Professor Mine

She had red hair, cropped slightly less than shoulder length, a round face and full cheeks with full red lips. Her green eyes sparkled when she smiled.

I had not had her as an undergrad, and was fairly new as a graduate student. Fellow graduate students said that she was strict. Legend had it that if you succeeded under her tutelage, you were assured a successful career. If you failed, you may as well study something simple, like theoretical physics.

As an RA, I was assigned the duty of maintaining data backups. How a person of my background could be expected to have the necessary knowledge I don't know, but there it was. Given this, it was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened. At one point, some data got lost and she asked me to restore it from backup. I was happy to oblige, as I would obey her in anything.

Secretly, I found her quite attractive. Something about the way she moved and her demeanor drew me to her. Her breasts were not large, but nicely round. I often imagined I could hold almost all of one in my hand. Her hips matched her face, nicely rounded. At the office, she did not wear tight-fitting or revealing clothing, and perhaps this lack of knowledge fueled my secret desire, which I kept tightly under control.

Unfortunately, the data in question was not on any tape I could find. In a panic, I tried other things, including looking in the Trash bin, but the bits were no where to be found.

"Professor, I'm sorry, but those files are not on the backups!" I reported nervously.

She pursed her lips and tensed. I felt, rather than saw, her displeasure. I was prepared for the worst.

"Really. Well, that's it then. No matter. It was *only* an hour's worth of data collection." She went back to what she was doing. I squirmed a bit, standing there, mortified.

"Don't you have some analysis to attend to?"

"Yes, Professor" I retreated to my office.

A day or so later, I received what I now refer to as The Email. She was working from home and needed me to update some software on her home computer so she could connect to our servers from off campus. I thought about sending her instructions - they were simple enough - but the message was clear, I was to personally attend to the installation.

I arrived at her home late that morning. She lived in a good neighborhood and had hosted lab parties in the past. She answered the door in a plush bathrobe, something that took me aback, but I shrugged it off thinking, she can work from home however she wants to be dressed.

She smiled and said, "Great, thanks for coming by. The computer's in here. Oh, and take your shoes off, you can leave them there. Hardwood floor, you know." she led the way. As usual for most of her wardrobe, the robe left much to the imagination. I quickly suppressed my thoughts, lest she suddenly become telepathic. I just wanted to get this job done successfully and get back to my office.

Her home office was a comfortable affair, desk, small sofa and recliner. I sat at the computer and quickly went through the steps of updating the software, then tested it. I could hear her in the kitchen making coffee. I was about to go get her to show her how to use the software, when she came into the room.

"There's a slide show on the desktop you should see. That one right there", she leaned forward, pointing. A bit close, I thought. I could feel the heat from her body. I double-clicked the colorful icon as she went back to the kitchen.

The next few minutes would change my impressions of Professor forever.

The Show opened and the images began to play, full-screen, before me. I gasped as I realized what I was seeing. These were pictures of Professor in various outfits: corsets, underwear, push-up bras, stockings in a variety of stimulating patterns in vogue with undergraduate women. And in each picture, She was bearing at least one device, a leather belt, a whip, a cane, a riding crop.

Interspersed with these were pictures of naked asses, all in various stages of rosiness. Some had distinct welts and lines. I thought I recognized a few from the profile and hair. Needless to say, I was growing uncomfortable as The Show played, but I was growing in other ways also.

After a few minutes of this, I was prepared to leave quickly, perhaps stopping by my apartment to - er - relieve myself, when I heard her returning. I knew this because I no longer heard the soft sigh of slippers on the floor, but rather, severe clicks as she walked. I was used to her walk, as most of her shoes had hard heels that clicked and clacked when she walked by my office, but somehow this was different. I spun the chair around, ready to get up, and saw her. I sat back down, startled.

She stood there, legs apart, hands on her hips. She wore stiletto heels. I could see her red, red toenails in the open toes of her shoes. Her calves below the bathrobe were covered in an alluring patterned stocking. Then her robed dropped. She was not dressed in her usual manner. Around her waist was a black garter belt, straps clasped to the stockings. Her body was covered with a black and silver corset, tight about her waist and pushing up her breasts.

