The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Today we made the most amazing find at the dig. A wall with a series of intricate carvings, depicting well, nobody quite knew yet, but it looked like some stylised fight sequence or contest. There were no scenes of actual physical contact, which was unusual, but the two contestants were obviously preparing themselves in the first few carvings, holding their heads in their hands and girding themselves; then we saw what was perhaps the aftermath of blows landing, with fire leaping from their hands, heads and bellies. Not real fire obviously; I guess this would be a symbol of a blow landing or something. And then finally the unmistakable carving showing the victor with arms aloft triumphantly, while the loser languished desolately on their hands and knees.

But that was not the best. Buried at the base of the wall, wrapped tightly in oilskin was a pair of gold rings. They had an unusual shape—quite long, almost like an open thimble—and they were completely plain. Yet despite that, quite beautiful.

Even though it was late the Professor and I were still hard at work in the finds tent. This was not unusual. Usually I was trying to impress the Professor with how hard I worked. The position of dig supervisor was coming up and I desperately wanted the promotion. I was ambitious, and this was the next logical step in my career. I had broached the subject obliquely a few times and the Professor seemed amenable. However, I got the impression he wanted some kind of favour—and by favour I mean sexual favour—in return. Of course I could have been mistaken, but the Professor had a bit of a reputation as a randy old goat, and rumour had it that several of his prettier undergraduate students had improved their marks in direct proportion to the number of times his dick had found its way into their mouths.

Of course, no way was I going to do that—I was not that sort of girl. But I wasn’t averse to a bit of harmless flirting to improve my chances. I was, I have to admit, fairly good looking. And I was old enough to handle myself, and would not be as easily coerced as the giggling students helping us with the dig.

Anyway, tonight I was not trying to impress, I was caught up with the excitement of the find. I was documenting the day’s results while the Professor was painstakingly cleaning the rings.

“Look at them!” he said once he had finally finished. “I’ve never seen anything quite like them before. Aren’t they magnificent?”

They really were. He had set them on a jewellery display tray, and they gleamed and glistened in the half light of the tent.

“Why don’t we try them on?” we both said, simultaneously. Thinking back, it was a bit strange – I mean, neither of us was in the habit of wearing any of the ancient artefacts we found, but right then it did seem the natural thing to do. We both chuckled, and then we selected one ring each and I slid mine over my finger. The metal felt strange to the touch, almost cool and hot at the same time, but I put that down to my excitement. After all, it’s impossible to be both cold and hot at the same time, isn’t it? I remember clearly thinking about things I really wanted, my heart’s desire. Of course, what I really wanted most right now was the Professor to give me the dig supervisor post. The timing was not perfect, but for some reason I brought up the subject anyway.

“Have you thought again about the dig supervisor opening?”

As I asked him I suddenly got the most intense pain in my side, so intense I gave a little gasp and had to clutch myself.

The Professor instantly asked me if I was all right, and I was about to reply no, my side was really cramped up, when I realised the pain had completely gone, as suddenly as it arrived.

“It was just a twinge. I’m OK.” I smiled.

“Oh good.” He seemed concerned. “Well, actually I have been thinking about the post. It needs someone with the right commitment and someone who can do what it takes. Can you do what it takes?” I knew what he was implying all right, and I had a brief vision of me on my knees giving the Professor a blow job. No way pal, I thought, and I was just trying to think up a suitable reply when the Professor clutched his side just like I had and let out a grunt of pain.

Well it turned out he was all right too, and we kind of let matters lie for the moment and got back to our work.

Then a strange thing happened. I was working on a diagram of the site and I really wanted a ruler which I had left over the other side of the Professor. As I thought this, the ring glowed hot briefly, and then the Professor leaned over and passed me the ruler.

“Oh, thanks.” I said, somewhat surprised. We both realised I hadn’t actually asked for it.

“I, um, thought you looked like you needed it.” he explained.

It seemed a funny thing for him to say though. I mean, how do you look like you need a ruler?

I had a sudden idea. Pass me the turpentine, I thought. The ring flashed hot again, and there he was, passing me the turpentine.

“You’ll probably need this too.” he said.

Well, there was no way he could possibly have though I needed that. I was working on the dig diagram, not cleaning finds. I pondered the significance of the last few minute’s events, and then decided on my next course of action.

Dance a jig, I thought. Immediately I got a sharp pain in my side, worse than before. It was so bad I had to double over.

“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” he asked solicitously, but I was already recovered and despite the recent pain I was feeling good, very good. I had been half expecting the pain this time—did I mention I was brainy as well as good looking. Inside, I was gloating to myself—I thought I now knew the meaning of the carvings and the significance of the rings.

The wall had depicted a contest all right, but it was a mental contest. The rings allowed you to try and control each other’s minds. Each contestant had to make the opponent do something they wanted. And the winner—well I guess the winner got what they wanted from the loser.

In my case, I wanted a promotion, and since the Professor had no idea what was going on, this was going to be a pretty one sided contest. I had already figured out a bunch of stuff. If you tried to make the other person do something they wouldn’t do, then it rebounded on you, and you got a big pain in the stomach. The pictures had shown that with the flashes of fire. The second pain had been worse, so perhaps it was proportional to the resistance the other person put up—if so that meant the Professor was more likely to promote me, than dance a jig, which was a good sign. On the other hand, perhaps the pains just got worse with each failure. Lastly, if the person did something you wanted, the ring gave a little flash of heat, perhaps so you could tell you were on the right track.

So if I wanted my promotion, I had to nudge the Professor, little by little in the right direction, gaining lots of small victories instead of one large one. With him unaware that the contest was even going on, I could afford to take my time and plan my strategy.

I knew just how to start. The first step was to distract him, and make him open to suggestion. Being a woman I knew exactly what to do. I was no stranger to using a bit of flirting to get my own way. If I flashed him a few smiles and gave him a few glimpses down my cleavage he would soon be seeing things my way. Then I would follow up by touching him on the arm, perhaps letting my hand linger a fraction longer than necessary, making him think I was interested in him. I had done the same thing many times before, and men fell for it every time. Of course, once I had the job, I would still flirt from time to time, but if he wanted any satisfaction he was going to have to fall back on his usual student harem. I have heard I have a reputation as a bit of a cocktease, but that’s completely unfair. If men keep their brains in their trousers they should expect us women to take advantage of that from time to time.

“You know, it’s getting hot in here.” I said, unbuttoning the top of my blouse. “I wonder if the air conditioning’s failed again?” I made sure plenty of cleavage was on show and gave him a full display several times as I bent over my work.

