Lisa's Journey

Lisa's Journey

By Zarch

Chapter 1

I was teaching at a liberal arts college located close to but not in a large city. I also served as the faculty advisor to the campus politics society.

We were having a meeting of that society at my apartment. We were planning our activities to help our favorite congressman get reelected. Once the plan had been agreed upon, we had sat around discussing all sorts of ideas, as is common among college students and faculty. I was the only faculty member, and the rest were a mix of male and female students. Lisa, a beautiful redhead, was automatically one of the leaders of the society. She carried a 4.00 GPA in a double major of Biology and philosophy. She was a few inches shorter than my six feet, with lovely green eyes, a pale complexion, and that long lovely red hair that she wore loose and flowing.

As was usual, Lisa had on blue jeans and a loose silk blouse. The jeans were not tight, and neither was the blouse. I assumed she dressed this way to hide a desirable body; large firm breasts, beautifully spread hips and long slim athletic legs. It didn't work. I had long fantasized about what was inside those loose fabrics. Her blouses were always almost completely buttoned up, with only the top button unbuttoned.

I was sitting on an easy chair while students sprawled all over the sofa and the floor. Lisa sat on the floor next to me. She was wearing a white silk blouse, blue jeans and sandals. Surprisingly, the top three buttons of the blouse were not in use. Every time she leaned forward; I got a nice view; a black lace bra lifted and displayed a pair of creamy mounds.

She leaned forward often. I wondered if she was purposely giving me extra views. She probably knew most males would be interested. Was my interest not unwelcomed? More to fantasize about.

Personal relationships between faculty and students were frowned upon by the administration, but not forbidden. I had to be careful; I wasn't tenured yet. She was not one of my students; she had no need for any of my courses. I knew her only because I was only her academic advisor; I always was assigned to advise students with double majors.

After we had finished business, and had a few snacks, the students began leaving. I got involved in sending them off, making sure they didn't leave any belongings behind. Everything got stuffed into the proper book bags, and off they went, except for Lisa. She was in the kitchen, cleaning up the remains of the snacks. I went in to thank her, and she turned and faced me. Then, without a word she came and stood closely in front of me, with her hands hanging at her sides; she waited silently. A tentative smile graced her lips. I hid my surprise as she calmly looked at me with what I realized was an offering.

She looked calm and relaxed, just waiting for me to react. I could either step back and just thank her for doing the cleanup, or step forward, grab her, and pull her into an embrace that would be more than a simple hug of appreciation. Two choices; one sensible and safe, and the other exciting and dangerous. After a short hesitation, I threw caution to the winds and reacted by reaching for her, and pulling her roughly to me. I felt her breasts push into my chest. Her arms wrapped around me in a willing embrace.

She lifted her face toward mine, and I gave up all my inhibitions and gently kissed her. She wasn't satisfied with "gentle." Her lips pressed hard against mine, and mouth opened and our tongues intwined, sending waves of passion through both of us.

I slid my right hand from her back and under her left arm to caress her gently, and then to her breast. I gently massaged it, feeling her hard nipple. She pressed her chest forward, and I stopped the massage and started squeezing hard. She moaned and arched her back, pressing her breast into my hand.

Her moans got louder as I kissed and squeezed.

Then, instead as continuing as she obviously wished, I released her breast, dropped my hands to her arms, and pushed them down to her sides, and held them there briefly, before releasing her. Her arms remained in place.

I stepped back, looked straight into her beautiful green eyes and said,

"Wait."

She said nothing, while she stood where she was, her body quivering in apparent frustration. Her eyes were asking, "Why?"

I answered in my most authoritative voice:

"Before we go on to where we both want to go, you should be aware of what kind of man I am, and what that means for you."

She looked into my eyes, but remained silent.

She waited,

I continued: "I am a dom. That is short for dominant. That means when I enter a sexual relationship with a woman, I require her submit to my demands; to immediately do whatever I tell her to do. I give the orders, and she obeys. She becomes what is called a 'Sub,' which is short for 'submissive.' That means she submits to all of my demands. She gives me total control of her body. That is, she gives ownership of her body to me, as if I had purchased it at an auction. She becomes my sex slave. In sexual situations I am free to do whatever I want with or to her, whenever I want. Her only option is to obey.

