She received the post on Monday and she tore the envelope open excitedly. She had been waiting for this for what seemed like forever! Quickly she read through the letter, searching for the answer she hoped was in it. There it was, she had been accepted!

Chelsea Bell had applied to a well known college in the United States to study. She had chosen this school, partially for its reputation for having a good sociology program. She wanted to become a criminal sociologist. But she had also chosen a school in the United States because she wanted to get out of Great Britain. She lived in the small town of Farnborough all of her life, and she longed to escape. She wanted to see the America she saw on her "telly" - her television. The America she had read about in school and in stories.

She was pretty good in school in England; she had gotten good grades there and didn't think she would have much trouble in an American college. Sure, there would be the typical troubles of putting away the Metric system and learning the American ways of measuring, weighing, and so forth. But that would come with a little period of adjustment. She was excited to be leaving England and starting a new adventure "across the pond" in America.

So two weeks later, she was at the bus stop in Farnborough getting ready to leave the only life she had ever known. It would take a forty five minute bus ride to get to London's Heathrow Airport. The next part was the longest, an eleven hour flight to JFK International, followed by a three hour connecting flight to Chicago. After that, it was an hour long bus ride to get to the college itself. A long trip to be sure, but one she was excited to be taking. Chelsea got on the bus and settled in for the ride to Heathrow. She had been to London many times, but this trip was special. She looked at the English countryside, taking it all in as if it was the first time she had ever seen it. She wasn't sure when, or if, she would ever see it again.

As she watched out the window, she heard a man's voice behind her. "Where ya headed to love?" She turned to see an older gentleman, who was clearly a fellow Brit speaking to her.

"I'm off to America to go to school," she said, "Chicago to be exact."

"That's a bit of a trip, then!" he said, smiling.

"Yes it is," she agreed, then turned back to look out the window again.

"How long will you be gone?" he asked.

"I, I don't know," she said. "It's a four year Master's degree, so hopefully at least that long."

"Well good luck to ya. I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Thank you," she said.

The bus arrived in London, and Chelsea took a cab from the bus depot to the airport. And after 20 hours, two bus rides and two airport layovers, she finally arrived at the college! And just in time too, she was just able to get into admissions in time to get processed in and get a dorm assignment! So she had a place to sleep that night. And she needed it; Chelsea hit the bed and was asleep before she hardly had closed her eyes!

The next morning she got up and went to her first class at the school. It was a class on psychology and her instructor, Professor Diederich , was a former psychologist himself. Chelsea found a seat in the center of the classroom close to the front. She wanted to make sure she could get everything possible from the class. Chelsea took her classes serious, and she got good grades over in England. She wanted to make sure she did the same in her new school.

* * * *

The first couple weeks went by pretty quickly. Chelsea had a lot to absorb and get used to. Not only was she going to college now, but it was college in a foreign country. She had to learn the language, learn how to deal with money and measurements, and a host of other things in her new home. All this made her workload harder than most of the other students in her class, but she handled it well and the time did fly by.

Professor Diederich noticed her work as well. He was impressed how Chelsea seemed to be fitting in. And even with the extra burden of being a foreigner, she was keeping her grades up in the B to B percentile. One day after class, Professor Diederich stopped Chelsea as she was leaving the classroom.

"Excuse me, Miss Bell. I'd like you to stay after class for a bit. I want to talk to you," he said.

"Sure Professor," she replied, "what's the matter?" As the last of the students left the classroom, Professor Diederich closed the door and came back to his desk.

"Nothing is the matter, Miss Bell. I just wanted to talk to you about how well you are doing so far. I know that it is especially hard for someone who is not of this country to come here and have to deal with American ways of doing things, much less taking college classes to boot. But you are doing remarkable. I just thought you should know I am impressed."

"Thank you, Professor. It has been an interesting experience, that's for sure. But I am doing ok. I have made some good friends here, and they have helped me to adapt," she said.

