Date: Sun, 15 Feb 2004 10:14:57 -0800 (PST)
From: C Duvay <clitcatduvay@yahoo.com>
Subject: A Professor's Seminars Continue: Part 1

A Professor's Seminars Continue: Part I

By

Caterina Duvay

(clitcatduvay@yahoo.com)


Disclaimer: Not for minors. Feedback welcome.

(This is a continuation of the series "A Professor's Unpredictable
Seminar. Thanks to the many who have encouraged me to continue! -- and
note new email address)


Part I

My name is Kristina and I am a professor of women's studies at a large
university. After the series of encounters inaugurated by an
`unpredictable' seminar, I got myself into trouble, real trouble. I
thought I'd found an ideal pair of lipstick dommes in Nikki and her
aunt, a younger and older woman who excited me in hitherto unimaginable
ways, but I grew restless again for new experiences.

One weekend while they were away at a merchandising conference (buying
more toys, more tools, more lingerie, and presumably betraying me with
some new-found sub no doubt) I decided to travel a few hours outside town
to a raunchy bar that had quite a reputation for `welcoming' gurls like
myself who found freedom in subservience.

Although I was a little apprehensive, the dramatic sessions with my
students, the students who woke my smoldering submissive desires,
emboldened me. I bristled with erotic energy as I made my 1 AM entrance
into "DD's Delights." The joint was packed and I was dressed -- or
more accurately, undressed -- to kill. I was wearing the flimsiest white
gauzy cotton dress; it was cut low and ended high, just below my pussy.
Underneath I wore a sheer nipple-less bra, a sheer thong and a little
more. Two small silver clamps pincered my large nipples and were
connected by a thin silver chain which was itself connected to another
chain that linked two silver clamps on my labia. My juices were flowing
and I was flooded with anticipatory excitement.

I'm not classically pretty, but at 5'7", 123 lbs, my firm body could
be quite alluring, my blonde hair and pouty lips inviting. I wore a pair
of expensive and elegant red heels of moderate height: they matched my
gleaming red lipstick. I took a risk with my earrings, which were really
the same kind of small silver pincers that were clamping my nipples and
cunt lips. A red leather choker completed by ensemble. I was a walking
invitation for a gal with any gumption.

The mixologist who served me as I sidled up to the crowded bar was very
pretty and smiled as she placed a glass of vodka in front of me. As I
sipped it and it began to seep into my brain I felt a lovely soft hand
graze along my spine and a lightly and freshly scented breath waft
against my ear.

"Keep your eyes straight ahead, like a good little girl, and order three
more of the same."

The bartender smiled as she served me my new order and I extracted a few
$20 bills from my red leather purse.

The voice continued in a whisper as the hand roamed a bit more boldly
over my back, up and down, caressing, assessing....

"Knock it down, girlie," said the voice as a hand drew one of the
drinks away. I downed the drink as ordered and was surprised to see the
bartender take the third.

The hand along my back was electric: my back began to arch in response to
its touch as it traveled along my shoulders, my buttocks, as it reached
in front along my stomach and then under my breasts which ached with
desire. Lips traveled along my neck and I nearly jumped off the
barstool. Girls were beginning to watch from around the bar, but I was
focused on the bartender's inviting eyes and the mysterious strong woman
behind me.

The bartender was very very sexy in a rough sort of way -- short spiky
dark hair, hazel eyes, firmly moulded breasts that looked to be pierced
under their halter top, cut-off jeans so tight they seemed painted on and
moist....Her lean legs and thighs were beautifully tanned. I loved her
cowboy boots. She served me another and I was again commanded to down it
quickly. I was fast growing tipsy and more overtly responsive to the
mysterious caresses and whisperings and in something of a blur I found
myself being escorted by the sexy bartender to a private room.

My dress was whisked off in a flash and I stood naked in my heels, clamps
and choker before being urged to my knees. I found myself dreamily
unzipping the bartender's jeans and sliding them off. She now stood
directly in front of me, legs apart, and I hungrily engulfed her sweet
sweet shaven pussy without a thought. She was delicious. The mystery
woman knelt behind me, guiding and groping.

"Ripe for the plucking, isn't she?" said the voice behind.

"Mmmm....yess...." said the bartender. She came in several small
shudders.

