Sarah's Tutorial: Corbin's Bend, Book 2 (5 page)

The girl shall, if told by Dunn that he intends to enjoy her anally, clean the interior of her anus by placing cleanser upon one of her fingers and inserting it into her anus.

The girl shall ensure that her vagina and anus are sufficiently lubricated so Dunn may easily penetrate her vagina and/or anus without ceremony, should he wish. The girl understands Dunn’s preference is that she masturbate to achieve this lubrication, but the girl is permitted to carry a tube of personal lubricant in her purse, and to excuse herself to apply said lubricant in the lavatory, should Dunn inform her he intends to penetrate her.

Sarah's right hand moved from her breast to her thigh. The fingertips touched the lace of her panties. John took a picture. Sarah moaned, thinking about Professor Dunn announcing in lecture that Sarah should get her ass ready for fucking and go wait in his office, over his desk.

Chapter 7

The next part of the affidavit, Dunn knew really almost too well, read:

SCHEDULE B: Sexual gratification of Dunn

The girl shall furnish herself, both in bodily person and in mental attention, for Dunn’s sexual gratification whenever and wherever Dunn requests.

The girl shall keep her schedule in such a way as to ensure Dunn may avail himself of her for his sexual gratification every day at least twice: once before 5 p.m. and once after 5 p.m.

The girl specifically waives her right to refuse to gratify Dunn because a given time is inconvenient or a given location uncomfortable, or too public.

The girl shall furnish her bodily person to Dunn for sexual intercourse in whatever manner and in whatever posture Dunn requests.

The girl’s conduct in respect of Dunn’s membrum virile (MV) shall be reverent. Dunn reserves the right to determine what said reverence shall comprise, but the following protocols are to be observed:

The girl must ask permission before touching Dunn's MV.

The girl must use reverential language when referring to Dunn's MV, such as "your beautiful cock."

When Dunn's MV is uncovered in her presence, the girl must, when not instructed to look elsewhere, look exclusively at Dunn's MV.

* * * * *

He watched her read this part, wondering what she was thinking, but assured at least that she enjoyed the experience by the way her fingers, back inside her lacy little thong, still moved naughtily in the blonde curls that he could hardly believe she might actually be going to remove, because he had instructed her to do so. Joanna and Miriam had both already been shaved (not waxed) when he began playing with them, and by the time he thought of ordering Miriam to wax for him, that relationship had already shown signs of waning.

The question of whether he was right about Sarah Harshaw seemed in one way to be resolved in the incredible heat of her submission here on the couch of his office, but little things worried him like the clause about waxing. Or perhaps they didn't worry him, but they did needed to be resolved. Watching her read the part of Schedule B that concerned the way she was going to treat his cock made him uncomfortably hard, and so very eager to expose himself right then and there, to see if she would do what he’d included in the Schedule, that for a moment he started to doubt his sanity.

Then she looked up with a kind of delicate lust in her eyes he had never before seen in any woman's eyes, and said, "Sir, may I please see your beautiful cock?"

He wasn't sure he could actually speak, but he finally managed to say, "No, Sarah, you may not. I think you're going to have to wait a few days for that."

Her brow furrowed and he could see she didn't know how to continue.

"Do you need a spanking right now, young lady?" he asked. "Finish reading." With another of her wonderful little whimpers, she returned her eyes to the paper, and began reading Schedule C.

SCHEDULE C: Disciplinary Consequences of Refusal

In the following circumstances, the girl shall be liable to corporal punishment by Dunn:

If the girl should refuse a request by Dunn;

If the girl should speak disrespectfully;

If the girl should fail to please Dunn in any way;

If Dunn should desire that the girl be punished.

The girl shall, in any of the above cases, be punished principally, but not exclusively, upon her buttocks, with one of the following implements:

hand,

hairbrush,

leather spanking paddle,

strap or belt,

switch,

flogger,

school punishment cane.

She finished reading. She had read the whole thing without screaming for the police or calling him a maniac. She looked up at him, that same lust in her eyes, and said in a voice that seemed an octave lower than her usual soprano, as if strained to get the words out through a curtain of desire, "Sir... what are you going to spank me with tonight?"

