Let the Music Play Ch. 01

Lacy Stanton belted out the final note of her solo and slowly sashayed toward the choir stand behind her. The director had warned her before about showboating, but she was really just enjoying the music and the crowd who had gathered to watch the rehearsal in the university's music room. She loved swaying her wide black hips as her large 36DD breasts bounced seductively. She knew she was beautiful. Plenty of men at her college had told her she had full sensuous lips and bedroom eyes, and that they wanted to fuck her. But she wasn't interested in sex. She wanted to SING!

The choir launched into the next song that included dance moves Lacy didn't know. She hadn't learned them yet but her pride wouldn't allow her to squirm off to the side. Instead, she attempted to dance along. The crowd cheered, and she relished the attention. All her life, she'd wanted to be on stage and her dreams were finally coming true at the tender age of nineteen.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mr. Freeman, the choir director, shouted over the music.

"Performing!" she yelled back.

"Get off my stage!"

Lacy's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the public rebuke. Who did he think he was talking to her like that? Freakin' old man.

Okay, he wasn't that old. Mid-thirties, she'd guess. Towering above six feet with smooth dark skin, he was the fantasy of most of the women in the school. But he and Lacy had never gotten along.

Mr. Freeman signaled the choir to stop. "That's it for the day. Lacy, I'd like to see you in my office.

Yeah, right! Lacy stalked off in the opposite direction but before she could take three full steps, a hand gripped her arm so hard she cried out.

"I said I want to see you in my office," Mr. Freeman whispered in a menacing tone.

He steered her down the hallway as the other students stared in surprise. As Mr. Freeman stormed into his office, he pushed Lacy so hard she fell onto the black futon pushed against the wall. Her head plowed into the metal arm and her vision blurred. As she squeezed her eyes closed to clear her vision, she heard the door slam, the lock click, and the swishing sound of blinds being closed.

Before she could get her bearings, he snatched her up by her arm and tossed her onto her back, trapping one leg against the cold, hard metal as he dropped to his knees and covered her mouth with his hand. "You play too much. Anyone ever told you that?

Stunned, it took Lacy another few seconds for the full impact of her position to hit her. She began to struggle. Pushing at his chest with both arms, she screamed into his hand.

Mr. Freeman laughed. "No one can hear you. Besides, who would come to your rescue, you little bitch? No one likes you."

Tears began to leak out of the corners of Lacy's eyes. For the first time since she'd left home, she was really scared. Even when her mother's drunken boyfriends had stumbled into Lacy's room, she had never feared them, believing that her mother would protect her.

Until Mr. David...

"Did I hurt your feelings, little girl? Maybe if you were nice people would like you. You're a stuck-up, smartass bitch, and I'm sick of your attitude. And the worse part of it is you're no better than any of the other students. You're the product of a poor, single, teenage mother who probably whored herself the way you do."

Lacy froze, caught off guard by the accuracy of his statement—as least what he'd said about her mother. Lacy was far from a whore. But how did Mr. Freemen know about her mother? And did he know about Mr. David, the things he'd made her do?

"Surprised?" Mr. Freeman asked sarcastically. "Yeah, I did a little research."

Lacy began struggling again, her fear growing in spades. She'd never seen Mr. Freeman so angry, and didn't know what he would do.

She saw his eyes drop to her breasts. They were rising and falling hectically, nearly popping through her white top. None of her clothes were revealing but in this position, her breasts were pushed up enticingly.

Using his free hand, he flicked the first button free. "How many men have sucked these sweet things, I wonder," he murmured, his voice deepening with desire. The second and third buttons popped free with her struggle, revealing a pink bra that barely contained her breasts.

Mr. Freeman tugged her breasts free and drew one of the silky buds into his mouth. Lacy's tears flowed faster as she pleaded into his hand to stop. "Please stop," she cried, though the words were muffled.

His touch was electric, instantly flooding her body with heat.

He switched to the other breast, his touch gentle despite his harsh words. Her pussy tingled, grew heavy with need, and shame washed over her.

"You slut!" she could hear her mother screaming. "You want to play with fire? I'll let you get burned," she'd threatened when she'd found Mr. David in Lacy's room jerking off, as she'd stood frozen in fear. "You better do whatever David says. Please him and he won't hurt you. Too much."

With that, her mother had slammed out of Lacy's room, leaving her alone with Mr. David and his sadistic grin.