I felt a mild compulsion to undo a few more buttons, but I was expecting something like this and did nothing. I heard a grunt of pain and smiled quietly to myself. No doubt the sight of my breasts had led him to want me to expose myself further, and the pain was the result of my failure to comply. This was a great indicator for me. It was not a sign of him joining the contest, but if anything confirmation that he still did not know what was going on.

Time to turn up the screw. While the Professor’s attention was elsewhere I discreetly reached into my bra and adjusted myself so I looked as provocative as possible. Once I finished I was practically spilling out, and looked like I was an escapee from an Elizabethan costume drama.

I sent a few mental nudges to him to want to see more of my breasts, and felt my ring go satisfyingly warm. During the next few minutes his eyes were popping out of his head as I asked him over several times to discuss aspects of my report, and he talked almost exclusively to my chest.

I hadn’t realised before he was such a tit hound, even if some of this was due to my own influence, but immediately I decided to use this to my advantage. Normally I’m quite reserved about displaying myself – I don’t even go topless on the beach, but I knew that if I let him see more of my breasts he would be like putty in my hands.

I arranged things so we were both working together on a large map of the dig area, on opposite sides of the workbench from each other. I made sure I was frequently bending over to study the map so he was getting a full-on view of my tit flesh.

His eyes were now locked on my chest, and he had stopped any pretence at working. If I ever had any doubts he was a tit man, they were long gone. My breasts were rising and falling gently with my breathing, and I made subtle movements of my torso so that as I breathed in they were straining against the flimsy material of my bra, gradually working themselves out. He watched, mesmerised, as my breasts slowly spilled free.

Eventually the pressure became too much and first one nipple, then the other, popped out. I carried on studying the map, shameless showing off my attributes. I pretended not to notice him staring openly at my nipples, peeking over the silky fabric of my bra, while I chattered away about points of interest on the map.

Now was the time to start nudging his mind into line with my goals. I picked up a tray of artefacts, and moved round to his side of the table.

“Of course, if I was dig controller, we would be working a lot closer together.”

I moved beside him, giving him a front seat view of my tits.

“A lot closer.” I repeated thrusting my chest forward so my breasts were straining to get completely out. To my surprise my exhibitionism was turning me on too, as was apparent by the way my nipples had swelled and engorged. Normally I would not behave in such a fashion, but really, letting someone get a quick glimpse of your nipples was hardly behaving like a wanton slut, was it?

“You would be seeing a lot more of me.” I continued. “Would you mind that, Professor, seeing more of me?”

I moved the tray so my breasts were resting on them. It looked like I was offering them to him, and he stared greedily at my cleavage and nipples.

“Professor?”

“Huh?”

“I said would you mind seeing more of me?”

“Oh. No, no, that would be simply fine. I’d love to see more of them.”

I smiled inwardly to myself at his slip, and pressing myself forward once more managed to finally pop my breasts out from the confines of my bra. I swear the old boy almost had a heart attack as he watched my breasts bouncing freely in the open.

“Oh Professor!” I squealed, pretending to sound embarrassed. “My hands are full and I’m having trouble with my bra. You couldn’t help me get decent could you—I’d be so embarrassed if someone walked in.

Well, I’ve never seen him move so quickly, and I let him have a good old grope as he squeezed my tits back once more into the safe confines of my bra.

“Oh, thank you!” I smiled. “You know the only bras you can get out here are so cheap and rubbish, I have a lot of trouble because my breasts are really big. If we were to work together I hope you won’t be embarrassed if I have a few problems from time to time.”

“Um, no, no.” he mumbled, visibly brightening at the thought of getting regular handfuls of titflesh.

I was pretty sure I had him hooked right there, and was just about to carry on and ask him for the dig position, when I realised my breasts were feeling quite uncomfortable. I guess the Professor hadn’t put them back quite right. I gave myself a surreptitious readjustment, and for a few seconds everything was fine, but then they started feeling uncomfortable again. I spent the next few minutes secretly jiggling around trying to re-arrange myself, but nothing helped. I thought a few times of asking about the supervisor position, but each time just as I was about to ask, my breasts started playing up again. It really was most distracting, and I knew that as long as this was going on, I would be unable to concentrate on pushing him mentally. It felt as if my bra was suddenly two sizes too small, and everything was cutting into me. It was so uncomfortable that in the end I gave up trying to be discreet, and shoved my hand down my bra so I could rearrange myself and relieve the pressure.

If anything it made things worse. My bra still felt much too small, but now my breasts were itching terribly where I had touched them. If I could just get them out into the open, I knew everything would be all right. But of course I couldn’t, not with the Professor there. The straps were cutting in everywhere now, and the itch was almost unbearable. I thought I was going to have to leave the room and change my bra, but if I did that, I would have lost my opportunity to coerce the Professor into giving me the job.

It was then that I realised I was going about the problem the wrong way. I shouldn’t really be worrying about the Professor seeing my assets – after all, I had given him a good eyeful just a few minutes ago. And with proper use of the ring I could make him think what I wanted. I had to be careful though. My first thought had been to make him ignore the fact my breasts would be visible, but that would have been the wrong thing to do. He was a tit-man, you see, and would have fought mentally against a command like that. No, the right suggestion would be to make him thing I was the kind of girl who liked to get her tits out and show them off. That way he could look at them to his hearts content and not suspect he was being controlled.

I pushed with my mind, and when I felt my ring glow with heat, knew I was free to act.

I flopped my tits out of my bra once more, and was rewarded with almost instant relief. It felt so good to have them out in the open. It had just been almost unbearable to keep them enclosed in my bra.

I knew he was staring at my breasts like all his Christmases had come at once, but that was all right. I wanted him to imagine what it could be like if he gave me the job, and I had tricked him into thinking I was the kind of girl who wouldn’t mind giving him a free show now and then. And to be honest I had been so uncomfortable wearing my bra all of a sudden, it was a blessed relief to get some air on my breasts. It was not as though he hadn’t seen them already after all.

Now I could think about something other than how uncomfortable my breasts were, it was time to turn my attention to carrying on and asking about the dig supervisor position. I was just about to come straight out with it, when it suddenly hit me that I hadn’t showed him my pussy yet.

I almost shocked myself with that thought. In the past I have been quite used to showing a bit extra cleavage to get my own way, but I’ve never been such a hussy that I would let a man see between my legs, and I was surprised that the thought had occurred to me.

