Wicked Lessons

by Siggy Shade

To everyone who loves the kind of morally gray hero who would burn down the world for you

Phoenix dips her head, looking like she’s hiding a smile. She’s hiding something, alright, but she can keep her secrets for now. Because on Saturday, I’ll bend her over my knee and teach her never to hide her beauty. Then as I’m fucking her raw, she’ll spill her entire life story.

“Don’t worry about me, little sister,” I say to lighten her mood. “Auntie,” she snaps.

I hang up and run my fingers through my hair. Wednesday could work. The Red Room is delivering my purchases tomorrow, and I only lecture on Mondays and Thursdays. The playroom will be more than ready for her by Saturday.

Her face is just as beautiful as before but is now framed by tawny brown hair with amber highlights that cascade down to her breasts. She’s the vision of a fragile innocence waiting to be ruined. Ruined by me.

“Touching myself,” she says, her voice breathy. “While thinking of you.” My cock hardens. The corners of my mouth twitch as I suppress a reaction. “Sorry to have interrupted such an important endeavor. Do continue.” Phoenix licks her lips, and this time, I groan.

When her legs come into view, I lose interest in her reading material. They’re lean and long and most importantly, lead to a glistening pussy. What’s left of the blood in my face drains to my dick, leaving me lightheaded. I want to reach into the phone and feast on that sweet cunt until she’s crying for mercy. “What do you want me to do?” she asks, her voice trembling.

“Come closer to the phone,” I say. Phoenix obeys, her eyes alight with arousal. “Pull your arms behind your back.” As she moves into position, with her shoulders back, the silver lace of her camisole stretches taut over her nipples. “Like this?” I groan. “Just like that.” The phone wobbles before falling to the side. I shake my head. “Let’s set up our equipment and do this properly. Then you can show me everything.”

Now, here I am, wearing a thin scrap of fabric to cover my top half, and nothing to conceal my pussy. I lounge back on the pillows with the phone balanced on a stack of textbooks. As Marius sets up his handset, I arrange my legs together in what I hope is an attractive pose. Right now, I’m so excited that all awareness has shot straight to my clit.

And nothing will turn me on more than doing it while watching Marius play with his cock.

I want to run my tongue down the treasure trail disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. “Now, then,” he says in a deep, lazy drawl. “Let’s begin.” I pant through my parted lips and remind myself to play it cool. To act like a sub with her pick of wealthy doms. This means resisting the urge to lean forward. “Can I see you?” I blurt. His deep chuckle makes my skin tingle. Marius unbuttons those jeans and pulls out a cock longer than any dildo sold at the Red Room. With how the phone is angled, it looks thicker than my forearm and adorned with a network of prominent veins. His bulky cockhead glistens with precum, and my throat dries at the immense girth. How on earth will I get it to fit on Saturday night?

“Pull down the strap of your camisole,” he repeats. “Alright.” I slide the band of satin down my shoulder, so it hangs limply down my arm. The entire garment stays in place with the lace cups still hugging my breasts. “Good girl,” he says. “We’ll enjoy our time better when you’re obedient.” My lips curl into a smirk. “And if I’m not?” “You really don’t want to know what I do to bratty girls.”

My heart soars that he likes what he sees enough to confirm we’re still on for the weekend. I slide the second strap off my shoulder and let the satin camisole fall down to my hips. “Squeeze your nipple. Imagine it’s me pulling it with my teeth.” My clit throbs at the order. I pinch one bud and stretch it a little, sending a shockwave of pleasure across my nerves. Biting down on my bottom lip, I breathe quicker. The muscles of my core pulse and my folds become slick. Marius leans forward, and my other nipple tightens under his attention. “Slide your leg to the side like a good girl.” There’s a command in his voice that sounds like he’s accustomed to getting nothing but obedience. Before it even registered that he’s asking me to show him my pussy, I open my legs, exposing myself to the camera. A cool draft swirls across the studio, brushing over my heated skin like a caress. I would never do anything so risky, but the presence of this stranger gives me a peculiar sense of security. “That’s it,” he growls. My heart soars at his praise. “Did you get horny, thinking of me?” he asks. Heat blooms across my cheeks. Right now, I’m weak to his masculine allure. The part of me that doesn’t want to admit to being so needy takes control. I shake my head. “Liar,” he says. “Not with your cunt so glistening and wet. Why else would you call me on video chat while not wearing knickers?”

Marius leans forward, giving me a surge of confidence that I’ve affected a man so powerful and handsome. He keeps his hand fisted around his thick cock with a level of self control that’s missing in men my age. Not that I have much experience, but I didn’t expect him to be so calm. I run gentle circles around my clit and watch him stare at me through hooded eyes. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” he says. “An eager little slut.” A rush of sensation floods my sex, and my breath catches. “What did you just say?” “You enjoy the degradation.” I shake my head, my gaze fixed on that huge cock. Its tip has changed from a deep pink to purple, with a bead of fluid that makes me ache for a taste.

