Erotic Series

A, the Hard Way 5 — Achieving the A

Trying is all I demand of my girls; that, and succeeding.

Emily Rogers, who shows more promise as a sex slave than a student, has already earned an E, deserved a D, completed a C, and bagged a B grade for her submission.

“What would I have to do to get an A, professor?”

I believe I could ask for almost anything at this point, and she would acquiesce. But I have a lesson plan, and I’m going to stick to it.

“Balancing concentrated, determined effort with an adequate amount of amusement isn’t enough to guarantee an A, Ms Rogers. The best students are aware of the limits of their abilities and aptitudes, so they can push past them. Your primary aptitude seems to be an appetite for attention, so let’s see what we can do with that. We’ll need Blakemore’s introductory text again.”

She returned the slim volume to the top shelf before she earned her C; she swears as she reaches up to retrieve it and a clamped nipple catches on a lower shelf.

“There will be no more cursing in my class, young lady! Stand in front of the window.”

She does so, but adopts a sullen, slouching posture that’s entirely unsuitable.

“Stand up straight, Ms Rogers, with your feet apart! You’ve done well in this tutorial, you’ve been very brave, and you should be proud of yourself. A strong posture shows that courage and pride to the world.”

She straightens, a hint of a smile picking up the corners of her mouth. She looks like she did at the end of her dragon dildo video, when she was sore and tired but knew she’d achieved something she once thought beyond her.

“Very good! Now, balance the book on your head. If you can keep it there for the rest of the tutorial, you will have earned an A. Is that clear?”

She nods, which isn’t encouraging, but she hasn’t put the book on her head yet. When she’s done so, I stand behind her to begin the final lesson.

“The key to making the most of this tutorial is to absorb, amalgamate and adapt all the individual parts, creating a manageable whole.”

I give her a moment to analyse the implications of that before asking, “Are you ready, Emily?”

Her buttocks clench as she braces herself against what’s coming. “Not really, but I want to try.”

Trying is all I demand of my girls; that, and succeeding.

I reach around to reset the wand to its lowest speed, and switch it on. Emily responds with a shudder and a low groan that nicely counterpoints the vibrator, but the book does not fall.

I rest the ruler against her right cheek, as a warning of what to expect next. “There will only be seven strokes, Emily, and they’ll be gentle ones. Will you be strong?”

“Yes.”

I believe her.

The first three probably don’t match Emily’s idea of gentleness, but they’re not particularly harsh: just sharp spanks on her awful tattoo, carefully timed to underscore my lesson.

“A concentrated and determined application of effort is valuable…”

I ignore her squeals to lean forward and whisper in her ear, “Good girl! Only four more to endure.”

I move the ruler between her legs, for what will be upward strokes. Three will be the gentle taps she hopes for, but the fourth will impart an important sting.

“…but only awareness of the proper attitude to adopt guarantees an A-grade submission.”

The final stroke hurts, in the best way; she clenches her fists and almost doubles over, thrusting her ass back against me. Her actions knock the vibrator askew and smear her arousal on my ruler, ably assisted by me rubbing the polished wood against her dripping lips. But the book doesn’t fall.

“Stand up straight again, Emily.”

She obeys, which allows me to reach the vibrator, reposition it, and increase its speed. I choose to ignore her muttered response for the moment, but I do make a mental note to actually fuck her mother if I ever get the chance and send Emily a video of the event as appropriate admonition.

“Balance is always important. Your nipples have been compressed for long enough; you should balance that constriction with emancipation. Free the nipple, Emily. Take the clamps off.”

Anticipating relief, she hurriedly unscrews the left clamp, and lets it drop. She almost drops with it, but braces herself against the window with one hand. “Oh my god!”

I feel for her. Blood suddenly rushing back into her beleaguered nipple is making it ache unbearably.

She pleads with me through gritted teeth. “Can I leave the other one on? Please!”

“I’m sorry, Emily, but that would be dangerous. Show me how strong you are. Complete your task.”

She does — I expected no less at this point — but she complains, loudly. “They’re so fucking sore!”

I am proud of her, but cursing must still be punished. “You poor girl! Massage your breasts, that might relieve the throbbing.”

It won’t, but the experience will be educational.

Emily kneads her breasts in a desperate search for relief, gasping at the heightened sensitivity as she abuses her liberated nipples.

And still the book does not fall, because I’ve been holding it in place with my left hand. Emily will complete this tutorial; she will graduate from feckless student to fawning submissive.

I turn the vibrator up to its maximum intensity. “Well done, my brave girl. Now, raise the blind. I’ll let peer assessment decide if you’ve done enough to deserve an A.”

She obeys automatically, tugging at the string before I’ve finished speaking, which means the blind is already rolling up as she absorbs the implication of my words.

Fifty or so students — men and women — have gathered on the Commons, and they break into thunderous applause as Emily’s face is revealed.

That’s enough to tip the balance; Emily succumbs to an excess of sensation.

I have to let go of the book as my new girl’s knees buckle. She collapses into my arms, quivering in the throes of a powerful orgasm.

The book falls with her, but Emily has already earned her A.

The captain of the women’s rugby team obeyed my emailed instructions, as I knew she would: she’s a two-year veteran of my tutelage. But Ffion outdid herself, rounding up not only her own squad but most of the men’s as well, to assemble a larger audience than I anticipated. I’ll have to reward her later. Perhaps I’ll give her Emily for an evening.

More from Marsha here…