Alice's Chemistry
Chapter 1

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Reluctant, Heterosexual, Spanking, School,

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - It's verboten for a lab instructor to mess with his students. It takes a special sort of girl to overcome that reluctance.

I noticed Alice immediately. She was the kind of girl one noticed. It wasn't just her shape, although that certainly had a lot going for it. She was fairly short, about 5' 4" I guessed, with the kind of figure that made you sit up and stare. She was slender, almost wasp-waisted, which made her full, very feminine hips stand out by contrast. Above, a set of full breasts balanced the equation. She wore sweaters a lot, the sort which molded themselves to her shape and made you want to bay at the moon. Despite this, she had the look of being tight and solid, a body with an athlete's muscle tone but with the curves of a courtesan. Her hair was brunette, and she wore it falling to her shoulders in soft waves. Her face was not beautiful exactly. One could complain that her chin was too weak, her lips too full and sensuous. She used makeup with precision. Her soft brown eyes seemed to look at you from some deep, unreachable place in her soul. Looking into them produced a sense of disquiet, of something not quite right with their owner. But I didn't find that out right away.

She appeared in my second-year chemistry lab at the beginning of the semester. Apparently she had put it off as long as possible, a not unusual occurrence for non-science majors. Her class card listed her as a senior, which would make her about twenty or twenty one. Chem 2 lab was my last class of the day, meeting at 3:20 in the afternoon. I was the lab instructor, which made me a sort of second-class citizen in the academic hierarchy. If I kept my nose clean and didn't rock too many boats, I could look forward to promotion to Assistant Professor some time in the next few years, and possibly tenure a few more years after that. Things move slowly in the academic world.

Meanwhile, I was a glorified bottle washer. A nine month contract gave me the summer off (with no pay). Being at the bottom of the salary scale, I didn't go out much, so I had little opportunity to meet women. I was surrounded by young women during the day, but one of the absolute no-nos of the teaching business is that you don't mess around with the students. That's often hard; some of them seem to like to hone their skills on their instructors. However, one of the few things which can get you fired, even with tenure is having one of them succeed and getting caught. So although I looked long and longingly at Alice Klemper, that's all I could do.

She noticed my attention. My class consists of about a half hour lecture describing the experiment du jour, followed by the lab exercise itself. The first few days she sat in the middle of the room for the lecture, but I guess I concentrated too much on her part of the room, and she became aware of how often I glanced in her direction. She began sitting in the front row. I must admit my eyes were drawn to her wherever she was. She was that kind of girl. When I looked at her, her eyes stared back at me, forming a deep pool which drew me in until I felt the surface closing over my head and broke myself away with a start. It never seemed to fail.

She favored very short skirts, and every time she crossed her legs I was watching. She was certainly aware of my interest, and went out of her way to draw my attention. My lack of feminine companionship probably showed on my face.

She began to tease me. It became a game; me trying to concentrate on my lecture and Alice trying to distract me and make me stumble. She would sit with her lips pursed in a solitary kiss, stroking them with one finger, her eyes glued to mine, hoping I would look at her. If I did, she would stare into my eyes with her face lowered so she appeared to be looking up at me with a inscrutable half smile. I know what you're thinking, and shame on you, her expression would say. Unfortunately, she was right.

I tried to avoid her eyes, because I knew that once she caught me I had trouble letting go, and my speech stumbled and my concentration went all to hell. When I learned how to do that, she got inventive and raised the stakes. She would drop a notebook and lean over to pick it up, stretching out a slim nylon-encased leg way out where it was sure to get my attention. Or she might just slouch in her chair, sticking out her legs, her skirt indecently high. When I glanced her way, she would be toying suggestively with the hem. Her eyes would lock on mine. 'Want to see some more?' they teased, while one finger slowly stroked the exposed top of her leg. I had the feeling that if I so much as nodded, that totally inadequate skirt might drift even higher, showing off more of her long, bare thighs.

