Office Hours (Closed thread)

[PollySays]

Becky tried.

She tried so hard to keep going, to keep saying the words he had demanded from her, to beg for him to continue.

But she couldn't.

Saying it all, feeling it all. It was too much.

His grip against her hair, the feel of his body pounding against her, within her. Claiming every inch of her, both inside and out. Every part of her, was his. As much as she tried to fight him, demand freedom from him, plead and beg for him to stop before.

She didn't want to beg for that now.
She begged for just the opposite.

Don't stop.
Please.
Fuck me.
Keep me.

All of it, washing over her. That thunder outside couldn't match the one in her chest, brought on by him, the release he gave her. Spent, broken, exhausted. A puppet in his grasp now, a weak mess quivering and whimpering, soaked in both sweat and her own juices running down her thighs. Against him.

She felt it.
Him.

Push deeper. Force harder.
Meeting her plea to feel him. To have him.
Full. Claimed.

Becky groaned again, gasping as he let her fall against the table, her eyes drifting closed as she continued to pant for air.

So exhausted.
Overwhelmed.
A mess. His mess.

"Professor." A tiny whisper.
That feeling.
Good Lord.
Everything he had done to her, everything he had made her do.
"Thank. You."

It felt so strange to say.
Yet. She felt it necessary.
She had done everything he told her.
And he had done what she had asked of him.

 

[Bevatoria]

Adam couldn't believe it. Not in the relative peace, the rain still going on outside but much less noticeable then before, making the only audible sounds their breathing; hers ragged and erratic; his own controlled and steady. It was about more then physical stamina, about his being in better shape then her. More then his rought he'd been with her body. It was about how much he'd taken from her. He was the one who'd feasted, still looming over his prey as she lied on the table. And she, looking to recover, not daring to move as as their breathing kept on filling the room around them.

Or it could've been the cuffs still on her wrists. She turned to him in voice only, and the words that came out of her surprised him.

Not the first one. It was the title he'd demanded she give to him, more then just a mere teacher to her now, in a position of authority over her that nobody knew about. That nobody could know about, a thought that started to come to him now that he had a chance to collect himself; no longer consumed in the mindless lust of fucking his student.

But the second two. It stunned him, the one who was supposed to be in control, the one who'd brought her here under the pretense of punishment. It made him remember the most curious part of all of this, to someone observing from an impartial standpoint. An avenue he could take now, in his own mind.

She came. Listened to him and had come to his house. After all he'd done to her, how he'd tormented her, pushed her, ravaged her in his own home, in her dorm room...in his office. The way he'd tested her in his classroom. He took her limits, gently pressured them, scraping her boundaries away before utterly destroying them. And after all of that...she had still come.

His hands moved of their own volition, unlocking the cuffs off of her wrists involuntarily. Releasing her from physical bondage, but not from his control, gently helping her up. Out of necessity. Turning her, looking over her bruised, sweaty, messy body, as if for the first time.

"Why did you thank me?" His tone was neutral, conveying neither annoyance, nor admiration. Not love, or hate. Only curiousity. She was still beautiful.

And, for the moment, still his, as she answered.

 

[PollySays]

"Uh..." Becky felt her tired arms released from the links, her body's heat refusing back to her against the wooden table. Strong little table. Poor little table. Her hands started to pull about her, trying to push herself up, quivering legs refusing to cooperate as well as she had hoped.

His own found her, turned her about, left her shaking against that table she inwardly praised and pitied. His words, so soft and blunt.

She had managed to confuse him.
Everything that they had done. She confused him.
She confused herself. Those words flowed on their own, leaving her lips without thought.

No. There was thought. Not focused. Simply letting her mind say what it chose to, the filter on her voice lost in her orgasm given by him.
And that was why.

"You. You finally. After all that. Everything. You made me need you. God. God I needed you." The words rumbled out now, get voice wavering, nearly in tears once more. "Everything that wanted to fight you, that hated you, the things you've done to me... They're the same things that wanted more. That wanted. This." She looked up at him, the tears finally coming free. "I'm even more afraid now... Afraid of..." She trailed off, shaking her head as she clutched his table, shaking still.

