Dear Sir: 1 Note

Please use the Dear Sir tag to see the previous installments of the story...

The List:
1 lab visit (15 minutes)
1 note on a quiz
3 minutes of un-allowed contact
3 classes per week x 4 weeks = 12 inappropriate outfits
5 after class attempts
1 final exam - inappropriate outfit and actions (3 hours)

1 unsolicited kiss to shoe
2 pleases
15 minutes of silence

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to be continued...

Dear Sir: The First 15 Minutes

Please use the Dear Sir tag to see the previous installments of the story...

The List:
1 lab visit (15 minutes)
1 note on a quiz
3 minutes of un-allowed contact
3 classes per week x 4 weeks = 12 inappropriate outfits
5 after class attempts
1 final exam - inappropriate outfit and actions (3 hours)

1 unsolicited kiss to shoe
2 pleases
15 minutes of silence

---

"I'd like to start paying now", she said again in that whisper that he felt this time almost as a caress.

"Fine", he said it like he could care less, on purpose. "Stand up, turn around and take off your scarf and coat. Hang them by the door. Then go bend over the side of the couch."
She moved to follow his instructions. As she removed the coat and scarf he saw she was in the same schoolgirl attire she had been torturing him with in class. A plaid skirt that hit at mid-thigh. Thigh high gray socks. The black mary janes. A tight white sweater with a deep v-neck, and clearly no bra underneath it either. She wasn't perfect by the standards of magazines, but she shone in his eyes. She worked out, was petite, and had just enough curve to her body. He could already imagining wrapping her hair around his fist to pull her head back... but he was getting ahead of himself. As she bent over the side of the couch, she placed her hands flat on the cushions like Maggie Gyllenhaal had on the desk in Secretary. It made him smile inwardly, and sent a dark thrill through a body already thrumming with dark, sensual tension. He stood up and went to hang up his own coat and scarf.

"The first thing on your list of things to pay me for is the 15 minute lab visit. So your first punishment will be 15 minutes. You can end this whenever you want, just tell me to stop. If you don't choose to stop this, then don't speak. If you have to make a sound, muffle it into the couch", as he finished his quiet speech, he opened the desk drawer and drew out a ruler. She seemed to want the traditional schoolgirl fantasy, and he didn't have any problem beginning there.

He walked over, and flipped her skirt up over her buttocks. She wasn't wearing anything underneath and her legs were pressed tightly together. "Naughty girl, this would have been easier for you if you'd been wearing something under here", he growled almost under his breath. He could see that she was taking quick, shallow breaths. He took a moment to admire her, she was quivering, she was beautiful. He made sure she could see the ruler out of the corner of her eye. He stroked it across her back, using it to make sure her hair blocked her view of him. She made a small sound. He smacked her lightly. She jumped in response, but didn't make a sound. He took a deep breathe to steady himself, but one wasn't enough. He couldn't believe he was going to do this, but it was too late to stop now. He made a promise to himself right then that he wouldn't lose control until she left, he reminded himself it was only 15 minutes (2 of which were already gone), and took a mental hold on himself. He caressed the round plump flesh of her buttocks, lifting them, then pulling them slightly apart, causing her to tense and quiver. Then he traced the ruler between them. He smacked one buttock with the ruler, watching a pink line appear on her skin where the side of it connected. Then he went for the other. He counted silently to 5 to himself between smacking her with the ruler. Soon her cheeks were a jumble of pink lines, and she had caught on to his rhythm. She alternately tightened and raised her ass to move toward and away from him and made small muffled sounds into the couch. It was intoxicating, he didn't want to stop. It was like watching her do some kind of private dance for him. He could also see that she was excited, between her legs had become to glisten in the half-light now. About 9 minutes had passed now. He had started very light with the ruler, knowing that 15 minutes for her first time was going to be difficult to do without really hurting her.