She might hook her heel behind a rung of her chair so it raised her knee (and the front of her mini). She would swinging the knee back and forth, opening and closing the gap. I was pretty sure I could see the white band of her panties in the shadows under her skirt, and spent much more time than I should have trying to determine if I was really seeing what I thought I was. I began to get an erection and had to hide behind the podium to cover my embarrassment. It didn't help; she had seen it, and flashed me a knowing smile, amused by my discomfort. Eventually, once she had my full attention, she would lowered her leg to cut off my view, and grin at me. Gotcha!

Not that I minded. She was a delight to look at, but it did take my attention away from what I was supposed to be doing, which was, of course, the whole idea. She obviously wasn't terribly interested in chemistry.

In the lab, while I was circulating among the students, she would stop me with a question. It was usually delivered in a breathless, bedroom voice, and was usually something inane, like "Oh Mr. Jackson, would you tell me again how many milliliters of phenolpthalien to use. I forget. My head is such a sieve, isn't it?" She would stand uncomfortably close, looking up at me in all wide-eyed innocence, her shoulders back and the tips of those magnificent breasts almost touching my shirt. She may not had known how much indicator to use (which I doubt), but she certainly knew to the millimeter how far her nipples were from my chest. If I let my eyes flick downward from her face, she won.

She almost always won.

Especially when she left too many buttons undone. She knew how often I looked at her chest, and how it fouled me up. She wore things that opened in the front. I knew if I allowed my eyes to drift, I would drown in the swelling sea of flesh visible down the front of her blouse. But I couldn't look her in the eye either. Those eyes...

She loved it when I stumbled over words and couldn't form a coherent sentence to answer her. That was the whole point. She proved over and over that breasts are more powerful than intellect.

Once I was caught, she played me like a fish, leaning forward to give me a better view. She'd fold her arms under them and lift them for me. I caught her doing up her front afterward once. I didn't actually see her do it, but the next time I looked she was all prim again. She was not into giving a show to the class generally; she reserved that for me.

I held office hours after class on Wednesdays and Fridays. This was ostensibly a period when students could visit and deal with their problems in class. If fact, unless I specifically invited someone, it was rare for anyone to show up. I generally used the time for preparation. I was just about to go home one Wednesday when Alice showed up on my doorstep.

"Mr. Jackson?"

"Yes Alice?"

"Can I talk with you? Have you got a minute?" Her voice held a tone which implied more than talk, I thought. She was still playing her games.

"Of course," I replied, "That's what I'm here for."

"Oh, yes. Of course you are. I'm glad. I have kind of a private matter to discuss with you."

"Are you sure I'm the one you want to talk to about this?"

"Oh yes. You're the only one who can help me with this uh, personal problem I have." She all but twisted a lock of hair in her fingers like a little girl. The front of her blouse was open to working depth. What the hell was I getting into here?

"Well, OK Alice. I'll do what I can. Sit down."

She sat next to my desk and leaned toward me, the loose bodice falling away. She liked lace bras, I noticed.

"Thank you so much Mr. Jackson. I knew I count on you. We need to talk about my grade."

We do huh. "Well Alice, you know you didn't do all that well on the last quiz. And your write-ups tend to be a little, shall we say, lacking."

"I know. That's what I want to talk about." Her arms were folded and pressed against the undersides of her globes, squeezing more soft flesh up and out of the bra (just in case I hadn't noticed). "I have to explain. See, I'm not very good at chemistry. I'm really good at some things, but it's kind of like, science isn't really my thing, you know?"

Indeed I did. Next would come a plea for special treatment.

"I have to do something. I mean I need this course to graduate. I wondered if there was something I could do to make up some of the stuff I didn't do so well at. Maybe a special project or something?"

"Alice, I don't know what I can do for you at this point."

"Please Mr. Jackson, there must be something. I'll do anything I have to to pass this course, you know what I mean? There must something I can do?" She paused. "Isn't there some way I can satisfy you?"

So there it was, on the table. She leaned forward more, giving me the full treatment, letting the front of her blouse drop open, in case there was any question. I could have sworn there was at least one more button undone that when she had come in. She caught me looking and pressed harder.

