Cuties

ORAL EXAM by Downing Street

WEEK 1

Tammy took her seat in the small classroom and waited for the first class of the term to begin. A few other students trickled in behind her, but the classroom was not nearly full. Tammy caught a boy eyeing her and gave him a coquettish smile, fluffing her curly brown hair. Tammy was something of a hottie, and she knew it. She was barely taller than a shotgun, but her petite form was packed with curves in all the right places. She wore her dark hair short, curled around her ears, so it emphasized her cute face with the high, round-apple cheeks.

It was the beginning of Tammy’s second year at the small, liberal-arts college, but she wasn’t really all that interested in the arts. Or the sciences for that matter. Tammy’s interests ran more to boys, parties, boys, clothes, boys, beer, and boys. In her first year she hadn’t exactly topped the Dean’s list. She had done all right in Intro Psych though, so she had signed up for this course in Abnormal Psychology in the hope that it would prove similarly “grade-average favorable”.

She looked around the room casually, checking out the guy potential. There were less than two dozen students, and only four guys! Rotten! Still, at least one of them was kind of cute. She caught him looking her over. Unlike most of her female classmates, Tammy didn’t believe in going to class in jeans and sneakers. Today she sported black shorts and a pink, three-button cardigan that flared open at the bottom to show her navel. Her legs were decked in black hose, topped off with black canvas hightops. “Oh my goodness, it’s Professor Hartmann,” whispered Carla, Tammy’s roommate and fellow party-goer. She was slouched in her chair beside Tammy, a slender blonde who looked good even though she waswearing jeans and sneakers.

Tammy looked down at the white-haired man ambling into the front of the lecture hall. “Who?” she said.

Carla shook her head. “Jeez, Tam, don’t you pay any attention? Dr. Hartmann was in all the papers last term. There was a big investigation of his research and stuff. Turns out the prof was doing a study on student volunteers, some sort of improved-learning thing, but he was doing things he didn’t tell the students and some of them started to act really strange. Real X-files stuff. He didn’t have authorization or ethical approval or anything.”

“What happened?”

“Well, the guy’s only a couple years away from retirement so they didn’t fire him if he promised to leave at the end of the year. They hushed everything up. Let me tell you, Tam, universities hate seeing their name in the paper.” Carla liked to think she was world-wise.

Tammy looked down on the man approaching the lectern. He was certainly getting on, and with his heavy, snow-white moustache he reminded her of an aging walrus. He wore a grey suit. He looked perfectly harmless to her.

“Are you sure that’s him?” Tammy asked.

“Sure I’m sure. I saw his picture in the paper.”

“Good morning everyone,” the professor began. “Welcome to Psych 293, Abnormal Psychology. I am Dr. Hartmann, your instructor.” He had a slow, boring voice. He covered the usual drill about course content and such. Tammy didn’t pay much attention until he started talking about exams.

“As some of you may know, this is my last semester at this university,” Dr. Hartmann informed them. “And frankly, my children, I am a little tired of marking midterms and assignments. Therefore, in this class there will not be any. Instead I will be giving brief quizzes at the beginning of each Friday class. The quizzes cumulatively will be worth two thirds of your final grade. At the end of term, the remaining third will be determined by a twenty-minute oral exam. The quizzes are therefore quite important. I suggest you do not skip classes.” A collective groan rose from the class.

Dr. Hartmann surveyed them blandly as he spoke, his expression calm and professional. But when he saw Tammy, she was sure his eyes lingered for a moment on her legs. “To begin today’s class,” he went on, “I will be showing a brief video that presents an overview of the topics to be covered. Please pay close attention.” He pulled down a screen at the front of the room, dimmed the lights, and started the built-in video projector.

The video was clearly a home-made deal, shot in the professor’s office and featuring the professor himself. He had just pre-recorded himself to save the bother of talking live to the class. Tammy found him every bit as dull on tape as in person. To make matters worse, the lighting was terrible; there was some sort of background light that kept flickering in his eyes. It was really distracting. This guy was supposed to be the learning expert?

“Did you see the way the prof was checking me out?” Tammy asked as they filed out of class.

Carla bent over to pick up her bookbag. “When?”

“Just now, as he was leaving. And earlier too. He had his eyes all over my legs.”

“Like I’m sure,” Carla scoffed. “Prof. Hartmann is like a hundred years old.”

“He may be old,” Tammy said, “but he sure ain’t dead.”

The course started off with phobias and manias. The first quiz came on Friday, as promised. Tammy wasn’t really well prepared. There were always so many parties at the start of the term. It was too early and she was a little hung over. To make matters worse, the questions on the quiz were ambiguous and difficult, not the simple test-your-memory questions she had expected.

Prof. Hartmann gave them fifteen minutes to finish the quiz. While they wrote, the professor stood at the front of the class, leaning on the lectern, quietly surveying his 23 students. At one point Tammy looked up to see him gazing at her legs again. “Dirty old man,” she thought privately. “He’s always staring at me.” She uncrossed her knees and crossed them the other way, letting her black denim mini slip a little higher. Couldn’t hurt to get on the prof’s good side.

When the time was up the professor collected the papers, and to the mild surprise of the class he graded them right then and there. He put on another of his pre-recorded video lectures and retired to a desk in the corner, working in a little pool of light from a small desk lamp. When the tape ended he turned up the lights, handed back the exams and dismissed the class. Tammy scored 7 out of 10. She looked at her paper in surprise as she left the room. She shot a glance back at the professor. His eyes were on her nylons again. Tammy gave him her best little-girl smile. It looked like she had found the old fellow’s soft spot.

WEEK 4

“I don’t get it,” Carla complained, a few weeks later. “I can’t seem to get over 5 on these stupid quizzes to save my life. You get a 7 or an 8 every week. And I know you didn’t study for this one.”

