Pet Store Professor Ch. 04

It was a very strange sensation conducting class with Francesco sitting next to Nils, both students grinning at me, while all along I knew about Michelle and Tark and Jamal. It gave me a superior edge but also made Francesco more interesting in my eyes. Journal entries were to be handed in that week. Nils kept caressing his hard biceps during the class, and Francesco just stared at me as if gifted with special powers of penetration. He knew nothing about my enslavement by Tark, but then he may know more than I realized.

The next Friday Francesco just walked into my office and sat down, stretching out his long ends, displaying his work boots. He said nothing, except he wasn't in the mood to attend class and decided to skip it. He'd stay in the office doing some other shit until the soldier's bitch (although he didn't say those words then).

"Seen your friend lately?"

"Which friend?"

"The soldier."

"Sure, I saw him the other day."

"Good."

"He seems interesting."

"He is, Francesco, very interesting. You'd like him."

"You're lucky to have a friend like that. Wonder what he sees in you."

A slave boot licker, I almost blurted out.

Why did it matter to him, except he was sexually itching and needed Tark to scratch him. Anyway, ignoring my suggestion that he attend class, he stayed in the office until I returned. He said nothing but kept reading a book while the kunt professor (one of Tark's names for me) tended to academic matters at the desk. Every now and then he caught his professor staring at him, and he smiled. "Come see me at the pet store Monday." Then Nils barged in, Ignoring me, he exclaimed.

"Thought I'd find you here. Let's get go." They left without a word, leaving me breathing heavily, expecting, anticipating, imagining what it would be like to kneel before those alpha students.

The store opened Monday at 10, Francesco had apparently told Tark to come to the back and ring the bell after nine and he would let us in. Tark, I learned, kunt didn't know until that morning when Francesco opened the back door and admitted us. He greeted Tark warmly but said nothing to his professor. It was as if the kunt wasn't even there, as if the kunt wasn't worthy of his attention. This is a difficult and paradoxical thing for slaves: they need attention and yet being ignored can be a master's training tool if he knows how and when to use it. Was Francesco practicing to dominate his professor? Had Tark said something? The kunt doubted that because Tark would reveal nothing to anyone unless we both agreed to it, nothing except we were friends, when he chose to, and maybe acted out a few harmless humiliating things to test the waters.

Francesco let us into the stock room. He was alone in the store as he had a key to open it in the morning before the owner arrived later.

"You wanted a dog cage so I found one in the stock room and set up in the clearing behind these cases of pet food."

So, Tark had in fact spoken with Francesco already, and had said he want to buy a dog cage without the kunt knowing anything about it.

"Choke collar work okay, sir?"

"Sure does, buddy, perfect for the bitch, isn't it, professor?'

Kunt did not answer but could sense that Master Tark was in a playful mood. Francesco giggled in his boyish way, probably remembering collaring his professor during the last visit and getting a kick out of it.

A floor of grayish metal-like appearance with holes in it, bars all around, a gate that could be locked, an opening in one side, large enough for a dog to stick his head through, or a bowl to put through it, or an arm, or two hands to collar and leash if a master so desired: the cage aroused my interest. Francesco pointed to it and spoke again only to Tark.

"You think this will be big enough for your dog, sir?"

"'Mmm, you don't have any dogs in the store the size of my bitch."

"How big is the bitch, sir."

And Francesco kept looking Tark up and down, eyes filled with admiration. He hadn't even greeted his professor who was still mulling over the fact that Tark had already been to the store and Francesco was feeling very comfortable with him, even touching the muscular arms in gestures of friendliness.

So, how did the professor end up in the cage in the stock room of the pet store?

"Got an idea, buddy. Your professor here can crawl in and we'll see. If he can fit into it on all fours or squat in a corner, then it's big enough for the bitch."

Without hesitating, Francesco opened the gate and motioned his professor to get down, without a word, just with a severe look as he pointed down to the entrance. When the kunt hesitated as if protesting, Francesco ordered:

"You heard what Tark said. Get in."

How dare the student talk to his professor that way? The kunt as professor was momentarily flustered and shocked, and then knowing that it was the Master's wish, and already well-trained to obey, resistance crumbled.I obeyed as my natural submissive nature began taking over my thinking, my fantasy of being owned by a student overcoming objections which were more pretend than real, my fantasies about Francesco as a young dominant eclipsing my judgment. By that time under Francesco's severe look and hot stance, I felt myself becoming an "it," so it knelt and crawled into the cage, obeying the student's orders. Francesco shut the gate hard and locked it. Kunt could have sworn that he said, "good bitch," but that might have been its imagination.

