Introducing Dr. Dalton Ch. 02

I stared at Adam in shock, becoming suddenly very aware of my unclothed state. He looked back at me, displaying similar amounts of embarrassment and fear over what had just occurred.

As a recap, what had just happened was that I'd just had wild and amazing passionate sex with my history professor in his office, and right after we both experienced incredible orgasms, Dr. Goodwin, the chair of the history department, had walked in and seen the both of us naked and sweaty and obviously in the afterglow of an amazing sexual encounter:

Just then, his office door (which neither of us had thought about locking) opened and Dr. Goodwin, the head of the history department, walked in. I screamed softly and buried myself as best as I could, against Adam, while he sputtered and turned three shades of red. Dr. Goodwin looked at the both of us evenly and then turned around and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Awkwardly, I moved away from Dr. Dalton and began to dress, pulling the skirt and tank top I'd put on so long ago earlier that day. I stood with my back to him and heard similar rustling sounds, and when I turned around I saw that he'd dressed, as well. I wasn't sure what to do or say; I knew that what we'd done had almost certainly cost him his reputation as one of the best and most charismatic associate professors in the department, and had likely cost him his job and any chance of a decent recommendation. I moved toward the door, but as I reached for the knob, I felt him touch my shoulder. I turned around, and, looking down at me, he said, "I don't want you to regret anything that we did here. I'm not sorry that we made love, because it was incredible and I loved touching you like that." I gave him a sad smile, nodded, and continued out the door.

As I walked down the three flights of steps of his office building, I came to a resolution. It was my fault that Dr. Dalton was probably going to lose his job; I had a responsibility to attempt at least some form of damage control, even if I didn't think it was going to be at all effective. Leaving Herring Hall, I walked next door to Greystone Hall, which housed the transitionary history department office and Dr. Goodwin's office.

I knocked tremulously at his door; to my surprise, I heard a muffled "come in" from somewhere inside. When I entered, Dr. Goodwin looked up at me with a faint expression of surprise on his face. Knowing that he'd seen me completely naked 10 minutes before, I was sure that my face was the deepest shade of red when I began to speak.

"Dr. Goodwin, I just want to say that I know that what happened between Dr. Dalton and myself was inappropriate. I want you to know that he didn't coerce me into any sort of sexual liaison, nor did he even ask for it. I deliberately attempted to seduce him, and I just don't want you to think that he's ever been anything but ethical and professional in his actions toward me or any other student before today."

Dr. Goodwin had listened impassively to my speech; I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Even though he was the department chair, he still taught a select few undergraduate classes mixed among his graduate courses. I was in one of his classes that semester, a seminar on Gilded Age and Progressive Era politics. I knew that he was aware of my intellectual ability; every assignment that I'd completed in his course had returned with an "A" on it. Dr. Goodwin was one of those men who had obviously been immersed in academia his entire life. He was tall and very thin, probably 6'1'' and around 170 lbs., with silver-blond hair. He looked to be in his late 40s or early 50s; it was somewhat difficult to tell. He wasn't obviously attractive, but yet wasn't unattractive, either.

He studied me for a while, then said finally, "The university and I myself place a high premium on intellectual ethics. The fact that you engaged your professor in a sexual relationship while you were an active student in one of his courses bespeaks a very high level of unprofessionalism on his part, as well as a possible breach of ethics. I'm afraid that even though Dr. Dalton didn't actively pursue a sexual relationship with you, the fact that he engaged in a sexual relationship with a student is more than enough reason to dismiss him from his teaching duties."

My face fell; I had hoped that my speech would have inspired some sort of mercy on Dr. Goodwin's part. I said desperately, "Isn't there anything that I can do to change your mind?" I knew from his face that he immediately discerned the sexual meaning of my words. I was not one of those students who'd ever needed to resort to sexual favors in exchange for grades, and I wasn't sure how I felt about bartering my sexuality.

In his slow, slightly southern tone, he said, "Anything, Allie? Isn't that a bit rash?"

