The Professor

Colleen spent the night, and Bridget visited me again on Monday evening, and that made my decision easy - I would try to keep both of them. I would miss the exuberance and lust (and, oh! that mouth) of Colleen and Bridget's perfect (and her yet to be truly explored) body too much to say goodbye to either of them. I resolved myself (poor me!) to the fact that I had both of them in my life for the time being.

I had an appointment with Heather scheduled for late Tuesday afternoon. She was stressed-out and there was no reason to prolong her agony over her grades, and I was going to let her off the hook. Even knowing that my coed selection had already been made for the year and she was no longer a possibility, Heather still made me silently gasp as she walked through the door, and I could see the truly radiant beauty that she was. Even with her eyes downcast and a frown on her face, she was gorgeous.

After she was seated, I explained that I had been watching her progress in class and on the essays and was very pleased with her effort. I told her that it was unusual, but that I was going to disregard her current grade, start from scratch, and give her a final grade based on her work for the remainder of the semester, and the final. To my surprise, she didn't smile or look relieved.

"I came in here expecting you to tell me that it was hopeless, and I might as well stop coming to class. Why are you doing this, Professor?"

"I just explained my position, Heather. I'm pleased with your progress and I respect your effort. Please don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

There was something I thought was fire in her eyes when she looked at me.

"And I guess I'll have to repay you for your kindness?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Heather. I think this meeting is over."

Her voice was trembling, but she stood and leaned forward on my desk.

"I know what you want. You men! You want me to give myself to you, don't you? You want me to surrender to you, so you can make me do disgusting and humiliating things for you."

To say I was shocked would be an understatement! Then, in a flash, I realized what was going on. In nearly 20 years of teaching, I had met only one truly submissive girl and my school year with her had been a little heaven on earth for me. If I was right, I was finding my second. I didn't want to loose this opportunity. Colleen and Bridget were forgotten for the moment.

"Have other men made you do disgusting and humiliating things, Heather?"

She nodded a tight nod.

"Yes. A teacher in my senior year and my boss at my summer job. It was just the same as it is now. The teacher threatened to flunk me and my boss threatened to fire me. I had to cooperate. I had to submit, or face the consequences."

"But, Heather, I haven't threatened you about your grades. Just the opposite."

She cried out in dismay,

"But, it IS the same!"

Quieter, she continued,

"Don't you understand? I know what you expect me to do to repay you for your `kindness.'"

"Heather, have you dated anyone on campus?"

She shook her head.

"Boys. They're all boys. They only want one thing and then they're gone."

I knew I had a beautiful young lady standing before me, and that she might have some head problems, but hey, I'm no psychiatrist. I preferred to think of it as her sexual preference and decided to "go for the gold." "Of course you're right, Heather. I do expect a lot from you. I think it's time your `extra-credit' work begins, don't you?" Meekly, she nodded.

"Lock my door and come bend over my desk."

When she did, I stood behind her and slowly raised her plaid wool skirt over her hips, exposing her white, cotton panties. My cock felt like it was about to burst out of my trousers, and I hurried to open them and let them fall to the floor. Heather looked back at me,

"Aren't you going to force me to kiss and lick your `thing,' and force me to suck it into my mouth?"

As tempting as the thought was, I wanted to fuck her. My cock was poised at her cunt, and I could feel her heat.

"Should I wear a condom, Heather?"

"Why are you asking me? Just take me the way you want me. Please!"

I wasn't gentle. I shoved my cock into her and pounded her hips into the edge of the desk. I was hot and so was she, groaning with every stroke. She soon began to come and I was surprised with its intensity.

"Use me! Fuck me! I'm a worthless slut, so fuck me hard!"

Maybe if I hadn't been building up to my own orgasm, I would have thought more about the severe hang-ups this girl had for being so young, but, instead, I enjoyed feeling my cock plow into her tight pussy, finally shooting its warm cum into her. When I was done, I pulled myself away and sat in my chair.

"Now, Heather. I want you to suck my sticky cock clean in that pretty little mouth of yours, right now."

She almost collapsed to her knees and positioned herself between my spread legs. She looked up at me, her eyes seeking mercy.

"Suck my cock, slut."

And she did. Then, and later, back at my house. That night I shot my cum in her mouth, her pussy and her ass. She called herself a slut and repeatedly earned her reputation. Between the sex, she told me about her bizarre adventures at the hands of her teacher and boss.

