Chapter 5: Session 3: Professor Aronson

My third paid counselling session with Dylan Jones via Zoom, was scheduled to cover the part Professor Henry Aronson played in my life as a sexual plaything for four powerful men. He would become the most important for my university and career ambitions, as well as the one who took over as my chief abuser from the age of 18. But that is jumping ahead.

By the time I had turned 16, Mr Green had been my chief abuser for a year, using me almost every day at school, plus his once-a-week evening sessions with me. As his whore, being paid with his time and coaching, he expected me to be available to him any time he needed “de-stressing”. I had lost count of the number of times I had swallowed his load in the Caretakers’ storeroom and then returned to my class wiping the last vestiges from my lips, or returned with his semen leaking from me if he had needed a more vigorous physical release of his stress. I certainly did not need to eat lunch as I was having a protein meal almost daily.

At the same time, Uncle John was still making full use of his “Little slut,” using me two or three times each week. Which meant that often I had both using me on the same day, sometimes in the same orifice which made for an interesting walk home afterwards. Sometimes they had me together during Mt Green’s evening coaching session, and most brazenly in the school staffroom one Sunday afternoon after a morning Governors meeting. When together, they liked to give me a long and sometimes painful DP, until they also discovered that giving me a DP in the same hole was a fun pastime, one they found with good teamwork could be achieved in both my cunt and anus.

At 16, John decided my implant would need replacing within the year, and so took me to another colleague and asked him to fit an IUD, contraceptive coil, which meant I would never need my implants replaced and I would not have to remember to take a pill every day. Their little slut, and whore, was completely safe from unwanted accidents. I was now ready to meet my next benefactor.

On the day of one of Mr Green’s evening coaching sessions, John told my parents that they would like to bring a friend to meet them who was also interested in my career development. They arranged to come to our house straight after school, and promptly at 4.15 the three men arrived.

They introduced Professor Henry Aronson, a leading academic at the university that I hoped to be going to in two years. He was a long-time friend of Mr Green and shared several common interests with him. One of which was helping talented young people to achieve their goals. Mr Green had told him a lot about their daughter and he hoped he could join the small circle of supporters who were developing her academic and social attributes so rigorously. He could not get her a place at any university – that was down to my academic performance – but he could give me a lot of coaching before hand on what was needed to win a place and then gain a quality degree at the end of it. He might even be able to arrange for me to spend a weekend or two each year at his university, to see what life was like in a major institution.

True to form my parents were duly impressed and once more unwittingly agreed to hand my future over to another man none of us really knew. Mr Green then sealed the deal by saying tonight was one of my coaching evenings, and as Henry was staying with him overnight, it made sense for him to join my coaching session, so they could use the time to discuss university life and what professor Aronson liked to see in his best students. As John was also here and influential in bringing the group of coaches together, perhaps he would like to join them too.

So, all four of us made the short journey to Mr. Green’s house, but as we left my parents John told them that, as there might be a lot to explore with me tonight, I might be a bit late home, but not to worry about food as they were going to order something to be delivered. So now I was all theirs for the whole evening. Professor Aronson was a suave, well-dressed man in his early sixties. Not as tall as John or Mr Green but certainly portlier than them. With silvery grey hair brushed back over his ears he looked quite impressive and I could imagine him holding forth in a lecture theatre. But I knew there was not going to be much discussion of my university ambitions tonight, other than prostituting myself to another man, letting him use my body in payment for his coaching advice. Once inside the house, Mr Green said “We have a little routine when we start a session in my house, Henry. First things first, young Alice takes off her clothes and then goes to any visitor, like John, but specially to you tonight, and formally introduces herself with a demonstration of her excellent oral skills. While she is making you comfortable, John and I will strip off so we can join in when you are ready.”