"Well the other thing I wanted to ask you is if you would be willing to become my assistant for this school year. Every year I pick one student who shows more initiative, and ask if they would like to be my assistant and help me with grading papers, setting up work projects, and other things. Not that you need it, but there is extra credit involved for you."

"Wow, Professor, I am flattered! I would love to be your assistant!" she said excitedly.

"Then consider it done. Can you come by after school today and we will discuss what you can do to help me?"

"Sure Professor. My last class ends about 2:00p.m., is that okay?"

"That will do nicely. I have a free period starting at that time, so we will have some time to talk."

"Ok, I will be here a little after 2:00 then," she said, smiling. Chelsea left for her next class excited about her meeting with the Professor. She wondered what kinds of things she would be helping him with. Chelsea enjoyed Professor Diederich's class; the subjects he taught were interesting for her and the way he presented the information made it easy for her to understand. She also liked his voice and the passion he had for his work. He wasn't the dry monotone type of instructor that she had had so many times before. She had no trouble staying awake for his classes!

After her last class let out, she hurried to Professor Diederich 's classroom, anxious to learn what her duties would be. She rushed through the hallways, going against the press of the other students trying to get out of the school buildings and on with their weekend fun. Finally she arrived at the classroom and she paused at the door, wanting to straighten her clothes and check her makeup before going in. She wanted to show her appreciation by looking her best, after all this was a big honor for her.

"Hello Professor," she said walking into the classroom "I'm here just as you asked."

"Yes, Miss Bell. Thank you for taking the time. Now shall we discuss my needs for your assistance?"

"Yes, Sir," Chelsea said, "whatever I can do to help, Professor."

"Good. Well I will need you to help me set up for classes from time to time, I will need your help in grading papers and tests, and I will need your help in giving demonstrations when I need to. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Yes, Sir. That sounds easy enough. I would love to be your assistant," she said, smiling broadly.

"Good. Now aside from class-related help, I will also need your help in other areas. I can never seem to find the time to get everything done that I need to do. Would you be opposed to doing more mundane things such as picking up my dry cleaning and running other errands as well?" he asked.

"No Professor, I'll do whatever you need done," she said.

"Excellent. That will take a lot of the load off me, then. Thank you," the Professor said.

Chelsea smiled. "It's my pleasure, Professor."

"Would you like to get a cup of coffee and we can talk further about class and what will be coming up?" the Professor asked.

"Sure! That would be great," she replied. So the pair left the classroom and walked across the campus square to the coffee shop and talked some more about class, her goals, and how she will be helping him. About an hour later, they said goodbye and Professor Diederich went to his car and headed home, while Chelsea walked back to her dorm room quite happy with her new assignment as his class assistant. She had no idea just how much she would come to love her new job.

The following week would prove to be an important one for Chelsea. A turning point in the young girls' life and the introduction of a whole new world for her - one she never knew existed. Professor Diederich held Chelsea after class that Monday to talk to her about a demonstration he wanted to give the class.

"Miss Bell, tomorrow I will be bringing in some antique criminal punishment devices to class, and I will need you to help me show the class how they were used. I will be bringing in a pair of antique leg irons, antique handcuffs, a pillory, and a few other things. I will need you to be the 'criminal' so the class can see how one would be put into these devices back in those days. Do you have a problem with this? I won't be applying them to the same degree they were used on a criminal of course; I just want the class to get the general idea."

"I suppose it would be all right," Chelsea said a bit uneasily. She wasn't sure of this idea of being a display. Chelsea was a bit shy and didn't really like being the center of attention. But she had agreed to be the Professor's assistant and if this is what he needed her to do, then she would do it.

The next day Chelsea showed up to class as usual. She had all but forgotten about what she was to help the Professor with that day. That is, until she walked into the class room and saw the table at the front of the class with a dark colored cloth covering some odd shaped objects under it. There was also something tall and draped in a similar cloth standing next to the table. Chelsea took her seat, wondering if she hadn't bitten off more than she cared to chew.

