Lesson Planner

Sharon Hill found herself standing just outside the front doors of Butcherman's Hall again. Unlike her first visit, she was sure why she was here tonight. At nine p.m. the place looked deserted. Cautiously, she unfolded the note that showed the room number. She'd memorized it, of course, but there was no reason to be assuming anything now. She definitely didn't want to end up in the wrong room. For one reason, who knew WHAT she'd encounter elsewhere - a nastier professor? Or one of those dominatrix women she'd heard of? No, she wouldn't disappoint Reg.

Pulling the note from the back pocket of her tight black jeans, she unfolded the yellow, lined paper and re-read what her Professor had written.

"Ms. Hill (she loved it when he called her Sharon , but that seemed to be only when they were completely alone), come to room 1615 and come early this time. You are expected at 9:30 pm. Attire for the evening's entertainment (ha! That was a joke. SHE was the entertainment.) shall consist of jeans, a heavy oversized sweatshirt, white socks and sneakers."

Her nipples had hardened into stiff little eraser tips. No underwear. Already the crotch of her jeans was damp. Swallowing hard, she began the long trek to that room. Along the way, she got to peer into some of the other rooms this time. She recalled the screams and other sounds she'd heard when she was here previously. Looking to her right, she actually paused in her determined gait and gasped.

Unable to resist her curiosity, she stepped into the brightly-lit room and stood stock-still. The ceiling, floor and every wall were covered in thick red shag carpeting. There was a heart-shaped bed in the far corner. As she approached it, she saw the restraints that were tied to various places on that bed. Somewhere far off, a door closed, startling her out of her reverie.

"I'd better get going," Sharon thought and spun about on her heels. She realized with horror that it was the door to THIS room that had closed. In a panic, she tried the knob and found it wouldn't budge! She dug into her pocket for the note again and flipped the paper over. Reg had given her his cell number, just in case. She pulled out her flip phone and punched in his ten digits quickly.

"Where are you, slut?" was how he answered the phone. Sharon ’s pussy normally oozed some whenever she heard his voice; and when he used derogatory terms, it only got her more excited. But now, he sounded a little peeved. She had to tell him the truth. She gulped hard and said in a very small voice, "I'm in a red carpeted room, Sir. The door locked behind me though. I don't know the room number. I'm sorry." She hesitated to say "and I deserve to be punished". But she knew HE would say it.

"I know that room. Go to the east wall ( Sharon had gotten turned around in this place and wasn't sure which way was east) and pull on the black handle to open a small panel," he commanded. "You WILL be punished for this, slave." Upon hearing those words, Sharon 's pussy trickled out some pre-orgasmic juices.

On suddenly-shaky legs, Sharon felt along each wall for that black handle he'd mentioned. She found it. Her sharp intake of breath signaled that discovery to the professor.

"Now put your phone back in your pocket and grasp those levers with both hands simultaneously. I'll be there in two minutes." The phone clicked in her ear. Sharon flipped it closed and slid it into a back pocket. Steeling herself, she lifted her hands above her shoulders and grabbed two rubber handles in the middle of each vertical iron bar. She wondered what she was supposed to do with these bars and tried pulling them. But they didn't budge. A little jolt of electricity surged through her body.

Sharon suddenly had an itchy nose. She tried to scratch it, but found she couldn't get her hands off the bars. It was as if they had been glued there. Struggling harder now, she looked around for some leverage, something to help pry her hands off... but no. So she leaned forward and rubbed her nose on the shag wall.

Just then, Professor Reg Peters strode into the room. He pocketed the master key and smiled sinisterly at his captive student. Sharon had to look over her shoulder to see the burly professor, as he had entered directly behind her.

"Sir?" she asked, not knowing what else to say.

Reg stepped up to her and slipped his hands under her bulky sweatshirt. His fingertips found her hardened nipples and pinched them. He pulled on them, lifting her breasts too, causing a gasp of pain to escape her lips. Her pussy spasmed again. Instinctively, she tried to close her legs. The move was not lost on the professor's gaze. He saw the small bump in the back pocket of her jeans and reached in to remove her phone. Pocketing the electronic device, he gave Sharon 's ass a sharp slap.

"Sir?" Sharon repeated. "One, Sir?"

Reg chuckled again. Now his hands were unzipping her jeans, pushing them down to her ankles. He held a small electronic device of his own in his right hand. It was two inches long, one inch in circumference and contained one triple-A battery and a very small motor.

