The Correction Machine

The frames of the metallic structured shook and buzzed menacingly at center of the other wise windowless empty room. The professor waved at the machine in excitement, her chin up so high, her head was ready to eject off her neck. "Isn't it marvelous?", she exclaimed to the dean with an unrestrained pride, pointing to the contraption, as if she had built the whole thing. "We have only recently perfected the design of this machine. The subject's head goes over that green lit sensor there, and the rest over it."

The dean stood next to her, submerged in thought and shock, not quite paying attention to her exact words, annoyed by how white the light in the room was. "I see the look of concern on your face. Do not worry. We make sure they are all adults. By this age, they even start to like it." Except for the machine, and an out of place mahogany table, the room was completely devoid of objects. A skinny boy with oversized clothes was straining against getting closer to the machine, holding a chain, in full tension, his hand. The other end of the chain found its way to a black collar nestled around a girl's neck. She bent over on the floor by his feet. From the collar, silver rings stood out, for seemingly no purpose but appearance of serious ceremony. Her wine red top was a bit tattered to reveal her collar bones and waist. The uncomfortably cold room exposed her nipples though them. Her skirt rested against her, mostly exposed, toned thighs, which indicated she could have been a gymnast. But she clearly lacked the discipline for it, as she had a look of madness in her eyes, and kept tugging at the chain restlessly. She was eager to explore the toy that lay in front of them. The boy struggled to restrain her, trying his best to keep her from getting too close to the machine. As a TA, he was not prepared for such tests of strength.

"You see, sir. Once, those straps successfully restrains the subject, suspended in mid air, the device you see over there is to descend down slowly..." "Oh, No. Not into the mouth. That is the cause we are against. The subject is going to be upside down. Yes. We use a camera to achieve precise entry. The camera feeds the images to a chip inside, that uses the latest processing methods to locate the hole. My best students designed the algorithms... under my supervision of course." "I can sense what you are thinking. The parents of students have complained, and you have to respond. But I should let you know this the best method for educating them. Education without punishment is just a sermon, no?" "I know that you yourself are a man of science, and hence, I assumed your approval would be automatic, and you are just here out of courtesy and curiosity." "You don't have to frown at me, sir. The camera is not recording this, and none of those parental headaches need to weigh on you. Your reputation is safe within these walls. Why, one day you will be known as the revolutionary behind this method", clearly meaning the last sentence about herself more than anyone else.

"I just need you to approve of this." She extended a writing board towards the dean, but the dean maintained his arms folded. "Too cruel, Sir? That!...Ha!", as if she had finally found the source of his discomfort. "That's not a real knife!! It's just a stabilizer, merely for artistic effect." "What did she do? Well, for starters, let me demonstrate..". The professor reached into her brown bag, rummaging with a look of utmost focus, creating a curious mix of sounds of things clashing inside. She brought out a sheet of paper and handed it to the dean. The dean stared down the creased sheet squinting his eyes and adjusting his glasses. Meanwhile, something occurred to the Professor and she looked at the TA and asserted, "Remember, everything must be recorded", evoking a shy nod from the boy. The dean meanwhile studied the strange symbols he might have recognized once. Just below the printed lines, an unnecessarily judgmental question in an exam, was scribbled

"Matrices bob on this string of zeros and ones.

Lips and tongue salivate and then my thirsting mons."

Doodles of what looked like drops of liquid seemed to be spurting out of all the occurrences of the numbers one and zero.

"One human's lips touching another's genitals is the most depraved thing humanity has invented, sir. There is a good reason we never see it in nature. She needs to be corrected."

The dean returned the sheet disinterested and completely unimpressed with the Professor's case. "I cannot approve this. Besides this does not count as proof, and your only other claims are rumors and gossips brought to you by that damned TA! Our students come from respectable families," he finished with an air of certainty he was used to taking by now. The boy shook in fear, realizing he was being spoken of by the dean.

The professor's face turned from a painfully held smile to a blank hopeless look. Quivers of anger, tugging at her upper lip, escaped her face now. She stared silently in thought at the machine. The machine's buzzing filled the room and was now only tinted by the boy's gasps to hold the girl back, and her snickering and babbling. Finally, in a fit, the professor decided it was time for her last resort. She removed her black coat and folded it neatly on her bag on the mahogany table. She took off her shoes next and placed them next to the table, leaving her feet completely naked, from toes to heel. She took a deep breath, and then after a moment's hesitation, decided it was time to unbutton her white glossy shirt. At the fourth button, The TA and girl paused their exchange, realizing what was happening and stood still with their mouths gaping wide open. Her pants followed and she was now only in her light-yellow undergarments, exposing most of her previously hidden brown flesh. Another breath, and her bra and panties joined the pilgrimage of the rest of her clothes. There she was then, with her small breasts, and large nipples, angular arms and taut buttocks, with a look of steely resolve. She wanted leave her glasses and locket on as a mark of emphasis, but decided they had to go too. The machine would not allow it.

