High Risk, Higher Reward Pt. 01

A devilish thought comes to me and I choose my words carefully.

"Now now Sylvia, you agreed to swallow everything," I say, emphasizing the last word.

A second goes by before her brows furrow and she releases an animalistic grunt in anger and disgust, letting me know she understands what I want her to do. Even though her eyes shone blue, I could almost see the orange flames engulfing her mind in silenced rage. If looks could kill I would have been atomized by now.

She would have to get over it though, even I had accidentally swallowed some pubic hair in my youth while orally pleasing various sexual partners. Now, she was the youth and she would comply or face even worse consequences.

When Sylvia's mouth reaches the end of my cock, she channels her frustration, sucking with tremendous strength and causing an audible pop as my tip leaves her mouth. I quickly inspect myself and, as desired, no cum or hair remains stuck to my dick, which was enough to satisfy me. I quickly return my focus to Sylvia because the real show is about to start. I stare at her in anticipation as she closes her mouth. Her furious stare barely counting as eye contact as her brows make an aggressive V shape.

"Go on, impress me."

I have never seen someone more reluctantly comply to anything as she purses her lips and slurps the hairs into her mouth, aiding a stubborn strand stuck to her chin inside with the help of her fingers. The manner in which she does so is comparable to how one might consume a speck of food found stuck to their face after a meal, the only difference being that the meal in question was a horrific blend of gooey semen, wiry pubic hair, thick vaginal fluids, and excess saliva that had been marinated inside her rectum. It was both erotic and absolutely repulsive at the same time and I loved it.

Without being promoted any further, she tilts her head back and puts on an incredibly forced fake grin before sensually spreading the grotesque concoction across her teeth with her tongue like a world-class baker would use a knife to smooth icing. Never breaking eye contact, she purses her lips again and blows air bubbles through the viscous mixture before eventually sucking it back into her mouth. Leveling her head while keeping her eyes locked on my face, she sticks the now bubbly, hair-filled, off-white glob that resembles a discarded wad of chewing gum out on the center of her tongue waiting for my approval.

After watching in complete awe I'm reminded that she was a whore long before meeting me, and this only strengthened my resolve to make her mine permanently. Seconds go by as I leave her in that position, watching as her eyes start to water from the building stress of the clump spreading across her tongue and from not blinking. I want to make her savor the undoubtedly horrid flavor for as long as possible, so in the future when I introduce her to other despicable ways of consuming my seed they'll *almost* always seem milder in comparison to swallowing this. Only when the water at the edge of her eyes begins leaking down her face do I finally allow her to swallow, telling her "You know what to do, relish in it"

Careful not to lose any over the side, she slowly and sensually pulls the ugly mass back into her mouth, suppressing the urge to dry heave while swirling it around in an attempt to liquify its scratchy and gelatinous texture before swallowing it with a hard gulp. Her facial expressions mimic all 5 stages of grief as the bulge in her throat tantalizingly slides down her esophagus, starting out squished and contorted with her eyes screwed shut before transitioning to a momentary look of rage proceeding pitiful pleading eyes that swell with sadness before eventually settling on a queasy expression of dissociative acceptance.

I'm so impressed by her display I actually begin to pet her head as I praise her, "Good girl, we're almost done."

For the next 30 seconds, she looks marginally more comfortable as I do so but that feeling quickly fades as she suddenly hunches over with a need to be sick. She lunges towards the toilet in the corner as she starts dry heaving, moving so fast I couldn't stop her if I wanted to. Instead, I get on one knee beside her and pull her messy hair back so it doesn't get any filthier. She heaves bent over the toilet several times while I very gently stroke her back and make shushing noises in an attempt to calm her. After this many unsuccessful attempts you'd think her body would accept nothing was going to come out but it forces her to try at least two more times before a petite burp of air she had swallowed earlier escapes her shaking body. Finished, she slumps forwarded exhausted.