That was true enough. In fact, Tammy had been out at a party the night before, and hadn’t actually made it back to the dorm until near sunrise. She’d had a great time, as much as she could remember.

“I don’t know,” she said evasively. “Maybe it’s in the interpretation of the questions or something.” She shrugged. Her pert breasts bounced beneath her red-striped pullover.

Carla stuffed her paper into her bookbag. “Shit, I hate these quizzes. The questions are so vague they could mean anything. How are we supposed to know what he wants? I just don’t get it.”

Tammy considered for a second. “Carla, can you keep a secret?”

That got her friend’s attention. “Probably not. Why, what is it?”

“I think I know why I do better at these quizzes than you. It has nothing to do with the answers, either.”

Carla raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“Professor Hartmann is a dirty old man.”

Carla said nothing for a moment. She looked at Tammy, in her snug sweater and matching mini with a slit up the side. Then at herself, in faded jeans and a loose sweatshirt.

“You mean...”

“Yup. He is like always looking at me. Especially at my legs. Ever since the first day of class. So I make sure to wear something short for his lectures. Especially on Fridays. I think it puts him in a better mood or something. And Iknow that’s why I get better marks.” She giggled.

But Carla was not impressed. “Man, that is so sick. Prof. Hartmann is like older than this building. What a perv!”

“Hey, he’s not that old,” Tammy said, “and besides I think he’s kind of cute. Sort of like a friendly grandfather.”

Carla considered for a moment. “Do you suppose he would like me, you know, if I wore something different?”

“There’s only one way to find out, right?”

Laughing, the two girls headed off to their next lecture.

WEEK 5

“Looky, looky” Carla said, exactly one week later. She held up her quiz paper. Professor Hartmann had written a big 9 in red ink at the top. “And I had like no clue about that third question. I just made something up!”

“Told ya,” said Tammy.

Carla tittered as she got to her feet. She tugged down the hem of her stretchy minidress and dropped her quiz into her bookbag. She caught the professor watching her from across the room as she bent over. Her long legs looked very good in tan nylons and block-heeled shoes. “Hey, this course is fun!” she pronounced, as she and Tammy pranced out of the room.

WEEK 6

These videos are like, ultra-boring, Tammy reflected, as she looked about the darkened lecture hall. On the tape, Prof. Hartmann was droning on about paranoid psychosis, while the real Prof. Hartmann sat in the corner, quietly marking quiz papers. Tammy was pretty sure she would do well. Her navy blue skirt was very short, of course, and had cuts up the side to flash a little more of her sleek nylons. She was wearing new boots, too: sexy black, platform jobs that had nothing to do with keeping warm and everything to do with looking hot. She was pretty sure the professor liked boots.

Beside her, Carla was leaning on one hand, dully watching the video. Tammy could see the flickering light from the film reflected in her half-closed eyes. Carla’s black sweater showed off her blonde hair nicely, and her little black skirt was as brief as Tammy’s. Instead of boots she wore flamboyant platform slides with white straps and soft black soles a couple of inches high. Professor Hartmann’s voice droned on and on, hardly ever changing pitch or inflection. He never did fix that irritating light flickering in his eyes. Tammy found it difficult to concentrate on what he was saying.

I suppose I really ought to be taking notes, Tammy reflected vaguely. She looked around the darkened room. Several of the other girls were wearing daringly brief skirts or sundresses. One athletic-looking brunette was wearing red spandex short-shorts and a tight red T-shirt, coupled with the trendiest of trendy running shoes. Hmmm, looks like I’m not the only one to pick up on the professor’s weakness, Tammy said to herself. The class was smaller now. Perhaps frustrated with the endless quizzes, a number of students had dropped out, including three of the boys. Oh well.

WEEK 7

Carla was impatient. “Hey, come on, we’ll be late for the quiz.” This week it was psychosomatic illness and addictive personalities.

Tammy hung back. “Uh, you go ahead, OK? I just have to pop into the washroom for a minute.”

OK, I’ll meet you there!” She turned and tripped down the hall, her high-heeled sandals clicking on the tile floor. She was wearing a nifty little suit in three-color checks, with a very abbreviated, rump-hugging skirt and suntan pantyhose. It wasn’t quite fair, Tammy pouted. Her legs were as good as Carla’s, but Carla was taller, she just had more leg to show. But then she giggled, thinking about what she had planned for today.

“There, that should do it,” Tammy said a moment later, as she pulled her pantyhose back on. Her black panties were lying on the floor. She had carefully chosen the shade of her pantyhose to be just slightly opaque. She wanted the professor to see something, but not too much. To make it look sort of accidental. He had been stealing glances up her skirts for weeks now anyway.

She rolled the sleek nylons up her legs, but paused when she got to the top. Her bush was dark and curly, neatly trimmed. Just for a moment she slipped a finger downward, experimentally. She shuddered at the intense tremor of response. A few more strokes. It felt so good.

She hadn’t been laid in a while. None of her recent dates had quite done it for her. Maybe she was more attracted to older men. After a long moment she reluctantly pulled her hand away and adjusted her clothing. She didn’t want to be late for the quiz.

The lights went up and Tammy blinked. Was the video over already? She must have drifted off. Shit those films were boring. She looked around the room. Behind her, a drowsy looking redhead was stretching, deliberately pressing her rather large breasts against the tight halter-top she wore.

Professor Hartmann was already handing back this week’s term papers. The girls all smiled at him when he came by. One cute thing dropped her paper. It fell in front of her, between her fancy white ankle boots. Dr. Hartmann politely bent down and picked it up for her. She moved her legs a little, lifting her brief skirt. He straightened slowly. Tammy giggled; maybe she should try that.

Prof. Hartmann approached the aisle where Tammy and Carla were sitting. Tammy made sure she was in position, slouched casually in her chair with one foot hooked over the back of the armrest of the seat in front of her. This position showed off her dark-nyloned legs provocatively. Because the floor of the lecture hall slanted upward, it also made it very convenient for Professor Hartmann to sneak a peak under her skirt. Which he had been doing all through the quiz. He stopped for a moment as he approached. Tammy shifted in her chair, pretending not to notice.

