From bimberly@hotmail.com Sun Feb 16 11:54:31 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.bondage,nl.erotiek.bdsm,alt.bondage
Subject: New Story: Profesorette (BnD, nc, M/F)
From: bimberly@hotmail.com (BimberlySue)
Date: Sun, 16 Feb 1997 11:54:31 -0500


Please - This is not a story for minors or those who are bothered by
romantic bondage fantasies. If you are under 18, please do not read this.
Thank you.

BST

*** *** *** *** ++++++++++++++++ *** *** *** ***

I have written a number of stories, but this is the first that I have had
the nerve to post. As you will note, I have been influenced by some of the
very good writers who post here. I hope they will take any similarities as
a tribute and a compliment rather than something less. Of course any
faults are mine, not theirs. If you love/hate it. I guess I would like to
know. Thank you.

BST
*** *** *** *** ++++++++++++++++ *** *** *** ***

PROFESSORETTE

By
BimberlySue

*** *** *** *** ++++++++++++++++ *** *** *** ***
"Eh eee ow uh ih. Hey, ah yu pro-feh-uh. EEEEE!" There was something deep
into Ashley's mouth. Something gagging her. She explored it with her
tongue. Something thick. A cylinder. Hard rubber? It was shaped just like
a........ She had a dong stuffed in her mouth! She was lashed over a
chair. Her legs splayed wide, pelvis arched out. Her hair was down and
redder than blood. She felt long earings dangling from her lobes and there
was a fat dildoe strapped between her lips. And, biggest surprise of all,
Ashley wasn't scared!
*** *** *** *** ++++++++++++++++ *** *** *** ***


Ashley primped for the date. Hurle Stance was the primo bachelor on the
faculty, more importantly, he was the only potential obstacle to her
tenure appointment. This was year six at Powell College - The 'T' year.
She and Hurle started together in the Pshyco-Soc Department. He'd matched
her article for article, book for book and each of them had an equal
number of die-hard student supporters. They both served on key committees
and had a gaggle of staunch backers on the senior faculty. Problem was,
there was only one tenure position open and it'd go to either Hurle or
Ashley. The smart money leaned toward Hurle. In the ivy'ed halls, tenure
means employment for life, losers gets terminated.

But he asked her out! Six years, not a tumble, and tonight, a week before
the decision, Hurle Stance calls and asks Ashley over to his place for
dinner. Alone. Mischief? Did he know something? Was there an advantage
here for her? If Hurle Stance's a hunk, Ashley's a dark haired hunkette.
Halfway between five and six feet tall, slim waisted, fine breasted and
tightly bunned, Ashley has a body that works. Most of her student support
came from boys and girls lusting to slide into her panties. And with razor
sharp cheekbones, emerald eyes and full pouting lips - Ashley commanded
attention in class and out.

How to dress for the date? She went with snug. Snug corset to
overemphasize everything. Snug, but demure white blouse. A longish snug
beige skirt over hose and medium heels. A sensibly feminine look. Ready
for anything, but suggesting the minimum. Let him make the moves, but be
ready to exploit them. Hair up, middle makeup and, oh yes, a small
voice-actuated recorder in her purse to catch any improprieties. Ashley
thought about the old fashioned virtues of Professor Kincaid, the
Department Chairman. Maybe the right tape could turn the deal for her.

He was a gentleman at dinner. Small talked his way into the living room.
Offered her wine, and.... Sweet dreams Ashley.

"There are a couple a new ones t'night boys. That redhead's really ripe!"

Her eyes focused slowly on the young men, graduate students at Powell. Two
of Ashley's favorites.  They were upside down. No..... no. She was upside
down. No, she was. SHE WAS TIED UP! Somewhere down below, her ankles were
lashed wide to the legs of a sturdy chair, and she felt her insteps arched
up in dangerously high heels. Stupidly she tried to look down at them. Or
across to them. Because, somehow Ashley was bent backward over the chair
and her head was stretched down to the seat with her wrists lashed to the
front legs of the thing.

Ashley shook her head and tried to yell to the men. To scream for help.
But two strange things happened. Long red curls splayed in a cloud around
her head. Red? Her hair was darker than a winter night? Odd as that
seemed, the other thing was a lot more distracting. 

"Eh eee ow uh ih. Hey, ah yu pro-feh-uh. EEEEE!" Ashley's mouth was mashed
full. Something gagging her. She explored it with her tongue. Thick. A
cylinder. Hard rubber? A rod shaped just like a........ There was a dong
stuffed in her mouth! She was lashed backward over a chair, her legs
splayed wide, pelvis arched out, her hair was down and redder than blood.
She felt long earings dangling from her lobes and there was a fat dildoe
strapped between her lips. And, biggest surprise of all, Ashley wasn't
scared!

In fact, she was oddly calm and relaxed, like...... like she was.......
How? Why? In a rush things cleared. There was a drug running through her.
Making her calm, and something else. Something she couldn't quite.....

"This one's on Ekstacy," a woman's voice said. She was out of Ashley's
view but obviously nearby. "Timed release. She'll build all night. Three
hundred bucks and you've got her and the room."

Her students circled now, staring. One of the boys reached down and
tickled his fingers over her tits. Her tits? Her breasts were bare,
popping free from a fog of lace in an open red bra that held them up like
twin peaks poking through the morning mists. Someone'd rouged her nipples.
She struggled to look down. Apparently she was all in red. A crushing
satin corset, long red stockings, high red shoes and long red satin
gloves.

"Kind of a slutty look, huh?" The tallest guy, Jonathan, stood hands on
hips staring down at her face. She blushed to realize where her lips came
on him.

"That makeup job probably took her a couple of hours," the woman's voice
was bored, obviously anxious to make a sale. 

Makeup? What? What did she look like? Jonathan didn't seem to recognize
her at all. And the other man.... Dwight. Yes, Dwight. She looked over at
the shorter student. Both men were in their mid twenties and in prime
shape. Runners she thought, and giggled. Giggled? 

For the first time Ashley took stock. Here she stood, or something. A lot
of things were done to her, so these men who saw her almost every day had
no recognition. She looked up to see red nipples pointing at Jonathan and
she looked back to catch a glimpse of Dwight staring into her pussy.

"Fuh Gahs sakes. Ah yuh pr-fe-suh. Leh-neh looo. Leh-mee guh!"

"What's she saying?"

"Who gives a shit. Lookit the way she's struggling. What a piece. Let's do
it Dwight. Can we take pictures?"

"The video's always on, the tape's with the deal. So?" The woman wanted it
done. Ashley, shook her head, pulled at the chair, screamed into her
gagging. And heated up.

They let her go in the morning after the boys left. Perhaps it was the
drug, but she still smiled when she awoke to the phone, Hurle calling to
invite her over.

There were a couple of tapes. She watched one at his house. Good lighting.
Under the sparkling makeup and red curls, under the satin corset and shiny
hose, under it all, you knew it was Ashley. If you were told. Who'd tell?
Jonathan and Dwight would swear she was a participant and the tape
confirmed it. The part about the drug was gone, but not the part when they
took off her rubber gag and replaced it with living things. She could have
asked for help then. In a way she did. But not the sort of help a victim
might have.

Tim got tenure. Ashley got.... Right. In fact she gets him a lot.
Sometimes at their home. Sometimes at the bondage brothel. She teaches on
a part time basis now, an adjunct member of the faculty. An interesting
thing about having a brilliant lover, he never gets dull. Great
imagination. And sometimes, when she's flopping around alone during the
day in some kind of hampered getup, she misses some of the students,
particularly Dwight and Jonathan.