On the night after her eighteenth birthday, her high school English teacher ordered her to come to his office. He berated her for her falling grades and threatened her with an "F" that would ruin her chance at a scholarship. He suggested that she become his "special pupil." Heather said it was obvious what he was interested in, but, for the first time in her life, felt herself becoming sexually aroused. It was the teacher's forceful personality that was exciting her. She willingly submitted to him, and what followed were several months of bondage, domination, spankings and humiliating sex. Instead of reporting the teacher, Heather found herself hooked on him, impatient between rendezvous, welcoming his abuse. Their relationship ended soon after graduation, when the teacher moved out of state.

That Summer, she was working in a fast-food restaurant. Badly needing the money, she was working well over 40 hours a week. One night, after midnight, exhausted and helping the manager close up for the night, Heather dropped a large container of cooking oil, spilling it all over the floor. She said the manager "freaked out," yelling and screaming at her, calling her worthless, and firing her. He must have seen the spark he was igniting in her, because he grabbed another container of oil and poured it over her head. She stood there, dripping the pungent grease, humiliated.

"Take that uniform off. You don't deserve to wear it,"

he shouted at her. She unbuttoned it and let it fall to the oil-covered floor. Her bra and panties were soaked through and darkly transparent.

"And those,"

he pointed. Her bra and panties fell to the floor.

"Now clean this mess up!"

Heather got a bucket and a de-greasing cleaner and began to scrub the floor on her hands and knees. She said she was totally degraded - naked, her tits swaying and bouncing with her exertion, the oil dripping from her hard nipples, her ass in the air. Soon, her boss was behind her. She felt him slip his prick into her cunt as he poured more oil over her bare back. Heather's orgasm was immediate and so intense, she collapsed. Her boss rolled her over on to her back and re-entered her, this time pouring the warm oil on her tits as he fucked her. Heather said she was resigned to her "perverted sexuality" from that night on. Her boss assigned her the "shit" jobs at the restaurant and berated her, constantly. Whenever he felt like it, he would call her into his tiny office, and have her suck him off or bend over as he fucked her cunt or ass. He was always rough and callous with her, and she loved it. One night, her boss took her out back and watched the two big, black deliverymen fuck her in the cab of their truck, and several times, ordered her over to his apartment and she was used and abused by him and his four poker buddies for hours. She left the restaurant the day she left for college and had an abortion the week after school started.

Now, she was naked in my bed and was telling me she was glad she found me, that she needed me. My sane, rational mind was saying that I should put as much distance between myself and this lovely, but very screwed up, girl. That she was carrying more baggage than I wanted to get involved with. However, at that moment, she again lowered her hot, wet mouth over my hardening cock, and I forgot all my good resolutions.

What a year! My schedule began to look like an old "bedroom farce" movie, but I managed. Of course, all three girls received "A's" for both semesters, but I hope they got more than just a good grade from their experience. Bridget flowered into a dynamic lover, relaxing and enjoying all the pleasures I could show her. She became quite adept at the skills of love, giving slow, sexy handjobs, and actually savoring my cock with her mouth. I knew I was going to miss her and her luscious body, and I have. Colleen finally admitted to herself that she was feeling infatuation and not love. We enjoyed each other's company for most of the year - until Spring Break, when she returned from the islands "in love" with a junior. Our final fuck was sweet and tender. She thanked me for making her feel special and helping her enjoy her freshman year. I thanked her for her discretion, fond feelings, and helping me to enjoy her freshman year, too. Finally, there was Heather - probably the most beautiful girl ever to grace one of my classrooms. I soon learned that I didn't have what it took to satisfy her needs for debasement and humiliation. I played at bondage for her, but I wasn't cruel enough. I couldn't bring myself to spank her, and I certainly wasn't going to invite the marching band to join us in bed.

She drifted away from me, and I let her - hell, I welcomed it. But, I did follow her adventures through my student and graduate assistant contacts. She soon became a campus legend - entertaining entire Frats in one evening, taking on the whole basketball team at a party, fucking the swim team in the locker room. Unwilling to see her doing that to herself, I talked her into seeking therapy. Through a friend, I arranged for an off-campus shrink to see her and bill me. I think the therapy may have helped. When she was going home in the Spring, she stopped by to thank me for my concern. She said that her therapist had recommended someone in her home town, and that she was not going back to her old job. I told her I was glad to hear she was on an oil-free diet, and we both laughed.

The Summer is finally over and classes are about to begin. I can't wait!