Wicked Lessons

by Siggy Shade

Her mouth opens and closes, looking like she wishes to protest. I tilt my head, pulling my brows together into a mockery of confusion. “Did you think being my submissive would be all trinkets and sexual pleasure?” “But I’m holding a bottle—” “I’ll transport it downstairs,” I say with a smirk. Her face falls. “But what about dinner?” “Are you hungry?” I ask. She flushes. “No.” “No, what?” I fold my arms across my chest. “No, sir.” “Then crawl.”

I hold still, containing my excitement as she eases herself to her hands and knees and positions herself on the wooden floor in her underwear. She places the bottle on the floor by the skirting board and gazes up at me with doe eyes. Phoenix had given me enthusiastic consent on Saturday evening, Sunday afternoon, and early Monday morning to do with her as I pleased. However, now that she’s kneeling before me, she has reservations. “It’s entirely your decision whether or not to submit, and nothing takes place tonight and beyond without your consent. Do you understand?” “Yes, sir,” she says. “At any time, you may exercise a safe word, and you will be free to leave,” I say. She nods. “Choose one.” “Can we use red to stop and amber to say I’m reaching my limit?” she asks.

As she crawls around, I stare at the wet patch of fabric between the round globes of her ass and imagine her pussy is soaked. It looks like Phoenix enjoys a little humiliation, but I’ll have to tread carefully on the language I use when degrading her. She advances down the hallway, creating a sight I want to memorize for an eternity. I can’t wait to spank that sweet behind until her cheeks turn the color of roses, to stick my cock in her tight wet heat and pound into her until she sees stars. “Good girl,” I say as she reaches the door.

Phoenix gazes up at me, her eyes sparkling. I make a mental note to praise her again to see if that’s her kink. I reach down, pick up the wine bottle, and follow her to the door. She waits patiently, but the rapid rise and fall of her chest says she’s just as eager as I am to play.

I stare at the white door, my vision going blank with a mix of thrill and terror.

I could have backed out a few minutes ago, when Professor Segul offered to give me the money to keep me in university but that hadn’t been enough. What I really wanted was him. His company, his caresses, his comfort, his cock.

But did I really need to humiliate myself and crawl? I suck in a long, shuddering breath. He isn’t looking for a sugar baby but a submissive. A submissive who crawls everywhere, apparently. The pulse between my legs pounds hard enough that I feel it down my inner thighs. I squeeze them together, hoping the wetness of my pussy hasn’t shown through the fabric of my knickers. Humiliation isn’t arousing. I’m just excited by his presence. That’s all. It has nothing to do with being made to crawl or being called a good girl. Nothing to do with having to strip in front of him and then getting chastised for walking around in my underwear. Professor Segu...

“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice is unexpectedly cold. “I can’t crawl down the stairs.” “You will unless you want punishment,” he says and gives me a gentle pat on the head. “Take your time.” My insides shiver with a ripple of excitement that settles straight into my core. The muscles tighten, and I squirm on my ass, feeling my pussy get wetter. Disobeying him would be worthwhile if it means getting those hands on my ass. I peer up at him and ask, “What kind of punishmen...

He stands behind me, and at this angle, I’m sure my entire ass is on display. And if there wasn’t a patch of wetness in my knickers before, it has to have soaked through right now.

“No.” The word is so final, I don’t dare to ask why. “Do I have your consent to put it on?” The pulse between my legs quickens, and a pleasant shiver runs down my spine. This is just like the romance books. Better, because it’s real. “Please,” I reply.

“If I were to check your knickers, what would I find?” Heat rushes to my cheeks. I sputter before saying, “That’s different.” “Come here.” “But I said—” “Phoenix,” he says, his voice hardened with steel. “You will not speak without permission. Is that understood?”

throne. My muscles stiffen. What’s he going to do? Spank me? Slip his fingers into the lace of my underwear and prove me a liar? On legs that won’t stop trembling, I shuffle to the side, keeping my thighs together, so he can’t see any trace of my arousal. Professor Segul pulls me onto his spread legs, making me squeak. I end up lying on my stomach facing the floor with my ass in the air and my palms balancing on the wooden floorboards.

