The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Do you like it when I call you Professor, sir?”

Natalie’s voice was breathy and high as her massive tits bounced up and down in my lap. Her hands were wrapped around them, barely controlling the perky teenage funbags, while her fingers sank into the tanned titflesh.

I was grateful for my above-average cock. Even though I was mostly disappearing between the plush globes with every thrust, my student would lower her head to flicker her pink tongue across the engorged mushroom head whenever it emerged.

“Fuck me…” was all I managed to groan.

Natalie gasped, tossing back her long brunette hair with its sexy blonde highlights. She bit her lower lip and her warm blue eyes blazed up into my face. “God, sir…” she groaned. She was panting, titfucking me with those perfect bouncy breasts and practically cumming from the privilege. “I love it when you tell me what to do.”

“Fuck…” I groaned again. My fingers scrabbled backward on the desk, rustling ungraded exams, and around my ankles my belt clinked against the floor. I was still in shock, my mind reeling at this bizarre situation.

Luckily, my rock hard length didn’t have to deal with problems like thinking. I was throbbing with lust and pleasure, the 19-year-old’s perfect tits squeezing around me like fuckable pillows. Her lovely face, with its all-American cheerleader wet dream smile, beamed up at me.

“Do you like fucking my titties?” she asked, her full mouth pink and wet. “Do you like using my body like a hot little bimbo slut?”

I swallowed. My voice felt frozen in my throat as it squeezed closed. I can’t be doing this, I tried to think. I have a girlfriend. I’m going to lose my job…

But Natalie’s blue eyes sparkled so bright and happy, wide and full of pleasure.

I nodded and grunted. “God yes.”

“Good…” The teenager’s eyes squeezed shut and her face glowed with a twisting contortion of pure bliss.

What—

And then she moaned, her tits slowing to a halt as they moved up and down my shaft, her fingers kneading into them, twisting and tugging at her nipples. Natalie pressed her thighs together beneath her plaid, schoolgirl skirt. “Ohmygawd…” she gasped.

I realized she was cumming. What the hell?

My cock throbbed at the sudden lack of sensation, and I let out a low, primal growl. I hadn’t even meant to do it, but Natalie’s blue eyes flashed open. “Oh, sir…” she murmured, releasing her bouncy breasts from around my cock and staring up into my face. “I’m sorry I got distracted.” Her slim hand reached out and circled around my girth.

She began to stroke, slowly. “Let me make it better…”

My student leaned forward and her eyes were still wide and blue as her pretty lips wrapped around my cock. She sucked, sliding slowly over the broad head.

Holyshit holyfuck ohmygod… My brain was going haywire. This was my first day on the job. I was supposed to be getting lost in the new school, barely tolerating it, hating my coworkers. Instead, I was up against my desk with—

Jesus…

Natalie had gently lowered her mouth onto my long, hard prick until I was nudging at the entrance to her throat. She looked up at me and then, ever so slowly, winked.

I grunted as she slid me easily into her throat and swallowed, squeezed around me.

I wondered if this was covered by the NDA.

Approximately 24 hours ago…

“And, of course, you’ll sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement.”

I blinked. “What?”

Joseph Clayton glanced up at me as he opened another manila folder. The principal of the Brighton Barnsworth Academy raised his eyebrows. He was a strikingly good-looking man, with strikingly well-groomed eyebrows. “You can’t be surprised?”

“Um…” I was caught off guard. “I mean… This is the first school I’ve been where teachers are required to sign an NDA.”

The other man gave me a brief glance up and down. His eyebrows lowered. “And how many schools have you been with, in the past?”

The information was in my resume, which he had obviously read when I came for my interview last month, but I knew he was asking just to make a point.

“Just the one, sir.” My voice was low.

“Chin up, Mitchell.” Principal Clayton leaned partway across the desk to give me a bracing clap on the shoulder. “And we don’t hold that one against you.”

My eyes were on the neat stacks of folders and papers on the principal’s desk. I couldn’t think about Denton. I wouldn’t think about Denton.

“You must understand,” he continued. “Here at the Academy we cater to the elite de la elite. The, ahem… daughters of moguls, industry leaders, presidents.” He emphasized the last with obvious pride. “It is important that we maintain total discretion. The NDA is simply a legal safeguard.”

I nodded slowly, glancing back up into his face. It was weird, but I wouldn’t make waves. I couldn’t make waves. I needed this job.

Joseph Clayton looked like an ancient Roman Senator. Or, at least, how I imagined a man of power and dignity and philosophy would look. He was giving me a smile and pushing a small stack of papers toward me. “Just sign here.” He gestured with a commanding finger.

I hesitated. Then I glanced around, reaching out searchingly.

“Here. Use mine.”

The fountain pen felt heavy and expensive in my hand. The ink flowed smoothly out onto the paper as I scratched my signature. It was a dark blue color.

“Congratulations, Mitchell,” Principal Clayton said. He nodded firmly, with a handsome smile. “Or should I say, Professor Sands, Department Head of Mathematics?”

I must say, it felt good to hear my job title. NDA or no, I thought. I might like it here.

I was reading in the living room of our apartment when Julia came home.

“Hey, baby!” Her voice was cheerful and I glanced up with a smile.

The door swung closed with a thud and she strode to the kitchen. I watched her. Her legs looked fantastic in a pair of light blue jeans and her long, dark hair was pulled back in a cute braid. There was only the counter separating the living room and kitchen, so I watched my girlfriend as she dumped a brown paper bag of groceries onto the table.

“Need any help?” I asked, after my brain had been able to absorb the image of her high, round breasts perfectly outlined by her tight black turtleneck sweater. I realized I’d pushed myself to my feet when I offered my services.

Julia turned and smiled. “Nope. That was it.” And then, “You were checking me out…” she accused.

I glanced back up to her eyes.

She was biting her lip mischievously.

I grinned, sheepish. “Guilty.”