Marius is wrong. I hate being called filthy names, yet why did I have such a strong reaction? “Dirty girl,” he drawls, and the sound goes straight to my clit. The finger circling it quickens, bears down with more pressure, and I groan. “What kind of fucktoy displays her bare cunt to a man she’s only just met?” A needy moan escapes my lips. I rub my clit with tighter circles. It’s not the words that arouse me, it’s the way he says them. Like he approves wholeheartedly of what I’m doing.

“You naughty little brat,” he growls. “I want you to open those pretty thighs wide.” My breath catches, but I spread my legs until they tremble with the strain, imagining his hands holding me open. “Good girl. Now, show me how you cum while you’re fantasizing about me.” I lick my lips, feeling so exposed, lying on my bed displaying my drenched pussy. Anyone could walk in right now and see me, as I can’t remember locking the door. The thought of getting caught makes my heart skip, and I rub harder, faster as though tempting fate.

I rub back and forth over my swollen clit, my movements mirroring his, while imagining what it would feel like for him to give me pleasure. Each stroke is a swirl of sensation that lingers around my core until that entire region of my body becomes a raw nerve. “You’re close,” he says. I nod, too preoccupied with his fluid, up-and-down movements to fully register that my breathing is ragged. Touching myself under his command feels like he’s the one pushing me toward a pool of molten ecstasy. I circle its edge, getting closer to climax with each successive stroke. Marius pants hard, his chest and abs expanding and contracting as he pumps that huge, hard cock. The pulse between my ears is a drumroll. I am on the brink of falling, when he says, “Fuck your pussy with your fingers.” “But I’m about to—” “Now, Phoenix.” Groaning, I take my finger off my clit and exhale a frustrated breath as that sweet pleasure ebbs away. When I slide into my opening, I’m hotter, slicker, and wetter than ever—just at the sight and sound of this man. My muscles clench around the lonely digit, needing more. “That’s it,” Marius says, his voice tight. “I want you to use two fingers.” I slip my index and middle fingers inside. “Like this?”

“Harder. Faster,” he says, and quickens his strokes. I pump my fingers in and out of my pussy, imagining what it would feel like for him to fill me with his digits, his cock, or a toy under his command. The sweet sensations from earlier return with even stronger intensity, and I thrust harder. Before I know it, I’m on the brink of climaxing. “Buck your hips,” he growls and picks up his pace. “Show me what it’s like when you cum.” I do as he says, a whimper resounding in the back of my throat. Ecstasy swirls around my senses like a whirlpool, picking up speed as I pleasure myself with two fingers. My clit is so sensitive that the mere brush of my palm fills me with ripples of pleasure. Darkness creeps across the edges of my vision. “I’m so close.”

“Such pretty noises you’re making for me,” he says in that cultured tone. “But I want to hear you come.” A climax creeps up on me and my voice becomes louder, breathier, needier. The muscles of my diaphragm seize, cutting off my air, until they release with a huge gust of sensation. “Oh, fuck!” My core spasms around my two fingers in waves of pleasure so intense that the rest of my body shudders. I his...

“Keep them open,” he says, his voice pulling me from my stupor. “Stick your fingers in your mouth.” Hesitating, I wonder if I heard him right. “Lick them clean.” His growl is a command I can’t refuse. I run my tongue up and down my wet fingers, giving Marius a show. The room is silent, save for the rasp of his heavy panting, and the distant sounds from other students down the hallway. “Tell me how you taste.” “Delicious,” I say, my brain unable to produce a description. He hums his approval, stroking his dick harder, faster, with shorter movements. “If you were here, I would eat that pussy and make you climax again and again until you passed out.” “Impossible.”

“How many orgasms can you handle?” “Umm… Three?” “I can’t wait to enjoy you—” Whatever he’s about to say is cut off by a low moan that I feel deep in my core. Marius spurts over his six-pack, and his release shoots on his pecs and as far as the dip between his collarbones. My lips part. What will it feel like when he climaxes inside me? “Bloody hell,” he says with a groan. “I can’t wait to have you in my playroom.”

Funny how a man can feel like a jackass the moment the cum has cooled. I’m sitting in the master bedroom of my new house, covered in my own release, and shaking my head at the phone.

What the fuck was I thinking? Getting my cock out in front of a submissive and wanking like a boy on his first visit to PornHub?

Phoenix stands with one leg on a chair, her back faced to a camera positioned on the floor. She wears knee-high socks and a denim mini skirt that exposes both her spankable ass and her wet pussy.

She texts again with the message, Getting myself worked up about Saturday. P xxx. “Dirty girl.” I groan out loud, and pose for a picture of exactly what she does to my cock. She messages back with, May I lick it, sir? Then she adds an emoji of a lolly pop and a winky face poking out its tongue. Suck this. I send her a close up of my hard cock. And she responds with a pussy pic. So much for putting Phoenix out of my mind. All thoughts of my old life, the new job, and what Crius wants me to do evaporate, and by Sunday evening, I’m lounging in the sun room of my villa, exchanging filthy photos with a woman I barely know.

