Date: Wed, 25 Aug 2004 21:06:41 +0000
From: kitty h <kittyha56@hotmail.com>
Subject: training-the prof-5

TRAINING THE PROF

This continues the account of how an English academic was slowly but
surely trapped and controlled of by one of his female students.  Thanks
to readers for your kind comments.  Send any comments to me at
	kittyh55@hotmail.com with `Harte' in the message head.


Part 5

That evening Julian retired early, his mind in a whirl.  He stripped off,
examining his pubes in the mirror.  He would have to shave again;
somehow he knew that if he didn't she would punish him.  He turned
round to inspect his bottom.  The marks from his morning caning were
clearly visible, two still raised, livid mementoes across his smooth bum.

Under his pillow were the pink panties he had been given so publicly
and humiliatingly the night before at the party.  He took them out and
slipped them on before climbing in under the duvet.  Why was he
obeying her, even though she was not present?  Yet the simple fact was
that he had followed her instructions, again; he had done the same the
night before.  He fell asleep thinking of the shape of her tits under her
Snoopy pyjamas, imagining the damp patch between her thighs as she
watched robin cane him, wondering whether she had frigged herself to
orgasm when he left.

Sunday lunchtime and he was in the pub for a beer when Jon Roberts,
one of his special subject group, came up to him at the bar.
	`Hi.  How's it going?'
	`Fine thanks.'
	`And how are your pretty panties?' the lad smirked.
	`Fine.  I wear them all the time now' responded Julian, making a
joke of it.
	The lad grinned back at him.  `Not all the time though, big boy, as
I can see quite clearly.'

It was as though he had been hit in the face, in public.  Here was this
rampant young man casually alluding to his tutor's unrestrained cock.
Julian once more decided to make a joke of it, saying how much
healthier it was to let things hang free.  `It stops one over-heating' he
concluded with what he hoped was a manly flourish.
	`I bet it does' said Roberts, before moving away with the drinks
for himself and his girlfriend.  `See you around, big boy' he called over
his shoulder.

Julian fled back to the public bar.

He got back to his place about two, and quickly knocked up a cold
collation of ham, pickles, tomatoes and bread.  He ate in front of the TV,
watching a game of rugby, and then fell asleep.  He was wakened by a
firm knocking on his front door.  Still half asleep, he went to see who it
was.

Through the spy-hole he could see Miss.  His heart thumped.  She was
calling on him!  What did she want?  In haste he opened the door to her.

She entered as though she owned the place.
	`Are you on your own?'
	`Yes Miss.'
	`Then why is your zip done up?'  He apologised and pulled it
down, and as he did so his cock rose in silent homage.  `Where is your
toilet?'  He told her.  `Wait there whilst I use it.'  And with that she was
gone to the downstairs lavatory.

He felt such a fool standing in his own hallway whilst one of his pupils
used his loo without so much as a by-your-leave.  But then he recalled
that she was not just a pupil, she was his mistress, and he nearly came.

She returned to complain vociferously about the state of his toilet pan.
`It is disgusting!' she concluded.  `Get it cleaned, this instant.  If it is
not
sparkling clean the next time I call, you will find yourself cleaning it
with
your tongue.  I hope I make myself clear.'
	`Yes Miss.'
She left without explanation for her brief visit.  She had used his place
as a personal convenience; just a place for a piss.  Poor Julian felt
demeaned and used, as she had intended.

Julian spent the next hour cleaning the toilet pan and the bath.  At least,
he thought, she will have nothing to complain about on her next visit.
Foolish man!


Julian entered the Tuesday Special Subject seminar with trepidation, but
everyone was very well behaved.  No one referred to the party on
Saturday, and he got through the two-hour session without anyone
saying anything, although he did notice Jon Roberts gave him a smirk
more than once.  He returned to his office, relieved no one had taken
advantage.

Five minutes later there was a tap on his door and Maria walked in.  He
rose from his desk to greet her.  She shut the door, placing her back
against it and stared at him.
	`Well, big boy.  What are you supposed to do when alone in my
presence.'
	He knew in a flash what she meant.  She wanted him to unzip,
here, in his office, at work.  `It is too dangerous, Miss' he pleaded.
	`Nonsense!  Get on with it.  Now!'
He obeyed.

