Professor's Correction
My hands were trembling as I pushed the door to Professor Kane’s office shut behind me. I didn’t wait for him to speak.
“You failed me on purpose,” I said, my voice sharp with anger. “We both know it. You’ve had it out for me all semester. Staring at me during lectures, making me stay back for the smallest things. And now you give me a failing grade? Just admit it. You did this because you don’t like me.”
Professor Kane slowly stood up from behind his desk. He walked around it with calm, deliberate steps until he was standing right in front of me. His tall frame made the room feel suddenly smaller.
“Is that what you think?” he asked, voice low and steady. “That I failed you out of spite?”
“Yes,” I shot back. “My paper was good. You just wanted to punish me for… whatever this tension is between us.”
He studied me for a long moment, then stepped even closer.
“Your paper wasn’t good,” he said plainly. “You gave a basic summary of Freud’s structural model, but you refused to engage with it. You listed the id, ego, and superego like a textbook, yet you never examined the real conflicts between them. You brought up Lacan in one weak paragraph without exploring how his mirror stage theory actually undermines Freud’s ideas. You stayed shallow because you were afraid to take a real intellectual risk. That is why you failed. Not because I dislike you.”
His words hit hard. I wanted to argue, but the way he was looking at me made my thoughts scatter. He took one final step forward, closing the distance until I could feel the heat of his body.
“Does being challenged like this turn you on?” he asked, his voice dropping into something darker.
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Before I could find my voice, his hands grabbed my waist and pulled me firmly against him. His palms were large and warm as they explored my body, sliding up my sides, tracing every curve. He tugged my blouse free from my skirt and slipped both hands underneath the fabric.
His fingers moved higher until they cupped my breasts. My nipples were already painfully tight, pressing desperately against my bra. He massaged them slowly, firmly, squeezing and kneading my soft flesh in deep circles. Then he pinched both nipples between his fingers, rolling them, tugging gently at first, then harder, sending sharp jolts of pleasure straight between my legs.
I gasped, my knees weakening.
He continued that maddening rhythm, massaging my tits while his thumbs circled and pinched my sensitive nipples until I was shaking and panting against him.
“Please…” I whimpered.
Professor Kane smirked, clearly enjoying how easily I was falling apart.
“Please what?” he asked, still rolling my nipples between his fingers without mercy.
“I need…” My voice cracked. “I need… please…”
He leaned down, lips brushing my ear.
“Say it properly. Tell me exactly what you need.”
“I need your cock,” I gasped, my face burning with shame and arousal. “Please… I need your cock.”
“Good girl.”
He kissed me hard, claiming my mouth as his hands continued playing with my breasts. When he finally pulled back, his voice was rough with lust.
“On your knees.”
I dropped down instantly. He unbuckled his belt slowly, the sound sending a fresh wave of heat through me. When he pulled out his thick, heavy cock, I let out a soft, needy whimper. My mouth watered at the sight.
He gripped my hair and tapped the swollen head against my cheek a few times before rubbing it slowly across my tongue as I stuck it out for him. He dragged the hot, silky length back and forth, coating my tongue with his precum in long, filthy strokes, occasionally slapping his heavy cock against my lips.
“Aren’t you such a needy little slut?” he murmured, voice thick. “Marching in here angry and now on your knees drooling for your professor’s cock.”
He finally let me take him into my mouth. I sucked him eagerly, moaning around his thickness while he guided my head with a firm grip on my hair.
After several long minutes, he pulled me up, turned me around, and bent me over his desk. He shoved my skirt up to my waist and yanked my soaked panties down my thighs. The cool air hit my dripping pussy and I shivered.
His belt cracked across my ass without warning.
“Count,” he ordered.
“One!” I cried out.
He gave me ten firm strokes, each one harder than the last. The sharp sting melted into a deep, throbbing heat that made me push my ass back toward him desperately. By the time he dropped the belt, my ass was burning and my thighs were slick.
Professor Kane rubbed the thick head of his cock up and down my soaked slit, teasing me until I was whimpering.
“Beg for it,” he growled.
“Please fuck me, Professor. I need you inside me.”
He gripped my hips tightly and pushed in slowly, stretching me open inch by thick inch until he was buried completely. He stayed still for a moment, letting me feel how full I was, then started fucking me with deep, powerful strokes.
The sound of his hips slapping against my sore ass filled the office. He reached around to rub my clit while his other hand wrapped around my throat, pulling me back against his chest.
“Such a tight little pussy,” he groaned against my ear. “You’re my filthy office slut now, aren’t you? Getting fucked by the man who failed you.”
“Yes,” I moaned loudly. “I’m your slut… I’m yours.”
He fucked me harder, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust until my orgasm crashed over me. My legs shook violently as my pussy clenched around him again and again. He groaned deeply and buried himself as far as he could go, filling me with thick, hot ropes of cum.
We stayed locked together, breathing heavily. He kissed the back of my neck softly before slowly pulling out. He turned me around, gently brushed my messy hair from my face, and gave me a playful, wicked smirk.
“Next time you write a paper for me,” he said, voice warm but teasing, “I want real depth. Challenge the theories. Show me your actual thoughts instead of playing it safe.” He gently squeezed my sore ass, making me gasp. “And next time I won’t be this harsh with you… unless you beg me to be.”
His eyes sparkled with promise as he leaned in and kissed me again, slower and softer this time.