"Really Mr. Jackson, a lot of us girls aren't as good as men at this stuff. It takes a man to understand chemistry like you do." (And real men don't have breasts like mine, do they?) "Could you maybe help me with it? Like, could you give me private lessons or something? I can't afford a lot of money, but ... A classroom is so distracting, but If it was just the two of us, I'm sure you could teach me everything. There's so much I need to learn, don't you think so, Mr. Jackson?"

She had worked her way to the edge of the chair until she was only inches away from me. I could smell the subtle perfume of her. It was tempting, but not at the risk of my job.

"Alice, I teach chemistry. You're going to have to find someone else to teach you what you want."

She looked at me for a moment, watching me stare down the front of her blouse. Her face clouded. "You bastard!" she said slowly. "You rotten bastard. You didn't hear anything I said, did you? Too busy smirking and looking down the front of my blouse. You think I came in here to trade sex for a grade, don't you? Let me tell you something, I don't care if I pass your lousy course or not, do you hear me? I don't give a shit. I don't give a shit for you either, you fucking bastard!"

She swung at me then, a big roundhouse slap which I fortunately saw coming and caught with my arm. She tried again and once again I caught her arm, and we struggled briefly. Her blouse lost another button and gaped open. She saw me looking. I couldn't help it!

"Well you like that, don't you." She squared her shoulders back. "You like to look at my tits. You do it all the time. Well take a good look, it's the last time you'll be able to." Her hands yanked the blouse wide.


"Just shut up, OK? I hate dirty old men like you. You come for help and all you want is to get into my pants. You know what I'm going to do to you? I'm gonna get you fired, that's what. I come in here willing to work hard to try and make up my grade, and what do I get? All you do is stare at my tits. You were going to rape me, weren't you?"


"You heard me." She was pulling her blouse tail out of her skirt as she spoke. "I saw you looking up my skirt. You were going to rape me, but I'm not going to sit quietly and let you get away with it. I'm going to tell everybody. I'm gonna tell the whole fucking world what you tried to do!" She pulled the blouse off of one shoulder and tugged down her bra strap on that side.

"Alice, what are you doing?" She was moving toward the door, so I went with her. She dug inside the loose bra cup and pulled her left breast out into the open.

"You wanted to see my tits, OK, take a good look. Let's see what everybody else thinks about this!" she screamed. "You got more trouble than you know what to do with, mister."

Somehow I got between her and the door. "Let me out of here! Let me go!" she yelled as we struggled. I dragged her bodily away from the door with her screaming and fighting. God, what would happen if somebody heard her and came in now? I tried to cover her mouth to muffle the noise, which put me at a disadvantage against her twisting and turning. She shoved me back against the couch and I sat down involuntarily. She almost got away them, But I managed to hold onto one arm and swing her around. She tripped over my legs and fell face down across my lap.

The back of her blouse had pulled out and was up around her bra strap, so I put my hand against the bare skin and shoved her down into the couch fabric. She wiggled like an eel trying to get up, but I had the advantage now, and could hold her down easily. Besides, the couch fabric muffled her yelling.

"Stop it!" I ordered, with approximately no effect. Her bottom was lying across my lap in perfect position with her skirt stretched tight over her buns, so I gave her a swat. That seemed to have a salutary effect, so I did it again, harder this time. Her torrent of vituperation changed suddenly to a howl of outrage. The shoe was on the other foot now.

I slapped her bottom again and again. I was beginning to like this. If I was going to be fired because of this slut, at least it would be because of something I did. After about a dozen slaps she had become much less noisy, but was still twisting about, trying to protect her ass as much as trying to get away from me now. Not that she could do much about either.

She kept twisting her arms around behind her to try to protect her fanny from me. I was able to grab them both; her wrists were so thin I could hold both wrists with one hand, holding her arms clear of her bottom while I whopped it a few more times with my free hand.

I became aware of a change in her movements, so I paused in my attack for a moment to watch her. She had almost ceased trying to escape, and her hip motion had assumed an odd motion, as if she was humping herself against my lap. It looked to me like Alice was getting turned on! As she arched her fanny upward, her skirt tightened and I could see the outline of her panties through the fabric. When I slapped her butt it drove her hips downward and she ground her pelvis against my leg. She was not the only one getting turned on by this, I must say.

