tagLesbian SexThe Professor's New Toy Ch. 01

The Professor's New Toy Ch. 01

bySomeOneNew©

Sky is a tanned, nicely put together 19 year old, 5'6" and around 115 lbs thin. She is graced with petite breasts, frequently accented by a push-up bra to deepen her cleavage, quick and intelligent green eyes with long lashes, high cheekbones, light, shoulder-length brunette hair with natural blond highlights, and thin and shapely legs that few men fail to imagine parted, knees back and pointing skyward. Her make-up is spare over a perfect complexion and full, rosy lips.

There is a self-conscious and gyroscopic grind to her pert little ass, a muscular pair of buns driven by a self-conscious young woman with little on her mind beyond the choice of clothing that best highlights her package. Many find her intoxicating but few get a taste. Tricked out almost exclusively in expensive silk tops that accompany anything from a daring slit skirt, to silk pants, to tight and fitted jeans and short skirts, Sky is invariably dressed for any occasion. She works little yet gets exceptional grades. The Sky's the limit as her friends say.

Bess, Dr Elizabeth Drake, to be more precise, is Sky's business writing professor. Bess is a bisexual and a contradiction even to herself. She is 31, noticeably taller than Sky at 5'10", around 140 lbs, equally leggy but with a discernibly fuller bosom, ass and thighs, and an attractively muscled and deceptively strong body from regular visits to the gym. A brown eyed dark haired brunette, Bess dresses for work in flowing ankle-length skirts, and tops that show a hint of cleavage that never does justice to what lies beneath, gauzy lingerie seldom associated with the average college professor, covering large breasts kept firm from exercise and a pussy kept waxed and smooth.

Bess swings like a pendulum from men to women and back again. She likes men for the piercing thrust of a hot cock, a sensation she relishes in every hole, to be graphically precise, the mix of pleasure and burning pain neatly describing her own divided nature. Men respond to her deft oral skills and developed vaginal muscles that can milk a cock to a most satisfying climax.

But most men can be domineering and aggressive (and the spineless ones are a bore to her) and being so usually prefer their women a tad submissive and demure. Bess is occasionally only too willing to accommodate them. Her favorite game is the slightly dim teenager and the truck driver. She plays the role with a girlish sort of lisp, feigning ignorance of all things sexual until forced to perform for her more experienced companion. She quickly stumbles onto the ideal technique to slide seven inches down her throat in one thrust as she pretends to gag and moans plaintively through her nose in mock protest, or screams into a pillow about how tiny her bottom is as her character is rudely introduced to the indignity of anal sex with a monstrous cock.

The act inevitably crests when, if they haven't busted a nut as they smacked red her wiggling ass, she pants "oh please don't put it in my mouth again." The guy either cums wide-eyed, seconds after the words leave her lips. Or, if he is a more controlled lover, she kneels and finally drops the act as she hungrily sucks her scum from his tool with one hand massaging his balls and the other operating a finger daintily exploring his asshole.

But after too many nights worshiping prostrate before a throbbing cock and deftly swallowing load after viscous load, or uncomfortably shifting all day from cheek to cheek and nursing a sore butt from a healthy stretching the night before, she gets the itch to be worshipped herself.

She spies a young woman and pounces almost uncharacteristically, her quarry never suspecting her dominating nature or their own predilection to be dominated in creatively decadent ways. She spends her days using a pretty little undergrad or unsuspecting waitress, creating a personal slut for a time, and breaking her first if need be. But eventually the urge for a real cock again emerges and this game grows tiring, so then it's back to the other Bess for a time, and the pendulum swings again to the teen and the truck driver or a like scenario.

Late one night, sleepy and deep into grading a set of essays, drinking her nightly cognac, Bess read an essay that was just a bit too polished. After a web search or two she discovered the undocumented source of the essay, an obscure business journal the foolish student wagered Bess was unaware of. Bess dropped her pen in the dim light of her study and drank, angry at the student who had the temerity to cross her and violate the ultimate college policy. She flipped through her grade book to find the culprit's full name: Sky Collins. Slowly she connected the name with the face, calling forth her image.