But the more I considered the idea, the more I realised I hadn’t thought things through properly. The kind of girl who would be brazen enough to show off her breasts would also want to show off her pussy, so the Professor would suspect something was wrong if I didn’t flash him a few glimpses. The thought briefly crossed my mind that it was wrong to be doing this, but then more ideas arrived, thick and fast. When I thought about it, there wasn’t much difference at all between showing off your breasts and showing off your pussy. They were both part of my body after all. And I hadn’t minded showing him my breasts, so why was I worrying about showing him my pussy. I should let the Professor see the whole package. Then he would know what he would be missing if he didn’t give me the job. And it would be totally in keeping with the kind of girl I was trying to make the Professor think I was to flaunt off her body. If I didn’t do it, the Professor might suspect something was wrong, and the best way to win this contest was to keep him ignorant that he was even in one.

With my mind made up, I waited until the Professor’s attention was elsewhere, then I slipped off my panties and threw them into a corner.

I was wearing a pretty short skirt anyway, all the better to show off my legs, so I was ready to show off my charms at the earliest opportunity. I gathered the notes I had made on how I would organise things if I was in charge, and approached him.

“I’ve been making some plans of what I would do if I was made dig supervisor,” I said, “but there are a few gaps. I was hoping you could help me fill a few holes.”

As I said this I contrived to drop everything on the floor. Bending over to pick it all up, I made sure I hitched up my skirt so he got a good eyeful of my pussy.

“Do you think you can help me fill the holes?” I asked innocently, standing back up and handing him my plans. The dig tent had a motley collection of furniture over in one corner, which we used for relaxing in from time to time. I wandered over to the sofa and sat down. I lifted one leg onto the arm of the sofa, opening my legs wide so my skirt rode up giving him an unrestricted view.

It really was quite unlike me to be so brazen, but hey, we were in a duel of power. To the victor went the spoils, and the prize was huge. Having mind control of the Professor was worth bending a few of my standards.

“Take a good look.” I instructed him. “At the plans.” I continued, but we both knew he was ignoring the plans and staring with undisguised lust up my skirt.

“If you like what you see, why don’t you come and sit beside me so we can talk about the job?” I said, patting the sofa beside me.

I was quite surprised by how aroused I was feeling. For some reason, acting as though I was available was really turning me on. Although the Professor was far too old for me I found myself fantasising about sitting on his cock and riding myself to orgasm. After this was all over, I was going to have to get out my favourite dildo and give myself a good seeing to.

From what I’d heard, he was quite used to manipulating girls for his own sexual satisfaction. No doubt he was already thinking I would be another notch on his bedpost, and while it suited me I was happy to play along. I usually found that flirting worked best when there was some touching involved. Nothing too dirty, but I usually found men would cave in if I stroked their arm suggestively a few times. If they thought it meant something more, well, that was their problem.

I leaned forward and started stroking his knee.

“That’s very soothing,” complimented the Professor. “I like a girl who shows some initiative.”

That was just the kind of opening I wanted, and I concentrated on the thought that initiative was exactly the characteristic he was looking for in a job applicant. Almost immediately I was rewarded with a hot glow from the ring on my finger.

“It’s the kind of thing I am looking for in the dig supervisor position.” continued the Professor. I smiled inwardly to myself. This was easy; a few minutes more and the job was as good as mine. I was pleased he felt my stroking soothing but I couldn’t help wondering what his reaction would be if I reached forward a bit more and started stroking his big fat cock through his trousers. Almost immediately I felt guilty about the thought. Here I was thinking about sex when I was supposed to be manoeuvring for my dream job. I must have been going without sex for longer than I realised if I was getting distracted like that. The trouble was, now I had thought of it, I couldn’t get it out of my head. It would be really good to feel his cock in my hand, even though he was a lot older than my usual partners. My dildo was going to need a change of batteries at this rate.

“I bet a girl like you loves to feel a big fat cock in your hands!” complimented the Professor.

I almost fell over backwards in shock that he had actually said that to me, but luckily I immediately realised that he was merely echoing my own thoughts. I would have to be more careful. It was merely a sign of my own dominance of him that if I was going to transmit sexual thoughts to him, of course he would mirror them back.

I was a bit nonplussed as to how to reply though. I was trying to juggle a lot of things now, and it was becoming harder and harder to think clearly.

“Well Professor, that’s very perceptive of you.” I purred, leaning forward and slowly stroking his cock through his trousers. I was feeling very smug with myself at the solution I had come up with. Touching a man’s cock through his trousers was really just harmless flirting, and was no different from, say, pressing up against him during a slow dance. By stroking his cock I was able to hint to him how my I liked the feel of a cock in my hand, while still keeping things low key. Of course, it also had the added benefit of letting me feel his cock in my hand, even if it was through several layers of material, and that was lucky, because the desire to feel some man meat in my hands had been growing in me for the last few minutes, almost to the point of compulsion. Really, it had been most perceptive of the Professor to realise I liked the feel of cock in my hands. That was one of the advantages of older men. They were far more experienced than the men I usually ended up with, and knew what a girl wanted.

I was enjoying the feel of his hard cock in my hands, but to be truthful I wanted more. Of course touching his cock directly was out of the question – that would be sending out all the wrong signals – but there was no reason I had to let all these layers get in the way. I could remove a few without giving him the wrong idea, just as long as I wasn’t touching him.

Quickly and efficiently I undid his flies and helped him slip his trousers down to his ankles. Now I was free to massage his cock through the silky material of his boxers. I slipped out of the chair to kneel between his legs.

I could feel the heat of his cock through the thin material, and knew I had done the right thing. I had a firm grasp of his rock hard cock through his boxers, and was giving him a slow massage through the silky material. It felt so much better handling him through the thin material of his boxers rather than through his jeans. Of course, I wasn’t actually touching his cock with my hands – I’m not that kind of girl.

I couldn’t remember flirting like this before, giving someone a slow wank through their boxers. But then it was getting difficult to think clearly. All I wanted to do was to concentrate properly on giving his cock all my attention. It was so annoying that all these random thoughts kept popping into my head and distracting me. I mean, I liked stroking cock so much that it was inconceivable I hadn’t done this many times before, but when I tried to actually remember a specific instance my thoughts kept sliding away.

He interrupted my train of thoughts with a new offer. “I know girls like you love to look at my cock while you stroke it. Why don’t you get it out so you can see it properly?”

