Big Book of Smut (23 page)

Selene woke the next morning to the sound of the door clicking shut. She frowned and rubbed her eyes. Then the scent of Master and last night's sex came to her and a slow smile spread across her lips. Her pussy was still slightly sore from his treatment of it last night. She felt dirty and sticky from the sweat and cum.

Very un-Selene-like.

The pillow next to her still had the indent of where his head had rested. In the indent, a single piece of paper shook as she exhaled. She reached out from under the blanket and picked it up.

'Have fun in New York, kitten. -Sir '

Huh. So she'd tamed Master. For now, at least.

She glanced at the clock. She had another hour before her alarm would go off. New York and other thoughts were for later. She put the note back on the pillow and cocooned herself further in the warmth of the blankets, closing her eyes.

For now, she was kitten.

About the Author

Alexandra West loves chocolate-covered pretzels, collars, corsets and all sorts of other things starting with the letter 'C'. She's come a long way (no pun intended) from her tween days giggling and blushing while reading historical romances. She loves a good quickie and that translates into her short erotic fiction.

http://xandrawest.blogspot.com

Chapter 1: Valerie Earns a Spanking

Valerie clutched her briefcase close to her chest as she hurried down the hall. She would be late to class if she weren’t careful, and she couldn’t slack on her teaching duties any more — the dean was starting to notice. She wished Marcus let her button up her blouse higher. It was bad enough constantly near-flashing her almost all-male class of virile college students. She didn’t need her colleagues seeing the wanton display of cleavage as well.

The hallway was empty, and Valerie was thankful for that, at least. Until she turned the corner and bumped straight into him. He was standing there, waiting for her.

Grinning wolfishly.

Marcus.

The door to an empty classroom was beside him. He pushed it open. “After you,” he said. “Slut.”

Valerie glared at him briefly and marched through the doorway. “I’ll be late for class, you know—” she began.

“Oh, I know,” Marcus said. “And you’ll be even later than me. You know we can’t walk in together.” She’d told him that at their first encounter, and ever since then he’d used it against her to make her arrive a few minutes after him, every time. “Put that briefcase down and show me what you’ve got.”

Out of habit her body responded to his demands. She set her work aside and pulled the short skirt she wore up past her hips. The skirt barely covered her ass as it was, and beneath she was naked, brown curls delineating her womanhood.

Oh, Valerie wanted to defy him. She wanted to tell him he was out of line, that she was old enough to be, well, if not quite his mother, at least an aunt. That she didn’t like him or what he did to her, with her….

Marcus shot his hand at her pubis, cupping her entire pussy. He rubbed his fingers against her damp labia. “My, what is this? Spread.”

Valerie stepped wider. Marcus slid a finger inside her vagina, then slipped in a second finger. “What is all this wetness?” he tsked.

She didn’t know why he had her do this. She didn’t need to spread her legs while standing for him to be able to finger her. He just did it to humiliate her, to make a point. Well, she wasn’t going to let him get that satisfaction.

“Have we been touching without permission? You know this—” and he put his thumb near her clit, fingers still inside her, and squeezed her entire pussy area — “is mine.”

“Yes,” Valerie said, her voice going a bit hoarse against her will, then she panicked, realizing Marcus might not understand which question she was answering.

“Hmm?” Marcus asked idly, squeezing again and rubbing her clit with his thumb for good measure.

“No! No, I haven’t been touching, I swear.”

Marcus slid his fingers, gliding easily in and out of her lubricated hole. Valerie grabbed his shoulder, wishing he’d move back to her clit. The area felt so empty, so lost with his thumb’s pressure gone.

Marcus pulled his fingers out abruptly, leaving them touching her labia. “Hands behind your back!” he snapped, “Unless you want to crawl into that classroom on all fours.”

Shit
. In the aroused state she was in, she might just do it, too. Valerie quickly clasped her hands behind her back, just as much to avoid having to discover the depths of her own depravity as it was to get Marcus to begin fingering her again as a reward for obeying.

With her arms behind her, her chest was thrust outward, and Valerie could feel her breasts straining against the thin material of her blouse. As it was, it barely covered her nipples, and now, pressed taut, the cloth could not contain the top of her cleavage from spilling over. Marcus shoved two fingers inside her pussy again, and thrust quickly in and out. Valerie held her hands more tightly and swayed on her feet as she tried to maintain her balance even as her arousal grew and her breathing became heavier.

Marcus stopped fingering her hole and rubbed around her clit methodically. Against every smidgen of propriety she held, Valerie moaned.
More, yes, please
. Marcus leaned in to her ear. “Stand still, slut,” he said hoarsely. “And no noise.”

Valerie bit off the moan that was rising in her throat. All that came out was a pathetic whimper.

Abruptly Marcus pulled his hand away. Oh, he was a looker. Brown hair, puppy-adorable brown eyes, a body hard enough to prove he lifted weights and soft enough to prove he drank a little beer. Valerie had made love to that body once, taken him as a lark, she’d thought. A plaything for a night. He didn’t seem the type for long-term relationships or mooning over older professor types anyway.

And, it turned out, he wasn’t that type at all. Marcus wasn’t the type to be a plaything or to be used by his professor. He’d rather enjoyed turning the tables and making her — no,
forcing
her — to be his playing, and not just for a night.

Marcus was fond of saying he didn’t know if he’d ever tire of using Valerie. But presently, he was tired of her mistakes, however innocent they might have been. Valerie knew this was a dangerous moment for her.

