Graduate Studies

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Graduate Studies

“Fuck!” Lyra yelled as she furiously back spaced the entire opening sentence of her Art History thesis. Once she realized everyone at the café was looking at her, she visibly blushed and lowered her head a little. She hated people watching her, but this was so infuriating. Lyra had been working on this project all year, she had all her research, references, source material and notes organized. Now that it came time to put it all together, she couldn’t even get past how to phrase the opening line of her Thesis Statement. She even noticed her backspace button was becoming faded; she bit her lip and groaned quietly. At twenty-five and already having completed her BA, she was no stranger to writing papers, in fact she excelled at it. She just couldn’t understand why it was happening now.

She sipped her hazelnut latte and sighed. Maybe it was the smell of all the pumpkin spice lattes all over the place that was distracting her. She hated pumpkin spice. It’s not the fucking pumpkin spice dumbass, she scolded herself internally. She began to let her mind wander.

She enjoyed her undergrad years. She thrived as a college student and still managed to have fun. Sure there was cram nights, nerves, and anxiety, but she always would unwind somehow. Be it with a party, some drinking, or some sexy fun with various friends with benefits. Her roommate was a prude and would always try to make Lyra feel bad about her promiscuity, but Lyra didn’t care. She planned on enjoying life and not live by anyone else’s standards.

Now, in graduate school, adulting seemed like serious business. She wasn’t living in a dorm, she had an apartment. She also worked at the same time she was attending grad school. She had zero time to unwind. Parties? Forget it. Drinking? Maybe a glass of wine here and there, but she had to get up every morning for some kind of responsibility. Sex? She was beginning to think she forgot what sex was.

She put her head in her hands and stared at the blank screen. Then she heard a voice.

“Lyra? Is that you?”

Lyra spun her head around. Just past the entrance to the café stood her Freshman Art History Professor, Professor Malcolm. She froze for a moment then stuttered, “Um, no, I mean yes. Professor Malcolm?”

Professor Malcolm chuckled and came to her table. “I certainly hope so. Do you mind if I sit?”

Lyra froze again for a moment then hurriedly cleared off the other chair of her bookbag and purse. “Yes, yes of course! It’s been so long!” Lyra watched him smile and sit on the chair. It was really him, Professor Malcolm.

Professor Octavian Malcolm, in Lyra’s mind, was the one teacher that motivated her more than anyone to not only succeed, but also take her Art History education all the way. He inspired her in so many ways, intellectually, motivationally, it didn’t hurt she always though he was hot as hell and also almost 20 years older than her. She can remember many a fond night masturbating to his vision or fantasizing whoever she was fucking at the time was him. She would imagine his thick, but not overly muscled, physique on top of her, holding her down, and unable to resist him as he fucked her senseless. She squirmed in her seat a little at the reimagined thought.

Professor Malcolm sat down and put his keys on the table. Lyra noticed the bright gold skeleton key that she remembered him always having on his keychain. The keychain was also unique. It had a leather tasseled portion and two fuzzy balls.  It stood out so much she could never forget it.

“So how have you been, what are you up to?” He said in his sing song voice Lyra always adored.

Lyra snapped out of her reminiscing and realized her cheeks were warm. “I’ve uh, it’s been great! I’m in grad school now and currently working on my thesis in Art History. Well trying to at least.” She blushed at her own self-doubt. She though she left that behind after Freshman year.

Professor Malcolm leaned his elbows on the table top and caught the attention of a waitress. “Pumpkin spice skim latte please. Thanks.” He turned to Lyra again. “Trying to? Oh come now Lyra, I find that hard to believe, but I am thrilled you decided to continue your studies in Art History!”

Lyra stared at him for a second. He ordered pumpkin spice. He’s lucky I like him. She thought. She quickly shook herself out of the thought and smiled. “After your class, I fell in love with Art more than I ever had before. I truly believe it is my calling. If I can get passed this damn thesis.  It’s different now. I don’t know, with you, I always seemed to be focused and intent on impressing you. Lyra immediately froze again realizing how she worded that. Impress him? You fucking idiot why did you say that?”

Professor Malcolm chuckled as the waitress brought him his coffee. “Impress me? That was hardly necessary, your work spoke for itself regardless of who was teaching you. I am of the belief you could easily handle this thesis in the same manner you have handled everything thrown at you during your academic career, flawlessly. Everything about has always been that way.”