I was a bit unsure, because actually holding his cock in my hands was a bit farther than I had intended to go, and might be sending out the wrong signals. I was still struggling to think straight, but while wanking someone wasn’t going as far as letting them fuck you, it was certainly farther than stroking their knee. My mind cleared for a second, and I was able to place it on the sexual scale. Wanking someone was about as intimate as giving someone a hug, but not going so far as, say, kissing. That felt about right; I wasn’t sure yet about kissing the Professor, but I didn’t mind hugging him, and I sure as anything wanted to get his cock in my hands and pump away. And though I hadn’t realised it myself, now that the Professor had said, I did want to see his cock. I was coming more and more to understand the benefits of an older, more experienced man. He almost knew what I wanted better than I did.

Now that I had made up my mind there was no reason to hesitate, and soon his boxers were joining his trousers around his ankles. As I caught sight of his cock for the first time, I gasped with delight. I know you men worry that size matters, and it does to a point, but we don’t really want some 12 inch monster impaling us – that would just hurt. But the Professor’s cock was just perfect, huge enough to be impressive, but not off-puttingly huge. It was the size I always imagined a cock to be when I was fantasising.

Well, no girl could resist this cock, especially me, and I gazed at it rapturously as I started to slowly stroke it. I could hardly believe my luck that I was getting to jerk off such a perfect cock.

I felt very pleased with myself. A few minutes ago I had been worried that touching his cock directly would be going too far, but that was before I had thought things through clearly. I almost broke out in a cold sweat when I realised how close I had been to missing out on my chance to work away on this perfect cock. In the dim corners of my mind, I knew I should be manoeuvring the Professor to give me the job, but that could wait a while. What was important now was to put all my concentration into giving the Professor a slow sensuous hand job. There was no reason I couldn’t mix business with pleasure.

“I thought you were the kind of girl who likes the feel of a cock in your hands!” complimented the Professor.

I blushed, not knowing quite how to reply. I was glad he was enjoying it though. It would have been devastating if he asked me to stop now. He really was so perceptive, realising how much I needed to feel a cock in my hands, and unselfishly allowing me the use of his perfect cock.

Of course, there was nothing wrong or dirty with helping a man jack off; as I said before, it’s just like hugging really, and I liked hugging a lot. But that didn’t mean he would feel the same – after all not all men liked hugging. I was so lucky to have met someone older and more experienced, who recognised what I liked to do, and was happy to let me get on with it.

I did keep getting a recurring thought that wanking someone was not quite like hugging, but every time I tried to focus it just drifted away. And it was annoying, because I really wanted to concentrate on the job in hand. Really, I liked stroking cock so much that I just wanted to indulge myself for a few minutes, without any distracting thoughts interfering. The Professor was obviously happy too. He had his eyes shut and was making little groaning sounds as I slid his foreskin back and forth.

I was enjoying myself so much that I allowed myself to fantasise what it would be like to go further with the Professor. After all, he had such a perfect cock, wouldn’t it be better to do more than just bring him off with my hands, much as I liked doing that. He was so experienced, it was bound to be an erotic adventure, all I would have to do was follow his lead. I was allowing myself to drift further into the fantasy, when I realised he was speaking to me.

“You are so good at this,” he said, “why don’t you wrap your pretty little lips around my dick and suck me off.”

Well I had no idea he was into such disgusting acts, but I was certainly not that kind of girl. I was about to tell him so in no uncertain terms when he groaned and clutched his side as if in extreme pain. I had the feeling that meant something significant, but I could not remember what. Then it was if a fog had suddenly lifted from my eyes, and I suddenly realised I was squatting between his legs half naked, jerking him off. I had a sudden moment of panic when I realised what I was doing. I had only meant to show some cleavage and stroke his arm flirtatiously, yet here I was pumping away at his cock with my tits hanging out. Events had moved confusingly fast and I wasn’t quite sure how I found myself in this situation.

I wondered whether he had slipped some rohypnal into my coffee earlier and was about to scream the place down, when luckily I remembered what I was doing just in time. I almost broke into a cold sweat when I realised how close I had come to wrecking everything. I was locked in a battle of wills with the Professor, one he had no idea was going on. My goal was to get the Professor to give me the dig supervisor job, and I allowed myself a moment of self-congratulation when I reviewed how clever I had been so far in manipulating him.

I had been so adept at adapting my tactics to the changing situations. And what I was doing to his mind was so subtle that I doubted the Professor could have responded even if he knew what was going on. Meanwhile, little by little I had been nudging him towards my goal of getting the dig supervisor job. I was moving towards my end goal step by step, and had already managed some small victories, showing off my tits and pussy. Now, I had got as far as getting his trousers off and holding his hot cock in my hands. As I stroked away I allowed myself a smug feeling of satisfaction. I knew I had been worried about something a few minutes before, but I couldn’t quite remember what. Still, it couldn’t have been that important. I made up my mind to worry less, and concentrate more on that wonderful cock I was being allowed the privilege of jerking off.

Of course I knew he wanted me to go further and suck him off. But as I have said before, I’m not that sort of girl, and I wasn’t going to do that for him. I’d been brought up to believe only sluts and whores do that sort of thing, and I’m certainly not one of those. Besides, the whole idea was distasteful. Of course, there was nothing wrong with me using the ring to manipulate him into thinking I was that kind of girl. If he thought he was going to get regular blow jobs from me, then the job would be as good as mine. Just let him try it on later though! He would find his sorry ass before a disciplinary tribunal faster than he could breathe.

Obviously I needed to find a way to make him think I liked sucking cock. That shouldn’t be too difficult for someone as clever as me. I didn’t have any qualms about making him think I was going to suck him off just as long as I didn’t have to do the deed itself – I didn’t want the job that badly! The realisation popped into my head that it was the act of putting his cock in my mouth that so turned me off. Obviously other stuff was fine. If I was to say, kiss his cock up and down a few times without putting it in my mouth, then he would get the false impression I was the kind of girl that liked to use her mouth on his cock, whereas actually I wouldn’t be putting it in my mouth at all. I would just be kissing his cock. Kissing his cock would be fine. I mean, kissing a cock is exactly the same as kissing someone on the lips—they are both just skin after all. I was quite happy to kiss him on the lips, so there wasn’t any real reason why I shouldn’t kiss his cock too. Kissing someone’s cock wasn’t sluttish or whorish at all, like putting it in your mouth was. It was just kissing. And he probably wouldn’t realise I wasn’t actually putting his cock in my mouth. He would think I was the kind of girl who sucked cock, and I would have him further in my control.

