Sitting through another lecture with Professor McArthur was an ache turned molten. Through the entire first semester, I’d let my mind wander, wondering just how his voice would curl down my spine if he called me baby. Some days I’ll just sit there—wide-legged, feeling the heat rise—biting my lip as the wet soaks into my jeans, and his voice fills my head. Once, I’d moaned. Friday nights were spent hanging out with the oth...

There is a moment after readiness, before action, when time thickens instead of moving. My body was stretched open and plugged shut. Well, my ass was. I felt the large plug pressing between the surface of the table and the shape of my cunt. The last tremors of my orgasm made it thrum inside me like a self-propelled vibrator intent on making me cum again. I existed there like their fantasy, their trophy. I was positioned a...