“You know what that was for, don’t you?” he asked quietly but sternly, the first words he had spoken. I shook my head. He paused, then slapped my butt once on each cheek again, hard. My body jerked involuntarily against his, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out.
“Those two were for not answering me out loud,” he explained, quietly rubbing my my butt again. His touch felt good, and I could feel my body responding to the way he was caressing me. Despite my sore bottom, my nipples were already hard, and I was wetter after the spanking than before. “Now,” he said, “do you know what the first six were for?”
“N-no Sir,” I said.
“You didn’t follow my directions on the door,” he said. He patted my bottom lightly, then pulled my panties up and flipped my skirt back down. “Up,” he said, sounding a little more cheerful than I liked. I got to my feet with a little help from him, and stood there with weak knees while he walked away, then came back.
“We’re going out,” he announced.
The car ride was a little awkward, I felt, but he didn’t seem to notice. Of course, I couldn’t see him because I was still blindfolded. He had led me out to the car, still handcuffed, opened my door, helped me sit down, and buckled my seatbelt for me. Then he came around and got in, and we drove.
I was scared at first that someone from the university would see us, but I realized after several minutes that we were going someplace far enough away that no one would know who we were. During the ride, I felt his hand on my knee, then on my thigh, and I spread my legs a little to allow his fingers to continue their journey north. I got more and more turned on as I felt his hand slide slowly higher, but just as I thought he would touch my clit, he took his hand away, and we made two right turns and stopped.
He got out of the car first, obviously, and then he opened my door and unhooked my seatbelt, helping me stand up. He stood very close to me and put his mouth next to my ear. Quietly, he explained that just because we were in public and other people could see us didn’t mean that I could act like I didn’t belong to him.
“Do you understand me?” he asked.
“Yes Sir, I understand,” I said. I was anxious to see where we were.
He turned me around and unlocked the handcuffs, gently rubbing my wrists where they were chaffed. Then he turned me to face him again and pressed his lips against mine, kissing me hard, as if to demonstrate that he was in charge. I automatically put my arms around him and kissed him back, which I think surprised him, but he allowed my tongue to explore his mouth for a few seconds before he pulled away. Then he reached behind my head with one hand and tugged on the bow of the scarf, letting it fall away from my eyes. His face was the first thing I looked at, and there were traces of a smile there.
As curious as I was to see where we had ended up, I had a hard time looking away from Professor Zimmerman’s body. He wore black shoes, black slacks, a black belt, and a black button-down shirt tucked in with the first button undone. He looked stylish, sexy, and serious all at once, and I was eagerly anticipating seeing him without his clothes. All the black really made his green eyes stand out, and I was startled at how intense he looked. Just knowing that I had to obey his every command made me both apprehensive and horny.
He offered me his arm, and I took it as we walked from the parking lot. I finally noticed that we were at a nice-looking restaurant. He had a reservation, so we were seated immediately. We sat facing each other in a small booth near the corner of the restaurant, which was very busy since it was Friday night.
“What city are we in?” I asked, knowing that it couldn’t be the same town as the university.
“Speak when spoken to,” he said curtly.
I blushed and studied my menu. Our waiter came and took our drink orders and then left again. Soon after as he walked away, Professor Zimmerman pointed to a place on the table and said casually, “I want your panties right here in the next three minutes.” Then he went back to looking at his menu.
My eyes widened. Was he serious? One look at his straight face as he read the menu was enough to tell me he was. I glanced around the restaurant to see if anyone was looking, then tentatively began to raise my skirt up my thighs. When I was absolutely sure no one’s eyes were pointed in our direction, I hooked my fingers around my panties and quickly pulled them down to my knees. Just then, our waiter returned with the drinks.
I was mortified! But I thought maybe he didn’t notice, as my legs were mostly hidden beneath the table. I calmly accepted my drink and smiled charmingly at the waiter, who looked about my age. Just when I thought I was in the clear, Professor Zimmerman “accidentally” dropped his napkin on the floor. Of course the waiter bent down to get it... and came face to face with my panties wrapped around my knees. I could have died.
The waiter straightened slowly, staring at me. I could feel my face turning bright red as he placed the cloth napkin back on the table. I bit my lip and looked away from him, too embarrassed to try to come up with an excuse. After a full minute, Professor Zimmerman dismissed the waiter with a polite thank you.
