Chapter 5

Shannon worked hard the next day, and our "quiz" went much more easily for her. Her ass was very sore, and I realized that she was not going to be able to sit through her classes if I kept it that way, so I whipped her thighs instead. She cried, but did not lose her grip as she had on Saturday. I congratulated her, and laid out a schedule for getting her through her courses. Except for classes, meals, exercise, and "quizzes", she was to spend essentially all her time studying to pass her finals.

I got to work on her papers. My biggest problem was not to write too well; I didn't want her professors getting suspicious. Fortunately, I had her old papers as models, and I was soon able to produce a pair of "C" papers that she could have written. I required her to study them, and quizzed her on them, before I let her turn them in.

We had "quizzes" every day, and I alternated between the front and back of her thighs. Shannon was continually sore. She got better at studying very quickly, but she was really not too bright; though I restricted myself to the most modest sorts of questions, I was forced to whip her at least some nearly every time. I had to be careful not to break her skin, or we could have had serious problems.

During this period I did not push Shannon sexually or psychologically. I needed her to concentrate on her work, and I could not punish her much more than I was doing already. Besides, our quizzes were doing the psychological work I needed done, habituating her to the idea that her body was mine to do with as I would. I got a lot of blowjobs, as her soreness made Shannon an unresponsive partner no matter what position we had sex in.

Finally it was over. I gave her an incomplete in my course, and she got a "C" in English and a "D" in history.

She was appropriately grateful, and thanked me effusively. I made her admit that she had needed our quizzes.

We were in bed after her last final, and I was sitting on top of her, my hands pressing her breasts together around my cock. "Come on, now, Shannon," I said insistently, moving my fingers to pinch her nipples, "I want to be properly thanked for whipping you." I pinched both her nipples at once, and she drew her breath in sharply.

"Oh! Oh, thank you."

"Say 'Thank you sir.'"

She looked at me with surprise; I had never insisted on this before. "Say it," I repeated, and pinched her again, clamping down quite hard, but slowly.

"Thank you--unhh--sir," she breathed as her body twitched from the compression of her nipples, and then a long "ohhh..." as I let them expand again. I felt a tingle in my balls at the sound, and a rush of pure lust ran from there to my brain. My breathing became quicker, and a little pre-cum showed on the end of my cock.

"I'm going to tit-fuck you, Shannon," I said, and pressed her tits together around my cock again. Her hands reached up to help, and I began fucking her. After a moment I stopped. Her eyes flew open.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," I answered. I reached into my bedside table and brought out a tube of K-Y jelly. I rubbed it between her breasts and returned to my position atop her. She sighed again and stroked my cock as it slid along her chest.

"Press them together, Shannon," I said. "Make your tits a cunt for me." Her hands came up and pushed her tits together around my cock. They were big enough to envelop it completely. I began fucking her, first slowly, then faster. It was much easier now with the K-Y, and the sensation was beginning to get to me. "Harder," I ordered, speeding up, "press them harder."

She pushed a little more, and made a little noise of unhappiness.

"No," I said, my voice, as usual, hoarse, "Hard! I don't care if it hurts." She went a little farther, and I began to yell at her as I abandoned myself to the orgasm, fucking frenziedly. "Harder, goddamn it, harder! Make it hurt! I want to hear you cry, you bitch, you cunt, you goddamned cunt."

I heard a little cry escape her as she pressed her tits together hard. "Oh, oh! Oh god, keep it there. Oh, yes, oh yes, oh shit I'm coming." I came hard, my cum squirting up onto her neck and face, still yelling. "Harder, you bitch, harder, oh god..."

I pulled loose from her tits and gave her my cock to suck. She took it in her mouth, but was unable to get more than a few drops. I wiped the cum from her neck and let her lick it off my fingers. When we were done we lay silent for a few minutes, and then Shannon asked a question.

"Umm--can I ask you a question?"

"Yes." She turned onto her side, but I didn't move to face her.

"Why do you like to hurt me? I mean, why does it make you hard?"

"Hmm. I've actually thought a good deal about that," I answered. Now I did turn to face her. "I've been having fantasies of hurting and humiliating women since I was about thirteen. When it started, I didn't think about it much, and then later I thought I must be a misogynist, but now I don't think so."

"A mis ... what?"

"Oh, sorry. A misogynist, someone who hates women. I don't think I am one, because I don't have any desire to hurt women to whom I'm not attracted sexually. That is, if I hate women, I certainly don't hate all women. It has occurred to me, of course, that if I'm not sexually attracted to someone then I can't think of her as a woman, and then maybe the definition would apply again..."

"Huh?" I had lost her, musing aloud.

"Never mind. Anyway, I don't think I hate women; I don't even think I hate you. I just get off on hurting you."

"But how come?"

"I think the answer has at least two parts. The first has to do with ownership." I reached out and stroked her hair, then brought her mouth to mine.

After the kiss I said, "I don't want to lecture you ... Well ... okay. The only comprehensible theory of ownership I ever heard was that you only really truly own something if you are free to destroy it. I don't want to destroy you, but the idea is the same: you're really mine if I can do whatever I like with you." I glanced over at her, but she wasn't looking at me, so I couldn't see her expression.

I grabbed her upper arm and squeezed it, and again brought her to me for a kiss, a more passionate one this time. I was getting reheated; my cock was already half hard. I ran my fingernails lightly down her back. She shuddered, and I remembered that she had not yet come. I leaned back and continued my lecture, caressing her the while.

"The second part of the answer has to do with domination. Most sex, at least good sex, is about domination, one partner dominating the other. I am definitely a dominant type, and so I need a submissive partner.

You, on the other hand--" My hand brushed her left breast, and her nipple stiffened. I moved closer to her, my hand sliding slowly down toward her crotch. I whispered the last phrase in her ear, punctuating it with kisses. "-- are very much the submissive type."

"You see--" My cock was hard again now, and both of us were breathing hard. "--sex wouldn't be any good for you unless you understood implicitly that I was in control." I pinched her nipple hard as I said the last word. She gasped and brought her face up to mine.

"Oh god yes," she said. My finger entered her cunt, and she cried out. "Oh yes, oh god, oh fuck me baby oh fuck me." She began fucking my hand, but I pulled it part way out.

"Say 'please'," I breathed.

"Please, Please," she said, seeking my finger with her cunt.

"No," I said, still in control, "say 'please master fuck me'."

"Oh, god, I want it. Unhh--please, master, fuck me, please."

"Good girl." I put my middle finger in her cunt and bent my thumb to rub against her clit. She began bucking and thrusting against my hand, and emitting little cries of pleasure.