Professor Hartmann smiled. “You continue to perform very well in this class, Carla,” he said, handing back her quiz.

“Oh, thank you Professor,” Carla gushed, leaning forward earnestly. She was wearing no blouse beneath the bright-coloured suit jacket. She made sure the professor got the full benefit of her new push-up bra.

“And you, Tammy,” the professor continued, “are sitting at the head of the class. Very impressive.”

Tammy looked as excited as she felt. “Wow, that’s great, Professor Hartmann,” she said, accepting her paper. The answers she had given for today’s quiz had been pretty much gibberish. She looked down at her paper and squealed in delight. Her first 10.

“Have a pleasant weekend, ladies,” the professor said. He cast one more long, lingering gaze down the length of Tammy’s shiny black nylons, between the hem of her little PVC miniskirt and her big-heeled platform clogs, before moving on to hand back more papers.

Tammy couldn’t stop grinning. A ten! She tugged down her skirt automatically as she got to her feet. Skipping her next class, she slipped into the washroom again and masturbated to a yummy climax. What a great course!

WEEK 9

Tammy opened the door of her dorm room and stepped inside. Carla jumped. “OH! Tammy. I, I didn’t see you there.”

“What are you doing?” Tammy asked. She kicked off her shoes and flopped onto her bed. Her roommate was sitting at one of the built-in desks, dressed in a shorty nightgown. She seldom wore that one unless there was a man in the room. She appeared to be studying. But hadn’t her left hand been down between her legs?

Carla smiled a little nervously. Her face was flushed. “Oh, I was just, like boning up for the quiz tomorrow. What’s catatonia?” She pushed a thick lock of hair off her face.

“Couldn’t tell ya. Did we cover that?”

Carla closed her books. “So, how was the party?”

“Ahh, kinda boring. I left. Those guys are such dweebs.”

“Dweebs? Tam in case you haven’t noticed, that party you crashed was at the hottest frat on campus. Totally hunk city.”

“Yeah, well whatever. They’re still dweebs. Lotsa beer though.” She giggled, a little tipsy.

Carla flopped across her own bed on the other side of the room. “So,” she said after a moment, “what are you going to wear to Ab Psych tomorrow?”

Tammy turned to face her, leaning on one elbow. She considered carefully. “I’m not sure. Maybe that red dress, you know, with the yellow braids. He’ll likemy legs in that. Or maybe that lycra thing, you know, the purple one? With the bra-top and tights. She ran one hand absently down her thigh. “Gotta get the right shoes, though... What are you gonna wear?”

“Oh, I got this great new outfit, sexy as hell. It’s got like a pink suit jacket and a really short skirt. I think I’ll wear it with my black lace underwear. He’ll love it!”

“Mmmmm, sounds good,” Tammy said sleepily. She was still rubbing her fingers absently against her tight jeans. Privately, she wished Carla weren’t there, so she could masturbate for a while. She couldn’t seem to find the right guy lately to scratch her itches. Maybe she needed somebody older, more experienced.

“Hey,” said Carla, suddenly enthusiastic, “let’s try some stuff on!”

“Good idea!”

The girls bounced to their feet and began undressing. Tammy took rather longer to wiggle out of her designer jeans than for Carla to pull her nightie over her head. Tammy admired Carla’s nude body as she strode to the closet. She really is a looker, Tammy decided. She found her attention lingering on the curve of her roommate’s breasts, the round press of her ass as she bent over. Carla reached into a shopping bag and pulled out some scraps of black lace. “Look at this!” she chortled, holding them up for Tammy to see.

“Oh, cool. Try them on!”

Carla separated the crotchless bikini panties from the bunch and pulled them snugly up her hips. The black fabric emphasized the puff of blonde hair around her pussy. Tammy watched. Carla then found the bra, a shamelessly skimpy thing and began to work her way into it.

“Here, lemme help,” said Tammy, stepping up behind her. She found the ends of the straps and fastened the single hook. Her hands felt the warmth of Carla’s back.

Carla turned, modelling the skimpy underwear. “Whaddya think?”

“Awesome!”

“Wait, here’s the best part.” She picked up one of the two remaining garments, a sheer, light black stocking with lace around the top.

Tammy grabbed it. “Hey, sit down. Let me,” she said impulsively.

“Oh, uh OK,” Carla said uncertainly, sitting down on the bed.

Tammy finished removing her sweater, leaving her in her underwear too. Then she knelt down in front of Carla and carefully began rolling the filmy stocking up her leg. Carla tittered. Tammy did it slowly, smoothing out the fabric as she went. Carla twitched when she got to the top. “Hey, careful, that... tickles.” Tammy was breathing warm against her skin.

“Now the other one,” Tammy said, starting in on the second stocking. Carla leaned back on the bed as Tammy raised her leg in the air. “I’ve always envied your legs, Carla. They are just so perfect.” She used both hands to smooth out the stocking.

“Tammy, I, uh...” Carla said, as Tammy began to arrange the stay-up lace tops of the stocking.

“I’ve always dreamed of having legs like yours.”

“Tammy, maybe we shouldn’t, like....” She felt breath against her inner thigh.

“Hey, Carla, honey, you’re a li’l wet down here.” Tammy’s voice was husky. Suddenly bold, she slipped one finger between the inviting pink lips in the middle of the nest of blonde curls.

“Tam! Stop that!”

“Mmmmmmm, baby you taste good,” Tammy purred, sucking on her finger. She was bent way over, between Carla’s stocking-wrapped legs. She bent a little further, flicking out her tongue to taste where her finger had been. Then she used her whole mouth.

“TAMMMEEE!” Carla wailed, “What are you doing! Please, don’t do... oh god, no... oh shit.... oh god Tammmeeeeee!”