Attractive, politely confrontational, sweetly feminine Sky's face swam to the surface of her consciousness as she remembered the girl's posture in class from the Thursday before, seated in the front row of the auditorium. Crossing and uncrossing her shapely legs in class. Shifting to her side to display through her slit skirt that long, silky length of thigh. Sitting with legs spread in shorts so tight that Bess could make out the outline of her pussy as she took notes. Bess wondered how hard or easy this would be.

Unbeknownst to Bess, Sky delighted in her ability to tease both men and women, and until now it had gotten her into no trouble. A couple of angry lesbians in study groups, rejected at the last moment when she discovered that they were unwilling to do her research for mere flirtation. What were they going to do, complain? And to whom, she thought? One incident with a drunken graduate student trapped her into giving him her first (and then second) blowjob to ensure a long ride home from a concert, but that was the cost of playing her little game, and it led eventually to her current scholarship from information gleaned from choking down his massive gob as he held her head in place, impaled on his flesh.

The following week Bess returned all of the essays, all but Sky's. She instead handed her a note requesting that she visit her office "for a chat." Sky blanched when she read the note. She instantly knew that she had been caught. Running to the bathroom after dismissal she entered a stall and collapsed fully clothed on the toilet, feeling slightly faint from having no lunch that day and the knowledge that she had royally screwed up.

Instinctively, she pulled up her skirt, reached for her mound and stroked herself into a serene composure through the silk of her panties, not for sexual gratification, but just to coax the endorphins to flow and the tension to recede. Masturbation was virtually the only sexual outlet the busy girl allowed herself, and sometimes she found herself frustrated and clenching and unclenching her thigh muscles in class as her mind wondered and her eyes roved over the young men in the class. She was always careful not to spill over the edge in public and noisily announce a clandestine orgasm, for Sky was a very noisy girl when eventually she did cum.

Nonetheless, she couldn't bring herself to see her nemesis that day. She wasn't ready; she needed to prepare for the meeting. Bess, on the other hand, had expected her to appear and was angry that she hadn't come for her conference. But the intelligent junior would not receive her grade until she appeared, which she did the following afternoon, late in the day when the autumn sun began to darken Bess's little office.

Sky fretted over what to wear to her meeting. She wore a short-waisted, girlish top that highlighted her navel, and plunged to reveal more cleavage than she normally exposed, a short jean skirt and a thong underneath to give her butt a smooth profile as she walked, and white open-toed sandals. She figured that if she looked like a kid and defenseless to the professor, she had a better chance of being treated more as an irresponsible child and less as an immoral cheat. She even eased up on her makeup to look wholesome and naïve. She popped a valium just before the meeting—her one vice she fed by raiding her uncle's psychiatric practice now and again--to ensure that she would remain relaxed through her performance. In short, Sky unknowingly made herself into Bess's ideal victim.

When she knocked on her office door, outwardly reserved and respectful to hide her inner tension, she had her tissues pocketed for the obligatory tears she would need to shed. Bess answered with a thin-lipped tense smile and asked her to sit as she removed her wire rimmed glasses and placed them on the edge of a bookshelf. Though her office was stuffy that day, Sky felt an uncharacteristic chill as she sat on a cold black leather loveseat that was crammed into the small office next to a filing cabinet. Bess's perfume hung in the air along with a slightly musky scent.

Her professor's outfit as well struck her as uncharacteristic. She wore a tailored pants-suit with her hair pulled back into a low, tight pony tail, and her blouse too was unbuttoned lower than normal. Rather than sit behind her desk, Bess first sat on the front edge and towered over Sky, her long legs crossed and her feet resting uncomfortably close to Sky's in the narrow confines of the office.

"So," Bess began, "do you know why we are here for this little chat?"

Until now the girl had not decided on a course of action, to call her professor's bluff or to confess and throw herself on the mercy of the court. Sky quickly decided, judging from Bess's soft but aggressive stance, that this was a woman in no mood for bullshit. So Sky started to cry softly and sniffed, staring out the window in a well-rehearsed gaze, and letting the tears run unchecked down her cheeks.

"Dr Drake, I do. I am so very sorry for what I've done. I'm not going to try to kid you about this. I got busy and stuck, and with all of the stuff I'm involved in I just copied the essay. It is the worst mistake I have ever made in my life, and I will do anything to make it up to you," Sky spilled out the entire paragraph seemingly in one exasperated breath.

