Owning Professor Ballard Pt. 07

"Oh, thank you for clarifying that Kathleen," said Daphne humorlessly. "But this is not a laughing matter, Professor. You were basically masturbating in class, in front of your students."

Ballard bit back a response. That's not how she would characterize the situation, but she was in no position to argue. Anything she said would only antagonize her younger colleague. She stared down at the floor for a few more seconds, then looked up into Daphne's face.

That was when she began to feel the first trickle of real fear.

Daphne was looking at her strangely. It was a cold, calculating look. After a few long moments, she nodded her head, almost imperceptibly. The young blond seemed to have come to a decision.

"Oh, my. What am I going to do with you now, Kathleen?" asked Daphne playfully as she continued to regard the older professor. Her lips curled into a cruel smile. From her vulpine expression, it was obvious to Ballard that the young blond had already decided exactly what she was going to do.

Ballard said nothing. She had a bad sense of foreboding. It was clear that Daphne was not just going to laugh this off as a joke between us girls.

The vibrating plug buzzed on accusingly, an audible testament to her own stupidity.

Daphne reached up and put her right hand on Ballard's left shoulder. Her eyes were alight with malevolent intent. She gently guided the older woman backward to the center of the room, well out of reach of the office door.

"Don't move a fucking muscle," said Daphne harshly, "or I'll call in the cavalry right now. Understood? We need to have word, me and you."

Ballard nodded meekly.

Daphne stepped over to the open door.

"Pippa!" she shouted.

Ballard had another momentary spasm of panic. Was she going to bring in her daughter right now? Let her see her like this?

Daphne saw the terror in Ballard's eyes and held out a calming hand, before resuming her conversation through the open door.

"Pippa, I'm going to have a chat with your mom. We have some business to discuss. Please wait in my office, sweetie. This won't take long."

Ballard heard her daughter's muffled reply.

Daphne closed the door and looked at her watch. "I think I have time for a little fun," she said, rubbing her hands together. The pretty blond walked over to an over-stuffed chair in the corner of the room and sat down, crossing her legs primly.

"Show me," she said curtly.

The situation was rapidly spiraling out of control. Ballard took one last stab at salvaging her dignity.

"Daphne, please. I made a mistake, but it's no big deal, right? You don't have to do this."

"Oh yes I do, Kathleen Ballard. I do indeed. I've taken your shit for years. Now it's time for you to squirm for me."

"Please. Don't make me do this," Kathleen pleaded.

"I love to hear you beg Kathleen. Please do it again," said Daphne implacably. She was smiling again, like a wolf who found herself suddenly alone with the flock.

Ballard tried one last gambit. She stood up straight and looked Daphne in the eye.

"I won't do it. You're being...inappropriate, Daphne and I'm not going to put up with this one second longer."

Daphne picked up her smart phone.

"Fine. I'll just text Pippa and have her come over." She began punching in the number. "I'll tell her to bring in our secretary as well, just so we'll have plenty of witnesses at your inquest with the board of regents. Let's find out who's being inappropriate, Kathleen."

Ballard began to look around the room, wild-eyed, as if literally seeking some physical means of escape. A time portal? A manhole cover in the floor? Should she throw herself out the window?

But there was no escape.

Finally, Ballard took a deep breath and her shoulders slumped yet again. Daphne continued to punch numbers into her phone.

"Wait. Please, Daphne. I'll do it," said Ballard meekly.

She was totally defeated now.

"Come," said Daphne curtly, snapping her fingers.

The older professor began to walk slowly over to the chair where Daphne sat. It was only a few paces away, but the journey seemed to take forever. She felt unmoored and slightly wobbly, as if the floor had suddenly been tilted beneath her feet. The plug buzzed on relentlessly.

Finally, she was there. Ballard looked down at Daphne and blinked several times, as if waking from a dream. Daphne smiled up at her serenely.

"Um, how do you want me to..." began the older woman haltingly.

"Just turn around, bend over and lift your dress, Kathleen," said Daphne tersely, twirling her right index finger impatiently. "Hurry, up. I don't have all day, you silly goose."

Ballard swallowed hard, then turned and bent over as instructed. She reached down with both hands and lifted the hem of her short dress above her waist.

Daphne leaned over and inspected the proffered ass.

"No panties either, Kathleen? You are a naughty girl, aren't you?"

