Slut U - Midterm

Adventures in Higher Education

Nota Bene: written and hopefully read with tongue firmly implanted in cheek

*

Today was Kathy's first mid-term. It was her Freshman year at Mistress Darkangel's Finishing School for Strumpets, Trollops and Courtesans, otherwise known as Slut U, and she had been working hard under Professor Hardon to make up for everything she'd missed in High School.

After all, being on the Cheerleading squad wasn't the same as being Head Cheerleader. The Head Cheerleader got the experience giving head while the rest of them settled for learning to give handjobs.

She'd even had to go so far as jumping the Class President so his big schlong would break her maidenhead and she wouldn't have to graduate a virgin. Although at the time, he did seem to enjoy it somewhat, so by the fourth or fifth time he came, she was pretty sure he wasn't going to suffer a lifelong debilitating trauma from being raped. But she still had come to Slut U as a relative neophyte.

Especially compared to the Resident Advisor in her dorm, Alice. Alice was a grad student, working on Advanced Escorting and Call Girl Management, with a minor in Dominatrix. She made the others look like Jr. High virgins.

She had been riding her young charges for the last six weeks, insisting they study hard and punishing them if they didn't do their homework. Sometimes she would punish them even if they did do their homework. For some reason, there always seemed to be a line of volunteers.

Who knew there were so many nuances to controlling the testosterone-based life forms who were silly enough to believe they ran everything? Some seemed to come naturally to her, like the ploys to use on a recalcitrant Daddy when he really should be giving her everything she wanted. Those seemed rather universal. However, her Methods and Procedures for Seducing Your Boss class was a real ball-buster. Not that she had any balls to bust, but if she had, the class would have busted them.

It, and the Studies in Autoeroticism class, were the Freshman Flunk-out classes, designed to weed out the inept and hopeless. The Studies class was hard because by the time the class period was over, she was too tired to do the homework. And if she did the homework, she was too tired to do anything else. Jilling off to thirty-six orgasms a day was rough, even if the class did teach a lot of neat, new ways of using all kinds of toys to do it – and even subsidized the cost of the toys for the lab.

Thank Heavens she was very multiorgasmic. Unfortunately, the class rules were strict. She had to come down to the Plateau Level in between orgasms or they only counted as one. Since she had a hard time keeping it under three per, she figured she was cumming at least 100 times a day. And the sessions with Alice didn't count, either.

The Methods class was the immediate problem. She was facing a mid-term exam of epic proportions... one quarter multiple choice and true or false, and three-quarters practicum, where she had to be able to demonstrate all the techniques they'd learned so far.

The True/False or multiple choice questions part she wasn't too worried about, although some were counterintuitive. For example, in the workplace, victims of sexual harassment include men –

a) Never

b) When hit on by a gay co-worker

c) When hit on by a female co-worker

d) B and C

The answer: B – men don't mind being titillated by the sluts in the office but are usually homophobic. Of course, C could apply if the guy was gay, but they usually see the sluts as co-conspirators rather than competition, so that would only be half-credit.

Or, True or False: wearing stockings and garters with no panties is tacky. Answer: False – eliminating the panties makes it easier to be accessible and facilitates using the 'loo.

It was the lab practicum that had her worried. Of the eighteen different ploys they had studied so far, each person would draw four from a bag and then had to role-play the method. She really hoped the "boss" she got wasn't a woman. She was nervous enough as it was without the added pressure of not having much confidence when it came to seducing women. Her Jr. High and High School friends had all been rather eager. Not much seducing was required – a lewd suggestion was about all it took.

And Alice was no help... she was the aggressor.

Kathy hurried into the classroom to find that Professor Hardon had arranged it very much like a corporate private office, from massive desk and chair, to the couch and end-tables, and even the carpeting. All the desks in the room were facing the "office." She slid into her seat in the back corner, next to her friend Dashawna. A quick look at her friend confirmed Kathy had chosen her wardrobe well for today.

The last person to class, the funky little Jewish girl Shlomit – what kind of name was that? Since when did 'peaceful' rhyme with 'puke'? Anyway – she darted to her seat as Professor Hardon rose and addressed the class.