"But Sky," the professor observed in a velvet tone, her brown eyes boring holes through Sky's guilt, while considering the dark gap between her breasts "you've not hurt me. The only person you have hurt here is yourself."

"I know that now," Sky continued, wondering if she had shed enough tears to ensure a successful outcome "and I will do anything to make it up."

"Well, my dear," the professor continued in an oddly disconcerting voice, "I have precious little choice in this matter. Cases of academic dishonesty are turned over to the Student Honor Council, and they rule on the case. It is not uncommon for students to be expelled for such an infraction. You remember the contract you sign at the start of each new semester. And if you have a scholarship, you may be forced to repay the money for an honor infraction."

Sky froze like a deer in the headlights. The money was inconsequential, but her GPA was not. "Expulsion, repaying a scholarship" she exclaimed as she lost her cool and raised her voice, "you can't be serious. Oh you have to give me a make-up assignment or something. Please" she pleaded, the faucet of her tears now flowing freely.

Her final 'please' and the boundless tears found their way to Bess's groin and fostered the familiar tingle that grew into a warm glow in her belly, and the start of a typical and pleasant moistness. "Please," she repeated the student's word as their eyes remained locked, her posture becoming more erect and commanding as she uncrossed her legs. "Please" she again uttered the word, almost seductively.

Confused from Bess's reaction, Sky fumbled nervously, "I can't lose my scholarship. I can't be expelled. Ok, I fucked up. But I don't think I deserve to be thrown out," she blurted out tensely, the bitchy edge to her personality beginning to show through her polite façade.

"Deserve," Bess continued, rising from the edge of her desk and sitting on the loveseat next to Sky, her legs crossed confidently as one leg dangled close to that of her quarry with her body slightly turned toward Sky "as I said, I have little choice in the matter. What choice do I have," she asked.

"I don't know, money, I can pay you" she blurted out desperately. "My daddy," she continued, but was cut off by Bess as the woman turned to her and didn't merely place a hand on the girl's knee. She slipped a hand between her parted legs, dragging her manicured nails along the soft and tender skin of Sky's inner thigh, stopping just short of the girl's pussy, her nails slightly digging into the tense, soft flesh of her leg. The knuckles of her curled fingers just touched her thong where her pubic hair puffed it out.

She inhaled confidently as she softly caressed the tender skin of Sky's inner thigh. "Let's think. What could we do" Bess asked warmly, which threw Sky into an even greater state of confusion that stopped her from bolting from the couch that instant. The gentle tone combined with the violation of her personal space was a perplexing contradiction.

Finally unfrozen, Sky brusquely removed Bess's arm, quickly stood and moved back from the professor to where her ass just touched the edge of Bess's desk. "You are a dyke,' she hissed and pulled her skirt back into place, almost spitting out the phrase, "they were right about you."

Bess smiled as she fed off of the girl's helplessness. "Yes, Dear, I guess they were right" she stated. "But 'they' didn't plagiarize their essay, now did they Love?"

"I don't know, but I'm not your love, and I will report you for this," she threatened with false bravado, "No one will care about that essay when I tell them about this" she stammered. But Bess's demeanor unnerved her, as her professor sat calmly, clearly unfazed by the girl's threat.

"It's your word against mine, my sweet thing," Bess said as she stood and approached Sky. "I have a plagiarized essay. What does poor Sky have" she asked as she reached down to circle the girl's exposed navel with a finger.

Sky froze again. The jig was up she figured as she quickly realized the truth of Bess's statement. She sucked a dick for a ride home once and even groaned all through it to pretend that she liked it, finishing up by licking the guy's furry balls clean at his request, twice. How hard would this be? I'll just close my eyes and get it over with she thought.

"What do you want" she asked in an exasperated tone, her eyes focused to the left of Bess's face, "just get it over with."

"Over with," Bess said with mock astonishment. "Over with? Lift your skirt, pobre chica" Bess said as she returned to the couch, sat, and coolly crossed her legs, her eyes aglow with the power she held over the girl.

"Just pretend you are in class and teasing the professor; that shouldn't be too hard for you now should it" she chided.

Sky gritted her teeth and lifted her skirt a bit. Bess was just as attracted to the tightened muscles in Sky's jaw as she was to what lie underneath the girl's dress.

