Need claws my insides, slithering up my spine. It has been far too long since I’ve availed myself of the school submissives. Pulling out my phone, I open the app that lets us contact them and begin to pursue the latest offerings.
Scrolling through the list, nubile bodies in varied positions flash across the screen. So many to choose from. I frown as I look at some of the older girls. The younger ones are always so fresh, so eager to please. Their gazes are hopeful, full of life and dreams, not sallow and washed up.
Most submissives find an owner before reaching that, but there’s always an exception to the rule. Pretty soon, I’ll have to talk with Dean Anderson about letting some of them go, or at least removing them from The Bordello. As I start to scroll again, a cute, little redhead catches my eye.
Jessica.
I don’t remember her at all. Was I even there for her initiation? Tits like that would certainly stick in one’s memory. Smirking, I pull up her stats. Unowned, great smile, pert ass, and listed as a ‘break me.’ Perfect. She will fit my needs nicely.
Clicking on the schedule icon next to her stats, elation flows through me as I note her next class isn’t for another two hours. That should certainly be enough time. My mouth stretches into a Cheshire grin as I tap the messaging icon.
You are to be in your room in 45 minutes. I want you showered and shaved. Everything. You are to be in the kneeling position at the foot of your bed.
My heart pounds in my chest as I stare at the screen in anticipation. Though I’ve done this countless times, it doesn’t get old. Each time is just as exhilarating. I keep my eye on the icon, frowning as it stays blue for much longer than it should. What the hell is she doing? She’s supposed to answer at any point during waking hours. After a moment or two, the icon turns green, and I let out my breath in a whoosh.
Yes, Professor.
With a decided nod, I pack up the stuff I need for today’s class and head out to my car. Perhaps this is just the thing to get my head on straight. I’ve been far too tense, and honestly, there’s no real need for me to be.
Before too long, The Bordello, or as the regular students know it, Chi Sigma Delta, looms up before me. I park the car and sit for a few minutes. I should be ecstatic, elated, but instead, I’m weary.
I feel stuck in this grind and unable to break free. A wry smile tips up the corner of my lips as I stare out at the building in front of me. I’m not old enough to feel this old yet.
Grim determination fills my soul as I step out of the car. Crossing the threshold, I yank off my tie and slip on one of the mandatory masks sitting in a bowl by the door. Concealed as The Society demands, I exit the foyer and walk into the house proper.
Massive columns rise up, the pale white glinting in the soft, twinkling lights. From the immediate visuals, a casual stranger would think it was a normal sorority. However, the structure is the only thing that they have in common. Decadent silks and fabrics cover the walls, giving the space a soft, intimate look. The furniture, more luxurious than any normal college student could afford, decorates the space with tassels dipped in gold.
Even the structure of the furniture is abnormal. There are no normal couches or seats. Instead, each lounging area is designed with sex in mind. Lifting up the tassels reveals tie-down points and O rings. There are no backs to the seating areas. Instead, they swoop and dip, allowing the girls the ability to lounge, but also the dominants to put them over a curve and bury themselves deep within their folds with whatever member they chose.
A few girls lounge about on chaises and sofas wearing nothing but teddies and robes. If anyone else wandered into here, they'd think they stumbled across a porn set. Chuckling, I pull out my phone and recheck Jessica's room number.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I make it up to the second floor with fluid ease. Knocking once, I wrap my fingers around the handle for a moment, waiting for the tell-tell click of the lock once it registers my fingerprints. Once confirmed, I open the door and ease my way inside. The stark white of the room is such a difference from the warmth downstairs, but it keeps everything even. Every room is exactly the same in The Bordello, ensuring everyone knows where things are. There's no guessing or fumbling about.
Looking down at the floor in front of the bed, Jessica waits for me, her body kneeling graceful and poised, just how she's trained to be. Her head is bowed, demure, her red hair falling in front of her face like a curtain. What happened to the “break me”? A shard of disappointment flashes through me. I was really hoping for a challenge, something to drag my mind away from the mundane that has become my life. Instead, here she is, the picture of submission. No matter. I can still get my rocks off, even if her disobedience would have given me just that extra edge of excitement.
"Display yourself."
