Sydian: The Grad Dresser

***

‘So….what do I need to do?' His question was wistful…. Sydd looked up over her reading glasses and some undecipherable scientific tome; Avia glanced up from the crossword.

Sydd spoke first…. ‘First you need to develop another persona—not a replacement for who you are—more so a playmate. And you need to be comfortable with that playmate. And soon. Right?' He nodded. ‘What size shoe do you wear?'

He muttered ‘Eight.'

‘Hmmmm. Never would have known it judging by the size of the equipment. But, no problem there. In record time, you've got to master five-inch stilettos—less than a week, Jr…. Finally,' she continued, ‘You've got to learn to suck Avia, at least as well as she sucked you….' Flashing a grin, ‘Avia, you up for it, Babe?'

Avia giggled, ‘Always, Big Sis….'

‘Well, it's after midnight; we can't get shoes til tomorrow—I'll pick up something at lunch—sooooo, you two might as well get started on the real lesson….Call me if you need me, I don't want to be a distraction. Jr., I'm afraid you're gonna have a sore jaw in the morning, but I think you'll learn to love it. Avia, be easy. A good teacher is a loving teacher. Of course, you've already been taught that….' With a wink, Sydd was treading the long hall to her bedroom….

Avia stood, undid the knot to her sweats and let them cascade to her ankles. She was already hard. Anticipation and a sincere fondness for her pupil….he stared at her crotch til she spoke. ‘Hey,' she said softly. ‘Listen up! Go to the bathroom. Bring back the mirror, a tube of the reddest lipstick, and a thingy of gloss….' Confused, he nodded, got to his feet and allowed his gaze to linger on the ‘twins' that had greeted him on their very first meeting. Her thick nipples were pushing relentlessly against the thin material of the tank-top. She glanced from them to him, her cock bobbing, giggled and said, ‘Go!' he went, trying to make sense of it all…and more…. ‘Bring a couple of towels!' she yelled behind him…..

As he entered the room, she pulled the top over her head again and let it rest on the back of her neck, framing her shoulders and shoulder-blades….showing how superbly toned she was. She caught him staring again. ‘I know. I'm a show-off….' She crooked a finger at him. She took a towel, spread it in the seat of the chair Sydd had vacated…. She motioned for him to spread the other towel at the foot of the chair and to put down the gear…. ‘One minute!' she said, and dashed from the room….in less time, she reappeared, a pair of bright red stiletto pumps over her shoulder. ‘OK,' she grinned….she sat down, eased her feet into each. The effect on her arch went up the calves to the thighs and ass, and even as she sat, manifested itself in that cock, which she perched on the edge of the seat….he could only stare…

Mouth open…. ‘That might be a good start,' she quipped. ‘But that's not the technique we want to achieve…. Remember anything about this evening?' He nodded. ‘Might as well make yourself comfortable,' she motioned to his robe. He let it drop. She whistled. And gave him a wink. She pointed and he kneeled between her thighs. ‘Back a bit,' she directed….

‘The mirror….' He handed it to her. ‘No, Silli…. Not for me. For you.' Again a look of total confusion…. She laughed…. ‘Put on your lipstick…. Remember? "Persona"; "lesson?" Those are all part of it…. If a girl's gonna suck this cock, she better be fine; and she better be ready…. Lipstick, please'….Avia's cock bobbed in accord….

After a couple of tries, ‘Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it. In fact, you've done pretty good.' He looked in the mirror. ‘Not bad,' in the back of his head, then something he never expected, he felt it in his cock, too….

‘Come here, Lover,' she said…. ‘School time…..'

He opened his mouth wide—as wide as he could to accommodate her thickness…. ‘No. No. No. she said softly; stopping him. ‘You don't remember, do you? The object here is control….enough control to even make this cock'—she pointed—‘cum when you want it to.' Then she winked. ‘O yeah, you can do it, if you practice…. So think back on this evening. What happened for you?'

He sat back on his haunches, look up at her, and genuinely smiled for the first time that day. Then he puckered up. Made a tight, tight ‘O,' slid his hand beneath her balls and locked his thumb and forefinger in a manual cock-ring. ‘O!' she winced. ‘You are a quick study….' He forced the head of her cock through the amazing small opening he had made of his thickly glossed lips….

Like she had, he took as much as he could after forcing her through that tightness. Unlike Avia, he gagged. She giggled, then, stifled herself. He came up for air, then attacked her again; same tight-mouth technique, only tighter. This time, she squirmed when he forced her through. This time, he didn't bother to go all the way down. He clamped on to the head, teeth just beneath the ridge of the crown…. Now she really squirmed; even cursed under her breath…. This time she tried to buck; and this time he held her powerful thighs down so he could control….