Time to change things up a bit. He kicked her legs apart, seeing the glistening curls with dewdrops of her arousal on them. So beautiful, golden. She was treasure, it made him ache fiercely and begin to fervently hope she managed through the list... He began to pinch and knead her abused flesh. He alternated smacks to each cheek with the pinches to the emerging welts, being sure to catch the bottom near her thigh which lifted her leg off the floor and raised her buttock enticingly. So lovely. Her muffled sounds had become sobs. Her thighs were wet now. He watched the clock carefully, and right at 15 minutes he stopped, flipper her skirt back down, and composed his expression.

He stepped away and went and sat behind his desk, where he marked the first item off the list.
"You can go now Lydia, you should probably take some pain reliever and rub something on that when you get home", he said quietly.
She stood slowly, clearly recovering and in pain. She kept her gaze on the floor.
"Is there anything you'd like to say to me?", he asked her quietly.

She looked up, smiling slightly, her face stained with tears. Then she whispered, "When's my next punishment, sir?"

to be continued...

Dear Sir: Acceptance of Terms

Please use the Dear Sir tag to see the previous installments of the story...

She was elated, soaring inside! He hadn't thrown her out of the office. She wiped the tears from her face, but was too nervous to do much else. She watched him silently as he went around behind the desk to face her. She didn't understand what was coming next, but patience and silence had paid off so far. She could be both, as long as he wanted her. She was content.

---

He sat down behind the desk, as Lydia wiped her face off and then curled up in the chair in the edge of the pool of light cast by his desk lamp. She seemed brighter than the light in the room. In the background classical music played - Tchaikovsky. He casually pulled a notepad out of the desk and grabbed a pen off the stack of term papers nearby.
"So, we have to make a list of your transgressions", he said quietly in his velvet voice that had a hint of anger and malice under it, "because you're going to have to pay for them before I do anything you want."
He began writing and didn't stop for awhile. Occasionally he'd glance at her, his expression saying nothing. Each time he did, he saw her downcast eyes, her face still shining with hope, she seemed entirely at ease and had said nothing yet. Finally he set down the pen. He placed the pad on her side of the desk, where she could read it.
"Here are the initial things you'll have to pay for, however I see fit. There are a few things you deserve rewards for as well, but I won't be giving you any rewards any time soon, I want to see if you can pay the price for what you're doing to me first", he said quietly, with steel in his voice. He was still angry, but more excited than he'd been in years.

The List:
1 lab visit (15 minutes)
1 note on a quiz
3 minutes of un-allowed contact
3 classes per week x 4 weeks = 12 inappropriate outfits
5 after class attempts
1 final exam - inappropriate outfit and actions (3 hours)

1 unsolicited kiss to shoe
2 pleases
15 minutes of silence

---

She took the list into her hand, and read it over, once very quickly. Then again, savoring it's contents. She was a little afraid, but also so excited! She felt her cheeks became flushed again, her breathing quicken, and her body which was already warm and languid with his acceptance of her presence also flushed. She smiled slightly up at him through her lashes, placing the list back on the desk.
"I accept your terms, sir", she whispered.

to be continued...

Dear Sir: The Code

Continued from Dear Sir: Part I & Flashes & Time Passes

Her hands were cold, her fingers quivering as she repeated the sequence of numbers to herself under her breath over and over again. She'd been imagining this for weeks now... thank heaven finals were over. She knew he'd be here grading, alone, and the light streaming under the lab door into the dark hall had the somersaults her stomach was doing speeding up. She leaned against the wall, her mind blank with the force of her nerves, her only thought reminding herself to breathe. She closed her eyes, breathed deeply and slowly, wiped her palms on her skirt, and reminded herself that this was the last time she'd put herself through this. If he still didn't want her after this she'd walk away and never take another of his classes again.

She moved to the door, one shaking finger poised over the keypad, hearing music coming softly from behind the door and hoping it would cover the sound of her entrance, she began to key in the code. A soft click, and she turned the knob....

