Alyssa's Training (The Virgin Slave Stories) Page 3

  She was so wet right now. She silently thanked her trainer for binding her hands, or else she'd be selfishly masturbating right now, spilling the drinks everywhere. And the last thing she wanted to do was disgrace herself before the men. Her tongue worked all the more heavily against the gag.

  Alyssa scarcely noticed when the glasses were lifted away; their wet chill lingered behind on her sore back. The conversation continued a while longer, then one voice after another left it slowly, with the sound of footsteps accompanying each departing voices. Finally, she was left alone, the room going absolutely silent. She stayed where she was put all the same. Someone might come back, after all.

  But when someone did come to her next, it was to haul her away, wheels of the platform squeaking noisily as she was dragged away. Alyssa hoped briefly she would be taken back to her cage now. She was utterly exhausted; the only thing she wanted as much as to be fucked was to have a chance to rest her tired, aching body.

  Mercifully, Alyssa's wish was granted. After an agonizingly long trip on the platform, she heard the familiar sound of a cage opening. Without a comment from her handler, she was lifted up and let to drop a few inches above the metal floor of her cage. He reached down, tugging her blindfold in a single, rough motion, snapped her name-tag off of her earring, then locked her in the cage. All her other bonds stayed in, leaving her in that cramped, bent position. The only difference now was the mirrors surrounding her. Her cheeks burned as she looked at herself, trussed up and cuffed. Alyssa tried to wriggle her back end, to see if she could find out how widely-stretched her asshole was. But she didn't have the room at all to move her ass far enough to look. The cage wasn't especially cramped, but she'd need to turn herself sideways to get a proper look, and she couldn't manage that at all.

  Still, she tried a while longer to little success, up until the lights went out, leaving her so in the dark she couldn't see the bars in front of her face. Alyssa took that as a cue to rest her cheek against the bottom of the cage, probably the most comfortable position she could manage. She did miss pillows a little bit, but needing to sleep like this would teach her the discipline she so sorely needed. Alyssa licked the ball-gag one more time and closed her eyes. The last thing that occurred to her before sleep took her was that today, they hadn't even given her a name at all.

  About the Author

  Mild-mannered librarian by day, steamy smut writer by night, Leandra Jane Piper revels in bringing you only the steamiest sex scenes she can pen. From schoolboys taking it hard up the ass to lonely housewives taking it in every hole, she knows exactly what stories will make the absolute most of your time alone. Look for all her sizzling stories on Amazon at her author page!

  Other Stories by Leandra J. Piper

  Date Night Slut

  Secret Locker Room Fuck

  My Teacher the Whore

  The Forbidden Seductions Series:

  1) Daddy's Sexy Graduation Present

  2) The Stepmother Slut Project

  3) Wet for Daddy

  The Pimp my Nymph Series:

  1) Faerie Slave Fuck

  2) Elves do Anal

  3) Goblin Blowjob Orgy

  4) Dragons Dominate Damsels

  Water and Air: An Erotic Fairy Tale

  1) The Sea's Blessing

  Saloon Suck

  The Grade Slut

  1) Fucking for Grades

  2) Gangbang for Grades

  3) Fucking for Finals

  My Werewolf Life

  1) My Were-Brother Bit Me

  2) My New Pack Bit Me

  Her First Shoot

  The Muse

  Perfectly in Love

  Tough Biker Gets Turned

  Spanking the Princess

  The Virgin Slave Stories:

  1) Alyssa's Capture

  The Shaming of the Warrior Princess

  Excerpt from Fucking for Grades

  The Professor made kind of a chuckle at her that made her feel even smaller. He looked her up and down, the look behind his glasses like he was mentally undressing her. She squirmed a bit from the attention, feeling a bit of dampness in her panties. She was good-looking and dressed to flatter that more than a little, almost always showing some of her ample cleavage, but she wasn't quite used to being so openly ogled. She tossed her head just a bit, settling her chestnut waves on her shoulder. It wasn't turning her on, was it? She had to admit, it kind of was.

  Professor Morgan set his books back down, and made a bit of a show of looking through his grade-book, running his finger down the page for her name, searching around, before finally pinpointing it right at the top. "Ah, yes," he said, tapping her name. "Allison Anderson. Don't you think it's too little, too late, coming to me now? I see you've spectacularly failed the mid-term. Or do you really think you have even half a hope of passing the final now, given your current performance?"

  Allison's cheeks burned, and she let her gaze drop right to the floor. She heard the professor made a satisfied kind of grunt at that. The words kind of stumbled out of her. "I, I, I understand it's late in the term, Professor. But I need this course in order to graduate. But I just don't get it. I was hoping you could... If you could tell me what to do. So I know how to get it right, right enough to pass at least." Saying it while he looked at her like that made her feel hot all over, and her panties even wetter.

  "That, Miss Anderson," said the Professor coldly, "is what I teach the class for. I am not a private tutor. You cannot seriously expect that I would have either the time or the inclination to go over every bit of material we have covered over the past two and a half months, can you?"

  If there were any way to look even lower than straight down, Allison would have done just that. "No, I, I guess not. I just wanted to, you know, to try and make up what I could. I don't want to have to repeat this course, is all." God, how could saying something like that make her even wetter? She felt about two feet tall. She squirmed uncomfortably, then blinked a few times when the professor took her chin in his hand firmly, lifting her head up to look him in the eye. He was enjoying making her feel this way, she could see it right in his eyes. Allison squirmed again, wetting her lips.

  His eyes dropped to her cleavage, gaze running over it like fingers."You want me to tell you what you have to do in order to pass this class?" he said. The Professor smiled triumphantly at her when she made a meek little nod against his hand. "Lift up your skirt, then," he said commandingly. "Show me your panties." Allison glanced over her shoulder for a moment, at the open classroom door. People were still walking by in the hall outside. The nervous look she gave the Professor only made his smile get a little more mocking. "Do you want a passing grade or not? Up with your skirt."

  She thought about walking out right then and there. But, she couldn't help but feel like he was right. If this was her only chance to pass, shouldn't she go along with it? She lowered her fingers to the lower hem of her skirt, about an inch above her knee. At the Professor's impatient nod, she flipped her skirt up, holding the hem just below her tits. Her cheeks burned, and she squirmed all over. The Professor dropped his gaze, looking over the tight, lacy black panties she'd picked out in anticipation of her date tonight.

  Professor Morgan licked his lips, then reached down, right between her legs, feeling just how wet she'd gotten them from the way he'd been shaming her. "You little whore," he whispered, in a pleased little tone. "You were planning this all along, weren't you? You knew you'd have no chance to earn a rightful grade, so you decided to tart yourself out and sell what's between your legs for it, didn't you?" Allison couldn't help but grind against his fingers, the way her pussy was aching. It didn't give her much relief, but it helped a little bit.

  Buy the full version of Fucking for Grades here.

 

 

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