University Pleasures Ch. 07

Disclaimer: the following is a work of fiction. It may contain scenes of violence, bondage and/or sexual situations which may or may not be consensual, and is intended for adult readers only. All characters portrayed in this story are adults. This work in not for profit and is intended as entertainment only. The author does not support or encourage violence or humiliation towards women or anyone. Characters in this story are fictional and not based on any person living or dead, and are not meant to infringe on any existing characters in other literatures.

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It was, to put it plainly, another fantasy fulfilled - one that Tom had never even anticipated or thought of before it had been displayed before him. Now that it had come to pass, now that its reality was known to him, it would be impossible to forget, not that he would ever want to.

Wakefulness had hit Tom on that Wednesday morning around ten in the morning. At first, the previous day's emotions had left him confused, until the memories started to resurface. Sex. More sex. Even more sex.

Tom rose quickly and headed for the computer, starting to compile the data from the previous date.

"Inventory fetishist," he heard Myriam's voice at the back of his mind.

He stopped writing. Yes, he might enjoy rereading these items later, but there were more important things to do. He retrieved his phone and sent a message to Dana: she was first on his mental list.

TOM: Good morning. I slept wonderfully, thanks to you.

He went about his business, shower, breakfast, a clean set of clothes as if he were going to university to teach - just like Myriam had asked. In the process, Dana answered.

DANA: Morning yourself. Mine was relaxing but weird.

DANA: Tell you about my dreams in person.

DANA: Have fun today. Love U

TOM: I love you too.

This short exchange drew a big smile to Tom's lips; he finished putting away the dishes in the sink before texting Myriam.

TOM: What time again?

The answer took some time. Tom returned to his computer to idle away the time playing some game, waiting for an answer.

MYRIAM: Noonish. Wear something formal.

TOM: Already done.

MYRIAM: You're the best, stud-muffin!

The nickname made him grin, just like every time she had used it. Tom played on his computer for a while, fidgeting on the spot, anticipating the day with a febrile countenance that reminded him of younger days. He understood exactly what Dana meant when she told him she felt younger around him; he shared the same sentiment when frequenting Myriam and her friends.

His ride arrived - he climbed into Tina's car as she drove away.

"Hungry?" she asked him.

"Yup."

"We'll get some salads from a place I know. I'm offering."

"Okay."

They picked up the food (salads for everyone who would be there, apparently - Tina had a list) and drove on, with Tina keeping quiet about their destination. Tom didn't inquire. At some point, Tina did speak up to perhaps get the ball rolling.

"Are you looking forward to today?"

"Yes... I hope no one's mad at me for bailing last night."

"Please, Tom," Tina giggled; her small breasts bounced as she did. "With everything else you did yesterday, you earned a rest. We can be overwhelming."

Tom giggled as well, agreeing with the sentiment.

"You also weren't in control most of the time," Tina added.

"True," he answered.

"Well... I can tell you that today, you're pretty much gonna be in charge."

She added nothing but a grin, rolling onward to their destination. They turned into the parking lot a local high school. It was empty. Tom glanced around, puzzled.

"Don't worry," Tina said. "School's out this week. Remember?"

"Aren't there teachers still working?" he asked.

It was the case for university: just because the students were off didn't mean the teacher stopped grading or prepping. Tina said nothing. They exited the vehicle and headed for the main door to the offices.

The place was deserted.

"This is weird," Tom said.

"Only thing weird is that the school is closed. Renovations."

"Hang on... this school doesn't have students?"

"Nope. And it's actually pending sale or destruction. You can thank Amanda for it too."

Tom stared incredulously at Tina.

"Amanda's the realtor for a school sale?"

"Well, her company is. This place doesn't get visitors often."

"And we can just waltz in and take over the place?"

"As long as we clean up after ourselves..."

Tom couldn't argue anymore; he followed Tina to the teacher's lounge. It was around 12:40 now. She handed him his salad.

"So... here's the deal. Myriam was supposed to do this but she got detained, so I'm giving you the instructions."

"I'm listening," he spoke as he sat down, retrieving the bowl from the small woman.

"You have class at 1:00. Room 203, second floor. Be on time - not late, and certainly not early."

He winked as he listened and commented.

