Caught in Class

Katie used to think Professor Wilkins was a nice guy. He’s young for a college professor and mouthwateringly handsome. The girls in her class joke about staying after for extra attention. But when he catches Katie copying off another student, she finds out in a hurry that being on his bad side can be intense.

He’s not shy about showing the pretty nineteen year old who’s boss in more ways than one. And when his methods make a big impression on her, another professor wants to help take the inexperienced young woman to her full potential …

That’s what college is about, right?

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, mature older professors and their young inexperienced student, forbidden lust, unprotected first time sex, rough group menage, dominance and submissiveness. All characters are 18 or older.


Her tits and clit felt full and sensitive for the rest of the day, and the moment she was back at her dorm before dinner, she had to indulge herself again. The memory of that hungry, dominant gaze of Professor Wilkins – the way his eyes over her body with an undisguised look of ownership – was enough to get her instantly wet.

She had never thought of herself as obsessed with sex, but suddenly it was always on her mind. She couldn’t remember for the life of her what Mr. Wilkins had been trying to teach her. She just knew that she wanted more of something she should absolutely, positively not want more of. It was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to have enjoyed it, was she? It was supposed to have chastened her, but instead it made her voracious.

Professor Wilkins, it turned out, had no intention of letting her off so easily. At the next class after their little session together, he had told her he expected her back at the end of each day to clean up the classroom.

It was almost torture: reporting to his classroom knowing what had happened there, and instead spend the half an hour or more just picking up pieces of paper, scrubbing desks, and emptying trash. Professor Wilkins was usually working at his desk, keeping a casual eye on her as she worked. Being alone with him was now an intense experience for her, and she finished each little cleaning session as wet and horny as she had ever been before the older man had unleashed this side of her.

It was only a matter of time before her distractions took their toll in her other coursework. It was two weeks after this had all started that Professor Lancaster asked her to stay back to talk to him about her recent statistics exam.

Needless to say, Katie, scoring a 57 on a major exam is not the way to a decent grade in my class, he concluded.

Oh please, Professor, isn’t there something I could do for a bit of extra credit? she begged.

He considered it. In the past, I’ve been lenient on students who show me a real desire to improve. Tests from earlier in the year can be weighted less if you really commit yourself to learning the material. How about we schedule a couple study sessions to see if we can’t get you back on track and take it from there?

Inwardly she groaned. More time pretending to care about statistics? But outwardly she beamed and smiled. Oh thank you, Professor, she said. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. Maybe there would be a way to project enthusiasm without having to waste time on these extra sessions.

So when Professor Lancaster offered to meet with her on Wednesday, she explained with exaggerated regret that she was going to be working with Professor Wilkins that afternoon.

It was a convenient excuse, and it seemed Professor Lancaster would take it at face value. Over the next week or so he offered several more times they might meet to help her improve, but each time she had to say with great disappointment that Professor Wilkins had her working a lot of projects just now – in fact it was probably why she hadn’t been able to study for the statistics exam – and she just couldn’t meet then.

It seemed like there was only so long before Professor Lancaster would give up. After all, she was only one of almost a hundred students.

But Professor Lancaster was a very generous man who cared about his students, and he hated to see any of them fall through the cracks. On the other hand, he was certainly not a fool. He was in his late thirties, sharp, intense, and popular. And when something seemed strange to him, he got to the bottom of it.

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EROTICA: Sitter Discipline: Three Very Naughty Stories

A babysitter is meant to be keeping the kids well-behaved, but when the man of the house discovers she’s the one getting out of line, he needs to take matters into his own hands …

Even with three full-length stories of steamy, exquisite discipline, this bundle will leave you desperate for more!

Reader Advisory: These stories are for mature audiences only and feature intensely erotic situations, wealthy, powerful, and well-hung older men and the fertile younger women employed in their homes, spanking, discipline, multiple partners and rough group sex, dominance and submissiveness. All characters are 18 or older.

Check out the preview for a peek at all the hot action inside that would never be allowed in a public description!


He stood up and came around behind her. His hand positioned her waist, pushing her ass further outwards and her torso down into a more humiliating posture. His touch was strong and authoritative against her trembling stomach.

“Lift your skirt up.”

Her face burned more hotly as she reached back and lifted the hem of her skirt up to her waist, exposing her panties.

She couldn’t stifle a gasp of chagrin as she felt his fingers hook into the waistline of the panties and pull them down her thighs, leaving her suddenly and mortifyingly uncovered. She stood there frozen, holding up her own skirt to expose herself for the man about to spank her.

As she felt the cool air of the room playing across her bare ass and pussy, she realized with a tremble that she was wet. Not just a little wet, but very wet.

Mr. Green’s hand ran lightly over the full, tight curve of her ass. His fingertips made her skin tingle as they passed over her, effortlessly and perhaps unintentionally communicating how thoroughly he had come to control her, mind and body.

“This will happen every time you are bad,” he said. “Every time you are lazy or apathetic to the job you were hired to do. You will be spanked. I will bring you into my kitchen and you will lift up your skirt for me and then I will punish you just like I am about to do now. I don’t care if my children hear you. They know what happens to rule breakers in this house. Do you understand?”

“Yes – yes, sir,” she said, her voice halfway between a whimper and a moan.

“Good. Count for me.”

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Picking up the Sitter

How Rachel ended up babysitting for the most eligible single father in the greater metro area, she still doesn’t really understand.

Pierce Krakauer is any girl’s dream, and twice a week the handsome thirty-five year old personally gives her a ride home after babysits his infant son. She can’t help but fantasize, especially with the way he flirts shamelessly with her, but the pretty young nineteen year old is still grown up enough to know that nothing real could ever happen.

But when she gets stranded downtown in the rain after the last bus of the night, he’s the only one who picks up the phone. All sorts of things of rules suddenly seem ready to be broken and the restraint he’s always shown seems to be wearing thin …

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations, a mature man of the house and a young inexperienced babysitter, forbidden desires, unprotected first time sex, dominance and submissiveness. All characters are 18 or older.


She nodded, chastened.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I was getting pretty scared.”

“I’m very, very glad I was there.”

She blinked back another tear. Why was she so emotional? She had never in a million years suspected he would care this much one way or another. Maybe all this time she hadn’t been the only one who valued their time together.

“You’re always so good to me,” she went on. “I just wish I knew how to …”

He reached out and brushed away a tear that she hadn’t quite managed to blink away. His hand rested under her chin, and suddenly she was looking him in the face, into his eyes, perfect hazel clouded with concern and soft with affection. Of all the parts of him she’d admired and dwelled on, how had she never noticed such beautiful eyes?

“You’re a really incredible man,” she said simply. “I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

He smiled. “A lot of people seem to say that to me. It means a lot more coming from you.”

She shrugged off her coat, warming after the chill wetness of the weather. She saw his eyes flick down over the revealing dress she’d worn for the evening. His gaze lingered on its plunging neckline that revealed the tops of her soft breasts and the way the fabric clung to her hips.

“I just wish I had something I could give back, you know?” she said, following his eyes. “Some way to show you how much I appreciate you. I guess a silly girl like me doesn’t have much.”

She could see that desire in his eyes again, the look she practically lived for these days, but she knew he wouldn’t put a hand on her. It was wrong. She knew it was wrong.

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