But here roommate was going at it full bore now, tongue and lips slurping and licking hungrily. Carla groaned and fell back on the bed, thrusting her hips upward to meet Tammy’s dancing tongue. She gripped the pillow in both hands and squeezed, breathing raggedly. Her orgasm came quickly and hard.

When she had finally calmed down and stopped panting, Carla returned Tammy’s favor. Twice.

Both girls slept well that night.

WEEK 11

Tammy sat in her usual seat in Ab Psych, leaning contentedly on her hands while she listened to her instructor drone on about criminal insanity. Professor Hartmann was a dear, sweet man, but by god did he ever give a dull lecture. She liked to watch his lips move beneath his white walrus moustache. Some men just grew more sophisticated with age.

The clock struck ten. “Well, that will be all for today,” Prof. Hartmann said, closing his lecture notes. “Don’t forget tomorrow’s quiz. Next week we’ll take a look at erotic obsessions and sexual perversions. Always popular topics.”

There was a ripple of anticipation from the dozen or so girls left in the class. Three more students had dropped out just before the deadline. Two of these were girls—really serious, bookworm types that Tammy didn’t like very much—and the other was the one remaining male student. Tammy had heard that the guy had dropped out of school completely, and was now driving a taxi or something.

Tammy shook her head to wake up a little. She looked down at her open notebook. Darn it, she had forgotten to take notes again. The page was covered with sloppy doodles, mostly sketches of faces with long, droopy moustaches. Some of them had a big, erect penis where the nose should be. Tammy closed the book quickly and stuffed it into her bag. Beside her, Carla yawned and stretched like a cat. “That man can lecture me about sexual perversion anytime,” she pronounced.

“He’s such a sweetie, isn’t he,” Tammy said dreamily. She pulled out her make-up mirror and inspected her face critically. Carla got to her feet and made a show of adjusting her garter straps. The silvery, sleeveless minidress she was wearing barely covered her lace stocking-tops when she was standing. Sitting down, it gave up completely. Tammy knew exactly what skimpy things Carla was wearing under the dress, of course, because she had helped her get dressed in the morning. It was a lot more fun that way, though it did tend to make them late for class.

Tammy was wearing stockings too, sheer satin ones, along with her navy miniskirt and the tall platform boots she figured the professor liked. Tammy wasn’t wearing any panties though, having removed them again in the washroom before class. She had been shooting Prof. Hartmann beaver shots through the whole lecture. She felt confident of another 10 on tomorrow’s quiz.

Reflexively, Tammy looked to the front of the room as she got to her feet, to see if the professor was checking out her legs. But he had three other students around his desk now, all dressed hot, all asking flirty, girlish questions and giving the professor one more chance to admire their cleavage or whatever. Tammy pursed her lips. There was a lot of competition in this class. Funny, all the plain or studious girls seemed to have dropped out, even the really smart ones. The three pretty girls fawning over Prof. Hartmann were all wearing minis or shorts, but none of them had legs as good as hers, Tammy decided.

She looked at her watch. “Hey, Carla, we’re running late. We’d better run for European History.”

Carla stretched again. “Aw, fuck history,” she said indifferently. “Let’s go shopping.”

“Really? Right now?”

“Why not? We have a quiz tomorrow. Can’t hurt to look our best.”

“Yeah. OK, let’s go!” Giggling conspiratorially the two girls sauntered by the lectern on the way out the door. This time Tammy did catch the professor’s eye. He smiled benignly as he took one more look at her sexy, boot-clad legs. She winked at him.

WEEK 12

Tammy studied herself in the washroom mirror, making sure her dark hair was curled just right. “Man, I can’t believe the term is almost over.”

“Hmmmmm, I know what you mean.” Carla finished applying a layer of red lipstick and rolled her lips experimentally. “After today there’s just one more quiz. This course is just fucking excellent!”

The two girls were in the washroom down the hall from the lecture room, crowding around the big mirror with most of the other girls in the class. There was a lot of laughter and banter going on as the girls adjusted their clothes and checked their hair and make-up. Tammy didn’t mind the crowd. It was kind of fun to bump and rub the other girls, feeling their bodies momentarily against hers. It reminded her of the hour she and Carla had spent that morning, missing their early class to dress each other. It took the full hour because clothing kept coming off again.

“OK, I’m ready,” Carla announced, tugging at her yellow and white vinyl mini. She was wearing a matching top that left her midriff bare and scooped low over the bosom. Tammy wore a clingy velour slip-dress to emphasize her curves, dark stockings with a subtle pattern woven in, and black, oxford-style platforms. The chunky heels gave her several inches of extra height, and, she hoped, played up her youthful cuteness.

As the captivating co-eds strutted away to their morning quiz, one of Carla’s high heels landed on the inside page of a discarded newspaper. There was a picture there of a wild-eyed young woman, long hair in tangles, nude except for what looked like thigh-high boots, being escorted away by two police officers. The caption underneath read:

“Exhibitionist detained after wild campus romp.”

“Breakdown probably stress-related, says expert.”

There were only eleven girls in the class now. Tammy didn’t care much about the news. Her main concerns at the moment were showing off her body for Professor Hartmann’s benefit, and avoiding falling asleep during the video.

She fell asleep again.

As the lights came up, Tammy shook her head to clear the cobwebs. She looked around groggily. Most of the other girls had dozed off too. They were gradually coming back to life as Professor Hartmann moved about handing back quizzes. He complemented the whole class on how well they were doing. “It looks like only the dedicated students stayed with the course,” he observed, looking over at Tammy. At once she moved her legs apart to give him a better upskirt shot. She no longer stopped in the washroom to remove her panties before class. It was easier to just skip putting them on in the morning. Since she had Ab Psych classes three times a week, she just generally went without.