"I'm teaching."

"Yep."

Tom's eyes widened as he began to understand more of the game that was about to be played. Tina, noticing his reaction, could not help but grin.

"Wanna play?"

"Yes."

"See you in twenty."

The wait proved atrocious. The salad was delicious, but Tom ate it within five minutes, and then, he could do nothing but impatiently walk about. He suspected what would await him in room 203 but could not be certain. To keep himself occupied, he inspected the teacher's lounge. It was a mess. No cleaning staff had come here for a while. This bothered Tom slightly; the dirty look of the place was not appealing at all. He wondered what the classroom would look like with this little maintenance.

The hands on the clock moved much too slowly for his taste.

When it was two minutes to one, Tom walked out with his salad tray and ustensils; he had been told to clean up after himself. In the hall near the stairs going up, he found an obvious trash bag containing other salad trays. He dumped his own tray inside and walked up the stairs. As he reached the second floor, his eyes looked for the right door. A murmur of voices echoing in the empty school reached his ears; it reminded him of students whispering before class. The anticipation of what awaited him made Tom shiver. It was the same feeling as his first ever class, only stronger because of the sexual expectations that came with it.

Resolutely, Tom headed for the door and opened it.

The sight that greeted him was more erotic than he could even imagine, and none of the women in the room were even close to naked. True, they showed some skin, but nothing that Tom had never seen before. It was the setting they had chosen that turned him on instantly.

The first item Tom noticed was how clean the room was; he could only speculate that someone, perhaps the girls themselves, had cleaned it intentionally. If they didn't want to play in a dirty room, it made sense. The fact they had gone to this length pleased and teased Tom immensely.

His eyes didn't linger long on the room itself and quickly traveled from person to person. Almost all of those he expected to meet were there, and they were all dressed in the same fashion, a typical private schoolgirl uniform: from bottom up, black shoes, long white socks up to their knees, matching plaid skirts perhaps shorter than traditional, white short-sleeved blouses, black neckties, all long hair tied up in pony tails. They were seated at their desks, staring at him. Some even wore glasses for effect. There was even a girl he had never met, not that this was unexpected.

"Good afternoon, mister Brown," they all chanted in unison.

This was more than a game: this was roleplay! It wasn't cosplay but it didn't have to be to turn Tom on. He had never imagined such a scene before - yet, it was oddly reminiscent of a dream he now recollected from several nights ago. Premonition? He didn't believe in such things. The main difference was he could make out everyone's name and faces.

There were twelve desks in the room, four rows of three. The girls had written their names on cardboard and placed it on their desks. As Tom moved to get to the front of the room, waving silently with his head and acknowledging their greeting, he read in his mind the names in order, from left to right, starting with the first row. Then, his instincts for the game kicked in.

"All right... calling for attendance," he said.

As he read aloud the names on the desks, the girls acknowledged his call with an utterance of 'present'. Even the names of some of the missing women were written, as if they were regular participants but were missing this day. There was obviously no reply when he called them out.

In the front row were the gorgeous African-American Aisha, an empty desk with Amanda's name, the overly sexual hispanic Mariella and the new girl, whose name was Isis. Tom would have met her last night had he not chosen to go home.

Tom took a moment to check her out. She definitely had middle-eastern features, gorgeous black hair, dark eyes, a tan complexion, and a smile to melt all hearts. She lowered her head as he stared at her; somehow, this turned Tom on even more.

In the second row lineup were an empty desk with Lea's name, then the petite brown-haired Tina, the lanky blonde Thea and another empty desk holding Lois' name.

Finally, in the back row, in the two middle spots were Myriam and Rebecca, acting nonchalant, obviously playing the class' bad girls.

Tom leaned over his desk and saw a closed laptop and a sheet of paper with a few notes on it: instructions for the game. As the girls stared him down, he took a moment to see the note, written by Myriam.

Hello Mister Brown,

As you demanded, I did my homework and planned the class for you. I hope I get a good grade for this (or at least a good fuck).

The laptop is for tracking our results in today's activity. All our cellphones are connected to it. All the quiz questions are on it as well: the projector doesn't work so you'll have to read them aloud.

I would suggest you start by getting the new student to introduce herself, then ease us in to the trivia game.

