Clara's Story Pt. 01

With gratitude to firmbutgentle, a writer and editor here on Literotica, for his wonderful help and advice. Thank you, FBG!

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Ian had watched Clara for the better part of three months before he had made his move. He decided on her quickly; she would be his, so he began coming and going from her world as he set things into motion on his world to take ownership of her. She was ideal for his purposes; young, kinky, attractive, and healthy -at least as far as he could tell. He was satisfied with her state of health based on what he could observe given this world's privacy laws. She was not on any serious medications, and what minor issues she did have, his own people could address better than hers could. Most importantly, Clara had a functioning reproductive system and a parallel universe identity to step into when he brought her over to his world. He would swap the two versions of the women so they both could live more rewarding lives.

"Hey Professor Kline," Clara said, smiling at Ian as he stepped into the trendy coffee shop. "The usual?"

The people of this version of North America were so friendly, he mused as she greeted him. "You know what I like, Clara." He tapped his credit card to the reader and dropped two crisp dollar bills into the tip jar as Clara turned around to prepare his latte; plain, no sweeteners. He couldn't help but watch her ass as she sidestepped at the bar to gather ingredients and prepare his brew on the back counter. His eyes sparkled as he imagined all the things he'd insert into that backside to control and subdue her when the time was right to take her. On campus, Clara's red hair would fall to her hips in waves like molten lava flowing downhill, but at the coffee shop, she wore her hair in a bun that he rather disliked. When she was his, it would always tumble down her back, just the way he preferred.

"How are classes going?" he asked her when she handed him the warm mug and a couple of napkins. She knew he liked to sip his coffee in the shop rather than take it to go, so she stopped asking if wanted a paper cup. She invited him to sit and stay for a bit and he settled his muscular frame onto a bar stool to chat the younger woman up before the next rush of customers came in to steal her away from him.

"Not bad," Clara replied as she stacked clean mugs for future orders. "I'm about done with the homework from your class, and I think I might actually be starting to understand some of it." She grinned at him. "Maybe," she amended.

He smiled back. "And your other classes?"

"I'm struggling with chemistry. But!" she added and he knew the sales pitch to her optimist thinking was coming next. "I have a party to go to this weekend and I've got the bulk of my work cleared away so I can do that."

Ian nodded his head in understanding. He was fortunate to find a job teaching mathematics at his target's university. Even more fortunate that the hiring board did not look too closely into his academic credentials, which were forged for the purpose of getting closer to Clara. "Aren't you a little old for toga parties and beer bongs?"

She laughed. "Toga parties, yeah, I think I'm a little too old. I met a new friend in a study group that I recently joined. She's celebrating her 26th birthday and I was invited!"

Were she on his world, he'd have admonished her for prioritizing any party over her studies if she was struggling in one of her classes. But this was not his world and the eternal optimists who inhabited this version of earth were prone to deprioritizing important things in favor of relaxation and mental health. It would not be a habit she would be permitted to continue when he got her to his home, but he had no authority over her... yet. On the other hand, he thought, he admired her capacity to make lemonade out of lemons. Not that his people lacked this trait outright, but the people here definitely knew how to liven things up, and Clara seemed particularly adept at focusing on the positive and keeping things light and carefree.

"That's close in age to you, right?"

Clara nodded. "Close enough! I just turned 25."

Ian knew exactly how old she was -- she was born on September 2nd at 7:43 AM at Jonesville Medical Center -- but she didn't need to know exactly how much he knew about her. It would only scare her off. She would be considered quite old to be first working on a bachelor's degree on his world, but it wasn't the case here. Where he was from, 25-year-olds were usually finished with their second degrees and entering the workforce. But Clara was a product of her environment and had gone backpacking through Asia and Europe for a few years following the loss of her parents, which delayed her academic pursuits. Even on his world, trauma such as this would justify a hiatus from reality. Special exceptions aside, young people were pushed to achieve success in the academic fields. Even slaves had to go to school and contribute to their society. It was why slavery couldn't begin until a participant was twenty-five.