I was happy and smiled up at her. The room was dark and warm and another
girl entered, tough looking but also wickedly sexy and she positioned
herself before me and I licked her clean. Then another, a blonde this
time, very femme. All the while the woman behind me stroked and pressed
me. Yet another drink was served up and I was growing hotter, more
lustful, yet also more confused and increasingly out of control, even
though I was doing what I loved in tasting and pleasing these strange
women and their ravishing cunts.

"She's good, isn't she?" said the Mystery Woman.

"So far she is," replied the blonde, "but she hasn't been tested yet,
you know."

"I know, girls, I knew," said the voice.

A strong hand gripped my hair and pulled me to my feet. She turned me
around and I found myself gazing at what might have been the most
beautiful face I'd ever seen, Asian, framed by long lustrous jet black
hair, with exquisite oriental features. She seemed to be in her 30s, and
was clad in tight-fitting leather. Her body seemed extraordinarily lithe
and firm. She kissed me on the lips deeply and pressed herself against
my body, rubbing against my clamped nipples and crotch and nearly making
me swoon.

When the kiss finished she proclaimed: "She's mine girls, mine and
Vicki's. We're gonna take her home with us."

Holding me by my hair she paraded me, naked, through the bar, out the
door and into the parking lot. A crowd of girls followed and watched as
I was shoved into the rear seat of her car, mildly drunk, very excited,
very wet, though a little worried as Vicki moved beside me.

In a matter of minutes it seemed we had entered the Woman's apartment,
elegant and large, situated in a mid-rise building. Vicki flicked on the
lights, which were low and soft and I was led to the middle of the living
room and made to kneel on a plush dark carpet. My head was swimming as
the clamps were removed from my nipples and breasts and my hands were
bound with their chains behind me.

"Connie, turn me on, baby!" said Vicki. Now at least I had a name for
this Asian beauty.

She moved in front of me while Vicki, also naked, relaxed on the sofa,
spreading her legs, playfully tugging on her nipple rings. Connie smiled
at me: I was ready to sink my tongue into her, anywhere she wanted. Then
she grasped my hair and pulled my head back and cradled my chin in her
left hand for a moment.

"You're quite sexy, girlie," she told me. "I like sexy girlie girls,
you know?" I was pleased. Then Connie slowly removed her leather
gloves. She asked me to lick each glove finger, slowly, and I did, my
lust rising, until all were quite wet and glistening.

"Arch your back, honey," she commanded, "and keep your chin up."

She brought the gloves sharply across my face.

"Oooohhh," I muttered. She lashed me from the other side and I
involuntarily turned my head. She wasn't pleased. Grabbing my hair
roughly she centered my head and ordered me to remain motionless and
silent. I made the mistake of nodding and she brought the gloves down
right on my mouth: they stung wickedly. She had me moisten them again
and again she whipped my lips, fiercely, and again, and again I tried to
avoid her blow and again she responded with anger and determination.
Taking the clamps from my ears -- my provocative earrings -- she bade me
open my mouth. Folding the glove she used it to pull my tongue forward
as she clamped each side of it. I couldn't believe how much the clamps
hurt, and I began to drool and wince, and she stepped back and lashed my
lips with even greater force. My lips were swelling and began to burn.
She lashed me three more times and I sank down, sobbing.

Connie lifted my up by my hair and said disapprovingly, "Would you like
me to stop, girlie?"

I nodded frantically.

"I'm sorry to hear that, because this is turning Vicki on and I love to
turn her on."

She lashed my lips yet again, and again; the impact of her gloves made a
sharp crackling sound on my raw mouth. My tongue burned from the clamps
and blows and my lips stung intolerably and I was sobbing and heaving
with pain and humiliation. Then Connie clutched my hair and pulled me
panting across the floor on my knees to Vicki who spread her lovely legs
for me. I was so grateful for the cessation of punishment and when
commanded to service Vicki's musky wet pussy willingly complied. But the
slightest pressure on my sensitive beaten lips sent me weeping and
recoiling.

"Use your tongue, girlie," said Connie.

I opened my mouth -- it could barely part -- and pushed my tongue with
its clamps through the narrow aperture made by my hugely swollen lips and
grazed the very tip across Vicki's gleaming hard clit.

"Flick it," urged Connie. I tried but couldn't. My lips were closing
on my tongue with swelling, and my tongue itself could hardly move from
the effect of the clamps.

But I had no choice: Vicki grasped my head and ground her pussy against
my mouth and tongue and held my face forcibly to her cunt until she
exploded.