"Good morning class. Today I brought in some items to show you what the criminals of yesterday had to look forward to when they chose to circumvent the law. Back in the early days of this country, the laws were much stricter - we didn't have all the freedoms we enjoy today. It was a different time and a different mentality. And the laws of that day were written as much to keep the country a God-fearing one as it was a civil one. And breaking these laws brought about consequences designed to punish rather than rehabilitate the offenders as we try to do today. Miss Bell here has kindly volunteered to assist me in demonstrating to all of you some of the devices and methods used back then to show the criminals of that period the error of their ways. Miss Bell, if you would be so kind..."

Chelsea got up out of her chair and came to the front of the class. Professor took her over to the table and removed the dark cloth covering the objects on table, revealing what was underneath. Chelsea silently gasped as she saw what she was going to be demonstrating. Professor Diederich smiled knowingly to himself at her reaction.

"First off we will show you the typical handcuffs of the period. Note that they are considerably different than the ones you see today. These are what are commonly called the screw-type handcuffs. The key, seen here, doesn't look like the normal handcuff key you see in today’s' handcuffs," he said. “Miss Bell, could you please turn around. I shall show the class how these handcuffs were applied.”

Chelsea turned her back to the class and put her hands behind her back. The Professor put the handcuffs on her wrists and adjusted them so they were snug, but not tight. "How does that feel, Miss Bell?" he asked.

"Fine, Professor," she said.

"Shall we try the leg irons now?"

"Yes, if you like."

So Professor Diederich took the leg irons from off the table and knelt down to attach them to her ankles. The leg irons were antique as well with the same screw lock but with a heavy iron ball on a short chain between the two shackles. "These leg irons," the Professor explained, "were made short like this to prevent the wearer from being able to walk effectively. Anyone unfortunate to be shackled in them, had to hobble along using short steps. In addition this heavy ball would slow down any movement as well, making running away impossible. Try walking if you will, Miss Bell," he said. Chelsea took a few steps and saw how difficult it was.

"Yes, Professor, I see.

It would be quite difficult to move easily!" Chelsea said. The professor then took off the leg irons and handcuffs.

"We have one more item to show you class," he said walking over to the tall cloth covered object. He removed the covering and continued his presentation. "This class is a pillory. It was used back in the day as a way to publicly shame and humiliate a convicted lawbreaker. Miss Bell?"

Chelsea walked over as directed to the pillory. It consisted of a 4"x4" post about waist high when set on end. The base was four wooden boards set to form an X on the ground with the post coming up from the center. On top of the post, were two thick boards set edge to edge and hinged on one side. In between there were three holes, one for the criminals head and one on each side for their wrists. The professor explained as he put Chelsea into the pillory. "As you can see, the pillory was built to make the criminal have to bend at the waist. Some were slightly taller; it just depended on what was desired at the time. Most of them had the center post pounded into the ground. The criminal was locked in like you see our Miss Bell here, and then either whipped or the people were allowed to cast insults, spit, throw feces, or rotten fruit and vegetables at the convicted. It was not a pleasant experience to be sure!"

Professor turned to Chelsea and bent over. "How do you like my little presentation, Miss Bell?" he whispered in a low, deep voice.

Chelsea moaned softly at his words. They were different than the way he had spoken to her all the other times, more sensual and even sexual. He smiled at her response. He had picked the right girl for the job! He let her out of the pillory, and she returned to her seat just as the bell rang. She picked up her books for her next class, and turned to look at the professor once more before she left. He had his back to her, covering up the pillory and put the other things back on the table. She paused for a moment before leaving for her next class.

That afternoon after her last class had ended, Chelsea returned to Professor Diederich's class. A soft, almost timid knock and she stuck her head in the door.

"Professor?" she said quietly.

"Well, hello Miss Bell. How can I help you?" he asked.

“I just came by to, uh; see if you needed my help with anything," she said.

"No, I am just looking at tomorrow's lesson plans. Then I was going to head home."

"I see," she said, walking past the pillory and eyeing it as she did. She was fascinated with the device, but didn't know why it attracted her.

"Was there anything else, Miss Bell?" he said, watching her closely.