“Your question?” I ask. “What’s your background, sir?” “The London School of Finance,” I reply, cracking my first grin. He shakes his head. “No, I mean—” “Look it up for yourself.” My smile widens.

Images assault my mind: his sharp features, sculpted body, the way he squeezed his huge cock. My head spins, and a surge of arousal overrides the shock. I squeeze my thighs and stifle a groan.

“You’re not canceling our date on Saturday,” I say, my voice trembling. “I want a fancy dinner and a tour of your play room, and then a fuck.”

I gulp. “And you’ll make yourself available to me whenever I want for sexual favors.” His nostrils flare, and a muscle in his jaw flexes. “You’re insane.”

She looks too innocent for someone who just blackmailed me to be her… fuck toy? Sugar daddy? Dom?

Dinner. Playroom. Sex on Saturday. Further sex on demand. Financial support. And she’s prepared to hold her silence as long as I satisfy her demands. In short, Phoenix wants a sugar daddy.

She looks younger in her picture, even more fresh-faced with a smattering of freckles, but there’s no mistaking the softness in her gray eyes. “Hedwig Phoenix Stahl?” I rub my chin.

When will women learn that a man will never change his ways unless he has a gun to his balls?

I scroll through Phoenix’s file, noting two interesting facts. The first is that the security system logs her as a student who leaves the campus each weekend. The second is that both her rent and tuition fees are a month overdue, and were last paid by Gordon Gofannon, a long-time employee of Declan Dagda.

How would Gordon Gofannon react to knowing his daughter is propositioning strange men? Seconds later, the system informs me that it has been read. The texting bubbles appear on screen, indicating that she’s typing a reply. My breath quickens, and I ready myself for a battle of wills. But after a minute, they disappear. My lips curl into a smile. This is a game of mutually assured destruction. She won’t dare reveal my secret if I threaten to reveal hers.

Each new sub deserves brand new toys to be used on her and her alone. It’s why I always divest myself of everything when an arrangement ends. I stand back, admiring my new collection of handmade floggers and paddles and crops.

Professor Segul is mine.

My pussy tingles with impatience, and I squeeze my thighs together, assuring her that Professor Segul is more than capable of satisfying our needs.

Segul can service me. First, I want him to scoop me in his arms, then a light spanking before he forces me on my knees to suck his cock.

Her tongue darts out to swipe along her bottom lip, and I can’t help but track the movement. I want her on her knees, that tongue serving my cock before I fuck her tight little throat.

“But what would Gordon Gofannon say if he knew his precious daughter was sending pictures of her pussy to his enemies?”

Something deep in my withered heart aches. I see a little bit of my younger self in her but not enough to stop my cock from swelling.

“I was never interested in using those pictures for anything but my own pleasure,” I say. A blush blooms across her cheeks, and she lowers her lashes. Phoenix is a delicious combination of naughty and sweet, and I’m salivating for a taste. “Eyes up.” I sharpen my voice. Her gaze snaps back to meet mine, and heat rushes to my groin at her immediate obedience.

“I’m in want of an eager submissive.” I raise a hand toward her cheek but keep my fingers inches from her skin. “Watching you play with your pussy over video chat and hearing you climax has stirred something in me that cannot be appeased.” “Really?” she asks with an outward breath.

Her throat tightens in a swallow, her breath quickens, and I ache to see what she isn’t wearing beneath that raincoat. “I will pay your rent and tuition for the term regardless of your reply.” “Why?” she asks. “I haven’t finished,” I say with a raised eyebrow. “However, in exchange for a monthly allowance, you will be my submissive.”

“I want to fuck you in my play room, then have you available to me for sexual favors,” I say, paraphrasing what she demanded the last time we met. “And you will submit to training to expand your boundaries.”

“You traveled across town wearing a raincoat over your underwear?” I growl. “Yes,” she whispers. “Why?” “Fewer layers for you to unwrap.”

I glare down at her until she squirms. The demon inside me revels at her discomfort. “That was very naughty, Phoenix,” I say. “With one gust of wind, anyone could see that you were half naked under that coat. What if you tripped in those stilettos and the front of your coat gaped open to show your bra, or the person helping you up caught a glimpse of those skimpy knickers?” Her breath quickens. She bows her head and tucks her elbows into her middle, trying to make herself smaller. She squeezes her thighs together, looking like she’s trying to create some friction. “I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” The corner of my mouth lifts into a half-smile. “Do you like verbal chastisement?” I ask. “Degradation?”

She parts her lips to reply, and I think the answer is yes, but then she drops her gaze. “I don’t know.” “Look at me.” She meets my eyes. “Explain.” “I’ve been called names b...

“For the duration of the evening, you will call me ‘Sir.’ Is that understood?” “Yes, sir,” she says with breathy enthusiasm. “I’m ready.” “Wait for me outside the entrance to my playroom.” I point at the door that leads to the basement. She pulls back her shoulders. “Let’s go.” “On your knees.” I raise a finger. Phoenix rears back. “What?” “Crawl to the playroom on your hands and knees.” I enunciate each syllable.