His fingers slip beneath the lace of my knickers and I cringe—not at his touch—my body welcomes it, but he’s about to catch me in a lie. He moves tortuously slowly as though drawing out the moment for maximum suspense. My skin tingles with anticipation. The muscles of my core clamp and spasm, desperate to be filled. I clench my teeth, wishing my body would understand he’s about to add to our punishment. Professor Segul’s fingers slide over my slippery folds, only for him to pause. “Miss Stahl?” Butterflies flutter in my stomach because even they know what will happen next. I whisper, “Yes, sir?” “Are you so wet from worshiping my feet?” “No,” I reply. “It was—” Slap.

Only he’s not spanking me but slipping those fingers back beneath the fabric of my knickers and caressing my swollen clit. The pleasure is exquisite after the searing pain, and my legs drift down to the floor. “Aaah!”

“I’m beginning to think you weren’t exaggerating about being a bratty sub,” he murmurs. “See how much you enjoy being punished.” “I don’t—” Slap! I raise my head and cry out as electricity zips up my core and settles in my needy clit. “Did I give you permission to speak?” he asks. I stifle a sob. He spanks me again. “I asked you a question.” My cheeks turn hot. I swallow hard and force back a retort. “No… Sir.”

I’ve already caught onto his game. The moment I apologize without being prompted, he’ll give me another spanking. Instead of speaking, I let my head flop down, and I part my thighs a little further to expose more of my pussy.

When his fingers resume their sweet caresses, my entire body relaxes once more. This is what I came for. Pleasure under the professor’s command. He rubs back and forth, back and forth, running his fingers up and down my sex, only pausing to circle my clit. I curl my toes and groan at the patience in his touch. Men my age would rub me fast and hard and raw until they’d desensitized the entire area. Not the professor, who knows exactly how to draw out my pleasure. I could enjoy a lifetime of this slow, ex...

“Good girls get pleasure, while bad ones get punishment,” he says with the same authority he used to deliver his first lecture. “Either way, you’ll come to crave my touch, beg for it, until every orgasm you experience will be bland unless it’s at my hand.”

He continues like this, each slap bringing a sting that ripples sensation to my clit until it becomes a beacon of need. Then after the pain comes the pleasure. I’m so close, my body teetering so near to the cusp of orgasm, that I’d withstand any amount of pain if he would let me climax. By the time he stops, my vision is a blur from tears, and I can barely think straight. I’m still on the brink of an orgasm and desperate for his touch. “Since you enjoy it so much, we’ll include foot worship in your training. I’ll teach you how to suck my toes.” I stifle a groan because he won’t believe me when I say I don’t like feet. I like him. Maybe not so much after the hard spanking, but I’ll get over it. “But first, you’re going to suck my cock.”

There’s only one thing more delightful than Phoenix’s ass, and that is Phoenix’s ass after I’ve spanked it a delectable shade of red. My handprints form two neat, oval patches that contrast with her pale skin. The overhead lighting only accentuates the artistic tableau. She lies across my lap, her limbs trembling and limp and splayed to showcase her glistening pussy. It takes every shred of willpower not to stick my fingers into that sweet cunt, not to feel those tight muscles close in around my digits as I imagine what they could do to my cock. This is her punishment, and I only gave just enough pleasure to train her to yearn for my touch. It’s working because she’s a moaning and quivering mess. “On your knees.” I release the forearm I rested on her lower back and recline on the leather throne. Phoenix doesn’t move. Instead, she groans with frustration, her ass swaying gently from side to side, the embodiment of temptation. My cock pulses at the display of neediness. “Is this your non-verbal way of saying you want to climax, Miss Stahl?” I ask, my lips curling into a smile. She nods, making a muffled sound. “You have my permission to speak.” “Please,” she whispers. “Use your words.”