-----

He stared at the paper in his hands without comprehension. Lydia. How was he supposed to grade this? Of course she'd chosen to write her final paper on the mysteries of attraction. He remembered the lecture she'd pulled the topic from, weeks past now. Evolutionary psychology. The day she'd come to this very lab and... best not to remember that encounter. As he read it he saw through to the thinly veiled argument for why her attraction to him was no fault of hers, and his to her the same. Such an appealing idea... blame it on your genes, evolution, things outside of your control. He slammed the pages aside as he felt the yearning for her rising again - it seemed relentless. As his body's reaction spun out of his control for what seemed the hundredth time over the last month, he felt the anger rising at the same time. The two were inextricably linked. Never in his life had anger and arousal been so entwined, in some ways he was angry at her but he knew he was actually angrier at his own lack of control. Why did this girl have this effect? He stood up abruptly, planning to head outside into the cold for a short walk to clear his head and hopefully take care of the... other problems. He pushed her paper to the bottom of the pile and angrily grabbed his jacket and scarf off the back of the chair and began to put them on. So his back was to the door as she came in.

After two steps his downcast eyes registered the black mary jane heels at the bottom of the athletic legs in thigh-high socks that were between him and the door. He stopped abruptly, looking up to Lydia's face. She was crying silently, her hands clasped so tightly together before her green wool pea coat that the edges of her fingers were white. She was so bright to his eyes, her pale blonde hair shining in this dark corner of the room, her eyes bright green though the pupil was ringed with hazel, her face a luminescent cream besides her bright pink cheeks - whether that was from the wind or if she was embarrassed he didn't know. For one moment he was awed by her, the next confused, and then he was completely furious.

He reached forward, grabbing her purple scarf and pulling her to within an inch of his face.
"What do you want?", he growled.
"You", she whispered, "please?"
He pushed her back into the door, harder than he'd intended, she let out a little gasp, but he didn't care. He held her there by the scarf at her throat at arm's length. She was breathing hard, looking at him without a trace of fear. She didn't try to reason with him, trotting out the normal excuses that she was over 18, wouldn't be his student as soon as he entered her grade into the system, or anything else that he expected. She just stood there under his vicious gaze, hoping. This was what he didn't know how to handle, this... and his reaction. He was lucky he had his coat on and the room was lit by nothing but the lamp, it hid the erection that had only intensified since she came into the room.

Lydia smiled tremulously, and brought her hand up to his fists, pushing them tighter against her throat.

Something in him broke. He'd have her, if she could handle the payment he wanted first. His eyes narrowed and he began to smile cruelly as he pulled her by the throat and then pushed her down into a chair.

to be continued...

Dear Sir: Time Passes

Continued from Dear Sir: Part I & Flashes

Hot water poured down her body, and she tasted salt on her lips. Silent hot tears of frustration squeezed out from underneath her eyelids to mingle with the shower water. The shower was the safest place to cry these tears. These tears that led to anger and confusion. She just knew that Dr. London was who she wanted to be with. How could he continue to ignore her? It wasn't that she thought she was irresistible or something, and she knew she was asking for the forbidden. Still, she just believed there was something between them. He had returned her quiz with the words she'd written cut off of the page. She hoped he'd kept them. Finally the tears tapered off and she lowered her arms to her sides from where she'd been bracing herself. She angrily applied body wash to her loofah and aggressively began scrubbing herself. He was avoiding her at school, for weeks now he'd evaded her every attempt to get a moment alone with him. Still, she felt him looking at her in class. She saw his eyes travel down her body of their own volition when he thought she wasn't looking. She imagined his gaze was hungry.

She'd make one more try before she'd write this off as her own foolish desires... desires that he didn't want to fulfill. It was time to use that code she'd so carefully watched him enter. One last plea, one last try. What would she do if he turned her away again? She threw the loofah away childishly, letting the water slough the lather from her skin. She would NOT think about that. He was who she wanted, and while she didn't deserve him... trying for what she wanted wasn't wrong was it? She wouldn't allow this to hurt him, so she decided it wasn't wrong in the least. With that renewed resolution the tension finally began to leave her shoulders, and the warm water began to make her think entirely different thoughts, as her hands slid down her now softened and warmed skin. She leaned back against the shower wall, opening her legs, parting herself with her fingers, a soft moan escaping her lips as she imagined dark eyes hungrily watching her.