Connie unclamped my tongue and brought me to a mirror. I could hardly
recognize my face: my lips were simian, thrice their normal size and a
raw pink like the inside of my cunt. Connie also unbound my hands, had
me wash up and gave me a balm for my brutalized lips.

I had stopped weeping by now but felt weary and dizzy. I wanted to go
home.

"Our little girlie girl isn't so pretty right now, is she?" oozed
Connie.

"Fuck pretty," said Vicki. "Nobody's prettier than you anyway."
Connie smiled.

"She's a crybaby, that's for sure," said Connie. I was hurt -- how
did they expect me to react to such brutality?

"Not only is she a crybaby," piped in Vicki, "but she's a fucking
fraud." She came over to me and spat in my face.

"Who do you think you fucking are, walking into our bar, primped like a
slave and not being able to take the heat?"

"She wanted to be treated with kid gloves" chimed in Connie. Vicki
laughed. I didn't think it was very funny. Then Vicki turned to
Connie. "Turn me on again, baby, the night's still young."

"With pleasure," Connie replied. She dropped to her knees and planted a
long wet kiss on Vicki's cunt. Then she rose and stripped, leaving on
only her thigh-high leather boots. Her waist was obscenely narrow, her
shoulders broad, and her arms thin and smoothly muscled. Her long black
hair was richly draped over her slim torso, reaching nearly to her
beautiful rounded ass. Her pussy -- and I could already smell its
magnificently sweet aroma -- had just a small tuft of jet black hair
above her pink slit. Her perfect body was so tight, so limber, so firm,
so delectable ... and so forbidding. Connie spoke in hushed tones: "I'm
not through with you yet."

She led me into the adjacent room, a bedroom. Two walls were entirely
mirrored, floor to ceiling -- the one against which the four-poster was
pressed, and another, at a right angle, situated some ten feet away.
Connie drew me to the foot of the bed. I could see myself straight ahead
in the mirror above the headboard, and also to the right in the
mirror-wall. I watched dreamily as my hands were cuffed to each upper
post, and me ankles to each lower bedpost.

Vicki meanwhile stretched herself out on the bed in front of me. She
could see me head on and also in the mirror to her left. Connie stepped
away for a minute and returned wearing a strap-on -- a large ribbed
phallus that stood nearly upright. She also carried a long thin birch
rod. My knees buckled.

"I'm going to turn you into a tiger, baby," cooed Connie, "with
stripes to match your pretty red shoes."

I gulped and closed my eyes as the first swoosh of the rod came down. I
thought she would begin gently, but no -- I groaned and glanced at my
right flank. A long thin red welt began to appear. The second blow
seared, landing across my tender back. I exhaled and fought back tears.
The third burst upon my buttocks.

"I like watching our girlie's face, Connie -- I think she likes it, a
lot," said Vicki as she lay languorously before me. I could smell her
pussy as it became more aroused. I myself was a raw mixture of
confusion, pain and desire. What was happening was far and away more
than I had ever bargained for. I was afraid but also afraid to show my
fear.

Incredibly enough my cunt was sopping wet, and although tears came
inescapably to my ears with each merciless blow, I blinked them away. I
gazed in the mirror to my right and saw my newly striped body -- ass,
sides, arms and legs -- and then I heard Connie's unctuous voice in my
ear.

"Each lash is your dearest friend, girlie, each blow brings freedom.
Give in to it."

Something snapped and I relaxed and I entered another zone, a zone beyond
mundane physical pain and eroticism. Somehow I began to accept each lash
as a source of erotic energy: my body rippled with each blow . The
burning and shimmering of my flesh traveled throughout me, inside and
out, culminating in the piercing twinge of lust in my wetter and wetter
cunt.

Vicki caught the change and began to respond by writhing and fingering
herself and licking her fingers.

"I want to see the slut cum," she said hoarsely.

I could see Connie smiling in the mirror to my right: she looked so
wicked, so beautiful, so depraved, so cruelly wanton, so desirable with
her black phallus and black boots and black hair. She raised her arm and
brought the rod down harder and I shuddered and thanked her.

"Tiger, tiger burning bright..." she chuckled.

What's your name, girlie?" she asked.

"K-Kristina," I muttered breathlessly.

"And what do you do when you're not trying to be a slut?" she
continued.

