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The impasse dragged on for long moments but surrender was inevitable and she did surrender, she had no choice. She approached the desk, her fingers sorted through the things and her eyes went back to his face.
There were no panties, no bra—nothing but the skirt and the heels and the rope. He read the expression on her face and said, “I am going to put you into a gorgeous harness but you have to get undressed first.”
Sandra had no idea what a harness was but she wanted to find out. More than that, though, she wanted to feel him again, feel him deeply inside of her. Her hands trembled as she undid the buttons on her blouse. Too late she recalled the plain white underclothes but he did not seem to mind, in fact he told her to keep the underwear on.
The skirt he had brought slid over her hips and she stepped into the shoes. Fear had begun to creep into her lower belly, her eyes darted to her door—she had forgotten to lock it. She moved toward it but he spoke again.
“Leave it alone.”
She swallowed hard. The door was closed but anyone could open it. What if they were caught? She was dressed like a tramp with a Peter Pan complex! “It is not locked.”
“I know.” He sounded amused. She risked a look at his face but could not read his expression.
The fear turned her on. That caught her by surprise. It should not have, the idea that anyone could walk in should have had her fainting on the floor, instead it simply made her even hotter, and wetter.
Connor got up and picked up the rope. He flicked the ends of it in a lazy motion that drew her eyes, she stared, mesmerized, as the rope slid through his fingers and then down. The rope was slippery and cool on her heated flesh as he drew it around her chest.
“Put your hands behind you back.”
She followed the order blindly, her heart beating so fast she was fairly positive she was going to end up dead on the floor of her own office in that ridiculous outfit. What would the dean say? Or her father?
The rope circled around her and then he tucked the ends into a clever little twist that saw her neatly trussed, her hands pressed palm-to-palm and her shoulders back so that her large breasts were lifted high.
Looking down at her rope encased upper body Sandra grasped immediately what he meant by a harness. It was lovely and intricate, and it obviously required skill. She tested the bondage by pulling against it but it held tight. That comforted her even as it sent erotic thrills racing into her lower belly. There was something about it, the vulnerability, the helplessness that made her aware of her body in a way she had never been before.
Her pussy was heavy, full. She could feel every inch of its contours in her panties; feel the cotton chafing against her delicate lips there. Her hands pressed close to her back, the skin there was softer than she had realized before, her fingertips gained a hyper-sensitivity as they strained to touch something, anything.
“You are beautiful, but bondage makes you even lovelier, you are the loveliest thing I have ever seen.”
The words made chills crawl down her spine, raised goose bumps on her flesh. His fingers traced her large aureole, outlining them before he squeezed her breasts, kneading them firmly between his strong fingers. Sandra fought to breathe as her legs went weaker than water and threatened to go out from below her. His finger ran down her sternum and then her belly, halting at the top of her panties.
He toyed with the waistband momentarily; just long enough to make her shudder and cry out anxiously in a need she could not argue against then his fingers moved back up to her hair. He tangled his fingers into the low knot of hair she wore on her neck and he pulled it loose from its pins. They rattled as they hit the floor and her hair fell to her shoulders in deep brown waves touched with a glint of chestnut.
His tongue slid across her aureole then his mouth tightened around her nipples as he suckled them one by one. Her legs shook and not just from the unaccustomed height that the heels bestowed upon her.
He withdrew. “Your paper is unacceptable.”
She stared at him, not comprehending what he was talking about. “What?”
“You are a terrible student. We are going to have to change your study habits.”
Had he gone insane? On the heels of that thought, she realized that he was playing a game with her, and waiting for her to join in. She said, in her best girlish lisp, “I did my best Professor. Maybe you just do not appreciate my genius.”
Connor’s lips twitched and she knew the smart assed reply had amused him. “I see. Perhaps you could explain it to me.”
She was at a loss. This was new to her, and while she wanted to play along she was unsure of how. Besides, what she really wanted was for him to fuck her hard and fast. A light bulb went off in her head and she moved closer, forgetting that she wore the heels and could not use her arms for balance.
She tipped over, falling heavily against him. Horrified, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “I throw myself at your mercy!”
His hands caressed her bare shoulders. Electric tingles shot through her body. The ropes tightened as she strained against them, igniting erotic sensations within her being. “I believe disciplinary action is called for.”
He sat down in the chair that visitors usually took. It was tall and without arms. The seat was wooden and hard. She had chosen it precisely for those reasons, it would not be comfortable enough for anyone to want to sit in for long periods.
He pulled her over his knees, her belly pressed against his hard thighs, and her gaze rooted firmly to the floor. His hands stroked over the surface of her spotless white cotton panties then he spanked her rounded ass cheeks gently.
Strong currents of pleasure coursed through her as his hands landed on her firm, upturned bottom. His fingers slipped below the hem of her panties, caressed her labia before easing inside her tight walls.
Sandra’s face rubbed against his well-toned calf and she whimpered as he asked, “Will you get your work done on time from here on out?”