Mr. Freeman's fingers trailed across Lacy's flat belly to the edge of her blue jean miniskirt. She froze as her gaze flew to his. Oh, God. What was he going to do to her? Maybe if she didn't fight him, he would stop. He didn't like it when she was defiant, right?

Lacy forced her body to relax, and she watched for his reaction. At nineteen, she'd only been with two men and neither of them willingly.

Mr. Freeman smiled. "That's my girl. You like this, don't you?"

No! she screamed silently, afraid that if she spoke the word out loud, he'd become angry and determined to prove her wrong.

His fingers slipped beneath the edge of her panties and liquid warmth began to spread out from her lower belly. "You are so beautiful," he whispered. "I like how your body responds to me. Watch this." His fingers strummed her clit and her body automatically arched against his hand. "See? Your body likes this."

Lacy closed her eyes in confusion and shame. How could she like being touched by Mr. Freeman? She hated him. He pressed his thumb to her center and her legs fell open as much as her pinned position would allow. His laughter echoed in her ears and she cringed with embarrassment. He moved his finger against her clit in a circular motion as he slowly and deliberately pressed two fingers into her pussy. Her breath caught in her throat as she forced herself to lie perfectly still.

"You're wet, you little whore." Mr. Freeman rubbed his thumb over her lips, forcing her to smell and taste her own juices. The scent of sex filled her nostrils and she inhaled deeply, her body skyrocketing toward an orgasm.

Fresh tears spurted into Lacy's eyes as she lay on the sofa, her top open and her legs spread wide. Her body burned with desire but she refused to cum. He couldn't get away with this, could he? But how could she stop him?

"You fuckin' whore," he whispered in her ear. "You're a slut. You like being fucked, don't you? You want me to take you right now, you dirty little whore." He pushed his thumb into her mouth and she sucked greedily, unable to resist. I bet you'd suck my dick right now if I told you to, wouldn't you? You want to touch it, taste my cum in your mouth don't you?"

He pressed his thumb to her pulsing pussy again and she ground against him, trying to draw him into her. She felt the pressure building in her lower belly and moaned as she neared her release. Laughing, Mr. Freeman snatched his hand away, leaving her grinding the air. He turned away from her but not before she saw the bulge in his pants. "I'll see you tomorrow at practice," he told her, standing.

Her burgeoning orgasm died instantly and gripped by an almost painful need to cum, a deep guttural groan tore from her throat. Mortified, Lacy jumped up and ran out of the room. She didn't stop running until she reached her dorm room. Hot and sweaty, she grabbed her bath items and headed for a shower. Her eyes darted around the room as she practically ripped her clothes off. The room was empty. Flipping the left lever, she stepped beneath the spray and shivered as cold water met hot flesh.

How could she have done that? She was not a whore. Mr. David had made her do those bad things, telling her she was just like her mother. But she wasn't! So many men had come through their door until Lacy had stopped counting. She would hear them grunting like animals and had come to hate the sound.

None of them had tried to touch her, because she had been a late bloomer. Her breast hadn't filled a C cup until she was sixteen. It was during her senior year that her mother had brought Mr. David home. By Prom, she'd become so afraid of him that she'd told her boyfriend about what he was doing to her. Instead of helping her, he had threatened to tell everyone if she didn't do whatever he said.

Hating herself, she'd submitted to both men until she ran away the day after graduation.

And now she'd almost cum for Mr. Freeman.

Tears welled in Lacy's eyes again and she covered her face with her hands. Sliding down the wall, she crouched on the floor, her shoulders shaking with the force of her tears.

Lacy woke the next morning determined to skip practice. She wouldn't go back at all, except that the ensemble was a requirement. They were preparing for a big competition at a rival college in three weeks but she couldn't face Mr. Freeman or the other choir members.

She avoided common areas; afraid she'd run into him. When she entered her English class, a couple of the choir members whispered something to each other and snickered. Embarrassed, Lacy scampered to a chair on the other side of the classroom. Why were they laughing? Did they know what had happened between her and Mr. Freeman? Were they calling her a slut, too?

Lacy looked up and saw Emily, a senior who sang alto. Lacy didn't really know her, but the rumor was she was a dyke. Lacy smiled as Emily approached. "Hi, Lacy. Changing seats?" she asked with a wry glance at the other girls. "Ignore them. They're what I call mean girls."