The more I thought about it, the better the plan seemed. I couldn’t see any flaws. In fact, I really liked kissing, so it wasn’t as though this was going to be any great hardship, it would actually be enjoyable. I realised I was looking forward to kissing his cock.

I lowered my head to his lap, and started to kiss him slowly up and down his length. I’d never kissed a cock before, but I was happy to do that—I mean, it’s not as though I was actually putting it in my mouth. In fact, now I was doing it, I knew kissing a cock was much better than kissing someone on the lips. I hadn’t realised how good it made me feel, but now I did, I didn’t want to stop. I couldn’t believe how silly I had been, to be denying myself this pleasure all this long. I had allowed my prudishness to interfere with my own satisfaction, which was childish. After all, if I had ever taken the time to think it out fully before, I would have realised that simply kissing a cock was not sluttish at all, not like taking it fully in your mouth. Kissing was just something you did when you fancied someone.

Of course if kissing was good, French kissing was even better. I wondered what it would be like to French-kiss a cock. I guessed it would feel pretty good. Of course, to do it properly you would have to have the cock in your mouth. But that wouldn’t count as sluttish, because after all, you were just kissing. And you wouldn’t have the whole cock in your mouth, just the head, so it wasn’t as if you were taking it all in like a slut or a whore would. Now I had thought it through again, I suddenly realised I wanted to try French kissing a cock very much. If I liked kissing a cock, how much better it would be when I could wrap my lips round it, and really get to work with my tongue.

Of course, wanting to do it and being able to do it were two different things. He had such a huge thick cock I doubted my lips would stretch enough to accommodate him. Still, I wanted very much to try. More, I needed to try. I needed to know what it would feel like to have a huge cock in my mouth and work on it with my tongue. I knew it would feel good, but I needed to know how good.

I put his cock between my lips and pushed forward slowly, letting his thick cock force my lips apart. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be. It was almost as it his cock looked bigger than it actually was. That was impossible of course, because he was huge. It must just be that my lips could stretch wider than I thought. Anyway I wasn’t concentrating on the size, I was concentrating on the sensations I was experiencing. It felt even better than I had imagined it would. The sensation of a hot cock forcing my lips gently apart had sent a pulse of pleasure through me – like the feeling when a cock first enters your pussy – and I could not help a surprised groan of pleasure from escaping. It was so intense that I had to remove him for a few seconds to recover.

I was back on that cock again just as soon as I could. I wanted to feel more of the same. Once more his cock forced its way between my lips and a shudder of delight thrilled through me. This time I was able to cope with the intense feelings, and just sat there a while, savouring the feel of the head of his cock in my mouth.

Slowly I came to my senses and remembered I was doing this because I wanted to know what it would be like to use my tongue on him, and French kiss his cock. Gingerly I reached out my tongue and licked the small fold of skin at the head of his cock. If the gasp he gave out was anything to go by, he liked that a lot. But at the same time it was as if a jolt of electricity had shot down my tongue. It was just like someone had gently started fondling my clit, except that instead of the feelings being centred in my pussy, they were in my mouth. My whole tongue was like a giant clitoris, and every time I licked and fondled him with it, giant surges of pleasure rocked through me.

“Keep doing that!” he gasped, but I could not have stopped even if I wanted to. The more I did it the better it felt, and the better it felt, the more I wanted to do it.

Even through the waves of pleasure though, I was careful to just keep the head of his cock in my mouth. After all, I wasn’t a slut, I just happened to like kissing. Kissing wasn’t bad – everyone kissed. And if you wanted to kiss a cock properly, you had to take it in your mouth just a little bit. Not right in, like a whore would, but just a little bit so you could kiss it properly.

Anyway, I doubted I could get it right in, it was so big. I was surprised I had even managed to wrap my lips round it, it was so thick, but somehow I had managed and didn’t plan to let it out any time soon. Right now I planned to keep on working away with my tongue on his cock until I gave myself a screaming big orgasm. I never knew my tongue could feel like this, like some huge ultra-sensitive clit. Now I did, I didn’t want it to stop. I was taking myself to higher and higher levels and the pleasure was now so intense it was almost painful. I had to have release, or I would go mad. I was working my way to a peak, and knew there was only moments to go until I was going to push myself over into the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced.

Suddenly, awfully, the pleasure stopped and my tongue was a tongue again. I almost sobbed with frustration. I started licking and sucking frantically at his cock to try and recapture the feeling, but all that resulted in was him gently removing his cock from my mouth.

“Careful girl,” he chided. “it hurts if it’s too fast and hard. You need to be gentle.”

“Put it back!” I gasped.

“Hey, you really like sucking cock don’t you?”

Actually I liked kissing cocks, not sucking them like some whore or slut, but I was too desperate to split hairs right now.

“Don’t tease me, just let me get back on that cock.” I begged.

“Well, I think if you like it so much the least I can do is teach you how to do it properly.” he said, sliding it back into my mouth. I couldn’t help letting go a groan of pleasure as he forced his way between my lips. I was so lucky someone with such a huge cock as his would let someone as inexperienced as me use their lips and tongue on it. And I was so lucky I had someone as experienced as him to teach me the right things to do.

“You see, for someone like you who enjoys sucking cock so much, you need to think of your mouth as a pussy, only more skilful and sensitive. You can do things with your mouth you could never do with your pussy, and similarly you can feel things with your mouth you could never feel with your pussy.”

I could see the sense in what he was saying. When his dick pushed past my lips it felt like I was getting fucked, only ten times better.

As he talked, he withdrew once more, then slowly pushed his dick between my lips. The feeling of his foreskin rubbing against my lips made me let out a little sigh of pleasure. “There, that feels just like someone entering your pussy, only more intense, doesn’t it? You much prefer a cock in your mouth than in your pussy don’t you?” I grunted my assent – I couldn’t really do much more with my lips stretched around his girth. It was so good that he was older and experienced. I could see now that all my previous lovers had just been trying to get my knickers down and my legs in the air so they could slake their own lusts. The Professor, on the other hand, knew more than I did what I really wanted. I had never realised I would feel so turned on with a dick in my mouth, but I was feeling things now I had never felt before. I hoped he would use his experience to teach me how to use my mouth and tongue properly on his dick, like he had promised he would.

“And your tongue is just like a giant clit, so as you use it to give pleasure to me, you get back the same pleasure multiplied ten times over. When you think how big your tongue is compared to your clit, you can imagine what heights of pleasure you can bring yourself to. Just remember to be gentle – too hard or too fast is too intense for both of us.