Of course, you get to decide what sanctions to enact if we fall behind in scoring. If you look in the desk drawers, you'll notice a few implements to assist you in that respect, should you wish to use them. I know my fellow students wouldn't object.

Finally, be aware there's a good chance the supervisor may drop by today, so make sure you satisfy everyone's needs. Your own evaluation may depend on it.

Tom pulled the drawer open: dildos, vibrators, a paddle, feathers, cuffs. He grinned and closed the drawer back.

"All right, students," he said. "I'd like us to greet our new classmate. Isis, if you'll stand and introduce yourself."

Isis complied, acting shy as she rose to her feet and turned to face the class.

"Hello all," she spoke with a middle-eastern accent, confirming Tom's earlier assessment. "My name is Isis Façal. I come from Turkey and have been living in America for three years now. I am 21. I am eager to learn from teacher Tom... I mean mister Brown. I have heard good things about you."

"I'm eager to teach you," Tom responded with as much innuendo. "Please take your seat."

As she sat down, Tom flipped the computer screen up. It lit up with a spreadsheet with all of the girl's names, connected to some internet links. The instructions on how to use were there. Quite simple, in fact.

"All right... take out your cellphones."

They complied, pulling them from purses and bags and producing them onto their desk.

"Well," Tom continued, "we have a surprise quiz today."

The girls feigned shock and surprise, throwing in a few complaints and raising their voices. Tom took this cue to slam his hand on the table.

"Quiet!"

The discipline play worked its magic; all the girls shut down and stared forward, straightening in their chairs. The empowerment of the scene was intoxicating. Tom's heart beat steadily in his heart and he could feel it up his neck.

"We're having the quiz," he spoke sternly, "and if I hear more peeps, I will have to start punishing people. You don't want that."

It was obvious the girls were as much into it as he was, yet keeping everyone's cool wasn't even difficult.

"Now," Tom spoke, "open your phones and log into the polling app."

A lot of planning had gone into this game. If indeed Myriam had organized it, Tom could think of several ways to reward her personally. Tom watched the schoolgirls organize themselves. Tom went into the spreadsheet connected to the app and activated the first ten trivia questions programmed into it.

"Answer the next questions correctly. We'll tally points at the end. We'll handle this as an elimination round. The lowest score - or scores - will be penalized."

And so Tom ran through all the questions out loud. It was a multiple choice type answer sheet that automatically compiled results. The trivia questions were also random, drawn from a trivia website. A good deal of programming had gone into this, and none of the girls had such skills, as far as Tom knew. Perhaps Isis? There was no way to know at this time.

Within two minutes, all answers were in and compiled and Tom could see the results. The two top scorers were Mariella and Myriam with 7 on 10; Rebecca was at the bottom with only 3 right answers. Tom called on her and she rose.

"Well?" he asked her. "Didn't you study for class?"

"Nope," she replied, playing her defiant character.

"And why not?"

"Cause I was too busy fucking."

The girls all laughed at her quip but Tom kept his cool, adding to the scene with a booming voice.

"Quiet!"

He stared Rebecca down.

"Come up here right now!" he ordered her.

She shuffled seductively to the front as he opened the drawer, pulling out the paddle and setting it on his desk. When she reached him, he grabbed her by the shoulder and bent her over the desk, on the side opposite the computer. He grabbed the paddle with one hand, lifting her skirt with the other.

"You got seven wrong answers, so that's seven paddles," he improvised.

"Oh... please don't. Not again."

"You'd rather sex than studying," he added. "I can accommodate you but on my own terms."

And he slapped her ass once; she yelped. Tom hoped he wasn't striking too hard. He could see her face get flushed from the rush.

"That was the demonstration. Girls, count with me."

They did; for every number they called, from 1 to 7, the paddle struck Rebecca's butt. Her white panties could not hide the red swelling that came from it. Even as he worked her, Tom checked to make sure she was willing. She never once gave sign of wanting him to stop. When the last paddle hit, she yelped.

"Aw... I'm sorry, mister Brown. I'll be good. I'll behave."

"There," he said, putting the paddle and caressing her swollen cheeks gently. "Isn't that much better?"

"Yes, mister Brown."

