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Professor Greenstein's Offer

Allie has waited for ages. Now it's time to take her professor up on her offer.
My cheeks burned and my knees were like rubber when I walked barefooted up the few steps to Professor Greenstein’s house in one of the better suburbs of the town. I felt displaced among the well-kept hedges and lawns, the straight lines of fences and the neat, freshly painted houses. I knocked and waited with bated breath.

It took almost a minute, but then I heard the faint sound of measured steps approaching the door. A human shape became visible through the pane of frosted glass and the door slowly swung open.

My breath hitched. She wore one of her business dressed, dark blue, with a pencil skirt and a straight white blouse, strict and powerful, and she towered over me, the high heels adding to the height difference of almost a foot. Her gray hair was done up in a bun, one ringlet curling cutely downwards next to the expensive, silver-rimmed glasses she always wore. Her lips, full and glistening cherry-red, curled into a pleased smile. She looked better than ever.

“Good morning, Allie.”

There it was, that husky timbre that sent goose bumps all over my skin. I tried to greet her in return, but my voice failed me.

She appeared to sense my predicament. “I am so happy that you came. It has been quite some time. But please come in!”

She stepped aside, and I traipsed inside, letting her guide me through the hallway and into the huge living room with full-size windows that allowed full view of the garden. Her hand on my shoulder made me stop right in the middle of the plush, red carpet.

“Have you really thought about my offer, and all that it signifies?”

I nodded, but when she kept looking at me, I cleared my throat. “I have, Professor Greenstein.” My face flushed.

“I think you have guessed by now that being with me is not all lovey-dovey stuff.” This was the tone that could make a whole lecture hall come to attention in the blink of an eye. “If you stay, you’re going to be here for my pleasure, not for yours. You’re going to do whatever I tell you to, and take a punishment if you refuse or fail.”

She started to walk around, slowly, the carpet swallowing the sound of her high heels, and I felt her eyes roam all over my body.

“You’re a bright girl, Allie.” Her voice was right behind me and tickled my neck.

I could barely stop the moan. I couldn’t hide the shiver that raced over my skin.

“You’re twenty-three. I’m fifty-six, that’s twice as old. You are beautiful. I once was. You are still rather innocent. You can’t even start to imagine the dirty things that I want to do when I look at you. Do you really want this?”

“Oh god, yes! Make me yours!” The words, harbored in my mind since I had noticed her at the university, broke free from their chains. I had watched her, admired her, even signed up for her lectures, albeit literature had nothing to do with my business studies.

“Have you done as I requested?”

The hunger that was now present in her voice made me tremble in delight, and I proudly raised my chin. “Yes, Professor.”

“Then you won’t mind if I have a look to assure you really did.”

Her fingers touched my neck and trailed down towards my shoulders, her nails softly scratching my skin. I moaned in delight and was instantly chastised by the clucking of her tongue. I felt the shoulder straps of my flimsy summer dress pushed aside in agonizing slowness and couldn’t wait for the moment when they would finally be free and allow the dress to slide down.

The moment didn’t come. She guided the fabric slowly down my body, and I could feel her breath, hot and moist, travel down my back while her fingers ran down my arms. My breathing became faster when her hands touched my thighs and the cool air travelled over my moist plum.

“You’ve got a lovely derriere,” she complimented, “tight and round and unblemished. It will be an exquisite pleasure to mark it for the first time.”

I moaned again, almost bursting with arousal. She was the first person that would see me completely naked, and I had never imagined the level of intimacy I felt. The dress pooled around my legs.

“Turn around, slowly.”

My knees trembled when I followed her order. Doubts raced through my mind and warred with the overwhelming desire to be hers.

“Oh my!” The delight in her voice was like a warm blanket that wrapped itself around my heart. “Such lovely, big breasts.”

Her eyes bore into mine, drew me into the silvery orbs with an inescapable pull. “Can you imagine how delicious they will look, covered all over with small, red welts?”

My breath started to fly when she reached for them. Her fingers, much cooler than my own skin, wrapped around them and softly kneaded them, and my nipples hardened almost painfully at the wonderful touch.

“But the most important thing,” she let go of them and trailed her hands down my front side while she crouched down, “well done! Completely smooth.”

