The Professor's Girl | 18+ | COMPLETE |

+ chapter 15 +

"Good girl," I could hear the pride in Kahlan's voice as I accepted, and it made my stomach tingle. "This is for your benefit too. I need you to learn this lesson thoroughly."

His fingers, slick with my own saliva, continued to stroke over my tight opening. I tried to relax, but the motion felt wrong. How would he even manage to get one finger in there? I had to acknowledge that his touch was still sending waves of pleasure through me. Except now, every caress was punctuated by the fear that this one be the one to press inside me.

"I'm going to need you to tell me why it's so important that you pass this class, Liz," Kahlan said, taking his time to ready me. "What is it you're aiming for?"

"I n-need to pass, because –" I gasped, my head shooting up from the table. His finger had entered me. It felt tight, humiliating . . . but strangely gratifying. I put my head back down with a low moan.

"Talk to me, Liz," Kahlan growled, making me shudder. I wanted to obey. I wanted him to tell me I was a good girl.

"I need to pass because I want to . . . want to go abroad," I managed to get the words out before I was again consumed with sensation. He had pulled out his finger, only to immediately press it back in. How could something so small feel so tight?

"You want to go abroad," Kahlan repeated. "That's right. To Europe. And how will you get there if you don't even have the discipline to get through a simple English Literature class?"

"I d-do have d-discipline." My voice was rapidly losing strength as I squirmed over the tabletop. My muscles were finally beginning to relax, as the burn caused by his finger was giving way to a peculiar, all-encompassing pleasure. I had never had something make me feel so naughty, so embarrassed, and yet so absolutely enthralled.

"Is that so?" His finger pressed deep, past his knuckle, as far as he could push it. I sobbed at the combined pain and pleasure, wishing I could grip something. Instead I could only strain against the hold Kahlan had on my wrists. "If you have discipline, you would have kept up on your reading. If you had discipline, you would have been able to answer my essay question. If you had discipline, we wouldn't be here right now, would we Miss Lizbeth?"

"No we wouldn't," I whimpered pathetically. I could feel the heat growing just below where he had entered me, my other parts begging for attention and receiving none.

"I'm going to stretch you, Liz," Kahlan said suddenly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "So you remember this."

There was already no way I could possibly forget his "lesson" here. I felt the press of another finger, my whimpering now a steady stream of noise that couldn't be quieted as I wriggled and cringed in anticipation. The second finger pressed harder, making pain shoot through me.

"Stop, stop, stop," I babbled, unable to contain the fear I had of the stretching he had promised. He didn't push any further, but he did not pull out either. "I can't – no – too – too tight – Kahlan please –"

"Ssshhh," he shushed. "You can say the word, Liz. I'll stop."

The word. It was right there on the tip of my tongue. Even here, in my most weakened, vulnerable state, I still had that power over him. A single word and he would stop without hesitation. That realization comforted me. He could bring me to this state of abject humiliation and yet still treat me with respect.

No more struggle, no more gasping, no pushing or stretching. But also no pleasure. No release. I would spend the rest of the evening in frustration until I could get home and give myself a meager, insufficient answer to the problem. Doubtlessly, if I was to stop him, I wouldn't be the only one going home unsatisfied. I could feel the tension in his body, the desire to have me. It gave me a bravery I hadn't known I possessed.

"You can keep going, sir," I said.

"I need you to tell me you want it." His fingers brushed tantalizingly over my cheeks, slipping beneath the small curves and appreciating every inch.

"I want it, sir," I begged. "Please. I want more."

The re-entry of his fingers – two at once – made me bite into my lip as I barely managed to hold back a primal cry of pain and pleasure. He began to slide slowly in and out, picking up speed as I opened to him. My clitoris was throbbing for attention so badly that I began to try to rub against the table beneath me.

"I expect you to pay attention in class from now on," he scolded. "Every time you don't, there will be punishment for you. I won't see you lose out on your studies on account of your desires." His left hand released my wrists suddenly, instead grasping me around my middle and pulling me back against his chest. With his arm between my breasts, he grasped my throat and he continued to punish me with his other hand. I could feel an orgasm coming, and my knees almost buckled.

"Please, sir," I cried. "Please let me cum this time."

"Don't you dare cum until I've given you permission," he hissed. All my effort was concentrated on obeying, my eyes rolling back as his fingers began to scissor as he pushed them in and out.

Are you really about to orgasm from two fingers in your ass?" he said, low and dark against my ear. "Just wait until it's my cock inside you."

Fuck. The very idea made me weak. He was holding me up almost entirely now. I was shaking my head frantically, knowing I was going to fail. "Please, sir, I can't stop myself, please, I want to cum!"

He squeezed my throat, cutting off my air as he said, "Then cum for me, baby."

My consciousness seemed to black out for several seconds as ecstasy washed over me. I felt myself squeeze tighter around his fingers, which only heightened the overwhelming stimulation. He held me, his body hot and hard against me, and I heard him gasp as I was overcome with pleasure, "Fuck, Liz, you're so beautiful."

Next thing I knew he pulled me up and pressed me against the wall, his member out and ready. My pussy was practically begging for him. I was limp as Jello, barely able to hold myself on my own two feet. He entered me, moaning as he did, holding my wrists captive against the wall as he took his pleasure.

"Oh god, Liz," he said from between clenched teeth, pressing his face against my neck as I felt him swell within me. I clawed the wall as he released, a blissful smile spreading over my face.

+++

a/n: Well. *fans self* I uuuhhh, yeah.

Just to give a note here, a big part of writing BDSM into romance for me is ensuring that the element of consent is shown. While consensual non-consent or kinky I-convinced-you-to-like-it sex is fun in the fantasy sense, incorporating BDSM into real life requires so much communication and respect between partners. This is a fantasy story, but I really did want to show the importance of using a safety word, and looking for permission while still being "dominant."

Consent is sexy! As is respecting your partner, and your partner having respect for you ♡

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