The question took him aback. Frankly, he didn't know. It seemed like it might be very important to her that he get this right, and he didn’t know of a way to figure out what the best answer was to her arousal.

He took a deep breath, and looked at her, trying to study her in a dominant style. "I don't know, Miss Harshaw. What were you spanked with at home?"

He clearly chose the correct question, but it was also very dangerous. He could read mixed emotions on her face, both desire and repulsion. "Hand and... strap, sir," she said.

He knew the answer, and suddenly he felt like he knew her–really knew her–and God help him, he loved what he knew. She wanted this to be different. She wanted to leave her family behind.

"I fear then that I must use the paddle upon your little bottom, Miss Harshaw," he said, confident now that he had read the moment correctly. "It is a bit harsh for your first time in tutorial, but my tutorials are not to be confused with family life. Far from it."

He saw both lust and gratitude in her eyes, and he felt like he was about to transcend his body with the mingled arousal and romantic joy of the moment. What the Hell was happening? This evolving thing didn't represent a little affair that might pose a problem of concealment, but which he wanted to try because both Dunn and Sarah wanted to explore BDSM–this thing constituted something more: Sarah was something more. He thought again about that little conversation two days before, when she'd asked him for a meeting outside of office hours.

"What is it that you'd like to discuss, Miss Harshaw?" he'd asked, using the throwback academic manner he knew made most high-achieving students–like her–happy to live the old-fashioned dream of how college should be.

"I'm hoping to apply to graduate school, Professor, and I have a project that might be the basis of a tutorial, next semester?" Something about the upward lilt of her voice struck him as dangerously perfect. It was miles away from the standard undergraduate "Like, next semester?" It bore much more resemblance to a fox hunter saying, "We'll pull up at the next cover, over the brook?"

"What's the project?"

"I'm really fascinated by Livy's mythic history of Rome. I just find impossible to accept Mommsen's contention that it's historically based. Don't you?"

"You've read Mommsen?" he asked, genuinely surprised. A Colorado girl reading Mommsen on her own?

She blushed. "Not in German, of course!"

They were alone now in the lecture hall. "Well, by all means, let's discuss it. Are you free this afternoon?"

"Um, no, I'm not," Sarah said, suddenly seeming to develop a great deal of hesitancy. "Actually, I'm not free during the day much at all. Is there any chance we could meet Thursday evening?" She looked up into his eyes, and his heart did a strange little dance in his chest. Was she...?

"Ah, yes, alright. That's certainly possible. 7 p.m.?"

"Everyone else will be gone by then, right?"

"Er, yes... almost certainly."

"I'll see you then, professor." As she walked away, he saw her put her head down and wondered desperately what she thought.

* * * * *

"Are you prepared to sign the affidavit, Miss Harshaw?"

"Yes, sir."

Dunn gave Sarah the pen, watched her try to find a hard surface on which to write, finally watching her settle the first page on her thigh, and sign, then, her face red and steadfastly not looking up, initial all the pages of the schedules. Silently, she handed pen and affidavit back to him, and looked at him with what seemed to him a kind of wonder in her eyes, a wonder he shared, absolutely.

He had a desperate urge to kiss her. He didn't think he'd ever wanted to kiss anyone as much as he wanted to kiss Sarah Harshaw right then, but he knew that had to wait for aftercare, if this whole thing were going to work. Getting involved romantically in a traditional way, and denying his needs–and hers, apparently–was the kind of thing that had given him an outwardly wonderful, often agonizing, vanilla marriage that had crushed his soul in certain important respects, for twenty years.

So he said, “Now, Miss Harshaw, I’d like you to put your panties and bra back in order, stand up, and come over here,” he said. Still looking straight into his eyes, she pulled her right bra cup back into position, then, glancing down in a way that made him think he had just swallowed the moon, she tugged the front of her panties back across her vulva, so he once again lost the spectacular, shameful view she had given him. She stood, looking at him questioningly again.