She rubbed over my pussy and one of the rings she was wearing touched my clit, just for a second, but that second was enough to drive me to the very edge.

“Please,” I whimpered.

She immediately let go, and I could only jerk my pelvis uselessly into the air with a disappointed moan.

“Such need,” she whispered, her eyes twinkling behind the glasses, “you are really the most eager girl I’ve had here so far.”

The mentioning of other girls pushed a spear of envy through my heart, but I didn’t dare to shatter the moment with a complaint.

“There was one in particular, I think Emily was her name, who seemed almost as full of need as you are. She acted a bit coy when I told her to turn around for the first time. Do you know how I punished her for that?”

I realized that she hadn’t mentioned the other girls by chance. “No, Professor.” I shook my head. “How did you?”

Her eyes seemed to look somewhere far away. “I made her kneel. I undressed and sat down in the armchair, and I had her kneel right in front of me for hours while I read a book. She wasn’t allowed to touch me, and I forbade her from talking.”

Another whimper escaped me. The thought of being in Emily’s position was equally arousing and terrifying. But I knew I would have done the same, followed Professor Greenstein’s orders, withstood the yearning to touch her and knelt for however long she told me to.

“I was younger then, still in my early thirties and pretty.” A hint of sadness appeared on her face, but it was quickly concealed.

“You’re still beautiful!” I blurted, which drew a throaty laugh.

“Me? Beautiful? Those days are long gone. I’ve got wrinkles everywhere, my tits and ass are sagging more and more each year. My hair is almost completely gray, and my hip has rings of fat where there used to be tight skin.”

“But you are!” I meant it with all of my heart. The disparaging way she talked about herself felt like stabs to my heart. I fell to my knees and kissed her toes, peeking out from her high-heeled blue leather sandals so invitingly. “You’re so strong and fascinating, and there is no part of your body I wouldn’t worship! You are beautiful!”

Fabric rustled, and when I looked up, my heart jumped in joy. She opened her blouse with skilled fingers and slipped it off. Her breasts, full and with huge nipples that made my mouth water, were held up by a white half-bra. A flood of freckles covered the skin under a shine white pearl necklace, spilt down her chest and spread all over her alabaster orbs. I longed to touch them, to kiss them.

Then the zip of her skirt was pulled down and it slid to the floor. My breath flew in gasps. Her thighs, fleshy and cream-colored, invited me to trail my tongue all the way up to the temple between, still hidden behind a layer of soft, white fabric that was saturated with moisture.

I smelled her arousal, musky and intoxicating. Only an incredibly act of willpower kept me rooted to my spot when the panties were pulled down. Her pussy was beautiful, large and puffy, and her inner lips peeked boldly out from her folds, dark and glistening with wetness in the daylight from the windows.

“So beautiful,” I whispered, transfixed.

Her finger guided my chin upwards, and she studied at me for a long minute with an unreadable expression.

Then her eyes widened. “You really think so.” The short statement was filled with wonder.

We stared into each other’s eyes, searching, questioning. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach in a wild dance.

“The things I will do to you! Oh Allie, you have no idea!”

The giddiness in her voice was infectious. I did have some ideas, and she knew it, because most of the nights my roommates and friends had gone out and partied, I had spent roaming the internet and searching for the few words Professor Greenstein had scribbled on the margins of the indecent letter I had sent her. Her answer had been short. Visit me after you have graduated, if you are still interested then, but if you do, wear nothing but a dress. Not even body hair. In the meantime, learn and think about the following: BDSM; Submission; Bondage; Pain; Exhibitionism. If you come, you will be mine.

What I had found on the internet had almost overwhelmed me in the beginning, and I had tried my best to forget my silly infatuation. But I couldn’t. After little more than a week I gave in, and soon my dreams of kisses and gentle lovemaking were replaced by depraved, feverish fantasies about whips and canes, about being owned and used. More often than not, I fell asleep with a hand clutched between my legs, imaginary leather straps around my wrists and ankles and pleas of desire on my lips.

My skin started to tingle all over.

“Do you take pain well?” The question, blunt and breathless, pulled me from my reflections.

“I don’t know, Professor.”

“Then we will find out.” Her words were once more slow and measured, the insecurities from earlier forgotten. “How often have you had sex?”