Lyra was sure she was visibly blushing now. He just said everything about me is flawless. Oh my god. She thought to herself. She tried to hide her blush with her coffee cup while taking a sip. “Thank you Professor, that means a lot to me.” She said after putting the cup down. What he didn’t know is her panties were getting uncomfortably wet. She realized it had been way too long she thought about sex and his very presence was making her body react on its own. His praise made it even more exasperated.

He smiled in his delightfully crooked fashion, showing his dimples more. “Do you come here often? This is like my regular spot. I’ve never seen you here before.”

“It’s my first time here. My new apartment is a few blocks away, so after my move I needed a new spot. Found this one and here I am.” Lyra squirmed in her chair, the wetness in her pants becoming far too noticeable for her. This was insane, sure she’s gotten worked up before, but it’s never happened from just a general conversation, and she had many with Professor Malcolm during her years at undergrad.

“Ah, makes sense. Guess we’re neighbors now! This place is a home away from home for me. SO many good memories at this café.” He said wistfully.

Lyra cocked her head at his statement. It’s just a coffee shop, what does he mean? She wanted to ask him, but instead turned the conversation back to her thesis.

“Maybe you could help me with this thesis. My thesis question is ‘Why is nude depictions in canvas and sculpture revered, but villainized in motion pictures?’”

“That’s a great question, and one that should be posed and on display. I prefer just about everything I handle on display for all to see. I feel it provokes an honestly in the work, and the presenter.” He smiled broadly, his teeth showing and dimples oh so present.

Lyra moaned internally. She doesn’t get signals wrong usually, and this discussion with Professor Malcolm felt much more intimate and innuendo filled than any previous discussions, and she was not upset about that. She decided it was time to test the waters and do a little flirting back. “So you like being in control of everything you handle?” Lyra bit her lip a little and gave her best ‘fuck me eyes’ she could muster. “I think that is a good way for an artist to wow his audience. What would you suggest?”

Professor Malcolm sat back and folded his arms. Lyra was sure she could make out a bulge in his pants starting to form. “Well, remember the project you did on MichelLyrao in my class?”

Lyra smiled and played with her hair. “You mean the oral presentation?” Lyra purposefully emphasized the word oral. She didn’t know if she sounded corny or like an idiot, but she was all in at this point.

“Yes, that exact one.” He smirked. “You came to me and were worried if it would be good enough. I told you once you present it, and are laid bare to the audience, you will find your power. Being vulnerable and exposed to an audience is incredibly motivating and can push you to limits you thought you could never surpass. I believe an experience like that can inspire you to complete this thesis.” Professor Malcolm put one hand on the table and rubbed the golden skeleton key on his keychain. “It is the key to everything.”

Lyra couldn’t take it anymore. Her panties were thoroughly soaked. She had been rubbing her thighs together the entire time making things worse. She had to know where this would go and she had to know now. She whispered in her most sultry voice. “And it seems you hold that key. I’m interested in finding out what it offers.”

Professor Malcolm’s eye shone in delight. He leaned forward and put his hand on top of hers. “What it offers is not for everyone, and it requires clear consent as it progresses. Is this something you want me to show you and are you prepared for something unconventional?”

Lyra’s thighs could not stop rubbing. She bit her lip and found it hard to speak, but she knew what her answer was, and she said it soft and huskily. “Yes.”

Professor Malcolm stood, and helped Lyra stand by gently pulling on her hand. He held it and walked her to the back of the café. There was a hallway that held two doors for the bathrooms, and a third, nondescript door with an old looking keyhole. He placed the skeleton key into the keyhole and turned it with an audible and chime like click. Lyra followed his lead into the dark room.

After a moment in darkness, she heard another click of the Professor flicking a light swtich. A soft glow of light filled the room, but only slightly. She saw a few rows of seats, almost like a tiny movie theater. Except where the screen would be, were just closed, red velvet curtains.           The Professor continued leading Lyra down the row of seats to the front of the room where another door stood next to the curtains. He unlocked that door with the same key and led her in.

This room was also dark, but soon the Professor flipped another switch and it lit up with a warm red glow. When her eyes adjusted, she could make out the room. Along the far side wall was a row of lockers. Along the back wall was a row of big hooks on the wall. Along the wall under the were various pieces of furniture, but not the typical kind. She saw a padded horse of some kind, a kneeling bench similar to prayer benches, a giant X made of wood with rings on it and some ordinary chairs. The wall on the same side of the door was a giant window, which she now saw the curtains on the other room were covering.

