Teaching Tara (An Age Play Story)

BOOK: Teaching Tara (An Age Play Story)
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Teaching Tara (An Age Play Story)

Devon Shire

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Disclaimer:
This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic, adult language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable which might include: male/male sexual practices, multiple partner sexual practices, strong BDSM themes and elements, erotic elements and fetish play. This e-book is for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please do not try any new sexual practice, especially those that might be found in our BDSM/Fetish titles without the guidance of an experience practitioner. Neither the publisher nor its authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles.

 

Publisher’s Note:
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses, and incidents are from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual places, people, or events is purely coincidental. Any trademarks mentioned herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks used are specifically in a descriptive capacity.

 

First Edition

©2012

 

 

 

 

 

Someone knocked on his door. It was soft and timid, a student James guessed before he looked up. It was his office hours, so he shouldn’t have been surprised, and yet he was. Sure, students showed up all the time, but he didn’t expect to see this girl.

Tara. A sophomore from his second semester, she had enrolled in his college composition course about two months before. Back then, he supposed she had a lot of potential. Now she struck him as the kind of college girl who showed up because her parents made her.

Tara stuck her head inside and asked very demurely, “Professor, may I come in?” She sounded extremely polite. That was something. Even though he spent the whole semester teaching them about audience awareness, plenty of students showed up and demanded entrance as though their satisfaction really mattered. Despite having just turned thirty, James already had a tenure-track position.

“Of course,” he said and typed a few more words.

“I really need to talk to you,” she said somewhat unnecessarily.

James glanced away from his computer screen. He wanted to chuckle at her, but laughing at students never came off well. Besides, a complaint to his department chair could lead to a bigger headache, so he gave her a modicum of courtesy. Not that she deserved it.

As pretentious as it sounded, James considered himself to a serious scholar. He wanted to understand the world, and as a teacher, he wanted to help his students do the same. But then he got pupils like Tara. On the first day, she had seemed eager and able, but as the semester dragged on, she got distracted. She didn’t seem to pay much attention in class. Unlike most of the others, she didn’t play with her phone or computer, but her work was sloppy and poorly considered.

James suppressed a sigh, mostly because it wouldn’t do any good. He had dealt with plenty of students like her. They showed up to college and expected it to be just like high school. Chances were she flirted with her last teacher or said something adorable stupid to get her through. Only James believed in the university system. He didn’t want to see bad little girls like her get through it.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

Tara tightened her lips for a moment as though she had to work up the nerve to broach some taboo subject, “Um, I need to discuss my grade with you.”

“All of your scores are on the class portal,” he said at once. It was the automatic answer. The points added up. Now the numbers decided who passed and who failed, only finals were approaching fast, which meant a lot of the students suddenly became very concerned.

“Yeah, I know. But I’m failing,” she said, her voice drifting off as though she never considered this possibility.

“So what would you suggest at this point?” asked James. He generally turned these conversations back on the students. Too often, they tried to make it sound as though it were the teacher’s fault.

Tara didn’t use that tactic. Instead, she licked her lips and said, “Please, I really need to pass. Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?”

“Why do you need to pass so badly?” For most students, the answer was simple. They felt the class was a waste of time, so they didn’t want to have to take it again. A few of them were dumb enough that they actually told the truth

“I’m on scholarship,” she said. Before he could say anything about personal responsibility, she looked at him for the first time. She had pretty blue eyes, he thought. “Please, Professor Emerson, I know I’ve screwed up. It’s just that I’ve been really distracted in class, and I know it’s my fault, but I want to do well, and it’s really hard, and I know I should have tried harder, but I want to succeed. Please, is there anything I can do, anything at all?”

Her teacher paused to take her in as he considered the situation. He had been looking for someone for some time, and now he watched her with a different set of eyes. She had misbehaved. She had been very naughty, ignoring her schoolwork and turning in shoddy assignments. Okay, he thought, he might be able to help her.

Besides, Tara was very pretty in an innocent girl-next-door sort of way. She had straight, dark brown hair with red highlights, blue eyes, and a few freckles along her nose. James had never been terribly interested in any of his students. She had softly rounded features, enough to give her a youthful and nearly innocent appearance. And once in a while, he watched her in class and how she talked and chatted and laughed with her classmates during break. She could be animated and intelligent when she wanted to be. Plus she had a gorgeous body. Even though she tried to hide it, her breasts were firm and plump. She also had a slim waist and sexy legs. The guy who got to play with her would be very lucky indeed.

He hadn’t considered using Tara for his side project before, but she was looking better by the second.
“What are you asking for exactly?”
“I need to pass. Just tell me what I have to do.”

James leaned back and seemed to consider this. “It wouldn’t be fair if I simply gave you a passing grade, especially if you didn’t deserve it.”