“Please, I need your fingers,” she says through panting breaths. “I need you to make me cum.” My chest makes a satisfied thrum, because she’s exactly where I want her: humbled, desperate, needy. After today, I doubt she’ll ever dare to think she has the upper hand with me. I give her a gentle pat on her ass, my insides flaring at the heat radiating from her skin. “Get on your knees and earn it.” With another groan, she slides off my lap and drops down to kneel between my spread legs. She probably can’t sit on her haunches because of what I did to her ass, but she rests her forearms on my spread thighs. I allow it, because I’m magnanimous like that. Phoenix bows her head, lashes lowered, and I can only presume she’s staring at the cock straining in my leather pants. I make a note to wear something less restrictive the next time because I have never been as hard or as needy or as feral as I am right now with Phoenix.

“Get to work,” I say with a smirk. “And I’ll be grading you for technique.” She lurches forward, her fingers fumbling over the buttons of my leather jeans. Either she’s eager for my cock or she wants to get this over with so I can make her climax. Phoenix is about to discover she’s in for a long wait. The first button pops open, easing the pressure off my cockhead. I groan with relief as she releases the second, the third, and the fourth.

“It’s just so…” She pants through her parted lips. My brows rise in anticipation of how she’ll phrase the next part of her sentence. I never get tired of women’s rounded eyes the first time they see my cock. It’s longer than average but with extra girth. Back when I was an undergraduate, they used to call it the jawbreaker. “Yes?” I ask. “How am I going to fit that in my mouth?” “You’re a resourceful young woman,” I say with a smirk. “You’ll find a way to accommodate my girth.” She sucks in a noisy breath as though gathering her courage, and wraps her fingers around my shaft. At her touch, pleasure shimmers down my spine and tightens my balls, bringing up a bead of precum.

Phoenix glares at me with a scowl that says, now what? “Earn the right to suck my cock, and if you impress me enough, I’ll allow you to claim your reward.” I suppress my amusement at the disappointment flashing before her eyes. She whines in the back of her throat. “Do you have something to say, Miss Stahl?” I ask. “Can I at least touch myself?” “Absolutely not,” I reply, my words crisp. “Your pleasure belongs to me—whether you’re with me or not. What did I just say?” She lowers her lashes, squirms, and then gazes up at me with defiance. “No cumming without your permission, got it.”

I raise my hips off the throne, and she takes the cue to pull my leather jeans down my thighs. They drop to the floor, but I let them remain puddled at my feet. “The first lesson in fellatio is the build up,” I say in the voice I reserve for teaching. She meets my eyes for a moment before dropping her gaze down to my cock. It stiffens under her attention. “Run a trail up to my balls with your tongue.” She licks my inner thigh from my knees with a slow, measured slide that makes my breath quicken. As she reaches my balls, my lungs stall. Her fingers curl into my thighs, and she pushes them apart before placing a kiss on my right testicle. Pleasure coils in my gut, and I stifle a groan. Phoenix replaces her tongue with her fingertips and rubs gentle circles over my inner thighs that spread sensations across my nerves. Any tension I’ve been holding melts under her touch. My body has never been so sensitive. Her hot, wet tongue runs slow circles over my balls, and licks them like she’s savoring the taste. The little drop of precum doubles in size before rolling down my shaft. The anticipation is agonizing. I want to grab her by the hair and fuck the back of her throat until I explode in a blaze of glory, but I want to savor Phoenix a little longer before I get rough. “Good girl,” I murmur, making her breathe faster. “Now, run that pretty tongue up and down my shaft.” She obeys, and traces each prominent vein, then circles the thick ridge of my cock head with delicate strokes. ...

As she clamps her lips on the ridge of my glans, another bead of precum emerges from my slit. A sense of blind urgency creeps up on me—I need to be in her mouth. Not yet. “Dirty girl.” The words rumble from my chest. “You can’t get enough of my cock.” She nods and hums. “See how hard I am for you. How much my cock streams under your attention,” I growl. “Lap it up.”

