
Sleep With My Professor
I reached into my underwear while lifting my t-shirt to my belly button, clutching at the semi-erect cock that was only partially awake due to Professor Edmend's ideas. I had no idea the dude wore t-shirts or leather. His formal teaching attire gave off the impression that he was a rigid adherent to the rules.
"You want to fuck, Professor?"
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Chapter 11
Yes, it was doable. This transformation had been amazing and liberating. I'd been satisfying a fanciful need in my life for the last several months, and it made me feel utterly content. "If I told you it was an A, would you give me an A?"
He stroked the side of my face and my chin as he grinned down at me. "With you in this position, I'd say anything was possible."
"Well, you teach about human behavior," I said. So, if I utilize what I have to obtain what I want, isn't that exploiting human nature?, I say.
He was attempting to cover a grin that indicated he was pleased with what I remembered from his teachings while he chewed on his lips. Since these were essential concepts, it wasn't entirely unexpected that I was aware of them. What's more intriguing, in my opinion, is that you already know a little bit; what's holding you back from learning more?
I said, "I wish your classes were more engaging." It was sincere and accurate.
He continued to grin and look into my eyes while nodding. "Information is important," he said. "There isn't always an interesting way to give you that information," she said. He held my chin and rocked my face back and forth. "I wish you acted more naturally in class. a bit more reserved and attentive.
I argued with him, "But I-I'm not like this outside of here."
"Why not?" I know you're not.
I couldn't contain my chuckles and started laughing. "You'd really want me to show up to class decked out in a tiny dress and my face all painted?" I queried. People might chuckle and believe it to be a joke, but to me, this isn't funny. It's crucial to safeguard the tingling sensation that this emotion gives me within.
He started off by saying, "I'd agree, what I think is nice about this is that you're usually so defiant in class, but here, you want someone to take control of you, don't you?"
My ears were filled with the loud echoing throb of my beating heart. I said, "I-I-I like for someone else to take control." "Master. I'm yours to rule right here. but after we go. It never took place. Therefore, it is up to you to judge if I have been a good or terrible kitty.
He questioned, "Here?" We're counting outdoors, so if-"
"Here."
He grinned. "So you're a good kitten," I said.
I was a nice kitty in this situation, nodding against his palm at my chin and face. My gut and chest shot like pyrotechnics as I heard him name me. I pawed at his palm and informed him, "Good kittens get rewards." "What is my prize?"
He was dealing with a lot behind his eyes. I noticed the gears whirling. There was a lot of room for play in this area. He could persuade me to kiss his body or fetch me a saucer of milk, which I would guzzle down for him if he so desired. Those were pleasures I had so far appreciated, but I had not yet thoroughly explored that sensation.
He questioned, "What rewards do you like?"
I gave a headshake. I resisted making a decision. I wanted someone else to make the decision. I need a different authority figure. I like how someone else determined whether I had been nice or terrible and what it involved. Milk, kisses, and hugs were given to good kittens. Bad kitties received spankings and gagging. "I'm not sure. How do you feel?
Can I-can I see you undress?
In this performance, the garments served as my shield. I knew nothing else at the moment, but it was all I needed to know.
I grabbed at the dress' white frills on the breast while standing. "Why don't you just take it off of me?"
The master stood with a bulge in his pants. He instantly put a hand over it and moved behind me. We had comparable heights. My neck felt his breath. His gentle, raspy voice tickled, saying, "I don't know what you're doing to me." However, you're making me insane.
I said, "You study people. You explain what I'm doing, please.
He carefully unpinned the dress's rear buttons. He remarked, "You're giving me something I didn't know I wanted." It feels outlawed. He pulled my arm away from the dress sleeve and ran his fingers down the length of my arms. "Like a dream where I learn something new about myself."
It reminded me of how I felt at the time. forbidden and taboo, tucked away in a secret chamber in a big Manor home off the beaten path. This was the farthest I could go from reality. Being myself was challenging because I had a reputation to maintain, but in this place, I had none. I had just the interest of males and some silky cloth on my body.
My shoulders gave out, and the garment plummeted to the ground. I was dressed in a thong and bow-adorned thigh-high tights. His hands immediately spread my cheeks and began to pull as the thong string seemed to get eaten up by my hole. He continued, kissing my back and putting his clothes-clad body against mine, "You're still so young." His hips pushed into my behind, and I felt the belt's cold, heavy metal on my flesh. He let out, offering another shove from his lips, "I shouldn't be doing this.
I said, "But you want to.
And I'm aware that I shouldn't.
"So, you ought to stop."
He took a step back and put a hand on my waist, massaging my skin with his thumbs. "You're right," he said. This isn't supposed to be occurring. Your instructor, I am.
I sighed and tilted my head in his direction. "Teach me anything, if you're such a brilliant instructor. I replied, "Teach me how to pronounce your name with my tongue.
He squeezed my cheeks firmly before sliding his hands back to his ass. "Once again."
My hard cock was forced down into the front slot of the thong, the kind they used for male stripper shows, as I rotated fully. Okay, I replied. "I hope you'll remember me later, when you're beating your meat."
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7.6
Anna Brown, the formidable mafia princess of the Brown clan, once shared a passionate bond with Daniel White-the "Silver Fox" of New York's underworld-whose Christmas vow of eternal love had her believing in a future together.
But when Daniel's tattoo artist lover Lola brands Anna with a humiliating slur and claims to carry his child, Anna's devotion curdles into ruthless revenge.
She strips Daniel of his power, freezes his assets, and exposes Lola's greed, only to watch Daniel spiral into the clutches of the vicious gangster Grizzly.
As Christmas memories of roasted sweet potatoes and rose-lined proposals fade, Anna confronts the bitter truth: some love, like a cold sweet potato, can never be warmed again.

