| my first year at university, when i was seventeen, i had a short, fervid affair with my english lit tutor. he was thirty-five and recently divorced, a first-generation hungarian whose parents had emigrated after the second world war. i was fascinated by his dark tortured eyes and restless hands and the way he carried himself, as though he was struggling with a long-borne burden. i thought him impossibly romantic and i wondered about his secrets. i wanted to lay his head on my breast and run my fingers through his hair, to listen to his stories and take them into myself. i made plans to know him better. i came to him for help with my essays, asked him to recommend books i ought to read, offered to babysit his young children, pushed myself into his life. he treated me kindly, absently, never allowing the slightest hint of impropriety in his dealings with me. i became obsessed. i longed to be swept into his arms, to be kissed with all the passion i knew was in him, to feel his hands upon me. i would gaze at him during class, daydreaming, listening to his dark rich voice and imagining him speaking words of need and desire. i began to feel as though i might go mad if he never touched me. one thursday night as winter was beginning to settle, i lagged back after class, intending to ask him for help with a piece i was writing for the campus newspaper. as the last student left the room and the door snicked closed behind her, he turned to his desk, becoming immersed in paperwork. i approached him and showed him my article. he was more distant than ever, barely listening to my questions, offering suggestions he clearly hadn’t thought through. timidly, i asked if he was all right, and he finally met my eyes and looked at me for a long, long time. ‘i would be all right if i could get you out of my head,’ he said quietly, at last. and as i stared back at him, processing his words, he took my elbows in his hands and pulled me against the length of his body. ‘the things i want to do to you, little girl,’ he murmured, and then his mouth was on mine. from the very first the kiss was ungentle, an assertion of power and control. i yielded to him instantly. i was so desperate to have him i didn’t care about the terms. it wasn’t long before his hands were on me, fingers twisting my nipples, stroking my ass, marking my breast. he moved between soft caresses and sharp pinches, and his mouth moved down my throat, kissing and biting and licking my skin. and all the while he murmured harsh words to me in his soft voice, sweet words and cruel words, telling me i was beautiful, dirty, his angel, his whore. i was so wet, so ready, that when he slid his hand inside my cotton panties and curled his long fingers inside me i came instantly, shuddering, biting down on his shoulder to muffle my screams. he hissed in triumph. ‘i knew you’d be like this,’ he said in my ear, his hot breath sending shivers through me. it was not nearly enough. still impaled on his fingers, i thrust my hips at him wantonly, the movement forcing his fingers deeper inside me and his thumb against my aching clitoris. a fire started low in my belly. ‘please,’ i implored under my breath, the first word i’d spoken since he kissed me. he chuckled. but, ‘not tonight,’ he said low in my ear, and withdrew his fingers from me. i stumbled backward a step, my clothes rucked sideways and my mouth swollen from his kiss. he couldn’t mean it? ‘go home,’ he told me. ‘think of me when you’re in bed tonight.’ and he turned away in obvious dismissal. i spent the next few days in a state of agitation, anxious for my next tutorial with him. when finally it came around i barely said a word during class and he hardly even glanced at me. afterwards i stayed back, waiting. this time as the door closed i waited for him to speak. ‘so, little girl,’ he said. ‘did you do as i told you? did you think about me when you were lying alone in your bed?’ ‘i can’t stop thinking about you,’ i told him baldly. and then i took a step toward him. ‘please, i’ll do anything. i just want you to fuck me. please.’ he smiled down at me for a long moment. ‘show me you mean it.’ ‘how?’ he put a hand on my shoulder and pressed downward; i sank to my knees. i needed no further clues. i reached for him, unzipping his pants, sliding my hands inside his undershorts. he was half-hard, and i could already tell that, fully erect, he’d almost be more than a match for me. the thought made me shiver in delight, and i bent forward and took him into my mouth. he groaned as he sank deep into my throat, winding his fingers in my hair. i pulled back slowly, letting my tongue play over his length until just the tip of his cock was in my mouth. i scraped my teeth gently over the head, licking delicately along his shaft. i felt his hands tighten on my hair and opened my mouth to let him slide in again. in and out, in a slowly increasing rhythm, my fingers tracing his hipbone, cupping his balls, stroking the hard curve of his ass. i sucked him deep into my throat and then drew back til i was barely touching him, teasing until he moaned impatiently and gripped my head in his hands and thrust his hips forward. i choked, couldn’t breathe, and he fucked my mouth harder, faster, his fingers winding tighter in my hair, thrusting and driving into my throat until with a low growl his hips stilled and his stomach muscles tightened and i felt hot, thick come spurting into my mouth. he held me still to make sure i swallowed every last drop and only when i struggled against him, desperate for air, did he release me, abruptly and without care, letting me fall to the floor. ‘good,’ he said calmly, zipping up his pants and turning away from me. ‘you suck cock like a real little slut.’ i lay crumpled on the carpet where he’d let me fall, gasping for breath, my cunt throbbing and wet inside my white cotton panties. i stared up at him, waiting. he turned back around. ‘what are you still doing here?’ ‘what?’ ‘go home.’ i didn’t move. he walked over to me and took a handful of my hair and used it to pull me to my feet. i couldn’t help shrieking in pain. ‘listen, little girl. you have to learn to do what i say immediately. no questions asked. i’ll let you off lightly this time, but you have to be punished.’ he looked at me thoughtfully. he still held me by the hair; he was much taller than me and he held his arm so high i was on tiptoes. tears were smarting in my eyes. ‘what do you want me to do?’ i asked desperately. he smiled. ‘i want you to go home tonight and think of me again. but this time, you can’t touch yourself.’ i blushed. ‘i’ll know if you have,’ he warned, and finally he loosened his fingers a little, easing some of the pressure on my scalp. ‘do you understand?’ he waited while i nodded and then let me go. it was so hard. he invaded my dreams and clouded my waking hours and every time i thought about his fingers inside me or his cock in my mouth i had to clench my fingers to keep from touching my own skin. by the time our next tutorial rolled around i was on the verge of insanity and i could barely wait for my last classmate to leave before i leapt over to him and stood before him, trembling, not daring to touch him. he smirked at me, looking me up and down. my cheeks were flushed, my lips parted, my nipples hard. he chuckled. ‘yes, i can see you’ve done as i told you. you’ve been a very good girl.’ he reached out and with one finger delicately stroked my nipple. i whimpered. ‘yes, very good,’ he said silkily. ‘now come here and get your reward.’ i stepped into his arms, closing my eyes and raising my face to his lips, expecting his kiss. what happened instead was this. his right hand circled my throat and his left hand reached under my skirt and slid between my legs, his fingers curling into me hard. with his hands gripped round my throat and my cunt he lifted me up, took two steps into the room and threw me down on the carpet. i landed hard with the breath knocked out of me, my hip and shoulder bruised and tender, and he was instantly on the floor on top of me, holding me down by the throat, clawing urgently at my clothes with his other hand. buttons flew off my sweater and rolled into the far corners of the room. he wrenched so hard on the zipper of my skirt that it broke irreparably. my panties were so flimsy he easily snapped the elastic and threw them into the wastebasket. when i was naked he paused and looked down at me, growling in pleasure. ‘you look just barely fourteen,’ he told me. ‘i’ve waited so long to break you.’ then he clenched his hand fiercely around my throat, pushed between my legs and drove his long, thick cock into me so hard i almost blacked out from pain. i couldn’t help crying out, tears springing to my eyes as i looked up at him pleadingly. his dark eyes softened and he released his grip on my throat, gathering me gently into his arms. ‘poor little girl,’ he murmured. ‘i’m sorry i hurt you.’ i was all mixed up. i shouldn’t be loving it when his fingers dug into the soft curve of my breast, or when he spoke to me cruelly, calling me a slut and a whore, or when he held me by the throat or the hair so that he could make me do what he wanted me to. but i did love it. i craved it. so i whispered to him, ‘i don’t care what you do to me.’ i watched his face change and darken as he absorbed my words, and then he smiled a different smile. i felt his fingers tighten on my upper arms, felt him draw back, sliding slowly out of me. i felt the walls of my cunt clutching at his cock as it withdrew, felt my body turning into liquid. and then he paused at my entrance and looked down at me and then with one smooth long thrust he was inside me to the hilt. he fucked me well that night. later, he made me walk home across campus in the dark, clutching my ragged sweater closed, holding my skirt together with my other hand. the next day he told me he’d followed me in his car, playing mind-games with himself, wondering what he’d do if i was attacked: would he step in and save me, or would he watch? he loved that i was small and slender and that i looked young for my age. he liked me to wear my hair in two braids or pigtails and to keep my makeup light and my lipgloss clear. he liked my preppy short skirts and my button-down sweaters and my knee-length boots, so that was what i wore for him. after a while i never wore anything underneath. i wanted to be accessible to his hands at all times. i existed in a constant state of hyper-arousal and the only thing that could quench my need for a few moments was being with him. i was not a virgin, but he made me feel as though none of the experiences i’d ever had counted. as our affair continued his tastes grew bolder, more creative. he began to order me to do things i’d never have considered a few months before. and i did them gladly. i was enthralled; i’d have done whatever he wanted. and what he wanted most was to humiliate me, degrade