She left the door and came across to him.  Then she ran her hand over
his semi-erection through his trousers whilst fixing him with her intense
grey-blue eyes.
	`I need a key to your house, so I can inspect you whenever I wish.
Is that clear?'  He nodded.  `Good.  Get one cut.  I shall collect it
tomorrow.  Secondly, I am taking you shopping tomorrow.  Report to
the flat at 2 precisely.  I am sure you know now that when I say
precisely I mean precisely.'  She smiled a cold smile.  Again he nodded
his acquiescence.  `Bring your car and some cash as we are going into
town to do some personal shopping for you.  I have decided to develop
your wardrobe more appropriate for a cock-sucking slut.'  She
squeezed his cock hard then turned and left.  Julian slumped back in his
chair, his heart thumping.


He was there the following day as ordered.  At precisely 2 he knocked
on the flat door.  It was opened by a grinning Heather.
	`Hi big boy.  Maria's just getting ready.  You had better wait here'
and she indicated one of the straight-backed kitchen chairs.
	`I hear you are off shopping.'
	`Yes.'
	`Do you know what for?' she asked.
	`No.'
	`Well, I am sure it will be a nice surprise,' and she grinned
knowingly.

Strapped in the car, he was about to drive off when Miss reached
across and undid his zip.  `This is undone whenever we are in the car.
Is that clear cock-sucker?'
	`Yes Miss.'
Thus exposed he drove into the city centre.

In the car-park Julian zipped himself up before following his mistress
into the nearby shopping centre.  He felt conspicuous, not that he
needed to.  After all many men are taken shopping by their ladies, but
perhaps not so many with such an age difference.

Maria did not waste anytime but led big boy into the lingerie section of a
low-cost chain store.  Almost at once Julian guessed her purpose.  He
waited by her side as she rummaged through a rack of cheap panties.
	`Just right for a slut don't you think?' she commented, pulling out
a pair of cream briefs, size 16.
	`Yes Miss' whispered an embarrassed Julian.
She handed them for him to hold and continued her search.  Two more
pairs of briefs followed, one white and one black.  Submissively Julian
added them to his pile.  Then she moved on to the bras and selected a
lacy black under-wired size 38b for his wardrobe.  She paused over
some French knickers, before deciding they were too sophisticated for
a wimp like big boy.  That was enough for here she decided.
	`Take these to the check-out, and don't forget to be polite to the
young lady on the till.'

Poor Julian queued behind two middle-aged ladies who seemed to take
an age to get served.  Never had he felt so vulnerable in public.  At last
it
was his turn.  The girl on the till inspected his purchases with amused
contempt.  Another dirty old man she thought to herself.  And so she
took her time, inspecting each garment to make sure they were the same
size as the others.
	`This is a size 14 Sir.  Did you realise?
	`No' gulped Julian, going crimson in the process.
	`Don't worry Sir, I will get a colleague to change it for you.'  And
in a loud voice she called her friend over and asked to change the
panties to the right size for the gentleman.  The matron waiting behind
Julian clucked her annoyance at being delayed.  At last the correct size
was produced, scanned in and packed in with the others.  Julian paid in
cash - at least that was quick.

He returned to his mistress, blushing most prettily.
	`What took you so long, wimp?'
	`I am sorry, Miss, one of the pairs was the wrong size.'
Maria ignored his explanation and paced off without a word more, Julian
following meekly behind her.

Her next stop was in the fragrance department.  She tried out the
cheapest most slutty fragrances she could find.
	`What do you think of this one big boy?' she asked, holding her
wrist for him to smell.
	`Nice' he ventured.
	`No it isn't.  It is the sort vulgar scent young trollops wear, so just
right for you!' and she handed him a boxed bottle of Roxene eau de
toilette to be quickly followed by a tube of face-cream.  Again he was
left to make the purchase.  This time thankfully there was no queue.

They left that store and wandered through the mall, Julian trailing her, his
tell-tale parcels in hand.  Next Maria took him into a store specialising in
teen-girls fashions but fortunately for Julian there was nothing in his
size.

Next she took him into a cheap jewellers.  Her eyes scanned the chains
and pendants until she saw what she sought, a plain metal chain with a
large metal M hanging from it.
	`Just right for you isn't it, wimp?'
	`Yes Miss.'
	`Well, go and buy it.'
He scurried off to obey.

They visited various other shops, to no avail.  Whatever Miss was
looking for was not in the mall.  They emerged into the High Street.
Perhaps she had finished the shopping thought Julian.  To no avail.  She
trailed him through various charity shops.  In one he had to buy two
Mills & Boon novels.  She enjoyed that especially when she opined for
all to hear that he hadn't got that one in his collection.  A university
lecturer reading trashy romantic fiction!  The shame of it.