If she fails to act this way she will be punished. I enjoy the act of punishing, because I am also a sadist; I enjoy inflicting pain. With some women, pain can be erotic and give sexual pleasure, depending upon who is administrating the pain. That is the woman's concern; it is not mine. I don't care if she is a masochist or not. I enjoy her reaction in any case. Of course, she can end the relationship at any time by simply saying she is ending it. I won't protest. I only want a willing submissive. I do not engage in rape or assault. If she doesn't end the relationship, she and I would agree on a "safe word," that she can say to stop anything I am doing to or with her. Uttering that word will bring any activity to a full stop.

There may be times when I will inflect pain just because I feel like doing it. A submissive woman is my slave and toy, to do with as I please, until she utters the safe word. The simplest safe word is "no. That is the one we would use.

She must not pretend reluctance; "no" must mean no.

She must enter this relationship of her own free will. She must also know that the Dom/Sub relationship is one-sided. I can do anything I want. She cannot.

For instance, I already have several casual subs at my beck and call. They are not exclusive to me; they are community subs. The community is made up of members of the local BDSM club. There are several of us, and our clubhouse, is in the city; In it we share these subs. Some Doms have private subs, who are not shared with other dominants. You would be private, but I might introduce you to some of the community subs, by having them help me use you. A Dom/sub relationship does not have to be romantic; using does not require loving. The life of a sub is harsh because the Dom makes it so. The sub must enter the relationship with no expectations other than the abuse by the Dom. In particular, I have a breast fetish. I enjoy doing all sorts of painful things to a sub's breasts. Know that being a submissive is often painful.

I am going to leave you now and go through that door into my bedroom. You can make you choice freely; come join me or leave and go home. In either case, my admiration and high regard for you as a student and person will not change. You are one of the good ones; You have a superior brain and you are willing to work hard. You will succeed in whatever you decide to do professionally, regardless of our relationship, be it professor and student, friend and friend, advisor and advisee, or dominant and submissive.

Without touching her again, I went into the bedroom, and shut the door behind me. I had made submission sound as bad as I could. She would have to be deeply interested in me to accept submission. My hypothesis was that I had scared her off. I would wait for the experimental results.

She remained silent during my exit.

I sat in the chair by the bed, picked up a book and read while I waited for the sound of the outside door opening and closing. I didn't want to hear that. But I expected to; However, I was aroused and I felt my cock growing rigid in hopeful anticipation. There was silence while I read. Then I heard the click of the front door being locked. I had not heard it open.

After a few more minutes she walked slowly into the room. I closed the book, placed it on the bedside table and stood up. She stopped in front of me.

She looked into my eyes, then lowered hers, and softly said, "I come freely to submit to you. I have wanted to feel your hands on my body ever since your guest appearance in my literature class; when you gave your scathing condemnation of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, blaming it for romanticizing love-sick suicide. Your commanding voice and your ideas excited me both intellectually and sexually. I will never forget how you thundered, Romeo should have tried to honor her with his life, not dishonored her by his useless death. Then you really thrilled me by adding that the same must be said about Juliet. Her death was just as shameful, but knowing the 'blame the woman' culture in which she was raised, perhaps forgivable."

She went on. "I loved the way you answered all our questions, defending your position ably against those hopeless romantics, completely defeating them. Your clear comparison of Romeo' death to the death of those who gave their lives defending their loved ones was memorable. You said, 'Even if you fail, as Hector did, there is honor is dying while defending. That's why our school mascot is the Trojan. There is no honor in dying for self-pity. No school has Montague for a mascot.' I wonder if you saved any lives that day."

Her total recall amazed me.

She paused, then continued: "I was so excited when you were appointed as my new academic advisor. When I entered your office for our first advising session, I was fantasizing about becoming Heloise to your Abelard, but with no threat of the same ending."