Did I imagine it, or did she actually chuckle? My eyes never leave her body as she rises up from the floor in one graceful move. Her hands clasp behind her head as she tilts it back before spreading her legs apart. Glancing down, I see fiery red hair in a perfect landing strip trailing down her slit.
"I told you to be completely shaven," I growl, tugging at the buttons of my shirt.
"You did, Professor." Her lips tilt up in a smirk.
So that's how she's going to play it. Good. Today will be exciting after all.
In a step or two, I’m behind her, winding my hands through her thick, crimson mane, delighted when she lets out a throaty moan. Weaving my fingers tighter, I tug on her hair until her face is forced to meet my gaze. Bright green eyes stare at me, attempting a lack of guile, but I’m not fooled. Her grin splits her face from ear to ear.
Silently, we walk over to the bathroom, her body trailing behind mine for a few paces. The cold, white tile shows up almost clinical under the bright, fluorescent lights. In the shower, I spy the four sets of cuffs and smirk as I drag her over to them. The shower floor is flat, in line with the rest of the tile, with only a small dip inward to let the water drain down.
“On your knees.”
Her lips tilt up just a fraction as she looks at me, her body motionless.
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me?”
Again, no movement. So be it. My fingers reach out and tighten around her throat. Her pulse beats a frantic refrain against my thumb: it echoes the pulse in my cock. A growl erupts from my throat as I slam her into the wall, not hard enough to harm her but enough to arrest her breath.
I crook my leg behind her knee and drag her down to the floor. Her small frame explodes into movement as she fights me with all her power. I overshadow her by a good four or five inches, but this hellcat doesn’t care. Her fingers curve like talons and slice at me with a fervor that’s not just playful fighting. The steel of her muscles twist and strain as she bucks and writhes beneath me. Delicious. Grabbing her hair again, I tug hard, forcing her gaze to meet mine.
“Settle, or it will be much worse for you. Don’t make me hurt you.”
Her chin juts up in defiance, an icy smile crossing her lips. Chuckling, I drag one of her hands to the awaiting cuff and then the other. Once her upper body is restrained, Jessica starts kicking out more forcibly with her legs, almost catching me as I make my way down her body. I pry my way in between the thrashing limbs, grabbing them in my arms. On what feels like instinct, she curls them around my back, forcing me in even closer. The minx thinks she controls this situation. I can wait to strip her of that notion.
Her skin is soft and smooth as I skim my palms up her thighs. Pausing a moment, I look at her face before raising both hands and slamming them down on her inner thighs. A yelp escapes without her permission, as I watch the play of emotions on her face while she tries swallowing the discomfort.
Reaching around my back, I grab one ankle, then the other, bowing back against the strength of her thighs encircling my waist. Her kicks resume, but I ignore them. Each little flutter bounces off of me, my brain barely registering the sensation as discomfort. Try as she might, she’s not getting out of this.
I release one leg and instead turn the shower on to her. It splashes both of us, but most of the stream hits her face. For me, it’s refreshing. The cold water invigorates me; however, it’s doing the complete opposite for Jessica. She shrieks as the water pounds against her face. Even turning her head to the side offers little relief. Rivulets of water sluice off the side of her cheek and into her mouth.
I keep a sharp eye on her as she coughs and sputters, ensuring she doesn’t actually choke. With her mostly subdued, I proceed to take both ankles and shackle them into place. Leaning back on my heels, I stare at the wet goddess before me. She’s a vision. The water gathers at her throat and slides down in between her breasts and further down her toned stomach to slide on either side of her hips. She is my own personal fountain. Struggling makes it even better. Her breasts bounce about as she twists and turns. Amused, I sit there for a moment and watch her, letting her feel the enormity of the power I hold in my hands.
I wait a few minutes before taking pity on her. The bucking slows as she lies there, forcing herself to remain calm. Nodding, I reach over and turn the water off, giving her a few moments to sputter about.
“Are you done?”