"Now that everyone has cum," he intoned, looking at Shlomit, "we will begin the written portion of the exam." He walked to the head of each row, counting out a number of tests and handing them to the first person. "Take one, don't open it, pass the rest back. There are twenty questions and you will have ten minutes when I tell you to start. We will deal with the practicum after that."

Her test made it back to her and Kathy sat nervously awaiting the signal to start, hoping she would do well. She really didn't want to flunk out of becoming a Slut... alumni....

The professor told them to start and Kathy was exhilarated to find she not only knew the answers, but finished with eight minutes to spare. To keep from obsessing on the practicum, she started daydreaming about next quarter and beyond. She'd heard the two toughest courses during Winter Quarter were Fucking Around 101 and Voyeurism & Exhibitionism – the Same Coin. And Winter Phys Ed could be a problem – Polar Bear Sports. This quarter wasn't too bad. She really liked Skinny Dipping for Attention, but that quarry was going to get cold by November.

There was a rumor you could die from your nipples exploding because of the cold. She figured it must be true... they'd even said the same thing back in Junior High. Phys Ed in the Spring would be a lot better – Streaking for Attention.

Her attention, such as it was, was pulled back to the professor as he called "Time" and everyone put down their pencils and passed the papers forward. The professor collected them all, then retrieved a shoebox from his desk.

"You will line up against the wall, and one-by-one slither – I mean, walk – your way over to me where you will reach in the box and withdraw four slips of paper, which you will hand to me. I will note them and give you a copy. You will then flounce – I mean, walk – your way back to your seat. The four procedures you have drawn are the ones you will demonstrate for your practicum."

"This test is scheduled over two days, so if we don't get to you today, believe that we will tomorrow. Once you have demonstrated your four procedures, you may leave or not, as you wish. Once done, you do not need to come back tomorrow."

"Right then, on the threat of a discipline I haven't dreamt up yet, quickly and quietly line up against the wall as I call your name."

It appeared he was going from best grades to worst, which relieved Kathy and put her a little above the midpoint. Plenty of time to think about what she wanted to do while waiting for the others, and to watch their performances for any tips she could gather on what not to do.

She'd drawn four moderately simple, classic procedures: "Oops! I dropped my pen..."; "Sign right here, Sir..."; "Let me clean that up for you, Sir..."; and "I can trust your judgment."

She was very glad she'd dressed in a micro-mini-skirt, stockings and garter with no panties and a barely buttoned blouse bursting with the bounty Nature had given her. Double-F cup bounty, as the Brits would have it. H, here in the States. And blessedly firm, no sagging over the navel.

"Oops, I dropped my pen!..." would be simple. As easily as she got excited and as much as her labia swelled and pinked-up, by the time she got turned and had her skirt riding up as she bent over, he wouldn't be able to miss her bright pussy with her essence leaking down her thighs. These were all supposed to be seduction ice-breakers, anyway. She just had to demonstrate proper technique. She didn't actually have to get him to fuck her.

Same for "Sign right here, Sir..." A couple more buttons undone and she'd fall right out of her blouse when she leaned over the desk to show him where to sign... and right into his face. If her beautifully big tits didn't daunt him, he was a eunuch.

"Let me clean that up for you, Sir," just meant she had to find something creative to spill in his lap so she could "clean" his groin. Passing was getting an erection. She'd been pretty good in High School with doing handjobs, but the trick was going to be how to be subtle about it. Enough so that he'd be hard before he realized she was doing him. Of course, if Professor Hardon was the subject, it would be even harder... um, more difficult.

"I can trust your judgment" would be difficult. Usually, she'd ask his confidential opinion of whether her outfit looked better with or without a bra. The problem was, none of her bras fit anymore so she wasn't wearing one. She'd have to come up with something else creative....

The professor had been steadily ticking off the students in front of her while she was cogitating and she was a little caught by surprise when he called on her. She put on her best slink and began working her way up to the mock office. The Professor, in the meantime, walked around and sat behind the desk. She had to think fast – an unusual experience for her – but saw Gladys Wintergreen had an open bottle of Dasani on her desk... so Kathy grabbed it on the way by. When she reached the dais she moved to stand directly in front of him, setting the bottle down on the desk as if it were an afterthought.