I licked out experimentally and nearly sobbed with relief as the familiar waves of pleasure started to crash over me. Once again I started working away at him with my tongue. With such a large sensitive area as my tongue I found myself once again racing towards a climax.

“But that’s just to get both of us ready,” he continued.

To tell you the truth I could not really concentrate on his words any more. Every ounce of my being was focussed on using my tongue on his cock. I think he was talking about my tongue becoming desensitised and moving on to the next phase, but I wasn’t listening any more. He droned on, something about a spot at the back of my throat which acted like a G-spot, but my tongue was driving me wild, and all I could think about was pleasuring the huge glans in my mouth.

He had stopped talking now anyway, and was just groaning occasionally with pleasure as I worked away on his cock. I realised how helpful he had been to suggest I treat my mouth like a pussy. Thinking like that helped me work out the right thinks to do with my lips and tongue. The feeling of a dick entered your pussy always felt really good. But it also felt good to have a dick ploughing back and forth in your pussy. I wanted to try that with my mouth. I knew it would feel good. The trouble is, doing that would mean taking more than just the head of his dick in my mouth. Having just the head in my mouth was just like kissing, so that was alright. However much I wanted to feel his cock pumping into my mouth, I wanted my reputation intact even more. I didn’t mind people knowing I liked flirting, or hugging, or kissing cocks, but I didn’t want people to go round thinking I was a whore or a slut. Still, I badly wanted to know what it felt like to have him fucking my mouth. So far everything he had done to my mouth with his cock was ten times better than the equivalent things being done to my pussy. I had to admit, I did like the feel of a hard cock pistoning inside my pussy. I could only imagine what it would feel like to have a hard cock do the same to my mouth.

But of course, I didn’t have to get his whole dick in my mouth to know what it would feel like. In fact, I realised, I could just bob gently down keeping only the head of his dick in my mouth. If having the head in your mouth was OK for kissing, then it was OK for mouth fucking too. If someone came in the room now and saw me on my knees with the Professor’s cock in my mouth, they wouldn’t think I was a slut. They would know I only had the head of his dick in my mouth and would assume I was kissing his dick. But really, they wouldn’t be able to tell if I was slowly moving him in and out.

Now I knew it was fine to do so, I started to bob my head up and down on his cock. Instantly thrills of pleasure wracked through me. The room was filled with low groans of gratification, and it took me a while to realise I was making them as I rocked slowly back and forth with the head of his cock in my mouth.

I felt a small tinge of sorrow for girls who weren’t as clever as me. They might go their whole life without knowing how it felt to get their mouth fucked. The feeling of fulfilment as his cock slowly slid into my mouth was overwhelmingly good. I needed iron self control to stop myself burying him to the hilt.

Of course, I wasn’t the only one who might need self-control. Now he was actually in my mouth, there was a danger of him losing control, and me getting a mouthful of icky spunk. That would have been totally gross, but there was an easy solution to that problem. Concentrating hard I used the ring to command him to only orgasm once I allowed him. I felt the hot flash, and knew the command had taken.

Now I could concentrate on that cock in my mouth without any other worries. Just as long as I only took in the head, I could bob up and down to my heart’s content.

I suppose it was possible that occasionally I went a little too far and took in a bit too much cock. It was an accident though, so it didn’t count. You couldn’t call someone a slut just because they accidentally went a few millimetres further than some imaginary line.

God, it felt good when I did though. The more of his cock I got in my mouth, the better it felt. I wanted my whole mouth filled with cock. I knew that most girls would have succumbed to the sensations by now, but they didn’t have as much willpower as me. Sure, I might be taking in a tiny bit more cock than just the head, but not as much as weaker-willed girls would in the same situation. Anyway, it wasn’t fair to call someone a slut just because in the throes of passion they took in a centimetre more cock than they should, or even two centimetres.

And besides, what were the chances that someone would walk into the room at just the right time to see anything anyway. Most of the time I only had the head of his cock in my mouth anyway, or perhaps another two to three inches at most. It was unfair to expect me to stop there; I wanted more than anything to feel his huge cock completely filling my mouth. I needed to know how much of his length I could take. So far, the more I swallowed, the better it felt. I needed to know how it felt when my whole mouth was filled with cock and I couldn’t take a millimetre more. The next time I went down, I carried on going. It wasn’t as if I was losing my resolve by doing this. After all, I was just doing it once, just so I knew what it felt like. Just once, that was all. It’s not like I was some whore who had to keep filling her mouth with cock time and time again. I was still moving down, inch by slow inch. After all, if I was only going to do it once, I wanted to savour the feelings properly. Anyway, I didn’t know if I could go much faster. The sensations increased exponentially the further I went, and there was only so much I could take at a time. It felt like firecrackers were going off in my body. He was so big, I knew I could never fit him all in. But a girl didn’t get the privilege of servicing such a huge dick that often, so it was important to grab the opportunity while I could.

As I slid him further in it felt like massive jolts of electricity going off in the pleasure centres of my brain. I didn’t know what was going to stop me first – whether the pleasure would become too much to bear, or whether I would have to stop before I choked. I just knew I wanted to take as much as I possibly could, to have cock filling my mouth and throat while I wrapped my tongue around it. Relentlessly I carried on until my whole mouth was gloriously filled with cock. But I wanted more, and he still had plenty more to give. I didn’t know what was going to happen. There was no more room for any more, but I couldn’t stop now, even if I wanted to. The sensations were too much to bear, but I wanted more.

I’m not sure quite what I did, but somehow I opened my throat and started taking in even more cock. But then everything happened at once. I started gagging and choking, and my natural reaction was to back off and free my throat from obstruction. But at the same time, the instant he hit my throat, the sensations were indescribable. It was like he had found my G-spot, only it was in my mouth. It was difficult to describe how frustrating the situation was. No sooner had I lit of the most awesome sensation in my throat than I was backing off his dick due to my involuntary gag reflex. Desperately I lurched forward once more, but no sooner did the pleasure start kicking off than I was gagging and choking and backing away once more. It seemed as though my unconscious reflexes were designed to frustrate me and I spent the next few minutes bobbing up and down on his cock like a woman possessed. No sooner had I got him down my throat than I found I was backing away and only had the head of his dick in my mouth.

I suppose to someone walking in now, it might look like he was fucking my mouth with his cock. But it just goes to show how wrong first impressions could be. I wasn’t some slut that would shamelessly let him use me like that. It was just that I wanted to see how much cock I could take. It wasn’t wrong for a girl to want to know her limits. And if anyone thought differently, well that just proved they didn’t know how difficult it was to take a huge dick down your throat. If they thought I was a slut because I was having to take my time to get used to the feel of a dick down my throat, well, I’d just like to know how come they find it so easy. It’s only natural to cough and gag with something down your throat the first few times. If they thought it was easy, well, I just think that shows who the true slut is.