Mouth open, I took in further details. Around her neck was a silver-studded leather collar with a silver ring at her throat. Her wrists bore leather bracers, studded with silver spikes. Finally, two leather straps descended in a V from her waist to join somewhere Down There. They tightly framed a full bush of hair, neatly teased. She was definitely a natural redhead.

In my time at the lab, I had come to realize that she was not one to pay overmuch attention to her hair. Many times it was brushed nicely, but as the day wore on, it became casual, with stray strands getting loose and doing their own thing. Now, her hair was positively wild. In the back of my mind I thought, yes, of course; she is working from home. Silly, silly thought.

"You may have realized I was not too pleased to lose those files. You also realize I am not one to let such things pass." She walked, or rather, strutted, across the room. Her derriere exceeded every expectation of my imaginings. Her hips moved, swaying, each cheek raising and lowering in alternating cooperation. Her behind was bare except for the rear garter straps to the outside of her hips, and the single strap that disappeared between her cheeks and attached to the V.

She went to the closet, heels click-clicking on the floor, and knelt down to retrieve an attache case. She stood and turned back to me, her gaze haughty as she strode slowly to the couch. click, click, click

She placed the case on the couch and opened it. "Come here."

Hesitantly, I moved to obey, I was very conscious of her heat as I stood next to her, peering into this case. It contained a number of - implements.

"I am wont to pass severe judgment and punishment on those who fail me. Take off your shirt." I could not help but obey. She picked up an odd leather device and, more quickly than I could react, seized my wrist and wrapped one end of it around, locking it in place with velcro. She then seized my other wrist. Suddenly, I had both wrists bound in wide leather bands. There was also a loop of braided leather. What's that for, I wondered.

She grasped the loop and led me to a full-length mirror on the wall. Above the mirror was a hook on a rope, suspended from a pulley in the ceiling. She raised my arms and placed the loop over this hook. I was left looking at my hands, which were held slightly above my head.

OMG! OMG! OMG! I am way too compliant, I ranted to myself. I was about to react - finally - when I felt my arms being pulled upward. She pulled the other end of the rope, drawing my hands over my head, and tied it off to a cleat attached to the wall. I was left standing there, facing the mirror, helpless, with my arms overhead. Many thoughts went through my head. WTF was happening? How? I should have... I cursed my natural tendency to obey. I looked at myself in the mirror, naked from the waist up. I looked at her in the mirror.

I tried to turn toward her, trying to think of some sort of appeal.

"You will face the mirror!", she ordered. I complied.

Slowly, she circled me, eyeing me up and down. At one point she stood between me and the mirror and pushed her chest forward, staring me in the face. Daring me to glance down. Then, without a word, she strutted back to her case and retrieved a black leather lash and strutted back, letting the many thongs dangle by her side.

I must say I was getting pretty excited. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through me, and felt a distinct pressure as my cock began to harden. The unexpected always gets my attention.

She stood behind me, slightly to the left, and looked at me in the mirror.

"You know how much we pay for an hour's worth of data. The cost of backups pales in comparison." I nodded, ashamed. "But the cost is not what is at issue here. We can't reproduce that data. Effectively, you have betrayed our science." Now *that* truly hurt.

"I ..."

She raised the lash and brought it down hard on my back. The sudden sting made me gasp. I forgot what I was going to say.

"The principle of letting the punishment fit the crime rules here." The lash struck across my mid-back. I tried to move forward. She placed the handle across my stomach and pushed back.

"Now back up a bit. Surely you accept the natural consequences of your failures, right?" I moved back, leaning forward at the waist.

She strut-strutted back and forth behind me, pointedly clicking her heels on the hardwood floor. Then she drew her arm back and lashed out again. Back and forth pacing, alternating with hard strikes with the lashes, now a forehand, now a backhand. I twitched with each lash, sometimes gasping. I think I once whimpered. The fire grew on my back, which stung all over.

At last I could not take more, and tried to move away from her.

"Ah, such lack of discipline" she sighed. "Tsk, tsk. Well, I've got something that will help."

She strutted back to her case. Despite my pain, I watched her every movement in the mirror. Oh, what a sight! I felt the strain in my shorts.

She came back with a set of leather bands to which were attached lengths of rope.