She couldn't say it.
Couldn't admit to it.
Everything he had done.
Everything-

"I. Please. Please, professor. You scare me. You frighten the absolute hell out of me. But."
She still felt it. Every newly sore muscle, every worked over part, every tremble inside her and within her used pussy. The places claimed by him. The skin marked by him.
"I. I'm afraid. Because I still. Want it." She stared at the floor, horrified at the words that still flowed from her, just as the warmth of his claim ran down her thigh. "I fear you, but I suddenly fear being- without this. You've. I don't... I can't..."

So hard to speak.
"Professor, please!"

 

[Bevatoria]

Adam simply looked at her, watched her. Letting his Becky speak as she struggled to comprehend what was happening, and why. To deal with the pleasures given by both him and her, with the reality that this was happened, that he had finally taken her. For the first time, but not the last. "You. You finally. After all that. Everything. You made me need you. God. God I needed you." Her words were hesitant, uncertain, as if not knowing its source with the storm continuing to rage outside, thunder and lightning clearly audible.

"Everything that wanted to fight you, that hated you, the things you've done to me... They're the same things that wanted more. That wanted. This." Daringly, her eyes met his and he tilted his head. "I'm even more afraid now... Afraid of..." Her voice left her, but Adam found his own, and smiled. Smirked at her, finding his arrogance, the control again.

"Afraid of what, Becky?" A bit of a mocking tone as he used her name, not the one he'd given her in the heat of passion, lust, and endorphins earlier when he had graced her profile with his seed.

Another lick of thunder. The student shook her head. "I. Please. Please, professor. You scare me. You frighten the absolute hell out of me. But." Adam's hand found the nape of her neck, gently trailing over her shoulder, down her arm as she continued.

"I. I'm afraid. Because I still. Want it." Her eyes couldn't meet his now as the words kept coming out. "I fear you, but I suddenly fear being- without this. You've. I don't... I can't..."

"Can't what?" The smile gone, his eyes boring into hers even if she refused to look at him. She had pleasured him enough that it would be no mercy to grace her with a smile, but even that small, insignificant trifle was denied her. She was lying to him again, trying to hide, and for that she would need to be punished further. Whatever control he had been trying to maintain with her was now gone, lost in a maddening abyss of lust, anger, and pent up sexual frustration. All of it that was now slowly coming out on young Becky, shaking and huddling against the table.

"Professor, please!"

No words were spoken, not necessarily because of the thunder and lightning outside; Adam drew strength from the silence. From the uncertainty. Her uncertainty. Both at what she wanted, and what was about to happen here. His hand was resting just above her hip. He took Becky in, seeing her skin. Still pale in many places, even as there was clear marks and evidence of how he'd worked her over. It should have been enough; his own body was tired, aching a little even as he knew she would be hurting more.

But even if physically he couldn't respond, the fire was still burning mentally. His lust was not sated. If anything, a sampling of this young student had only inflamed it. His right hand trailing back towards her navel, slowly up the center of her body. Adam stepped closer, no hint of love or passion in his eyes as that same right hand circled to the back of her head. His left hand squeezed her ass, just a bit, unclenching it as his lips leaned into her. Their lips only centimetres apart.

"You can't leave, Becky." The little rainstorm outside, now a full blown thunder and lightning show, had nothing to do with it. And he made sure she knew it before he continued. "Not yet." His whisper was dark, low, husky with desires he still had. The left hand trailed lazily along her thing, back towards her center. He pushed in closer, as if to kiss her, but keeping his lips just a short distance from hers. Her sex leaked with his seed, and hers, but his hands went along with it, a lone finger slipping inside of her. Seeing if she had anything left to give.

Sliding in and out. One finger quickly became two digits, twisting and flexing as he looked at her to test her reaction. It would be so easy to just lean in a bit more and kiss her, to tease her, confuse her further and drive her mind into the abyss. He had hurt her, but he could pleasure her, as well, and Adam wasn't even entirely sure who moved first, only that moans from either him or her were quickly followed by him mashing his lips hungrily into hers, a lustful kiss that came from a man taking something else from a woman.

Two fingers became three.

 

[PollySays]

Becky trembled still as his hand ran against her, seemingly unphased by the frightened confused words that poured from his pupil's lips. Even she didn't understand them. But they wanted to be free, wanted to make him hear her. To know the things that burned inside her, the fears and confusions that tore at her.

Freedom.
The closest to freedom she could find.
Freedom to tell him.
To tell him that-
That-
She didn't want any further freedoms than this.