As soon as the waiter was gone, he gestured for me to continue. I took a deep breath and pushed my panties the rest of the way down and slipped one foot out, catching them around the other ankle. I used my hand to get them from my ankle and proceeded to fold the black silk as small as I could make it before placing it on the table where Professor Zimmerman had indicated. He nodded. “Are you sitting on your skirt?” he asked.
“Don’t,” he said. “From now on, every time we go somewhere, I want your bare ass touching the seat. Understand?”
I swallowed. “Yes Sir,” I said. I reached behind me and pulled the back of my skirt out from under my bottom, spreading the pleats to either side and in front as I settled myself, my hairless pussy now making full contact with the cold vinyl seat of the booth. I silently gave thanks that I had decided on a pleated skirt rather than a fitted one.
Once situated, Professor Zimmerman asked me what I was going to have. I opened my mouth to tell him, but just as I did, I felt a... buzzing. A subtle vibration coming from my ass. It was nothing earth-shaking, but it was definitely noticeable, and I finally understood what the little balls on the J-shaped object were for. I didn’t complain, because it felt kind of pleasant. My whole lower half began to warm up.
I looked for a smile from the man sitting across from me, but his face was as serious as ever while he waited for my answer. I squirmed a little and told him what I wanted. He nodded, and then the vibration stopped. I was almost disappointed, but just as I was getting used to it not being there, the buzzing started again, only this time it was in my pussy, and the vibrations were stronger. I gasped out loud, but Professor Zimmerman didn’t seem to notice.
The vibrations in my pussy suddenly died down to a lower level, and they were joined by low-level vibrations in my butt. I squirmed in my seat a little more and discovered that my cunt was leaking profusely. A couple of minutes of this was all I could stand. It wasn’t enough to make me cum - all it did was make me hornier! I began to subtly gyrate my hips in the seat, grinding my pussy against the vinyl.
“Don’t fidget,” Professor Zimmerman said. The corners of his mouth had started to turn up slightly. I tried to make myself stay still, but it was torture. Then I saw our waiter approaching again. He saw too, and the vibrations mercifully ceased.
The waiter asked for our order. Professor Zimmerman nodded at me to begin, so I said, “I think I’ll have the- AHH...ohmygodohmygodmmmm...uh..mmm.” I began to thrust my hips uncontrollably against the seat as the vibrations in my pussy and ass came back full-force and the waiter stared at me, amazed. I bit my lip hard as I orgasmed, trying desperately not to make a scene, and blushing like crazy.
Professor Zimmerman smiled finally, and ordered for me as I writhed in the seat. The young waiter asked him to repeat the order several times, because I was creating such a distraction, which he did without complaint. The vibrations didn’t stop until after our waiter had walked away.
“You... you...” I panted accusingly.
“Shhh,” he said. “That was quite a performance.” He almost grinned at me, but not quite. He held up a small black remote. “Remember that I have this.”
“Yes Sir.” I pouted.
The rest of our time at the restaurant wasn’t that eventful. The food was good, and the service was good, although our waiter stared at me every time he refilled our drinks. Professor Zimmerman even opened up a little bit, asking me questions about my family and my hobbies. I was starting to get really comfortable with him, and it was almost like a date, until it was time to go. After paying the bill, he took my panties, which had been lying discreetly folded at the corner of the table, unfolded them, spread them out in the middle of the table, and placed our waiter’s tip right on top.
“Let’s go,” he said, and stood up. I was too shocked to argue. I didn’t want to still be sitting there when the waiter came to collect his tip. I stood up hurriedly and took a few steps away from the table before I realized that my skirt was still bunched up in the back and my ass was on display to anyone who cared to look. I quickly adjusted my clothes and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. No one except our waiter, who was gaping at me from a few feet away. My cheeks colored, and Professor Zimmerman patted my butt. I thought I saw him wink at the waiter.
Although I was no longer handcuffed, Professor Zimmerman still opened the car door for me. I seated myself comfortably, and he came around and got in the driver’s side. But he didn’t start the car. I looked at him questioningly, but he just stared straight ahead. Finally, he said, “I’m waiting.”
