Professor's Little Pet

Then the serious spanking started.

At first, his blows felt more like smacks than actual pain. Even though the sound made me tense up, the sensation of warmth was pleasant. Then he started hitting me harder, slapping the same spot on my skin over and over again until I was writhing in his grip, wincing as the pain shot through my body.

Longing found me in the midst of it all.

What do I say? Suddenly, I found myself in Oz, just like Betty did. Before, the world was only visible in black and white; now, it's awash in dazzling, full-color technicolor. Extremely distressing coloration, which caused me to wriggle and moan and writhe on his lap, but also to keep my arms exactly where they were and raise my posterior to meet his palm halfway.

It wasn't just that this was the realization of an erotic fantasy I'd had since reading my first bodice-ripper as a teenager. It wasn't even that I found his body to be physically appealing. Something about the way he took control, making a decisive move to take away my freedom of choice, made this inevitable.

It hurt like hell, but it was extremely erotic. To put it bluntly, Oren made me feel subservient. That was the turning point; up until then, I had submitted to him, but it was my submission that counted. Now that I was sprawled out across his lap with his hands firmly grasping my wrists, he had complete power over me and I was at his mercy to be punished or pleased in any way he saw fit. As a result, I felt more independent than ever before.

My reddening bottom felt every swat. My skin felt warm, tender, and flushed. He scratched me playfully with his fingernails, and it hurt. The flip side was pleasure, which I was happy to experience.

Slowly but surely, his palm began to feel different. Now the blows were gentler and slower in coming, with tender ass rubs bookending each smack. As if on autopilot, I spread my legs wide and curved my behind towards him. Then he smacked my pussy after gently touching it for a while. He smacked me again, this time with a quick, firm thumb on my clitoris. A finger was jabbed into my dripping wetness, and my cheeks were smacked twice. My moans of pain gave way to something more guttural and primal as he seduced me with his touch, and I heard myself do it. I was making the sounds of a woman who longed to be claimed by her man.

When I realized what those sounds meant, I felt my face heat up. I cringed at the thought of the message I was sending him: that I was there for his pleasure and his pleasure alone.

Juice dripping from my pussy, his finger found another opening. In turn, my body tensed.

A soothing stroke across my arse was followed by a hard spanking along the crease. All he said was, "Relax." As I tried to calm down, he ran his finger in circles around my puckered asshole before gently inserting it, but only to the first knuckle.

It was out-of-place, against the rules, but ultimately essential. My body betrayed me and I felt myself pressing my arse into his finger, grimacing as I pleaded with him to go further.

His question was, "Cunt or ass?" In which sock did you want to f**k me? When I was naked and kneeling on the patio stones in his backyard, he fucked my mouth deeply and hard for his pleasure, his blunt words made me blush with shame.

I muttered, "Ass." I shut my eyes tightly, unable to recognize myself in the being that lay on Oren's lap and used my voice to speak passionately about wanting to engage in forbidden acts.

His fingers returned to my pussy, transferring the moisture there to my arse, and he added a second finger, which went only to the level of the first knuckle. With his fingers he twisted and turned me until I felt safe enough to lean into him and let him into my most intimate spaces.

Has this been your first time? he questioned. While sitting up in bed, I shook my head. Up until I felt his finger there, I had never given it much thought, but now I wanted much more.

A single "hmm" escaped his lips. When he was done, he picked me up, flipped me over, and tucked me into the crook of his shoulder. He had not yet removed his clothes, while I was exposed. As I hid my face in his chest, I felt weak and exposed.

Are you sure you want me to fuck your ass?" he asked. I sensed his gaze on me, but I averted it by keeping my head down. His fingers wandered down to my pussy and he began to stroke me while surveying the gushing moisture there.

"Yes. No. I said softly, "I don't know." I could almost touch his grin.

Then he said, "Tell you what, Chloe," as his finger followed the contour of my jaw. If you insist on this, I'll take it easy. I'll try to be as gentle as possible. If you don't find it entertaining within the next ten minutes, we'll stop. It was the first time he'd kissed me that night, and he only kissed my lips briefly. His fingers cupped my breast, pinched, and gently yanked my nipple away from my body.

Nonetheless, there's no reason for us to resort to such measures. There is no need to continually increase the stakes here. I'm here to ensure your safety, and the fun we're having is mutual.

My eyes landed on him. There was no mocking amusement in his eyes for the first time that night. Simple honesty. This eased some of the tension I was feeling.

Indecisively but firmly, I said, "I want this." But, Professor Bretton, please be gentle.