Her eyes finally raised to his as his hands took conflicting paths; one to her neck, one to her hip. Exploring and roaming, reclaiming the body he had already made his own before he had ever even touched it in such a manner. What had happened. What he had done. What they had done.

Becky hadn't fought.
She complied completely. Frightened, yes. But never trying to fight. Never trying to scream. Not anymore.

He had broken through that.
Left her to want.
To need.
To ache. For him. For more of this. To be driven mad for this.

His hand against her hair brought a tiny gasp to her lips, her eyes widening slightly as she stared up at him, trembling lips left parted as she tried to find her breath. He was so close. He was staring into her. Not just into her eyes. Into her, clutching onto her flesh, digging fingertips sharply into the round of her ass. A weak whimper, a tiny cringe, but her gaze unwavering. Refusing to break that line of sight.

Afraid of what would happen. That line of weakness. Of faltering.
A beast upon its prey.

Just how weak was she?

"I... don't...," She attempted to breathe out in response to his words, gasping as trailed his hand's warmth further against her skin. Mapping her. Testing her. Pushing himself closer both with touch and proximity, his pupil trembling against the table as those fingers slid closer to her sex.

"Professor-" Barely above a whisper, though the sharp cry that came with his digits' push was certainly more than that. Her fingers clung to his table, trying to keep her own stability as he held to her, a single digit pushed within her. Sore flesh, exhausted muscles- yet still taken into the want for him. A meek little moan left her lips, a pleading look to her eyes. "Sir, please-," She whimpered, the sound of his now dual unheeding fingers pressing deeply into her dripping sex filling her ears as he continued on.

Three.
Becky whined again, her gaze managing to break as she clenched her eyes closed, her lips tightening as her body reacted to his touch. Aching and tired. But still desiring more. The girl herself exhausted, but her need. Unending. He had made this. Caused this.

Becky was nearly in tears.
They finally fell as he kissed her, a hungered mash of his own lips upon hers that took away her breath. She felt them trail her cheeks, her own lips eagerly taking to his as she whimpered again, groaning against him. Utterly confused, lost to him.

She didn't understand. Didn't understand at all.
She didn't want to.
Give up on thinking. On trying to understand. Give up. Everything.
Everything for him.

That was what brought the tears. Accepting this. Needing this.
Needing him.

 

[Bevatoria]

His mouth only pressed more wantonly into her. Ignoring her tears, pushing further with her moans, her crying as Adam only saw what he wanted to see, heard what he wanted to hear. That was her gift to him. Submission not just of body and mind, but of feeling. Whatever she felt, did, it was because he wanted her to. That he craved the conflict, the struggle that was building up with her as he kissed her, forced her with lips and thrusting fingers inside of her. Becky hated him, but he needed him, more then even he knew now as she tensed around him. He was tired, too, but Adam's arousal still burnt within him, from a part that would never be sated.

He saw her hair, disheveled and loose around her, flailing wildly with her movements, with where he'd pulled it earlier. He stroked it lovingly, tenderly, as if he was sorry he had yanked it, gripped it, and all but pulled it out earlier. It was long, beautiful, a part of her, yet at time to his primal instincts, nothing but a handhold for his young student as he bent her over. Adam leaned back, watching her reaction as his lips lost contact with hers. Needing to push her one more time. Several more times. All tonight, or over the next few months, it didn't matter.

He wondered if he should bring her downstairs. She couldn't go home. Not in the rain. Not when he still craved her. He'd prepared so much for her, but it wasn't time. Yet. These all ran through his mind as his fingers pushed and squished into her, slick with her fluids, not giving her ground even if she tried to pull away. A strong grip on her arm prevented that. Not that Becky could run. Or would.

Downstairs would not do. Neither would upstairs. To have her sleep in his bed, well, that would be indecent. Unbecoming of a professor and his student. But on the couch, where he'd fucked her?

Sure. Plans, thoughts about what to do next, all coming together as he brought her closer to her orgasm. To the high she'd hit twice already tonight under his hands, his cock.

And one she wouldn't hit again, as he stopped as he felt her start to collapse. To start to anticipate it, thinking she knew what was coming as two hands - one slick with wetness, and one similiarly discolored - grabbed her hands, pinning them at her sides.