My girlfriend’s teeth flashed in a smirk. “What a naughty boy…” But she said it in a way that sent a trickle of heat down my spine.

I felt myself grin back in anticipation. She’s in a good mood, I thought.

Julia approached, sidling around the counter and sashaying toward me. She wore a pair of dark ankle boots that gave her hips a sexy sway. Dark brown eyes stared into mine. The woman entered my personal space, lifting a hand to my chest and giving a gentle shove.

I took a halting, half-step back and bumped into the couch. I went down, falling heavily to the pillows.

Julia followed me.

I was grateful to whoever invented stretchy denim, because Julia straddled my hips no problem. Her hand came up to my chest and pressed me down, then her fingers twisted in my shirt and pulled me up into a hungry kiss.

She dropped me back down to the couch several seconds later and I took the chance to snatch my glasses off my face. I didn’t normally use them except for long stints of reading, but Julia had caught me wearing them. They were special order from a company out in Canada. I’d never seen anyone else wearing the style, but I got compliments all the time.

“Mmm…” she pouted cutely. “I liked those. They gave you a ‘sexy professor’ vibe.”

I snorted. “Right,” I agreed. “Girls can’t get enough of a guy in glasses.”

My hands circled around her hips and pulled her down into another kiss. My cock was throbbing, hard in my slacks. I hadn’t changed after my meeting, and so I was still wearing the starched white button down and dark blue pants that were part of my Brighton Barnsworth uniform.

Julia ground herself against my erection, a painfully pleasurable sensation. Her lips were hot and eager.

“God, Jules…” I gasped when our mouths parted. “I want you so much…”

“Mmm… Good, baby,” she murmured back. She knelt back across my hips and tugged the sweater over her head in one smooth movement. Her braid fell free, as did her globular tits, bouncing in a clingy sports bra.

My hands moved almost without a thought, rising and cupping them. I squeezed gently, almost reverently, and my girlfriend moaned. Julia loved when I played with her breasts. I pinched at her nipples through the thick fabric, teasing her.

“I want you too, Mitch…” Julia said it hungrily, kissing me again before swinging off of my hips. She stood and her fingers began to scrabble with the button and zipper of her jeans.

I pushed myself up into a sitting position and ripped hastily at my belt. My cock was hard and straining to get free, throbbing with lust. The thought of fucking my gorgeous girlfriend right here on the living room couch was almost unreal in its sex appeal.

I shoved my slacks down my legs while, in my peripheral vision, I watched Julia peel the jeans off her legs. “Jesus, Jules…” I moaned. “You’re so fucking hot…” My cock throbbed and pulsed as I tugged away my boxer briefs, springing free and swaying between my thighs.

Julia turned toward me, kicking the pants away and leaving herself bare but for her simple pink panties. She leaned in and kissed me, her hand stroking gently at my rigid pole. “I want you inside me, baby,” she panted. She pushed aside her panties and then guided me to her entrance.

I knew that with her hang ups, Julia would want to be in control, so I just relaxed and focused on the sensation of her hand on my needy cock. I groaned as she started to lower herself toward me, her outer folds welcoming the wide mushroom head of my manhood.

Then, suddenly, my girlfriend cried out softly in pain, her muscles hard and tight.

Crap, I thought. The lust in my belly froze cold. “Jules?” I asked. My hands were on her hips, steadying her as her face crumpled and she slowly pulled herself back onto the couch away from me.

It was a moment before she spoke, and I felt the cool air on my naked skin. I knew that I couldn’t push her, had to wait for her to answer.

“There was a car outside the hospital today,” she said finally. “It wasn’t his, but it looked like his. I thought it was, just for a minute…”

We’d been dating a year before Julia told me about Derick, her ex. Apparently he had been abusive, and then when she finally left him he’d stalked her for several months. She’d moved out here to get away from him, but it had been another year since she’d told me and Derick was still messing up my girlfriend.

“I could go down on you…” Julia was trying to sound eager, but I knew she was just offering to make up for disappointing me. The thought twisted my stomach.

Instead of saying anything, I just put an arm around her and kissed her temple. “Thank you, lover,” I murmured. “But I’m good.”

Occasionally Julia would come home like this, or I’d get back after work to find her all dolled up, waiting in bed wearing a lacy teddy and nothing else. She would work herself up into making another attempt, and then she would fail. Sex, when we had it, was a hurried affair. Usually we’d both had too much to drink. Most the time, especially when she was thinking too much, penetration was painful for my girlfriend.

I ordered myself not to complain. We had a perfect relationship.

Except for the sex, a small corner of my mind whined.

It was slowly driving me mad.

“So the final meeting went well?” Julia’s voice was quiet. “Everything ready for your first day tomorrow?”

I nodded. I tried to put on a cheerful smile, like my balls and the pit of my stomach weren’t tight and aching with pent up need. “I had to sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement,” I commented offhand. Too late, I wondered if the NDA prohibited me from talking about the NDA. I suppose maybe I should have read it more closely. Oh well, I was grateful to have a job at all after what happened.

Julia frowned thoughtfully. She reached out and retrieved her sweater from the arm of the chair, tugging it over her head. Her expression was calm and placid again by the time it emerged. “That makes sense though, doesn’t it?” she asked. “I mean, they’re private, and super high end. It’s probably just to make the parents happy.”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I agreed. “That’s what Principal Clayton said.”

My girlfriend nodded several more times. “I’m gonna make some food,” she told me, and pushed herself to her feet.

Dinner was probably delicious, but I barely tasted it. The combination of nerves about my upcoming first day and the ashen disappointment of frustrated lust meant my body was tense and jittery. I had trouble falling asleep that night, and I knew that Jules was tossing and turning over on her side of the bed.

When I finally woke up the next morning, I barely felt like I’d rested at all.

Approximately six hours ago…

It was my first day, but I didn’t have class until the afternoon and Principal Clayton had encouraged me to take the morning.