With an enthusiastic hum, she runs her tongue back and forth over my slit, savoring the pearlescent fluid. A sensation like bolts of electricity surges down the root of my shaft, and charges up my balls. I have to breathe hard to stave off a climax. Fuck. She’s amazing. But I’m not about to spatter myself with cum. Not when I have Phoenix right in front of me. “Open wide and suck it,” I say. As she parts her lips, my lungs fall still. Anticipation makes me thrum the way it does when I’m about to make a kill. I inhale until the edges of my vision blur and only let out the breath when she fully engulfs my cock. My lips part with a silent gasp. Fuck. Her mouth is hot and wet and tight. She closes in on me like a vise and slides her head all the way down until I feel the back of her throat. Phoenix’s hot breaths warm my pubes, but the feeling doesn’t last long as she pulls back. “Eyes on me.” I say. Her gaze snaps up to meet mine. In the playroom’s red light, her gray eyes look almost black, her lashes thick, but her beautiful face still radiates an innocence that’s at odds with the fact that she’s sucking my dick. It’s even more thrilling to know she’s my student. “Good girl,” I growl. “Such a pretty girl. You look perfect with your lips around my cock.” The noise she makes sends a jolt of ecstasy down my shaft. “Are you getting wetter for me?” I ask. When she nods, I thread my fingers through the silken strands of her hair and curl them to form a fist. As she bobs her head u...

“You’re sucking my cock so beautifully,” I say. “Just like I knew you would.” The possessive part of me wants to demand where she learned to suck cock with such dexterity and skill. The rest of me tells that part of my mind to fuck off and enjoy the ride. “Such an eager little slut.” I let her continue like this, and test her reactions with filthy words of encouragement. Contrary to what she said earlier, degradation doesn’t make her falter. “Look at you, sucking your professor like a well-practiced pro. Are you trying to get an A?” Phoenix makes an enthusiastic sound that vibrates over my cockhead. The fingers of one hand run back and forth along my inner thigh and the other massages my balls. She’s everywhere—around my cock, my sac, in my mind. I’m fucking losing myself to her. My back arches like the grip of a bow, and every nerve in my body pulls taut. I’m no longer in control of my own pleasure. At any moment, she’ll speed up, and I’ll shoot my ego down her throat. This blowjob has become a battle of wills, with Phoenix determined to make me climax at her command. I tighten my hold in her hair until she makes a pained sound, but even that vibrates along my cock and pushes me toward a climax. Fuck. She’s even better than I’d imagined. My grip strengthens, until she glares up at me, her eyes pained. “That’s it,” I say from between clenched teeth because even my vocal cords tremble. “Now, let’s test your gag reflex.”

“I’m going to use you hard and fast, and you’ll take it. Any problems, you tap the side of my leg. Understood?” She nods. I hold her head steady, thrust my hips, and fuck her throat with hard thrusts. She squeezes her eyes shut and splutters. “Breathe through your nose.” Phoenix nods, the choking subsiding. I move forward with another hard snap of my hips that makes her inhale sharply through her nostrils. “Look at me,” I hiss.

When she raises her gaze, her pretty eyes glisten. “Good girl,” I mutter. “You’re taking my cock so well.” She breathes loud and hard as tears slide down the side of her face. “You remember what to do if you’re struggling?” I say. She nods. I use her mouth and throat like she’s my own personal fucktoy, all the while fixing my gaze on her eyes. Her fingers tighten around my thighs, but as long as she doesn’t tap, I’m not slowing. Saliva streams down the sides of her lips as she completely loses control. I piston in and out of her mouth, shuddering each time she swallows. It’s the only thing she’s capable of in this state—that, and gripping onto me for balance. “Don’t move,” I say, even though the words are redundant. Phoenix and I will be locked in position until I’m satisfied. One of her hands leaves my hip. My jaw tightens as I wait for her to indicate she’s had enough. Instead of tapping, she cups my balls and squeezes. Fucking. Hell.

