All characters herein are assumed to be 18+ years of age and any similarities to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Continued from An Education – Part 2, Professor Jane Hoffman has been ensnared by her desires, relinquishing control of her sexually awakening body to her student, Jerome LaGrange, in exchange for euphoric bliss. Now she needs to know about the hold he has placed on her and how much he knows about the impact of his actions. We rejoin them again in her university office…
“Mr. LaGrange, I have some questions for you,” the professor queried as she looked up into in his big, brown eyes.
“Oh, we back to ‘Mr. LaGrange’ again, huh?” he replied groggily, sleep tugging at his thoughts as he sat in the big leather chair in front of her desk. He feigned sitting up straight in response, preparing himself for what seemed like a serious question, but she was still in her underwear sitting in his lap.
The professor was also still reeling from their carnal adventures. She had just been fisted for the first time in her life, allowing the tall, black athlete to work her ass like a puppet while being force-fed his cock, and now she was resting cozily between his arms in the large leather chair of her university office. The room was filled with the delicious scent of their recent coalescence: her dusty books and his musty gym bag, his hand cream and her deodorant, her spit and his sweat, his shrinking phallus and her tightening hole.
“Sorry, Jay, I’ve just been thinking about all this, and I’ve heard some rumors,” Jane clarified unassumingly, as she turned to face him properly. Swiveling herself around she straddled his legs in the chair, trying her best to put on an air of authority even as her breasts jutted forward toward him, buoyed by the new bra she had recently purchased. His flaccid member drooped off the edge beneath her.
“That right? What kind of rumors?” Jay asked, his eyebrows relaying his newfound interest in her line of questioning.
“Well, to start, a birdie told me that I’m not the only one who’s gotten one of those black toys,” she began, referring to the silicone buttplug embossed with the letter J he had given her the previous week, “and that I should be careful accepting that particular gift from you, as it comes at a heavy cost.”
“‘A little birdie,’ huh? Well, I don’t know nothing about that,” he countered with a shrug, “there’s only one of those and I always know where it’s been. I’ve given that particular gift out to only four ladies, ever, and now you have it.” He raised his eyebrows and smiled knowingly at her, imparting that she should be grateful for the exclusivity.
“So, I’m part of a very select group, is what you’re saying?” she smiled back, then turning serious, “Where are these other lucky ladies now?”
Jay’s forehead scrunched up at the question and he turned away slightly to build the tiniest sliver of side-eye. “Not that it matters, but the first was my long-term girl in high school. She went to FAMU after graduation, and we lost touch. Second was a girl I gave it to when I was a sophomore, she’s still around, I think; we don’t talk much. Last one that had it was last semester. Not sure what happened to her, she ghosted me around finals last year.” After waiting a moment, he added, “Where’s all this coming from? You gettin’ jealous on me, teach?”
“Not at all. I’ve got a lot to lose by engaging in these sorts of things with you, as you can imagine, and if I’m being honest, it’s scary to think about how much this would destroy my life if it got out. Scarier still is that I almost might let it all fall apart if you asked me to,” she explained. “Is that what happened with these other girls? Did they let their lives unravel for you or did you ask them to?”
As soon as she said it, she knew she’d crossed a line. Jay’s side-eye turned hard, and he lifted her off his lap as he stood up out of the chair. Snatching his shorts off the ground, he moved to pick his backpack off the other chair when the professor grabbed his wrist with two hands to stop him.
“I’m sorry, that was too far,” Jane whispered to him, afraid to meet his angry gaze. Dropping one hand she placed it on the shaft of his soft dick, adding, “I’ve just had this on the brain all-day, every-day since you gave me that gift, so I just want to make sure I know what I’m getting into and what being ‘selected’ by you means.” With both hands she gave a gentle squeeze.
Neither Jerome nor his cock responded as he pulled away from the professor and got dressed in silence. The professor leaned back on her desk and watched as he packed his things up and made his way to the door, not having the guts to speak. When he reached the door, he opened it then waited a second before closing it again, pivoting around and approaching the desk.