She looked at him funny for a few seconds and then turned her attention back to the dishes. He knew what she wanted to know but she was too polite to ask outright. "32," he told her. He wasn't, actually, but he looked to be about that age. Medical advances on his world slowed the aging process and lengthened lives. Ian was actually 45 and had a life expectancy of 150 years. He would appear this young for decades to come.

"Oh!" she said, brightening up. "Professor at 32?"

"My credentials warranted it," Ian said, giving her a little wink.

She looked impressed and she was undeniably attracted to the professor. His having commanded such a lofty title at his age made her all the more attracted to him. Even better, his looks were easy on the eyes. His black hair was always impeccably combed and his thick, dark beard was trimmed neatly, close to his face. He tended to wear jeans and a dress shirt that he wore unbuttoned at the top and tucked into his pants. She got nervous each time she saw him and really wanted to dominate his attention as often as she could. She would make a mad dash to the mirror in the back office of the coffee shop each time she'd see a car fitting his make, model and color pull into the lot. Checking her hair and making sure she didn't have anything on her face, she'd run back to the front of the house to greet him, pretending each time like she was taken off-guard by his presence in the coffee shop. Professor Kline usually stayed for a half-hour or more, leaving only when it got too busy in the shop for his tastes. On that day, when he was ready to leave, he used his napkin to dab up the ring of coffee his mug left behind and he made a point to say goodbye before he headed out.

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"Do you have a few minutes?" Professor Kline asked Clara after class one day. "I want to go over your homework with you." His tone was serious and firm.

Clara's face fell. Shit. "Uh, sure, Professor Kline. Your office hours will be fine?"

"We can talk right now if you want to. Come, let's go upstairs to my office."

This can't be good, she thought as he led her in the direction of the faculty wing. "Was there a problem with my homework?" Clara asked when Ian closed the door to his private space.

He chuckled. "Well aside from the fact that it's entirely wrong, no. Your handwriting is beautiful." He withdrew her paper from his briefcase and handed it to her. "Your graph is increasing on this interval, and decreasing on this one. And it seems you're mixing up the parenthesis with the brackets. You have it backwards." Clara sighed and flopped down in one of the visitor's chairs across from his desk. "This is a simple thing to remember. I'm concerned that you're not putting your full attention into your work when you're doing math. Maybe you're focused more on birthday parties?"

She nodded her head. "I'm probably not focused the way I should be. I confess to not being a 'math person.' Do you have any other techniques or ideas that might help me? Maybe you have a study program to help people who hate math?"

He smiled at her. "As a matter of a fact, I have a few tricks up my sleeve." She straightened up in the chair, paying attention. "My suggestion would be very unorthodox. We would want to keep it under the table if you're game, but I have a way to keep distracted people focused on their success."

She looked perplexed as he tried to introduce his proposal to her. "It's something that I would wear? I can't imagine there is anything I would put on that would help me with math."

"Well, it wouldn't help with your math directly, but it would motivate you to work hard to get rewards."

She chuckled, looking impossibly confused as she tried to work out the problem of what fantastic wearable item he could be referring to. "The only thing I can think of is a chastity belt." She broke into peals of laughter and turned bright red over her suggestion, realizing immediately that she had veered into an inappropriate topic for the setting they were in. Lucky for her, he was well aware of her proclivities and her interest in this subject pleased him immensely. It was one of the many qualities that attracted him to her so much. And given her preoccupation with chastity, it was the natural conclusion for her to draw. Clara, and all of his students, had downloaded his homework submission app, granting him backdoor access to the secret lives they revealed only to their private browsers. He was sure, given her consistent and frequent search history, that she would accept his offer.

"Not exactly a belt," he said nonchalantly. "But it fits over your uh... genitals so you can't touch."

Clara's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious. I was kidding about the chastity belt."

"Well, I am not kidding," Ian replied with a sly grin crossing his face.

She agreed to have him over her place that evening so he could show her the item and let him fit it onto her... if he actually had it, she amended with some skepticism. He arrived at her apartment some hours later carrying a case and when she answered the door, her eyes went straight to the cube-shaped metal box in his hand. "Come in," she said eagerly, stepping out of the doorway to welcome him. The box was too small to fit a chastity belt like she'd see on the internet, so her curiosity was certainly piqued.