Looking at her, face planted against the arm she had resting on the toilet seat, I realize she's far too drained to just abandon like last time. Despite my growing reputation, I wasn't a soulless monster and It was obvious she was in need of some aftercare. I certainly had achieved my goal of degrading and humiliating her but I could amplify how much that contributed to her progress by showing her some strategic compassion as well. I let her rest until she begins to stir on her own.

"Get up and sit on the toilet, you should pee before we leave to clean out your system. Feel free to empty your ass too."

She looks confused so I help her up and plop her on the toilet. I don't know her address yet but I know she lives nearby because I've seen her walking to my class in the morning from off-campus. I was going to take her home and force her to recover because I had a feeling otherwise she'd push herself too hard too soon.

This is something people often don't understand about dom/sub relationships, a good master understands and is responsible for their submissives. Her purpose indeed is to serve and please me, but being the one in control means I have to steer her ship in generally the right direction for her to be able to do that. Being a dom means being in charge of knowing and enforcing what's best for your sub, their devotion to serving you however you please is only the reward.

Seemingly lost in a trace I shake her a little to force her back to reality. She blinks and asks in a fearful and unsteady voice, "wha-what do you mean leave? I have other cl-classes to go t-to."

I couldn't help but chuckle a little at that, in her state she'll be lucky if she makes it to my car. Her abdominal muscles were twitching from overuse, she was filthy, barely functioning, and at the moment I didn't even know where I had put her dress. I vaguely remember throwing it in my rush to get it off her so I peek into the neighboring stall and sure enough it's lying on top of the toilet with a corner of fabric hanging inside the bowl.

Answering Sylvia's question, "As amusing as it would be to watch you stumble off to your next class wet, filthy, and with my cum dripping from your ass, I'm taking you home to get cleaned up and rest."

She was still a bit dazed, but after a few seconds, I think she understands because she scornfully nods.

In her mind, Sylvia was afraid that what he meant was he was taking her to his home, if that was his true intention she might never be allowed to leave. After paying it some thought though she realized she was in too deep now to do anything about it, no matter what she chose she wouldn't be able to go back to her old life. If she tried to escape him not only would he likely stop her and punish her but even if she succeeded her future would be destroyed and she'd be trapped in a dull, unfulfilling existence.

"Hurry up and piss already so we can leave," I say, nudging her foot.

She's covered in goosebumps and when I reach out to touch her she reluctantly lets me wipe some of the grime off her tits. Unsurprisingly, her nipples feel hard as ice, after being naked in an over air-conditioned bathroom for so long she was freezing. I take a moment to enjoy massaging her sore red breasts and my hands must be warm because she's surprisingly receptive to this, even leaning into it a little as I cup them in my hands. Realizing I'm not going to leave her alone until she goes potty, she closes her eyes and tries to relax. When she starts emptying her bladder I break away to give her some privacy.

"I'll get your dress and you can complete the last task I have for you in the car ok."

I leave her alone in the stall to go collect her dress as she starts rubbing her arms for warmth. She finishes urinating shortly after I enter the neighboring stall and pull it off the toilet. As I'm squeezing out some of the water it's soaked up I can hear quiet sploosh noises coming from next door. Sylvia must've taken out the plug like I had told her she could because the sound was my previous load dribbling out of her ass and landing in the water. Not wanting to miss that, I walk back with her dress in hand.

She seems embarrassed when I catch her holding her breath, flexing her asshole to push the deeply lodged cum out. She stops, afraid that she's offended me in some way.

"No no, please continue," I say motioning towards the toilet bowl, "but spread your legs so I can see."

Apart from a slight eye roll, she does as I ask and straddles the toilet without any resistance. I watch with perverted fascination as small globs of my semen drip out of her ass one by one while she struggles. She had yet to fully regain control of her body, so it was difficult for her to contract the required muscles hard enough to force out the entirety of my massive load. I crouch in front of her, dress draped over my arm, and place a hand on both the small of her back and just below her stomach. I apply gentle pressure as I stroke downwards, squeezing her like a tube of toothpaste. I don't think it's working but she doesn't seem to mind the skin-on-skin contact and it does seem to restore some of her mind-muscle connection. With a final squeeze, she forces out enough cum out to satisfy herself that any remnants would just have to make their way out naturally later.