The dean was observing all this while nervously standing by her, looking away, his head in his hand in disbelief. She walked towards the machine and started strapping one wrist to one end of the frame. She would need help with another one. The dean realized this and huddled the students to help her. The boy let go of the girl's chain. Not caring about her collar, the girl rushed to strap her professor in, clearly enjoying the turn of events. She started with the left hand and then the professor's legs. The professor stood strapped in a X shape, along the breadth of the machine, her bare body on display for everyone in the room.

She ordered the TA to turn the machine on. He looked completely flushed by now, and nodded to her feet in confirmation, too scared to make contact with her eyes or anything else. The opportunity to do something gave him some relief from his predicament. He punched his fingers into a black phone till the machine's buzzing grew louder. It turned on its axis till the professor was upside down. The phallic looking object over her, which was attached to a rod, descended downward. Being rotated and the chill of the room must have shaken the professor as she didn't look as sure of her physical state anymore. Her expression, as if she had finally woken up from her trance of rage, wavered. Her face contracted in exertion. She strained to bend her knees inward, as if to discourage the cylindrical object looming over her, instead only drawing attention to her pubic mound. The dean shook his head in disbelief. He decided he had had enough and proceed exited the room, leaving with a thud of the door closing conveying his final verdict on the matter.

Meanwhile, the girl couldn't stop giggling at the plight of her professor. She watched as the object finally reached the professor's vulva. It stopped their briefly, tasting her entrance, vibrating and making some beeping noises of approval. The professor wriggled her legs one way and another, with gasps escaping her once sure lips. Her body was already visibly secreting in anticipation. It finally entered her. Fluid slipped out in response, and started trickling down her body. First, her belly, glazing her cleavage, and then slimily dropping onto the floor from her forehead. Her breathing had become audibly faster and guttural. The object now started exiting and entering her rhythmically, causing all sorts of tremors throughout her body, groaning, and cursing, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

The boy kept fumbling with his phone. He seemed to be awkwardly trying to ignore the upside down professor getting pleasured in front of him. The girl meanwhile decided to add her own motions to the mix. She threw the things off the mahogany table and dragged it close to the machine. Swiftly, she jumped on to it, without the need of her hands, with full confidence about what she wanted to do next. She landed on one feet, her thighs flexing and revealing the cheeks beyond them beneath her pleated skirt. Her face was level with the Professor's mound. The object was going in and out of the professor, the wet sounds resonating through the room, syncing with her hungry moans. The girl leaned in. She started with gentle kisses trying not to tip over the table. The professor opened her eyes in shock to find her student over her. "No!", she yelped, as the wet noises of the object squeezed in and out of her. The girl stopped at professor's exclamation, until the Professor realized what she was missing from the kisses just a moment ago. She looked around to realize the dean was no more in the room. An embarrassed encouragement followed, "Umm..it's okay. Don't stop".

First, just at the surface, and then really exploring the outer layers, she continued, really keen on showing her teacher the secret pleasures of the tongue. This time the girl started licking more forcefully. The professor felt the girl's articulate strokes, which reminded her of fingers, except with a softness and wider area to reach all of her. Not to mention, how the tongue brought its own moistness. The professor couldn't believe the variations of the sensations. Sometimes the girl's tongue was stiff and the professor just felt the tongue's tip. Sometimes the wet soft surface returned. The professor started swinging in response, notwithstanding the pleasure, causing the machine to tremble unstably. The girl kicked off her shoes to oblivion, merely missing the boy, and started rubbing her feet over the professor's body, feeling her hips with her toes. She searched for the professor's large nipples and was quick to find it. It was large enough for her to squeeze between her toes. The professor responded, shrinking her chest forward into her feet, and then back in a dance of pain and pleasure. The noises of the object entering her vagina were intensifying, like there was a waterfall about to burst. The girl grabbed on to the professor's thighs to really get as close to her red engorged clitoris as possible, completely nonchalant about the object entering the professor, barely an inch away from her face, juices splashing on her. The professor had fully transitioned from a state of inhibition to being completely overwhelmed with pure desire through every vein of her body, feet to head, palms to palms. The intensity kept building from all the stimulation till she pulsed and pulsed, a shaking series of moans and groans leading her body to a trembling arch for a good ten seconds.

The green sensor, as if it had detected something, blinked a few times, till the machine became still to it's original lower hum. The rod remained over the girl's head. She tip-toed with a mischievous smile, curious how the professor tasted deep inside, given the object relishing licks. Streams of liquid, sweat and arousal continued flowing down the professor. A weird mix of revelation, defeat and satisfaction slowly took over her expression. The aftershocks of the pleasure still lingering in her voice, upside down, she confessed, "I was wrong." The boy pressed a final click on his phone. He had been pointing it in the machine's direction for some time now. As if approving of the professor's admission, it responded, "Recording complete."