"Well, I'd say the cage is large enough for the bitch." Tark chuckled.

"I think so, too, sir. Good for transportation purposes also."

They whispered to each other over the kunt's head, the kunt now scrunched up in the dog cage, excited but feeling ignored.

"I need to smoke, dude."

"We can't in the stock room, sir, but if we step outside. Boss won't be here for another hour, and no one else is working this morning."

Tark took out his smokes and offered Francesco one. As he extracted the cigarette form the package, Tark tousled the boy's hair. And Francesco gave him a playful punch in the arm in return.

"What about the bitch?" Francesco asked.

Tark roared laughing!

"Here that, professor? Hear what your favourite student called you?"

"Yes, I heard. Let me the fuck out of here."

"Not yet, professor. Francesco and me need a smoke. You can rest for a while. Wait, tell your teacher what else you call him, buddy?"

"What else? What do you mean, sir?"

"C'mon, dude. In the army we soldiers have some choice names for commanding officers especially when they rag our ass. The professor must piss you off sometimes, you and your friend Nils, doesn't he? So, aside from bitch what else? I'm asking you to tell me and I know you want to say it now."

Francesco turned and stared at the teacher in the cage.

"Well, Nils calls him dickhead and assfuck..."

I could see that he was having difficulty expressing these terms, probably blushing, and so was the kunt, but clearly he wanted to please Tark who chortled, "go on, what else?'

"Well, if he pisses me off, really pisses me, I call him a fucking cocksucking cunt."

"Whoa, hear that professor? My buddy here says you can be a cocksucking cunt sometimes. Is that a true description?" And Tark laughed out loud

"I shouldn't be saying this. It's not right. He might fail me, sir."

"Why? For calling him a cocksucker cunt? Don't worry, bro. I'll see to it that he gives you an A for having alpha balls. He appreciates that more than a fucking essay."

"Well, it's really a creative piece for a journal, a story about whatever we want to write, no matter what."

"So what did you write about."

"Oh, some dirty fantasies," Francesco chuckled.

"Gotta read that shit myself sometime. "

"I'd really like that, sir."

And from the cage I could see through the bars that Francesco bowed his head slightly in respect and gratitude towards the soldier.

"Now tell me, bro, bet your friend Nils got some choice words for you when you piss him off."

"Sir?"

"Your friend, NIls, if he calls the professor assfuck and you call the profesor cunt when he pisses you off, then what does Nils call you? Whisper it to me in my ear so the professor won't hear."

And that is exactly what Francesco did. He whispered the abusive words Nils called him when they had a fight or Francesco pissed his friend off, little realizing that he was giving Tark some verbal advantages, because this particular submissive responded to verbal degradation.

"Well, well, sounds like pretty ordinary shit to me, buddy."

"He calls me worse things."

"But you're still friends?"

"Yeah, you know, it's how friends are sometimes ..."

"Like you and me, buddy, one day, I bet."

They went outside to smoke, leaving the kunt alone in the cage, in a strange alternate world of its own making, waiting, waiting, feeling itself become more and more animal ... liking the sensation, the way children played at being horses or wild beasts. The animal is not far from the surface of our lives. How often we use animal metaphors and similes to express our inner being and desires. They came back in laughing, Tark had his arm around Francesco's shoulders. Then he said,

"Show me how strong it is."

Francesco sat on top to demonstrate the strength of the cage, spreading his legs wide, and carried on a conversation with Tark who stood close between his legs and placed a hand on each of Francesco's knees, a very friendly and intimate action. The kunt in the cage, squatting in a corner so close to Francesco's ass he could lick it. He couldn't quite see Tark between the bars, for all he could see of Francesco was the boy's back, ass, legs and boots. He had also clenched the bars with his hands so the kunt could either lick or bite his fingers. The kunt was beginning to feel shame and jealousy. Francesco's fingers kept opening and closing around the bars above the kunt's head as if he was nervous or excited to be in Tark's grip.

"So what do you think, sir?"

"About what?"

"The cage."

"Well, it looks like our bitch is happy."

"Yeah, the bitch looks happy. You happy, professor?"

""Call him cocksucker, my friend."

Okay, sir. You happy cocksucker?"

The kunt said nothing, afraid of agreeing, afraid of encouraging Francesco who in the presence of Tark had acquired a confidence verging on arrogance, a sense that he could do and say what he wanted since the professor was helpless. Just last Thursday Francesco and Nils had walked into the office without knocking, and Francesco sat on the chair next to its desk, and Nils stood in front of the desk overlooking the teacher.

"We need an extension."

"The journal is due next week."