She squatted before me. I couldn't help but notice where her head was in relation to my anatomy.

She unbuckled my belt, and undid the button and zipper and pulled my shorts roughly down. I remembered I had gone commando that day, so I was instantly naked from the socks up.

I saw her looking at my growing manhood, her gaze lingered for a while. Then...

"Step out of these, they are in the way." Meekly, I complied. Once again.

She leaned forward and bound each ankle with the leather bands. As she did so, her head was oh-so-close to my hardened cock. I could move just a bit and brush her hair. I did not dare.

She got up and moved behind me again. She kicked my shorts across the floor and bent over to grasp the rope attached to one ankle band, which she pulled towards a ring in the floor. The rings were normally flush with the floor, so I had not noticed them before, but now they hinged up. She fed the rope through the rings and pulled. My stockinged feet slid easily across the floor and she tied the ropes off.

I now was bound hand and foot, my legs spread. I had to lean forward to maintain balance.

"Oooo, what a nice ass you have! Cute little heart shape. I bet the girls love that." She stroked my cheeks with her free hand. This gentle touch was wonderful stimulation and I pushed back just a bit.

She gently stroked and kneaded each cheek for a bit. I was beginning to think things would turn out okay. Then she raised her hand and brought it back down. Hard. The Smack! echoed about the room and I gasped at the sudden sting. Again, her hand came down hard, this time on the other cheek.

"Yes, yes, definitely a fine ass." Smack! Smack! She looked at me in the mirror, her face the model of surprise. "Look at that! It's getting all pink now!" Smack! Smack!

I tried to move forward, but here was no way to retreat from her sincere ministrations without losing my balance. I was stuck with my ass sticking out, ready for her hand.

Smack! Smack!

Smack! Smack!

Smack! Smack!

"Ow!" She shook her hand. "Y'know, that kinda hurts. Can't have that, I've got some writing to do." She lifted the lash. "Oh! Look at this!" She trailed the lashes over my bum, gently caressing. This felt good on my stinging ass.

Then she stepped back and, with a full body motion, swung the lash. The tails whistled through the air and slapped sharply across my cheeks. I gasped, almost crying out in pain.

She moved from one lash to the next in a series of smooth moves. She was like a martial artist with that lash.

Whistle Smack! Augh!

Whistle Smack! Augh!

Whistle Smack! Augh!

Whistle Smack! Augh!

She stepped back and surveyed the scene. Then she whirled in a full circle and brought the lash against my back side again in a fierce backhand. I jerked forward and quivered in pain. She strutted back and forth behind me, taking advantage of many different angles.

Click-Click-Click Swish-Whistle Smack!

Click-Click-Click Swish-Whistle Smack!

Click-Click-Click Swish-Whistle Smack!

Click-Click-Click Swish-Whistle Smack!

I felt I could take no more, but could not move away from the lashing. Bound feet and hands put me off balance if I tried to move away. I could do nothing.

Click-Click-Click Swish-Whistle Smack! Augh!

Click-Click-Click Swish-Whistle Smack! Augh!

Click-Click-Click Swish-Whistle Smack! Augh!

Silence. Through faded vision I looked up. She was standing there assessing my bum, then produced a camera and took some pictures. She strutted around to face me.

"I did a good job" she said matter-of-factly. "Want to see?" She moved beside me and turned the camera so we could watch together. The heat from her body so close was causing a stir down below, amazingly.

I saw images of my ass, uniformly red down to the upper thighs, and the stinging came to the forefront of my mind.

"Nice, eh? I'll have to add them to my slide show."

She strutted back to the desk and put the camera down. My hopes rose, thinking that it was over and she would be releasing me. Ah, eternal optimism.

From the desk, she strutted slowly back to her case. Click Click Click. She reached in and pulled out another implement, a braided leather wand perhaps two feet long. It tapered to a point from which dangled several short lashes. I moaned in fear. Yet still my dick stayed hard.

She strutted back, slapping the wand in her palm, to stand behind me. She looked at me in the mirror.

"I bet you thought we were done here. Remember what I said earlier about the punishment fitting the crime?" She placed the wand between my legs, pushing up on my balls firmly. I looked down and could see the tip of the wand below and to the side of my dick. She drew it back and up so that the tip traveled between my cheeks. She took a step back and flicked down, brushing my red cheeks with the tips of the lashes. On my already stinging rear, this felt like a little fire.