"Good girl," I encourage, "now put this on and grab your things."

I hand her the wrinkled damp black dress and she pulls it on over her head after standing up. She starts putting on her heels but I tell her to skip them because she can barely balance enough to get them on. She clutches them and her purse, containing her belongings plus the butt plug, like a kid holding onto their favorite toy.

"Once we get outside walk next to me and I'll help you to my car."

She silently nods and follows me to the mirrors and sinks. This is the first time she's been able to see what she looks like and she's in such a shabby state that her brain can barely comprehend that the person staring back at her is herself. Wanting to avoid acknowledging her awful appearance any longer she refuses to keep looking. I thought she was gorgeous like this however, a close second to how beautiful she looked last time we were here. I take a moment to fix my outfit before leading her to the locked door to the hallway.

I rotate the deadbolt and look both ways down the empty hallway, this time of day most people in the building are sitting in classrooms listening to lectures. I motion for Sylvia to follow me and she timidly steps out of the bathroom before we start making our way to the stairwell instead of the elevator where we would still have a slim chance of running into someone. With my hand placed on her far hip, ready to catch her if she stumbles, we make our way down two flights accompanied only by the pitter-patter of her bare feet. Arriving on the ground floor, I want to avoid as many people as possible so I take her out the building's side exit that leads straight to the parking lot. On our way, we only pass a few students too engrossed in their phones to even give us a passing glance but that doesn't stop Sylvia from tensing up each time. I'm unconcerned, kids these days were so addicted to the internet I doubted they'd even notice a stunning young woman like Sylvia walk past them, and even if they did they probably wouldn't think enough of it to tell anyone.

Now standing on the thin strip of concrete sidewalk bordering the car-filled asphalt parking lot I realize I had failed to consider something. Even though the designated faculty section where I parked was the closest to us, there was no way she would be able to walk across the baking hot pavement and I didn't want to risk burning her feet or stepping on anything like broken glass or drug needles. Other than some people too far away to be able to identify us the lot is vacant so I make up my mind.

I catch Sylvia off guard when I scoop her off the ground into my arms like an oversized child, I had never held her for any reason other than to fuck her before. She lets out a gasp but she's so exhausted both physically and mentally she appreciates being held, even by me. I walk to my car as fast as I can without dropping her but she's unintentionally doing her best to distract me. She wraps her arms tightly around her belongings and nuzzles her head into my shoulder as if she was planning to fall asleep in my arms. It was a good sign, a sign that I was well on my way to fulfilling the second half of her fantasy. It's too bad I couldn't let her sleep though, she needs to listen to all the new rules I have for her to obey on the drive home.

My car unlocks automatically as I approach and I pop the passenger door open to lower her inside, careful not to bump her head on the frame. She slumps in the seat with her eyes closed but I don't move to wake her yet. First, I get inside and strap into the driver's seat. I almost feel bad for what I'm about to do but I've been tempted to do it since I felt up her tits. I stretch my hand across to her unconscious body and into the cleavage of her dress before pinching her left nipple hard enough that she bolts awake.

"Ow ow ow fuck, what did you do that for professor!"

"You need to tell me where I'm taking you dumbass, plus you can't sleep now anyway because you need to listen to what I have to say before I let you go."

Disappointed I had stopped treating her so relatively lovingly but relieved I didn't seem to be taking her somewhere else, she begrudgingly gives me directions to take her to her apartment. Evidently, she lives alone in a small complex that used to be a motel a block away but she tells me the only place to park is around the back so a little farther. Maybe in the future, I'd force her to let me take her bound in her own bedroom to see if she had ever fantasized about being raped by a burglar.

I save that thought for later as I pull out of the parking spot and begin slowly driving her home; since it was near campus the speed limits were very low meaning she has plenty of time to listen.