Carla and Tammy got their papers back, and made the most of the professor’s momentarily undivided attention. Tammy felt moisture between her legs. When he was gone, Tammy looked at her paper. Another ten. Some of the answers she had given today weren’t even complete sentences.

Both girls were feeling groggy after the video so they decided to skip History again and just go back to the dorm for a nap. Or whatever. They were both failing history anyway. On the way there Tammy remembered she had been invited out to a party the night before. Funny, it had just slipped her mind. It didn’t matter much, though. None of the guys she had met recently excited her at all. They were so immature. She was much more attracted to older men.

Like that man in the mall the other day, when she and Carla were out shopping. He was some sort of a businessman, silver-haired and sophisticated, sitting patiently on a bench, probably waiting for his wife or something. Tammy noticed him eyeing her as she went by. She was dressed to kill, naturally. She decided to stop at a store she didn’t ordinarily frequent, hanging around the front window display to give the man a good show. She even bent over a couple of times to give him a look under her skimpy skirt. She was trying to think of an excuse to go over and talk to him, but then his wife came back and they left. Darn.

The incident had gotten Tammy sort of excited. She slipped into a washroom for a little hand play. In fact, just thinking about it now was revving up her engine again. Maybe she would just duck into the ladies’ for a minute or two....

Man, Tammy thought as she entered the deserted washroom, I’m going to go nuts if I don’t get laid soon. She headed for a vacant stall, but stopped when she heard voices. One of the stalls was already occupied. Curious, Tammy pressed one eye against the crack along the door hinge.

There were two women in the stall. Tammy recognized them as Keri-Ann and Jasper, two classmates from Ab Psych. Keri-Ann, who was dark blonde and well built, was wearing a grommet-studded, leather bra top along with a black leather jacket and miniskirt. Jasper, by contrast, was wearing a bright purple body stocking rendered barely decent by a white vinyl vest and matching short-shorts. She had Keri-Ann sort of pinned against the wall, and was nuzzling and pawing aggressively.

Keri-Ann whispered urgently: “Jasper, jesus, stop this, can’t you—— can’t you at least wait till we get back to the dorm?” She fought to keep her bra-top on.

Jasper was kissing her everywhere. “No!” she breathed. “I can’t wait. Not another minute. Not another second. I’m so hot!” She yanked down one shoulder-strap while her other hand disappeared up the back of Keri-Ann’s skirt. “Psych class always makes me so fucking horny!”

Keri-Ann was quickly losing ground. She gasped as the taller girl began to kiss and lick her suddenly bare breast. “Oh jesus, Jasper, baby, oh shit... but, but what about—oh shit not there—what about your b-b-boyfriend?” She spread her legs as Jasper rucked her short skirt up, slowly kissing her way down her belly.

“Fuck him!” Jasper whispered between kisses. “He’s so juvenile.” She was on her knees now. “And you,” she said, as she slipped her head down between Keri-Ann’s thighs, “Are soooo beautiful...”

Keri-Ann jerked suddenly and a spontaneous “Oh!” escaped her. Her eyelids fluttered. “Ohhh, Jasper!” she sighed.

Standing in the empty washroom watching the two girls get it on, Tammy felt her own temperature rising. She began to fondle her breasts through her slinky dress, while her other hand slipped under the high-riding hem to find her lovenest. The absence of panties made it very accessible. In the washroom, Keri-Ann had her eyes closed and was kneading and squeezing her nipples while her partner ate her out zestfully. She bit her lip, trying to keep from crying out. But when her peak came a cry escaped her anyway and she bent forward suddenly, almost collapsing over Jasper’s back as her knees buckled. Tammy watched, fascinated, her hand moving vigorously. She hoped the other girls didn’t hear her panting.

After a long moment Jasper struggled to her feet and the girls embraced, still hot. They kissed long and deep, fondling each other eagerly, pressing their chests together. Conversation had descended to simple grunts and moans. Keri-Ann sort of half-sat on the toilet seat, Jasper flopped over her, and began to fuss with the zipper on her skin-tight white shorts. They came off eventually, to reveal a neat cut-out around the crotch of her bright purple body stocking. She heaved up on the toes of her cute white running shoes and planted both hands against the wall, blonde hair dishevelled, while Keri-Ann bent to lave her with her tongue.

Just outside the cubicle Tammy was near orgasm herself. She was stroking herself shamelessly, leaning against the crack by the door so she could use both hands to touch herself. She could feel the metal pressing against her forehead as she bounced forward and back. Suddenly the climax hit her, intense and blinding, a cascade of overwhelming pleasure. She cried out loud and bucked helplessly. Her head struck the door once more, the lock slipped, and Tammy stumbled forward, colliding instantly with the two interlocked women inside the cubicle. “Oh my god!” she cried out, mortified. She still had one hand underneath her minidress.

Jasper looked at her, breathless, her eyes bright and glassy. “Tammy!” she whispered. “Come on, join us!” Arms reached out to caress her.

There was barely room for all three girls in the toilet cubicle. But they managed.

WEEK 13

“Well ladies,” said Professor Hartmann, closing his book, “that’s it for this course. I think we’ve learned a lot this semester. Don’t forget to select a convenient time for your oral exam. There’s a sign-up sheet outside my office.”

He looked around at the eight young women crowded into the front-row seats of the lecture hall. They all gazed back at him with a look of dreamy adoration. Tammy wasn’t quite sure what had happened to the missing girls. One of them, she had heard, had been arrested for indecent exposure, wandering around down at the mall trying to seduce older men. The girl had been caught wearing an electric-red rain jacket and matching high heels. And nothing else.

It had been seniors’ day at the mall.

“Before you go, there is just one more thing,” Professor Hartmann said. “As you know, I am officially retiring from the university at the end of this term. However, I am in the midst of some important research on the psychology of learning, and I hope to continue it after my retirement. I will need a number of assistants to help out, and perhaps to act as research subjects. I can offer a reasonable stipend.” He looked around at his class, at the eight foxy young women dressed like drunken pin-ups who were hanging on his every word. “Since you girls have shown such admirable dedication to this course, I have decided to give you first chance at the research assistant positions. Would anybody be interested?”

