Office Hours Ch. 05

This is about the halfway point in the tale of Dr. Michaels and Jason. Let me know in the comments if you like it so far and want more!

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Dr. Michaels had two cans of coffee for breakfast and drove into work simultaneously exhausted and jittery. She had a cigarette walking to class, but that just made her feel even worse. By the time she stood before her morning class, Michaels wanted to both vomit and sleep for a year. In the end, she had given up and put on a YouTube video about grammar for the last twenty minutes of class while she cradled her head in her in hands in hoped no one noticed that she was dozing.

It was a bad morning.

It didn't help that the day was sunny and cloudless. Almost hot. It was downright obscene, especially for November. Michaels hated cloudless skies. That blank, blue slate of infinity felt oppressive and hollow, like a celestial canvas nature had forgotten to paint in. She longed for the cold, dark clouds that gave the whole world a constant energy, the freezing winds that made company necessary.

Michaels felt scooped out and weak, like she was made of eggshell and simply walking too fast or thinking too hard would crack her. Part of it was definitely Jason withdrawals, she knew. It seemed like every few seconds she was wracked with a pang of guilt. Beating on him for having a female friend? Biting him! What was that, just what the hell was that? Human bites were filthy, and such a wound could very easily become infected. What would happen if Jason had to see a doctor? "Sadist Teacher" was not an explanation that she or the authorities would find agreeable.

Dr. Michaels did better in her second class of the morning. A debate among the students sprang up around sexism in the novels of the Bronte sisters, which Michaels had a good time moderating. So good, in fact, that she found herself still chatting with a pair of enthusiastic girls after class long enough to earn a sour look from the professor waiting in the doorway to use the classroom after her. The girls laughed about it, and shadowed Michaels for awhile across campus, still eager to probe her for literary factoids. At one point Michaels made an embarrassingly stupid joke ("Jane Eyre? I just met Eyre!") and the girls cackled their heads off, one of them clutching Michaels' arm and nuzzling at her shoulder as she gasped for breath.

Dr. Michaels rolled her eyes and sent the goofy bimbos on their way soon after that. Such silly children! Fresh from leaving home, not nearly on their feet as they think they are, and so desperate for a mother figure they can pretend is always there to hold their hand.

...poor Jason...

Dr. Michaels shook her head to dislodge the pet from that train of thought, and yet...

...I love you, Ma'am...

...the stupid child kept creeping in.

Michales shook her head harder.

It was obvious she needed to spend time with people her own age. Even if that meant Ted and the gang of half perv, half dweebs that occupied the better part of a table this time of day in the cafeteria. They weren't so bad, really—at least they were smart. Well, mostly. In certain ways. They knew academia, sure, but more than half of them had never really worked a day in their life. Too many had gone from high school top 10%, to pampered undergrads, to coddled graduates...and finally right to professors. No stops in actual reality in between. Do not pass Go, do not collect any real life experience.

Yet such were now Michaels' peers, and she just had to learn to adapt. It was the adult thing to do. If she had to throw herself on a sword of banality to earn a bit of maturity, then so be it. Suffering banal company from time to time was also an adult thing, she had come to learn.

So Dr. Micaels slipped into the teeming cafeteria, wriggling past to a pair a smartphone-ing goths to reach the plates for the salad bar while still managing to bludgeon a tiny Aian girl with her shoulder bag. After slowly building an acceptable salad (marred only by the inclusion of yellow bell peppers, which were far too sweet), Michaels shouldered her way through the crowd towards the faculty's usual corner table...

...only to find it occupied by a dozen ponytailed members of the women's soccer team.

Dr. Michaels' paused, cradling her salad, peering about for a familiar adult face. Yet she found herself alone in a sea of children. And of course, adding insult to insult, Michaels spotted Jason at a far table sharing an enormous plate of cheese fries with Lindsay, Azalea, and couple of other nobody losers. The pet's back was to her, but Lindsay noticed Michaels, her eyes lighting up and her hand offering a small, but energetic wave. After a few moments, Lindsay began to beckon Michaels over, first with one hand, then both.

Dr. Michaels pretended not to see her, her cheeks suddenly flushing with frustration and rage. She wandered over to take a seat at a long counter lining the windows and choked down her salad, regretful at every bite of the fries she would be eating if she had known the adults wouldn't be watching.

Jason came to visit during during office hours, and though Dr. Michaels' mood and energy got an immediate boost from having him near, she still felt a bit too out of sorts to play with him much. She sat him on her lap and tongued his throat for a bit, then had him brush her hair again for a time. But before long Jason simply sat at her feet, resting his head on Michaels' lap while she read essays with one hand and idly petted his shaggy hair with the other. Eventually, though, the boy's hot breath puffing on her crotch set Michaels' blood alight and she had him eat her out under the desk until she came. It had become such an easy trick for him to perform! No teenager had any right to be so good at eating pussy. Yet he was, and so Michaels gave the pet a few gracious pats on his wet cheek, packed her bag, and left him on his knees, wiping his face with her handkerchief as she set off for home.

