Caught By My Professor

Reader Advisory: This story is for mature audiences only and features intensely erotic situations between an older man and a young woman, taboo teacher/student relations, discipline, spanking, humiliation, deflowering, submissiveness and dominance. All characters are 18 or older.

Rachel Stanton has always found ways of using her good looks to get ahead, and when she arrives in college it doesn’t look like that’s going to have to change. But her easy ride runs out when her professor Alex Cossaign notices her flirting with a classmate only to copy his course work. The handsome professor decides it’s time to teach her a little personal responsibility and maybe show the flirtatious young woman just what a man who actually knows how to handle her charms looks like.


“You know, Professor,” I begin, “I understand why you have me cleaning the classroom. I’m really learning a lesson. But as for talking to Brad, I really don’t understand why that’s so necessary. How do you know I don’t like him?” I find myself blushing deeper crimson. “I mean, he’s not the single most handsome man I can think of,” I say, “but a girl’s gotta take what she can get, right? Sometimes I just get lonely, don’t you?” I wince slightly as I hear the last words come out of my mouth. That may have been taking it too far.

“That’s a very interesting perspective, Rachel,” he says in a neutral voice. “But surely if you cared about him you wouldn’t be manipulating him into giving you his work when he clearly didn’t want to.”

I let out an exaggerated sigh. “But Professor,” I say, “is it really that simple? Sometimes you need something from someone and you’re in a position to offer a sort of trade, right? A little affection to help get someone off the hook?” I’ve definitely warmed to my audience. This all has to be having an effect.

He sits back and considers me for a long moment, taking me in – all of me. The blush in my cheeks deepens still further as I find myself suddenly a little bit self-conscious.

“What are you doing, Rachel?” he asks. “Why do you think it’s appropriate to act this way? Or dress this way?” He makes a vague gesture.

I draw back slightly. This isn’t the reaction I expected. “Like what, Professor?”

“You – playing the slut to get what you want. Do you think I’m some kid who’ll go weak-kneed if you smile at me with your ***s hanging out?”

“What are you talking about, Professor?” I ask as innocently as I can, my heart beginning to hammer. He seems angry. It occurs to me I could get in legitimate trouble for this.

“What am I talking about?” he asks. “I’m talking about this.” He grabs the loose flap of cloth of my partially open blouse and shakes me by it, inadvertently pulling apart the other buttons in the process. The garment falls open. If it weren’t obvious enough already that I’m not wearing a bra, it’s pretty f***ing obvious now. I look down and then back up at him in shock, forgetting to cover myself.

He draws in a sharp breath as my sudden nakedness catches us both by surprise.

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