She was panting and thrashing, and he was enjoying himself too much to notice…. Her arms came up from the chair side and grabbed the back of his neck. Her hands clamped the back of his head and forced the length of her cock to the back of his throat. Held him, and fucked his face, royally…. She slid in and out of those coated lips. She cussed and spoke to the goodness of his hot mouth—she even called him ‘Bitch!'…. Then she gave him her cream…. Thrust up into his mouth, two, three more times, and collapsed back in Sydd's chair….

He sat back, looking at her. She roused herself. Bent forward to gently kiss him—his lipstick mussed (as it should be)—to taste herself…. ‘You did good, Boo,' she purred, out of breath….

The voice from the door, ‘Good…. But you lost control…. Try again. When you can….' Sydd went back to bed…..

***

There was much practice that week. Howling in high heels as he first staggered from room to room. Then praise as his competence increased. ‘Look. You won't wear the damn things the time. They're mostly ceremonial—the way all fetish is…. The key is to become skilled enough in them to be comfortable, and therefore, convincing when you do….' There was lipsticking and glossing…. And then of course, there was all the attention he paid to Avia's cock—not to mention the attention she hadgiven his in the week he had spent at Sydd's. The two of them shared a sumptuous bed….

‘Sydd,' Avia said…breathless for the umpteenth time, ‘He is soooooo good! You ought to try him, Girl!' Sydd looked from Avia to him—he tonguing his lips like some over-indulged cat—‘tomcat,' at that, as Sydd glanced at that hard thick rod between he's thighs in need of attention—and back to Avia.

‘I considered that, Pretti. But, I think I'm gonna pass. However, judging the state of things, you'd better take care of all that goodness he's got for you.' Another wink for both of them. ‘We've got a date for Friday with a very important professor….'

***

‘Alright, Dahlins,' Sydd began in her mother's exaggerated southern drawl, ‘It's prep time. But first, a phone-call….' It was late Thursday afternoon; the three of them crowded round the speaker-phone in the living room. The clouds—they seemed almost at window height—were that ponderous gray with black linings and purple undersides. The capricious nature of spring weather clearly manifested. Sydd pulled the card from her folio; dialed the number.

Two rings, the voice on the other end, caustic and short: ‘Yes?!'

He froze at the sound. Sydd, all honey and hemlock: ‘Professor Cragg,' O, too sweetly…. ‘you've given me your card on so many occasions, I suppose it's time I put it to good use….'

‘Who the hell is this?'

‘Mmmmmmm, HH, I love it when you're forceful….' She let it trail off all breathless and frothy….At ‘HH', Cragg's voice showed a glimmer of cognition….which ‘girl' of all those he fancied? ‘Mmmmmm, HH, maybe I need to jog your memory. I remember that big thing of yours between my ass-cheeks last Friday, and surely you remember stroking my big, pretty chocolate candy while you pinched my nipples…. And the things you said….' Sydd let her voice trail off; Avia was trying hard not to have a giggling fit. All he could do was glare….

There was a pause—a long one—‘What did I say, my dear?....'

‘Mmmmm, Professor, you said you would do anything for a piece of my fine black ass; though, you actually indicated that it was my pretty mouth you really liked. Tell me Professor, you really like black women's mouths, don't you?'

An awkward silence, again. A clearing of the throat, and then over what seemed to be labored breathing, a hoarse, croaking ‘Yes.'

Avia whispered, ‘I'll be damned, the old muthafucka is jacking right now….' Sydd shot a finger to her lips, and Avia smothered a laugh in her hand….

‘So Professor…that is quite a proposition. Surely, you don't mean ‘anything?' ‘

Well, my dear….within reason….'

‘Hmmmmmm….within reason, Professor?'

‘Yes….that is what I just said. I am willing to pay handsomely for your, er, services….'

‘So, HH, when was the last time a woman as fine as me, with my ‘equipment' showed you the pleasures of her mouth?' The silence on the other end was painful. Sydd wouldn't let up…. ‘My mouth is exquisite, Professor….' They thought there was a slight groan over the line…. ‘And I have this extremely bad habit: cock as big as yours makes me lick my lips over and over. And then, you know, I have to pull out my lipstick and gloss and coat them all over again…. I suppose you'd call me an ‘oralist,' huh Professor?' Throat clearing on the other end—more a moan….

‘Name your price, bitch….' More plea than command ….

‘Really Professor?' The ‘yes' was croaked; there was a certain sexual anguish to it…. ‘Hmmmmm. HH, tell me, how many students will you fail this semester?'

