“What’s your name, girl?” the woman asked. She was a colleague of Marissa’s professor in the same department, a woman in her forties and his contemporary.
“Missy, Ma’am.” Her voice was raspy.
Missy was bent over the desk she had squirmed at for the two hour lecture, helplessly stimulated by the vibrator inside her. When everyone else in the class had exited the classroom, Missy had waited in an agony of arousal for her professor to retrieve her. Instead, he had tied her limbs to each leg of the desk, pulled up her skirt to expose her flushed sex. The vibrator stayed on its teasing, aggravatingly low setting. Missy had been mindlessly nursing his cock for the past five minutes. When the door opened and heels clicked across the floor, she had been unable to pull her head back and instead her cry of dismayed shock was muffled around the thick stalk. Missy felt eyes watching her as the professor continued to thrust into her mouth until he came, spurting most of his cum down her throat. He pulled out at the end with a satisfied grunt, rested his penis in her hair and deposited the rest there in a warm gush.
“Quiet,” her professor had ordered. “You’re to follow Professor Grey’s instructions this afternoon, Missy. I expect to receive a positive report from her on your good behavior.”
“Thank you, Professor Harding,” the woman’s voice had said. Feminine fingers dipped into Missy’s cunt and played around. Missy bucked against the rope, rocking the table. The fingers removed the vibrator, and Missy sobbed loudly in the empty hall. Her cunt felt achingly empty, the inner muscles clamping down on nothing. Her head hung limply over the edge of the table.
“Missy, are you a slut?”
“Y-yes, Ma’am.” Missy’s face blushed furiously. Her cunt and ass were exposed, she was tied down, had her face fucked and cum in her hair…and all she wanted was to cum. The answer was obvious, but admitting it caused another trickle of wetness to slide down her thigh.
“What services do you perform for Professor Harding?”
“I…I’m his fuck toy, Ma’am.” Missy felt breathless just saying the words. The woman stood behind her, out of sight. Speaking these words in the empty lecture hall as she was bound was unbearably exciting. “Professor Harding uses me…to relieve his stress. For his pleasure.”
“I see,” came the quiet voice. A finger slid into Missy’s cunt. She twitched, her head raising, her eyes closing. The voice continued, amused, “What else?”
“I…he punishes me. When I…when I make mistakes,” Missy gasped. “Oh, please, Ma’am…”
A second finger pushed inside. The two fingers twisted, turned, hooked. Pressure. Pleasure.
“Ahh…and he disciplines me. Every day, even if I have been good, a g-good girl.”
Missy flailed on the desk. The ropes held her down. The fingers rotated inside just as another traced the rim of her anus. Popped the ring of muscle there, was forced deep. Missy grunted at the fullness, the easy manipulation of her flesh. She smelled the woman’s perfumed body close behind hers. She turned her head to the side and saw the professor, standing there coolly and confidently, watching Missy squirm and gush on her fingers. Missy rubbed her clit hard on the surface of the desk and suddenly she was cumming, shaking the desk, arching against the ropes. The fingers were gone, but she had still came.
“Bad Missy. Bad, bad girl. You did not have permission to cum. I can’t tell you how glad I am you did that. Because I do so love to punish slutty girls who can’t control themselves. Who have no control over their own bodies.”
Wood touched Missy’s bottom.
“A nice, hard paddling…followed by an ass fucking. Only good girls get their clitties played with. Bad Missy, cumming when she wasn’t allowed to.”
(This is the last of the Missy storyline for a while. Here are the previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six. Thank you for reading.)