“I want you nice and rested and relaxed now that you’re here with us,” he’d told me with a friendly smile. He seemed to be the kind of man who did most everything in a friendly, relaxed way. There was nothing implying that he was at all sinister. But for some strange reason I had felt like he was sinister. Like his smile was genuine, only for an entirely different reason than I expected.

Maybe the NDA had just put me a little bit on edge.

I wasn’t sure why the Non-Disclosure Agreement was bugging me so much. I understood that the Brighton Barnsworth Academy was a private college, catering to a small number of exceedingly-wealthy patrons. And I understood that exceedingly-wealthy people often prefer discretion. I just wasn’t sure I understood what it was that the Academy might need to be so secretive about.

When I arrived just before noon, Joseph Clayton met me outside the front office to escort me to my classroom. He handed me a small key ring with two bronze keys. They were shiny in a worn, well-used way.

“Your office and your classroom,” he said. “Department heads get their own office, of course,” he added, though he’d never mentioned it before. “For study hall, tutoring, et cetera.” The athletic man strode purposively down the hallway, out into the central quad and toward the furthest building.

The tall, modern-looking blocks of glass and steel that housed classrooms and offices loomed on all sides. The quad was just a square of grass, bordered by a sidewalk and peppered with lovely wooden tables, chairs and umbrellas. The umbrellas were probably for show, because I couldn’t imagine the internal courtyard getting much sunlight with looming buildings on all sides.

He gestured as we went. “You remember everything from your tour, I hope,” he continued, over his shoulder. “But I must say that we recommend our teachers to stay in their classroom or office at all times.” He glanced back, as though it was important that I take him seriously. “You never know when a student might show up needing help.”

I chuckled nervously. “Not even for a bathroom break?”

Principal Clayton frowned thoughtfully at my poor joke. “Bathroom breaks are allowed,” he said. “The bathroom is just down the hall. But visits to other buildings? Not so much.”

I couldn’t tell if he was pulling my leg, but I figured it was best not to pester him with too many questions on my first day. I looked around. That’s the Biology and Chemistry building, next to us for convenience. And over there the History and English departments, with the Computer Science people, for some reason. And then Engineering all alone in one tall spire. To be clear, I hadn’t been inside any of the buildings. But they’d been pointed out to me when I was here for my tour and interview.

My boss used his own ring of keys to unlock the door to my building, and I wondered why the Mathematics Department was locked during school hours.

What a strange place… I mused when Principal Clayton finally delivered me to my office.

“Remember,” and the man looked very Roman Senatorial with his serious expression.

I was sitting down across the desk but I felt like he loomed over me.

“We overlooked the Denton incident for this. If you want us to continue overlooking it, then you’ll follow our rules. No straying from your office, classroom or restroom. You are here to teach and nothing more…” He looked especially grave when he said the last.

I swallowed and looked away.

“It may seem strange,” he continued. “And I don’t mean to sound overly harsh. But some very important and powerful people have entrusted us with their charges. We must be worthy of that trust by following specific procedures.”

I glanced up, nodded my understanding, and waited for him to leave.

After he nodded back, shook my hand one more time, and strode away down the hall, I checked the clock. I still had almost an hour before my first class, and my classroom was just across the narrow hallway. How would I fill the time?

I felt a sudden surge of rebelliousness, and an accompanying flutter in my stomach. My curiosity was always one of my most distinct traits. That’s why I loved mathematics, after all. In math I could be infinitely curious and there were always more questions to ask. I felt, as I walked around my desk to the door, that I was being presented with a strange puzzle. And I would get to the bottom of it.

The knob turned easily. I was almost surprised, like some tiny part of me had expected it to be locked. But I was just being paranoid. Man, that NDA really freaked you out, I commented inwardly.

The hallway outside my office was clean and carpeted, with white walls that seemed only slightly less glaring than sterile white. The floor was a dark tile, marble or something, very expensive. The doors were a dark wood, really rich, with big brass knobs and keyholes. I felt, I realized, like I was in a box made of ice. An igloo school. Or a chess board. An igloo board?

Weird, I told myself, and pushed the errant thought away.

I glanced left, then turned right and headed in the direction of the Bio and Chem building. If I remembered correctly, there was a covered walkway on the ground floor.

Down several flights of stairs — Principal Clayton hadn’t pointed out an elevator — and then across to the door. I pulled it open and crossed to the adjacent building. Then, I wondered why the Academy didn’t just invest in some card scanners, because the large glass door was locked.

I looked at both of my big brass keys on their tiny ring and knew they wouldn’t fit in the shiny steel lock mechanism. “I should just need a teacher pass,” I muttered. Turning, I skirted back around Mathematics and in a few moments I was facing the nearest door to English and History. And Computer Science, I added inwardly a beat later.

I shrugged. I was just exploring, one building was as good as any other. I knew that my key wouldn’t fit this door either, but when I yanked on the handle in frustration it swung open easily.

I blinked in surprise, then hurried furtively inside.

Instinctively, I had the feeling that I should not be here. There were the explicit instructions of my employer, of course. And there was the fact that the door to the other building had been sealed shut. But there was also the strange sensation I had when I entered the darkened interior.

There were no people.

The hallway stretched ahead, empty and silent, a practically perfect replica of the building I’d left. The doors on the left and right were the same dark wood, and the one difference was that these ones had windows set into the upper half.

I walked forward, glancing side to side until through the nearest door I began to hear something.

The room was dark, but there was actually a dull bluish glow coming through the glass pane of the window. I approached and glanced through, keeping as far out of sight as I could. Unfortunately, that meant all I could see was the front wall of what seemed to be a classroom. There was a giant projector screen rolled down in my view. On it, a man with glasses was standing in front of a spinning, glowing image of what looked like the solar system. I couldn’t tell, but it was dark with sparkling white lights and it was spinning at a strange pace. The strangest thing about it, though, was that the flat panes of the man’s glasses were also spiraling with the starry lights.

I watched for a moment, spacing out, but it was at an odd angle so I couldn’t really concentrate.