After stopping by a Sonic for a not-so-spicy chicken burger and soda (the crumbled remnants tossed into the back seat of her car), Michaels plunked onto the couch in her drafty apartment, turned on the TV, and read the grueling introductory pages of the Scarlet Letter, hoping to bore herself into a proper nap. Once that scheme failed, she rolled onto her side and watched three back-to-back episodes of the Big Bang Theory without so much as once cracking a smile.

Finally Dr. Michaels gave in and left a trail of work clothes from the couch to bathroom as she stripped and began to groom. Ten minutes later Michaels' bare foot slammed down three times against the living room floor, and she stood near the door, smoothing her lavender robe over her thighs and wondering if she had gone a bit overboard with the Lemon Rose.

The knock came forty two seconds after stomping. The pet was slowing down.

But Michaels didn't punish him for it. Overall, she was in the mood for a quiet, calm evening. Once the pet had stripped, she yanked him to her and gave him a hard makeout in the middle of the living room, her hands gripping either side of his head while his fingers flowed up and down her back and sides, occasionally dancing softly over her ass. The frenzy of their lips nearly pushed Michaels' glasses off her face, and she shoved Jason's head down to suckle at her breasts while she readjusted the glasses, bringing the boy's desperate, devoted features back into clarity.

Michaels soon shoved Jason towards the couch, nipping his ears and smacking his hard ass. Before sitting down herself, she sank to her knees and inspected the bite on the boy's hip. The teeth marks were almost black, and the surrounding flesh was a grotesque rainbow of blue, purple, and yellow.

"It's fine, Ma'am," Jason cooed, stroking the side of her head.. "I have some ointment. It barely hurts anymore."

Michaels nodded. Good, she thought, but it was a distant thought. The worry and guilt over what she had done was only a tiny ember in the very back of her mind. Here, now, she once again felt proud. Michaels hoped Jason was lying, hoped the bite did still hurt. Badly.

That's right, Lindsay, she thought.

Michaels leaned forward and gently kissed the bite right at the bruised center.

Mine!

Dr. Michaels then plunked down on the edge of the couch, opened her robe, and amused herself for a long while whipping Jason's backside with the belt while he ate her for the second time that day. As the pleasure from his tongue and lips increased, so did the intensity of her flogging, until Michaels had a screaming orgasm at the sight of the boy leaking tears over the pussy he was pleasuring. Far from finished, Michaels then cinched the belt around Jason's neck and spent almost half an hour pulling on the leather strap, forcing the boy's panting face into her soaked pussy over and over with harsh tugs, lightly choking him with a tweak of her wrist. Though she didn't quite come, Michaels came very close at the sight of of Jason's eyes peering up at her over the fringe of her pubes as as his mouth latched desperately over her cunt, his eager little tongue swirling and flicking her clit like it was made for the purpose.

Next came a long, warm, oily massage. They chatted for a long time while the pet's amazing hands worked Michaels' muscles. Michaels gave a condensed rundown of exactly what she expected from a pending paper, and assured Jason that she would work out the whole mess of his linguistics credit not meeting the prerequisites for next semester's classes. Yet soon the massage turned to her front, and Michaels lost words as Jason rubbed down her breasts, stomach, and hips. The boy was even trained well enough to know just when, and how often, he was allowed to give her pussy a stroke with his big, strong fingers, always offering her clit a light caress or swirl in passing.

Dr. Michaels was a little too rung out for a normal fuck. Instead, she laid scrunched next to Jason and had him suck and nibble on her breasts while she got herself off with a chubby green vibrator she'd had since well before she met the pet. Then, as a reward, Dr. Michaels sat the boy on her lap and pinched his nipples hard while giving him a downright brutal handjob, all the while biting his ears and hissing vulgar insults. The pathetic thing spurted hard enough to splatter the TV screen.

Michaels laughed and abused the pet with the belt as he cleaned up his own mess. And then it was time for him to leave.

Michaels slipped back into her robe and sat on the couch. She watched Jason hop on his jeans and T-shirt, transforming back from a pet to a boy. A beautiful boy.

An odd, warm pulse blooming under her skin forced Michaels to her feet, and she scurried over to Jason as he rose from popping a heel into his shoe. Michaels clutched at the thick, hard arm reaching for the doorknob. The boy turned, casting her in warm innocence with his gaze.

He was so young.

"Ma'am?" Jasosn said.

Michaels' tongue felt too thick for words, her lips too fragile to articulate, her lungs too short of proper breath. Her mind too muddled to even know what it was she couldn't say.

And then the silence in the apartment was broken by the crack of Michaels' hand across Jason's face.

The boy smiled. "Thank you, Ma'am." He bowed slightly and opened the door. "I hope you have a good evening, Ma'am."