She moved to one side and proceeded to snap my ass with flicks of the tip lashes.

Swish Snap! Yipe!

Swish Snap! Yipe!

Swish Snap! Yipe!

Swish Snap! Yipe!

Swish Snap! Yipe!

"Remember early on in clinical, we were taught that patients should not bottle their emotions up, but let them out? I think you are holding back on me. Please, feel free to express yourself."

With that she drew her arm back and brought it forward, along with the wand. Its full length struck both cheeks with a loud Whistle Smack! and pain lit my world. I gasped.

Whistle Smack! Augh!

Whistle Smack! Augh!

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." she said.

Click Click Click to my other side. Whistle Smack! Augh-gh! A pause. Whistle Smack! Augh-gh!

"You are still not letting your true feelings out. That is not healthy, you know."

Click Click Click

Whistle Smack! Augh-gh!

Whistle Smack! Augh-gh!

Whistle Smack! Augh-gh!

The fire in my back side was becoming too much. Surely I could take no more...

Whistle Smack! Ai-eee!

"Oh, yes! There we go!"

Whistle Smack! Ai-eee!

Whistle Smack! Ai-eee!

Click Click Click

Whistle Smack! Ai-eee!

Whistle Smack! Ai-eee!

Whistle Smack! Ai-eee!

I was gasping and writhing in pain. I never knew there could be so much.

"Please, Professor!!"

"Of course, happy to oblige."

Whistle Smack! Ai-eee!

Whistle Smack! Ai-eee!

Whistle Smack! Ai-eee!

She retrieved her camera and took some more pics of my ass on fire.

"Okay, we are done here. For today." She lowered my bound arms and undid my wrists, then unstrapped my ankles. She click-clicked over to the chest and replaced her implements as I dressed myself, I winced at the sting as I pulled on my shorts.

"Uh, Professor, I think I'd like to work from home today."

"But of course, be my guest. Be sure to update the web site with your progress. Ta ta!" and she sauntered off.

I arrived at home and immediately changed in to my house robe. Even so, the sting was prevalent in my thinking, so I arranged a standing desk set-up for my laptop. Somehow, I had a hard time concentrating. I dithered until my girlfriend, Mary, got home.

"Ah, casual day. Nice to relax and do some work from home, eh?"

"Yes. I've had quite an afternoon. Can't really sit down."

"Oh? why?"

"Y'know my Professor? And how I lost some data?"

"Yes, and as I recall it was about a terabyte."

"Yeah, well I haven't found it yet. Anyway, she asked me to update her computer and I think she set a trap on me. I got there, finished the update and all of a sudden I was tied up so I couldn't move."

"Oh, do tell! Sounds enticing! She's pretty hot." A pause. "I suppose. If you're a guy."

"Uh, yeah, but it's not what you think. She believes in the punishment matching the crime."

"Ahh. So what was your - punishment?"

"She spanked me and thrashed my back and ass with all sorts of things. And, oh man, does it sting!"

"What? Now that's unique. Let me see."

I raised my robe to show her my reddened and welted ass.

"Wow, she did a number on you." She glanced around front and saw a hardening dick. "And it seems you didn't dislike it totally."

"Yeah, there was exciting in a way, I suppose. Still, I hurt and can't sit down."

She smiled at me and said, "Well, let me help you out a little." She knelt in front of me and began stroking my cock, bringing it to full attention. I sighed.

"There, there, doesn't that feel better?"

"Mmm-hmm"

She continued stroking, caressing my balls with the other hand. She then sucked the tip, flicking her tongue delightfully. I thought I was going to blow from her stroking, but before it came to that she moved her hands to my thighs and began thrusting her mouth onto my shaft. She pulled me close again and again.

I was luxuriating in the feeling of her soft mouth sucking my hard cock, getting closer and closer.

Then, her hands moved to my buttocks and began caressing there, roughly. The renewed and amplified pain combined with a mouth-covered cock confused my body. Her nails dug painfully into my cheeks as she pulled me forcefully forward to fill her mouth with hard cock.