MASTERING THE PROFESSOR
TAKEN ON THE DINNER TABLE
by A.J. Steele
Having fallen under the spell of billionaire Dominant and avowed sadist, Gage Rutherford, Professor Emma Burke agrees to have dinner with him the night after he commandeered both her office and her body and took her bent over her own desk. After all, she keeps telling herself, it’s just dinner, right? In a crowded restaurant, full of people? What could possibly go wrong?
But Gage is pure alpha male, who never does the expected. When Emma steps into the car he sends for her, she is immediately immersed in his world of highly erotic BDSM. A world that demands her total surrender. A world that promises both never-ending torments and mind-blowing pleasure for the submissive Emma.
When she discovers that dinner is not in a restaurant, but at his house, and she is the dessert, well… Is it too late to turn around and go back home?
She lay down on the table, adjusting her shoulders to get comfortable.
Gripping her ankles, he spread her legs wide, bending her knees and pushing them up toward her head. “Hold your legs up just like this so I can see both your pussy and your ass.”
Grabbing her legs behind her knees, she pulled them up as high as she could, until they were practically resting on the table on either side of her head. The move raised her ass completely up off the table. Considering all the food she’d just eaten, the position placed uncomfortable pressure on both her stomach and her lungs, making breathing a bit difficult. She felt his hands, hot and hard caressing her buttocks, warming her skin. His lips followed behind his hands, placing kisses on her smooth, creamy skin.
“Look at that sweet little hole. What a lovely ass you have Ms. Burke. I do believe I am becoming obsessed with it. I can’t wait to see it wearing my stripes. Or red with my handprints. In fact, I have a list of the things I want to do to it. All sorts of nasty, dirty, delightful things. Starting with this.”
He turned the vibrator back on, chuckling at the little shriek that left her throat. He put it on the low, pulsating setting.
“Excellent. Now, let’s get this inspection started.” Starting at the top of her vulva, he ran his index finger over her outer labia, feeling for any stray hairs the technician might have left behind. He slid his fingers through her wetness, all the way to her puckered little ass hole. She was already wet and slippery back there and shivering at his touch. He covered every inch of her vulva, finding no stray hairs. Nothing to mar the smoothness of her skin.
“Well, the technician seems to have gotten every hair. But, just to make sure…” He bent his head forward and sent his tongue rasping along the same path recently blazed by his fingers.
Her body went rigid as pleasure ripped through her. Her head thrashed back and forth on the table as he pleasured her with his tongue, paying special attention to her clit, deliberately bringing her right to the edge of orgasm before backing off. When he finally raised his head, she sagged in relief that she had somehow managed to keep from coming.
He chuckled. “Oh, how I love tormenting you, my dear, sweet Professor. Now, I believe, it’s time for dessert.”
“Oh, God,” she moaned. “No dessert for me, please. I’m stuffed. Really. I couldn’t eat another bite.”
He gave her a wicked grin. “You needn’t worry, my dear. I’ll be the one doing all the eating. You see, you are going to be the dessert.” Scooting his chair back, he stood. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
She just groaned. As if I could.
He left her, only to return a few minutes later carrying a large crystal goblet filled with a rich chocolate mousse, topped with a mound of whipped cream and chocolate curls. Swiping his finger into the cold whipped cream, he dabbed a dollop on the tip of each nipple, making her shiver. He smeared more down the center of her abdomen, raising goose bumps all over her. He continued painting designs with a combination of cream and mousse all over her belly, breasts, and mound.
“Hold your pussy lips open,” he ordered, slathering a thick swath of the dessert along her entire slit, from her clit down to her asshole. Scooping the last of the treat out of the bottom and sides of the goblet, he held his finger to her lips. “Open.”
She opened, taking the sweetness into her mouth, sucking it off his finger.
He smiled down at her. “Good?”
“I can’t wait to try it.” He lowered his head and swiped his tongue across her right nipple, licking off the cream he had placed there. The breath shuddered from her lungs as she writhed under his touch. After licking and suckling for several minutes, he repeated the process with her left nipple. “You have beautiful nipples,” he murmured against her skin. “Perfect breasts.” Slowly, almost reverently he made his way down her body, licking and sucking and kissing all the dessert off of her skin.
By the time he finally arrived at her pussy, she was trembling all over, lost in a fog of pleasure so dense, so pure, she could barely remember where or even who she was. No one had ever worshipped her body the way Gage Rutherford was worshipping it.
Positioning his head between her thighs, he looked up at her, his eyes flickering with lust and arousal and…something else. Something…softer. Gentler. “You have given me a great gift tonight, little one. You have allowed yourself to trust me. You have honored me with your submission and compliance. I think you have fully atoned for your infraction with the panties. Therefore, as I am finishing my dessert…” as he emphasized the last word, he slid his finger through the gooey mousse and whipped cream filling her folds and lifted it to his mouth, where he proceeded to lick and suck it clean. “You may come as many times as you want,” he concluded. “Am I clear?”
“Yes, Sir.” She practically sobbed in relief. “Thank you, Sir. Thank you.”
Taking her hand in his, he bent and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her knuckles. “You are very welcome, Ms. Burke. You have pleased me greatly.”
She just stared up at him, her throat working, tears stinging her eyes, nearly overcome with all the emotions surging through her. Jesus! It would be so easy to fall for this man. Something she knew she must never, ever do. This…thing between them was just sex to him. Certainly, he wasn’t interested in any kind of emotional entanglements. And neither are you, she scolded herself. The last thing you need at this stage in your life is a broken heart.
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From fairies in the garden at age 9 to handcuffs in the boudoir at age 60, Julie’s writing has run the gamut. In between she managed to graduate cum laude with a B.A. in French from Georgia State University followed by a Master’s Degree in Library Science from Emory University. Having thus procured these two necessary but ultimately irrelevant pieces of paper, she launched a successful career as a children’s librarian, followed by an even more successful career as a professional storyteller and puppeteer. She published Kidstuff, an award-winning, monthly newsletter, as well as a book, Puppets, Poems and Songs, both major language arts resource for early childhood educators.
At various points in her life, if asked what she would like to be, her answer would have been (in rough chronological order, since some of these lofty ambitions overlapped): a fairy, a princess, a ballerina, Nancy Drew, Cherry Ames, a paleontologist, Scarlett O’Hara, thin and beautiful, an actress, and a writer. Now, at age 73, her answer to that question would most likely be, “younger”.
Followed closely, of course by bestselling author. Oh, and a princess. Some dreams die hard.
Now retired, Julie lives in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia.
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