It's the course you've set your heart on, at the college you've always dreamed of going to. Your grades are there, but there's one final hurdle to clear - an interview with the course tutor.

The day comes and you dress yourself prettily but not too provocatively, in a light blue summer dress that just reaches to your knees, leaves your shoulders bare and accentuates your pert breasts and slim figure. You arrive on time, with your portfolio, and knock nervously on the study door.

"Come in" you hear a gruff voice say. You walk in and there I am, sitting behind my desk in my book-lined study. Tweed jacket, white shirt, steel-rimmed glasses. Mid forties, you think, but in good shape. You hesitate in the doorway.

"Well don't just stand there, girl," I growl. "Sit down."

You cross the room and sit in the soft, aged brown leather armchair which faces my desk. "It, it's an honour to meet you Professor," you say.

"Indeed," comes my curt retort - I haven't even made eye contact with you since you came in.

A few moments of silence pass. Suddenly I look up. "So what makes you think you can bring anything worthwhile to my course?" I ask sharply.

Transfixed, you start to stutter: "Well.... I, I, it's always been a subject that's interested me..... and, and my course work over the last year is, is.... has shown, I think, that..."

I cut off your attempt at an answer with a raised hand, and then sigh deeply. "What you have done so far, and what you are now, is irrelevant, young lady - this is about what you can become. The students I take have to be prepared to put aside everything they think they know and look beyond the norms, beyond what they think are their limits. Do you understand me?"

"I think so," you reply, uncertainly.

I stand up and walk over from behind my desk. I take your elbow and encourage you to stand and turn you to face the window, which looks out onto the college quadrangle, its immaculate lawn bordered with ancient oaks.

"To be worthy of a place here, you must be prepared to be stretched. Do you think you are prepared for that?"

As I speak, you become aware of my hand sliding up the smooth skin of your inner thigh, under your skirt.

"Yes," you say, but there is hesitancy in your response.

"I'm not convinced," I say, pushing you gently forward so you are bent over the softly padded side of the leather armchair. I ease your skirt up over your hips so that your lacy thong panties are exposed.

Bent over as you are, you can feel the lacy material pulling softly but insistently between your legs, stretching taut against your ass and rubbing with a delicious tingle against the lips of your pussy.

My hand, softly caressing the pert globes of your bum, pulls the downy cheeks further apart, and your thong cuts even more deeply in.

You drift into a dreamy reverie, relishing the sensation of being so vulnerable and so wantonly exposed, but at the same time feeling completely safe in giving yourself over to me - but then you come to as I give you a sudden stinging slap on your peachy backside.

"Daydreaming girly? I said you have to be prepared to be stretched, not fall asleep. How are you going to stay awake through lectures? You're clearly a student who would demand much............ stimulation."

As I speak, I ease two fingers inside your lacy thong, and rub them slowly up and down your rapidly moistening slit. The lips of your pussy swell and part. You give a tiny gasp as I first brush your clit, then push one finger into your wet hole.

"But then what can you have experienced in just 18 years?" I muse, almost to myself, as I slowly finger fuck you, feeling your tight hole tense and relax as I push my finger in and out.

"Oh Professor," you breath, "I promise you I want to learn. I want to be stretched, I want... oh God I want whatever you are going to put in me." As you speak, you start pushing back and grinding against my hand.

"Very well," I reply; "I would hate to deny such a keen student at least one opportunity to prove herself. Stay exactly where you are."

I walk back to my desk, hang my tweed jacket on the back of my chair, unfasten by gold cufflinks and roll up the sleeves of my immaculate white shirt.

Obediently, you remain bent over the armchair, an almost unbearable combination of apprehension and arousal making every nerve ending tingle.

You glance sideways and watch as I bring from the desk drawer a tightly bound black velvet bundle. I unfasten the ribbon ties and unroll the bundle on the desk. It has a series of pockets, each containing what looks like a black, highly polished cylindrical wooden rod with a rounded end. Each of the rods is maybe 10 or 12 inches long, but they increase in girth from one end of the bundle to the other, starting with one no thicker than the width of two fingers, going up to one that is perhaps four inches in diameter.

I take out the slimmest one and turn it over in my hands so you can see more clearly. Its flawless surface has a deep, lustrous shine.