I can't find what I want here, wimp, so we can go now.'
	`Yes Miss' he replied with a sigh of relief.  Little did he realise
worse was still to come.

They drove out of the town centre and through a poor part of the town
on their way back to the uni when suddenly she ordered him to stop.
He found a space and parked.

She led him to a sad-looking second-hand clothes store.  As they
entered, a bell rang and a slatternly middle-aged lady emerged from a
curtained recess at the back of the shop.
	`Can I help you' she asked Maria.
	`Not sure.  You don't happen to have any outsize school-girl
uniforms do you?'
	The woman looked from the young woman to her older
companion and smiled.  `You might find some in the far rack on the
right.'
	`Thank you' responded with Maria with a smile.  She recognised
an ally in the shop-owner.  `Come on big boy, follow me' she
announced in a clear voice which the shop-lady could not fail to hear.
Julian blushed and followed his Mistress into the dark interior.

Maria ignored her blushing wimp as she searched through the racks of
cheap blouses and skirts.  Then she found a very short dark-blue skirt in
heavy school cloth in Julian's size.  A long-sleeved blouse soon
followed it.  She checked the price tags; four pounds and two pounds
respectively.
	`These should fit' she announced, and handing them to him she
led him to the till.  The woman examined the purchases.
	`I think these will be too big for you, dear' she said to Maria.
	`They are not for me, they are for him.'
Julian could have died on the spot.  Never had he been so humiliated!
The woman smirked.  `I thought so.  Would you like him to try them on
to make sure they fit.'
	`Can we?' asked Maria with a conspiratorial smile of recognition.
	`Of course darling.  There is a small cubicle on the far left.'
	`Unfortunately he doesn't have any undies on at the moment.
You don't happen to have any for him do you?'
	`Yes, dear.  There are a couple of boxes over there.  I am sure
you can find something suitable for him.'

The shop-lady watched as the mistress and her wimp moved back into
the shop's interior.  Maria felt her cunt-juices begin to flow.  This was
even better than she had hoped.  She took her time before selecting a
lace-trimmed pair of girl's knickers embroidered with flowers and
moments later Julian was in the changing cubicle with instructions to
strip naked and change into his school-girl uniform.

The poor man was beside himself with embarrassment, but there was
nothing he could do but obey.  The blouse was hard to button up; the
holes were on the wrong side.  But a command from Miss and he
hurried to complete his transformation, before pulling back the curtain
so she could inspect him.
	`Do they fit, dear' the shop-lady called out.
	`I am not sure.  Perhaps you would give me your expert opinion?'
	`Delighted!'  And with that the lady hurried over.  She hummed
and hawed, making Julian turn round so she could inspect him from the
rear.  She even touched his bottom, ostensibly to smooth down the skirt.
`I think they will do' she said.'
	`Thank you' replied Maria sweetly.  At that point the shop-bell
rang and Julian fled back into the safe interior of the changing cubicle.

Back once more in male attire, he emerged to see two teen girls looking
through the racks of tops.  They gave him only a cursory glance, much
to his relief.  At the till he paid and waited whilst his purchases where
shoved into a Tesco's bag.
	`Bring him round again some time darling.  I am sure I can help in
his dressing.'
	`Thank you, I will.'

Julian drove back to Maria's flat in silence, his heart thumping.  When
they got there, he half-expected her to take him in, but she had other
ideas.  Let the wimp wait, she thought to herself.  He was instructed to
place his purchases in the top drawer of his dressing-room table.  And
with that he was dismissed.

Maria returned to her room and unchained the naked Simon, before
lying open legged on her bed to frig herself to orgasm.  It had been a
most pleasing shopping expedition.

In the house Julian nearly fainted from nervous exhaustion and yet his
dribbling cock told a different story.  Despite his fear and
embarrassment he felt elated.  He went to his computer to sign in as
`slutjulia'.  There Miss had spelt out his dress code for the immediate
future - panties at home; commando outside.  `You may be wondering
why, slut?  Well, my spies tell me the rugby club is showing more than a
passing interest in your swinging appendage; and we wouldn't want to
disappoint them would we!'

At those words, Julian came, unaided by any hand.  Another pair of
stained trousers!


I hope you are enjoying this semi-autobiographical tale.  Comments and
suggestions most welcome.  Please send to me at:
	kittyh55@hotmail.com with `Harte' in the message head.