Lacy didn't respond, too ashamed. Truth was she'd had a part in spreading the rumor about Emily, too.

Emily sat next to her. "You okay?"

Lacy tucked her hair behind her ear. "Yeah. I...the sun's bright over there...hurting my eyes."

The professor began the day's lecture but Lacy couldn't concentrate and as soon as he finished, she hurried out of the classroom. She just wanted to get back to her dorm room and hide under the covers.

"Hey, Lacy!" Emily called.

Lacy started to ignore her but finally stopped and turned.

Emily jogged up to her. "Girl, you were moving fast. Aren't you going to practice?"

"No, I'm not feeling well. I thought I'd lay down a while."

Emily glanced around them before leaning forward. "Listen, don't let that little spat between you and Mr. Freeman interfere with your education. You two have scuffled before. I'm sure he's forgotten it."

Emily squeezed her arm reassuringly before leaving.

Lacy slowly made her way across campus, lost in thought. Yes, she and Mr. Freeman had had their disagreements, but he'd never touched her before. Still, she couldn't quit the ensemble, or college. If she left school, she'd have no choice but to crawl back to her mother who had already told her it would be best if she not return. Her latest lover wasn't into raising another man's kid, she'd told Lacy.

Realizing she had no other choice, Lacy glanced at her watch before hurrying toward the choir room. Once there, she paused outside the room to gather her courage. Would Mr. Freeman humiliate her in front of the choir again? She didn't know the dance moves because she'd skipped the two-day choir workshop last week due to limited finances, though she'd never admit that out loud. She'd flippantly told those who asked that she had already made other plans.

Lacy took a deep breath and opened the door. They were warming up but stopped when she entered the room. Mr. Freeman didn't even look at her. "You're late."

"I—I'm sorry, Mr. Freeman. I was on the other side of campus." Lacy noticed the various reactions of the choir members, from wide-eyed stares to suppressed grins. The two girls from class gave each other knowing looks.

"Do you have something to say to your fellow choir members?"

Lacy's cheeks flared with heat as her eyes lowered in anger and embarrassment. Why was he doing this to her? "I apologize for being late."

He turned to her, his gaze narrowed. "Anything else?"

She could tell by the firm set of his mouth that he hadn't forgotten anything that happened yesterday. "I'm sorry for my behavior yesterday. I promise it won't happen again."

"Thank you, Ms. Stanton. Please wait for me in my office."

"But—" Lacy broke off, her heart pounding in her chest so hard it hurt. Was he going to touch her again? Afraid a second confrontation in front of the choir would make matters worse she slipped out of the room without another word.

Lacy ran toward the exit and was almost out of the building before she collapsed against the wall, unable to catch her breath. She couldn't go into office but if she didn't go in there, what would he do to her tomorrow?

"Defiant to the end, huh?"

Lacy struggled to catch her breath as she straightened to face Mr. Freeman. She didn't speak as he spun on his heel and headed toward his office. Lacy reluctantly followed him, too afraid to risk further punishment. She stopped inside the door and watched him cross to his desk and began to move objects aside.

"Lock the door."

Lacy's heart dropped to her stomach as she closed the door and turned the lock.

"For the last six months, you've defied and disrespected me at every turn."

His was voice was low, calm, making her desperate pleas sound even more so. "I wasn't late on purpose, Mr. Freeman. I swear."

"Sure you were. You love being the center of attention and all eyes were on you when you entered the room. I told you to wait for me in my office and you disobeyed me. Take off your skirt and panties and bend over the desk."

Lacy jerked back, hitting the door. "W-What?"

"If I have to say it again, I won't be happy."

Lacy swallowed hard, desperate now. What was he going to do to her? "Please, Mr. Freeman. I promise—"

Mr. Freeman unbuckled his belt. "You name the number of lashes. Too low and I double it."

He turned toward her and she quickly lowered her eyes to the floor, afraid to meet his gaze. Walking over to the desk, she eased her skirt and panties down her legs until they were low enough for her to step out. Even though her eyes were cast down, she could feel Mr. Freeman's stare sear her private area. She kept her hair neatly trimmed, even though she knew going bald was popular these days.

Tears burned Lacy's eyes but she refused to let them fall. "Fifteen," she said, praying it was enough.