“Look, I can write another set of papers or redo the homework or do a presentation. Please, this is very important to me.”

James gazed back at her for several moments, not because he wished to learn anything new of this girl, but rather to let her squirm a bit. Too many students figured they could beg and plead their way into passing any course so long as they had a sad story to tell. By this point, James couldn’t even remember how many students lost a grandparent in the last five weeks. There must have been a virus striking at the elderly.

It worked. Tara did squirm as she sat there, eyes downcast. She didn’t know what would happen if she failed. On one level, she knew she deserved it. When the semester began, she had been so determined to succeed. James was the young kind of English teacher, the sort that made her want to learn as much as possible because he was straight-up hot. But then she kept getting distracted by fantasies of her and her professor. Now she had to pay for it, and she had to beg, and she hated it, but there didn’t seem to be any other options.

“Are you really willing to do anything?”

Under a different set of circumstances, his question might have sounded dirty, and Tara would have liked that. A lot. Instead though, he simply came off as an annoyed instructor tired of dealing with entitled brats.

“Yes, I’ll do anything.”

“Alright, one second,” he said and turned back to his computer. He searched through a couple different folders. As she waited, Tara squirmed a bit more. She tried to look relax and serious at the same time. She probably just came off as awkward and unsure of herself.

After another minute or so, he finally clicked one more icon, and the printer beside his monitor thrummed to life. Three sheets of paper were spat out. James gathered them up, checked to make sure they were the right one, and passed it to her.

“Tara, this is a contract. If you really want to pass this class, then you’ll sign it and I will put in the extra work to help you pass.”

“Really?” she sounded dumbfounded as though she were surprised he would really help her. “Thank you! Thank you so much! Professor Emerson, I promise I won’t let you down!”

“Hold on there,” he told her, the gravity of his tone weighing down her good spirits. “Before you get too excited, read the contract. If you agree to its terms, sign it and give me a call. My number is one the front page. Understand?”

“Yes, absolutely!” she said, nodding way too excitedly.

James grinned at her even as she kept babbling about how she wouldn’t let him down. Then she hopped up like an over sugared bunny and sprinted from his office. Once she left, he closed the door, sat back, and wondered how long it might take to truly train her.

 

Tara clutched the papers to her chest as she strode down the hall. She couldn’t believe it. He was going to give her a second chance. Sure, it would probably be a lot of work, but what if he wanted to tutor her?

Tara didn’t like admitting it, but she sounded a lot like a schoolgirl with a crush whenever she thought of her teacher, Professor James Emerson. Even his name sounded romantic. Before his class, she never understood the girls who said a handsome teacher could make it hard to concentrate.

Well, now she knew…

Since she didn’t have any more classes today, Tara headed back to her apartment. It was right off campus, so it only took her about twenty minutes. Through the whole way there, she tried to concentrate on her essays. She had a lot of work to do, but if she tried hard, she hoped to make them good enough to impress Professor Emerson.

When she finally unlocked her front door and headed inside, Tara found her roommate already on the couch, feet up, remote in hand. She looked bored as she flicked through the different channels. She only paused for a moment before moving on. She jumped between court shows, basketball games, and a movie about cheerleaders.

Tara plopped down on their love seat and started reading through the contract. It was surprisingly complex, so she glanced back to Jessie, “Hey, want to put some of your pre-law major to work and tell me what you think of us?”

Jessie perked up. Unlike a lot of their classmates, she was especially eager to get out of school. Most of the people they knew still wanted to party and savor every moment of freedom they could. Jessie, on the other hand, was the kind of Type A workaholic who craved nothing more than the corner office at some prestigious law firm where she could save or condemn the planet.

She hadn’t decided yet.

With an eager grin, Jessie rolled off the couch and snatched up the outstretched paperwork. She fell back onto the couch, back straight this time, knees together, and studied the material. Tara watched for a while as her friend worked through the material.

“Tara, this is pretty serious.”

“It’s a contract,” she said. “I’m not doing so well in English.”

This time Jessie glanced up, her eyes lit with a twinkle of mischief. “So all that time spent gawking at Professor Hot Stuff didn’t help you learn the material?”

“Not so much,” said Tara, falling back against the back of her seat. A burst of energy ran through her as she pounded her fists against the air and giggled like a middle school student, “It’s not fair! He gets all serious as he’s talking, and it’s so hot! How am I supposed to pay attention to what he’s saying when he looks so good?”

“Well, this includes some mandatory tutoring.”

“With him?” Tara had hoped. She had definitely fantasized. But she never considered the actual possibility a professor like Emerson would be willing to spend time with her. Most of the teachers at his level spent their time in libraries or laboratories. Suddenly Tara felt a touch of heat along her neck and up her cheeks as she considered the possibility she might really get to spend some time with him.

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