“I have my pick of almost any girl on campus, but I chose you and this the thanks I get? If you don’t want it, just give it back and I’ll find someone that appreciates it,” he said calmly and quietly, holding his wide hand out flat and flashing a scowl of anger with a hint of disgust as all 6 ft 4in of him looked down on her. “If it’s too much for you, just hand it over.”
His demeanor had shifted, and it scared the professor as she grabbed the black toy off the desk and held it in her hands. This was a clean exit. She could go back to her old life with all its routines and structure. She could push these desires back down deep inside her and resume the lonely pursuit of knowledge once again. She could forget about Jerome LaGrange, the grip he had on her mind and on the girls that came before her.
The plug was in her mouth before she finished the wondered, and in her ass two seconds later. Snapping her thong against it purposefully as it settled in her once again, she stood up straight and faced him.
“Again, I’m sorry, I still want it and I still want you,” the professor declared, but when she leaned forward for an apologetic hug, he turned on a heel and made his way to the door without a word.
Before stepping out of the doorframe, Jay turned his head to the side and warned the professor coldly, “That’s what I thought. Keep that ass ready for me, and don’t ever question me again.”
Jane Hoffman was left standing dumbfounded in her underwear as the door closed behind him. In the quiet stillness of her office a shudder ran up her whole body. Fear flooded her rational mind as she regretted not giving back the toy. The downward tug of the plug inside her felt less like a gift and more like an anchor.
She got dressed and made her way home as the gut-wrenching feeling that she’d turned a dark corner permeated her thoughts. Her mind raced as she tried to reconcile the reassuring and patient Jerome that helped her unburden years of sexual neglect with this new, selfish, and menacing side that flashed through after only a few pointed questions.
That night, for the first time in weeks, she tossed and turned in her sleep; not writhing in sexual fantasy but wracked with nightmarish scenarios. In her dreams she saw her personal, professional, and intimate lives come crashing down, erasing years of her hard work and dedication to academia. Yet, despite envisioning the world falling around her, and all her accomplishments being rendered asunder, the gnawing emptiness of losing Jerome’s attention and desire overwhelmed it all. She slept fitfully, awakening often, covered in sweat.
The next morning Jane got ready for the day with a looming sense of dread hanging over her. As she finished getting dressed, she hesitated before reinserting the matte black plug. The familiar ‘plop’ it made as the base slapped against her sphincter now felt like a warning rather than an invitation; the embossed ‘J’ on the onyx gem a cattle brand, marking her as his property.
Nevertheless, it continued to stoke the sexual fire in her belly and in her thoughts as she walked around with it lodged inside her. While she felt a mix of shame and pride, it was also a constant reminder that she would have to stay close to Jerome to learn more about his intentions with those other girls, as well as his plan for her, so she steadied herself and made her way back to campus.
Jane had prepared herself mentally as best as feasible for any public or private retribution she might receive by the star wide receiver as she started her Psychology lecture, so she was confused when the whole hour went by without so much as a passing glance. Jerome ignored her throughout the class and left silently as soon as it concluded. Then he skipped their standing 2pm appointment in her office.
In fact, he continued to ignore her throughout the week and the next, slipping out of hallways and rooms when they met and refusing to match her gaze during classes. It seemed that her punishment would be neglect.
The absence of Jay’s time, touch, and attention made the professor crave him even more deeply, a constant thirst that she couldn’t quench, but it also had a helpful side-effect: It freed up her time. This was especially useful as she began her formal research into the secretive clique of U of M students centered around exclusively anal intercourse.
At a meeting with her department head, she was surprised to see that the Dean himself had taken a growing interest in her proposal and had found the time to join them in her office as she outlined the project. Dressed smartly in a tight pencil skirt and loose-fitting blouse, her new-found confidence gushed forth as she discussed the details with the men seated across her desk.
“We’ll collect data as part of a voluntary questionnaire and paid double-blind interview,” Professor Hoffman explained. “It will be framed as research into general sexual health among students and neither the interviewers nor the participants will know of the subject matter beforehand. Some interviews will stick with basic questions regarding sexual taboos amongst the student population while some lines of questioning will delve into the lewd behaviors that we have heard already occurring on campus.”