I slowly set down my backpack and sat lightly in the office chair beside his; I shook my head and said, "It's very important to me that Dr. Dalton not be penalized for what I coerced him into doing. I want to make it clear, however, that just as I didn't engage in a sexual relationship with Dr. Dalton in exchange for grades, the same applies here. You're my professor, but I know that I'm capable of earning A's in your class without resorting to sex. I think that exchanging sex for grades is abhorrent and unethical, and I'd never participate in it."

I could see that something that I'd said had pleased him; he smiled at me and then said, "You know, I have to tell you that I admire your principles, young lady. I've been very impressed with the work that you've submitted in class, and I know from class discussions that you're more than capable of earning excellent grades in any of your classes. Since we're in this very unique situation, I suppose that it's no longer glaringly inappropriate of me to tell you that I find you quite attractive."

My shock must have been evident, for he continued, "Yes, you are; don't look at me like that. I know that in a university environment there are scores of tiny blond slut types and equal numbers of big dumb football players; those same dumb blonds tend to crowd into my office hours at the end of the term and offer me sexual favors in exchange for a letter grade or two. Like you, intellectual ethics are very important to me, which is why I've always turned those offers down. There's another side to my refusal, too...I simply don't find that body type attractive. I need to know that, aside from physical attractiveness, that there's a level of intelligence sufficient to continue my interest. And that, my dear Allie, is why I find you so attractive. And so, in light of all of that, I will accept your offer of some sort of sex in exchange for preserving Dr. Adam Dalton's professional integrity."

Still processing what he'd said, I didn't immediately notice that he'd stopped speaking, and he waited patiently as I caught up, regarding me impassively. I slowly nodded my assent. He continued, "Just as a formality, Allie, I want to make especially sure that you know what you're agreeing to."

I nodded again, and he stood up suddenly.

"Okay, then, if you'll accompany me, we'll begin." I was somewhat taken aback by the swiftness of it all, but followed him obediently. We walked outside and around the left side of the building, down the stairs to the parking lot behind Greystone Hall. I followed him to a late-model black Ford Explorer. He beckoned me inside; as I was fastening my seatbelt, he began speaking again.

"I want you to know that you won't suffer any lasting harm from what's going to happen tonight. I've been divorced for three years now, and you represent only the second sexual partner I will have had in that time. In my profession, I find very few outlets for my basic needs and frustration, for after all, the mind and intelligence are most valued in my field, as opposed to strength and physical ability. I discovered very early in my life that sexual dominance appeals strongly to me, and I'm sure that it shares an association with my physical lack of dominance over my peers. You may be shocked at some of what will happen, but I can promise you that you won't dislike it."

I could feel myself getting slightly wet at his words; I didn't know what was happening to me. I knew that I had a submissive side, and I enjoyed being dominated sexually, but my experience with such domination was limited to the fumbling attempts of a few previous sexual partners at holding me down while they were fucking me and the one time an ex-boyfriend had forced me to suck his cock.

Dr. Goodwin had been speaking evenly as he drove; he turned the SUV into a driveway and parked in front of a medium-sized charming red brick house. He left the vehicle without speaking; I did the same and followed him into the house. He led the way downstairs, through a comfortable-looking den/basement and to a door on the far side of the wall. I followed him through the door into a smaller room, which was filled with unfamiliar-looking black leather and silver instruments.

He motioned to a simple black chair and said, commandingly, "sit." I did, and he continued, "you are, for all intents and purposes, my private slut. You will do everything that I tell you to do, and if you do not do it quickly enough, you will be correspondingly punished. Now, stand and remove your clothes." I hesitated slightly, and he said, "NOW, slut," I stood, uncertainly, and removed my shoes, my skirt, and my tank top, leaving only my panties and bra. He pointed to a long, black padded-leather bench and told me to kneel.

I did, and I felt his hands on me, stroking my pussy through the thin black fabric of my panties. He continued to explore me leisurely, his fingers making me increasingly wetter. All of a sudden, he removed his hands from me, stood up, and then I felt the first strike; his open hand fell sharply onto my mostly-bare ass. It stung, and I drew in my breath sharply. He continued to spank me, maintaining a steady pace and pressure. After twenty strokes, I was crying steadily, albeit silently, and he paused, rubbing and massaging my ass cheeks, which felt bright red and as though they were on fire. After a minute or so of this, he walked around to the other side of the bench and looked down at me, smiled slightly, and motioned for me to stand.