I had stopped frantically bobbing up and down on his cock now. I found that was counter-productive. I settled down into slow rhythmic strokes, and as time went by I became more and more used to the feel of his cock at the back of my throat. Finally I became relaxed enough that I just kept on going down, and only stopped once my lips pressed against his stomach. I must admit I surprised myself with my capability to take him all in. He was so huge, my only goal had been to get him part way down my throat, not swallow him whole. Yet there he was, buried to the hilt in my mouth. It was almost as if his cock was a lot smaller than it seemed. I knew that was impossible, of course, it must have been some sort of illusion. Still, it had seemed that no sooner was he entering my throat than my lips were ramming up against his stomach.

To be honest though, that wasn’t the most pressing thing on my mind. Now I had managed to finally swallow him whole, it felt like huge jolts of pleasure were continually firing off in my body. His cock was pressed up against the G-spot in my throat, sending off continuous waves. Each wave was far more intense than any orgasm I had ever experienced, yet I knew was nothing compared to what I would feel when I finally orgasmed.

Of course, I couldn’t stay like that forever – for starters I couldn’t breath. But anyway, now that I had proved I could take him all, there was no longer any reason for me to keep him in my mouth. I started to back off, but he was only halfway out when he wrapped his hands in my hair, and forced my head back on his cock. Well, I think it would be fairly obvious to anyone that I had tried my best to stop sucking his cock. It’s hardly my fault that I am so good at it that the poor guy wanted even more, especially as I had forbidden him to cum. He must have been desperate for release by this time. Anyway, now I had the knack of deep-throating him, it proved fairly easy to continue, and he slowly pulled my head onto his cock time and time again. I knew he must be feeling good, but so was I. When he was right in me the sensations were so fierce I wondered whether I would pass out with ecstasy. Of course, I’m not some cock-sucking slut, so once he stopped forcing me to carry on blowing him, I would of course stop at once. It did feel good though. It wouldn’t be wrong to carry on for just a little longer once he took his hands out of my hair. Certainly not longer than four or five minutes though.

Anyway, it didn’t look as if it would come to that any time soon. He seemed content to carry on plowing my mouth with long, slow strokes. Just in case though, I got ready to clamp his hands to the side of my head in case he had enough too early.

“A girl who is as good at sucking cock as you are needs to be rewarded.” panted the Professor as he slowly buried himself to the hilt in my mouth, “What was that position you wanted again?”

I crowed inwardly as I realised I had won. “Dig supervisor,” I tried to remind him, but it is quite hard to speak with your mouth filled with cock, and it sounded more like a garbled moan than anything intelligible. I thought briefly of taking his cock out my mouth, but that was out of the question. I wanted to keep that cock in my mouth for as long as it was hard. It felt so good in there. And besides, I had won, hadn’t I – everything else was just a matter of timing. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about jobs, it was a time to be thinking about sucking cock. I was loving these new sensations so much I swear that if he tried to take his cock out of my mouth now, I would have used the ring to force him to stop.

I found that the best sensation was to move ever so slightly back and forward while keeping him down my throat. Of course, I couldn’t keep him down my throat the whole time – I had to breathe after all. I found a mixture of teasing his glans with my tongue, followed by a few deep strokes, and some deep throating provided the optimum sensations, and found myself building up to a huge release.

As well as taking my own pleasure, the Professor was also lost in the sensations. He had his hands buried in my hair, and was thrusting his hips forward in time with my movements, grunting enthusiastically. I could tell he was losing any self control he might have had. To my surprise, the feeling of control was as much a turn on as the feel of him sliding between my lips. When he started to thrust his hips in time, the sense of power was intoxicating.

I knew some people would think I was being really sluttish not to stop sucking his cock now he wasn’t forcing me. But really now, I was concentrating on my control of his feelings. Sucking cock was just a means to an end, to get that thrill of control. Of course, the sensations were out of this world, and I have already admitted that I loved the feel of a huge cock filling my mouth, but to say I was doing this for my own pleasure would be missing the point. Besides, it would only be that they were jealous of me. Just because they were not as skilful a cocksucker as me. I didn’t need to pay any attention to the way that kind of person thought. It was up to me how long I sucked cock for, not some jealous prude.

And this was also not for myself; this was also for all the girls he had forced himself upon in the past, sucking their way through college. Now the boot was on the other foot, and he was uncontrollably pounding away in my mouth, forced to give me pleasure. I had mentally forbidden him to come, so there was no danger of him having any accidents in my mouth. I could keep him pleasuring me for as long as I desired.

But now I realised I wanted more. More than the pleasure he was giving to me, I wanted him to realise how I had dominated him, and how he was now totally under my control. I mentally commanded him to slow down, and fuck my mouth with long languid strokes. Almost instantly he complied and the ring gave its familiar hot flare. I gloated to myself at how easy he was to control with the ring.

Of course! That was it! The ring! I could use the ring to end the contest right now. My new found talent at sucking cock had been distracting me from getting the dig supervisor position and winning this one sided contest. But that was before I had truly understood the nature of the contest. The contest was all about power, and getting your opponent to do something you wanted them to do. To win, you had to make them want to do something you wanted then to do. To start with, I had wanted him to give me the dig supervisor position, but there was no reason I had to keep on wanting that. There was nothing in the rules against changing your mind. Really, the Professor needed to be taught a lesson. I was a bit taken aback by that impulse – I wasn’t sure quite how it got into my head – but the more I thought about it, the more I realised I was right. He had been abusing his position for too long, and someone needed to change that. The thoughts came thick and fast now, leading me to the logical conclusion. Someone needed to take revenge for all the girls he had forced himself upon over the years. He needed to be shown what it was like to be powerless for a change. He needed a woman to control him for once, and I would do that. I would show him I was in complete control of his satisfaction. He would be powerless to control his own orgasm, and to show him just how powerless he was I would subject him to the ultimate humiliation and force him to ejaculate on my command.

I wanted him to realise that the time and place of his orgasm was totally up to me and that I could humiliate him by making him come where and when I wanted. I wanted him to know that he had so little control that he would shoot his load while still in my mouth.