Her gaze alternated between the Dean and the Head of Psychology. They sat perfectly erect in their chairs, staring back at her, mouths slightly agape as they listened intently.
Jane continued, “With some select interviewees we’ll probe deeper. We will attempt to gather any information about the origins of the anal-only scene on campus, the motivations of the participants and organizers, how new students are introduced to the lifestyle, the use of frat parties as a cover for anal-centric orgies, and the supposed use of sex toys for marking sexual partners.”
As she spoke she felt the toy in her ass acutely, tugging deliciously in and out of her by millimeters as she clenched and relaxed. She bit her lip reflexively and closed her eyes for a moment to regain composure. When she opened them, she noticed the jaws of her superiors had dropped even further still, their open maws staring back at her as they sat mesmerized by her every word.
“We will record and catalogue every answer in detail while taking special care to respect the privacy of each student. Then we will analyze and corroborate these accounts to help us build a model of the tawdry group that has formed here. In this way we should be able to collect enough data to get a glimpse into the psychology of how this scene came to be as well as the effect it is having on the student body at this institution.”
“It is my hope that we will gain insight into a perhaps unexplored phenomenon, the reporting from which we should be able to get published scientifically, but at the very least we’ll likely be able to explain some of the sordid and hedonistic behaviours I’ve come across in my casual observations thus far,” the professor concluded, smiling knowingly at the two men seated across from her as flashes of her own recent sordid behaviours scrolled through her memories.
Neither boss broke the silence that followed, and she could see she had the two aging white men by the balls, so she went in for the kill. Leaning slightly across the table towards them, she gave them a peek of perky tits through the top of her blouse as they mirrored her and leaned forward in sync. Darting a quick glance left and right clandestinely, she lowered her voice and regaled them with the user account of Jerome’s previous thrall confronting him in the library and literally begging him to sodomize her in the stairwell as other students watched, adding as much detail as feasible while omitting the identities of all parties, of course. Sweat formed on their brows as their eyes, now as wide as dinner plates, darted between her lips, eyes and breasts; they barely breathed as she recounted the tale.
“We’ll need to move quickly with this,” she said straightening up and standing to indicate the urgency, “because we don’t know if this just a passing fad or something that is having a profound effect on the lives of these students. What do you say, gentlemen?”
“Oh, um, yes, uh, indeed…” the Dean blurted out as he leaned back in his chair and composed himself, wiping his forehead off with a handkerchief. “John, get her what she needs right away,” he directed to the other man as he stood up and hurriedly shuffled his way out of the office. The Head of Psychology followed in suit, adding a ‘Great work, Jane’ as he too made a quick exit, both men trying desperately to conceal their obvious erections.
Professor Jane Hoffman stood behind her desk and exhaled raggedly as the door closed behind them. The Jane of a few weeks ago would never have been able to speak so confidently, or luridly, to any faculty member, let alone the Dean of the college as she just did. Dropping back in her chair the plug in her ass reasserted itself in her mind, and she wondered it less of a curse than she had after her last meeting with Mr. LaGrange.
Even though she still feared what would happen next with him, just thinking about Jerome made her body ache. Slipping a finger under the waist of her skirt she let it glide into wet panties and onto her clit; the nub now as hard as the ones her male counterparts were sporting during their meeting. She had taken to rubbing these aches away multiple times a day in her office, until she could get home and give her ass the massage it desperately needed, but she all the time fell short of the ecstasy Jay had unlocked within her. This constant ache to feel him again was relentless and it was driving her crazy.
At least now she would have plenty of work to keep her mind and hands busy, she wondered. Combined with a green light from above and funding to get the information she needed, it was time to get answers for the questions that kept rattling around in her head since she fell into this rabbit hole with the star football player.
Within a week of her proposal meeting Professor Hoffman had created all her research protocols, assembled a competent team of grad students and TAs to conduct the questionnaires and interviews, and had fully booked all her student participation slots. It turns out paying school kids to talk freely about sex is hilariously easy; all 100 participants were selected within 15 minutes of posting on the Psychology Department research board.