A short wave of panic built up inside me and I bit my lip, but I forced myself to answer. “Never,” I said with a trembling voice, “Professor.”

“You’re a virgin?”

“I saved myself for you, Professor.”

She stayed silent for a long time, and my heart tried to burst from my chest. Had I done something wrong? But then her eyes softened, and she extended a hand to me.

“Come,” she urged, “let’s continue this somewhere more comfortable.”

She guided me across the room and to a big cushioned recliner in front of a window. She lay back in it and pulled me to her, so I ended up sitting on her lap with her arms wrapped around me and her chin on my shoulder. I felt the heated skin of her naked body press against my back and was in heaven.

“That is a wonderful gift, Allie.”

Her breath tickled my ear and her hands stroked softly up and down my front. I tried to snuggle deeper into her embrace, and her voice grew husky.

“You don’t know how much that means to me. God, it has been ages since I was allowed to pluck a flower. It is such a brilliant moment.” She nibbled on my earlobe and I gasped in pleasure. “I will make it a grand event, something we both will never forget.”

“Please,” I whimpered once more.

Her hands stroked my thighs, soft and warm, and they ever so slowly moved upwards to my pussy, which burned and pulsed with need.

“What should I do with you now?” It was almost a growl.

She bit my neck, directly on that soft, sensitive spot right next to my shoulder, and my breath hitched.

“Anything!” I gasped. “Whatever you want!”

“Good answer!” It was only a whisper, but it shook my whole body.

My back arched when she finally touched my pussy again and started to rub slowly up and down. “Oh god yes,” I whimpered, but when she placed little, sharp bites all over my neck and shoulders, words became too difficult and I could only moan and gasp and whimper.

She never sped up her stroking, and I was soon desperate to reach the inevitable climax. I tried to push my pussy against her hand, but her other arm pulled me tight to her and held me in place.

It felt incredible. She controlled me, dictated the pace of her touches, and I could do nothing but receive whatever pleasure she gave me. Something new to me, something primal and powerful took hold of me, and I felt my body start to tremble in high frequency.

My pussy lips felt like they were swelling to double of their regular size, hot and incredibly sensitive. My moans grew louder, interspersed with high-pitched gasps every time she bit down on my tender skin. Sparks of electricity shot through my body. I started to sweat and my eyes lost focus.

I felt one of her digits bend and push into my slick, wet tunnel. It was the most intense touch I had ever felt, and it was enough. My pussy clenched around her fingertip and waves of pleasure washed over me, shaking me and almost making me sob with joy.

“Mine,” she whispered, “you’re mine!”

She bit down harder than before, and it was like an explosion that started under my skin and raced with light speed to my breasts and pussy. Wetness gushed from my folds and my body arched and shook under the onslaught of pleasure. I saw spots dancing in my eyes, and I had to fight to keep breathing.

I shook and twisted, and her arms had to clutch me painfully to keep me from toppling to the floor. It was like flying, and it lasted for ages.

Finally, I slumped down, exhausted and sweaty, safe in her embrace.

She let me rest there for a few minutes, let me relish in the afterglow of the most brilliant orgasm in my life. I felt so close to her, and so grateful.

I almost didn’t see that she had lifted her hand in front of my face, glistening with my juices. But I did, and her intent was clear.

I extended my tongue, still in too much bliss to think about the kinkiness of licking my own secretions from her fingers, and started to lap the musky moisture from her skin.

“Good girl,” she praised, warming my heart, “but you need to know that every pleasure comes with a price when you are with me. It always needs to be paid for, either before or after.”

I couldn’t stifle my giggle. “This one must be very expensive then,” I declared, drawing out the words.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, insolent brat!” I could hear the amusement in her voice, and I felt content.

“Professor Greenstein?”

She brushed a stray lock of hair from the side of my face and kissed me on the cheek. “Yes, my Allie?”

“I…” I almost said it, but then I feared that it was too early for such a declaration, even though my heart screamed that I had to tell her. “Don’t go gentle on me, please.”

She threw back her head and let out a loud chuckle. “Oh, Allie,” she sighed, “nothing could be further from my mind. But tell me, have you ever been thoroughly spanked?”

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