Then I blinked and realized that the man on the screen was speaking. He was saying something — the low bass of his voice through the door was the sound I’d heard— but it was too smooth and monotone for me to understand.

Then the man paused, as though waiting.

I held my breath. Had he stopped because he knew I was here? But that was a silly thing to think. The man was a video recording. Why was I being so childish? Then my train of thought was distracted.

Another murmur, this one a bit louder. Other voices were responding to the man on the screen. He’d been waiting for them, like one of those interactive television shows for kids.

Yes? That was what they’d seemed to say. Yes, something, I thought. But I hadn’t heard. This was the English and History building — and Computer Science — so I was wondering why an astronomy class would be taken here.

Then I shook my head, realizing that my knees were straining and I wasn’t sure how long I’d been standing in the darkened hallway. I didn’t have a watch, and I didn’t want to pull out my bright smartphone in the shadowy corridor to check the time, so I turned and sneaked furtively back to the exit. I was through the door in a flash and crossing the quad at a brisk walk. I eased through the door to my building and headed up the stairs.

I was most of the way down the normally-lighted hall to my office when I heard the sudden sound of shoes on the tiled floor behind me.

I froze.

Did someone see me? I asked myself. Then, I wondered why I was so nervous just to be walking around the building at my place of employment.

I turned, plastering what I hoped was an innocent look across my face.

Joseph Clayton was approaching me. He wore a neutral expression, so I had no idea what to expect.

“Out in the hallway, Professor Sands?” he asked. “Going somewhere?”

I breathed a massive, and internal, sigh of relief. So he hadn’t seen me. I shrugged, trying to seem relaxed. “Just had to take a trip to the restroom before class.”

The man stopped a few feet in front of me and then grinned. He winked conspiratorially. “Don’t be too nervous, Professor,” he counseled. “The girls may be intimidating, but just treat them as regular students.”

I nodded. “Did you come around just to check up on me?” I said it in a joking way, but I wondered if I imagined a slight tightening around the principal’s mouth.

“Just wanted to be sure you were ready for your first class,” the man said easily. He checked his wrist, where a watch the color of running mercury gleamed. “Just a couple of minutes to spare,” he said.

“Well then, sir,” I said, “let me get into my classroom and finish prep.”

Principal Clayton nodded, smiled warmly at me, and turned on his heel. “Swing by my office at the end of the day,” he called over his shoulder. “You can let me know if you have any questions after your first few classes.”

I jerked my head in agreement, realized he wasn’t looking, and called after him, “Yes, sir!”

But there was no acknowledgement before he turned the corner at the end of the long, white hallway and was gone.

I fished in my pocket for my ring of keys, opened my classroom and closed the door behind me. I frowned, then, glancing at the clock hanging over the whiteboard.

I had left my office just after noon. Was I to believe I’d been crouched outside a classroom watching the solar system for more than half an hour? Weird again, I thought, and busied myself with prepping for class.

I took a dry-erase marker and wrote “Professor Sands” on the board in neat, upright letters. Then, I stared at it.

I’m not old enough to be a professor, I thought. But I left it up there, because I could guess without being told that the Academy frowned on the idea of students calling Professors by their first name.

I glanced around, noting the simple, elegant setup.

The front of the classroom was dominated by the whiteboard and a plain, heavy desk of dark wood. Behind the desk was a rolling chair of rich leather. It was the kind of seat that I had seen by the dozens in computer labs at university, but this one had been upgraded with a heavy-duty frame and plush leather cushions. Across from the door, windows looked out several floors above the quad. There was a thick woven carpet on the floor, and maybe a dozen desks and chairs of matching wood filled the space. The desks weren’t in rows, but scattered with a careless artfulness.

I sat down in front of the whiteboard and kicked my feet up carelessly, laying one ankle over the other on top of the desk. They hit the floor an instant later when I remembered I needed to be way more professional on my first day. And then, “Shit!” With three minutes to go, I realized that I’d forgotten my lesson plan in my office. I hadn’t gone back since I snuck out almost an hour before.

I shoved myself up out of my chair and strode to the door.

Where are my students? I wondered as I tugged it open and swiftly crossed the corridor to my office. I glanced left and right, saw no one, and went in. I closed the door, sprang to the desk, and tugged open my messenger bag.

Useless notebook. Useless folder. Textbook. Here!

I clutched the thin sheaf of papers in my fist, yanked them free without ceremony and accidentally tipped my bag. Papers spilled across the desk and onto the floor. The thick brown textbook slid across the papers and then tumbled with a heavy thud onto the carpet.

I blinked in surprise, muttered a swift fuck and decided I could deal with that later. I glanced down to confirm that the thin stack of printer paper in my hands was marked with the neat notes for today’s class. I would be picking up where their last professor had left off, before his unfortunate illness.

The foundational steps into multivariable calculus. Perfect. I could handle this in my sleep.

I crossed the corridor, closing my office but leaving the door of the classroom open. I sat, skimmed over my lesson plan in a dozen seconds, and then paused. I resisted the urge to check my nonexistent watch, considered craning my neck to look at the clock behind me, and then tugged my phone from my back pocket instead.

12:59. I frowned, wondering where my students could be.

Then, at 1 o’clock precisely, like they’d been waiting just around the corner in the hallway, I heard the sounds of multiple footsteps. A second later, the low murmur of voices. And then—

I sat and stared, forced myself to blink and then hurriedly stood.

When Principal Clayton had described the girls as intimidating, I had assumed he meant in terms of their wealth and influence. I hadn’t expected him to mean physically intimidating.

Any one of the young women who entered my classroom could have been a supermodel.

I had to force myself to make eye contact with each one as they sashayed, pranced and glided into the room. It was the only way to keep myself from admiring a procession of perky breasts, bouncy asses and long legs. Normally, I would have no trouble with resisting the momentary urge to check out a woman. But I was just like any other red-blooded male. Some things I can’t help but appreciate.

