Lessons Continued

Sharon’s dorm room phone rang. Through bleary eyes, she saw her roommate’s bed had already been made, indicating she was alone. She rolled out of bed nude and padded across the cold tile floor to the wall phone. Her roomie had left the window open again and her nipples hardened at the chill in the air. Checking the wall clock, she noted it was half past seven, before answering the phone.

“Hello?”

“I have your cell phone. I need you to retrieve it before class today,” the deep voice said. Sharon’s heart fluttered in her throat. It was Reg! He was calling her dorm room number. Oh shit! That’s right. She’d left her phone behind. Oh crap. Retrieve it?

“Retrieve it from where?” Sharon’s voice trembled.

“Here’s the address. Be here in ten minutes or there’ll be hell to pay,” he said and hung up. She had barely enough time to jump into clothes and dash out the door to make it there in time. She couldn’t even grab a bite to eat. Oh well, she thought. At least she’d get her phone back with plenty of time to spare before her first class. Which, when she thought about it, was all the way across campus. She hoped Professor Reg wasn’t going to keep her long.

But Reg had other ideas, of course. He watched Sharon practically running up his grand front walkway. First she had to negotiate the seventeen stone steps set at eleven inch intervals. Unless you were a tall man with large feet, it was impossible to ascend them quickly. After that, she had to stay on the stone path which wound its way around a labyrinthian garden and finally to the front steps of his mansion.

Before ascending the last set of stairs, Sharon looked back at the main road. She couldn’t see it. Grasping the banister tightly, she pulled her way up the last ten steps, panting as she reached the uppermost level. Her legs just weren’t used to that much climbing, all at once. She was still panting as she pressed the doorbell. Sweat poured down her neck and pooled in the small of her back. Her nipples were hardened little eraser-tips, easy to spot through her tight white t-shirt. The crotch of her stone-washed jean shorts was also soaking wet, through a mixture of excitement and perspiration.

The exhausted student was not prepared for what happened next. The door opened before her, something slipped around both her wrists and tightened above the elbows. Before she could ask what was happening, her mouth was stuffed, taped closed, and a canvas bag had been thrown over her head. She felt herself lifted off the floor and carried through several hallways. Sharon smelled tomatoes, disinfectant, onions, and all sorts of things cooking, as she was carried along.

By the time she was set down roughly on a large wooden table, she realized she wasn’t going to be getting to ANY of her classes today. Her bound wrists were hauled up over her head and attached to a hook she couldn’t see or feel. The bag over her head remained, so she wasn’t going to be seeing what happened next. Cold steel pressed against her thigh, between her flesh and the jeans. She heard a strange scrrrttccchhh. But she couldn’t place it. The cold steel seemed to move further up into the leg of her shorts now. He was going to shove it into her! She squirmed to get out of the way. But the scrrrttttccchhhh sound continued unabated.

“Mmmmppphhhh!” her muffled voice screamed into the gag. Reg cut the final four inches of her jeans away with the heavy-duty scissors he’d recently purchased. He pressed his hand against his student’s swollen lips and then pushed her aqua-colored silk panties into her vagina, making the fabric disappear completely.

The professor removed his hand from her moistened sex and grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt. The scissors moved again, this time, cutting straight and true up to her neck. Reg smiled at her naked breasts. They needed some jewelry, he decided. But until he could get her to a proper parlor, he’d have to pretend. His warm soft hands gently parted Sharon’s thighs until he could get her spread ankles into the straps which would hold them apart indefinitely.

Only now, did he finally remove the hood from his lovely student’s face. She gazed lovingly into his eyes and implored him to release her. But of course, he never did understand the language of a gagged woman. Sharon had never been in Reg’s home before. So she didn’t know he had a secret laboratory hidden in the basement. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw him lift a large plastic bag from a box under the table.

One hundred wooden clothespins were in that bag. Sharon wondered what he could possibly do with those. She soon found out. First, Reg had bent over her breasts and licked her nipples, even biting on them occasionally. When she thought she could take no more, she watched him place one of those clothespins on her nipple. It hurt like hell the first time he let go of it. But even the second one was twice as painful as the first. Just when she thought she’d gotten used to the pinching sensation, he opened one.

Sharon came from that - the rushing of blood back into a pinched area. With her legs spread wide, arms bound over her head and mouth completely gagged, Sharon could do nothing but watch Reg replace the clothespin again. It no longer felt painful going on. She dreaded it coming off. In-between spasming waves, she watched him slip down between her legs with his wicked smile, and the bag of clothespins.

Her thighs were the first to feel the pinching sensation. Reg placed them so close together, he could play them like piano keys under his fingertips. When he had nine remaining, he rubbed one up and down her moist slit. “Mmmmmmm!!!” she screamed into the gag the first time a ‘pin pinched her outer lip. But just as it had been on her tits earlier, her professional professor had succeeded in placing even more of those pinching buggers on her pussy.

Now the professor stood over her, taunting her with one unused clothespin. “There’s only one place left, slut,” he practically barked at her. He knew she loved being called all those dirty names. He rubbed the tip against her clit and watched her reaction. Sharon bucked on the table, trying to get away. But she knew it was no use. Besides, the pins adorning her inner thighs only hurt more when she twitched that way. She bit down hard on the cloth in her mouth and winced in anticipation.

“Mmmmmeeeeeeeeeeeee,” she cried into the gag. The clit pin would be one she’d remember for a long, long time. She must have passed out. When she came to, the only places she still had clothespins were on her nipples and clit. Reg was still alternating placing one and removing it. And Sharon was still orgasming from it.

“Butcherman’s Hall is closed tonight,” Reg said, his finger slipping into her vagina. As it swirled in slow clockwise circles, he continued. “You won’t be attending any classes today. I’ve already informed your other professors of your upcoming absence.” He replaced the finger with his thumb so he could slip his middle fingertip into her anus. Sharon gasped into the gag and humped his hand. He wasn’t going to be letting her go any time soon. She only wished he COULD understand her grunts and gasps.

"Time to learn a new lesson, slave," he continued. With that, he turned away and lit a match. When he turned back, he was holding a large serving tray holding a dozen tall, lit candles in myriad colors. "What you think is pain, really isn't. You've already seen that through my teachings thus far, correct?" Sharon grunted her ascent. She watched her professor tilt the first candle, one of dark purple wax and the subsequent drip that landed on her flesh. It just missed her nipple by an inch, splashing the edge of the areola instead. But it was close enough to get her attention.

When the next droplet DID land on her nipple, it dripped through the clothespin and stung her flesh in multiple spots all at once. Sharon climaxed on the spot. Reg smiled down at her. She'd learned the lesson on the second droplet. Now all that was left was to continue her education by drilling it into her repeatedly.