----

He didn't know if she'd always dressed in the traditional schoolgirl style, maybe she had, but he hadn't noticed before. Now he could have drawn out every outfit she'd worn for the last three weeks. Skirts, tall socks, scarves, headbands, tailored shirts, sweaters, every little maddening detail. And when she sat at her desk, the skirts always rode up her pale thighs. She'd often gently but absently stroke her thigh with her hand under the desk while she dreamily stared at him from under her lashes. It was maddening. His body often threatened to betray his response to this knowledge... and he had been forced to take refuge behind the podium once. It was wreaking havoc on him. He knew she had been trying to get him alone too, but he only had to evade her another week and then through finals before he'd be free of temptation for the winter break. Though how he could stop waking up achingly hard (or worse, spent and sticky and needing to change his sheets - again) with dreams of long blond hair trapped in his fist and soft white thighs trapped beneath him, he didn't know....

to be continued...

Dear Sir: Flashes

Continued from Dear Sir: Part 1....

Never before had a weekend seemed so interminably long during the school year. She sat in her room at the vanity, gazing into the mirror at the bruises on her arms from where his fingers had gripped her. She deliberately pressed her own finger into the blackest spot, and gasped with a mixture of pain and pleasure, her other hand creeping under the hem of her robe....

---

He ran through the cold wind. Feet pounding the pavement, arms pumping at his sides, chest heaving. Running from his desires. Running from the feel of her arms beneath his hands, her chest against his leg. Running from the pulse of his body every single time he thought of the young fragile girl who had thrown herself at him... and somehow gotten under his skin. Running from the anger that rose at this fault within himself, he had easily turned down many inappropriate advances before. Running: harder, faster, farther.... and finally standing under a cold shower but still with a hard, throbbing cock that almost seemed to pulse along with the words that kept repeating in a soft, implacable whisper in his mind: I want you, and I hope by the time you read this you'll have decided to have me...

to be continued....

Dear Sir: Part 1

I'm intensely stressed and will be until the semester is over and possibly beyond.. that's not very far from now and that idea freaks me out at the moment. This is my most intense time of the year. So I'm going to spin out one of my favorite masturbation fantasies into a story to share with you... seems like a great stress reliever for me and maybe some fun for you too!

---

She sat in her seat, trying to look attentive, while in her mind she played over and over her plan to finally get her professor alone. He was standing in front of the class now, dark hair slightly disheveled and a tad shaggy, falling into his dark eyes. He impatiently raked it back as he finished making his point regarding… she glanced at the powerpoint presentation projected on the wall next to him, she really did need to start paying more attention before this next exam. Oh, he'd been discussing evolutionary aspects of psychology. Was it supposed to make her feel better that her attraction to him could be due to any number of things out of her control? Could it just be a reaction to his forearms being constantly exposed because he always had his dress shirts turned up to the elbow? Or maybe her body found his pheromones irresistible? Could it just be the traditionally masculine features of high cheekbones and a strong jawline, signs of virility in his muscular and tall physique, or could it be entirely different - that he fit every stereotype of a virile male she'd been exposed to growing up? Nature vs. nurture or a combination of both? What did it matter. All she knew was that she was going to push him to defy those social norms he himself had lectured her class on, and she desperately hoped he would choose to do so.

Even now she found herself highly aware of her body, as she always had been when she knew he was around. She'd seen him across campus when she was touring the college… and he'd starred in her own private fantasies ever since. She nearly didn't attend her first lecture as his student when she realized stood outside the classroom and saw him at the podium through the door. Never in her life had the sight of someone shaken her so deeply. She remembered how she had felt then, and every day she had been in this room since. It was as if her breasts were suddenly heavier, fuller. As if her body temperature had moved up 10 degrees, and between her legs was a constant hot pulse of longing. At the moment it felt as if her bra was too tight, her shirt too close to her overheated skin, her skirt both too much fabric and not enough to cover her at the moment… She always felt as if everyone had to see the changes that overtook her when she entered that room. Her skirt was the only fabric between her throbbing body and the rest of the world's gaze. That morning she had carefully chosen dark thigh high hose, a lace bra and garter belt set she had never before worn in front of another person, and deliberately left off any underwear underneath her traditional school girl skirt and button down shirt. It was all part of the plan.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, unbuttoning the top button of her shirt, then pulling her long blonde hair back into a ponytail, hoping to cool herself. Dr. London was about to hand out their quiz, and she felt herself quivering as he approached her. He handed her the sheaf of paper and she nervously took it, breathing a thank you as she glanced up at him furtively from under her lashes. He smiled at her, maybe to ease nerves he likely felt were due to the quiz.... her stomach fluttered as he moved away, attempting to capture the memory of that smile in her mind. Her classmate poked her, and she hastily handed the rest of the quizzes over, blushing furiously. She scanned the page, quickly answering the questions, then penciled at the bottom: I want you, and I hope by the time you read this you'll have decided to have me.