Oh no, I thought, I’m doing something wrong... but what was it? Suddenly it dawned on me, and I blushed as I pulled my skirt out from under me again and sat bare-assed on the leather seat. Then he started the car and we pulled out of the parking lot.
After a while, Professor Zimmerman spoke. “Tell me something, Jenny,” he said. “Do you masturbate?”
My eyes widened and several different answers popped into my head. I considered lying to him, but I figured somehow he would know. “Yes Sir,” I said shyly.
He nodded. “How often?” he asked. I saw him reach into his pocket, and suddenly I felt the low buzzing in both metal balls again.
I swallowed hard and tried to remain still. “I do it... a lot, Sir,” I admitted. “When my roommate isn’t around.”
“Did you do it today?”
I shook my head slowly. “No Sir.” I squeezed my legs together and hoped he wouldn’t notice.
“Lift your skirt,” he said. I glanced out the window at the other cars on the road. It was already dark outside, so I hoped no one could see in. I took the hem of my skirt in my hands and slid it up my thighs, until it was less like a skirt and more like a ring around my waist. My entire lower half was exposed, although I was still wearing my shoes.
“Put your right foot on the dash,” he commanded. I lifted my right foot and settled it on the dashboard, near to the door. This effectively spread my pussy lips, and I blushed, even though he had seen me spread out before. “Now play with your clit,” he said. “Show me how you make yourself cum.”
I obediently reached down between my legs. Normally I would have protested - I had never done this with an audience - but the gentle buzzing was already sending tingling pleasure like sound waves through my entire body, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself in a few minutes anyway. Plus the thought of being naughty with a grown man watching me was turning me on even more.
The first touch of a fingertip against my clit was like an electric shock. I closed my eyes. Running a finger along my slit, I gathered some girl juice and spread it across the little bud, slowly rubbing it back and forth and then around in circles. I began to moan quietly, and reached beneath my shirt with my other hand to play with my tits.
After just a couple of minutes of slow teasing, I couldn’t take it anymore and my hand at my pussy began to speed up. My fingers flicked quickly across my clit, sliding over it and then back while I pinched my nipples. All of a sudden, the vibrations from the metal J sped up, and I bit my lip as I felt the tension in my pussy building to what I knew would be a mind-blowing orgasm.
My breath quickened and became more shallow. My muscles clamped down tightly on the vibrating object, and I rubbed even harder at the sensitive button. But right as I got to the edge, when one tiny movement would have triggered the orgasm I so desperately needed, the buzzing stopped completely, and I felt Professor Zimmerman snatch my hand away from my cunt. I gasped out loud, and my hips automatically humped at the air, searching for a final stimulation.
“Nonono wait!” I begged. “I’m almost... I’m... I’m...”
He continued to hold my wrist tightly, and a few seconds later my body slowly began to calm itself down. My breathing gradually became normal, but my mouth gaped open as I stared at Professor Zimmerman, whom I now hated.
“I was... I was about to...” I stuttered.
“I know,” he said. “That’s why I stopped you.” I glared at him, half in contempt, and half in disbelief. “You came at the restaurant,” he went on. “Don’t you think it’s my turn next?”
He looked at me, and I suddenly felt very selfish. “Yes Sir,” I agreed quietly. I hadn’t really thought about it until just then, but Professor Zimmerman hadn’t yet had any type of sexual stimulation at all. I looked down at the front of his pants and blushed as I noticed that he did need some attention down there. The blush deepened as I wondered what exactly he wanted me to do to help him.
Another minute or so put us back in town. Within five, we were at his house. I started to get out of the car, but he stopped me.
“Take off your shirt,” he said. We were in the car, in his driveway, in the middle of a neighborhood. I looked out the window at the street. There was no one around, so I pulled my shirt off over my head. Did he want to have sex in the car? “Now your skirt,” he added. There really was no point in taking the skirt off, since it was only bunched around my waist, but I did as he said. He took the outfit from me and folded it neatly. Then, he opened the door and got out. Before shutting the door again, he leaned down and said, “See you inside in five minutes.” He walked to the house and went in, carrying my clothes with him.
