to skull fuck her until her throat juice seeped into the letters covering her tits.

"Oh, how cute! You do have a boner for me, don't you?" She looked at him like a child who'd just gotten her ice cream. "Wow." Her bright eyes gave him a naughty glare. "Well, if you're a good boy, maybe we'll take care of that later." She winked at him fearlessly. She seemed to have become even further empowered by his perpetual arousal around her. It was unsettling. Johnson wanted to leap out of his skin. His mind flooded with filthy images of revenge.

"But," Cindy handed the Professor the razor and shaving cream. "I want you to shave for me first."

Johnson reluctantly started squirting shaving cream over his pubic area. He still held out hope that this was all just some kind of sick game, maybe all she wanted was to fuck him on her own terms. It was a tantalizing thought, but he had to admit that it didn't make any sense. He still hadn't been able to think through what had prompted her to steal the keys out of his office in the first place.

"Why don't you do your legs too," Cindy smiled, turning on the water to the bathtub and handing him another towel.

"Christ," Johnson whispered, lathering up his hairy legs with shaving cream. His cursed dick was tight and stiff; he wanted to stuff her little pussy so badly he could smell it.

"Wow, you are a real horny-toad aren't you?" She sat on the toilet, opposite the bathtub, watching him run the razor up his hairy leg. He was mortified.

"Oh my God, you're so nasty, Professor." She bit her lip. He could see her getting excited, and her eyes were locked on him. Her hand almost absent-mindedly crept down to her shorts and unsnapped them. "Come on, shave yourself nice and smooth for me."

His heart beat like a freight train. He was so anxious and excited, he almost nicked his leg with the razor.

"God. Look at you." Her hand snaked into her shorts and under her white panties. He saw the knuckles of her fingers working deliberately under the material. Johnson felt like nothing more than a demented aid to masturbation for her. Still, her arousal was contagious, even if it was at the expense of his dignity.

"Come on, now. Shave your balls, doggy."