Stream after stream of hot fluid escapes my dick in bursts. Phoenix moans and groans and gulps but I can barely hear her over my gasping breaths. I’m cumming and cumming and cumming as though all the climaxes I’ve enjoyed while watching or talking or thinking about her have returned with a vengeance. My knees buckle and only the strength of my leg muscles keep me upright.

As the orgasm fades, she gazes up at me, her eyes unfocused, my cum dribbling down the sides of her mouth. “Now, may I cum?” she asks. Phoenix spoke without permission. I can’t let that go unpunished, but I also don’t want to crush that little spirit of rebellion that gave me the best orgasm I’ve had in years. “Let’s move onto the examination chair,” I say between ragged breaths. “I want to test your responses.”

My throat is raw. My jaw aches. But it’s nothing compared to my pussy’s throbbing need. My clit is so hot, so swollen, and so desperate that the sensation borders on pain. He didn’t let me play with myself during the blow job, yet the feel of that huge dick in my mouth aroused me beyond reason. I swirl my tongue around my mouth, chasing his bitter taste, and make a note not to let him cum too deeply down my throat. Next time, I want to savor his cock. “You will learn soon not to speak without permission.” His sharp voice cuts through my musings. Blinking, I snap my gaze back up to the professor. He’s already standing, with his leather pants back in place, looking so composed that I’m beginning to wonder if that blow job was a figment of my imagination.

“Any last words before we begin, Miss Stahl?” he asks. A shiver runs down my spine. I try not to react when it goes straight to my hungry core. Despite my efforts, I blurt, “When do I get to cum?” The smile he gives me is so unhinged that my stomach plummets to the floorboards. Instead of speaking, Professor Segul strides across the room, leaving me sitting on the floor like a broken doll. I turn around, watching him stop at the piece of leather furniture that reminds me of a gynecologist’s chair. It inclines backward, with stirrups on either side and a low stool for the doctor to sit while he performs his examination.

Professor Segul stands behind it and places both hands on the backrest. “You’re going to sit here, and I’ll secure your arms and legs with these leather cuffs. Then I’ll test your responses to a few toys. Understood?” Heat rushes between my legs, and my heart skips in anticipation. He’s going to return the favor. But will he tie me to that contraption and tease me with his dildos and tongue until my eyes roll to the back of my head? “Sounds good.” I place my hand on the throne’s seat and push myself up. “Crawl,” he says, his words as cool as a breeze. My lips pinch together into a tight line. I would gripe about the humiliation of writhing about on all fours, but that would only jeopardize my orgasm. I move toward him on my hands and knees, my skin itching. My breasts spill out of my bra, and my clit is so engorged that it rubs against the fabric of my knickers.

“Yes, sir,” I say, my voice breathy with excitement. Next, he parts my thighs, putting my left leg in a stirrup, then my right. Then he tugs at some leather fastenings that secure me at the thighs and knees and ankles.

but maybe it’s the thought of lying there helpless while he devours my pussy?

He walks around the back of the chair and pulls a crank. With jerking movements, the stirrups part further and further and further, widening my legs until my thighs ache.

“Always remember that the amber safeword is an option. Use it, and I’ll slow down and check in with you.” I whimper, every inch of my skin tingling in anticipation, but when my clit continues to rub against my knickers, I realize his mistake. The professor strides back to the throne and bends to pick up the wine bottle from earlier. My brows furrow. How on earth will I get cunnilingus if I’m covered in all that fabric? “Sir?” I say, my voice breathy. He turns around, giving me a stare so hard that I flinch. “The only time you speak is when spoken to or if you need to exercise your safe word. One more unauthorized uttering from you, and I’ll use the gag.”

“I made a few purchases from the Red Room last Saturday, thinking how much you’d enjoy these toys.” He chuckles. “I’m looking forward to seeing how prettily you beg for release.” Craning my neck, I glance around to see what he’s doing but all I catch are glimpses of metal. The lining of my stomach trembles. What the hell? I thought he was going to use a vibrator.