To be fair, I was lost either way. It wasn’t just their bodies that were stunning. Sparkling eyes with long, luscious lashes batted back at me. Dark green, light hazel, molten chocolate brown, glowing blue…

Blue stopped, and one of the young women, a cute brunette with blonde highlights, stepped from the line and held out her hand.

“Professor,” she said smoothly. Her voice was surprisingly rich, and I realized she might only be a few years younger than me. “My name is Natalie. I just wanted to thank you for filling in on such short notice.”

“Of cou—, I mean… well, yes… You’re welcome.”

I released the younger woman’s hand a little too soon to be polite, but otherwise I was worried I would have held on too long, entranced by her bright blue gaze. I tried and failed to look around the room as Natalie stepped around the nearest desk and slid coolly into it. She was wearing a plaid, schoolgirl skirt that came to a stop several inches above her knees. Her white blouse had a broad collar and was open a single button at the top. It was perfectly appropriate school attire.

On her, it looked like a kinky roleplay outfit.

I forced myself to turn my gaze away and scan across my students. All of the desks were full, each one with a stunning, attentive young woman. Were the daughters to the wealthy and influential all born gorgeous?

Looking around, it seemed like they were.

“There aren’t any more desks, so I’ll skip calling roll and assume you’re all here.” The joke felt lame, but it landed to several appreciative, breathy chuckles. I wondered if I should know everyone’s names, but I figured that for now I should stick to something I was certain about.

Besides, Principal Clayton had pretty well discouraged fraternizing with my students.

You’re a teacher and nothing else, I reminded myself. “I’m, ahem… I’m Professor Sands. I’ll be picking up where your old teacher left off.” My chest eased as familiar words flowed. “Today, we’ll be reviewing…”

I turned toward the board and let the words tumble out.

They were easy words, math words. Nothing curious, strange or sinister here.

Math was safe.

“… so if we look at the angle here—”

“Professor?”

I glanced around, blinking free from my trance. I realized that Natalie’s hand was in the air.

I raised my eyebrows and she gave a sheepish smile. Her teeth flashed, white and perfect. It was a smile that implied she was blushing, but almost made me blush instead.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said. “But I had a question on the point you just made before…?”

I nodded, distracted by the way her mouth moved when she formed the words.

“So, you said that…” She asked her question, and I actually blinked in surprise.

It was a good one. Most students didn’t appreciate the subtlety between the two theorems I had just taught them, but Natalie had noticed it.

I gave a brief reply, then continued with the lecture.

And so class continued. I would speak for half a dozen minutes, Natalie would have several questions, and then I would be surprised by her insight. She seemed eager to learn, more eager than most students in a mathematics lecture, and her bright eyes seemed to pin me in place and draw out the answers from inside my mind. I knew it was wrong, but I realized that I had assumed that simply because Natalie was gorgeous she wasn’t smart.

I must say, it was a nice way to be proven wrong.

A soft, synthetic gong interrupted my train of thought. The sound seemed to penetrate the whole building, and then slowly faded out.

“Wha—?” I started to say, then I checked the clock.

2:20.

“Well, I guess that’s it for today.” I glanced back around. “Oh…”

Somehow, most of my class were already standing beside their desks. Handbags and backpacks were at the ready, papers and notebooks stowed.

That was quick. I raised a hand in an awkward wave. “Your homework for tomorrow is on the syllabus your old professor gave you. We’re moving pretty quickly, so we’ll likely be getting ahead of him soon. I’ll go in and change the syllabus by the time that happens.”

By the time I was done talking, there was only one young woman left in the room. It was Natalie, who was acting like she was taking notes all the way until the very end.

I raised my eyebrows at her when she glanced up, pencil still poised over the paper.

“Oh, are you done?” she laughed softly, easily. She flashed me a smile. “I think I was just super engrossed by your lesson. You’re a great teacher, Professor Sands.”

I swallowed. “Thank you, Natalie.”

The young woman was packed up and out in the next few moments, bouncing off down the hallway. “Thanks, Professor,” she called over her shoulder.

I ducked back into the doorway to stop myself from staring at her legs in that plaid skirt. I sat behind my desk for a second, taking a deep breath after my first class at the Brighton Barnsworth Academy.

Principal Clayton was right. Someone that whip smart and beautiful? Someone like that was very intimidating.

Like your girlfriend, the doctor, I thought. I purposefully forced my mind away from my student. Julia’s beautiful and smart, both. I nodded firmly, fixing her face in my mind and telling myself not to be so disloyal.

But no matter what, there’s always the sex problem… But, no. That was just a small part of my mind, easy to push aside.

I did a quick check on the roll sheet, just to satisfy my curiosity.

Natalie, the paper read. 19 years old. Third term. There was no last name. No way for me to identify who she was or who she might be related to. Or who it was that could afford to send her to an obscenely expensive private university in the City.

The question distracted my mind for a moment, but the thoughts of sex were almost impossible to push aside forever. Ten minutes later my next class began, and this set of young women was no less stunningly gorgeous than the first had been.

I remembered as I locked the door to my classroom that Principal Clayton had wanted me to swing by at the end of the day. I glanced left and right down the empty hall, and I realized I had no idea how to get to his office from here.

I sighed.

I would just have to go back to the Academy entrance and retrace the steps I’d taken to get to the main office. Back when I was here for my interviews. Have I really never been given a map? I thought. I scanned back pensively through my memory. I hadn’t.

Odd.

It was strange not to know the layout of my work. For example, I knew that somewhere in my building there must be an elevator. But my desire to arrive at the principal’s office promptly, without getting lost in dark hallways with locked doors, led me back to the stairs, down and across the quad, and into to the main lobby entrance. I had already explored enough for one day.

Principal Clayton was waiting there for me, leaning calmly against the pale wall in his trim grey suit.

I wondered for a brief moment where all the students were. This time of day at Denton the classrooms would be emptying, the hallways would be filling, and dozens of students would be milling around waiting to be picked up. But I wouldn’t think of Denton. It just made me too… I clenched my fists, then released them. Upset.