I sat in the car in shock. I was completely naked, and the front door was several feet away from the car. I looked around again, making sure no one was out walking. I couldn’t believe he was making me do this. Seeing that the coast was already clear, and I only had five minutes to get inside, I went ahead and jumped out of the car and ran to the door. I tried the knob, but to my horror, it was locked. The sticky note that instructed me not to ring the doorbell was gone, so I rang it. No one answered. Headlights spotlighted me as a car drove by, and I started to panic. I knocked loudly and cried out, “HELLO?”
“It hasn’t been five minutes,” he called calmly from just inside the door.
My mouth dropped open as I stared incredulously at the peephole. Just then, the same car drove by again, going the other direction very slowly. “Oh my gosh, please let me in Sir!” Nothing. “Please!”
After what seemed like ages, Professor Zimmerman finally opened the door. I burst inside, still trying to cover myself with my hands. The man was grinning from ear to ear, and even though I was embarrassed, I had to admit that he was really hot. I was blushing furiously. I immediately headed for the chair still sitting in the middle of the room, where he had spanked me earlier. My clothes were piled in the seat.
“Wait,” he commanded. “I’m not done with you yet.” I stopped in my tracks. Keeping my eyes on the floor, I turned around slowly to face him. “Get on your knees,” he said. I dropped silently to my knees in front of my teacher, remembering the image from my fantasy during class. Knowing that I was about to be performing oral sex on him, I tentatively reached up to his belt, brushing my hand lightly across the bulge in the front of his pants. When I started to unbuckle it, he said, “Stop.” I snatched my hand back as if I had burned my fingers. Oh no, I had done something wrong again. He chuckled. “You need to ask first,” he said.
I swallowed nervously. “May I... may I please unbuckle your belt, Sir?” I quietly asked him.
He paused for a moment to think, then finally said, “Yes.”
I did, and then I reached for the button on his pants. Hesitating, I asked, “May I please unbutton your pants, Sir?”
“Yes,” he said, and I did.
Reaching for the zipper, I asked, “Sir, may I please unzip them?” He consented, and I tugged the zipper down. His shirt was tucked in, so he pulled it out and undid the buttons, sliding the black material back and off his tan shoulders, and dropped the shirt to the floor. I paused to admire his firm upper body and flat stomach. He was so sexy it took me a while to realize that he was actually waiting for me to continue. I cleared my throat and asked, “May I please pull your pants down, Sir?” I felt silly asking, but at the same time it seemed very erotic.
“Yes,” he said.
I slid his slacks down past his knees, and they dropped to form a puddle around his ankles. He was wearing black silk boxers, and I could clearly see the outline of his penis straining against the fabric. “Sir, may I pull your boxers down please?” Again, he consented, and my pulse quickened as I pulled the waistband away from his body and gently lowered the boxers, sliding them down his thighs and letting them whisper into place at his ankles. And then, there it was.
I don’t know what I was expecting. I suppose I thought that since the couple of boys I had been with in high school had been about five inches long at the most, I was going to be facing the same thing here. I obviously didn’t have a ruler with me, but I would estimate that Professor Zimmerman topped them by at least two and a half inches. My first thought was, how in the world will that thing fit in my mouth?
I didn’t wait to think about it. I immediately reached for it with my hand. Before I touched it though, he slapped my hand away. “Ask,” he said.
I hesitated. “Sir...may I please... touch you?”
“Touch me where?” he asked.
“There.” I pointed.
I blushed. “Sir, may I please touch your... your...” He looked down at me, amused. “Your umm. You know.” The fact was that I knew a few different words for the body part in question, but I wasn’t sure which one to use while talking to a person who actually had one.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked. He grasped it around the base and waved it slowly in front of my face.
“Yes Sir.” My blush deepened, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at his face. “It’s just... what do you want me to call it?”
“What do you call it when you’re with your friends?”
I thought. “We usually call it a... dick.”
“Anything else?” he asked.
“I have one friend who says umm... pecker.”
“But never cock or prick?”
“No Sir. Those sound kind of... dirty.” I bit my lip.
“If you had to say cock or prick, which would you choose?” he asked.
I considered. Prick didn’t sound as bad as cock. “Prick,” I said.
He nodded. “From now on, any time you are talking about it, I want you to say cock,” he said. “Do you understand?”