This choice: Her history professor, Dr. Elizabeth Bathroy • Go Back...Chapter #4Her history professor, Dr. Elizabeth Bathroy by: Jaime Drake   Amy had been going to college for a few months now, and already she had caused a splash with her wild antics. She was a strip game addict, plain and simple, and in the uninhibited environment of a college town this had been exploited repeatedly and publically. It was only mid-October and already she was the most famous girl on campus. She didn't mind too terribly, since it was basically an extension of her high school antics, but she had been hoping to make a different reputation for herself. Her best friend and roommate Suzie, not to mention her old high school rival Samantha, had seen that it was otherwise, though. After the first dorm party her reputation had spread, and now she was once again at the mercy of any that would prey on her.
But that was neither here nor there. She was headed into class, which everyone had silently agreed was off limits since they had to focus on the material or flunking out. As a result she had thus far avoided any antics in classes and her reputation with her professors had been spared as a result, well as far as she knew anyways. Her last class of the week was Early Modern Slavic History with Dr. Bathroy. She was by far the sternest professor in the History Department, always wearing her jet black hair in a severe bun, reputedly a habit she picked up serving in the Marine Corps. Today she was wearing a dark black suit that matched her hair over a crisp white shirt. Her three-inch black stiletto heels clacked as she entered the lecture hall. "Our topic today will be the Thirteen Years' War between Habsburg Austria and the Ottoman Empire from 1593-1609," she boomed, instantly silencing any chatter in the hall, "but first, I have your papers back."
Amy was nervous about hers. The night before it was due she had wound up tied naked to Samantha's bedpost while she and her friends had a movie marathon, and she was reasonably worried that the final product had not been her best effort. She gulped as Dr. Bathroy handed her paper to her, but instead of the expected scouring of blood-red ink culminating in an "F" it simply read, "See me after class." Amy was extra worried now and spent the lecture with her stomach twisting into knots.
After class she approached the professor, her eyes wide and her hands wringing unconsciously. "Ah yes, Ms. Summers," she said without looking at Amy, "we'll discuss this in my office." Dr. Bathroy turned and left then, her attention on some notes and paying the nervous coed no mind. Amy followed behind her, struggling to keep pace with the confident older woman as she swept through the hall. At her office she placed the papers in a filing cabinet, calling to Amy as she walked in, "Shut the door, Ms. Summers."
Amy hastened to comply, then took a seat in a chair that sat facing Dr. Bathroy's desk. Her professor spent a long minute before organizing papers before she acknowledged Amy's presence. "Your paper was well below my standards, and even that of your previous work," she finally said as she typed on her computer, "and that made me curious. I did some digging and I found a video of just what you were doing the night before the assignment was due." With that she presented her computer monitor to Amy, which had a video playing of the girl bound naked to her rival's bedpost and cumming from a vibrator tied to her pussy. "From there," Dr. Bathroy continued without giving any indication that she noticed the blood wasa draining from Amy's face, "I dug more and found out that you have certain habits..."
Amy was mortified. Her professor had discovered her addiction, to say nothing of the fact that she had seen her O-face. The older woman stood now, towering over Amy. "As it stands now, your paper will receive a failing grade, but I'm not unsympathetic and I'm willing to give you a chance to rewrite it." Amy felt like she knew where this was going, but she didn't see any way out of this. She had to pass this class, and she needed at least a B- on her paper to do so, judging by how the semester was going so far. "You want to play a strip game?" Amy asked, shaking from nervousness and, if she was being honest, excitement.
Dr. Bathroy smirked. "Not just that," she said, a malicious glee touching her features, "if I win, then you will spend the night as my fucktoy. If you win, then I'll grant you any one forfeit up to the same." Amy nodded, her head spinning from a mix of terror and arousal. Dr. Bathroy sat on the desk facing Amy, her arms crossed across her breasts, and said, "Since you are the challenged you may choose the game."
What will Amy choose?   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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