The principal was a welcome distraction. “Come!” he said, gesturing widely. He led me down toward his office, peppering me with questions. How was I liking my office? And the classroom had everything I needed? Were the students respectful? Was I finding it easy to pick up where my predecessor had left off?

I found myself sitting down in his office, barely remembering how we’d gotten there, and then I asked suddenly. “Where are all the students?”

“Pardon?”

I glanced up into his face and the principal seemed confused. “The students,” I repeated. “At the end of the day…” I trailed off and gestured vaguely. “Shouldn’t they be flooding the halls to head home?” I wondered, momentarily, what they would be going home to.

Mansions the size of city blocks? Gorgeous estates just outside of the City? I’d seen the tuition costs to attend the Academy. Astronomical.

“Oh the students.” He emphasized the word, strangely. “Don’t you remember?” Joseph Clayton gave me a look of puzzlement. “The Brighton Barnsworth Academy is, as of this year, entirely a boarding school.”

I blinked and shook my head.

“All of the students have gone back to their rooms.” The man’s voice was a little concerned, like I should have known.

Of course. I did hear something about that. “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “It must be my head still spinning from my first day.”

“No worries, Professor Sands.” The principal stood and I rose with him. He led me to the door and patted me on the back in a friendly way. “Here, would you like a mint? There you are. Enjoy. I’m glad you’re with us, Mitchell… I’m pleased to say that you seem to be fitting in very well here.”

Approximately 3 minutes ago…

I cursed softly when I got back to my office.

I’d forgotten that I’d left it a mess.

With a sigh, I set myself to the task of clearing it up. I stooped down and started to pick up papers, trying to pull them back into a pile before I realized that they were hopelessly disorganized.

Fantastic.

I groaned and got down on my hands and knees. If I bent over this stuff for more than a few minutes it would probably wreak havoc on my lower back. At least, that’s what Julia would tell me when I complained about it later.

I reached into my bag and tugged out the case containing my glasses. If I didn’t put them on, I’d be straining my eyes instead of my back. There were several dozen sheets here, many of them loose ideas and theorems I’d been playing with. If they were out of order, I’d have no easy way of connecting the dots later on.

I was probably halfway through the scattered papers when I got distracted by a half-finished idea that I’d noticed, mostly by accident. There was a pen in my hand, and I was on my hands and knees behind my desk. I was using the textbook as a table to scratch out some branching ideas.

There came a soft knocking sound, like someone was gently rapping on the open entrance. “Professor?”

“Yeah?” I called, then realized how undignified I must seem, crawling around on the floor.

“Professor Sands? Are you…?” I heard the click of high heels. “Behind the desk?”

“Yes, yes!” I said. I shoved myself back onto my heels and glanced up as I stood, abandoning my pen and work on the carpet.

Natalie stood in front of me. She was wearing the same outfit as before, only with the addition of a short navy jacket that accentuated her bust and flaring hips. I could only assume it was a personal fashion choice, because none of the other girls had been wearing that sort of school uniform. I was required to wear my dark suit for my role as teacher, but I hadn’t gotten the impression that the students had a particular dress code.

She was rummaging in her shoulder bag, looking for something. Her head was down.

“Natalie, hello,” I said. I focused very specifically on keeping my eyes above her shoulders.

“Yes, Professor Sands! Hi!” Her cheerful attitude seemed unchanged. I saw her mouth twitch into a grin of triumph, her hand dove into the bag and she pulled free a spiral notebook. “I had gotten started on the homework before class, but now that we’ve met in person I was hoping you could maybe help me with questions three and— Oh…”

The brief sigh of surprise was when she glanced toward me, the notebook swinging up in her hand. Her blue eyes met mine, and they were wide and deep. Her arm fell by her side. Her expression froze.

“Natalie?” I asked, confused.

Then, in a blink, her features smoothed and her lips turned up in a smile. It was like I’d imagined the moment of stunned stillness.

“Yes, sir…” she answered, and it was in the same low, rich voice that had struck me earlier.

I blinked. Suddenly, the young woman wasn’t looking at me with the same air of focused student attention. Her eyes were bright, and I saw them dart to my mouth and then back up to meet my gaze.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

“Very alright, sir,” Natalie murmured. “Professor.” Her lips wrapped around the word and then delivered it longingly, with a breathy sigh as her fingers loosened and the spiral notebook dropped quietly to the carpet.

I swallowed. I leaned down against the desk, hoping the wood would stabilize me. “But are you alright?” I asked again, dumbly. Students shouldn’t be looking at their teachers like that. And teachers shouldn’t be feeling what I was feeling, the prickling heat in my belly and the fog dropping over my brain as something primal started to take over.

Natalie was looking at me the way Jules looked at me when she was getting ready to play.

But it was an equation with only one solution. I shook my head. I had a girlfriend, and the thoughts I was having were wrong. “I’m sorry, Natalie, but I’m going to have to ask you to—”

“Shhh…” Natalie had pushed the door closed without looking away from my face, her free hand rising with a single finger to her lips in the universal sign to be silent. Her shoulder bag fell to the floor beside her notebook. She took several strides toward me on those athletic legs, and I stumbled back, past the desk.

Blood was flowing south, my mouth going dry and my brain going numb. My cock swelled, thick and throbbing, and I swallowed again uselessly. “But…”

Julia… My brain tried to call up an image of my girlfriend, but the small, sexually-ravenous part of my mind was taking control. My eyes locked on my student’s full, sexy mouth as she slowly parted her lips. She sucked her finger between them, her lips making a hot, perfect little ‘O’.

I groaned softly as her cheeks hollowed. My student was blowing her finger, staring right into my face.

Her cheeks were flushed and her blue gaze was wide and full of lust.

I had no idea why she was acting like this, but my own lust didn’t care. Unbridled, it roared through my body like a wildfire, the bulge of my thick manhood tenting the front of my slacks.