"These are North African in origin - hand turned and polished ebony. Very rare and highly sought after craftsmanship. They were originally made for breaking in fresh young girls in the brothels of Tangiers - but I find they also have a place in a more....

academic context," I explain.

I pull your panties down, and they fall to your ankles, you step out of them and I move your feet apart with mine, and push you further over the arm of the chair, so that your young pussy and ass are spread wide open and completely accessible to me.

I push the slimmest wooden rod into your dripping cunt and it slips in with little resistance.

"An encouraging start," I remark. "But some lessons cannot be learned so quickly."

I take from a small corner pocket in the bundle a white ceramic jar. I unscrew the lid and dip two fingers in, then smear the lotion from the jar over your anus.

"Again, something a little more sophisticated than the cheap petrochemical lubricants you may be used to," I say. You feel a sensation of incredible silky wetness spreading over your asshole and down to your pussy but even so, when I push the second, slightly thicker, wooden shaft into your ass, I have to work to get the rounded tip into your tight muscular ring, and you give the faintest of cries as I force it through.

Using a kind of chopsticks grip, I'm able to work both the rod in your pussy and the one in your ass with one hand, while reaching over and stroking your hair with the other.

You try to reach a hand back to relieve the throbbing in your clit - but I stop you and push your arm away.

"Learning is a journey, little one - you have some way to go yet."

I remove the rod from your pussy, and put in the third one from the bundle. Again, you feel a stretch and a brief twinge of discomfort as the walls of your cunt are stretched wider than they ever have before - but you find you are able to relax more quickly this time.

You start to crave the sensation that comes with each new stretch, and despite the initial pain when I take the next largest one and use it replace the one in your ass, that pain is almost immediately replaced by an exquisite pleasure. You can't help yourself as you push back against me harder, moaning more loudly now.

"I want more - I want you to keep stretching me. Stretch my pussy and ass so I can be your little college whore," you cry out, surprising yourself with what you've just said - but desperate to prove to me what you can do, and even more desperate for that feeling of being stretched to your limits, and beyond.

The next two rods that I push inside you only intensify those feelings further. You make another desperate attempt to get your fingers onto your clit, but again I grab your hand and force it away.

"Soon, girl - you are doing well, but don't get carried away when your lesson is so nearly learned," I whisper.

This time, when I remove your rods, you're taken by surprise when I don't replace the one in your pussy straightaway. Instead, I take the biggest rod of all, smear some of the lotion from the jar on it, and gently nudge it against your asshole.

You feel something different to any of the previous stretches. This one is a monster, and you start to panic, fearing it is going to do something terrible if I manage to get it up your ass.

I sense your fear and gently caress your back with my free hand.

"Relax, breathe, you have done well so far and now we are nearly there - remember how far you have come already" and with that, I apply just enough force to get the fattest rod into your anus.

The sensation is so extreme that you cry out more loudly than ever. Your whole being is focussed on the huge shaft which feels like it is filling up your entire inside, your nerves raw, your clit tingling, hardly able to breathe.

As you finally begin to relax and accept what is being done to you, you realise your gaping pussy is still unfilled. Then, you sense a movement and looking round see that I have undone my flies to release my erect cock.

I see you looking and ask "are you ready?"

"Oh God, I want your cock in my cunt so much, I'm wide open for you to fuck me and make me cum. I'm sorry for being such a whore but what you've done to my pussy and ass has turned me into a filthy little slut and I need to cum so badly," you gasp.

The way you're bent over the chair means I am able to push my cock all the way inside you with one thrust, while still working the rod that's stretching your ass. Then finally - finally! - I'm fucking you and rubbing your clit which has been so desperate for my touch, or any touch.

You buck wildly against my hand and cock as my thrusts get deeper and harder. You can only last a couple of minutes before you come with a terrifying intensity, shouting out the filthiest words you can think of in a stream of obscenity, then collapse almost in a faint as you feel me coming inside you.

I stay inside you but gently ease the rod out of your ass and tenderly rub your back and stroke your hair, whispering quiet words of comfort. Then I pull out of you, fasten my trousers, smooth your dress down, take you in my arms and we cuddle for a while in the chair.

Then I stand, pull you to your feet and stroke your cheek. "A very good interview, overall," I say. "I feel fairly confident we will be able to offer you the place you want. However, I fear some extra tutorials may be needed if you are to really excel,"

You smile, "I think you'll find me as keen to learn as ever, Professor....."