I, um, well..." she said, unable to tear her attention away from the cloth covered pillory. Professor Diederich got up from behind his desk and walked over to the classroom door, giving the lock a quick twist. Then he went over to where Chelsea was staring at the pillory. He pulled the cover off of it again.

"You seem quite interested in this pillory, Miss Bell. Would you like another look at it?" he said.

"I, um, yes," she stammered nervously. He unlatched the top and opened it for her.

"Get in," he said. He wasn't asking this time, he was telling her. She didn't even think about it, she just approached the pillory and placed her head and wrists in place as she had before. He lowered the top and latched it closed, locking her in once more. But this time they were alone and they would be undisturbed.

"Now then Miss Bell, you seem to be very interested in this device. Is there some reason for your fascination?" he asked.

"Um, well, I...” She said, unable to find the words.

"I thought as much," he said. He laid his hand on the small of her back and Chelsea moaned, this time audibly. "Yes, my dear, that is your nature, calling you, awakening within you. The hidden part of you is coming to life. Let it come, let it out. You know you want to, I can feel that you want to," he said in a deep, coaxing voice.

"Ohhh," she said. Chelsea felt herself getting damp, her knickers becoming moist as she listened to his powerful voice. His hand moved further down the small of her back, to just where the swell of her back began to turn into her rump.

"You are excited by this, aren't you Miss Bell? I can smell your excitement. I can feel your body tremble as it wants this. You do want this don't you? Don’t you?" he said, raising his voice insisting she answer.

"Yes," she said, moaning and raising her hips slightly to his touch.

"Yes, indeed," he said. He ran his hand over her ass, and she wriggled at his caress. Then he gave her a playful swat and unlocked the latch on the pillory, raising it up to let her out.

Chelsea stood up, her face reddened from her blushing. "Thank you, Professor," she said looking down at her feet.

"Miss Bell, if you have nothing to do, I could use help bringing these things home. That is, if you want to," he said.

"I would be happy to help you, Professor," she said.

"Good. It will save me several trips bringing all this to my vehicle. And we can talk on the way." And with that, Professor Diederich put away his paperwork and put the handcuffs and leg irons in the bag he had brought them in and set both by the door. Then he took the pillory apart in the three sections it broke down into. The pair brought all the things down to the truck that the Professor had driven to school in and loaded them into the back. The truck had a fiberglass topper on the bed so all the things could be locked and secured back there. The professor then opened the door for Chelsea and once she was seated, closed it again and went around and got in himself.

It took about forty-five minutes to make the drive from the university to the Professor's house. During the drive they chatted and the Professor got to know her a bit better.

"So what part of England are you from Miss Bell?" he asked.

"Farnborough," she answered.

"I'm not familiar with that area. Whereabouts is Farnborough?"

"Farnborough is a small town about 48 kilometers southwest of London. It is actually more of a suburb of London since you can't really tell where London ends and Farnborough begins!" she told him, "There are a lot of little towns surrounding London but they all run together pretty much."

"I see. And how long have you lived there?" he asked.

"I’ve lived there all my life. I was born there and never left until coming here. I had never even been on an airplane until coming to America!"

"Sounds exciting," he said.

"Oh it was! It was a little scary, since I had to do everything on my own though. I had never been completely on my own before."

"So your parents are still alive?"

"Well my Mum is. My father passed away several years ago. Cancer took him."

"Oh, I see. I am sorry," he said.

"No worries. It has been a long time. It's ok, Professor," she said.

"I have looked at your school transcripts, and you did well in school. All your grades were very good and there wasn't anything on your record that showed you got in trouble or anything. You kept your head and didn't get involved in any trouble. That is good."

"No, Sir. I didn't. I tried to stay out of trouble."

"So, besides Mum, who else did you leave behind in Farnborough? You know maybe a boyfriend, fiancés, significant others?"

"No. No one like that, I don't have a boyfriend or anything like that," she said, sounding a bit depressed.

"Seriously? I would think a girl as pretty and friendly as you would be beating them off with a stick!"