Natalie slowly slid her wet finger from her mouth, moaning ever so slightly as she did so. I swear a shiver of pleasure passed down her body. Her heated eyes slowly lowered down my body and zeroed in on the obvious erection barely contained by my zipper.

I almost choked. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t be just standing here, devouring one of my students with my eyes and sporting a blatant hard on.

“I’m sorr—” I started to stammer but Natalie took another step closer and I interrupted myself by closing my mouth and retreating a step. I bumped into my chair, spun with a soft yelp of surprise and flinched backwards into my desk. The wooden lip hit the backs of my legs and I half fell, scattering sheets as my hands dropped down to catch me. I might have cared about making another mess, except that now Natalie was shrugging out of the navy jacket and dropping that to the floor as well.

I tried to choke out a strangled, “Stop…” but my throat closed and all I managed was a tight, hissing sigh.

Natalie’s slim fingers were on the pale buttons of her white blouse, undoing them with easy familiarity. “Don’t worry, sir,” she murmured. She hadn’t looked up from the bulge between my thighs. “I’ll take care of you.” Her hands dropped and her blouse fell open.

She wasn’t wearing a bra.

I stared at them, her mouthwatering tits, high and round and bouncy, with hard pink nipples that begged for my fingers and tongue. My mouth, which had dried like a desert, began to salivate. But… I tried to think of the reason I couldn’t do this. Wait… But my cock was urgently needy and having a girlfriend seemed like an unreasonable excuse.

I was so busy staring that when Natalie stepped closer I was slow to react.

She pushed aside my chair and then suddenly leaned in close, her breath hot on my neck and her hand cupping my pulsing erection.

I sighed out a moan of bliss. Her hand felt heavenly, even though the fabric of my slacks. She squeezed, outlining my shaft with her fingers and stroking gently.

“I know what you want, sir,” she murmured. Her lips brushed against my throat, just under my chin. “Just like you taught me…”

I had no idea what she was talking about, but the parts of my brain that cared about things like logic and reasoning had disappeared. Somewhere far away, there was the clink of a belt being undone. Then, a long, slow, zippp and a blessed feeling of freedom.

I glanced down and realized that it was my belt that had come free and it was my zipper that slid down and away. My cock sprang up, straight and hard and swaying, as Natalie’s hands shoved at the waistband of my slacks and boxers.

Ohshit… I thought. Something was happening, but I felt like it was something I didn’t really need to worry about.

“Ohmygawd, sir,” Natalie moaned. She fell to her knees, staring at my prick like the throbbing red pole had stunned her into submission.

I couldn’t kid myself. At best, my equipment was a bit above average. But the way my student stared at my thick, drooping shaft made me feel like a king.

“Suck it.”

I don’t know where the words came from, but they were there in my mouth and my lips had spoken them. I sounded weak and uncertain to my own ears, but Natalie groaned and arched her back, her lips wet and parted in a gasp.

“Yes, sir.” Her hand wrapped around my bulging, throbbing cock.

She stroked, and it was like my body had never before been touched by a woman. I hissed out through clenched teeth as my fingers clutched helplessly at the desktop behind me. She leaned forward.

Holyfuck…

All the sexual cravings that had been built up, the guilty desires I’d never wanted to bother Julia about, were racing free. Natalie’s pink lips wrapped around the mushroom head of my manhood, her tongue twisting and lavishing me with attention.

I groaned, and the gorgeous schoolgirl at my feet groaned as well. While her mouth worked its way over the tip of my shaft, getting me nice and wet, one hand stroked the glistening saliva down my rock hard pole. I gasped and struggled to control myself, the sensations racing through my body like lightning shocks of pleasure.

Now she was wriggling her shoulders, shoving away the restrictive blouse and tossing it aside even while her mouth began to move up and down my cock. Her tits were brushing up against my legs and then she was rising up on her knees and wrapping the plush, bouncy pillows around my cock.

There was no way this was happening.

Ohfuck…

Natalie panted as she began to fuck me with her tits, letting out little cries of pleasure. “I know you said to suck you, sir,” she gasped. “But I’m such a hot, horny little whore that I couldn’t resist the urge to fuck you with my teenage titties.”

I swallowed. I couldn’t believe that she was apologizing. “No worries,” I grunted. My voice was hoarse and strained, but I swear she shivered at the sound of it.

“Thank you, sir,” she moaned. “Professor.”

The title thrummed through me, plucking at me like a chord on a harp. My cock disappeared between her bouncing tits, slippery from her mouth, and I grunted in response. My cock surged and I realized that precum was beading on the tip of my length. I swear I don’t have a thing for students, but somehow hearing my hot little slut… ahem, somehow hearing Natalie call me ‘Professor’ was a massive turn on.

“Mmm… Do you like it when I call you Professor, sir?”

I blinked.

Time sped up again.

Now…

My cock was sliding into Natalie’s throat and she was moaning with pleasure.

The gorgeous woman, naked except for the schoolgirl skirt, was writhing with bliss like she’d never wanted anything more than to have my girth stretching past her tonsils.

I pulled back and she gasped when I slid all the way free.

Her smoky eyes refocused enough to turn upward and look into my face. “Oh my god, Professor,” she murmured. Her mouth was wet and a line of saliva beaded on her bottom lip. She could barely keep her hands off of me, one hand already stroking at my thick, rigid shaft. “You have the most amazing cock I’ve ever tasted, and you know what a naughty little slut I am…”

She breathed out her words with a panting, wanton innocence that shouldn’t have turned me on more.

My cock pulsed and jetted out a dribble of precum. I had never been more turned on in my life.

My cum splashed on Natalie’s upturned cheek and her eyelids flickered with surprise. Then she slowly reached up with one hand, still stroking my aching manhood with the other. She took her index finger and gently scooped up the sticky stand of my essence.