Ballard just stood there in silence. She had never felt so exposed in her life.

Daphne reached out and pulled gently on the plug. Ballard flinched, but did not move away.

"My, my, that's a big one, you dirty girl. Pull your cheeks apart, please. I want to have a closer look," said Daphne clinically.

Ballard hesitated for only a second before realizing she had no choice but to comply.

The senior professor reached back and pulled apart her ass cheeks with both hands.

Her face burned.

There was a long pause as Daphne surveyed the plug carefully, then Ballard felt another tug as the young blond began to pull backwards on the large black protuberance.

Ballard yelped.

"Hush, hold still, Kathleen, " said Daphne, not unkindly. "I want to see what size it is."

Daphne continued to pull. She smiled thinly as the plug began to dilate the rim of the older woman's anus as it was slowly withdrawn. The muscle of the sphincter flattened and paled as it was stretched circumferentially, around the large bulbous head.

Ballard grunted, but stayed still. After a few more seconds, Daphne released the plug and it was sucked quickly back in to Ballard's well-trained ass.

"That's at least a four inch plug," said Daphne, obviously impressed. "How long did it take you to get that monster in?"

"About five minutes, I guess," said Ballard softly.

"Rule of thumb with butt plugs, Kathleen, is it takes the same amount of time to take them out as it does to put them in. With plugs this size, you have to be extremely careful or you're liable to tear yourself."

Ballard said nothing, although she did find it vaguely disturbing that Daphne was apparently some kind of expert on the mechanics of butt-pluggery.

There was a pause of several seconds, then Daphne smacked Ballard's ass cheeks with both hands simultaneously. The twin reports sounded as loud as pistol shots in the stillness of the room.

Ballard started, but made no move to retreat or jump away. Daphne smiled knowingly to herself. A threshold had just been crossed. Emboldened, the pretty blond reached out and ran her hands lightly over the the surface of the older woman's bare ass.

Ballard was suddenly conscious of the many welts and whip marks that criss-crossed the flesh of both pale globes. She had been caned for the first time that very morning. The damage to her flesh was extensive. It wasn't something you would miss.

Daphne ran her fingers slowly over one particularly angry welt.

"Ouch. It looks like someone has been a very bad girl," she said in mock sympathy. "You poor dear."

Daphne continued to run her hands along the smooth contours of Ballard's ass, pinching and squeezing the flesh appraisingly.

There was a long pause, then Daphne spoke.

"Tell me, Kathleen. I know this might seem like an odd question coming from a fellow English professor, but are you someone's slave?" she asked casually.

Ballard said nothing. She thought about how much her life had changed over the past few days. A week ago, the question would have seemed absurd, even comical. Now, it was just a formality.

She thought briefly of denying it, but what would be the point? The answer was as plain as the marks on her ass.

Another smack.

"I asked you a question, Professor," said Daphne tersely.

Ballard paused for a few more seconds, then whispered, "yes."

Daphne chuckled, kneading the older woman's ass cheeks proprietarily for a few more seconds before adding, "You mark well, Kathleen. You're mistress is to be congratulated."

Professor Ballard winced, but didn't move.

"How did you know?" Ballard croaked after a few seconds. She couldn't help herself.

"Well the butt plug and the whip marks were my first, clues Einstein," chortled Daphne.

"No...I mean how did you know I have a mistress instead of a...master or something?"

Daphne smacked Ballard's ass again with both hands.

"Oh, come on Kathleen. Everybody knows you're a dyke now."

Ballard said nothing. The plug sang on.

"Who is she, Kathleen? You're mistress, I mean," asked Daphne conversationally.

Ballard stayed silent, bracing herself for another pair of smacks on her exposed ass.

Daphne delivered. This time the impact was much harder. The young blond was gratified to see twin handprints starting to etch themselves in to the soft, pale skin.

"Come on, Kathleen. Don't be shy. I'm just curious."

"I'd rather not say, Daphne, if you don't mind," said Ballard primly.

To her amazement, Daphne didn't press her too much.

"I respect that, Kathleen, but at least tell me if she's a student."

Ballard paused, then answered softly. "Yes, she is." She bowed her head and looked at the floor.

There was another volley of smacks, but these were lighter and more playful.

"That's delicious," Daphne laughed. "The high and mighty Professor Kathleen Ballard, the Ice Queen of the English department, plugged by one of her own students."