I tell her, "From now on you're limited to wearing only what I approve of to class. This includes all makeup, hairstyles, accessories, and also feminine hygiene products. Every morning before you go about your school day, you will wait in my office for me to inspect you. Any changes I make to your outfit must be retained for the rest of the day or until I say otherwise, you'll be provided a general outline of what I want you to wear each week to avoid wasting my time."

The tired death glare she responds with tells me she wasn't too pleased about this new rule, but like a good pet, she says nothing.

Recently, I've derived great pleasure from the easy access to Sylvia's crotch short skirts and dresses provide, combined with other items I have fetishes for like lipstick or clear lip gloss that shows off her naturally full lips, tops that give a nice view of her cleavage, form-fitting clothes that flaunt her incredibly sexy figure, heels that display her toned legs, and of course, some basic makeup for her eyes to indulge my desire to see it running down her face when she cries. Even though I did admire her standard suited secretary look from before I'm excluding it from the list because it's clear to me that I need to continue forcing her outside of her comfort zone. She needs to be in a much more vulnerable state if I ever want her to finally give in willingly to her true nature.

I was looking forward to sending her the first weekly list of allowed outfits later. There's a lot of potential enjoyment to be had from controlling every aspect of what Sylvia was allowed to wear. I picture her standing in an inspection position in my office, her hands behind her head and her legs spread apart while I look her over. In my mind I imagine her begging me to leave her outfit alone as I contemplate whether or not she deserves to wear underwear based solely on if I'm in the mood to have a nice view during class. My thoughts become even more perverse when I think about all the things I could do to her on her period; make her spend the day pantyless with a tampon string hanging from between her legs so that as she walks you catch glimpses of it beneath her garment, or better yet ditch all those nasty chemical-filled products entirely and force her to free bleed. The power behind the idea of her repeatedly having to ask me for permission to go the restroom during class, only to be denied several times before being allowed to so that as she leaves red is streaking down her legs, was a turn on for me by itself.

"By next week I expect you to be waxed everywhere it counts. In the future, I'll allow you to keep a neatly trimmed bush most of the time, but I want you completely bald for the time being. I'll also be sending you some materials to study and I expect you to have their contents memorized by Wednesday."

Sylvia, still her defiant self but now in an uncharacteristically subdued manner, asks me, "I already trimmed it for you once this week, do I really need to get waxed on such short notice?"

Unlike most of the time, I can tell that her pouting is genuine but I'm not going to negotiate on this. Normally I wouldn't be one to care about perfectly smooth genitalia but knowing that the opportunity to have a threesome with her and Emma was coming up meant this would be a chance to fulfill a fantasy of my own. If she knew what I had planned, her experience with my own pubes would've made her understand why it was important.

"Let's put it this way, If you don't I'll be sure to tie you up and do it myself, and trust me you won't like my way of doing it."

Sylvia swallows out of fear and hesitates for a moment. Even in her slowed mental state she couldn't help but picture what he meant. She imagined being completely restrained to a table with a gag holding in her screams. Hot wax is poured onto her mound and allowed to run down between the folds of her pussy before cooling off enough to solidify and be forcefully removed. The thought was intrusive, making her completely forget about questioning what she was expected to memorize, instead of shifting her focus to how raw her pussy felt and how sore her ass was.

She still struggles to clear the image from her mind but eventually musters a, "Yes professor."

She remains quiet now as we cruise down the somewhat busy college town streets and I pretend not to notice her repeatedly nodding off and jolting awake every time the car hits a bump. I wondered if she was having any pleasant dreams. As I pull up behind her building she wakes up enough to put on her heels.

"You've been a good girl today Sylvia, despite your mistakes, you performed admirably, even while being punished. Get some rest and send me a list of your missed classes so I can email them that you were making up a test or something."

She glances at me as she prepares to get out and I can tell she doesn't want to accept how good it feels hearing me say that.

"Thank you, professor."

When her hand finds the door handle I tell her one last thing.

"Before you leave, from now on when we're alone I expect you to call me master."