"No, no my shy Dear. Come closer and lift your skirt as high as it will go. You teased me with your little choochie in class; why so bashful here," she questioned.

Sky reluctantly lifted her skirt for the woman, pulling the hem above her navel as far as it would go. A diminutive pink silk triangle covered the girl's pussy and little wisps of hair peeked out from the sides. "Now give us a spin, and slowly" Bess requested, "You're pretty enough to be a model. Let's see you act like one."

Sky had spun 180 degrees when a firm voice ordered her to stop. She cringed when Bess leaned forward and she felt fingers and nails exploring her ass cheeks, now drawn tight from nervousness and dotted with gooseflesh. A finger ran lightly along both sides of her crack, down one side and up the other. It slipped under the string of the thong and traced her cleft from the base of her spine, finally coming to rest on her pinched sphincter.

Sky spun around and almost screamed "what in the fuck are you doing?" Her next sentence was cut short as Bess, quick as lightning, rose and slapped the girl hard across her face, simultaneously parrying with her other hand the girl's attempt to hit back. She twisted Sky's arm behind her back and forced Sky to bend forward over the desk. With sudden force Bess tore the thong off of the girl in one swift move.

"No my sweet, my name is Dr Drake, and from now on that is how you will address me and the only way you will ever address me unless I tell you otherwise. Do you understand my disobedient little cunt" she continued, holding Sky's arm tighter and bending the girl more fully over her desk as she emphasized the word cunt with an unexpectedly sharp slap on the ass.

"Yes" the girl hissed through clenched teeth as she felt the professor's knee slip between her thighs and press against her pussy and her legs, forcing Sky's legs apart.

"Yes what" Bess asked.

"Yes" and here Sky paused, took a deep breath and finished, "yes, Dr Drake."

"Now" Bess continued to hold the girl bowed over her desk, "are we finished with these histrionics? Because this, my little cunt, will get very unpleasant if you continue to be so disobedient." Sky shuddered inwardly at again hearing herself referred to as a cunt. But after a long pause she responded by relaxing her arm muscles and nodding in the uncomfortable position, her face essentially smashed into a textbook resting on the desk blotter. "Now spread those lovely legs for me as far as you can. This can't be the first time you have spread your legs for someone" Bess spoke, her voice matter of fact and composed.

Letting go of her wrist she added, "and stretch your arms forward and over your head for me as well."

Sky shuffled her feet so that her legs were soon spread obscenely wide. Bess drank in the sight of her new toy, the little asshole so tight and tiny and obviously virgin territory. The fresh, clean scent of a young girl just a year short of her twenties. The slightly parted lips of her pussy, unshaved but not so hairy as to be unattractive to Bess.

Sky felt absolutely numb when intrusive hands freely kneaded her cheeks, with Bess's nails finally circling her pink puckered hole and a tiny freckle aside it, and then moving down to explore the outer lips of her pussy. She felt Bess's hot breath in the very center of her most private place. Of all of the things to think of now, Sky wondered if she was clean as her thoughts spun out of control.

Bess told her to rise and spin around, and nose to nose with her she proceeded to examine her face. "So pretty" she said as she softly kissed Sky on the mouth. Sky let the woman kiss her without responding.

"No my dear, again you must learn" she said with a hint of tension in her voice. "You do know how to kiss" Bess chided as she pulled the girl into her, one hand tightly controlling the girl's right ass cheek, her fingers clenching and digging into the flesh of Sky's crack. She was shocked to feel the intrusion, as her few liaisons with men never included such rough sexual play. She never touched her ass when she masturbated, so the sensation was oddly kinky to her.

Like in a dream Sky complied, kissing the woman like she was kissing a man, noticing that a woman's mouth felt softer, and this woman's mouth seemed more controlled and skillful, especially her tongue. Her body instinctively leaned into the kiss, unconsciously responding to the sexual overture despite the circumstances, and then pulled back when she became aware of her reaction.

"Better" Bess finished, "much better Dear."

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it" she inquired.

Sky didn't respond. She couldn't look Bess in the eye, so oddly enough she looked down at her tormenter's cleavage, now aware of the size of Bess's breasts.

"Now turn around again and copy my address on that piece of paper on my desk. I want to see your ass the whole time you are in this office, so take off your skirt" she ordered.

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