She knew he usually headed to his lab after class time, and as the students turned in their quizzes and left the room one by one she pretended to continue to struggle with the questions in order to remain until the end. Finally, the last student turned theirs in. Her legs felt weak, but she took a deep breathe and found her determination to go for exactly what she wanted and suffer whatever the consequences were of that choice. She stood up and headed to turn in her quiz.

"I didn't think that quiz was too difficult, Lydia, did you have enough time to finish it?", his rich voice poured over her, and it took her a moment to comprehend the words.
"No, um, yes, yes I had time to finish. Thank you.... I did have something I wanted to talk to you about though, something private, do you have some time now?" , she nervously said. Her stomach felt entirely full of butterflies, she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, and she prayed he wouldn't reject her request. She knew he had to have seen these signs before.
"Sure, I'm just heading to my lab if you'd like to follow me we can talk there.", he replied.
He seemed entirely unconcerned with her apparent nerves, and she felt a wave of accomplishment for going through with even this little bit of her plan. He gathered the quizzes and they headed out of the classroom together. As they entered the hallway she felt like she'd never been in it before. He stopped in front of the lab door, and she covertly watched him enter the code to unlock the door, committing it to memory. Then he opened the door for her and ushered her inside. The room was small, with a couch on one wall, banks of file cabinets, a long table with several computers on it, and a desk in the center of the room flanked by several chairs. It was also dark, but clean. Dr. London swept in, turning on the lamp on the desk, making the entire rest of the room seem to recede and leaving only two chairs and the end of the desk in the spot of golden light.

"Sit down if you like, I'll just take a minute to get settled and then we can talk.", he said lightly as he dropped his bag to the floor and shuffled some items near one of the computers.
Her nerves were threatening to overwhelm her again, she could feel them rising, her palms sweating, she was frozen in place... He turned toward her finally and sat down next to a computer table, looking up at her questioningly.
"Dr. London, I.....", her voice faltered. The plan and speech she had agonized over for weeks now left her. She dropped gracefully to her knees before him, hands out imploringly, and felt a wave of assurance flow through her. She began to whisper, holding eye contact with him as she crept towards him across the floor, eventually ending with her arms wrapped around his calf.
"I want you. I don't deserve you. I'm sure you've been approached before, and I'm sorry for the position this puts you in. I have to ask, I have to try, because I need you in a way I don't understand. I need to be possessed by you. I just... I need."He stared down at her, his gaze unreadable, not touching her.
"No.", he said in a steely tone.
She sighed softly, still feeling that assurance that this was what she wanted and needed to be doing no matter what he said.
"Please?", she implored softly.
"No!", he said, beginning to sound angry, but still not touching her.
"I'll do whatever you want, however you want me to, I'll sign something legal, anything you want, but I can't accept no as an answer.", she responded, still in that soft and assured whispering tone.
He cocked his head at her, and smiled. This smile was new, it had a hint of cruelty that sent a thrill she didn't understand through her body. His smile broadened as he felt her shiver. He reached out finally from the death grip his hands had formed on the armrests and grabbed her, lifting her to her feet with a bruising grip on her arms as he stood. They were inches apart. Her breathing became shallow, she could feel heat radiating from him. His eyes were dark intense storm clouds she imagined were filled with desire, she refused to believe otherwise.
"Get out now.", he said in a low threatening voice that had a hint of a growl.
She withdrew, knelt quickly and kissed his shoe, then leaped to her feet and nearly ran out the door.

to be continued...