The Professor’s Prisoner

  Sophie Leigh

  Copyright 2014 Sophie Leigh

  All Rights Reserved

  This is a work of fiction. The characters and stories are all fictional and any resemblance to real life individuals is purely coincidental. In addition, this is a story of adult content. Inside, this story is filled with naughty nasty acts between consenting, legal aged adults.

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  MARISSA SQUIRMED as she took her seat in the front of her lecture hall. Students filed in around her, chatting and laughing as they waited for their professor to come in and start the day’s lecture. Nobody seemed to notice Marissa’s uncomfortable squirming. At least, not just yet. Marissa sighed as she remembered the office visit she made last week.

  This symbolic logic course was a lot harder than she had anticipated. She had signed up thinking this was an easy way to wiggle out of another much harder required course but little did she know that symbolic logic had turned out to be just as hard, if not harder. And she really needed to pass. Graduation was just a few months away and she refused to let it pass by her due to one failed class.

  Gathering up her courage, she knocked on her professor’s office door. “Come in,” came the deep reply. Marissa bit her lip and entered, still unsure as to what she was going to say. Inside, behind a large mahogany desk, sat Professor Mitchell. In his late forties, he had graying hair cropped in a short but stylish cut. He favored the classic professorial tweed blazer which somehow added to his masculinity, rather than detracted from. Marissa had often admired his constant rough shadow of stubble and the distinguished creases around his eyes.

  Professor Mitchell motioned towards a chair in front of his desk. Marissa quickly sat down and immediately began nervously twirling her long blonde hair. With educated and calculating blue eyes, Professor Mitchell carefully eyed Marissa. “So what can I do for you today, Marissa?” he asked calmly.

  Marissa cleared her throat and willed herself to stop playing with her hair. Trying to not sound too much like she was begging, she said, “Well, Professor, you see I’m having a little trouble in your class right now—”

  “Yes, I’ve noticed,” Professor interjected. Horrified, Marissa watched as he pulled out a stack of tests with Marissa’s conveniently on top, her glaring red F circled in a bold stroke of the maker. “This is the second test you’ve failed.” He spoke in a cool neutral voice with no judgment.

  Marissa couldn’t take her eyes away from the embarrassing test. “Yes, sir, it is. That’s why I’ve come to see you today. You see, this class is one of my required courses that’s needed for graduation. Without a passing grade, I won’t be able to walk at the end of this semester.”

  Professor Mitchell neither spoke nor nodded in acknowledgement. He just gazed with that unwavering calm of his dark blue eyes. Unsure as to how to continue, Marissa nonetheless pressed on. “S-so, Professor, you can see I’m in a tough spot. As it stands, I’m definitely set to fail.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Marissa swallowed. “Yes. So I was hoping, Professor, for some extra credit opportunities, perhaps? Something—anything—to help raise my grade to at least passing.” Marissa looked searchingly up at the Professor. She knew he probably heard a similar plea hundreds of time each semester but that didn’t make her any less desperate. Her entire family from out west were coming to her graduation. There was no way she had it in her to call all of them and tell them that she had in fact failed and wouldn’t be graduating that year.

  Professor Mitchell steepled his fingers and rested his chin on his hands. He regarded her with a thorough gaze. Marissa sat uncomfortably under his close scrutiny. He seemed to be able to see straight through her tight fitting sweater and her skintight jeans. Finally he spoke, “How willing are you to improve your grade, Marissa?”

  Marissa’s eyes widened as she felt a glimmer of hopeful possibility within her reach. “Oh very, Professor! Very willing!” she said, sitting at the edge of her seat.

  Professor Mitchell paused before he nodded gravelly. Gesturing towards the open door behind her, he said in a voice full of secretive interest, “Please, close the door, Marissa.”

  ***

  THINKING BACK now Marissa wondered if she’d do it again. Hearing all the students milling about her, chatting about classes and finals, Marissa yanked at the mandatory short skirt, trying to cover up as much of her thighs as possible. She sighed. Mandatory skirt.

  Professor Mitchell had been quite clear what he had in mind for Marissa to reach a passing grade in his class. “It won’t be easy,” he had said. “And if you decide to back out after agreeing, I will drop you immediately from the class with an automatic F.” That had definitely jolted Marissa. What kind of hoop jumping required such a strict commitment? But it didn’t matter. Marissa was desperate and she said yes without much hesitation.

  The first hoop had been the skirt. A short skirt was to be worn to their next lecture, with her sitting in the front row. He had told her exactly what he was looking for and Marissa had gone shopping that weekend to find the exact match. It was long enough to skim her generous ass, and that was being conservative. Marissa was pretty sure that people were able to see the curving roundness of her cheeks peeping below the edge of the skirt as she walked through campus. When sitting, Marissa felt her ass cheeks sit fully onto the lecture hall seat cushion with no skirt material in between. Essentially, it was a very short skirt.