"Miss Oglethorpe, you are aware that this is an examination," he began. "I have here a list of four tasks you are to perform, but I do not seem to have your signature on this participant log."

"Oh! Sir! I am so very sorry about that..." Kathy drawled, trying to put some Southern Belle on it. "Let me take care of that right away..." She reached for one of the pens in the holder on the desk and as she stood back up, she "accidentally" dropped it far to the side. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw it land far enough away that he was going to get an amazing crotch-shot.

"Oops!" she cried out in faux concern. "I seem to have dropped my pen! One moment, Sir..." She stutter-stepped her way over to the pen, flouncing her tits as she went, making sure she had his attention. On reaching the pen, she angled her ass towards the Professor, widened her stance a bit and bent over while hiking her skirt and reaching for the pen.

Her cheerleader training was about to pay off. Flexibility was never an issue. She glanced back between her legs, bent almost double, as she rippled her buttocks and clenched her pudenda a few times, noting happily that the jaded old Professor was actually staring. A couple more ripples and she slowly stood up, pen in hand.

Bouncing and shimmying her way back to the desk, she was gratified to see that his eye contact was entirely on her breasts. She made sure when she reached the desk to position herself near the water bottle then picked up the ledger from in front of the Professor, who was still ogling her Twins. She signed it, then announced, "Oh, my, Sir! This ledger requires two signatures... mine and yours." She was praying her buttons were as weak as she hoped they were.

She eased the water bottle ahead with her arm as she leaned forward, thrusting her bust out as far as she could as she told him, "Sign right here, Sir, if you would..." – and with a grade-making pop! pop! pop! the remaining buttons flew off the front of her skin tight blouse and her massive mammaries spilled forth, smacking the Professor right in the face.

He was intently sucking on one of her nipples when she spilled the water.

"Yow!!!" he exclaimed as the water spilled onto his pants, coming up from her tits to sit back and look at his lap. "Woman, look what you've done!"

"I am so very sorry, Sir," Kathy drawled her reply. "Please, let me clean that up for you, Sir..."

She quickly moved around behind the desk, pulling her shirt the rest of the way off as she went and bouncing her way down onto her knees beside his chair. He'd already unintentionally done her the favor of pushing the chair back when the water hit, so she had no problem beginning to mop up the water with her blouse. She also discovered that she'd already had an effect on the old man. He was hard inside his trousers.

She wasn't about to waste the opportunity. She fumbled at his zipper as she kept stroking him.

"I am sure we must be very careful to get all this water," she drawled, finally getting the zipper down. She found the fly in his boxers. And the monster behind it.

Who knew a crusty old professor would be sporting a good foot of thick meat, hard and purple and ready for business?

"Oh, my God!" Kathy cried out involuntarily as his huge cock sprang into her hand. Both hands, actually. She dropped the shirt.

"Excuse me, Miss Oglethorpe. Is there a problem?"

"Nofur," she tried to reply with her mouth full. "Efrthngsgud..." She was going to deepthroat this cock if it killed her. Maybe that would make up for no idea how to do the last task.

She did everything in her power to bob up and down on that meat pole, gradually finding it easier to take deeper and deeper. She figured she'd won when she felt his massive ball sack smacking against her chin and she hadn't thrown up. She hadn't quite counted on him cumming. Nor holding her head down as he did.

She had two choices: swallow like crazy or suffocate. She chose swallow.

His spasms slowly subsided and he let go of her head, allowing her to come up off him and get a couple of normal breaths. Then she had a flash of inspiration and a Fuck It moment. She stood up, straddled him, hiked her skirt so he could see her baby bare pussy, grabbed his schlong and sat down on it. All the way.

"Oomph!..." she grunted as she hit bottom, but she kept focused on her ploy. She rocked on his still turgid cock for several seconds – maybe half a minute – before standing up and off him, sitting back against the desk and keeping her skirt hiked up.

"Sir, I know I can trust a distinguished and honorable man such as yourself," she drawled. "I have a question, and I would truly appreciate the benefit of your judgment." She placed a hand right above her mons with a finger pointing down.

"Sir, do you think this is the kind of pussy that a man – a real man – would want to eat?"

The Professor leaned forward and she got her answer... and her A+.

The rest of the quarter looked promising.