He whirls around, holding what I can only describe as a psychotic pinwheel. No, it’s a circular scalpel, but instead of a blade, it’s covered in over a dozen sharp pins. “Yes?” he replies with a tiny smile. I notice three important things at once. One, there’s a bulge in his pants that indicates he’s about to do something he enjoys more than getting his cock sucked. Two, in his other hand, he’s holding something that looks like a miniature rake. Three, he’s no longer chastising me for speaking without permission. Sweat breaks out across my skin, and every nerve ending tingles with trepidation. My pussy, which hasn’t yet gotten the message, clenches with need. It all makes sense. Why would the professor concern himself with trivial things like talking out of turn when he’s about to—

“Do you wish to exercise your safe word, Miss Stahl?” he asks, his words laced with amusement. “Would it make a difference?” My voice rises an octave. “You are free to end this at any time, but that means leaving here without your orgasm.”

He flicks the knife open with a snick that makes me flinch. My clit, however, pulses as though it’s about to get a treat. I would squeeze my thighs together, but I can’t because of the restraints.

“This is a clit tickler,” he says. My eyes widen. “It’s also extremely effective on the breasts. Would you like to try it?” “Yes,” I whisper. He runs the blunt tines along my inner thigh. “How is it?” Pleasure skitters up my nerves like static electricity and gathers in my clit. I clench my teeth, trying to hold back a moan, but it just resounds in my chest. “Alright,” I squeak, looking forward to feeling it somewhere other than my thigh. “I give you permission to whine and beg and plead to your heart’s content,” he says with a smirk.

this out. “Wait,” I say, my voice breathy. “Aren’t you going to use that thing on my clit?”

He’s training me to enjoy his touch—maybe it’s time I trained him to enjoy giving me pleasure. He slides the ticker up and down my inner thighs. Each time he gets even close to my sex, it clenches. “How is that?” he asks. I inhale a sharp breath into my nostrils and force my voice not to betray my excitement. “It’s alright.” Then he rakes it across my fabric-covered pussy. “And this?” “Oh,” I blurt. “N-not bad.”

His eyes flash with a challenge, and he runs the tickler from one side of my pussy to the other. It slows over my clit, unleashing mayhem. They’re like little metallic fingers stroking that sensitive bundle of nerves, igniting lines of dynamite along each axon before they meet in my core and explode. My thighs want to clamp together, but the stirrups spread me open. I want to howl at the pleasure, but I’m too stubborn. This time, he positions the tickler on my mound, inches above my covered clit. He pauses to meet my eyes with a penetrating stare that tells me he’s analyzing my every response. With the gentlest of movements, he slides the metal implement down the fabric. I can barely feel the pressure but it’s a ghost of a tickle that spreads tendrils of sensation across my skin.

I close my eyes because I don’t want to look at him when that thing reaches my clit. “Eyes on me.” He pauses the tickler. My eyes open, and a breath stalls in my throat. Once he’s satisfied that he’s captured all my attention, he slides the tickler down. I had no idea a man could be so measured in his movements, but a jolt of pleasure strikes the base of my clit. Imaginary forks of lightning zip across the surrounding flesh and travel as far as my back. Arching in the chair, I gasp as the metal tines make t...

“Yeah,” I say, trying not to hyperventilate. “But it’s a bit subtle.” His eyes flash, and the tickler reaches the apex of my clit.

“How is it, now?” he asks, his voice wavering with mirth. “Maybe try it again?” My voice trembles. He doesn’t react. Instead, he completes the slow path down to the base of my clothed clit and down my inner and outer lips, where the pleasure is less intense. “Hmmm...” he says with the curiosity of a scientist. “If the tickler doesn’t satisfy then perhaps we can move to the Wartenberg wheel.” Before I can ask what he’s talking about, he picks up the implement with the spikes. Shit.