Thwack! I winced but loved it. I thought dreamily I was falling in love
with her too....

"I -- I'm a teacher," I replied softly, between breaths.

"No, you're a student, girlie, a mere student.... A student who needs to
learn a few lessons."


I nodded deliriously. She brought me a shot of whisky, which I gulped
down hastily.

"My favorite number is eleven," she said mysteriously. "By the
eleventh stroke of my tool I want you to come. I will strike you harder
and harder, I want you to lust for the rod, my rod, I want your thighs
and flanks and ass to crave each stroke, and then I want you to thank
me."

I sighed, a mass of charged lustful frenzied perverted flesh. I was
depraved, but wonderfully so, and so I accepted my depravity.

As the sharp blows fell across me I moaned, and Vicki quite unexpectedly
moved towards me on her knees on the bed and with utmost gentle delicacy
placed the tip of her tongue on my nipples. She made very delicate
circles on my breasts with her fingers, and the contrast between
Connie's savagery and Vicki's gentleness made me faint. Connie took
her time between strokes, while Vicki grew more ardent, now licking and
sucking on my breasts, pulling my nipples with her teeth, squeezing them
between her fingers.

My whole body was aflame as she let her right hand graze to my creamy
pussy and pressed it against my clit and cunt lips as the eleventh blow
seared itself across my ass and she held her hand there as I came in
thunderous waves, tears of grateful pleasure-pain streaming into my eyes.

"I love you both so much!" I cried, "I love you! Thank you! Thank
you!"

I gradually settled down as Connie and Vicki kissed my face and neck and
caressed my hair.

"You'll have your stripes, your marks of honor, for several days,
Kristina," said Connie, "and we'll want you to be proud of them."

I smiled and nodded and then watched keenly as Connie moved in front of
me onto the bed. Vicki lay with her legs wide open. I couldn't believe
her capacity: she had already come twice, and yet she was ready for more!

"Fuck me, baby, take your bitch!" called Vicki. Connie mounted her,
her strong lithe form sliding easily on top, the dark phallus entering
smoothly.

"Oh yes!" cried Vicki, "Fuck me hard, hard and deep, baby, fuck your
bitch, fuck me!"

She thrust herself into Connie as Connie thrust into her, slowly, deeply
and very hard. She began to pick up speed and Vicki screamed as Connie
brought her mouth down on hers while thrusting, and again Vicki came.

Connie disengaged herself and removed the strap-on. She quickly turned
around, squatting on Vicki's mouth with her drooling pussy, looking me
right in the eye as she licked and sucked on the cock. Vicki was licking
her like a madwoman and Connie slid her pussy up and down her face and
purred and tugged on Vicki's nipple rings. Holding the cock in her
mouth, she grabbed Connie's ankles and pulled her legs backwards and
used them to balance herself as she rode Vicki's mouth and pressed
herself down on her harder and harder.

I was amazed at the sight of Vicki's open cunt and ass. Connie leaned
forward. They were now in a 69 as Connie straddled Vicki's head with
her legs. But Vicki's legs were pulled back and outwards, and as Connie
stretched herself to lick her lover-bitch she brought the cock and moved
it into Vicki's beckoning ass, filling it to the hilt. Vicki groaned as
Connie tongued her slit while fucking her ass. I was sure Vicki
couldn't come yet again -- but I was wrong! And as she came her licking
grew more frenzied and the cool savage Connie succumbed, screaming and
jumping and flailing and crying out.

"Yes, you fucking bitch, make me cum! You beautiful fucking bitch, take
my cunt, yes!"

I watched her explode like a magnificent animal, and then finally
subside.

My cuffs were removed and I was brought to the bathroom where I relieved
myself. My entire body burned, and I felt so amazingly alive. My
stripes, dimly reflected, seemed so... so beautiful. I was indeed a
tigress....a total animal myself, sexual and subservient to my newest
instructors.

Vicki and Connie led me out, reassured me that in 5 days or so my skin
would be back to its usual lovely self, and laid me face down on the
bed. They cuffed my hands and ankles to the posts of the head and foot,
applied ointment to my welts, and then curled up with each other on the
floor. I heard their kisses and caresses as I drifted off to sleep and
wondered what would next be in store for me. How far would I let myself
go? And would I even have any choice in the matter anymore?


(Comments may be emailed -- please note change in email address from
previous stories: clitcatduvay@yahoo.com)