I never have long to wait for clients, and I never know where they are going to take me; just that I will be taken, I will find myself wet and open and a cock, or several, slipping into me while the fire of my lust brings me to the edge of that inner space of pure delight...

Today, as I sit waiting for John, my client who likes to pretend to be my university professor and spank and punish me, I sip a glass of champagne and look out of the window at the grey street below, and think about my real university days, and how the little game we play is not so far from the truth. 

The truth is that soon after I arrived in university my life took a bizarre turn and I graduated in more than I’d bargained for.

My hand glides under my dress and finds my clit as I remember...

I sat alone in the back of the draughty panelled lecture hall and let my mind wander while the lecturer droned and my coursemates scribbled. I looked around and then slipped a hand under my rather staid mid-length skirt to stroke my pussy. “I think better when I’m aroused”, I smiled to myself. I’d already decided to deviate from the college style and avoid jeans. I liked to keep my pussy ready to hand, so to speak. My fingers began to slide gently over my vagina and I felt the slick wetness seep the gusset of my knickers and the familiar warm sweetness flow though me.

I thought about my girlfriend Rebecca giving me a good flogging on me bare bottom, then sucking my tits and cunt until I came, over and over again, and reminding me that she would see me soon, hear all my adventures, and give me the thrashing and fucking I would no doubt deserve..

I paused long before orgasm and willed my throbbing cunt into silence, making myself wait. As my delight ebbed I looked around. I looked at the students and wondered which of them would fuck me in the terms to come. “Anyone who’s interesting and who asks me nicely” I said to myself. Some of the girls were very promising... Rebecca had ordered me to find a lover, one that would be open to sharing me with Rebecca when I came to visit. One girl who sat at the front caught my eye, a tall girl with raven hair and a figure which not even her almost formal, expensive clothes could conceal. “I wonder”, I mused, aroused again now as I imagined tonguing Rebecca as I caressed the beautiful stranger, Rebecca caning our twin upturned bottoms, then fucking us in turn with her strap-on as we kissed and fondled...

I could bear it no longer. I raised my hand and stood; the lecturer, my tutor, a gloomy man in his 30s, clearly a tortured soul, broke off and glared at me, then nodded curtly and I made my way along the bench to the aisle. “Not sure about him”, I thought as I entered the cubicle, but then I dismissed him from my mind, sat on the toilet seat and unceremoniously yanked down my panties and gave my swollen clitoris the attention it required, frigging myself to orgasm, knickers down, legs splayed, head thrown back, struggling to stifle my moans... “I’ve got to get laid, quickly” I thought as I pulled up my damp knickers. “I wonder who ...”

My tutor was still glaring when I saw him after lunch for a study supervision. My first essay lay on the desk and he hadn’t liked it. 

“You’re completely off topic here. I know how much you like Blake but this is appreciation, not criticism. Haven’t you read Harold Bloom on the Songs, as you were supposed to?”

“I’m sorry, I...”

“You didn’t have time. I know. Well if all you want to do is have fun why don’t you go to Ibiza and have done with it? This is a place of learning, not a kindergarten for teenagers. But it’s not just that. You’ve plagiarized most of your introduction, and now you’re in real trouble.”

I burst into tears. I’d had no time and used the internet and now I was caught and could be sent down. I had no choice but to play the vulnerable female card. Something in me sensed that it would work with this man. My shoulders shook and I buried my face in my hands. My tutor watched with horror. He hated to see a girl cry.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly, it’s just... you new girls don’t seem to understand... Oh please, for God’s sake, stop crying!” I cried harder. He came round the desk and put his hand stiffly on my shoulder. I clutched it and wet it with my tears.

“I’m sorry, I’m so lonely here, I miss my boyfriend and... “

“There, there... I suppose you could re-submit the essay...”

I looked up at him, hope shining through my tears, clutching his hand, piteous. 

“Could I... that would be wonderful... please, please, I’ll do anything...” I looked him straight in the eye as I said it, so that he would be in no doubt what I meant.

I moved closer to him and now I could smell him, tobacco and musk and male power. He stood close beside me and I could feel his erection pressing into my shoulder and I wanted him, his anger turned he on and made me melt inside and my eagerness to appease him, to win his approval, filled me with desire. 

“I should let the Head of Department punish you for plagiarism. But just this once, I’ll deal with it myself. But never do this again, do you hear?”

“Yes sir, I swear, please punish me and let me go... “ I looked him directly in the eyes. I saw him tremble a little and smiled secretly to myself as I watched desire get the better of him.

“Right. Now dry your eyes and go to that cupboard over there and bring me what you find there.”