Reaching in between her thighs, I slide my fingers up and down her wet slit. Oh, she’s more than done. A satisfied smile curls up my lips as I delve into her hot wetness. Jessica’s breath goes from soft and controlled to haggard in an instant. Letting myself play for just a moment, I drag my fingers up to her apex and tap on her most sensitive area. Already her clit is peeking out of its shaft, just begging for my caress. Well, it will have to just wait and beg. Sliding up further, my fingers flick at the soft curls at her mound. Jessica’s moans stop, and she twists and angles her body so that she can look at me. I pause for a moment, letting her think about her actions and try to suss out mine. But she has absolutely no idea what I have in store for her this afternoon. If she did, she would have been a good girl and obeyed me. Instead, she will have to atone for her actions. I can admire her spirit, but a “break me” will always be broken.
In one swift move, I tug at the hair, my eyes never leaving hers. Even now, her gaze widens as the pain spreads through her. She finally understands that I mean business. Good. Now we can begin.
Standing up, I smirk down at my prize before glancing around the bathroom. The wax pot sitting near the sink glows, indicating it is on and ready for use. Perfect. I step over Jessica to head out and barely miss tripping on her leg as she begins her thrashing anew. This will not do at all.
Making my way back over to the edge of the shower, I reach into the crevice between the tile and the rest of the bathroom. A simple push of a button and the cuffs start moving towards the shower walls, stretching Jessica out before me like she’s on a rack. It moves slowly enough that I would have to purposefully hold the button down for much longer than needed to actually stretch her enough to harm her, but she doesn’t know that.
Her eyes widen as she looks about at each limb. Fear vibrates through her body, setting the chains to clanking against the tile. God, but my cock leaps with every fearful whimper that escapes her mouth.
“Please,” she whispers, as her arms and legs stretch taut. “Please, I’ll be good!”
“You had your chance to do that earlier, my dear. Your spirit does amuse me, but you will learn that we are in charge. You can fight and rebel all you want, but it will always lead you down a path that you don’t really want to go.”
Her arms and legs stretch out more, her lower body starting to lift off of the floor. Though she remains silent, her face scrunches up as the discomfort fills her body. I wait to see if she’ll beg some more, possibly give me a few more of those whimpers, but instead, she bites down on her lip, keeping the distressing sounds inside her. Stubborn wench. She is hitting every button I have. It doesn’t matter if it’s knowingly or not; she should know better than to play with one of The Society like this.
Doesn’t she know that she can be really harmed if she messes with the wrong member? Or is it that she doesn’t care? Maybe she is one of the few we should let go to make room for fresh blood. It’s obvious she has a complete lack of disregard for not only us, but her own wellbeing as well. The chains keep sliding into the shower, their links disappearing one by one into the walls.
At this rate, her limbs will dislocate from their sockets before she gives up. Sighing, I remove my finger from the button and stare at her. She is motionless. Finally, something in her brain is preserving her. She’s not in any danger of coming to actual harm, but if she thrashes of her own volition, well, that would be her problem then.
It takes only a step and a half to get back to her side. Her eyes watch every movement, but still, she says nothing. Kneeling next to her head, I reach down, sliding my thumb across her mouth. A tremor of desire flows through me. My balls tighten as thoughts of what I have planned flit about my brain. Her lips are lush and plump under my fingers.
They quiver under my touch. Pain? Fear? Desire? Should I give her a little respite or make her suffer more? My brain is on fire at this point. All I can hear is my mind chanting to make her scream. But I’m a rational, reasonable man. No use actually damaging our toys. Sliding my fingers back over her mound, I’m delighted to find she’s even wetter than before.
Smirking, I bring my sodden fingers to my lips and slowly lick the digits from bottom to top. Fucking delicious. Rising back up, I head back over to the wall, flicking the bottom button to release the tension in the chains, letting her limbs rest on the bottom of the shower. She moves about, testing her bonds. Unfortunately, she can still move; however, her range is far more limited than earlier. Keeping half an eye on Jessica, I head back into the bedroom to grab a pillow. On the way back, I pull a towel out of the cabinet.
“You do not want to test me right now, girl. Raise up your hips without a fuss, or I will tighten the chains again.”
Without hesitation, Jessica plants her heels onto the floor and raises up in a half-bridge-type position. I take the towel and wrap it tightly around the pillow before kneeling next to her and sliding it under her ass. She lowers back down, and I shift the pillow again until she’s about half on and half off. I give her a moment to settle into her new position before running my fingers through the offending hair trailing down the front of her mound and covering her slit. There’s not a problem with her having hair down there. The problem is her not obeying orders.