Immediately there was a chorus of cries as all eight girls noisily volunteered at once. The busty brunette waved her arms around with such agitation that one strap of her overfull bra top fell down completely. She didn’t appear to notice. “Oh, me, me, me, pick meee!” wailed the willowy blonde in the five-inch heels. Tammy and Carla volunteered too, eager for a chance to spend more time with their favorite professor.

At length the professor calmed them down. “All right, all right. I must say I am delighted to see so much enthusiasm. Nevertheless, I cannot hope to hire all of you.” He paused for a moment, considering. “I’ll tell you what. I will take on the top three students as research assistants, and anyone else who would like to participate, well, I will still need subjects for my experiments. I’ll decide the ranking according to your placement on the oral exam. Is that satisfactory?” From the chorus of replies it was clear that it was.

Tammy fidgeted in the straight-backed chair outside Prof. Hartmann’s office. She was a few minutes early for her oral exam. She pulled the big hand mirror out of her bag and checked her hair and make-up one more time. She looked good, she knew. Carla had spent ages fussing over her that morning.

After all, there was more at stake here than just the exam. Tammy was madly determined to do well on the oral so she would qualify as a summer assistant. She looked herself over. The slinky, midnight-blue dress was very form-fitting, carefully selected to accentuate her curvy figure, and revealingly short. She had chosen delicately patterned, dark blue stockings, and calf-high black boots with thick platforms and really high heels. Judging by the avid stares and dropped jaws she had produced as she wobbled across campus, Tammy was pretty sure she looked a piece. She hoped the professor thought so.

She jumped when the door opened and Prof. Hartmann poked his head out. “OK, Tammy, it’s time for you,” he said cheerfully, smiling beneath his heavy white moustache. He openly scanned her petite form, pausing for a long moment at the point where her lacy stockings finally disappeared beneath her satiny dress. For the first time Tammy noticed a definite lump in his trousers. She uncrossed her knees with deliberate slowness.

The professor disappeared back into his office, leaving the door open. Tammy didn’t follow for a moment. Instead, she brought out her mirror and cosmetics again and slowly added a fresh layer of shiny crimson gloss to her lips. This was an oral exam, she reflected, parading into the office. She was set to give Prof. Hartmann the best oral exam he had ever had. She licked her lips in anticipation.

End.

JUST KIDDING by Dorlas

“Now, you are my helpless slave. You will obey every my every command and your purpose in life will be my pleasure.” He said it in the most over the top, cheesy way he could manage. I almost laughed, but I had a better idea.

I slid down off the bed and did a massively elaborate bow. Knees bent under me, arms extended, nose to the ground and everything. I said “Yes my master. Command me and I will obey.” I matched his over the top delivery, and I barely managed to keep from laughing. It was a good thing I had my face down, because I couldn’t keep the smirk off my face. Totally would have given it away.

Jim just laughed. Of course he assumed I was joking. He was. We were going through a dusty old collection of stuff in his parents attic. The house had been in his family for generations, and this stuff looked like it hadn’t been touched since the house was new. He said his great grandfather was big on collecting rare books, and we had found what must have been the remains of his collection. One in particular had stood out. It had been wrapped and stored in an ornate display box, but hidden in a compartment in a bookshelf.

It was all about magic. None of it made any sense, but Jim thought the script and the flow of the language was cool. He paged through it and read some parts, and when he found a spell that was supposed to give the caster the power to enslave a subject to their will he read it in a big theatrical voice, thought he was hilarious. So I was teasing him back. But I wanted to really mess with him.

We’d been dating for almost two years, and I was curious what he would do if he could make me do whatever he wanted. We had the house to ourselves for the week while his parents were gone, and it was kind of fun to be able to mess around like this. We’d been cleaning for about two days, and to amuse myself I’d been doing things like flashing my boobs, or sticking my hands down his pants when he wasn’t expecting it. We had already run down to his bedroom a few times, but not yet today, and I thought it was about time. So I figured I’d play it up, try to get him to take the lead.

So I kept my nose on the floor until he stopped laughing and started wondering why I wasn’t getting up. And I tried really hard to keep the smirk on my face from turning into giggles. It was getting tough as I pictured his face trying to decide what to do. Finally he said “Okay, hah hah. Get up now.”

I straightened out my face, stood up, and said “I live to obey, master.”

The look on his face was even funnier than I’d expected. He was 95% sure I was screwing with him, so he was mostly amused. But that little tiny chance that it was real was making his head spin. Finally it occurred to him that the best way to handle it was to call my bluff.

He smiled a bit and said “If that’s the way you want to play it, go down to the bedroom and strip for me.” I wanted to sell it. I wanted to see what he would do. So in my sultriest, sexiest voice I said “As you command, master.” I walked down the attic stairs, and pulled my shirt off as I went. I got to the bedroom and started stripping, not even waiting for him. He was pretty close behind, and looked completely at a loss. It was great. I’m no expert on the stripping, but I have to admit, I think I did pretty damn well. It took about five minutes before I was completely naked, and he was just standing in the doorway with his mouth hanging open. I was just standing there naked in front of him for a while before he finally blinked for the first time since he’d walked in. He swallowed and whispered “Damn.”

I stood there for just a tiny bit longer before I dropped to my knees, put my arms straight up above my head, and bent at the waist until I was bowing just like before. I said “I am yours to command.”

He said “Wow, that was awesome. I mean, you’re always hot, but holy shit. What do you want to do now?” I’m not sure if he was trying to get me to break character or if he was really just that clueless. I figured I’d make it easy for him. Without lifting my head I said “I want you to reveal your deepest desires so that I may fulfill them. I want you to treat me like I exist solely for your pleasure. I want you to command me and I want to obey.”