He leaned in, kissing her buttcheeks lightly before helping her rise. She wobbled back to her desk, a grin on her face despite the pain in her behind.

"Do we need a break?" Tom asked.

"No," Myriam answered at the back. "We're good."

"All right. We're going to do another round of five questions. Rebecca, you recover for now."

"Yes, mister Brown."

She didn't fully sit down; instead, she propped one knee on her desk chair to spare her behind from more pain from sitting.

Tom ran through a new series of questions, keeping the previous scores but tallying these new ones in a new column. There were ex equo scores between the top and bottom positions. Because this was an elimination contest, Tom called a tie-breaker between the lowest rung, Isis and Myriam. The first one to speak was Isis, and she got it right. Myriam feigned reluctance as she rose.

"What's my penalty, teach?"

"Good question, Myriam. Please walk to the front desk."

She made her way forward; he turned her around to face the rest of the class as he sat her on the edge and pulled her legs apart. She also wore white panties. Tom reached into the drawer and pulled out a small round vibrator with a remote control.

"Hands on your knees," he told her.

She complied; he went around and slipped the round item underneath her panties, pressing it gently into her opening.

"Adjust it for comfort," he ordered her.

She didn't hesitate. Tom then handed the remote to Isis, the student who had beaten her in the toss-up.

"Here you go. Myriam, you are at the mercy of our new student. She may pace you at her leisure. You can go back to your seat."

Isis grinned as she instantly turned the device on to full power; Myriam jolted as she trudged her way back to her desk, her sex now under the power of her friend and the vibrator.

"Oh! By the way, Myriam, you're still playing. And Rebecca, please rejoin the game."

Isis set the remote aside, powering it to a lower setting for the moment; everybody could hear it vibrating as Myriam settled back in her seat, sweat forming on her brow.

The third round also had five questions; Myriam kept moaning softly every time Isis twitched with the speed. It drew laughs which Tom hastily quieted with his stern teacher's voice. This time, Tina didn't even get one answer right. She bowed her head shamefully.

"I'm so sorry, mister Brown. Please don't punish me!"

"I have to, Tina. It's the rules of the class."

Her feigned anxiety was beautifully acted; she rose to her feet and crawled forward to the class. Tom had her face the board with her hands on it; he then ordered her to undo her dress and drop her underwear to her ankles, full exposing her bum. She complied, exposing herself to the class, drawing 'oohs' and 'aahs' in the process.

"You stay in that position until I tell you otherwise."

"Yes, mister Brown," she faintly answered.

The other girls stared forward at Tina's exposed behind even as she played her part to perfection. A moan from the back of the class told everyone that Myriam was still being teased between her legs.

"Quiet, Myriam," Tom ordered her. "Unless you're looking for more punishment."

"Sorry... mister Brown."

"And you, Isis," Tom looked at her with remote in hand, "be kind to your classmate or she may get to take it out on you."

"Yes sir. Sorry sir."

The new girl's playacting was as quick as any other girl's. Tom shivered as he appreciated the control this simulation provided him with. He wasn't nearly done with the game, though his need to escalate this towards greater sexual ventures made his body tingle. He rushed to the next series of trivia for the six playing girls.

"Looks like Thea gets the lowest score," Tom called it after the five questions were done. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"It's rigged?" the tall blonde argued with a shrewd smile.

"Are you accusing me of making you fail?"

She gulped down her saliva. Tom motioned her to stand.

"I don't like the implication of what you said," he told her. "I think it needs to be punished."

He reached down into the drawer and retrieved the handcuffs. He walked up to Thea and stared her down. He then slapped her ass once, bending her tall figure over the desk. He pulled her skirt down, exposing lacy pink underwear.

"Highly irregular," he commented before pulling them down.

With a second exposed behind in the class, the girls chatted a bit; this time, Tom let them. He pulled Thea's hands behind her back and cuffed her wrists together, pushing her upper body against the desk, parting and straightening her legs out.

"Now you hold this pose," he ordered her. "And if you do, there may be a treat for you."

She didn't answer. He slapped her butt.

"What do we say, Thea?"

"Thank you, mister Brown."

"Good girl."

Tom walked to the front; his eyes wandered to Tina's yet exposed behind which she wiggled his way.