The Professor's Pet

September 1986-4

So finally Friday arrived. We had our first soccer game of the season on Saturday, so luckily practice Friday afternoon was limited to a quick run-through and then classroom discussion of tactics. We were free by five-thirty, and hungry as I was I remembered the doctor’s orders: no goddamn dinner. Perhaps she had something special in mind instead. Maybe she even wanted me to cook: demonstrate my culinary abilities. If so I couldn’t wait. Since fifteen I’d worked in a variety of restaurants, building up a bank account for college. Graduating from dishwashing quickly to cook, I’d displayed an impressive innate aptitude. I was particularly proud of my fettuccini alfredo. In any case, gladly bypassing the unbearably bland dining hall I raced straight home.

Perfect: the dorm was nearly deserted. Terrified of failing my new lover again, I was going to empty my balls for good and all before I arrived. One last time then I locked myself in, pulled myself out, fingered the mystical wonderful swatch of fabric in my left hand and wrapped my right around that grossly swollen pole. Sinking effortlessly into memories of earlier that week, I pictured that gloriously gorgeous older woman first coaxing me up, then taping me up, and then riding me like a mindless machine.

The intervening few minutes of panting and mechanics are of course boring to anyone who isn’t experiencing them. Let me leap ahead to that moment of cresting breath and boiling balls when climax is at last imminent. As I lay on my narrow dorm bed, legs spread and panties draped across my face, accelerating my fevered pumping, it was actually the memory of that unforgettable moment of raging hatred in my rider’s eyes, that disgust and contempt as I was suddenly spent, that pushed me over the edge. Then as I felt again each stinging slap, heard each word of that furious denunciation (“You bad, bad, naughty boy!) I groaned and pulled and felt my most emptying orgasm ever spurt up and out of my convulsing c**k. So powerful was my ejaculation that spatters of it even hit the underside of my chin. Yet still I blissfully worked it and worked it, pumping my slowly wilting self until every last vestige of sperm and sensation had left finally me.

For a bit then I lay there gasping in aftermath. Feeling for some reason as ashamed as I was sated, I tried half-heartedly to work this out. But then I just shrugged it off. I’d just had the best orgasm of my life – with the possible exception of my forbidden Tuesday spew – and I only had a minute or so to savor it.

And so I did. Good thing for me too: little did I know that it would be forever before I experienced another such orgasm. Then I looked at the clock, sighed, and tidied myself up. Quickly then I dumped a load of laundry in the wash – not forgetting the panties of course, and a generous splash of my roommate’s faggy fabric softener (something I’d heretofore scorned). Then while that churned I showered up.

I prepared for my date that night as assiduously as never before. I bathed impeccably, shaved precisely, again swiped some of my roommate’s aftershave (again I’d always scorned it), and dressed in my very best. Then I retrieved my laundry (surreptitiously pocketing the incriminating panties), locked my door behind me, and put my feet to the path I’d obsessively mapped out days ago.

The address I’d been given was more than two miles off campus – right on the Pacific coast as a matter of fact. But as a car-less, penniless freshman I had no choice but to walk, despite the curving roads and swelling hills I soon found myself following.

No matter. I was in great shape after all. After a week spent tirelessly mounting the stadium steps, I could manage a few hills. And I also had the thought of beautiful blonde p***y leading me on. Talk about a carrot on a stick! Despite my weariness and hunger, my steps ever quickened as I moved on and up. And then at last I turned around one final curve, and saw the address I’d been given engraved on a pair of gleaming marble gateposts flanking a pitch-black half-mile tarmac winding gracefully through immaculately manicured grounds toward a house straight out of a Dickens novel.

I said I was poor, didn’t I? That I’d needed a job and a soccer scholarship just to get into college? Seeing such unprecedented opulence I was utterly flabbergasted, and instinctively intimidated all over again. Still I swallowed hard, and followed that enticing carrot right up to the expansive porch and ornate front door. There I found a small card with an arrow and the words “Come around back” inscribed upon it.

I followed the arrow to a red-brick path bordered by begonias, and followed that around the immense mansion to a sprawling back patio that overlooked the Pacific.

Overlooked indeed: for a house in earthquake country, this place was clearly just asking for it. Perched on a cliff hundreds of meters above the ocean, the wide back deck featured not only a wet bar, sun awning and a scattering of furniture, but also the incredible weight of a kidney-shaped swimming pool complete with an adjacent Jacuzzi.

The sun was just beginning to set in incomprehensible splendor. But I had no trouble ignoring this (along with possible architectural deals with the devil) when I finally spotted my beautiful professor reclining in one of a number of minimalist black leather and stainless steel sling chairs.

She was as elegantly attired as ever. This time her filmy blouse was of pale blue, and her daringly slit skirt as black as ever. Her hair was drawn back into a severe bun, and the usual stiletto heels encased her feet. She was smoking and drinking: an ebony cigarette holder held some long slim blend, a pewter ashtray in the shape of the United States waited on the table beside her, and she was just setting a wine glass back down next to a nearly filled bottle and another completely full glass.

I paused then to let her notice me, which she eventually did. A smoking hot stare was then traded for a pointed glance at her watch.

“Seven…twenty-nine: right on time. Well done, boy. Come over here and have a drink.”

