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Professor Sanderson

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Professor SandersonThe little bitch had started coming on to him almost from the first class. Giving him those doe-eyed looks, the sly smiles, sitting there with his legs spread wide apart so Professor Sanderson could see his hard boy-meat. And he continued do so up until mid-terms. But, even though the little bitch had been outrageously flirting with Professor Sanderson from his front row seat, he had also been careful to never actually approach the man, to give his professor any opening to act on the boy’s obvious come-ons. In short, the boy was playing the part of a calculating prick-tease. But unfortunately for Maxwell Malone, Professor Sanderson had seen it all before and he completely understood the game the boy was playing. The boy obviously knew the professor was gay and had probably heard rumors that he liked college-boy ass and so he figured that he’d flirt with the man, come on to him, and guarantee himself a good grade without ever having to actually do anything, to offer anything up, to put anything on the line. Maxwell Malone didn’t realize it, but he was making a big mistake.Professor Sanderson had seen this ploy many times before. Frequently, when he wasn’t sexually attracted to the student, he’d just ignore it. But, with someone like Maxwell Malone, a boy who actually did sexually interest him, Professor Sanderson played his own game – one that he invariably won. Sanderson wasn’t surprised when the boy approached him after he had returned the mid-terms. After all, the boy’s exam had been marked with a brilliant red “F,” the only failing grade that Sanderson had handed out in the course. It was obvious that the boy was agitated when he approached him after class, but Sanderson put him off, telling Malone that he had an important meeting he had to attend. “However,” he added, “I will be in my office at 6:00 p.m. If you want, you can come by then and we can discuss your grade.” An obviously distraught Maxwell Malone told Professor Sanderson that he would be there.And he was. He was standing outside the door, waiting for Sanderson when the professor finally showed up at 6:30 p.m. “Sorry, Mr. Malone,” Sanderson offered as he unlocked the door, “but I was unavoidably delayed.” Of course, neither part of that excuse was truthful – Sanderson was neither sorry nor had he been unavoidably delayed – he’d intentionally arrived a half-hour after the agreed upon time just to increase the boy’s nervousness. Once inside his office, though, Professor Sanderson was all business. He heard out the boy’s objections and then, with the practiced ease of someone who been teaching for years, he’d proceeded to totally dismantle the boy’s test responses. Fortunately for the professor, Maxwell Malone was no great intellect and every one of his essays had at least one flaw in it that Sanderson pounced upon. In truth, Malone’s exam would probably had received a middling “C” if someone else had submitted it, but after Professor Sanderson was finished dissecting it, even Malone felt that it was clearly deserving of the failing grade it had received. As he looked escort ısparta at the clearly shaken boy, Professor Sanderson had to struggle to keep from smiling as he delivered the coup de grace. “Quiet frankly, Mr. Malone, if I were you, I’d seriously reconsider whether I wanted to continue to pursue a college career. After all, not everyone is cut-out for higher education. To be honest, Mr. Malone, I doubt if you have it in you to successfully complete my course.”As he had intended, this final judgment had a shattering effect on Maxwell Malone. He sat there in shock, his eyes glistening with tears, trying manfully not to cry. “There’s got to be something….something I could do. Extra assignments, or special studies or something. I can’t afford to fail this class, Professor. I can’t. My parents….they took out a second mortgage on their house to help me pay for the tuition this year. I can’t let them down like that. I just can’t.”Professor Sanderson affected a sympathetic countenance. “I am sorry, Mr. Malone. I am. But I really don’t know what else to tell you. You’re substantially behind the rest of your fellow students and the only conceivable way you could improve sufficiently given the relatively short time remaining in the semester would be with an intensive tutorial with someone truly knowledgeable about the subject matter. I used to provide that type of intensive instruction myself for students who needed it but I found it was very taxing personally so I stopped doing so a few years ago.”The upsurge of hope that glimmered across Maxwell Malone’s face was almost pathetic. “Oh, please, sir. Please,” he pleaded. “Let me study with you. If you become my tutor I promise you won’t be disappointed. I’ll work as hard as any student you’ve ever had. I’ll pass your course; I will, Professor. I promise you that.”Sanderson looked at Malone intently for a long minute but then shook his head. “I am impressed by your fervor, Mr. Malone, and I’m sure that you meant every word that you said. Still, as I told you just now, I find becoming the tutor for individual students very taxing and arduous. And even if I could be persuaded to take you on, there would still be the question of my compensation. My services do not come without cost and, from what you told me, neither you nor your parents would be in any position to afford a private tutor.”At the mention of money, Malone’s hopeful demeanor deflated noticeably. “You’re right about my parents, sir,” he admitted after a pause. “They just can’t afford to spend any more money on my education. And I personally don’t have much extra money – my part-time job pretty much just pays for my living expenses. But, please, Professor. I’m sure we can working something out. Maybe I can make small payments on a weekly basis. I don’t know. But I’m willing to do anything, anything that I can to get you to help me, sir.”Sanderson allowed a long time to pass before he responded. “Obviously, Mr. Malone, you aren’t able to afford to financially pay for my services – at least not in any realistic time-frame. Wouldn’t ısparta escort bayan you agree, Mr. Malone?”