“Stand in front of me now," he said.

She came to stand before him dressed only in her lacy silk bra and the matching thong panties, as he sat in his throne-like desk chair. For an instant he found himself lost in the fantasy she had, as she was putting them on, imagined maybe allowing him to catch a glimpse of those lovely panties, to seal the deal on his recommendation for graduate school. How absurd that he had her here, in the flesh, in her underwear, and yet the thought of her putting that underwear on and thinking of him as she did so drove him crazy with a romantic lust that made him feel like he was seventeen again.

But he was still fully clothed. He was a Dom, and she was a sub, and that existed beyond the fact that he was forty-five and she was twenty-one, and that he was her professor and she was his student. He enclosed her slim, naked thighs with his powerful, wool covered ones.

Dunn looked into Sarah's eyes, level with his now, and placed his hands upon her hips. Idly, or so he wanted it to appear, he hooked his left thumb into the thin string that constituted the waistband of her panties. She gasped.

“Now let’s talk about the right to determine your bodily posture, whether at any other time, or when I’m fucking you.”

His eyes still looked straight into hers. She gasped again. He smiled sardonically.

“That word has something startling about it? That’s strange. You young ladies are so brazen these days—and yet mere words can still make you gasp. Moreover, I believe I heard you saying to Miss Palmer the other day that the fucking quiz was too fucking hard.”

At that point, she tried to turn and escape from his legs. She had turned bright red from her lovely little breasts to the roots of her hair. Hoping it was just a momentary thing, but ready to let her go if necessary, he locked his knees around her thighs and held her fast.

“So girls these days can say it, but they still don’t want to do it. They’d rather ‘go all the way’ or ‘hook up’.”

He affected a laugh. She looked into his face again, defiantly.

“You don’t want me to fuck you, then?”

Again she looked away. But then she looked back, and deeply, into his eyes. Was he right about what he saw there? He couldn't help it: he swallowed. He saw the doubt come into her eyes, and realized he had to push, that tonight could well be the best chance either of them would ever have to find real happiness on this earth, and the only way to secure it, if that were the case, was with the rod.

Thus he forged on. “Delightful,” he said, pretending the swallow hadn't happened. “Even though, as I said, I don’t enjoy the–let’s say–periphrasis of romance, I do love to violate it. But only to a point.” With his right hand he took her chin and held her face so she kept her gaze on his. “Answer the question, Sarah. Do you want me to fuck you? Answer the question, you little cock tease.”

He kept his voice low, but–God help him –tried to work real brutality into his tone.

“S—sir... yes...”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir... I w—want y—you to f—fuck me.” She tried to cover her face with her hands.

“Are you a cock tease, Sarah Harshaw?”

“No!”

“Yes, you are. You're a very bad girl. You are a cock tease, and a whore."

There. He had gone as far as he thought it was possible to go in that direction. He had pushed it, and if she was who he thought she might be, it would be a good that he had, and if she wasn't, he supposed, the worst thing that could happen is that he could be arrested. At this moment, with Sarah Harshaw in her lacy lingerie locked inside his knees, it was worth it.

The words had their effect. Sarah made a sound remarkably like a kitten who wanted milk, and he had again resisted the urge to kiss her, and he thought he could smell the effect the words had in the air of his office.

“Do you really think you would be standing here in your panties if you weren’t a whore, Sarah? You are sorely in need of a paddling, aren't you?”

Sarah closed her eyes.

“Nothing to say? All right, then. Turn around and bend over until your palms are on the floor, bending your knees as much as is necessary to make the posture reasonably comfortable. The idea is to show me your delectable little co-ed ass, so I can inspect it and see what it’s good for, and then give it what it deserves for the disgraceful display you have put on here tonight.”

She shook her head wildly.

“Understand, Sarah—I’m not going to fuck you now. I do, however, want to enjoy the sight of your maidenly charms, at my leisure, since they belong to me now, and to make you endure my touch there... as well as to give you some idea of how I will use you in the future. And, of course, you have a spanking coming.”