I swatted her again experimentally, watching closely the result this time. Her pelvis went down and ground hard against my leg. I held my hand against her bottom and it rose as she pressed her butt against my palm. I slowly moved my hand downward, over the backs of her legs and back up, lingering in the vicinity of her crotch. The tone of her voice had changed to something more resembling a moan than a screech. She wiggled her fanny against my palm, trying to scratch the itch which seemed to be growing at a rapid rate.

Her skirt was short to begin with, and her twisting had worked the hem even higher. A tiny tug sufficed to uncover the bottom of her panties. I ran my hand down her legs again and back up, this time sliding it under her skirt. I felt sleek nylon slide under my palm, stretched tightly by the tight twin lobes under it. I could smell the unmistakable odor of aroused femininity as I used my leverage to pry her hem up some more.

Alice realized then what was going on. "What are you doing?" she complained, knowing full well what I was doing.

"Hush," I explained.

"Stop it!" she ordered. "You can't do this to me."

"Yes I can. You deserve everything you've gotten. And everything you're going to get." Let her think about that.

"What did I do?" she wanted to know.

"You've been a bad girl, and you deserve a spanking. And you're going to get one."

"But I already did. You've been spanking me." She didn't sound like she minded all that much. I had stopped holding here down, but she wasn't trying to get away.

"Nothing like what you deserve. You were trying to get me in trouble, but now you're in hot water. That kind of behavior has to be punished." Did I detect a quiver of anticipation?

"Please," she begged, I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I was really angry at you, and I was trying to get back at you. I wouldn't really have run out in the hall like that."


I was stroking her bottom all this time, and I noticed a wet spot appearing in her crotch. Uh-huh. I touched it with one finger and she jumped. "Hey, stop that!" she hollered. She twisted her body to look at me, her bare breast still hanging out of her open blouse.

"Still trying to give the orders, huh? Ok." It was time to escalate. I grabbed the hem of that silly skirt in both hands and dragged it up to her waist, fully exposing her little pink bikinis. Well, that got her attention. She complained enough that I was forced to swat her backside a couple of times to calm her down. The feeling of skin under the thin nylon was quite different than under her much heavier skirt fabric. The shape of her firm globes and their central division impressed itself on my palm. After two or three spanks I massaged the globes to rub some of the sting out. She squirmed on my lap, and as her legs opened I could see that the entire crotch of her panties was stained with moisture. The nylon was tight and molded her shape nicely. I could clearly see the puffy lips of her sex, outlined by the leg elastics which dimpled her flesh slightly from their tension, and the dip where the underwear traced her central furrow.

My attention was continually drawn to the elastic at the top of the panties where it crossed low on her hips. It would be so easy ... Did I dare? By this time, I was already in it about as deeply as I could get, I figured. What was one more thing?

"All right, are you ready for your spanking now?"

"Hey wait! I've had my spanking already."

"That was just the preliminaries. Now we get to the main event."

"Nooo! Hey, what are you doing?"

I had hooked my fingers in the waistband. Taking a deep breath, I yanked downward.

"Noooo! Stop it. Don't!" and things like that.

She complained all the time as I skinned her panties down her thighs, but then she bent her knees and allowed me to slither them all the way to her ankles and off. I shoved them into my inside coat pocket.

She began fighting again as soon as I got them all the way off, so I had to hold her down as she squirmed. I could see the rear of her pouch tucked up under her butt cheeks even when she kept her legs closed, but as she flailed them around I got some really tantalizing glimpses of her sex.

I had to spank her hard several times before she quieted down. With that broad expanse of flesh completely bare now, I could see the impact I was having as her bottom took on a warm red glow. I could almost see my handprints on her cheeks as I enthusiastically whacked them. With her blouse still tucked up practically under her armpits, her bra in disarray and her skirt bunched up around her waist, Alice was essentially naked. What had started out as simply trying to keep her from causing me a great deal of trouble had gotten a lot thicker. Moreover, I found I was enjoying myself.