“Yes, sir,” the boy reluctantly agreed, “But, sir, can’t we work something out? Please?”Professor Sanderson leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps we can work out something, boy,” he said, finally dropping his professorial role and allowing his eyes to take on a more feral cast. “Perhaps we can work out a way in which you can provide my remuneration in a non-monetary way.” Then, to make sure that Malone did not mistake the thrust of his comment he stared fixedly at the boy’s crotch.Immediately, Maxwell Malone’s face turned a bright red, making it clear that he’d fully understood the nature of the arrangement his professor was proposing. There was another long pause before the boy slowly replied, “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to help me pass your class, sir. Whatever it takes.” And, having made this statement, the boy reached down as if to pull off his polo shirt. “No, boy. No,” Professor Sanderson stopped him. “I don’t want you to decide right now. I want you to think about it.” Then he leaned forward and wrote something down on a piece of paper and gave it to Malone. “Here, boy. Here’s an address. If you decide you want to go forward with having me as your tutor, you should be at this address at 8:00 p.m. tonight. If you’re not there, I’ll simply assume you’ve decided to forego my assistance.” Then, Professor Sanderson stood up. “Well, boy, I think we’re done here.”It was obvious to even Maxwell Malone that this conversation was over so he simply got up and walked out the door, leaving Professor Sanderson behind, the man’s face suffused with eager anticipation. An anticipation he was still exhibiting when, at precisely 8:00 p.m., he heard a knock on the hotel room door. Maxwell Malone had arrived to tender his first payment.Professor Sanderson ravaged the boy’s ass that night, pounding into it with a vengeance, making the boy groan and squeal as he had a cunt cored out of his asshole, a pussy plowed deep in his butt. After first fucking the boy on his back, he made him get up on his hands and knees and fucked him again, and then capped off the evening by getting his third nut while the former college stud worked his leaking boy-hole up and down Professor Sanderson’s insatiable cock. It was only then, when the boy’s battered shitter was dripping and farting gobs of Man-seed, that Professor Sanderson allowed the boy to get dressed and go home.That was four months ago and since then, twice every week, Maxie – that’s what Professor Sanderson calls his fuck-bitch now – Maxie comes by the hotel room for an evening ‘tutoring’ session. It’s the same hotel room Sanderson has always used for his liaisons – he has far too much experience to be stupid enough to use either his office or his home for these rendezvous. That room has seen a lot of action over the years – as it continues to do with Maxie.Maxie knows exactly what’s expected of him now. He generally arrives fifteen minutes before Professor Sanderson. He strips down immediately ısparta escort and then goes into the bathroom and carefully lubes himself up. Then he returns to the bedroom and removes from his duffel bag the various items he’s now expected to bring to every session – a wooden paddle which Sanderson frequently uses to burnish the boy’s ass before fucking it; the clothespins he enjoys festooning on the boy’s tits and boy-junk, the gag he frequently uses to muffle Maxie’s agonized screams when the session becomes particularly intense and, finally, the cock-cage that, more than once, Professor Sanderson has forced him to wear in between sessions when he’s been unhappy with the boy’s performance. Then Maxie crawls up on the bed, lays down on his back, raises his legs and grabs his ankles with his hands. And he maintains that position, with his now well-used boypussy on full-display, for Professor Sanderson’s amusement when he walks through the hotel room door.Maxie realizes he’s now the Professor’s full-time fuck-bitch. And he figures to remain that way until he graduates next year. It wasn’t a position he sought, or even particularly wanted but, as the months have passed, it’s one which he has at least become used to. His ass and his pussy – even Maxie thinks of it as his ‘pussy’ now – are always sore and his self-image as a strong, independent heterosexual male has definitely taken a severe hit, but there have been a few countervailing compensations. For one thing, he now understands the pitfalls of what he had previously considered to be ‘innocent’ flirtations. And, oh, yes, his grades – particularly in Professor Sanderson’s courses – have improved markedly. All thing considered, though, he probably would have done things differently. But, then again, hindsight is always twenty-twenty. All that, though, is neither here nor there. As it is, in the reality of the world that Maxie now inhabits, Maxwell Malone is no longer a free agent. He still sits in the front row of every one of Professor Sanderson’s classes and he still keeps his legs widely spread apart – though now it’s at Professor Sanderson’s direction rather than his own choice. And the skin-tight shorts that he now wears around campus, the shorts that so obscenely display his now free-hanging junk or, when he’s being punished, his new cock-cage, are the result of another one of Sanderson’s orders. As are the cut-off tank tops and all the other revealing and embarrassing clothes that his Professor now makes him wear on a daily basis. How long Maxie will be allowed to keep his pubes, he doesn’t know, though Sanderson has warned him that, one day soon, he’ll be ordered to shave them off, too, just the way he was ordered to shave off his chest hair. Seemingly, every aspect of his life – his personal grooming, what he can wear, how he spends his free time – are now under Professor Sanderson’s control. Maxie has been forced to learn how to accommodate himself to his professor’s wishes just like he’s learned to accommodate his pussy to the professor’s cock. And all he can hope is that the professor tires of him soon, tires of his pussy and his mouth, tires of fucking him multiple times every week, tires of running his life and degrading and humiliating him virtually every day. But, so far, at least, Maxie’s seen no sign of that. No sign at all

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