He didn't respond, and she bent over the desk. The cold metal edge dug into her thighs as her breasts flattened against the cool top. Her nipples tightened immediately on contact, and she closed her eyes at the sensual sensation.

She didn't understand why Mr. Freeman was doing this to her. What had she done to deserve this?

The first strike jolted her, and she clenched her body in pain. By the third smack, she was silently crying into her hands, too afraid to cry out in case Mr. Freeman would punish her like Mr. David had. Mr. David had enjoyed hurting her and making her cry.

With each forced grind of her pelvis onto the desk, Lacy felt warm liquid pool and spread across her thighs. She could smell her sex and the scent was like an aphrodisiac. Her body quivered with the need to cum.

Suddenly, she realized that Mr. Freeman had stopped. Exhausted, and too afraid to move, she lay there as she heard him move around the desk and rummage through a drawer. He moved back to his position behind her and she braced herself for another slap of the belt. Instead, she felt a stream of cool liquid on her skin and then his fingers as he began massaging.

Leaning over her, he used his free hand to brush her hair off her wet face. "Shhh...it's over now," he whispered.

Her mind swirled with confusion. How could he hurt her, and then touch her with such gentleness?

A tear slid out of her eye and across her nose, and he wiped it away with his finger. "I wouldn't have to do this if you would just do what I say. You know that, don't you? I don't want to punish you, Lacy, but you give me no choice when you defy me in front of my students."

He brushed his fingers through her hair as his warm breath whispered across her temple. His right hand traced the curve of her derriere until the ache between her thighs was about to consume her.

"Open for me."

She felt his fingers trail the length of her ass and parted her legs obediently. He brushed his fingers through the curly triangle covering her apex and her hips flexed spontaneously.

"Yeah, you like this don't you? He pressed her body into her own juices and she didn't resist. The liquid had spread to her breasts, soaking them as well. "So wet you little whore, but that's okay because you're my whore. Do you have something to say to me?"

"I know I deserve to be punished, Mr. Freeman. I—I won't defy you anymore."

"I'm not so sure I can believe that. Perhaps you need daily punishments until I'm sure you've learned your lesson. Make sure you wear something sexy for me. I like short skirts on you."

The thought of going through this daily humiliation caused her pussy to clench. Her body was so desperate for release she couldn't think straight. Mr. Freeman moved away from her, and Lacy quickly slid onto her knees.

Folding her hands in her lap, she waited for his next instruction, the way Mr. David had taught her.

Her professor left without another word, closing the door behind him.

Confused but relieved, Lacy gathered her clothes, dressed quickly, and hurried out of the office.

That night, Lacy lay on the twin bed in her dorm room. Her roommate had a boyfriend who lived off campus, and she spent most nights with him, leaving the small room to Lacy. She heard a knock on the door but was in too much pain to get up. "Come in."

Emily entered the room wearing and a short, tight black mini-skirt and a tight white tank top with the logo of a local café spread across her small breasts. "Hey, girl. I didn't see you around campus. Everything okay?"

"Just tired. How was work?"

"Lousy." Emily sat down in the chair across from the bed, her legs slightly parted.

From her position on the bed, Lacy could clearly see a snatch of Emily's bald pussy. Embarrassed, Lacy looked away. Emily was such a whore.

"Mr. Freeman is really giving you a hard time. You need to learn those steps. Want to practice?"

Lacy groaned knowing she had no choice. "Sure."

They had an evening practice the next day, and Lacy performed perfectly. She knew every dance step, thanks to Emily. Her pitch had been perfect, and she didn't do anything to draw attention to herself. Still, as she stood outside Mr. Freeman's office wearing a short navy blue skirt, her body was trembling with fear.

"Good girl," Mr. Freeman whispered, coming up behind Lacy. He opened the door and motioned for Lacy to enter his office. "Remove your panties and raise your skirt."

Lacy's heart sank. She had hoped by doing everything he said, he would not punish her. Her ass was still sore from yesterday.

Lacy obeyed without a word.

"You learn quickly. I like that. Keep your skirt raised and have a seat."

Lacy noticed for the first time that a table with a TV had been placed in front of the futon. A large mirror was propped at an angle facing the futon and a black nine-inch dildo sat on the side table.

Tears began to build in her eyes as she imagined what he planned to do but she didn't utter a word as he helped spread her legs wide so that the mirror revealed her gaping pussy.