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Hard Lessons

Hard Lessons

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Looking back, I can’t believe it took me so long to realize how smoking hot my tutor was.

Granted, I was massively distracted by the difficulty of the subject I was trying to learn. I had a physics midterm coming up, and if I blew it I was screwed. I needed to pass the course if I wanted to stay in college. My future was hanging in the balance.

My own professor recommended Mandy as a tutor. I was to go to her house twice a week for immersive lessons in this very tough scientific discipline.

She was probably somewhere in her 40s, had an easy manner and was highly intelligent. In those first couple visits, she registered as an attractive woman only in the abstract for me. My brain recorded her well-maintained figure, her nicely mounded breasts, shapely legs and elegant features. But the age gap kept those attributes from arousing me. Stupid me.

In the initial sessions, my mind got overloaded with the material. Momentum, energy, impulse — all those physics principles whirled together into a hopeless mass, and I was in despair. Mandy was quite gentle, pouring tea and trying again and again to talk me through the subject. She obviously had a perfect grasp on what I needed to know, but I seemed incapable of absorbing it.

The third time I was at her place, she finally showed some frustration with me. She’d spent a half hour repeating the same point, and I didn’t get it. Suddenly she slapped her hand hard on the table. The sound was like a gunshot, and I jumped in my chair.

She looked sternly at me, her face a forbidding mask and her eyes as hard as flint. Something strange but powerful stirred in me. My stomach fluttered, and gooseflesh stood up on my arms. Weirder still, the principle she’d been explaining abruptly came full-blown into my mind. I said it back to her, then applied the knowledge flawlessly to a problem.

When she smiled, it was like being given some grand reward. I almost whimpered in pleasure and asked for a pat on the head. That peculiar stirring stayed with me, and only after I left that day did I realize how horny I was. I went back to my dorm and jerked off half the night, with Mandy’s severe-looking face hovering over me in my mind.

After that, I was keenly aware of her stern beauty. What a gorgeous woman she was! I snuck longing looks at her. But I still desperately needed her tutoring.

Now, though, when I got stuck on something Mandy would slap the table to get me focused. I found myself looking forward to those intense demonstrations of emotion. She started to add a few other tricks, talking sharply to me when I got something wrong or making me stand up and apologize for not working hard enough.

Each time she pushed the boundary a little farther, and I got more excited. I had an almost constant hard-on during our sessions. But the approach continued to work. When she was strict with me, I learned better.

I was also aware of how she was looking at me, with a new glimmer in her eyes. She would softly bite her underlip and give me lustful looks. Though we didn’t say anything about it, something strong was building between us.

The attraction was mixed together with my newfound submissiveness. I wanted her to be severe with me. I wanted… wanted… well, I didn’t know what exactly. I’d never had feelings like these before.

One day I eagerly showed up at her house, as arranged. When I entered the unlocked front door, she came into the room and I gasped at the sight of her. My cock stiffened in my jeans, and my jaw dropped.

Mandy was dressed in a tight black blouse, a leather miniskirt, black stockings and high heels. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, giving her a cool but menacing look. She wore sexy librarian glasses and gazed at me with eyes that brimmed with dark eroticism.

She also held an old-fashioned riding crop in her hand.

“Sit down, James,” she said in an icy voice. “The lesson will now begin.”

My knees shook as I sat at the table. By now I’d learned enough physics to get through my midterm, but I wouldn’t have missed this tutoring session — or whatever was going to happen instead of it — for the world.

She proceeded almost like normal, except for the “headmistress” outfit she was wearing and the unyieldingly stern tones she used. Instead of sitting with me, she paced back and forth behind me, high heels clicking on the floor. She tapped the crop against her stockinged thigh, and my body tingled with desire.

She asked questions, and when I didn’t answer fast enough, she smacked the table with the leather implement. The sound made my heart race. I didn’t fully understand what was happening to me, but my every instinct told me to go down this dangerous path with her, wherever it led.

I pretended not to know the answer to the next question. Mandy spun on me, eyes ablaze as she barked, “You should know this! Stand up!”