"No, Becky."

 

[PollySays]

She wanted to keep fighting. A deep desire to continue to hold on to that, the last shred of what she thought was her own. So much of her was now his. His toy, his game. Even this, the kiss that drove onto her, crossed through the lines that even his touch and use of her body seemed to never take. She couldn't explain it, couldn't understand it. But that was what broke her completely. He took those steps.

Becky's mind couldn't understand. Hatred and need. Desperate for more of a man she despised so much now. Her body trembled against him, the fingers plunging into his student forcing further moans against his lips. Thankful for the table. Thankful for his touch.

You bastard!
Oh god. God, yes. I'm yours, professor.

That thought pushed to the forefront of her struggling mind, crying out from both it and his unwavering touch as he drew away his kiss. Becky could no longer think clearly, words impossible to form completely. Her focus to him, to what he gave her, made her crave. Clutching his table, staring up at him in a nearly gone lost state, her lips parted as she panted for breath.

Moans. Deep, needing, pleading moans.
God, he felt too good. He pushed, pushed. Drove her past what she feared was too far.

"Professor-!," she cried out, looking back up to him with pleading eyes as he stroked against her hair. Attempting to calm her? A man with his pet. Pet. That's what she was to him now, wasn't she?

Her eyes closed with that, his fingers still burying into her, reminding her of just how much his she was. This was for him to claim. To use as he wished, to control as he wanted. Becky's cries continued to grow, her exhausted body giving in to his hand. Again. She needed to give in, again. Give him what he demanded, again. Her muscles tightened against him, her sex pleading for more as her thighs trembled, the girl herself shuddering now. So close, so-

"No, Becky."

She sobbed again, crumbling into his grip upon her arms, her form still shaking as she tried to control herself. Her heart was pounding far too hard, her need overwhelming her as she struggled to keep her balance.

Why?
Why did he do this?

She couldn't ask. Only cry, shaking desperately between him and his table.

 

[Bevatoria]

The kiss had confirmed it. Even as he yearned for more of it, to press Becky against him and force her to please him in any way he wanted, Adam knew now this wasn't love. Testing the waters, as he had to be sure before he pushed her into the next part of their relationship. One they were both treading new ground in; him where he wanted to go, and Becky where she was willing to be led to. Or pulled to. Or forced to.

It didn't matter to him what she thought of it. Only that she obeyed.

Strong, weathered hands pulled her up on to the table, to sit on it. Like a naughty girl being lectured by her parents, or a teacher. A superior. He stroked her head again lovingly, as if the motions could undo the damage of what he'd done to her body and mind so far this evening.

"This is your punishment, Becky." He said slowly, letting the real ramifications of those five words sink in, as if he wasn't about to illustrate it for her. "The consequences of not obeying me."

"You coming over here to my home was not it."

That is my discretion.

"You stripping naked for me was not it."

That is my will for you, whenever I see you.

"You sucking my cock, being fucked by me, cuffed by me...your body used by me. That was not it."

These are my indulgences, to take whenever and wherever I see fit.

"Your punishment was to know that all of this, to bend and be twisted to my every desire and whim.. is what you want."

He let the words linger there, letting Becky take them in before the continued. Adam knew the value of silence; hers willed by him, and his intentional, before finally continuing.

"And I will keep your own pleasure from you whenever I see fit." He looked down on her. "However, student, if you are willing to obey me, I am willing to grant you your release before we meet again." The storm was starting to lessen, as if giving his words their own stage, and he had to admit he needed his own time to think this through. This night would start the process of showing how far they would go together...how far she would go for him. He slowly paced the room as if he were in a lecture hall, and not naked with a trembling young woman sitting, tensing on his every word, and he turned to her.

"Are you listening, student?" He snapped back at her. Smirking, at the same time, if that were possible.

 

[PollySays]

No sound left her as he placed her upon the table, left only with the shuddering motions of her form as he pet against her. They felt. Nice. Unsettling in a way, but a semblance of soothing to it as well.

Becky's gaze drifted up only slightly, a nervous unease to view his face as he spoke to her. Still shivering. Still taken over by all they had done. All he had done.

She wanted to speak. To say something in her defense, but her lips could only part- no sound managing to leak through. Every word that left him managed to tear into her ears, burow into her mind. Reminders of what she had given to him. He hadn't taken. Not completely. He had simply given her cravings. Made her want to give, as much as parts of her hated for it to happen.