"This, my dear, holds your new jewelry." He gave her a conspiratorial wink and set it down on her table. The case was opened and he withdrew a golden cup-shaped object that looked like it would perfectly cover her pubis, down to the bottom of her pussy. He handed it to her to examine. It was solid in the front, and perforated throughout the bottom portion to allow fluids to flow freely. Clara looked positively excited and she held the cup to her crotch, over her jeans.

"Oh, my goodness!" she exclaimed. "How do you know if it will fit properly?"

Ian shrugged. "I estimated your size, but I can make adjustments if I need to. Would you like me to put it on you?"

She thought for a moment and responded, "What if I say I don't want to wear it?"

"If you don't want to play the game with me, then I'll rescind the invitation." The nuance of his words soared right over her head.

Clara grinned. "I think I do want to play the game with you. Is it held on with chains?"

That certainly makes things easier, he thought. "Not exactly," Ian said. "More like a piercing. It may be a little painful. I have a pill you can take to make it easier."

Clara nodded her head eagerly and she downed the little yellow tablet he gave her. It was reckless of her, but the tablet was a placebo, intended only to confirm her consent to what he was about to do. He would certainly be working on her careless disregard for her personal safety when she was under his control officially, but for now it served his purposes.

"How about an orgasm before you lose the privilege of calling the shots for yourself?"

"Oh my goodness, yes!" Her hands went up to Ian's shirt to feel the hardness of his chest. He was prone to working out, she discovered. "Can I suck your cock?" A glimmer of approval flashed in his eyes and Clara pulled him into her bedroom before reaching down to unbutton his pants. The folds of his clothing were pushed away to reveal a semi-hard cock that boasted the potential for both length and girth. Clara moaned with delight and dropped to her knees to give him a nice, long lick up the length of his shaft. She was painstakingly slow as her tongue bathed him up from the base to the tip over and over. She stabilized his cock in her hand to ensure the laps of her tongue had enough pressure to coax him into further hardness. Satisfied with the results thus far, Clara moved to his head and popped it into her mouth as she rolled her tongue across the silky-smooth, salty surface.

He groaned, and she wrapped her fingers around his shaft at the base, sucking gently on his head. He gripped the back of her head and nudged in a little, conveying his desire for her to begin sucking. He curled her lips over her teeth, responding to his cue and safely welcoming his length into her mouth. She sucked gently, opening her jaw for him. He moved in deeper until she jerked slightly as he triggered her gag-reflex. She pumped him in and out of her mouth, licking the bottom of his shaft as he moved. Her suction improved as she adjusted to his size and he tightened his grip on her hair, holding her head still as he fucked her face.

"Swallow," he urged when he noticed her gagging was becoming a problem. She had never done that before, but she wanted to please him, so when he jammed inward, she tried it. She swallowed and he slipped right down her throat. He stayed still for a few seconds, barely thrusting as she breathed hard and focused on accommodating his size. A slight nod of her head indicated her readiness, and Ian picked the pace up.

"You're doing great, Clara. You're so hot," he told her. "But I'd like to cum in your sweet little pussy before I lock you up good." She gushed at his words and moaned her approval. "Clothes off, on the bed," he directed her firmly as he withdrew from her.

He disrobed, tossed his clothing off to the side and helped her with her clothes before playfully tossing her on the bed. Clara eagerly spread her legs to reveal a glistening pussy, nestled into a neatly trimmed bush of red hair. His finger went in for a dip test and she sighed contentedly as he slipped it easily inside. A finger was a far cry from a cock, but the fullness still felt wonderful and she clenched around him.

"Beautiful," he commented. "So wonderfully wet for me."

"Are you really going to lock me up?" she asked.

"Oh absolutely. Your little puss is all mine." He lined his cock up against her opening and pushed the head into her. "Enjoy your orgasm, my beautiful pet." And with that, he speared her. He was claiming her, and marking his territory.

"Ooooohhhh," she said, exhaling. She was so very wet for him and he glided into place, deeply and satisfying, meeting no resistance whatsoever. Her pussy bore down on his cock, muscles tightening all around him. She adjusted her hips to change his angle just enough so his shaft rubbed against her clit and her moaning became louder as he thrust into her. He stayed with her, hard and thrusting as her orgasm mounted and he watched for signs that her climax was approaching.

