Tied up in an academic affair

african sexualities, HOLAAfrica, queer women, qwoc, african queer women

By Hadiza Selaboy

“What do you want from me Professor Yetunde?”

She looked into my eyes with the same devilish smile she wore when she announced a pop quiz in class and replied, “I want what you gave Mrs Davis. I want the pain and pleasure, to do what you ask of me. I want you as my mistress, and I your slave.”

I never knew she had it in her. Professor Yetunde is one of the most feared lecturers in my faculty and I wouldn’t have pegged her as a submissive even in my wildest fantasies. She looked anything but submissive.

“Ma’am are you sure you know exactly what you are talking about? Do you know the risks involved? I expect Mrs Davis has told you about my terms and conditions…?”

“Yes she did, I’ll prove my loyalty and obedience mistress. ” She sounded sure.

I could feel my pussy twitching. Since I broke it off with Mrs Davis, our affair was affecting her marriage I hadn’t been with anyone else. How could I? It’s not every day you find someone who’s into the whole Dom/Sub BDSM lifestyle.

So here I was with the most powerful woman in my faculty, who was offering herself to me on a silver platter. She wouldn’t get it so easily however, because I enjoyed the thrill that came with the chase and the games that came with the power to bend the will of my submissive subjects. “Did you say anything?” I asked with the aim of catching a glimpse of hesitation but instead, got quite the opposite. She walked across her polished table and knelt before me and answered, “yes mistress.”

“Good, tomorrow you’ll wear a short black dress with no underwear to class and accompanied by red on your lips to match that dress. Don’t bother tying your hair up, I’m sure you’ll look good wearing it down. Can you do that for me?” After a few seconds of hesitation, she answered enthusiastically, “yes mistress I will”.

***

I wasn’t always a punctual student. I had a morning ritual of karate which I wouldn’t break for anyone or anything. It was 10.15am as I dashed into the lecture theatre dressed in a black polo shirt, ripped jeans, black timberlands and a backpack to match. To my surprise Professor Yesterday was late as well and I began to panic. She was never late to class. Had I gone too far? Did she make a last minute decision to back out?

Five minutes later she stormed into the room looking like a video vixen starring in some high budget hip hop video. In unison the class showed their appreciation and surprise as they chorused woaaw. She ordered the room to be silent. I had never even seen her shape this acutely before as she always wore an oversized suit of some sort. Today however, she wasn’t wearing a bra, an act which showed her perky breasts, small and round seemingly patiently waiting to be savaged. She was slender, not very curvy but still good looking. With her hair down and lips painted red she could be mistaken for being 25 year old student instead of the 47 year old professor of sociology she actually was. As she carried on the lecture she would look straight at me all the while maintaining a poker face.

This was a ritual performed specifically for me a kind of test for my subjects to prove how loyal they were. It was part of a process I couldn’t neglect because I needed it to get aroused. I want what I want and when I got it the reward was always worth it. It was time to reward professor Yetunde for complying to my instructions.

After class I followed her to her office and as I walked behind her I realized how much scrutinization she endured from the scornful stare of her colleagues and self-righteous students who once admired her. I walked into her office and locked the door behind me.

Her empty spacious  office made me comfortable enough to want to fuck her in it. “You look beautiful professor. Now take off that dress,” I ordered and she slowly dropped the lecture pad in her hand and quietly slipped out of the dress. I took about a minute to appreciate the view of her magnificent body, which truly was a work of art and then ran my hands through her long wavy hair and kissed her hungrily ,desperately. She had earned my trust, my love and a reward. I ran my tongue along her slender neck, tracing her collar bone and body down to her left breast. Taking her nipple in my mouth I licked and sucked on it, and as I did this noticed her fondling her right breast.

“Don’t touch yourself, let me do that for you sugar” I said and she immediately placed her hand on the table. While my mouth surrounded in her right breast, I ran my hands over her firm ass. Damn, how was she just 47 years old? I asked myself. With both my hands were placed firmly on her ass, I lifted her up and placed her on the table, atop an array of exam scripts, some of which tumbled to the floor. It overwhelmed me how wildly erotic to be screwing my lecturer on top of the  papers of students, some of which could go missing or get stained with cum juice.

I bent down to eat her out and was met with her pussy dripping wet. I ran my tongue along the entrance of her cunt, trying to stem the flow emanating from inside. Zeroing on her clit went in search of her most immediate point of pleasure, what would make her knees weak. Her moaning was glorious, a melody to my ears and I knew I had found what I was looking for when she began gasping for air. I kept my tongue working inside her until she climaxed in the most explosive manner I had ever witnessed.

With her taste and scent still on my lips I got up and kissed her passionately.

I took out my black silk tie from my backpack and ordered her to turn around and bend, her chest resting on the table, her back slightly arched as I pulled her arms behind her back binding them with the tie.

“Fingers or strap?” I whispered into her ear whilst caressing her back. I always asked because I knew that not every woman was into phallic sex toys.

“Both please, I would like both mistress “

With one hand on her waist, I repeatedly spanked her hard with the other until I saw a red marking then I kissed and caressed the spot with love. Continuing the kisses I inserted her a finger without a warning, starting slowly and then gradually increasing the pace, getting faster and faster till I felt a tsunami of orgasms building inside her. I always loved how some women could experience multiple orgasms. Slowing down a little I let the feeling wash over and pour out of her before increasing the pace until she squirted wetting my trouser leg.

“Let’s save the strap for another day, you look drained and I’m sure you have another class before today.” “Okay mistress,” she replied shyly adding, “I’m sorry about your trousers.”

I untied her and helped steady her as she shook of the markings left by the restraints. Walking to her chair behind the desk I sat and watched her wipe herself with baby wipes, covering every inch of her skin before slipping back into her black dress.

“Let’s do this again but somewhere a little more… private.” I wrote down my number on a piece of paper and handed it to her and left the office knowing I would be hearing from her again, soon.

For more check out I thought she wanted me to be a man and for more on BDSM check out confessions of a sub. Want a little more erotica check out Hey you and Summer Dungeon Nights.

Check out Hadiza as @miss_terious_dee on Twitter and Instagram

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