I stood in front of him, my eyes downcast. I felt his hand on my chin and he lifted it lightly, until my eyes met his. He had the ghost of a smile on his face as he regarded me. I was a mess; my face was red and tear-streaked and my eyes were swollen from crying (as well as black, I'm sure, from my non-waterproof mascara). He nodded nearly imperceptibly and then spoke: "Very good, Alli. I am pleased with you. You may kneel here and wait for me to come back for you. Keep your head bowed and your eyes closed until I indicate otherwise."

He didn't wait for me to respond, but turned and walked briskly from the room. I knelt slowly, bowing my head and closing my eyes, my mind racing. I had just endured one of the most humiliating experiences of my life, and I liked it! At the very least, it had turned me on severely; I could feel the wetness from my pussy and was sure that I'd soaked my panties at the very least. I could still feel faint twinges from my ass and thighs from the spanking I'd received minutes earlier; with each one, I felt myself get slightly wetter.

I knelt there on the floor waiting for him to return for what felt like forever; finally, after about fifteen minutes or so, I heard him return to the room. I obediently kept my head lowered and my eyes closed; I felt him stand in front of me, and then he said, "Look at me, Alli." I raised my head and my eyes to his; looking down at me, he continued, "The spanking that I gave you is sufficient to atone for any lack of professionalism on Dr. Dalton's part; however, we have yet to deal with your blatant lack of professionalism in your seduction of your professor -- during his office hours, no less! Come with me."

I followed him from the room, back through the basement and up two flights of stairs to a large and airy bedroom. There was a large cherry-wood sleigh bed in the center of the room; he motioned me onto it. When I had situated myself in the center, he joined me there; I was still wearing my panties and bra, while he remained fully clothed. He looked into my eyes for a long while, and then slowly leaned forward and kissed me. His kiss was like nothing I'd ever experienced before; it was raw possession from the moment that his lips touched mine. His tongue thrust inside of my mouth and tamed any rebelliousness that remained there. Suddenly, it was over; I looked bemusedly at him, biting my lip slightly in helpless need. He smiled at me and then laughed. When he'd gotten over his amusement, he said, still smiling, "You may undress me now, Alli." I reached over and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, my hands shaking ever so slightly. I slipped it from his shoulders and dropped it on the floor beside the bed. I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, pulling them down his hips to reveal a pair of blue plaid boxer shorts straining with the very obvious evidence of his arousal. Incredibly, even after all that I'd been through that evening, I could feel my face turning red. When I'd fully divested him of his jeans, I hesitated, unsure of how to continue. I slowly raised my eyes to his, and I saw that my blushing had caused him yet more amusement. I lowered my eyes again, even more embarrassed.

Suddenly, he pushed me back against the bed and lay atop me, every inch the ultimate, arrogant alpha male. He reached around and unfastened my bra, throwing it across the room; slowly, tantalizingly, he made his way down my chest to my nipples and then sucked them, adding fuel to the growing heat between my legs. After a few minutes of this torture, I was moving my hips urgently, wordlessly pleading for release. He seemed to acquiesce to my request, moving again slowly lower, until his face was even with my pussy. He pulled down my soaking wet panties and gently pulled them off, dropping them onto the floor beside the bed. He returned to his earlier position, moving slightly closer to my wet pussy. All that I wanted in that moment was to feel the roughness of his tongue circling my clit; I moved toward him slightly. I could tell that I'd done something to anger him, because his face grew hard instantly. He dove into me, attacking my clit relentlessly with his tongue. Just as I was on the very edge of orgasm, he stopped. I moved my hips in disbelief; he held me down roughly until the tremors that had nearly ignited my orgasm had subsided.

"The point of this exercise, Alli, is not for you to enjoy yourself, but for me to punish you sufficiently for your actions. Your actions suggest that you are a shameless slut, fucking your history professor in his office without even locking the door."