8.9
For three years, Alana acted as the sole tactical brain for the Dawnbreaker squad, keeping them alive despite being labeled a useless "Dud" Conduit.
But right before the crucial Ascension Trials, squad leader Cash handed her a corporate sponsorship contract. The condition? She had to become the "private companion" to a greasy corporate heir just so the squad could get high-tier gear.
When she refused, the teammates she had bled for unanimously voted to kick her out.
"You're just window dressing, a liability."
They revoked her safehouse access, burned her belongings, and the academy advisor even tried to force her into a state-sanctioned breeding program. They left her to freeze in the slums, betting she would desperately crawl into the rich man's bed.
What they didn't know was that her inability to summon an Eidolon wasn't a lack of talent. Her teammate Dallin had been secretly sabotaging her rituals for years, crippling her potential just to keep her chained as their free tactician.
Stripped of everything and pushed to the absolute brink, Alana's despair morphed into a deadly resolve.
Using a million-credit black market loan and a forbidden blood matrix, she forcibly anchored an Apex-Tier cosmic wolf disguised as a harmless silver pup.
When her ex-squad tried to publicly humiliate her and burn her new "pet" alive in the cafeteria, a flash of silver light severed Dallin's hand instantly.
Looking at her screaming former teammates, Alana finally smiled.

7.2
Elena stood flawless in her bridal gown. Five years of molding herself for Dante Moretti and a powerful mafia treaty culminated now. This dress was her only solace.
Then her phone buzzed. A text from Dante: "Wedding canceled." Two cold words, no explanation. Her world shattered, heart a sledgehammer blow.
Dante answered her call from a hospital, commanding her to leave, no apology. Her father and 500 mafia guests outside whispered of "humiliation." Marco then cleared Dante's things, revealing he was moving his long-comatose 'white swan,' Sofia, into their intended home. Her father's ultimatum: win Dante back in thirty days, or be married to a sadistic Russian boss.
Discarded, betrayed, and trapped, Elena felt absolute humiliation. She despised five years wasted, facing a fate worse than death. But as tears blurred her vision, a dangerous thought ignited: Dante wasn't the only Moretti. She wouldn't cry or beg. Instead, she'd choose the most terrifying Moretti of all, and make Dante pay for his arrogance.

8.0
My fiancé thought he was manipulating a naive heiress, unaware I had video proof of him plotting to commit me to an asylum.
He planned to steal my inheritance with my cousin, but tonight, I' m not signing a marriage license.
I' m signing his death warrant.
For years, I played the role of the docile, grateful orphan while Holden and Dianne mocked me behind my back.
They called me mentally incompetent, laughing as they planned to strip me of my father' s legacy and lock me away.
I watched them parade around my birthday gala, smug in their victory, treating me like a fragile doll on the verge of a breakdown.
They expected tears. They expected submission.
Instead, they got a cold-blooded execution.
In front of the entire New York elite, I didn't hand my voting rights to the golden boy who promised to love me.
I walked past him and handed the charter to the one man the entire family feared.
Hazen Ingram.
The scarred, silent "monster" of the dynasty.
As Holden screamed and was dragged away by security, I realized something terrifyingly beautiful.
I didn't just choose revenge.
I chose the only man who ever truly protected me.

9.0
Once a pampered princess, Alaina now clutched a deactivated American Express card, staring out at Central Park. Her family’s fortune was gone, her life, over.
Her family's Hamptons estate, a four-generation legacy, was seized by Dyer Capital. The name hit her: Hardin Dyer, the poor boy she’d once scorned, had returned.
Hardin marched in, serving a divorce agreement. He'd orchestrated her family's downfall for revenge, giving her 24 hours to vacate his property. Penniless, her father faced prison, needing $50 million. Her mother forced her to beg Hardin, who sneered, offering the money for her body. Alaina ripped up the contract.
Hours later, her father had a heart attack. Desperate, she became "Lexi," a club girl enduring humiliation. In the Viper Room, Hardin's lackeys demanded she lick whiskey off his shoe for $10,000. Hardin watched. Outside, her brother Ashton's hand was threatened for a $3 million debt. Spirit shattered, Alaina returned, knelt on broken glass, offering to sign. But Hardin declared her family "dead," offering $10 million for her body, commanding her to use her mouth.
In a furious act of defiance, Alaina threw whiskey in his face, snatched the check, and fled. Yet, when he finally took her, a searing, foreign pain and blood on the sheets revealed a shocking truth: he had never touched her three years ago. Why had he let her believe such a monstrous lie?

8.9
"Hands on the bed Tessa" Killian growled behind his voice rough and unsteady.
My eyes widened as he pulls my legs apart and comes in between them and wraps the belt tightly against my neck choking out my breath from me
But you're my stepbrother I choked against his hold.
He smiles as he tighten his grip on the belt"Little slutty girls like you deserved to fucked.