  But this first hoop was only in service to the second, larger hoop. Marissa squirmed again in her seat, trying to find a position that didn’t press against the bulbous vibrator seated deep within her pussy. The mandatory vibrator. The Professor had yet again been very clear in what he had wanted. The metal bullet shaped vibrator was thick and stubby. Though not uncomfortable, its presence reminded Marissa very much the existence of her needy pussy. And needy it was. She couldn’t believe that even with the embarrassment of the short skirt and the required vibrator her pussy could feel an ounce of wetness. But it did. And certainly more than an ounce worth.

  Marissa should be trying to enjoy these last few moments before lecture. Because she knew as soon as the class started....

  ***

  “GOOD MORNING, students,” Professor Mitchell called out as he entered from the side door of the hall. He stepped up onto the dais and pulled out his laser pointer for his lecture slides. The class immediately quieted and settled into the serious business of symbolic logic. Professor Mitchell had a well-known reputation of being a no-nonsense professor who wouldn’t hesitate to throw out even a slightly disruptive student. And no new incoming student ever felt the need to test this reputation.

  Marissa felt her throat dry up. Oh god, it was about to start. She couldn’t believe she really was about to go through with all of this! But whether she felt ready or not (she didn’t), it was too late. She had agreed already and to shirk now would be to forfeit the entire class and its credits. But even with the stone cold facts of the situation clear in her head, Marissa felt her pussy clamp against the vibrator in both anxiety and anticipation.

  “Now, we will resume where we left off last week,” began Professor Mitchell. Marissa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. That was the cue. That was the line she had had to memorize this past weekend so she could properly show her sincerity in wanting a passing grade. Before hesitating too long, which was also against the rules, Marissa slowly parted her legs, wide.

  Marissa noticed students sitting next to her in the front row cast stunned or disgusted looks her way as her tiny skirt began to hitch up her waist. Her thin lacy black thong was very clearly visible to the Professor and anyone else sitting in the front row with her. She heard the girl two seats away huff in shocked disgust at seeing her splayed legs. Marissa swallowed the sheer pain of embarrassment and tried to focus only on the necessary tasks at hand.

  In a deceptively casual move, Professor Mitchell looked straight out at Marissa, his sharp blue gaze piercing her and the picture she made with her open legs. Giving a quick nod of acknowledgement that could just as well be interpreted as a nod of thoughtful academic introspection, the Professor smoothly moved straight into discussing logic problems. Marissa breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She had completed her first set of tasks adequately enough then.

  As the Professor lectured as if nothing was wrong, the students in the front row slowly began to focus more on the material rather than on Marissa’s wantonly spread legs and lace covered pussy. Marissa tried to feign a modicum of normality, as if this was normal behavior for her or anyone else, and tried to take notes of the lecture points. But all she could do was hold her pencil, hovering it nervously over her notebook as her pussy grew horrifyingly wet.

  How could she be getting wet? She was so embarrassed she wanted to crawl into her bed and never get out. But at the same time, she caught the covert glances Professor Mitchell threw her way. She saw how his eyes had darkened with desire and how he seemed to only be lecturing on her side of the dais. Every time she caught another heated glance from the Professor, Marissa felt her pussy moisten.

  “Now let’s do some actual logic prob lems,” the Professor announced. Marissa felt her stomach drop. This was it. Part two. Professor Mitchell pulled up a slide full of logic problems. And as he pointed at the first problem, the hard vibrator between her legs sprang to life, buzzing with a fury. Marissa gasped as she felt all the nerves along her already swollen pussy become electrified with intense pleasure. She hadn’t seen where Professor Mitchell had kept the controller but obviously it was near at hand.

  Students all around her bent their heads to their notebooks, trying to solve the posted problem. As the Professor waited, the class fell into a hushed studious silence. The only sounds that could be heard were the scratchings of pencils against paper and the buzzing of Marissa’s loud vibrator.

  Heat burned against Marissa’s cheeks as she fought against the impulse to clamp her legs together. Her legs had to stay open for the entire class. Truthfully, this vibrator probably was no louder than the one she used at home but she had never tried using her home vibrator in a classroom full of silent students to judge sound volume. If she had, she probably would have realized that in such a circumstance, no vibrator would ever be silent enough. As molten mortification poured through Marissa, she noticed students around her furtively looking around for the source of the buzzing. Some were checking their bags to see if their cellphone was on vibrate.

  Marissa looked up at the dais where the Professor was leaning on his lectern, looking directly at Marissa. As unbelievable wave after wave of pleasure fought against her crippling embarrassment, Marissa threw the Professor a desperate look of mercy. Please, she tried to communicate with her eyes, please Professor. They can all hear it. And as Marissa tried not to moan against another traitorous ripple of delight, a slow, wicked grin crossed the Professor’s face.

  Marissa knew she was doomed.

  “Time’s up. Who has the answer for problem 1?” Professor Mitchell called out. Students shifted uncomfortably in their seats as they tried to avert their gaze. Nobody liked volunteering themselves to Professor Mitchell, lest they got it wrong. Marissa gripped her notebook, sweat starting to glisten at her temple. She exhaled slowly. Her body seemed to be acclimating a little to the vibrations. She wasn’t comfortable but she might be able to make it to the end of the class without moaning out loud. As for her embarrassment, there was nothing she could do about that.