He flipped me over quickly; I felt his had running up and down the length of my slit, and then he slapped my ass, hard, five times rapidly. Because it was still sore from earlier, the spanking hurt like hell and caused tears to well in my eyes. As quickly as he'd spanked me, I felt his tongue licking my clit insistently, leading me back to the level of arousal that I'd lost almost instantly. I felt him slip his finger into my pussy and rub my g-spot; the combination of the two nearly sent me over the edge. Just as I was again on the edge of orgasm, he withdrew his fingers and his tongue and I felt him spanking me rapidly again, seven times before he stopped.

I felt as though I was going to die from the sexual frustration that he'd evoked. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to finally cum.

He turned me over again, and motioned to a wooden chair set away from the bed that I hadn't noticed before. "I want you to go and sit in that chair."

When I'd done it, he continued, "Spread your legs for me, Alli." I spread my legs wide, exposing my pussy and its wetness to him. "I want you to touch yourself for me; rub your clit with your finger, but do not cum. Start now."

It seemed that this was to me an exercise in humiliation. I'd never before masturbated in front of anyone, even though I'd been requested to do so often. I blushed yet again and touched my clit tentatively with one finger. I was so aroused from everything that I'd experienced so far that it took me only a few seconds to touch myself more firmly; soon I was rubbing circles around my clit firmly with two fingers.

It was erotic torture, watching him watching me, knowing that he was reveling in my humiliation, and wanting to cum more than I'd ever wanted it in my entire life, while knowing that I could not.

Finally, after I'd brought myself to the brink of orgasm what seemed like thousands of times, he beckoned for me to join him on the bed again. When I did, he pounced, removing his boxers and straddling me in one fluid motion. I could feel his cock at the very wet entrance to my pussy; it looked impossibly wide, at least 6 inches around. Without preamble, he entered me; I felt every inch of his cock stretching my pussy tight around it; I'd never had a cock that big. He pulled out and shoved back in again, and I drew in my breath sharply. He smiled ferally and said, "you really are a fucking slut, aren't you? You love being humiliated and you loved me spanking your little ass." He withdrew and slammed into me again, continuing, "And you liked touching yourself in front of me, rubbing your little clit with your fingers and looking over at me, begging me silently to fuck you. I bet that you're even going to come around my cock just from me fucking you hard."

I could feel myself getting incredibly close to orgasm; the combination of all of the stimulation that I'd endured all evening, his huge hard cock pounding into me, and his derisive, humiliating tone were all pushing me closer to the edge.

He grabbed my legs, pushing them high above my head and plunging into me even harder. "Go on, Alli, fucking cum on me. You know that you want to humiliate yourself further by getting me and the bed all fucking wet with your girl cum. I want you to cum for me, you little fucking slut."

I felt myself slipping over the edge into the abyss; my orgasm hit me like nothing I'd ever felt before. I screamed his name as I came all over his huge cock.

He continued fucking me, looking down at me with that same derisiveness as he berated me. "I bet you enjoyed cumming all over me, you little slut. Look at you...I bet that if I keep going I can get you to cum for me again."

Incredibly, he was right; as he said the words, I felt my orgasm building again. This time, it came without warning, stunning me into silence, my moans the only outlet I could find for the overwhelming pleasure wracking my body.

He spurred me to three more orgasms with his unique blend of humiliation and sheer force; in the midst of my fifth orgasm, I felt his cock harden even more and then explode deep inside of me, coating my pussy with what felt like a huge amount of his cum.

He pulled out of me, still breathing heavily, and collapsed beside me on the bed. He pulled me closer to him and we lay there for a while, until our breathing had collectively slowed. I didn't particularly want to spend the night there with him, so I was relieved when he slipped off the bed and began to dress. I silently found my panties and bra and replaced them, adding a long t-shirt that he handed me. I followed him through the house and outside, jumping quickly inside of his SUV, hoping that no one had seen my scandalous state of undress.

He said nothing, except to ask for directions to my apartment, which I tentatively gave him. After a few minutes, he pulled up in front of my large brick house, and as I reached for the door handle, he began to speak.