He replied by making a sound that was half wimper, half groan. I think if I’d been playing with myself while I said it he probably would have stained his pants. I was inordinately pleased with my performance. I had actually kind of surprised myself with that one.

Finally he got himself together enough to talk. “Alright then. I’m sold, just, uh, say something like ‘that’s enough’ if it goes too far for you, okay?”

I almost protested, but I decided to take pity on him and simply said “I hear and obey.”

I it finally clicked for him. I heard some rustling for a second, then his voice became confident and commanding and he said “Slave, crawl over here and suck my dick.” I looked up, and he was sitting in his desk chair across the room. I started crawling, and he said “Go slow, and work that body. Sway those hips.” I did, and him being like this was totally hot. I got to him and slid up to his lap. His pants were already down and he was rock solid. I started licking and teasing his dick.

“No, slave, suck it. Make me cum. Act like you’re desperate to drink it.” So I wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft and I started sucking and bobbing my head as fast as I could. It was only a few seconds before he said “Here it comes. Drink it, slave.” He barely said it in time. I don’t really like the taste, and I’d never swallowed before, but I wasn’t ready to break character yet, and the scenario had me feeling adventurous enough to try it. He pumped my mouth full, and it took a few swallows to get it all. It didn’t taste good, but I was surprised to find I didn’t mind. In fact I was glad I had done it, it made me feel sexy.

I just sat there with my head in his lap, gently sucking. His dick twitched a few times, and a bit more dripped out. I drank that too. Finally he said “That was awesome. I can’t believe you did it. You’re sure that was okay?”

I took his dick out just long enough to say “I live to serve, master.” I put it back in and kept gently sucking. He smiled, and it was somewhere between relief, elation, and hunger. “Alright, I’m not going to tell you to stop. Get over on the bed and lie down.” I hopped up and swayed my hips as I walked over to the bed. He stripped off his shirt and got the rest of the way out of his pants while I stretched out on the bed. He walked over to the edge, grabbed my legs and pulled them apart.

“Now I’m going to enjoy you.” He said as he crawled between my legs. I couldn’t help wondering if he was doing this because he was in control, or because it was my turn.

“Master, my body is to please you. You don’t need to please me.” He smiled up at me, but this time he looked like I’d just fallen into a trap.

“I’m the master, right?” he asked.

“Yes, master.”

“And you’re my slave.”

“Yes, master. I exist to serve you.”

“And you questioned my command?”

“I’m sorry, master. I live only to serve.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to straighten this out. Stand up and lean over the bed.” I wasn’t quite sure where he was going with this, but I said “Yes, master.” and did it.

He walked around behind me. There was a pause, and then a loud smack as he slapped my ass. I yelped at the unexpected sting. I’d never really thought about spanking much before, so I had no idea how hot that could be. The surprise, the sting, the air of power he had. He did it again, on the other side, and I quickly said “I’m sorry master!” Smack, back to the first side. “I will obey without question!” Smack again. I think I almost came. I never knew he had this in him. “I won’t question your commands again!” One last smack, and this time I squealed. A few more and I think I would have actually orgasmed.

He seemed satisfied with his work and said “Good, slave. Spread your legs.”

I quickly said “Of course, master.” I braced myself on the bed and did it. He sat down on the floor between my legs, with his back to the bed. He lifted his face right up to my clit and started licking. I was so hot from his spanking me that I dropped my face into the bed for support as I shuddered.

“No slave, hold yourself up with your arms, keep them straight so I can see your boobs swinging while I lick you.” He leaned his head back so he could look up while he licked. I worked myself up so I was leaning on the bed, my arms locked and holding me so I was leaning just a bit forward, my legs spread far enough apart to put my clit at the perfect level for him to lick while sitting on the floor. I tried to give some sort of affirmation, but it just came out as a loud moan. I couldn’t believe how good it felt to have him ordering me, to obey him while he had his face between my legs. I started exaggerating my reactions to his efforts so that my boobs would bounce around more. It was only a few minutes before my entire body tensed up as I orgasmed. He grabbed my hips and ground his face into me while I came, then backed off and started licking gently. He kept licking for a while, setting off spasms of pleasure that were somewhere between aftershocks and smaller orgasms of their own.

Eventually he let go of my hips and said “Now I want you on your back on the bed with your head hanging over the side. Then close your eyes and open your mouth.”

I said “Thank you for commanding me master” and got into position. I had to wait a minute as he moved around a bit. Being in his room, with my eyes closed, I couldn’t quite figure out what he was doing. But then he slid his dick in my mouth and started slowly pumping it in and out. Once he’d built up a rhythm he leaned over and started licking my clit again. For a few minutes he just kept it going, pumping my face and licking my clit. Then he shifted a bit, I couldn’t tell what was going on until I felt the pressure of him pushing one of my toys into me. I was wet enough that it slid right in, and I found out which toy it was when he turned the vibrator on. The combination of his tongue on my clit, his dick in my mouth, and the vibrator in my pussy had me on the edge of another orgasm immediately. He could tell I was building up, and started pushing further into my throat, longer slower strokes. I was starting to struggle to breath just as I finally went over the edge, and he shoved himself all the way down as I screamed into his dick. His dick was in my throat, the vibrator was buzzing deep in me, and his tongue was pressed on my clit. He held all three as I came and came, and I was seeing stars and the room was spinning when he finally let up. I gasped for breath as I slid up onto the bed to give myself the support I need while I got my bearing.

He looked a little guilty and said “Hey, hope that wasn’t too much. You okay?”

Okay wasn’t the word. Here I was pretending to be his slave and I’d just had the best sex of my life. And as great as he had been, he had only cum once and he was still hard. I wasn’t ready to let him off the hook yet. “Nothing is too much for you master. Please command me, enjoy me, I am your devoted servant.”