My heart had frozen in my chest. She was mad. Julia had been mad the one time I’d accidentally spurted on her face. And Jules was a spitter, too, the few times she’d let me cum in her mouth.

Natalie, eyes smoldering, eased her finger between her lips. She swallowed.

My eyes bugged out of my head. She just—

Her thighs squeezed together and she came. And I may not be an expert on the female orgasm, but I recognize when a person loses control of her body. So I think it was a good one.

The gorgeous schoolgirl came like she’d been using a vibrator on her clit for the past hour. She came like every part of her body released at once, her muscles clenching and then relaxing in unison. Her breath became a low, panting cry of pleasure.

My body responded, my balls tightening and my cock throbbing with need. I wanted to wrap my hand around my shaft and jerk off onto her face, spraying my student’s mouth and cheeks and tits with my hot, sticky spunk.

But something stopped me.

“Finish me off.”

It was the second time I hadn’t expected to speak. But I had. And the effect was immediate.

Natalie’s eyes snapped back open, glowing with a fire of lust and purpose. They locked onto my cock and a purr rumbled through her chest. She uncurled like a stretching feline and her hand reached out.

She slowly stroked, crawling sinuously forward on her knees until she was plastered up against me, my drooping length hovering inches from her lips. “Let’s see what we can do about this big, hard boy…” she murmured. Her lips were pressed up to my hot, throbbing shaft and were sending shivers down my sensitive skin.

My toes curled.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

With a growl, I grabbed Natalie by the head and shoved my prick between those pink lips. “Ohfuckyeah…” I let out a groan and a tension in my chest eased. I hadn’t even noticed it was there. My fingers tangled in wavy locks of chestnut and blonde. Then I pulled the gorgeous student’s pretty face down onto my pole.

“Mmm…”

It was like my cock was sheathed in a molten second skin, hot and tight and squeezing and perfect.

Natalie gagged, then moaned, and I realized that one of her hands was pinching her nipples, tugging and kneading her tits.

It was so hot, the idea that this impossibly beautiful schoolgirl fantasy woman was getting off on the sensation of my cock fucking her face. I spurted a jet of cum before I could help myself, and I knew that it shot right out onto Natalie’s tongue.

The teen went wild. She groaned and her body arced like she’d just taken a long, thick dildo and shoved it in her needy pussy.

I blinked. Where were these thoughts coming from?

Then, Natalie leaned forward, sucking hard, moaning with bliss, and the question whipped away. My 19-year-old student was silently begging me to cum, begging for the taste of my seed on her tongue and in her body.

I couldn’t resist her.

I grunted as my cock twitched, and then a growl rumbled up from my chest as I came. My balls erupted, spraying the inside of Natalie’s mouth with my hot white essence.

She gulped desperately, one hand massaging my balls and egging me on.

I felt papers crumple in my curled fists and was vaguely aware of the office around us. But only vaguely. The lion’s share of my attention was on the hot, fabulous sensation as Natalie’s tongue flickered across the mushroom head of my length and she sucked me dry.

I gasped and then sagged against the desk as my body finally unclenched, my legs trembling. I couldn’t think of a time when I’d cum so hard. I took off my glasses and dropped them onto the tabletop so I could gently pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers.

What the hell? I thought. I groaned and then glanced down at Natalie.

The young woman was still trembling with the aftershocks of her own orgasm, blue eyes rolled back and hair tumbling over her shoulders.

I coughed, uncomfortable. “You should probably… go home.” I stumbled over the words. I didn’t know what to say, but felt that I should be saying something. I was the adult. Supposedly. “Or, ahem, to your rooms. Since I guess you’re staying here.”

Natalie blinked up at me. Her lips curved up into a lazy smile and she rose gracefully to her feet. Her heels brought her up on her toes, sticking her bouncy tits out like she was asking for my inspection.

“Whatever you say, Professor.” She took several slow breaths and glanced down at my mouth.

I think she wanted to kiss me, but I was suddenly uncertain. How had this happened? My cock drooped, satiated, and my brain started to function normally. This hadn’t really happened, right?

When I didn’t move, Natalie turned around. She bent at the waist to pick up her blouse, and my eyes were drawn to the curve of her bubble butt. She glanced over her shoulder at me, purred with pleasure, and slowly reached back to draw the skirt up her leg.

No panties.

I should have responded, should have told her off. But I couldn’t. My eyes were glued to her smooth, shaved snatch. She was glistening and drenched with arousal. I realized that sucking me off until I came down her throat was what had made her this wet and horny and needy. I wanted to hate myself for how much that thought turned me on.

“Anytime you want me, sir,” Natalie murmured. She stood, casting her hair away from her face. “Our secret.” Her rich whisper was a seductive promise. “I won’t let the other girls know.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. But then she bit her lip and batted her eyelashes at me in farewell, and by the time my brain was recovered she had picked up her shoulder bag and traipsed carelessly out and down the hallway.

I swallowed. Then I let out a sigh and shook my head suddenly. I must have been imagining—

I glanced down. My pants and belt were still around my ankles.

With hurried motions I bent and yanked my clothes back up my legs. Then, not satisfied, I began to clean my office. I knew that if I focused on the problem of my disorganized notes and papers then the other problem would fade away. Maybe I could just pretend it hadn’t happened.

I had picked up a couple more sheets before I noticed a notebook on the floor. It was under some of the things I’d accidentally shoved off the desk in the throes of passion.

I lifted it, and I glanced at the cover.

Natalie, it read in bold strokes of Sharpie.

I swore silently. It was the notebook she’d been carrying when she’d suddenly started to come onto me. My heart dropped. I would have to return this tomorrow.

Great.

I tucked the notebook into my leather messenger bag and fled, down long hallways and stairways and across the quad, until I reached the parking lot outside the Academy. My car was parked at the corner in a small, fenced parking lot. The roar of the City seemed alive and close after so long on my own, and that was when I realized the strangest thing I hadn’t noticed.

Aside from Joseph and the students, I hadn’t met a single living person all day.