As Daphne's laughter rang in her ears, Professor Ballard glumly began to re-assess her current situation. She stared down at the floor, as if the solution to her predicament could be found in the grain of the hardwood.

This was not going at all as she had planned. It was rapidly becoming evident that it had been a mistake to let Daphne in to her office. She had thought the younger woman would take one look at the plug in her ass, then recoil in disgust and run out of the room giggling like a school girl. That obviously was not going to happen.

She had not expected to be spanked, interrogated and systematically humiliated.

Ballard was beginning to think that there was more to Daphne Swanson than met the eye. Her younger colleague was not acting like a dizzy, mindless bimbo. In fact, her air of calm authority in the face of Kathleen's predicament was downright disquieting.

Thinking back, Ballard realized Daphne hadn't seemed shocked or even surprised to find her older colleague naked beneath her dress with a large vibrating butt plug in her ass. Nor had she been scandalized by Ballard's confession of slavery or even the fact that her mistress was one of her own students.

She wasn't acting like a bimbo at all. In fact, she was acting like something else entirely.

Faint alarm bells began to go off inside professor Ballard's head. She was beginning to think that, in her current condition, it might be extremely dangerous to be alone in a room with Daphne Swanson.

Daphne stood up slowly from the chair. Professor Ballard watched the pretty blond walk over to to the center of the room.

Professor Ballard didn't move. She just stood and stared.

"Don't get me wrong, Kathleen, I think it's great that your mistress sent you to work plugged. A slave should be plugged as often as possible. It helps remind her of her place."

Daphne turned and faced Ballard, crossing her arms lightly.

"I keep all my pussy slaves plugged during use," she said with a smile.

There it was.

"Welcome to my parlor, said the spider to the fly," said Daphne in an odd sing-song voice. "Tell me, Kathleen, would you like to be my pussy slave?

"You're what?" asked the stunned professor.

"My pussy slave. I have several."

"But...you're married," said Ballard. "To Richard," she added lamely.

"So what? I love My life with Richard, but I have certain appetites that no husband can satisfy."

"You mean you like women?" asked Ballard, abashed.

"Me?" Daphne laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not gay. I just like the feel of a well-trained feminine tongue, so I use my pussy slaves, but I never reciprocate. Been doing it since high school, actually. I just seem to have a talent for turning ordinary women into my pets. I find that straight women make the best pussy slaves, Kathleen, but I'll make an exception in your case."

Daphne snapped her fingers.

"Strip, Kathleen."

Ballard didn't move.

"Daphne, please, you're being ridiculous, I'm not going to be your slave."

"Of course you are, you silly goose. At least for today. It will amuse me to see my husband's bitchy ex-wife on her knees between my legs."

Ballard took a step back.

"No. It's not going to happen," said Ballard stiffly.

"Take off that silly dress, Kathleen. I keep all my pussy slaves naked when they service me."

"Your fucking crazy," shouted Ballard.

"You really made a mistake letting me in your office today, Kathleen. You should have just locked the door. It really is quite a cozy little locked-room drama we have going on here. As long as that door stays shut, you are safe, but if the outside world comes crashing in, you are well and truly fucked. That buzzing in your ass means I own you. There's no way you could possibly remove the plug before I can get Pippa in here. All I have to do is shout her name and it's over."

Ballard stood in silence for several seconds. Her mind was racing. She needed to buy some time, to stall. If she could just hold out until the battery died, she would be free. She decided to try to keep Daphne talking.

"You said you had other slaves. How many? Who are they?" she asked with false curiosity.

"I keep three or four at a time. Students, administrators, even fellow faculty. In fact, I have a slave in our own English department right now. Would you like me to call her? I bet you'd be very surprised to find out who it is."

Ballard crossed her arms.

"No thanks. I don't want to know," she said sullenly.

"Suit yourself," said Daphne dismissively. "Now quit stalling, Kathleen and kindly remove your dress."

"Daphne, please," whispered Ballard. "Don't do this."

The young blond picked up her phone.

"Do we really need to go through this charade again, Kathleen? Shall I call Pippa over now? How do you think she'd react to your plug and your whip marks?"

Ballard stared straight ahead and pondered her options. The plug droned on, louder than ever. Daphne was right. With her daughter in such close proximity, for as long as the battery lasted in the plug, she was cornered. The trap was temporary, but inescapable. She had no choice, but to obey.