“I was sniffling now and my cheeks were wet with tears. I looked at him with fear and awe and gratitude.

“Thank you sir. .. “

“Go on now.”

I rose and crossed the room and opened the cupboard. Standing in the corner was a cane, a bamboo rod with a curved neck and a leather ferrule. I gasped and looked back at him. He was watching me, and I could see the bulge in his tweed trousers. I bent my head and took out the cane and brought it to him. He took it and swished it through the air. I moaned.

“Enough of that. Bend over.”

I dutifully bent over the desk and pressed my face against the leather blotter. He lifted my skirt and admired my beautiful rounded bum, quivering slightly as I quaked with fear, shaking with tiny sobs. My buttocks were firm and well muscled, the backs of my thighs tensed, my white panties showing the deep cleft of my arse, the gusset bulging slightly over the moist pussy beneath.

“You have a pretty arse, I. Has your boyfriend ever told you?”

“Yes sir!”

“Does he know you’re a bad girl?”

“No sir...”

“What do bad girls deserve, I?”

“To be punished, sir... “


“A flogging, sir...”

“Do you deserve a flogging I?

“Yes, sir.”


“On my bottom, sir.”

“Your choice, I... Either I flog you myself or we take your essay to the Head of Department.”

I turned to him and pleaded, my long blonde hair falling over my tearstained face, my blue eyes begging for mercy. My big firm arse trembled as though it too appealed for the mercy of the cane.

“Oh please, sir, flog me... you do it to me, please!”

“Very well. You may have 10 with your knickers on or 5 with them off. Which?”

I knew that the cane on my bare arse would hurt far more but I wanted to feel him flogging me and I wanted him to see me naked cunt while he punished me.

“Please... I’d like my knickers off, sir.”

“Get them off then”, he ordered.

He watched as I reached back and hooked my thumbs in the elastic and slipped my white cotton panties over the twin mounds of my bum. I pulled my knickers half-way down my thighs. I parted my legs slightly so that he could see my rosy puckered anus and lifted my arse so that my cunt was also on view, with its damp golden pubic curls, wet with my arousal.

He was standing beside me now, and he roughly hiked my skirt up to my waist and pulled my blouse up so that he could see my slim waist and long smooth-curving back, my breasts squashed against the polished desktop. 

“Hands by your sides”.

Obediently I stretched my arms down; my palms were open and upwards, my face pressed hard against the leather workpad. He took a fistful of me blonde hair and jerked my head upwards, turning my face to that I could see him as he flogged me. As my face rose my back arched and my bum rose, buttocks clenched. He knows how to flog a girl, I thought to myself through my desire and terror. The waiting was unbearable and I longed for the pain and the release. I was panting now and my shoulders shook. He smiled and I could see that I was longing for his cane on my arse.

“Please sir...”

He brought the cane down on my arse with a thwack. 


The pain lanced through me and I moaned, whipping my head against his grip, my arse on fire now, writhing to escape the pain, one leg rising involuntarily, the black court shoe dangling, almost off.

“Look at me when I flog you. And keep your feet on the floor.”

I opened my eyes and looked at him and he held my gaze; his eyes seemed to turn the pain into arousal, delight, desire, a fierce hunger for his cock inside me, for him to fuck me. I knew that he could see it in my eyes and he smiled again.

“You really are a horny young lady, aren’t you, I?

“Yes sir” I panted.

“Now keep the noise down. You’re disturbing my neighbour. Or I’ll have to gag you”. His smile mocked me. I relished his contempt and my own degradation. I wanted another stroke, and another, and the pain, and then the pain turning into this wild blazing desire that flooded my cunt and belly and nipples and made my heart hammer and me almost swoon with need...

“I can’t sir, it hurts too much... Please gag me...” I blubbered, my eyes pleading.

“Open the drawer.” He gestured with the cane. Arse red and quivering, stifling my sobs, I scrabbled in the desk drawer. Through my tears I saw a ball with straps and I took it out and reached back and gave it to him. He straddled me from behind and I braced my arms on the desk and pushed my sore bum against his crotch as he fastened the straps around my head. Then I took the ball in my mouth and gagged at the size and texture of the rubber.

“Mmmph...” My moan was silenced. I felt the straps tight around my head and the huge ball distorting my face, my cheeks ballooning out grotesquely, my eyes popping, mouth stretched open by the ball. Saliva dripped down my chin.

“Mmmm!” I moaned again, in shock and protest.

“Shut up. Now look at me”.

I didn’t want him to see me like this and then I wanted it more than anything, and I swung my face towards him so he could see me distorted face, gagged and humiliated, see what he had done to me, enjoy my shame. I saw the relish in his eyes and I relaxed my body completely, so he could see my acceptance and submission. I looked at him, waiting for his cane.