"Don't lose this," he said as he pushed the round bullet vibrator deep into her pussy. His fingers came back wet, which was always a good sign. This student was about to learn her second lesson under his personal tutelage. Reg flipped a switch on a small remote control and immediately heard the buzzing sound. Sure, it was muffled by her muff, but still loud enough to be recognizable. In fact, any healthy young woman who attended this college would know that sound. It was unmistakable.

"Sir!" Sharon replied. The vibrator he’d inserted was beginning to work its magic. Already her legs were quivering; with her pussy so wet, would she be ABLE to hang on to the buzzer? So sure she'd lose the thing, she clamped down on it with her Kegel muscles. Her hands were still gripping the bars in the wall panel. The panel itself was eye-height, so her arms were beginning to fall asleep at this angle.

She yearned to ask the professor why she couldn't let go. But she didn't dare speak out of turn. She'd already squandered several chances to be silent by uttering the only name she'd been allowed to call him. Would he punish her for those infractions? She was sure he would.

"Spread your legs, slut," he growled from behind her. But Sharon 's ankles were still adorned with her jeans, so she could only spread them just so far. And by spreading them, she realized she'd have to hold on even tighter to that buzzing bullet inside her. She heard a strange swishing sound, as of something cutting through the air.

Nine points of pressure hit her naked ass at once, causing her to moan and grunt at the same time. "Ohhunnngghhhh!" The swishing sound came again and Sharon cringed, tightening her buttocks. But the thing found nine new places to land!

"Rrrrrrrrrrr..." Sharon growled. Again, the nine points of pain struck her bared flesh; and again, and again. The damned buzzer up her pussy felt like it would fall out at any moment. So she kept her muscles clamped tightly in front, as well as behind.

Reg lifted the leather tipped cat-o-nine-tails and laid it on her ass over and over. Each tail had a knotted end that made a most artistic welt on her alabaster skin. Reg was pleased he'd been trained in using the device, during his own college days. The professor he'd had the pleasure of spanking had been a cougar. She'd taken him in and showed him her "wall of pleasure and pain". He'd immediately grabbed the cat and spent the next hour learning how to wield it.

"Sir?" Sharon dared to ask a question. But she waited for her professor's okay.

"Speak. Choose your words carefully, slut. Each one will count against you," he grunted.

"Why are my hands stuck?"

"Excellent question, cunt. Electricity. The rubber grippers conduct electricity through skin, and until I throw the switch, your hands will remain where they are. Now, five extra words equate to...fifty breast swats."

Fifty!? Sharon was about to protest, but knew better. Anything she'd have to say would only add to the total. Fifty breast swats? What did that mean, exactly? With his hand, or the THING he was using on her ass, or what? What, how, ow! The thing had struck again, accumulating more points of pain on her backside.

Sharon's arms were getting sore now, along with other body parts. She really wanted to see her professor's handsome face instead of facing this red-carpeted wall and the two bars she was gripping. Hell, to be honest, she wanted to be soundly and thoroughly fucked by him. But she would have to wait, obediently, for him to let her go first. She couldn't imagine how he was going to spank her breasts while she stood facing the wall.

Or, how she'd keep the vibrating bullet inside her during such a spanking. When Reg finally stopped whipping her behind, he showed her the cruel cat. Placing it across her stiffening arms, he bent down and helped her step out of her jeans. Then he put a small stool next to her feet and helped her climb up onto it. Finally, he pulled her sweatshirt up over her shoulders, past her heavy breasts, to cover her face. She could breathe through the thick cotton fabric, but just barely. It would soon get hot under there!

One thing that standing on the stool helped was to ease the pain in her arms. But it wasn't very wide. Her heels were touching again. It wasn't quite the "spread your legs" command the professor had given her, but she really had no choice. At least she was able to hold the vibrating bullet in better. Unfortunately, her breasts now hung down a bit more than she'd have liked. They were already exposed, with the sweatshirt over her head. At least it wasn't a cold room. The red shag carpeting helped keep the heat in. The next sound she heard was a soft whhpppptttt and then something hit her left breast, landing directly on the nipple.

"Mmmmm," she moaned in surprise. The thing - whatever it was - stung a little bit. But it wasn't a terrible feeling. She wished she could see it. However, as soon as that thought manifested, she regretted it. The whip she hadn't seen, that had rained down on her ass, was very cruel-looking. What if this thing that was now striking her sensitive breasts was just as evil?