The Professor let go of her hand and pulled a chair to the center of the room and motioned for Lyra to sit. She sat down as he stood in front of her. She noticed she wasn’t wrong about the bulge in his pants; it was very apparent now. She bit her lip hard and inhaled sharply. She had no idea what to expect or what would happen next. Although not versed in kink, she was sure those pieces of furniture were implements used in the kinky and underground world of BDSM. She was scared and excited at the same time. She noticed the hairs on the back of her neck stood up in fear, but her panties were utterly destroyed with her wetness and was going through her jeans as well.

The Professor lifted Lyra’s chin so she was looking up at him, then he placed his hands on his hips. “I want to begin with extremely important information. You are free to leave this room at any time should you become uncomfortable or decide you do not want to continue for any reason. Ultimately you are in control of what happens or doesn’t happen. Do you understand that? And please respond with your voice, not a nod or shake of your head.”

Lyra’s excitement and anxiousness grew. “Yes.” She replied confidently.

“Good. Remember that. Second, there are words called safe words, that are specifically used for this kind of activity. The type of words can vary person to person, but I have a specific set that I use consistently. They are very simple. If at any point you want anything I am doing or having you do to immediately stop, say the word RED. Do not fear using this. You will not upset me, irritate me, or bother me in anyway. This is your power word. It controls me completely. If at any point you want to pause, to ask a question or voice a concern, say the word YELLOW. I will stop what is happening at the point and listen to what you need to say and you can determine if you wish to continue or not. Is this understood? Repeat the words back to me and their usage please.”

This is really happening. I can’t believe this. Lyra thought. The through did not give her pause. She was not yet sure if she was going to enjoy or handle whatever was going to happen, but she was sure she wanted to try it with this man. “Yes, I understand. Red means complete stop, yellow means pause. I control these words and their usage.” She hoped he didn’t mistake the shake in her voice for fear rather than the real reason, excited anticipation.

“Very good. Lastly, do you at this time give consent for me to have access to your vagina and/or mouth for the purposes of sexual acts? Be aware also, should I use my penis, I will be wearing a condom and during these acts I will use terms like slut and whore. The theme here revolves around embarrassment.”

Lyra gulped and she could feel her hands shaking. She gripped then tightly. “Yes!” She said, louder than she anticipated. She realized she was rubbing her thighs together again, and she noticed he saw it and his smile.

“Then it is time we begin.”  He had her stand up and moved the chair back to the wall. “Take off your clothes. Put them in the bin by the door, and come back to this spot after.”

She bit her lips and did as she was told. In the meantime, the Professor walked over to the locker and took out a hard suitcase from it and rolled it to the center of the room and watched her as she finished disrobing and deposited the clothes in the bin. When she came back to the original spot, she could feel the goosebumps all over her skin. She also realized this was the first time the lead up to taking her clothes off took this long, but conversely it is the fastest she’s ever taken them off for a man.

He walked around her, inspecting her nakedness. She could feel her juices making her inner thighs wet again. When he was behind her, she could feel his breath on her neck and she closed her eyes.

“I’m going to touch you now.” He said firmly. She sighed and nodded her head. She felt his hands first rub her exposed ass, then grab each cheek roughly. She let out a yip followed by a moan. His hands kneaded her ass coarsely, then gave it a smack. She jumped slightly and bit her lip. He came back around and knelt down by his suitcase.

He opened it up and pulled out some rope and showed it to her. “I am going to tie you to that cross back there. It is called a St. Andrews Cross. Your hands and ankles will be tied to each corner.” Not hearing a safe word, he went and dragged the cross behind Lyra. He proceeded to grab each appendage roughly and tied them to the cross with his rope. By the time he was done, Lyra was splayed out, bound to the cross unable to move. Her face was beat red at this point and her pussy was on fire.

He went back to his suitcase and pulled something else. He showed it to her. “Do you know what this is?”

She looked at it and squinted. “I think it’s a vibrator?”

He nodded. “Correct. It is called a Hitachi Magic Wand. Very intense and powerful. You are not to fight it. Let it do what it is meant to do and do not hold back your orgasm. Understood?”

Lyra bit her lip again. “Yes.” She quavered and whispered out.

“From now on, in this room, you will call me Sir. Yes, Sir.” He said flatly and firmly.

“Yes, Sir.” Lyra replied.

The Professor took out some more rope and put the Hitachi against her inner thigh, pushing the silicone head of it into her labia. She moaned audibly and it wasn’t even on yet. She could feel him tying the wand tightly to her thigh to where she could not pull away from it touching her wet cunt. She noticed him plug it into a small box with a dial, and plug that box into a wall socket. He then walked to the corner of the room and came with something else. An old, metal bucket. He placed this under her and vibrator. This confused her. She didn’t know what it was there for.