Whack! Again my buttocks flared and my body arched in agony, the pain so intense tears came to my eyes and then the pain was delight again, a flood of pleasure sweeping from my cunt to my belly to my tits, filling me.

“MMMM!!” I threw my head back and screamed into the gag, moaned, sobbed.

Whack! The third stroke was hard as the first and second but I had learned how to keep my body still now and my feet on the floor, and to surrender to the agony completely, knowing that this was the alchemy that turned pain into delight. I swung my head and my hair whipped and beads of sweat and tears fell on the desktop. I looked at him, my eyes pleading above the gag-mask.

“Another?” He was enjoying this, my pain, my surrender, the lust that was turning me into a female animal, in heat, wild for fucking.

I bobbed my head, hair in my eyes. “MMM!”

He gripped my hair again and this time I kept my eyes on his as he thrashed me, moaning constantly now, my arse bucking and rising to the cane and relishing the merciless flogging he was giving me. Then he threw the cane aside and mounted me, like a dog, his hands gripping my hips and his cock thrusting into my dripping pussy and fucking me harder and harder until I came again and again and then I felt his spunk flooding me and then, spent, he dropped me, gasping and moaning. Neither spoke as we struggled for breath. 

I lay supine, drenched in sweat, flat on my stomach, my legs parted and my thighs slippery with come, my cunt wet and open, face down, gasping into my gag. Slowly the ecstasy receded and I returned to the world, and to the pain... my arse was on fire, on fire. I sobbed.

“Poor little Carla”, he said, compassionate and yet relishing my suffering and his own power, his own cruelty, enjoying my need for pain and submission.

I heard the click of a camera and I realised with horror that he was taking a memento, a trophy for his collection and to show his friends; my pride briefly rebelled at being photographed like this, naked and gagged and flogged and fucked.... then I realised that I loved him using me like that, I relished my degradation by him as he loved to degrade me; I lifted my arse so he and the camera and the unseen viewers could get a good look at my red weals and my cum-filled cunt, flipping him a finger in ironic protest. He laughed appreciatively and the camera clicked again. Jesus, I thought, I want to be fucked again... my lust flamed in me and I moaned, whimpered, almost in desperation.

He laughed warmly. 

“You really are horny, aren’t you?”

“Mmmm!” I bobbed my head, looking back at him as I lay prone on his desk, my eyes pleading.

“Perhaps you’d like to meet my neighbour... seems a waste not to let him have you?” 

I bobbed my head again and waited, frantic with lust and expectation, as he left the room and I heard him talking to another man outside. The his footsteps returned. There was another man with him.

“I thought you’d enjoy meeting Carla, and I know Carla wants to meet you”.

“Quite lovely. Ready for another fucking, my dear? The stranger’s voice was amused, contemptuous. He had had many sluts like me and it thrilled me to be another.

I nodded and grunted through the mask. 

I could feel the stranger’s eyes on me, exploring my body, and I opened myself to his unseen gaze, lifting my arse so he could see my cunt, desperate suddenly for his cock. I felt his hand stroking my bruised and welted arse and felt his appreciation of my beauty and my degradation and his lust to fuck me. I opened my legs to receive his cock and he thrust unceremoniously into me and fucked me, hard and fast,. My tutor stood in front of me and as I braced myself to take the stranger’s thrusts he stripped off my mask and I let him take my hair in his hands and push my face into his crotch; he pushed his cock deep in my mouth and fucked my face as his friend came, his cock pounding my cunt and filling me with cum, cum ripping down my legs as I swallowed the cum gushing into my open willing mouth.

The stranger smacked my arse lightly, appreciatively, and then left the room. As I lay face-down, bruised and fucked, I thought to myself that he had fucked me and I didn’t even know his name or what he looked like. But he knew who I was, and that he could have me again, just take me, any time, any way he wanted... my mind reeled, my pussy throbbed with excitement. The knowledge thrilled me as I eased my panties over my sore bottom.

My tutor poured us both a sherry as I dressed and then we sat together, in the armchairs by the fire. I couldn’t stop smiling at him and he grinned back at me, as though he were a boy again I thought.

“I hope there won’t be any trouble with the essay, will there sir?”

“I shouldn't think so, my dear. I think you’re going to be a very good student indeed, Carla. You have excellent prospects here at the College. By the way, I like your reading of Blake’s “Secret Rose”....

We chatted about poetry and I felt the fire and the sherry warming me, and my bottom glowing from the flogging. My cunt was quiet now, happily double-fucked. I looked through the window at the leafy quadrangle and thought that such places of higher learning were wonderful, after all...

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