‘What?' He sounded shocked; thrown off guard…. ‘Why?'

She simply repeated herself: ‘How many students will you fail this semester? My lips want to know. My mouth and tongue are curious….'

He could be heard to swallow on the other end. ‘Half of the undergraduates; possibly a third of the grads,' he answered shallowly….

‘You're hard, aren't you Professor?' Double entendre, terribly purposeful. ‘Is it out? Take it out. I want it.' This time, there was nothing disguised in the moan…. ‘Mmmmmmm, yes Professor; I think my mouth really wants your big cock….' Another moan—(was that ‘O god, yes' in that gasp?)…. ‘Can you meet my terms, HH?'

‘Anything. Anything.'Cragg panted….

‘No, not anything,' Sydd responded coolly and sweetly, ‘just this. For every ‘F' you intend at the undergraduate level, a passing mark. And for your grad students—what the hell—an "A." How's that sound? Hmmm. You need to tell me quick. I need to rush out and get a fresh supply of lipstick and gloss for that big dick….'

There was a sound on the other end like the phone hitting the floor. It was quickly retrieved. HH was breathless. ‘When? How? Grades are due tomorrow at 5:00 pm!' He sounded frantic—about getting his cock sucked, that is.

Sydd, cool as ever: ‘See you at 3:30, in your office—I understand it's big and nice. Be sure to have your paperwork done. And have a student who can run it over to the registrar's—we don't want to be interrupted, do we? Once more, you do like pretty black mouths, don't you?' Sydd didn't wait for an answer: ‘See ya….' Click….

***

‘Prep time!' she announced; this time in earnest. ‘Take him Avia. You know what to do!'

Avia took him by the hand and led him down the hall to the guest bath the two of them shared. She stripped him—always much to her delight—this time, to his bewilderment. Then, in an equally bewildering move, se peeled out of her clothing as well. When the shower was steaming, she opened the door…. ‘In you go,' she ordered, with a firm, possessive push on his butt-cheek…. She turned to the whirlpool, began to fill it and dumped in the bath-salts. Then she grabbed her razor and eased into the shower with him….

She got behind him and began to soap him with some wonderful fragrance…. His mind wandered to ‘loving this for ever….'

‘You like this, Boo?' She whispered, tip-toed, in his ear. He sighed, nodded…. Her soaped hands slipped round his waist to his front; slid along the pelvic ridge and down to his cock….she took him in both hands and began to soap…. She felt him grow thick and heavy. As she hefted his full balls in her soapy palm, the fully erect cock slapped up to his belly…. Another sigh, ‘Mmmmmmm,' softly. She let her hands glide up to his pecs, nuzzled her head between his shoulder blades and breathed him in; involuntarily he backed up against her. She was hard and he began to grind. ‘I'll take it soon enough,' she thought to herself….then, she said dreamily in his ear—on tip-toes, again—‘When you're ready, Baby; when you're ready….'

Mindful of her task, she pinched his nipples before her hand slid back down to the hard, soapy cock…. With her free hand she located the razor. Sliding down the soapy shaft, she raised the balls and began an upward stroke from the inside of his crotch to the base of his balls….in what seemed like seconds, his pubes and cock were completely hairless, as were his upper thighs and the area leading to the crack of his ass…. She made him raise his arms, and ‘assume the position' as steamy water ran over the two of them. His armpits shorn, thighs, ass and cock done, she rinsed him…. Turned off the shower and led him out….

Sydd opened the door, and for a moment just stared at the two of them; then looked at Avia and nodded. She crossed from the door and raised his hard cock and stroked it, handled his balls….then she said to both of them, ‘He's beautiful.' His cock still in her soft grasp, ‘Possibly, some rules just have to be broken,' she winked and Avia beamed. ‘Stuff to do….' And she was gone….

Avia pointed to the tub, and he stepped in. it was all so surreal…. He hadn't asked questions; he hadn't protested. He simply followed their instructions. He immersed himself in the oiled tub. Avia sat on the edge, soaped his face and shaved what little hair that might have been there….she moisturized his face and left him to soak for a few minutes….

‘So….do we need to arch his brows?' she asked.

‘No, we'll pencil them.'

‘What about the hair?'

‘Hmmmmm…good question. Get a couple of wigs, O.K., Hun?'

They worked on his face, simultaneously trying different wigs—short, medium, long—lots of colors—nothing worked—at least not the way the two of them wanted…. He was becoming frustrated; it was 1:30.

‘Make him one of us!' Sydd arched her eyebrows—‘Brilliant!' and kissed Avia.