He then went to the far wall and pushed a button. She could see a faint yellow light from the other side of the curtain in the adjoining room. It was all coming together for her now. His innuendo about an audience and his handling of his work. She felt a wave of anxiety along with excitement. He stood before her once again and crossed his arms. “There is one last thing. Behind this curtain are people. People that are going to watch you cum, squirm, and do whatever I please with. They are your audience. They are what will make you shine. Are there any objections?”

Lyra head raced. Oh my god, I was right. There are going to be people watching! Seeing me naked, sprawled out for everyone to see. My quivering pussy, my facial expressions, everything. Her eyes darted back and forth a moment. All the while the Professor stood there patient and stoic as she processed this information. She felt a wave of panic. She wasn’t sure. “Will anyone enter this room?” She asked

“No one is allowed in here except you and me. I can assure you of that. By the time we leave, they will be all gone from the building entirely. You will not see any of them in the cafe, nor will they see you. The agreement with this facility and membership rules are, voyeurs are not allowed to frequent the establishment for any other reason than this and enter from a separate door.” He ended his statement and waited for her.

Lyra’s eyes darted around some more. “Will there be any cameras, phones, anything like that?” She said nervously.

He shook his head. “Any kind of photography or video is strictly prohibited. Voyeurs must leave their phones and empty their pockets before entering.”

Lyra breathed a sigh. All her important anxieties were covered, only one she had to getover was her dislike of being watched, especially this exposed, but that was something she wanted to overcome. Plus, the idea of her having no control of her made her pussy quiver. She made up her mind. “I am ready.”

The Professor nodded and pulled a chair in front of her. He then proceeded to his another button on the wall and the yellow light started flashing outside the curtain. He paused and looked at his watch for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, he looked up at her, and hit a third button. The curtains opened.

Lyra’s eye went wide. On the other side of the glass had to be about 25-30 people all seated looking at her. She began to squirm involuntarily, trying desperately to bring her legs closer together to hide her exposed and slick cunt. In her mind she pictured her labia were spread open and smiling at everyone like a big pink smiley face emoji. She began to breath heavily and her eyes went to the Professor. He walked over to her seeing her reaction and rubbed her cheek with his hand.

“Words?” He said softly.

Lyra’s breathing began to calm at his touch and she closed her eyes. The simultaneous emotions of fear and anxiety coupled with her heightened horniness and wanting of him battled in her mind, but she knew what she wanted. She shook her head. “No Sir, I am yours.”

He smiled and sat in the chair before her. Lifting up the box with the dial, he clicked a switch and turned the dial slightly. The vibrations hit her like a jolt and she tossed her head back and screamed. Lyra and never felt anything like this before in her life. She had owned and used many vibrators, but this, this was the mother of them all. It only took 10 seconds and her legs were shaking, only being held upright by the rope. Then she heard his voice.

“Lyra, my brilliant slut. Who is credited as the designer of the many statues which decorated the Parthenon?” He said in a monotone voice. From his suitcase he picked up some reading glasses and a clipboard and pen. He crossed his legs and continued looking at her.

Lyra’s head tilted up and looked at him. All the while the Hitachi was buzzing slowly, yet powerfully against her clit. What? How? I know this. Her mind raced, scrambling for the answer that would be easy at any other time, but the damn vibrator was still working it’s magic. She shouted out the first name that came to mind mingled with her moans. “Hes…Hesiod…huuuuh.”

The Professor shook his head in disappointment. “Incorrect Lyra. I’m disappointed.” He grabbed the dial and turned it all the way up. The vibrations coursed through Lyra’s clit like a lightning bolt. If there was such a thing as an orgasmic electric chair, this was it. He legs began shaking violently, straining against the rope, her hips desperately trying to get away from the intense sensation but also grinding against it. It only took about 15 seconds for her orgasm to begin to swell, feeling it at first deep in her belly. Then she felt something else. Oh god no, please, no. She knew this feeling, it only happened once and she was mortified, she was going to squirt. Her eyes, rolled back into their sockets and she moaned loudly. At the last moment she realized what the bucket was. Her ejaculate came flowing out of her violently and splashed loudly into the old metal bucket. Very loudly. She was crying in embarrassment, but it was the best damn orgasm she had ever had up to this point in her life. The Professor thankfully lowered the dial down to a bare minimum and she breathed ragged breaths.