Her last ember of resistance winked out. The older woman sighed and hung her head.

"What are you going to do with me?" Ballard asked docilely.

"I should think it would be obvious, Kathleen. First I'm going to inspect you as my potential property and then you are going to service my pussy with that smart mouth of yours."

Daphne walked up to Ballard and folded her arms. Again, the younger blond snapped her fingers.

"Now strip!" she barked.

Ballard didn't move for a few seconds, but then her right hand reached up and she began to unbutton the top of her dress. Then, she shrugged out of the thin shoulder straps and let the skimpy garment fall to the floor. She was naked underneath. She stepped out of the dress, picked it up off the floor, and folded it neatly before placing it on the nearby chair.

Ballard moved back to the center of the room and stood there, waiting for instructions. She tried to cover her breasts with her left arm and put her right hand over her vulva.

"Don't you dare hide yourself from me," hissed Daphne. "I assume you are familiar with the inspection position. Please assume it now."

Ballard immediately laced her hands behind her neck and stood up straight, spreading her legs greater than shoulder width apart. She thrust out her breasts and tilted her pelvis forward slightly to present her shaved pussy for inspection. She directed her gaze downward, her eyes on the floor.

Daphne circled Ballard slowly. She took her time, pausing occasionally to poke and prod or reach out to touch one of the many red welts that cross-crossed the surface of practically her entire body. Daphne noted that Ballard's breasts had received particularly brutal attention recently. Her back, ass, thighs and vulva were also cross-hatched with angry red marks.

"When were you last whipped, Kathleen?"

"This morning."

Daphne pulled her right arm back in a wide arc, then swatted Ballard on the right ass cheek as hard as she could. The older woman yelped, but did not move.

"Use the proper form, slut," said Daphne evenly.

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry ma'am. I was whipped this morning, ma'am. Caned actually. On my ass."

"Was there a reason? Were you being punished for anything in particular?" asked Daphne in a detached clinical tone.

"No, ma'am. It's just that I only recently began my training. My mistress has instructed that I be whipped daily. She says she wants to break me in properly."

"Quite right. She must be a very capable mistress for someone so young. Maybe I'll meet her one day," said Daphne.

Ballard swallowed hard, but said nothing.

Daphne turned to face Ballard, then stepped up to cup both breasts in her hands, weighing them appraisingly.

"You're udders are quite firm for a sow your age," said Daphne brusquely.

"Thank you, ma'am," said Ballard softly.

"Nice, big nipples too," said Daphne. She reached out grabbed both nubbins of flesh, twisting them cruelly back and forth for several seconds.

Ballard moaned, but didn't move.

"But I would have them pierced and stretched," she said releasing the nipples after one final tug. "These too," said Daphne reaching down with her right hand and pinching Ballard's outer pussy lips tightly between her thumb and forefinger.

Ballard grunted repeatedly as Daphne increased the pressure on her most sensitive area, twisting the lips now as she pinched and pulled.

Daphne put her mouth to Ballard's right ear as she continued to increase the force of her intimate grip on the hapless slave.

"Slave pussy should always be pierced," she whispered fiercely, before abruptly letting go.

Daphne again turned to face Ballard, then reached down and casually inserted the first two fingers of her right hand into the older woman's cunt.

"You're sopping wet, Kathleen," she said accusingly. "It looks like someone likes being treated like a slut."

Ballard looked down and away. Her face reddened.

"It's the plug, she whispered hoarsely.

"Sure it is Kathleen. Keep telling yourself that," said Daphne dismissively.

Daphne sawed her fingers in and out of professor Ballard's cunt for a few seconds. An audible sloshing sound could clearly be heard in the room, even over the loud buzzing sound of the plug.

Abruptly, Daphne withdrew her fingers and held them up to Ballard's mouth. "Clean off your goo, you disgusting whore."

Ballard opened her mouth and sucked the digits clean, then licked between the fingers, sucking up the excess fluid. Daphne removed her fingers roughly from Ballard's mouth, casually wiping them dry on the older professors face.

Daphne walked up to the front of Ballard's desk, then turned back to face her older colleague. She reached under her skirt with both hands and slowly and deliberately rolled her panties down her legs. The young blond stepped out of the skimpy thong and tossed it on the desk.