‘Just what does that mean?' he asked, looking from one to the other. It seemed as though he hadn't spoken in years—or at least since they had begun the process….

‘It means that we've solved the hair crisis, Sweets….' ‘And….' ‘We're not going to do anything to it; we're going to leave it alone….' He glanced in the mirror panic-stricken….

His face was flawless—absolutely beautiful. He hardly recognized himself. His eyes were a marvel. Their artistry had shaped and colored them; arched eyebrows where none existed. Color sculpted the rest of his face subtly—bridge, cheek bones, jaw and chin—exquisite. Then the mouth…. The mouth—his mouth—was almost ‘unmentionable.' It was—literally—‘too beautiful.' All he could think, as he looked at it, was that it was meant to be used….then he looked at his head and that mass of unkempt, un-combed naps, and he panicked….

‘You….you…you can't leave me like this. You've got to do something!' he stammered….

Sydd almost fell off her seat; Avia was overcome by a fit of giggles…. ‘No. No, you poor thing. We're not going to you like that,' Sydd laughed. Avia and I, both like the texture and shape of what's going on there, and earrings will balance it out….'

‘You do? They will?'

‘Yep. But we do need something else…. Eh, Avia?'

‘Agreed. But what?'

‘Hmmmm…..' Sydd looked round the room and back at him. ‘What did you pick out for him to wear, Avia,' Sydd asked, staring intently at his hair…. ‘The short, white Chinese tunic—the tight one—white hose, and white cum-fuck-me's'….. ‘Hmmmmm…. O.K… Got it! Here's what we do…. Look in the cabinet. There's some black and some blue spray dyes…. Bring them and a couple of towels. We're going to make the hair completely black, and then blue the tips—‘You, Sir, are going to be one stunning bitch….'

She was right. In heels, two maybe three inches taller than the other two, he looked like a high fashion model. That was their intent. They were not about the exit in the company of a hoochie…. He was a dark-bronze color—no where as dark as Sydd, but darker than Avia….the face was a head turner, even with the big sunglasses….and the hair—his crowning glory—no pun intended; another tribute to Sydd and Avia's genius….

Sydd called down for a car. Last minute instructions. ‘When we get there, it's virtually your show. I'd advise you not to talk. The way you look now he won't recognize you, but if you open your mouth—that is to speak,' she chuckled, ‘you might blow it—and not in the way we intend…. O yeah, don't look like that…. You will have to suck his cock—that seals our part of the deal….'

Avia chimes in: ‘It won't be so bad, Boobi…. Just remember everything I taught you and all we practiced…. If nothing else, pretend its me fucking that pretty face…. Here, take these….' She placed two condoms in his newly manicured hand, and gave him a peck on the cheek…. ‘They're flavored….' She gave him a peck on the cheek—didn't want to muss his make up….

The phone rang. ‘Car's here. Shall we go?'

***

He and Avia slid into the back seat; Sydd climbed in next to the driver. The black cat suit, short black leather jacket, the five inch black ankle-boot, and the attitude must have said she was in charge….though the driver would never pick up on it, she was ‘un-harnessed'—the only thing between 11+ inches of cock and an adoring public, was a thin layer of spandex. She was packing and packed…. Call it a motivator, an incentive, for HH. It would certainly be the first thing he would notice…. ‘Where to, Ms?'

‘The University, please….'

Avia shifted in her black, vested pin-striped, business suit. Of course the skirt was scandalously short, but the long jacket obscured that when necessary. The starched white blouse—three buttons undone, and lots of cleavage—lent itself to an image of corporate exotica—they'd be lining up to work under her. Her stockings were charcoal seams, Cuban-heeled—a habit acquired from Sydd. Her pumps, five-inch stilettos, were black and white spectators. The copper-topped one complemented all this with gray lenses….

The center of attention was in the ‘white Chinese' as they put it….brocaded, high collared, dragon-motifed spandex, short, with modest splits. The hose were white, as were his opened toed, closed-back, five-inch pumps. Over this was a white silk duster….

The total image: a stylish aunt and two equally stylish nieces paying a visit to campus—the ‘admissions tour' possibly? Who would know?....

***

They strode into the office. Sydd paced to the desk; motioned the other two to sit. The secretary looked up; mildly alarmed—startled. The creature was black, incredibly beautiful, commanding. ‘Yes?' the secretary managed.

Sydd flashed the amazing smile. ‘We have an appointment with Professor Cragg.' Before the ‘and you are' could be registered, Sydd had turned an imperious back on the woman and crossed the room to seat herself with her gorgeous ‘charges'….

‘Your 3:30 is here, Professor.'