Whhpppptttt. It was more of a frustrating touch than the whip had been. Granted, he WAS hitting her nipples directly. But it was more of an annoyance than anything. Whhpppptttt. Sharon was grateful her professor wasn't making her count. That would be humiliating, especially through the sweatshirt. Her face was sweating now. It was HOT inside the sweatshirt. Well, IT was aptly named, wasn't it?

Professor Peters grinned his wicked grin as he wielded the little device. Its handle was as thin as a wire hanger. In fact, it could double as a hanger, if he so desired. The business end of it consisted of a four inch by four inch rubber square with plenty of holes cut through in a waffle pattern. Sure, it was originally intended to be used to swat flies. But it worked just fine as a breast swatter. It left no scars, except of the emotional variety.

By the time he'd reached fifty, Reg's arm was getting tired. Sharon's breasts were peppered with little red marks. She was dancing on the stool now, partly in pain from the ass-whipping and breast-swatting, partly in pleasure from the vibrating bullet buried deep inside her vagina.

"These little reminders will help you to remember to speak only when spoken to," the professor said. He lifted a wooden spring-type clothespin, squeezed it open and slowly closed it over one erect nipple. He grinned again when his student grunted under her sweatshirt. The second clothespin went on quickly after the first. Then he drew her shirt down over her sore breasts, hiding the nipple pinchers. Now, Sharon was quite glad she'd chosen the extra-large sweatshirt from her plus-sized roommate. The material didn't even touch the nasty old 'pins.

She wished she could let go of the damned bars though. Her knuckles were white; her forearms sore and her muscles - well they just ached terribly. Juices were streaming down her legs from her excitement there. Sharon heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper opening. She braced herself, hoping he'd take her forcefully. Everything Professor Reg did, he did with great force. The student pushed her red-streaked buttocks back a bit, hoping to get her professor's attention.

He slipped two fingers into her pussy and removed the bullet. Sharon gasped in displeasure, but followed it with another gasp as he shoved the well-lubricated buzzer into her anus.

"Ohhhhhh!" she moaned. It was a very full feeling back there. It would get fuller. Professor Peters was so tall, the stool had aligned Sharon's pussy perfectly with his thick, bobbing shaft. He pressed his head against her moist lips and slipped in. At first, it was just an inch or two. But without any warning, he grabbed her hips and pulled her back against him, sliding in all the way until her sore buttocks connected with his crotch. "Mmmmmmm," Sharon grunted in pleasure. She was already on the verge of a climax. Now, he had triggered the first wave.

Reg's fingers squeezed the sides of her torso just above the hips. His thumbs pressed deeply into the punished flesh of her cheeks. He started out quickly, building his rhythm faster and faster. Sharon pushed her ass back to meet his thrusts. She was finally getting the fucking she craved. She wished she could see his face, but if it had to be this way, so be it. Every time he pulled her against his stomach, she felt that little buzzing bullet go deeper into her ass. Reg could feel it too, through the membrane wall. It was stimulating him as much as it was her.

When he was ready, he pulled out and ejaculated onto her backside in several long, stringy spurts. When he removed his flaccid member from her vagina, he wiped the tip on her reddened ass.

"Keep the vibe," he said, as he zipped up his pants and adjusted his clothing. "I'll keep the remote. I expect to see you squirm, in my classroom tomorrow. But give me these," he quipped, reaching under her sweatshirt and quickly removing the clothespins.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" Sharon screamed as the blood rushed back into her hardened eraser tips. She climaxed one more time from that simple act. She could hear him moving about behind her. Her breath was coming in short gasps as she tried to come to grips with the pleasure coursing through her body. She heard him unlock the door behind her. Was he leaving her alone here? She panicked. She almost said something. But she dared not to.

"You're free to go, slut," he said, as he flicked a light switch she hadn't seen, and the electricity that had held her hands on those damned bars finally stopped pulsing through her limbs. Her hands slipped from the grips and she collapsed against the shag wall.

Once her breathing returned to normal, she bent down to pick up her jeans. As she zipped them up, she realized she still had the vibe inside her, but it wasn't on any more. Her professor had switched it off when he'd walked out the door. But Sharon realized he'd kept her flip phone. Oh well, she'd have to get it back from him in tomorrow's class. She wondered what would be on his lesson planner for tomorrow.