I nearly shocked myself with that thought. Up to now I had always thought that getting a mouthful of cum would be completely gross, but really, this wasn’t about me – this was revenge for all the girls he had used in the past. A mouthful of cum would be a small price to pay to show him how little control he had over his own body. And making him cum in my mouth was the logical place. It would show him I was in complete control. There wasn’t any better place.

And even if I didn’t like it, I was doing this for the girls, not for myself. The thought, ‘it’s for the girls’ kept hammering away inside my head. I was right, of course. This wasn’t just for me, it was for all the girls he had forced to work their way through his courses on their knees. To get revenge for all their humiliation, surely I could take a little cum in my mouth. It would be a small price to pay. I couldn’t be so selfish as to think just of myself at this time of triumph.

And who was to say it would be gross anyway. After all, I had never tasted cum before. Before today, I had never thought I would like sucking cock, but now I had tried it I realised I loved doing it. Perhaps it would be the same with cum. In fact, I knew it would be. Although I had never tasted it before, I knew I was going to like the taste and feel of hot cum gushing into my mouth.

I think I had been too prudish in the past, and shied away from even thinking about cum, but now the thoughts tumbled in my head, arriving almost unbidden. How did I know I didn’t like the taste of cum if I had never tried it? What if I really loved the taste? Was I was being too prudish for my own good, denying myself a wonderful experience because of my prejudices?

I was still unsure, but I think I half-knew what I was going to do because I commanded him to speed up, and he was soon mindlessly pounding into my mouth, gripping my head with both hands and fucking my lips for all he was worth. Victory was mine for the taking. I looked up at him – his eyes were rolled up with pleasure as he pistoned into me. Truly there was no point in getting him to offer me a job right now. He was well past the power of speech if his grunts were anything to go by. But that did not matter, because that was no longer what I wanted. Oh, of course the job was important, but there would be time enough for that later. I could have that whenever with wanted. But with total clarity, I knew what I really wanted was to punish him for his behaviour. I was going to force him to blow his load into my mouth, and nothing he could do would stop me.

And it was so easy to get him to do that. Right there and then I changed my mind about what I really wanted. Why shouldn’t I after all. Who said that to win the contest you had to make the other person do the thing you first wanted. That was silly. To win, you should make the other person do the thing you most wanted, and I most wanted him to spurt uncontrollably into my eager mouth. The poor sap. He didn’t even realise we were duelling each other – all he was thinking about was burying his cock down my throat, but each thrust was bringing him closer and closer to losing his load, and losing the contest.

Savouring the moment, I used the full force of the ring to command him to cum as hard as he could in my mouth. He had no way of resisting, and my ring flared hotter than ever to let me know my reward was on its way.

I felt his cock swell, stretching my mouth wider, and then a huge pulse ripple down its length. A jet of hot cum blasted the back of my throat, and my mouth was instantly full of hot salty liquid. I tried to swallow it down, but I could tell from his swelling cock another load was on its way, and knew I would not be able to keep up. He pumped out a second huge load but my mouth was already full of cock and cum. I felt it spurting out between my lips and his cock and dripping down my chin.

As he spurted into my mouth a third and fourth time I managed to swallow some, but the amount he was producing was prodigious. Thick ropes of spunk drooled down my face and dripped down onto my tits. Still he kept coming, and time after time I felt his cock swell in my mouth and pump out another load of spunk. I did not know how much of this was due to my skills at cocksucking, or how much was due to the influence of the ring. Either way, the realisation of the power and control I had over him was the ultimate turn on, and I felt myself unexpectedly responding with an orgasm of my own. By now the lower part of my face was a river of cum flowing out of my mouth and still he was pumping out more. As each hot jet hit the back of my mouth another orgasmic shudder thrilled through me. I could not help myself from grunting and groaning with pleasure. Each spurt was driving me higher and higher until my orgasmic spasms were so intense they were almost unbearable. I was torn between wanting him to stop, and wanting him to carry on.

Eventually even he could produce no more, and my sensitised lips could tell his cock had stopped swelling and pumping. I stayed still with his cock in my mouth for a while, as the sensations in me slowly died away, then fell back to the floor, exhausted. The Professor stood above me, holding his dick in his hands with a satisfied look on his face. If only he knew the full significance of losing control in my mouth, he wouldn’t be pleased at all. The ring flared one last time, signalling I had won the duel, then slid off my finger and rolled to the floor. I smiled to myself. Now the Professor was mine to command. I savoured the moment and made my plans.

That was a week ago, and the Professor is still under my control. The events of that night had awoken something sexually inside me, and I was going to explore it to the full. I once read somewhere that the more sex you get, the more you want, and I think there must be some truth to that. Certainly I was feeling incredibly horny practically the whole time and was using the Professor to service my needs pretty much constantly. I hoped the old goat would be able to keep going; after all, he was over fifty. Anyway, up to now he was certainly keeping ‘up’ to my expectations.

You know, there is something quite erotic about having control of another person without them knowing. You don’t have to care too much for their wants and needs, you just make them think that your desires are their desires. Of course, it would not be fair to be totally selfish. I knew the Professor was a tit man, so I made sure I dressed so that my considerable assets were bursting out as much as was decently possible. And when we were working in his tent, I made sure I had plenty of ‘spillage’ accidents he could help me with.

As for me, I had discovered my biggest turn on was the sense of power I got once I had his cock in my mouth. Pretty much whenever we were alone I would drop to my knees in front of him and wait hungrily for his cock.

Then I would wrap my lips around it, and force him to fuck my mouth until he could hold out no longer, blowing his load down my throat. Perhaps you might think I was getting a bit obsessed with cock sucking, but I put it down to my late start. I was definitely making up for lost time. I had his cock in my mouth pretty much as often as he could get hard.

Occasionally I’d feel like something a bit more strenuous. I never bothered wearing panties any more, so if I wanted to be fucked it was easy to bend over one of the workbenches, hike my dress up, and get him to pump me vigorously from behind.

Obviously I can’t expect the poor guy to be hard the whole time; after all, he is twenty years older than me. While I wait for him, I’m quite happy lying on the sofa with my skirt up round my waist and my tits out, keeping myself on the boil by playing with my pussy and nipples. There is a double benefit doing this. It turns the Professor on watching me wanking away, so he gets harder much quicker.

I haven’t bothered getting the Professor to make me dig supervisor. After all, I can make him do that whenever I want. Right now I am far too busy getting my rocks off and sucking cock to have time for anything else.

One thing bothers me. The last carving shows the victor wearing the ring, not the loser. I’ll bet the carver got punished big time for that mistake.

THE END