"You may cum, Clara. Whenever you're ready."

She hadn't thought to ask him permission to cum, but the precedent was now set. She reached around to his back, gripped him at the small of it, and pulled him close to her. Toes curled and back stiff, she raised her knees, widened her legs, and she tumbled over the edge of her climax. Waves of ecstasy shot through her, seemingly with no point of origin, pulsing through her body. She bit her lower lip, closed her eyes tight, and rode the orgasm to its conclusion as Ian grunted, stiffened his legs, and deposited the contents of his balls into her clenching pussy. Ropes of sticky, white cum painted her inner passage and he leaned down and kissed her lips. She returned the kiss with fervor and he withdrew from her, leaving her in her afterglow as he stood up and retrieved something from his pants. He pressed a hand-held medical device to her neck and activated it, sending a cocktail of painkillers and sleeping medication to her system. She was confused for only a few seconds before she dozed off and he could get to work.

He washed her clean with a rag and her pubic hair came off easily enough with the hair removal wand that he had stored in the case he brought; his technology was far superior to her world's and he was sure the hair would not regrow or require touch ups. He really should have gotten her consent before he stole her pubic hair since she wasn't really his yet, but oh well. It's bad form, he thought, but I'll be stealing a lot more from her in the near future.

The technology to hold the cup to her skin used magnetic material that was injected into her body as a gel and would harden to a flexible solid beneath her skin. He was not a surgeon, but his equipment made it simple. With a syringe, he inserted the material around her entire sex from the top of her pubis down to her perineum. This world did not have the technology to dissolve the material, so she could not remove the chastity cup on her own. It would be a permanent fixture without his intervention. He held the cup against her body and activated it with a touch on the fingerprint pad on its front. It fit perfectly because he had used her alternate from his world, Clara-Jane Newman, as the model for its construction. He stood back and admired his handiwork. Beautiful, he thought. Sorry college boys. This one is all mine.

He might have spent all night fucking her over and over before drugging her and locking her up. But he was not willing to risk interrupting his procedure. He indulged as much as he dared, but securing her was the top priority. He relaxed a little knowing that she was his now, whether she knew it or not. She would be out for another 5 hours at least and he had classes in the morning. While he was in this world, he would honor his obligations and report to work on time.

He rummaged through her dresser to find her panty drawer and selected the sexiest pair he could find. None of them were to his liking, but this violet, lacy number would be sufficient. He made a mental note to burn the contents of the drawer and replace every pair of plain cotton bikinis with more suitable items. He slid them up her legs and pulled the blankets over her sleeping form. "Good night, my sweet pet," he said, planting a kiss on her forehead.

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Clara's alarm went off at 9:00 AM, and she felt unusually well rested. She didn't remember going to bed last night. Had she gotten drunk and passed out? How embarrassing. No wait, she thought. That's not what happened. I had a kick-ass orgasm, and so did he! She racked her brain to recall the events that transpired the day before. They had talked about chastity belts and she was extremely aroused by the discussion. He had said he'd lock her up and she nearly melted from excitement. She pulled the covers back and looked down past her flat belly to her panties which betrayed no sign of a bulky cup like the one he showed her last night. A wave of disappointment washed over her. Maybe he was full of shit.

She swung her legs out of the bed and that's when she felt it. There was something hard and foreign inside her panties. When she moved her legs, she felt a dull ache around the outside of her pussy. "Holy shit!" she cried out as her hands flew to her crotch to find the metal cup was not just in her panties, but stuck to her skin. She pulled off her panties and ran to the bathroom mirror to examine her body. The gleaming, golden cup extended from just above her hairline and tapered down to a narrow end that stopped right above her anus. "What the fuck!" she exclaimed in the mirror. "What the actual fuck? How is this thing being held on?" She pulled at it, but it didn't budge. She pulled harder and harder until she felt a zap on her mons. It wasn't horribly painful, but after a few corrections of increasing intensity, she learned not to pull on the cup. He actually did it. He seriously did it! A wave of arousal hit her and she reached down to touch herself but she was blocked! This thing is no toy.