Marcus grabbed her shoulders, a strangely similar gesture to hers in the hallway, and turned her around, gently, but brooking no resistance. Valerie let herself be turned, hands still behind her back. That ought to please him, she thought.

She was now standing in front of a waist-high desk, and realization dawned on her.
Oh no, people will hear. There will be
noise.

He pressed on her shoulder blades, pushing until she was bent ninety degrees at the waist, her torso on the desk, her right cheek smushed against the old wood. “What happens to bad girls, slut?” he asked, more than a bit rhetorically.

Valerie knew an answer was expected. “They get punished,” she answered.

“Keep your hands behind your back,” he ordered, and then his hands were gone from her shoulder blades. What time was it? She’d planned to get to class ten minutes early to prepare her lecture materials and rehearse. Instead she’d been shanghaied to a disused classroom, fingered, and was now bent over a desk waiting for gods knew what—

SMACK

Oh, yes. That was what.

He spanked her ass hard, bare-handed. Bent over as Valerie was, her pathetically short skirt covered little, but Marcus grabbed the material and pulled it up around her waist anyway. As with everything he did that appeared unnecessary on the surface, its intent was to humiliate her, make her more aware of her exposed situation.

And in spite of her best intentions, it worked.
I’m a university professor
, she thought.
I’m
published. Though she thought this to reassure herself, it only underlined her predicament.

Hell, it turned her on. She squirmed.

“Who gets punished?” Marcus asked.

What was it he’d said, so long ago, before the first spank? “Bad girls get punished,” Valerie answered, feeling her jaw move against the desk.

SMACK

Marcus hit her ass hard, again, concentrated on the right cheek. Valerie jumped. He continued hitting the right cheek, the sharp sound of his slaps ringing throughout the room. Valerie hoped the sound didn’t carry. This wing of the building was nearly deserted save for her class, but it was public. Anyone could be walking by, at any time.

The pain intensified, all the more unbearable from being trained on one spot. Finally Valerie yelped, and Marcus paused. “Bad girls get punished WHAT?”

Valerie didn’t reply. She certainly didn’t want to say what Marcus was fishing for. He smacked her right ass cheek, hard enough that her torso pushed forward on the desk, her nipples hardening from the stimulation even beneath her bra. “Bad,” he said, curtly.

He smacked her right ass cheek again. “Girls.” It stung, and she hopped involuntarily. Damn.

He smacked her right ass cheek one more time, as hard as before. “Get.” Valerie cried out. This was starting to
really
hurt!

She hopped from one foot to the other, but his hand found her right cheek again, smacking it with force. “Punished.” It was all Valerie could do to keep her hands clasped, and her nipples felt almost as on fire as her ass, the way they were being shoved forward against the desk with every spank.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Valerie cried.

He spanked her right ass cheek once more. “WHAT.” The pause after that was heavy with implication. If she didn’t answer now, who knew what would happen. Best to just get it over with. It was almost time for class, if not past, and gods knew anyone could walk in at any time.

“Bad girls get punished, sir,” Valerie choked out.

“Good girl,” Marcus said. He began to spank her left ass cheek, and Valerie was so relieved that she almost thanked him for it. Her right cheek felt warm and tingly, but blessedly
not being hurt this moment
, which seemed incredibly important. He hit harder and it was hurting, and Valerie hopped from one foot to the other, but it felt like a strange balance was being achieved.

Marcus stopped, and bent over her, practically atop her. His erect cock strained at his pants and poked at her anus. “Soon,” he whispered. He shoved his index finger into her dripping pussy and brought it around to her face, still pressed against the desk. “Open,” he said. Valerie opened her mouth and he stuck his finger in. “Suck,” he said, and Valerie did, tasting herself.

Marcus straightened up. “Get up,” he said, running his fingers through his hair and smoothing his shirt front. He gestured at the skirt hiked around her waist and her blouse all askew, one erect nipple peeking out above the drooping neckline. “Straighten yourself up, slut, and you’d better hope no one gets too close to you in class today. You stink of sex.”

Her ass on fire, Valerie adjusted her skirt and straightened her blouse. Her pussy remembered his fingers, and spasmed, remembering, fruitlessly mimicking a real orgasm. It felt good, but it also felt hopeless — it wasn’t an action she could come from. He could have let her come, she thought bitterly. She had been close, not borderline close, but she could have gotten off quickly enough.

Marcus laughed. “Too bad I took your mints away. You’d better hope no one even
talks
to you. They’ll smell you on your breath, and think you’re a lesbian or worse — that you eat your own juices.”

This was not the relationship Valerie had imagined when they’d first slept together. In fact, she hadn’t imagined a relationship at all.

Chapter 2: How Valerie Got Into Her Predicament

Two weeks earlier, Valerie had simply been a thirty-something professor of philosophy, not an owned slut. Actually, she’d been the one doing the owning, after a fashion. Her long-distance relationship with Rob, who taught at MIT, had crumbled months earlier. He’d shown himself to be a bit of a priss, and Valerie wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that, so they amicably agreed to split up and see other people.

Valerie had gone on dates, but they’d been lackluster. One was a talker, never letting her get a word in edgewise. Another kept staring at her feet, until she regretted wearing strappy sandals. And the third? When he bent to pick a nickel up off the restaurant’s floor, she saw a frilly, hot pink thong peeking out above his waistband.