He looked a little worried for a second, then laughed. “Alright, you’re going to spoil me. But as long as you’re going to keep it up, I’m going to enjoy it. Stand up, slave.” I hopped out of the bed. I was a bit unsteady from cumming so much, but I was determined to keep in character. He plopped down in the middle of the bed. “Slave, oil up your cleavage, then come over here and fuck me with your boobs.”

“Master, you give the best commands.” I purred. I swayed my hips over to the drawer with the oil and bent at the waist to get it. I stood up on my toes while I found the bottle, and then made a big production squeezing it on and rubbing it all over my boobs. I was pinching my nipples and squeezing my thighs together when I realized I was getting a bit carried away. I dropped to the ground and crawled over to the edge of the bed, up into it, and between his legs. I squeezed my boobs around his dick and started rubbing up and down. I was really into it at first, but he surprised me by holding out. So I just kind of zoned out while I watched his dick pop in and out of my cleavage. He looked like he was in heaven, so I wasn’t complaining.

“Go get your vibrator, hold it on your clit while you do that.”

It took a second to find my vibrator, so I went and oiled up a bit more before I went back to it. It was a little tricky with one hand, but I made it work. Once I found a position that worked I closed my eyes and just kept moving my boobs, squeezing his dick, loosing myself in the feeling of the vibrator on my clit. I think I was enjoying it as much as him.

He reached down and started pinching my nipples, which shot electricity through my entire body and pushed me from relaxed enjoyment of the erotic sensation to racing to orgasm. When I was almost there he said “Quick, stick it in your mouth!” I didn’t bother answering and just did it. It was a good thing, because he let loose the second I had it all the way in my mouth. And that was right when I orgasmed again too. I couldn’t swallow while I was orgasming, so I just let it spill out of my mouth.

He collapsed back on the bed, and while the vibrator still on my clit pushed me over a second time. I sucked hard on his cock as I came. I heard him gasp, and he propped himself up on his elbows and said “Okay, babe, you can stop now.” I was relieved as I turned the vibrator off and sat up, wiping the semen from my mouth. We both just sat there breathing hard for a minute.

And then something odd happened. I said “Master, I’m sorry I didn’t drink it this time. Please let me clean you up.” And before he had responded I hurried out of the room to get some towels. I was walking around his house naked, my boobs were oiled up, I had semen on my face, and I wasn’t worried about any of it. In fact the only thing on my mind was how excited I was to see his reaction when I got back and he found out I was still pretending to be under his spell. I knew how weird that was, and in the back of my mind I was starting to wonder if I was playing or if the book contained real magic.

I got back pretty fast, and he was sitting up in the bed, looking concerned. I was still wondering if I could make myself stop or not as I put one hand towel over the wet spot he’d moved away from, then slid in between his legs to clean off his dick with another. I decided I didn’t want to stop yet anyway.

His jaw hung open as he watched. Finally, when I’d finished I flattened myself down and started absentmindedly rubbing his dick. I asked “What now, master?”

He shook his head and said “Um, this is going to go to my head. I think you should be yourself again.” And it was like a lightswitch. Pretending to be his slave had been a great idea, and I didn’t ever want to stop. Until he said that, and then I knew it was time to stop. A second ago I couldn’t imagine not wanting to pretend to be his adoring servant, now I couldn’t imagine not acting like my normal self. I sat up on the bed and crossed my legs. I did the math.

“Hon, I think that was real.” I said quietly. I probably should have been worried, but it didn’t bother me. Rather, I was really happy about it. I looked down, but he could see that I was smiling, and I don’t think he had any idea what to make of it all.

“What, you mean you didn’t really want to do that?”

“No, nonono. Not at all. I did. I wanted to, and I loved everything. But, like, that’s all i wanted. I mean, if someone had offered me a million dollars to disobey you, I wouldn’t have been interested. And it would have seemed totally normal to me, like that was a brilliant choice. I would have thought it was my idea and I was being really clever.” He just sat there starting at me with his mouth hanging open. “Um, hello?”

He blinked and said “Wow, that’s a lot to take in. So what about now? I told you to be yourself, but the spell was supposed to make you obey me. Are you just acting like yourself because I told you to, or are you back to normal?”

I shrugged. “How would I know. I feel like myself. Heck, I’ve felt like myself the whole time, I just thought I was playing a game until I noticed I that you telling me to act different made me feel different.” It was a pretty good question. It’s not like he had broken the spell, if it was real wouldn’t it still be working?

He said “Can I test something, then?”

“You can do whatever you want.” I clapped my hands over my mouth. I hadn’t thought about the answer, it had just popped out. Through my hands I said “I mean, sure.” I let my hands drop and said “Sheesh, I didn’t mean to say it like that. So that probably answers that, doesn’t it?”

He shrugged and said “Probably. So, what now?”

I thought for a second. “Well, I’m probably the wrong person to ask, but I think you should do whatever you want. And tell me to do whatever you want.”

“Man, that’s just not fair. Okay, well I want to get a better idea of how this works.” Then he adopted that same over acting voice he had used earlier and said “You are my slave once more!”

Instantly I tucked my legs under me, stuck my hands straight up, bowed to him and said “I am yours to command, master.” And this time I really meant it. This time I didn’t think I was messing with him or playing a game, all I could think about was how much he would love that it really worked, and how awesome the sex was before, and how much better it would be now that we could just do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted.

I heard him breathing hard for a minute before he said “Okay, I need to get that book. If I study it some more maybe I can undo it.”

I didn’t look up, but I was pretty sure I knew what he would like. “Of course master, please study the book more. But don’t undo this, and please allow me to serve you with my mouth while you read.”

He stammered a bit before he finally said “You should be yourself again.”

I straightened up. “Okay, I’m myself again. Now please promise me you’ll leave me like this. And can I suck your dick while you’re reading? Please?”

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