Then she came to me, grasped my right hand and pulled it to her left breast. I resumed squeezing it and kissing her hungry lips. My cock grew and pushed to get out of my jeans. I did not want to rush; I wanted to savor her active submission slowly. I stayed in control while I crushed her breast and lips. She moaned and arched her back to push her breast into my hand.

I broke off the kiss, released her breast and undid the rest of the blouse buttons. Then, with both hands I grasped her throat, briefly choking her to let her feel the power I had over her life, and then pushed the blouse off her shoulders onto the floor. I pushed her bra straps off those beautiful shoulders and reached behind her back and unhooked her bra and let it join the blouse on the floor, leaving those gorgeous shoulders and lovely white mounds open to my view. Her pink nipples were standing at attention.

I slid my hands back up her arms squeezed those shoulders hard enough to enhance their beauty with some bruises. She moaned softly.

Turning my attention to those erect nipples, I pinched them between thumbs and forefingers and pulled her to me. She came willingly to me, lifting her lips to invite another crushing kiss. I accepted the invitation, while my hands explored her naked back, pulling her breasts hard against my chest.

I released her for a moment, then picked her up and laid her on her back in the center of the bed, with her head flat against the mattress. I reached down and picked up the pillow that I had just tossed on the floor to make room for her to lay flat. I slipped my other arm under her shoulders, and lifted her torso. While holding her, I placed the pillow where, when I let her fall back, her breasts were lifted up as her head fell back.

After releasing her, I stood there admiring my handiwork.

She said not a word; she lay there, waiting for my next move.

I grabbed her arms and stretched them out perpendicular to her body. Releasing them with a push that told her to keep them in that crucifixion position; I had no desire to use any restraints, because she offered such arousing complete submissive cooperation. I stood up and stared at the vulnerable vision before me. She did not move, staying in the pose I had given her. Her ragged breathing showed her arousal.

Her sandals had fallen to the floor. I turned my attention to her jeans, unzipping them and pulling them off, along with her lace panties. She now lay there naked and totally vulnerable. Her arms stayed in place.

My eyes devoured those vulnerable breasts.

I gave them my full attention; biting, kissing, sucking, squeezing, twisting her nipples. My teeth and lips left their marks on those pristine mounds. She reacted to this assault on her breasts with small gasps that quickly turned into moans. I grabbed both breasts and pulled her to me and kissed her hard, as she moaned with pain and pleasure. I then released her and pushed her back on the bed.

I took off my shirt and jeans, but retained my boxers, while savoring the discovery that she was one in whom pain quickly became pleasure.

I climbed onto the bed, with my knees on either side of her hips. She could see my erection pushing against my shorts.

She remained silent, except for a soft moan every time I touched her.

I began slapping her breasts, using both hands to give them equal attention. She again arched her back, lifting it off the pillow, and pushing her breasts up. She gave little gasps and moans as I slapped harder, and her breasts began to turn pink. The teeth marks and hickeys enhanced the picture of abuse.

She still said not a coherent word; she moaned as she lay there breathing hard; her arms remained in place.

I stopped, and leaned forward to give her another hard kiss, to which she responded in kind. It was a long and passionate meeting of tongues and minds, as we concentrated on giving and taking pleasure. She understood that her arms were to stay in place until I allowed her to move them.

After I broke off the kiss, I pulled her arms in and placed her hands in position to lift and hold her breasts. I freed my rigid rod from the confines of my shorts, I moved up a little so that it naturally found its place in the valley between those lovely mounds. She understood and pressed them together to give a good grip.

I began a rhythmic thrusting, increasing the frequency as I approached climax. As the climax started, I pushed forward so that my cock touched her lovely mouth. She opened wide so she could take me into her and I spurted my load deeply down her throat. She gagged, but then swallowed it all. As my empty rod became flaccid, she sucked and licked it clean. I pushed her arms back out, even though I could tell she wanted to touch me. This was a lesson; what she wanted was not important; my wishes were all that mattered.

Her hips were grinding under me as I sat on them, enjoying the aftermath of using her. She was panting as her hips moved. I rolled off of her and reached down to give her the joy of being finger-fucked. I slid three fingers into her cunt and matched the rhythm of her hips.