"Like Francesco said, we want an extension," Nils stood with his arms crossed.

Both of them had not completed the work.

"You see, we're writing one entry together, the two of us, but it's longer than the required 500 words, and we have other shit to do, and Nils has football practice."

"Did I say you could write one entry together?" I responded, trying to assert my authority as their teacher. "And I already gave Nils an extension for other work. This is getting to be a bad habit."

Francesco leaned on the desk.

"Yeah, and he was pissed off with the lousy mark you gave him. Really angry. And no, you didn't say we could write the journal together, but it's what we decided and you'll really like it when we're done."

I could feel myself weakening under the sound of Francesco's voice and the tall presence of muscular Nils standing in his Doc Martens. Something about Francesco: the professor could feel himself weakening and submitting to the student. The feeling intensified in the cage, squatting under Francesco's ass, as he remembered the two of them in his office.

The kunt had experienced a strange image flitting across its mind, an image that coalesced and solidified and seemed to leave its body. In the image it fell on its knees before the boots of the students, instinctively recognizing and acknowledging that they were masters in the making, Alpha kings, deserving obedience and worship, of dominating any and all submissives, whether gentle or rough, male and female, any who came into their lives, regardless of the social position of the slave. They possessed the unrestricted right to fuck and rule weaklings and subs just as ancient Roman patricians had the right to use their slaves. Images flitted through his mind like hallucinations, as if the kunt had an out of body experience ... the slave wanted to lick the student's boots as a sign of its obedience, all in a dream, needless to say.

"Hey, professor, you lost in a dream or something? We're talking to you."

"Lost ..." I feebly responded.

"So, we'll hand in the journal when we're done with it. Better get a fucking good mark, too, if you know what I mean," Nils blurted out, as if annoyed.

"Yes, yes, do what you want, take the time you need ... I will accept ... everything ... promise."

Jolted out of reverie by Francesco's voice above the cage, the kunt shook its head like a dog.

"I wonder if I could talk privately with you, sir," Francesco asked. Then he walked around the cage and rattled the bars with his construction booted foot.

"Just teasing," he said, "no offense, bitch."

"This is not the best place to talk, buddy. Your boss can come in any moment and we've got a bitch in a cage ... and we've got things to say and do. you should come to my place so we can talk freely. Smoke freely. Anything you want. Whaddya say, bro?"

"Oh, yeah, I'd like that, sir."

From its position inside the cage kunt could look up and see Francesco's demeanour, easy and friendly and respectful towards the master, bowing his head when Tark touched his shoulder.

Kunt even imagined Francesco sitting on the couch chatting with Tark, his legs resting on the kunt's back, using the professor like a footstool. Would he ever become a bitch: Tark dominating Francesco, and Francesco dominating the kunt... with Master Tark's permission, of course. How much would Tark reveal about the true nature of the professor's relationship with the soldier? Could Francesco be trusted with it? What about fucking Michelle?

"And what else did you call the professor, buddy?" Didn't you say cocksucker?'

"Yeah, that, too."

"Never to his face, though, right?"

Through the bars the kunt could tell Francesco was nervous about the direction of the conversation. It was one thing to tell Tark, but quite another to speak directly to the professor.

"Well, do it now."

"You think he's annoyed, sir?"

'Nah, he's a good sport, aren't you, bitch? Besides, I know he likes you. That right, bitch? You like Francesco?"

He kicked the cage hard.

"Answer!"'

"Yes, yes, I like Francesco! I fucking like Francesco! I don't care what fucking names he calls me. Now let me out of the fucking cage before his boss gets here. Please."

"Seems like the bitch is getting angry," Francesco said, and both guys laughed but a curious thing occurred. After unlocking the gate Francesco stood directly in front of the opening, blocking the exit with his legs and construction boots. Moving on its hands and knees to get out, its face confronted the boots, it was all thekunt could do to stop from bowing like a submissive dog and begin lapping them.

Then Francesco shouted: "you're my fucking bitch, professor!!"

And I shivered in my heart to hear him.

"Good for you, my man. We gotta go, buddy."

"Sure thing, sir. Be right with you." And Francesco moved aside to let his professor out. Tark disappeared into the store. Francesco collapsed the cage, then handed it to his professor. He was about a head taller than the kunt, a lad that would look terrific in a uniform. Then with a determined look on his face, he handed the large flattened cage to the kunt.

"Here. Carry this to the cash.."

Instinctively, the kunt said,

"Yes ,Sir."

And it wondered how all this would affect Francesco in class as the kunt's student... so strange and dangerously alluring and the professor could hardly wait to read the journal.