The Professor wrote on the clipboard and spoke. “Try again Lyra.” He dialed it up a notch starting the cycle again.

Lyra began moaning again, but this time the answer was in her mind. She knew. “Phidiassssssss. Mmmmm, it’s Phidias, Sir.”

The Professor smile. “Correct! Let’s try another shall we?” He turned up the dial a little more and Lyra moaned loudly. “What artist was struck in the face with a mallet by an envious rival?”

Lyra gyrated with the vibrator, enjoying its comfortable speed and smiled. She knew this one because they were just talking about the artist in the café. “Mmm, Sir. That was Michelangelo.”

“That’s my good slut. Let’s make it a little harder shall we? What art movement was Yoko Ono associated with in the 60’s?” He said and watched her.

Lyra’s eyes opened. She was drawing a blank again. She looked past the Professor to try and concentrate, but her orgasm was building again. Upon looking up, she also realized people in the audience were not just watching anymore. She saw quite a few cocks being vigorously jerked. A couple a girls were kissing and fondling each other, and one man was giving another a blowjob. Her cunt twitched and she couldn’t think. They were masturbating to her body. Her anxiety came back again and the vibrator still hummed. She blurted out, “Futurism!”

The Professor shook his head again. She knew what was coming. He cranked the dial all the way up and her body involuntarily convulsed again with the full power of this wonderful and evil vibrator. It welled up inside her again, the fountainous expulsion of ejaculate splashed in the bucket again and she cried and moaned at the same time. He lowered the dial all the way down again. As humiliating and emotional as her squirting was, she found clarity after it. At that very moment she could see the word Fluxus in her mind. She weakly spoke it, her head rolled to the side, her hair wet with perspiration, “Fluxus, Sir. It is Fluxus.”

He smiled and wrote on his clipboard. After a moment he stood and took a bottle of water out of the locker and brought it to her lips. “Drink, we don’t want you to dehydrate.” Lyra’s eagerly gulped down the water and he petted her matted and wet hair. “Are you doing ok?” He asked. Lyra nodded and smiled.

The Professor moved away and grabbed something else from the back shadowy wall. We he came back she saw it was a step ladder about 3-4 feet high. She watched him as he started to remove his pants, then his underwear. She had been waiting for this since Freshman year. As he pulled them off, his cock flopped out hard and erect. He stroked it a few times and she bit her lip harder nearly making it bleed. He climbed up on the ladder until his cock was eye level to her. Without realizing it, she lunged her head forward to try and wrap her lips around it. He pulled back his hips and scolded her. She whined and he slap her mouth and face with it. She cummed again with the constant buzzing of the Hitachi, not the explosive forced orgasms of earlier, but a comforting, smooth orgasm she felt all over.

He smiled down at her and grabbed her hair. In one swift motion he parted her lips with his cock and shoved it deep into her throat making her gag. Holding there for a few seconds, her eyes began to water and he pulled back. She breathed heavily through her nose and began rocking her head back and forth to bring his hard dick back into her mouth. She slurped on it like it was her salvation, her sustenance. She opened her eyes and noticed the audience again. People were watching intently, still masturbating and full on fucking each other. Her anxiety rose again and she shut her eye briefly, but then she looked up at him, his face contorted in pleasure and her confidence rose. She eagerly swallowed his cock and made gagging sounds. Drool was running down her chin, but she didn’t care. She opened her mouth wider and tilted her head back so he could face fuck her as he pleased.

She hadn’t realized he had brought the control box with him, He began to steadily increase the vibration again. Lyra screamed between gags as her climax built up again. He pulled out of her mouth and began to jerk his hard dick furiously. Just as she felt her orgasm beginning to explode, he unloaded stream after stream of hot cum on her face and breasts. She was sure her screams from the orgasm could be heard out in the café, but she didn’t care anymore. She was in heaven.

 

ONE WEEK LATER

Lyra looked at her laptop screen and smiled. It was done. She completed the first draft of her thesis. All she had to do now was some editing and proof reading and a peer review or two. She couldn’t help herself and began to do a little chair dance and fist pumping in her computer chair. She took a sip of her wine and leaned back, satisfied.

Her cell phone buzzed and she picked it up and read the text that came through.

Prof:

Café. One hour. Don’t be late or else.

Lyra bit her lip and squealed. She had finished her thesis, but she had many, many more lessons to complete.

 

 

 

 

 

 

By | 2018-01-25T23:06:37+00:00 October 18th, 2017|BDSM, erotica, kink, writing|0 Comments

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