me, shame me, brand me as his own. there were so many things he made me do that still make me blush when i think about them. and perhaps i’ll tell those stories another time. but the first time he truly made it known to me that he owned me was one night in the depths of winter when our tutorial group was discussing twentieth-century erotic literature. he had ordered me earlier to come to class wearing my shortest pleated skirt and the cashmere sweater he gave me, the one with the low neck and the buttons all down the front. he told me to unhook the first three buttons on the sweater, and he told me i was not to wear a bra or panties. i knew i would have to obey him if i wanted to be rewarded after class, and so i dressed (half-dressed) with shaking fingers. i was early to class and he smiled when he saw me, approving. ‘good girl,’ he said. ‘now listen to me; if i ask you to do something for me in class today you must do it, no questions asked. understand?’ i nodded. ‘go and sit down.’ i took my place in the circle of chairs, crossing my legs. ‘no, no.’ he looked at me angrily. ‘don’t cross your legs.’ i arranged my knees together primly. he strode over to me impatiently, put his hands on my knees and pushed them apart. ‘i want you to sit like this.’ i gaped at him. i’d worn no underwear, as he’d ordered. if i sat like this everybody in class would be able to see up my skirt. he looked at me consideringly and then snapped open another button. my sweater now gaped open so far that if i moved a centimetre my nipples would be exposed. satisfied, he turned away to gather his books just as the door opened to admit the class. there were eleven of them; eight boys and thee girls. as they filed in and took their places round the circle i saw them catching sight of me and nudging each other. heat flamed in my cheeks and i longed to close my legs but i didn’t dare. i watched as one of the boys, a tall redhead with a cheeky grin who sometimes flirted with me on the way to class, deliberately chose the seat directly opposite me. he made no secret of looking between my legs and then dragging his smirking gaze up to meet my eyes. the shame was terrible. i could feel my cunt turning to liquid. then my tutor took his place in the circle and began the discussion, ignoring me completely. true to his word, today’s topic was erotic literature. as he read us passages from d h lawrence and anais nin, i watched as around the room collars were loosened, adam’s apples bobbed, hair was twisted in trembling fingers. the air was a miasma of lust and i was swimming in my own juices. then i heard my name and i jerked to attention. he was asking me to reach down a particular book from the high shelf behind me. i swallowed. this was going to be ... visual. carefully i stepped onto my chair, stood on tiptoes and reached above my head for the book he wanted. i could hear muffled sighs as everyone around the room gazed up my short skirt and feasted his eyes on my dripping cunt. as i took my seat, careful to keep my knees parted and my hips tilted forward, my gaping sweater slipped off my shoulders and down to my waist and my breasts were completely exposed. there was a collective gasp. the only thing i could do was cover myself quickly and pretend it had never happened. but i couldn’t settle the sweater back on my shoulders properly no matter how much i surreptitiously twitched at it, and i had to grit my teeth and try to ignore the fact that both of my breasts were almost fully exposed, my nipples framed by the edges of the sweater. that class lasted forever, and afterwards nobody wanted to leave. the boys stood around chatting lamely about pornographic comics and the girls fluttered around my tutor, all tossing hair and heaving bosoms. all of them kept casting glances at me where i sat in my place, knowing he wouldn’t want me to move. but i was getting desperate and i didn’t know how much longer i could hold out. it seemed hours before he finally forced the last students out the door and locked it behind them. when he turned to me he was smiling widely. ‘you did very well tonight, my sweet girl,’ he told me tenderly. ‘god, you’re so hot. you had everybody in the room wanting to be inside your sweet cunt.’ i moaned in answer and bit my lower lip hard. hearing my need, he crossed the room and lifted me to my feet. ‘i have just one more task for you, angel,’ he said, and then he pulled open his desk drawer and drew out a choke-collar and a pair of nipple-clamps. i stared at him, wide-eyed. ‘that redheaded boy is waiting outside for a consultation,’ he murmured, stroking my throat with the tip of his finger. ‘why don’t you take care of it?’ i couldn’t believe what he was asking me to do. ‘i can’t,’ i begged him. his face turned dark and his fingers encircled my throat. ‘are you disobeying me?’ i wavered. i would do anything for him, but ... and as i hesitated his hand tightened quickly about my throat and he squeezed, hard, until i saw stars. i struggled for breath. ‘i’ll do it,’ i managed, and he let me go. ‘put this on first.’ he handed me the collar and i fastened it round my neck. he clipped a long leash to the collar, looping the other end around his wrist. ‘now these.’ he gave me the clamps. blushing, i tightened them around my nipples. the sensation was on the knife-edge of pain and i shivered. i faced him and he looked at me critically, then ripped open the remaining buttons on my sweater, leaving it hanging loose. ‘now,’ he ordered. i opened the door and asked the redheaded boy to come in, my voice rasping in my throat. my tutor jerked the leash and i stepped quickly back to his side. the boy could not take his eyes off my upturned breasts with their clamped, rosy nipples. ‘what -?’ he stammered and then gave up, stepping into the room. the door locked itself behind him. the boy glanced confusedly at my tutor and then returned to me, unable to take his eyes off me. my tutor spoke from just behind me, his tone bizarrely conversational. ‘you want her, don’t you? you want this hot, dirty little piece of ass.’ the boy gulped. i clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. it was so unbearably hot when he spoke of me like this. ‘you want to bite those cherry-red nipples, don’t you?’ he continued, his tone still light and matter-of-fact. ‘you want to sink your teeth into those little breasts; they’re barely more than a mouthful.’ the redhead boy took a jerky step towards me. ‘go on,’ my tutor encouraged. ‘touch her. she’s a hot little slut. she’ll love it.’ i was quivering as the boy tentatively reached out a hand. he placed one finger on my nipple and i leapt like i’d been scalded. a low moan escaped me and i looked at the boy pleadingly. ‘see?’ my tutor’s voice was silky. ‘i told you she’d love it. now see what happens when you touch her cunt.’ the boy froze. my tutor tugged the leash warningly and i knew what he wanted, so i reached round with shaking hands and unzipped my skirt, letting it fall to my feet. the boy dropped to his knees before me and raised his hands to my thighs. for a moment he found his voice. ‘are you sure this is okay?’ he asked, looking up at me. ‘don’t speak to her,’ my tutor said sharply. ‘what she wants is irrelevant. i told you to touch her.’ the boy wavered for a moment, perhaps thinking this was all too strange for him. but my musky scent so close to his face was too tempting, and he skimmed his hands up my thighs, his fingers sliding deliciously into my cunt. my knees buckled and i sagged. my tutor snapped the leash again, jerking my head backward and squeezing my throat. the boy propped me upright with his hands on my thighs and leaned in to lap at me. his teeth closed gently around my clitoris and i bucked and screamed, the collar tightening around my neck with every sharp movement. with his free hand my tutor reached round and tugged on one of my nipple clamps. agony lanced through me. then the boy pushed his tongue deep into my cunt, pressing his mouth against me, his teeth scraping my clitoris, and i shuddered in delight and came. before i could recover my tutor yanked hard on my leash, sending me sprawling to the floor, dragging me across the carpet. ‘get on your hands and knees,’ he ordered me and i complied. the boy stood behind me, shocked, and my tutor said, ‘do you want to fuck her cunt, or do you want her tight little asshole?’ the boy moaned and stumbled toward me, unbuckling his belt as he went. he dropped to his knees behind me and traced the cleft of my buttocks with one finger. he looked up at my tutor. ‘can i really fuck her ass?’ i was shivering with mingled lust and fear. nobody had ever fucked me that way before. my tutor considered, then shook his head. ‘not this time. i haven’t had her like that yet.’ i felt mingled relief and disappointment, and then the boy was pushing his penis against me, forcing himself into me without finesse. i tightened around him to slow his thrusts, guiding him into a rhythm that sent shocks along my spine, my eyes closing, almost humming in delight. and then without warning my head was jerked back. my eyes flew open and i opened my mouth to protest, but before i could speak my tutor rammed his cock into my mouth. i opened my throat and took him in. i could feel the boy getting close to losing control; his hands were grabbing tightly at my hips, leaving fingermarks on my white skin. i swirled my tongue around my tutor’s cock, wanting desperately to make him come at the same time as the boy. i wanted to be filled with come, thrust full of cock. at that moment i was the dirty little whore my tutor always said i was. the boy was thrusting faster, harder, beginning to moan and sigh. i could feel my tutor’s penis growing thicker and harder, could feel his hips jerking, his hand tightening in my hair. and then the boy groaned harshly and pushed into me, his semen surging deep into my cunt. i squeezed my inner muscles around the boy and sucked thirstily at my tutor’s penis, needing to make him come, needing to climax myself. i could feel the boy ebbing out of me and i reached up to my tutor desperately. he saw my need. quick as a flash, he flipped me onto my back and drove his swollen cock into me hard. i screamed, hands clawing the carpet, back arched and head thrown back. he pounded into me hard and fast, harder and faster and harder, until a low explosion started in my belly and roared through my body and i felt him stiffen, heard him cry out, and then he drove his hips forward and emptied himself into me. the redheaded boy never got the consultation session he’d come for. but he got something much better, and it wasn’t the last time we played with him. nor was he the only one. my tutor was a man of dark and varied desires, and i his willing plaything. |
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© 2005 BLUE |
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| COLLAR & CLAMP. By BLUE |