Caitlyn and Professor

"No, sir." The pain was excruciating. "It's just too much, sir!"

The professor looked pleased. "But you're doing so well, Ms. Logan," he said as he rubbed her ass gently. "We're almost there." He then cupped his hand over her pussy and rubbed it as well. Caitlyn groaned without control. As he put his middle finger inside of her she moved like an animal. Her sex had never felt so good. It was as if as the pain intensified, the possibilities for pleasure intensified as well. He put his mouth to her ear as he moved two and then three fingers inside her. "I promise, you'll be well rewarded for taking your punishment so well, Ms. Logan," he said almost whispering. She believed him. She held some kind of trust in him. Her life was in his hands and she knew she deserved the paddling. Now they came one after another.

"ELEVEN...TWELVE...THIRTEEN..." She felt more awake and alive with each smack. "FOURTEEN...FIFTEEN...SIXTEEN..." She now felt a mastery over the pain as well as a sort of intoxication. "SEVENTEEN...EIGHTEEN...NINETEEN..." Whereas before the professor made her feel weak and insecure, she now felt powerful and aware.

He paused before the final paddle. "You've done so well, Ms. Logan. I'm really very impressed. Are you ready for the last one?"

"Yes, Professor. I'm ready now. Please give it to me." (SMACK) "TWENTY." She was panting, almost hyperventilating. The pain spread throughout her body. But it was something other than pain now. More like an awareness. He revealed his his hard cock to her and she wanted it badly. "Did I take my punishment well, Professor?"

He again drew himself to her ear and whispered. "You were splendid." He then kissed her tenderly on the cheek and then the mouth. "Would you like your reward now, Ms. Logan?"

"Yes please, Professor. Please give me your cock."

Standing behind her he opened her with two fingers and place just the head of his erection inside her.

"Please give me more. Please don't tease," she whimpered. Her pussy practically dripping.

"Such inspired dirty talk, Ms. Logan." He remained only partially inside her as she writhed and bucked. "I think we may have found your true calling. I think you'd do well as my whore."

"Yes, it's true." She agreed with him wholeheartedly. "Please fill me up, Professor. Please, Professor, I'm yours to fuck."

The professor then grabbed her waist tightly and pulled her back. His cock slid effortlessly into her causing her to moan like an animal. It was overwhelming. She almost came instantly, but managed to hold back.

"Professor, may I please come for you? Please."

The professor continued fucking her slowly, methodically. "Not yet. Hold it. I'll let you come. But for now you must hold it."

"Yes, Professor." And to her surprise she could. He had her trained. "Yes, Professor." She whispered over and over.

He began moving in her faster holding the back of her bra like the reigns of a horse. He then reached around to place the palm of his hand on her clit.

"Yes, Professor..."

"Would you like to come now, Ms. Logan?"

"Yes, Professor." She was about to explode. "PLEASE!"

"Very well then. Come now!" No sooner had he said the words then she let loose a primal groan pushing back on his cock and grinding on his midsection. The orgasm seemed to be without end. "Good girl," he said as she continued to grind on him. "Now I want you to clean it up for me."

He brought his cock to her mouth and she went to work on it hungrily lapping up her own cum. "Do you like the taste of yourself, Ms. Logan?"

"Yes, Professor. It's delicious."

She greedily sucked on his balls as he slid her skirt down to her knees. "Now I want you to remove the rest of your clothes, Ms. Logan."

As fast as she could Caitlyn took off the skirt and heels; then the ripped stockings and thong. Finally she unclasped her bra and let it drop to the floor. She now felt especially whorish as she stood completely naked before the professor who was fully clothed aside from his exposed cock which was at that moment pointing directly at her. She felt completely willing to engage in whatever fantasy the professor wished to fulfill with her. There was a certain kind of freedom in that kind of willingness. There was no pretense; no bullshit. She wanted to be used and the professor was very willing to oblige. It was a simple arrangement, but like he said, one which yielded maximum fulfillment. He played with her long into the night until he'd taken her in every position he could think to, abused her in every way that he felt compelled, and given her enough orgasms that she'd lost track and finally she'd passed out from exhaustion.

It was late morning when Caitlyn awoke the next day. The room was bathed in sunlight streaming through the blinds. She called to the professor several times but received no answer in return. With some struggle, she roused herself and made her way to the bathroom to pee. She felt sore from the punishment, but also the fucking. Looking in the mirror on the way out she saw her backside was pink and bruised in places. She dressed herself leaving the ripped stockings on the professor's bed and made her way to the living room. The house looked different in the light of day. Caitlyn took a seat on the sofa and played back the evening's events for herself. At that moment she noticed an envelop on the coffee table with her name inscribed. She removed the note it contained and read:

Dear Ms. Logan,

First, I must say, very impressive! Of course it goes without saying that with such exceptional work you've surely earned yourself an A in my class. So, let me be the first to congratulate you! In all my years of teaching I've never had a student who's work I found quite so satisfying. Unfortunately, I had to be at a seminar early this morning and could not be here to congratulate you in person, although I'm sure our paths will cross once again. Oh and, Ms. Logan, I certainly hope that I haven't made a mistake trusting you alone in my house.

Caitlyn laughed and placed the note back on the table where she'd found it. At the other end of the table was the professor's pipe from the previous night. There was a book of matches next to it. She had a strong urge to smell the cherry tobacco once more before she abandoned his house. She clenched the stem of the pipe between her teeth and struck a match bringing the flame to the bit of tobacco that remained. She took several puffs creating a cloud of smoke around her. It looked like a rather expensive pipe. Very detailed. Possibly handmade. She noticed his monogram etched on one side: MSH.

She left the professor's house taking care that the door was locked on her way out. As she made her way to her car she continued smoking the pipe. The smell brought her back to her childhood. Her grandfather had smoked the same pipe tobacco. She put the key in the ignition and cranked it until it turned over. She emptied the pipe into the ashtray, then tossed it on the passenger's seat and put the car in gear.