Soon the data started pouring in and with it came a multitude of third and first-person accounts of the sexual escapades on campus: one-night stands (some that evolved into relationships, some that ended them), threesomes (and four-plus-somes), sex while intoxicated (every combination of alcohol and drugs), sex with faculty (some prominent colleagues were hinted at), paid sexual encounters (some students paying, some being paid), and public intercourse (the library was overwhelmingly the hotspot) were described by an overwhelming majority of students across every race, gender and sexual orientation.
As questions started to veer towards anal sex however, while about half of the participants admitted to having tried it, a smaller group responded with experiences that were in line with what the professor had already heard and witnessed firsthand. Curiously, patterns started to form when the students were pressed about some of the specifics of this behaviour on campus.
Heterosexual women, white women especially, were surprisingly forthcoming, providing the most data regarding the rampant proliferation of anal sex at U of M. Their stories confirmed much of what the professor had hypothesized and provided some other pieces of the puzzle as well. For starters, almost all the women confirmed first hearing about this secret group directly from either members of the Alpha Phi Alpha fraternity or by participating at one of their many parties. Secondly, many explained that the frat house itself had a dedicated room in the back used to initiate women into the scene, to share anal sex toys, and for holding orgies. Also, the professor confirmed, every senior member of the frat possessed an object that they handed out to a lady of their choosing, deeming them to be off-limits to the other members: a matte black buttplug with an onyx gem in the base, upon which was etched their first initial in gold. Two women even admitted to wearing one while they were being interviewed.
Many women described, in exquisite detail, the most lascivious accounts of anal intercourse likely ever recorded for science. Reviewing the interview video footage in her office or at home after-hours, the professor found it nearly impossible to watch without pausing; the stories dialled her pent-up libido to ten and she found only temporary relief in rubbing herself as they described their escapades, between taking notes.
With one hand down the front (and sometimes rear) of her skirt Jane watched as Emma, one of the women with an onyx plug, regaled the interviewer with the initiation process for women that want to join AФA’s back-room party.
“First, anyone wanting to go to the back must bring a clean STD test from the campus health clinic, and be wearing a plug,” Emma recounted with a wink as Jane recalled the exchange between Jerome and the student on the wintery quad that initially piqued her interest, and started her own journey, so many days ago. “On party nights a line-up forms down the hall leading to the back, and usually an initiate, or sometimes a lucky pledge, gets the job of standing guard as girl after girl drops their pants or raises their skirt and flashes them some ass-jewelry.”
Emma continued, “Once past the initial inspection, we are led to an anteroom where two junior members explain the test us girls call ‘Riding the Pine.’ This is a test of exhibitionism; since there’s only room for around 30 people in the back, the juniors are instructed to allow only the freakiest girls in. In the center is a long, wooden bench from the Wolverines locker room and along the walls are various sizes and shapes of black dongs, each resting carefully on pegs. We are told to take out our plugs, pick a dildo off the wall, suction it to the bench, lube up, and start riding it while everyone else watches.” A full-body shiver ran up from the plug in Jane’s ass as she watched Emma bite her bottom lip and smile as the interviewer, a shy male grad student, turned beet red.
“That’s too much for some girls and they turn around at this point, and that’s ok, but most of us know exactly what’s up. It’s survival of the sluttiest!” she giggled. “These boys want us to put on a show and only the nastiest get into the inner sanctum. Ten girls fit on the bench at once so some of them like to tag-team it; finger each other, make out, that kind of stuff, while they’re bouncing on their dildos trying to get attention.”
“Me? I would find the biggest, longest dong I could fit in my ass, lube it up and down with spit, pick one those frat boys and stare them right in the eyes while I slowly drop down and bury it all the way inside,” she said, leaning towards the interviewer like she was giving away a trade secret. “The key is to make sure that when you pull it out, it’s clean; they turn girls away that haven’t prepped properly.” Leaning back in her chair, she added, “I get in every time, just sayin’.”