"Well, thank you, Professor, but no," she said.

"Don't worry about it, Miss Bell. I am sure you will find someone here who will peak your interest."

She smiled at his remark. He didn't know it at the time, but she already had found someone who interested her!

They finally arrived at the Professor's home, a large two story Colonial style house, with a wrap-around deck, a separate two car garage and an expansive, well-cared for lawn. He pulled the car up to the garage, pushed the remote for the door, and pulled inside. He got out and helped Chelsea out of the car. "Come on inside, I'll get the things out of the trunk later," he said. He led her out of the garage and through the covered walkway to the main house. He unlocked the door and held it open for her.

Chelsea walked into a very well appointed and neat home. The Professor has good taste, she thought to herself as she walked through the kitchen and into the living room of his home. The furniture was tasteful and understated the decor was comfortable without being too modest or too brash. He was obviously comfortable with who he was without being a braggart about it.

"You have a very nice home, Professor," she said, as he showed her to the plush leather sofa in front of the fireplace.

"Thank you," he said, "Can I offer you a drink, some wine perhaps?"

"That would be nice, thank you," she smiled.

He stepped into the kitchen and returned a moment later with two glasses of red wine. He came over and sat next to her on the sofa, a comfortable space apart and clicked the remote to ignite the fireplace. They sat, enjoying their wine and talking. Chelsea was enjoying herself very much. The whole environment made her feel special, the wine, being in the Professors home, everything about it.

But sitting there on the couch with her wine, Chelsea started feeling a bit lightheaded. "Oh, Professor, I'd better slow down a bit! I'm starting to feel the wine!" she said.

"Well maybe you'd better eat something. Would you care to stay for dinner?"

"That would be wonderful, Professor, thank you."

"Well how does spaghetti sound?"

“I love spaghetti! It’s my favorite! That’s perfect, Professor.” She said smiling broadly.

"Okay but one condition. No more 'Professor' tonight. My name is Sam. Deal?"

"Deal...Sam," She said with a big smile.

Professor Diederich and Chelsea went into the kitchen to get dinner started. "Is there anything you want me to do, Sam?" she asked.

"No, you just sit there and look pretty and keep me company. I'm going to make you some of my world famous home-made spaghetti!" he said.

Chelsea blushed. "I don't know about the pretty part, but I can certainly keep you company. I enjoy talking to you, Sam," she said.

"Well the pretty part is easy, you already have that covered," he said, placing his hand over hers on the counter. Chelsea felt her heart skip a beat at his touch.

"Thank you, Sam, you are so sweet," she said, blushing again.

The spaghetti finished cooking in a few minutes, and he dished up two platefuls and set them on the table complete with meatballs, Parmesan cheese, and garlic bread. He seated Chelsea and then sat down himself.

"Oh, Sam! This spaghetti is delicious!" Chelsea said after the first bite. She looked at him and smiled. This charming man could cook too! He was the total package!

"After we finish dinner and let it settle a bit, would you mind helping me get the things out of the truck? They are still in the back of the truck from school. I need to bring the truck back tomorrow, it's a rental."

"Sure, Sam. After a meal like this, it's the least I can do!" she said with another smile.

"I'm glad you like it," he said. They finished their meal and went back into the living room. They talked a little while longer and she told him more about her life in England and how different things were over here.

About an hour later, Professor Diederich stood up. "Why don't we get the stuff out of the truck now before it gets too late?"

"Okay," she said, taking his hand as he helped her to her feet. They walked out to the garage, and he handed her the lightest of the packages, while he took the parts of the pillory into the house. He led the way down the hallway to a heavy solid door. Unlocking it, he turned on the light. He led her downstairs and around the corner where she was to get a shock that would change her life forever after.

The above story is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and events in it are products of the author’s imagination and are used as fantasy. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This story is a collaborative effort with the invaluable help of Poppet, without whose help this story would not be possible. Thank you Poppet for your help, your input, and your assistance with this project. It was a real pleasure working with you! :)