  “Marissa? You’re sitting up front. What did you get for problem 1?” Professor asked calmly from the dais.

  Marissa felt all two hundred eyes fall on her as the lecture hall waited for her answer. Completely horrified, her mouth gaped open like a goldfish. How could he ask her? He knew she hadn’t worked out the problem! She could hardly hold her pencil let alone work out one of his impossible logic problems. The girl next to her was giving Marissa’s crotch a suspicious look.

  “I-I don’t know, Professor. I couldn’t f-figure it out,” she said, biting her lip against the quivers that ran through the length of her body. She heard the whole class gasp in horrified silence. No one dared to give no answer.

  The Professor raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t figure it out? That doesn’t bode well for a student who is already failing, Marissa,” the Professor said bluntly. Marissa could hear students tittering in embarrassed shame for her. The Professor never minced words. Marissa could hardly take it. The embarrassment of having her legs spread wide open with a vibrator buzzing up her dripping pussy was more than unbearable but now to be humiliated with her failing grades in front of the whole class? Marissa felt herself shudder against the shame and, surprisingly, the increased arousal.

  “Well then, tell us at least, Marissa, how we could go about solving this problem?” the Professor asked, leaning casually against his lectern. He was enjoying every minute of Marissa’s squirming shame and had no intention of letting up on her.

  Marissa slowly exhaled again. It was ok, she told herself. She felt a little bit in control. She was getting a little used to the vibrations. Now think, how could she solve problem 1? And as she read the problem for the first time, Marissa noticed the Professor slip his hand into his pocket. Immediately, the buzzing rose to high keen as the vibrations sped up and shook Marissa to her quivering core. She gasped loudly, drawing the stares of several students, now all looking at her and her slutty seated posture with growing curiosity.

  Marissa squeezed her eyes shut. No matter how she shifted in her seat, she couldn’t find a way to escape the intensity of the vibrator. It was pushing against the front wall of her vagina, making her drip from the intense stimulation of her g-spot. A low moan escaped her lips. She couldn’t help it. She knew the entire front row was now looking at her. They had all heard her. Oh god, Marissa definitely did not want to come in front of her entire class.

  “Well?” the Professor asked, voice clearly amused.

  Marissa opened her eyes. There was no way she could read the logic problem, let alone understand what it said. But she did understand that the Professor did not mean to let her escape. He was going to keep questioning her until he was satisfied.

  “Uh...Per-perhaps a lo-logic...,” Marissa moaned again, a little more loudly, “tree?” Her body shook from the humiliation of being so publicly exposed yet her pussy had never been wetter. She had never felt so completely aroused. Her fingertips tingled and her toes curled. Even her scalp seemed to tingle from sensory overload. Marissa tried to keep herself completely still. She was so aroused and so sensitive now that any shift in position made her convulse in pleasure.

  “A logic tree?” the Professor asked, raising a mocking eyebrow again. “I invite you to look again, Marissa. A logic tree would not work in this case. What else could we use?” He smiled wickedly. Marissa knew he was enjoying every humiliating second of her ordeal.

  What answer could she give? She didn’t know how to solve the problem! If she did, she wouldn’t be in such an embarrassing situation in the first place. With a horrifying realization, Marissa felt her body tensing. She felt her nipples bunching against her tight t-shirt and her body coiling in response to the buzzing. Her body was getting ready for the ultimate explosion, her orgasm. She shook her head quickly as if to deny her body that right. She could not have an orgasm here. She just couldn’t! But there was no mistake about the rising wave after wave of shockingly intense pleasure. Marissa was dying to close her legs in shame but she was also dying to shove her fingers down her lacy thong and stroke herself till she came screaming.

  “Marissa? You are keeping up the class,” Professor Mitchell called out.

  Marissa gripped her notebook, completely bending the cardboard cover. As she tried to gain some composure, the vibrator buzzed even louder and faster. Marissa’s eyes widened in shock. There was another level? She had bought the damn thing and hadn’t seen the third level on the packaging! Marissa bit her lip, groaning.

  “Marissa?” Professor called again in a pleased, sing-song voice.

  Sweat trickled down Marissa’s face as she fought a losing battle against her traitorous pussy. She knew there was a puddle in her seat from the intense arousal. Trying to find her voice, Marissa straightened up a little in her seat. Big mistake. The vibrator shifted just enough to hit a sensitive spot, sending Marissa tumbling over the edge into a dark crevasse of unbelievable pleasure. “I don’t knooooow!” Marissa cried out, unable to keep herself from moaning loudly as she threw her head back. The room sheeted white against her eyes as her entire body seemed to explode from the tension that had built up within. Her chest heaved as every pleasurable sensation coursed through her veins. Marissa sat back, gasping, never having come so hard in her life.

  The vibrator turned off. A ghostly humming sensation remained in her swollen pussy. But now the class was completely silent. No vibrations. But no talking either. Feeling her senses come back to her, Marissa slowly turned her head around. It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room. All 200 pairs of horrified eyes were pointed directly at Marissa. Even with the orgasmic aftermath shudders still rocking her body, Marissa felt her face boil in complete shame. What had she just done?

 

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