I launched to my feet, trembling as a wicked smile moved her sensual lips.

In a throaty whisper, she demanded, “Lower your trousers.”

We were crossing all sorts of lines, but I didn’t hesitate. With my belt buckle jingling in my shaky hands, I undid my jeans and pushed them down to my knees.

“Your underwear, too,” she demanded.

My stiff cock sprang out as I removed my briefs. My dick was so hard it was almost painful. Mandy looked at my throbbing meat, then said, “Bend over the table.”

I leaned so far over that my head touched the wood. My bare ass was prominently exposed. A sense of intense vulnerability came over me, but at the same time I was fantastically turned on. I didn’t bother wondering what that said about me. I gave myself over to the moment.

Mandy click-clacked around the table. I heard her deep breaths and realized she, too, was aroused. She halted behind me and said, “You’re making me do this to you.”

With that the riding crop whistled through the air, and a stinging slap seared my ass cheek. I yelped loudly. Though the blow was intense, I felt more than pain.

A great hunger opened up within me, one I’d never been fully aware of before in my life. I was gripping the far edge of the table. My knuckles were white, and my whole body shivering.

“Have you learned your lesson?” she demanded.

I didn’t want the moment to end.

“No!” I cried out. “Teach me more!”

Somehow, without even seeing her, I was sure she was grinning. I heard another swish of air as she raised the instrument of discipline. The anticipation was excruciating. I wanted her to hurt me again, even though my body instinctively flinched from the notion. The tension of that conflict only worsened my wicked arousal.

The crop came down and punished my ass. She put all her strength behind the blow. I hoped she was enjoying it as much as me. Though my ass throbbed, my cock also twitched, and I felt pre-come ooze from my cockhead.

“The crop whistled through the air, and a stinging slap seared my ass.”

My head was spinning; I’d had my share of sexual fun, but this experience was something else. There had been an empty space inside me before Mandy came and filled it. How could I have ever guessed that what I needed, on some secret level, was to be whipped by my sexy older tutor?

“Teach me!” I cried out in a raw voice, the words leaping out of me unbidden. “More!”

I heard a rustle of fabric behind me before Mandy’s menacing high heels continued to clack on the floor once more. She struck one side of my ass, adding to the heat — and my arousal. Then she smacked the other cheek. As I clung to the tabletop, leaving my abused butt exposed, I realized she had some real skill with the crop. The hurt she was delivering me was very controlled, potent though it was.

I called out for further discipline, and she continued to provide it. The sound of the riding crop singing through the air was hypnotic. Mandy’s breathing grew ragged, every blow accompanied by a groan. Unmistakably, she was getting off on abusing me.

As if through a haze, I finally saw her lay the crop down on the table next to my head. Her hands touched my shoulders, and I was drawn slowly upright. The room twirled in my vision as if I was drunk.

Mandy turned me to face her, and I saw she’d removed her blouse and skirt. She stood before me only in her heels and thigh-high stockings. Her body was glorious, her tits firm and high, her skin like poured cream. Her hair had come loose from her bun, the tendrils framing her lovely face.

She took me into her arms, cradling my head against her breasts. I felt her warm lips brush my temple. Then she gently guided me back onto the chair I’d originally occupied.

My well-whipped ass touched the wooden seat, and I flinched but still appreciated the extra dose of hurt. I looked up deliriously at my fierce beauty. I could tell she’d been watching me closely, making certain I was okay. She must have sensed she was my introduction to kink.

Mandy reached down and took hold of my cock, causing pleasure to shoot through me. Grinning, she straddled the chair and lowered her cunt onto my achingly erect shaft. I sat there, on my whipped ass, and felt her hairless pussy enclose my needy dick.

She sank herself all the way to my root, then gripped the back of my chair and started riding me. Her cunt felt like liquid silk, and I enjoyed the sight of her tits bouncing before my face. When her climax was fast approaching, she told me to come with her. I obediently unloaded with shattering pleasure, spurting into her hot snatch.

I would do anything my mistress said.