I used my other hand to firmly slap her breasts in the same rhythm. It is good to be ambidextrous.

She kept her arms in place as the rest of her body reacted to my attentions. Her breathing became faster and faster as she gasped and moaned. As she began to erupt in climax, I delivered two extremely hard slaps on her breasts, triggering her huge orgasm as her moans exploded into a scream.

I rolled off of her and held her gently as she came down from that erotic high. I pulled her arms in and released them, letting her know she could now move them as she pleased. She ran her hands over my chest, exploring and caressing in supplication and gratitude.

I caressed her body gently, showing her that it was something of value, not just an abuse target. Soft moans came from deep within her, as she absorbed the message of my gentleness. I held her for quite some time. Then I released her and led her to the bathroom, and into the shower. I turned the hot spray on and gently soaped her body. I had her do the same to me. I rinsed off first, and stepped out, drying myself as she attended to her hair. I returned to the bedroom to dress. As I was pulling on my boxers, she came back into the bedroom.

Her long red tresses partially covered her breasts; she was a vision of Venus at her bath. She stopped, pushed her hair back over her shoulders, and inspected her body in the wall mirror.

I saw her staring at the marks on her breasts. She turned to me with a question in her eyes, but she still did not speak. I broke that spell of silence, and told her to ask her question.

"I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. Do you think she will ask about these marks on my tits?" I was surprised at her use of slang,

I answered: "She probably will ask if this was done to you without your consent. Doctors must report to the police if you have been criminally abused. If you were a willing participant in an erotic encounter, they take it no further. What they think is of no matter. Just be proud that someone is so passionately aroused by you to do this to you.

I continued, "When a man sees womanly perfection, he wants to own it. To see your naked beauty in a thrill. As your Dom I do own your perfect beauty, and the passion that knowledge triggers led to my marking you as mine. Those marks are marks of ownership. I own you. Be proud to be owned.

She still said nothing. She silently moved closer to me, dropped to her knees, and bowed her head, while her hands lifted her breasts, showing that she knew they belonged to me.

I continued, "Remember, this is a dominant/submissive relationship. Yes, I care for you and respect you. But in the bedroom, I will do whatever I want with that lovely body. And you will do whatever I say in all matters pertaining to that body. For instance, no wearing revealing clothes in public. Your body is for my eyes only, unless I tell you to display it to others."

She remained in place, a picture of submissive compliance.

As I looked at that abused perfect body, I got aroused again.

She could certainly see my rod growing rigid again.

I gave a new order: "Go lie down on your back on the bed, with your head hanging over the edge, and your arms stretched along the edge"

After a moment's hesitation, she did.

I stood, looking down at her vulnerable beauty.

"You shouldn't have hesitated," I said. "The next time I give an order, I expect instant obedience. You will be punished for that lapse."

Her answer was to remain in place, waiting.

I went to my desk and picked up two paper clamps from the center drawer.

I walked over and pressed my now-rigid rod onto her lips.

She opened her mouth and took all of it in. Her tongue became active and further stimulated my erection. I did not start to fuck that warm hole; I just enjoyed the sensation of her caressing tongue.

I then reached over and grasped her erect nipples, and clamped them with the paper clamps. Her body twitched at the sudden pain as she gasped and then moaned.

I began slapping her breasts again, but not hard enough to knock the clamps off.

I then started to deeply fuck her mouth, stopped slapping and grasped both breasts and squeezed firmly. Her moans got louder and her head began to move with me to get my rod deeper and deeper into her. She managed to take in the whole length. I pulled off the clamps from her nipples as I ejaculated into that sweet mouth. She gasped at the sudden new pain in her nipples and almost gagged, but she swallowed my whole load as she followed me into climax.

As we slowly came down from our mutual high, I turned her, and climbed onto the bed, took her into my arms and held her gently. I felt we were about to fall asleep together, but my imagination opened, and a vision of her naked and willing body in my arms triggered a slow arousal of my cock. It was still awake.