Professor Wolf

This may not have gotten as taboo as it could have, but maybe that's going to happen in the next installment. For now, we just have the start of something, hopefully something you'll enjoy.
Start of the Semester

Professor Wolf looked over at the pile of syllabi for his classes. A new semester was about to start, and that meant he had to get ready for a new set of names to pretend to learn, a new set of faces to pretend to recognize. It meant he had to get ready for his first lecture, the one designed to get students to drop the class.

All of his classes had already made; they were registered and on the books. Even if the drops brought the class size below the minimum, it would just mean that many fewer papers to grade. That much less work to do.

He straightened his tie, and stretched, ready to walk to the building with the classroom. He liked to go to the room the day before class, just as a practice run so he knew what the room looked like, so he knew how to find it.

There was a knock on the door just as he was reaching for the handle.

Professor Wolf stepped back, flustered, as the door opened.

There were three girls on the other side. They looked familiar. They were students. His students.

“Hello,” he said. “Lisa, Quinn and,” he snapped his fingers, trying to pick up that last name. “Teresa, right?”

They nodded and smiled. Lisa closed the door behind them and slid the lock into place. “You remember our names,” Quinn said. “Strange. Didn't you say that you never remember your students' names?”

Wolf grinned at them and ran his hand through his brown hair. “Sometimes,” he said. “Sometimes I remember.”

He knew why he remembered them. He could see it even then. All of them had those knee high boots, even the one who was wearing tights as pants. Something Wolf generally didn't approve of. Tights are not pants. But on Quinn, he was willing to make an exception. She had the body to pull it off. And with the soft black leather up over her knees, he never had the heart to tell her not to dress like that.

Teresa smiled, a dark smirk that he had seen in class almost every day. Her makeup was perfect, her hair as straight as the As he was sure she had gotten since birth. “I know why you remember us,” she said.

Wolf shifted on his feet, went and sat on the edge of his desk and tried to get control of his breathing. There was no way they knew. No way they could be so sure.

“We remember the way you looked at us,” Teresa shifted her feet and crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts up and drawing his eyes. “You tried to cover it. But we know your type.”

“There are signs,” Lisa sat down and crossed her legs, bouncing her foot and drawing her eyes. She laughed. “Like that one.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” professor Wolf said.

“Sure you do.” Quinn moved close, whispering so he had to really pay attention. “You're always nicer to the girls. And nicer still to the girls in boots. It's subtle. But if you know what to look for, it's there. You flirt.”

“And more than flirt,” Lisa added, bouncing her foot again. “You kept backpedalling any time one of us got offended. Any time one of us complained about something.”

“But only one of us. When that other girl Holly complained, you would just dismiss her.”

Teresa chuckled at that. “But then, Holly was never picking up the signs.”

“Wha-what signs?” Wolf could feel the sweat starting to soak through his undershirt, wondered if the pit stains would show. Then wondered why that was so important.

“That you're submissive.” Teresa said it with a chuckle, as if it was simple, obvious. “You did what we wanted because you wanted to submit to us. You hoped that we would let you.”

Wolf jumped as Quinn pinched him. He looked at her in confusion.

“You're not dreaming,” Quinn said. “But that doesn't mean your dream can't come true.”

“I don't know what you're saying,” Wolf said.

Quinn slipped around the desk just as Lisa stood up suddenly and stepped closer, practically ramming into Wolf. “Bullshit,” she said. “You know exactly what we're saying.” She reached her hand down and grabbed his crotch in her hand, gave it a bit of a squeeze. “Yeah,” she said. “You know exactly what we're saying.”

He opened his mouth to protest, and she squeezed a bit more, gently. He moaned softly. Then he felt Quinn's hands on his shoulders. She reached around and grabbed his tie, then pulled it back, choking him a little bit.

“You can struggle if you want to,” Teresa said, casually looking down at her perfect fingernails. “But we both know that you're going to lose.”

Lisa let him go, then leaned in close. “You'll lose because you want to,” she said. She ran her tongue up his cheek. “Because you want this to happen.”

“I can't,” he said, shaking his head. “You're my students.”

“No we're not,” Teresa said, standing in front of him. “We used to be your students. We're all adults here, professor. Nothing to stop you.”

“Stop me from what?” He could have pulled out of Quinn's clutches if he wanted to. But he couldn't move.

Teresa gave him her dark smirk. “From getting down on your knees, kissing my boots, and begging us to do all the things you've ever imagined us doing.”

He shook his head. “I can't.”

“Yes you can.” Quinn let him go. “Just do it. You know you want to.”

He shook his head again.

“Do it,” Teresa said, all the tease gone from her voice. “Do it now, or I will punish you.”

He laughed at the absurdity of the situation. He opened his mouth to say something.

Lisa slapped him across the face. He looked at her in shock, and she slapped him again.

“We're not asking,” Teresa said. “Not really. We never were.”

Quinn grabbed his hair and pulled him over backwards so he was laying on his desk. He bumped his head, but not hard. Just enough to stun him. Just enough for Lisa to be able to rip his pants down around his ankles. Just enough for Lisa to straddle his face, her finely tuned ass cutting off his air supply.

He tried to push her off, but the other two girls each grabbed one wrist. He felt them tie his hands down. He fought them, but they had been right all along. He wasn't going to win. He didn't want to.

Lisa adjusted herself. Wolf got one quick breath, then lost it again. He felt the tie being pulled off his throat, felt his shirt being unbuttoned.

Then he heard snipping, and felt his t-shirt fall away.

And then came the pain. He screamed into Lisa's ass as fingers gripped his nipples and twisted them, hard. They kept twisting, squeezing.

When she finally got off and let him breathe, he was whimpering in pain. And he was naked.

“I warned you,” Teresa said. “You couldn't just do the simple thing. Couldn't just get down and kiss my boots. You knew you wanted to. We all knew that. But you couldn't just do the simple thing. Couldn't be a good little sub. Maybe you wanted to be punished?”

He looked up at her, but he knew it was useless to deny it. He was tied down to his desk, naked, with the biggest erection he'd ever had. He wanted to submit to them. Always had.

Lisa was behind him, closing the blinds. He heard something unzip. “I think we should have fun with him here,” she said. “Before we take him to the house.”

“What if someone comes in?” Quinn asked.

“The door is locked.”

“What if he screams?”

“He won't.” Lisa straddled his face again, this time with her bare ass. “And if he does, who would hear it?”

They laughed, dark and sadistic. Lisa pushed her weight onto his face, forcing his nose into her ass, pressing until his mouth opened and he began to lick her. Only when she was sure he was at work did she let him breathe again.

Or maybe it was so he would hear the next part.

“Untie him,” Teresa said. “If he's tied up in the picture, he'll be able to deny it.”

Want to read more? It's in Book Two