I have never once thought of myself as a sadist. I have never enjoyed hurting people, and if Alice had behaved as if she were really in distress, I think I would have let her up immediately. However, she never seemed to have her heart in the struggle, and didn't try very hard to get away. And she was definitely very turned on. She was more interested in rubbing her pubes against me than in getting up. I have to say that I did find it very erotic having a beautiful naked girl across my lap for me to spank like a baby. Only Alice was definitely no baby.

I spent more time stroking and fondling her bare bottom than beating it. I liked that better, and so did Alice. The soft expanse of firm, warm feminine flesh felt good under my hand, and it made her quiver and wriggle in the most interesting ways. I would work my way down the backs of her legs and back up to her fanny, lightly touching her vulva on the way by. That made her quiver even more, so I began to spend more time stroking that part of her.

It was obviously driving her wild. She parted her legs to give me better access to what she wanted touched, so I obliged. Her pussy was hot to the touch, and so lubricated that I hardly noticed when the finger that was drifting up and down her furrow easily slipped into her opening and probed her body. She thrust her hips upward, seeking deeper penetration, but my finger was already in her to the palm. Her vagina was soft inside, with tiny internal ridges. I explored it with my finger.

Alice was panting and giving off little whimpering noises. She was begging me again, but the tune was altogether different now. When she said "please...", it didn't mean "let me go."

I tested her clitoris and found it electric. I would dip my finger into her moisture and smear it all over her clit, then roll it between my thumb and forefinger. She splayed her legs to spread her pussy for me as I found the best spots inside by trial and error.

She reached back with one hand, finding and clenching my rigid cock, which I didn't mind at all. She squeezed me rhythmically as I worked over her pussy.

Suddenly her body went rigid. The hand on my cock clamped down hard as she began a long series of orgasms, one after the other. She seemed to sweep from one to the next in an ever increasing wave of sensation. I gripped her pussy and squeezed in time with her reactions, a move that seemed to chase her upward and upward again. She was crying out incoherently, finally saying something like "No, please, no more. I can't stand any more," just before crashing into another intense orgasm. At some point I came in my pants, but I hardly noticed it against the violence of Alice's orgasms.

Finally it was over. She lay limply across my lap for the longest time, unmoving. I simply cuddled her pussy in my palm and stroked her back while she regained her strength and composure.

At last she said, "That was ... I can't begin to tell you what that was. Nothing like that ever happened to me before." she peered back at me impishly. "If that was my punishment, I must have been a very, very bad girl."

"Oh you were. You were a very, very bad girl."

"Oh. Well, I hope I'm not that bad too often. I couldn't take that kind of treatment very often."

"Not more than once a day, hm?"

"Not that often. Is it OK if I get up now?"

I let her up. She stood in front of me and let me look at her. Her skirt was still tangled around her waist, and her bra had come loose and was up above both tits. She lifted her breasts in both hands. "You do like to look at these, but you never once touched them." she mused.

Finally she tugged her skirt down, and tucked her self back into the bra and buttoned up the blouse.

"Can I go now?" she wanted to know.

"Sure. anytime you want to."

"Um ... Can I have my panties back?"


"What do you mean, no?" Some of the old fire was coming back.

"Just what I said. You can have them back tomorrow if you want. If you really need them. And can prove it."

"You expect me to go without them all day? But this skirt is too short..."

"That's right."

"But what if..." she bit her lip. "OK. I can't make you give them to me."

"Good. Now you're beginning to learn about obedience."

"Obedience. Yes. that's something you expect from me, isn't it?"

I got up and walked around behind her. "Yes. Implicitly." I picked up the rear of her tiny skirt. "Obedience is a great virtue in a girl." I put my hand on her bottom, down under the curve. She obediently opened her legs to give her pussy to me.

She looked down at the floor. "I know," she whispered. "My mother used to tell me that all the time. It's hard to remember sometimes though."

I let her go then. "I'm sure you'll keep it in mind now Alice."

She walked slowly to the door. When she reached it she turned and said quietly, "Thank you for the lesson, Mr. Jackson. I'm sure my chemistry will improve a lot now. I'll be careful to listen and do just what you tell me." She pressed her band to her backside. "Especially since I know what the price of disobedience is." With that, she grinned at me and flounced out the door.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Reluctant / Heterosexual / Spanking / School /