My heart pounding, and my d**k again twitching, I approached her. Fumbling the precious panties from my pocket as I went, I offered them along with my obsessively rehearsed greeting.

“Thank you for the invitation, Professor. I’m honored beyond belief to be here.”

“Yes you are,” she coolly responded. “Let’s not ever forget that.”

She took the panties, dropped them negligently to the table, then stood and handed me the brimming glass. “Wine.”

I reached for it, and then hesitated.

“Well?”

“I’m in training, ma’am. Alcohol is forbidden. And team rules aside, I rarely drink wine – especially on an empty stomach.”

She thrust the glass into my hand anyway. “That wasn’t an offer boy. It was an order. Now drink! One glass of wine won’t kill you.”

Immediately cowed I obeyed, downing it all in a few huge swallows. Not that a neophyte like me would know, but it seemed an exquisite vintage: heady and delicious beyond belief. But then as I’d feared it went straight to my own head, destabilizing my already tenuous equilibrium. I swayed and almost fell, bracing myself on the table. Dr. Teasel smirked knowingly at me, and moved aside to offer me her poolside chair.

“Sit, boy. But strip first. I want you in your birthday suit in thirty seconds. And don’t worry about the neighbors, because there aren’t any. This pool and patio are as secluded as the dark side of the moon.”

Quickly I fumbled with my clothes, ripping them off as carelessly as I’d so deliberately donned them. My limbs felt suddenly leaden, and I tottered again and again as I finally divested myself of shoes, socks, slacks and boxers. My c**k was already climbing to past half-mast as I finally collapsed into the incredibly comfortable sling chair. Sitting down had never felt so good, and I exhaled hugely as I slumped there.

The just-beginning sunset caught my attention then, and this time the myriad shades of hue were so indescribably beautiful that all I could do was sit back and stare. Sunset over the ocean: I’d heard and read about such a spectacle, but until now I’d never conceived that there could be such beauty. I studied it, rapt, until finally the sharp rapping of a razor on a mirror roused me to look back at my companion.

This time she wasn’t bothering with the spoon at all, but cutting out whole lines. Feeling overwhelmed with lassitude all of the sudden, I dared speak up.

“Is that cocaine? I’ve heard it’s a wonderful stimulant. Right now I think I could use some…”

“Wrong!” declared Dr. Teasel. “I need a stimulant just now because I’m about to embark on a night of unparalleled, unprecedented s****l excess. You, on the other hand, need just the opposite. And in fact you’ve already had it!” She bent then and used a glass tube to sniff up line after long, crystalline line.

“Huh?” I muttered, more muddled than ever.

“You have been drugged, dear boy,” she announced matter-of-factly, as she dusted off her nose and inhaled hugely. “With a wonderful cocktail of my own con-c**k-tion!” She accentuated the pertinent syllables smugly. “That’s why I demanded you arrive here with an empty stomach. They will work so much better and faster that way.”

“But what…” I managed. “But why…?”

My grinning professor was delighted to enlighten me.

“Mixed in with the wine you just quaffed were the greatest accomplishments of my incredible career. Of course, the first few ingredients are nothing special: MDMA, a light hallucinogenic and erotic accentuator, plus a very powerful, and yet very specific muscle relaxant. These will make you feel very dreamy, horny, and of course very, very relaxed. You should be feeling the effects of these first two already, no?”

“Yes,” I slurred, slumping lower and immediately being captured again by the visual feast on the horizon. Paradoxically however, the more flaccid and dissociated I became, the bigger and harder my c**k got. Was this what she meant by an erotic accentuator? I had no time or will to ask, as my wired-up professor promptly proceeded with her lecture.

“It’s the final two ingredients that are what’s really important, however. The first is an amazingly powerful hypnotic agent I was lucky enough to develop and test with government funding a few years ago. Of course, once I realized its full potential I hid it, kept it entirely to myself. Trust the CIA with such a thing? Forget about it! Those amoral bastards! In any case, according to our secret prisoner studies, this drug will soon render you extremely suggestible. Coupled with my superior abilities as a hypnotist and psychologist, I should soon gain control of your deepest self almost effortlessly…”

Here she trailed off a bit, and haltingly digressed more to herself than me.

“Of course, complete mind control is the Holy Grail of practical Psychology… It’s never been done yet… But if I could accomplish it with you…

“Hell, screw publication, money and acclaim!” she suddenly exclaimed. “I can imagine rewards so much greater…”

She shook herself then, and coerced her concerns back to the present.

“In any case, it’s that last ingredient that I’m really eager to see in action. This particular drug is a development entirely of my own.

“Given my ‘little problem’,” Dr. Teasel grinned, “I’ve been working tirelessly all my life to increase male p***s size. Alas, despite my best efforts this has been an abysmal failure. c***s just can’t be made bigger; that’s all there is to it.”

She paused then, drawing out the suspense. Then, after a significant glance at my own still swelling member, she resumed.

“Erections on the other hand…that’s an entirely different matter. Force enough fluid into the p***s, and one can gain an appreciable increase in size with ease. So here at last we come back to you, my special little boy: my first ever human test subject. You are almost big enough to suit me – big enough to give me repeated orgasms at least, and big enough to fulfill my eternal needs even should this first experiment fail. But what I really want is a c**k so big that it hurts me going in. In a way, s****l pain is the greatest pleasure of all, something that I’m determined you will soon appreciate.