That was cemented to her. His words reminding her even further as it was uttered from his own lips, her eyes widening at having it broguht out so openly before her. Spoken. The unspoken has been uttered.

Becky's eyes closed then, a brief momentary flutter of her lids to try and block that from taking further brewings in her mind. No use.
Repeating.
Reminding.
All of this... is what you want.

Her fingers tightened into clenched fists between her knees, cupped together as she struggled with those words. Her gaze rose just enough to view his eyes as he spoke again, demanding her obedience to him.

"Professor..."
It was nothing more than a whisper, Becky unable to stop the shuddering that raced through her body. That pacing. It was nervewracking enough as a student, but moreso in this situation. Scrutiny and impatience. Waiting, waiting for his answer.

Choose the right one.

She cringed as he barked a reminder to her, her fingers tensing against the back of her hand as she nodded furiously. "Yes, yes sir, Yes Professor- I'm listening, I understand!" She blurted the words out quickly, her head directed back towards the floor as she closed her eyes tightly.

He scared her. So very much.
But she wanted it.
Just as he had said.
She did.
GOd, why did she?
This was wrong, so very wrong. Everything he had done, was doing know, what he planned to do.

"I will obey, Professor. I will." Becky's gaze rose just enough to view him standing before her, swallowing hard to fight back the renewed desire to burst into tears. "Everything you want. Because I. I want it as well."

Did she?
Yes.
No? Yes!
Her hands rose once again, this time for her face to bury down into, sobbing once more.
Not fear. Not hatred or pain.
Overwhelmed.
Simply overwhelmed. By everything.

 

[Bevatoria]

Adam moved to her, trying to simmer down her crying. "Now now, Becky." Calming words from a man to a friend, and not a professor to a student, as Adam tried to gently rusted her hair. "Do not cry. You must be strong. You are strong." Not that mere words could stop her tears, but it would start to build the strength she would need to get through the rest of what he would put her through. The rest of what she would endure to please him, to submit to his twisted, perverted desires.

"You cannot stay here." Of course she could, but the storm outside had lessened, and she was not ready for what he wanted. Not yet. The storm in him was raging, but contained, by his mind knowing what was necessary for her. And for him. She could not spend the night. "What would they say if they know about us, Student?"

Back to his name for her.

"All we are...are a professor and a pupil, Becky. Nothing more." His hand crawled from her hair, down her back, as he spoke. "And we both must maintain that fiction." For him, easy. But for her? "In order to keep outside appearances, of course. In your heart, you know the truth." A rough hand sliding down to her ass, creeping over to her thigh. To the place still dripping with him.

"That you are mine."

Another pause.

"But you have that boyfriend, yes? Tom?" The mere mention of his name made his face tense, and his hand withdraw. "You must reassure him, Becky. Do whatever you need to, but make him think nothing is wrong with you. That you were sick, that you needed time...whatever it is." Another moment, the silence having purpose, to let him think and to let both of the storms pass. "But a young, beautiful girl like you, spending her time alone, or only with her professor during office hours..." Adam folded his hands behind his back before turning to her. "Well, that would raise eyebrows, wouldn't it?"

"So draw him back in. Whether it's seduction, no seduction, apologizing...lying, whatever." He shrugged. "Whatever you do is no consequence to me. Only your obedience." Another couple of steps away, before he turned to her one last time, as if he'd forgotten something about how she looked. "Right....that release I promised you..."

No more smile on his face. Only intensity, as he took his glasses off from the counter where he'd idly put them earlier, looking at her over them.

"If you want to orgasm before we meet again, student, then your only conditions for doing so are the following." The smile was only in his head as he looked at her. "Your...'boyfriend' must hear you during your moment of release, though he need not know what it is you're doing. I may suggest thinking of him, though you can explain it away however you like if he is in a position to inquire about it." It took every inch of his willpower to not smirk during his second instruction. "And you must be nude."

An instruction that seemed inconsequential in this moment where they were both exposed to each other. But one that also contradicted what he'd asked for earlier. Would she choose the path of deception, and hiding...or total outright seduction? To try to draw him deeper into this twisted game that he was already involved in?

She'd have time to think it through. She knew what he was capable of.

What they were capable of.