Naia and the Professor Part 4

The girl nodded as did Naia.

The man stepped back and to the side so the crowd had a good view of the girl's waiting b.u.t.tocks. He raised his arm and Naia wondered what the cane would feel like against her own backside. She braced herself as it came down on the girl's tender flesh. The girl expelled a breath. She counted the first stroke into the microphone. Naia swallowed.

Another stroke landed on the girl's trembling cheeks. Naia closed her eyes for an instant, imagining she was up there, being watched as she herself was being punished.

The crowd remained hushed, listening to the sound of the cane move through the air then land against the soft b.u.t.tocks of the girl. Each stroke was followed by her forced exhale, a grunt, and sometimes a scream. As she counted, the microphone amplified every breath, every moan, every sound from her lips and Naia found herself mentally saying the numbers along with the girl, not wanting it to stop.

The difference between the force of the strokes was palpable as the punishment neared the end and the man brought the cane down harder. It was incredible, the silence of the crowd, the hiss of the cane before it struck flesh, making a sound Naia would never forget; different from the sound Liam's hand had made as he'd spanked her. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sound of the caning, of the girl's shallow, quick breathing in time with her own.

Sooner than Naia wanted, the girl called out the twelfth stroke. The caning stopped and, as if the crowd had also been holding its breath for the duration, there was a moment of complete stillness before the joint exhale.

The microphone blared the girl's sobs into the s.p.a.ce and Naia watched as her master put the cane down and walked close behind her. He spoke to her so softly his words weren't picked up but her apology was clear as she begged his forgiveness and thanked him for her punishment, for his leniency.

Lenient. Not how Naia would have categorized the fierce caning of the poor girl's now striped b.u.t.tocks.

The curtains closed and the crowd broke instantly into conversation. The line at the bar grew and Naia turned to face Liam, who stood back, his gaze intense as he studied her reaction.

The only light in the office was from the two lamps in the sitting area but his eyes were bright with hunger. "Come here, Naia."

She walked over to him wordlessly, her every step cautious.

"Turn around," he said.

Her eyes wide and her heart racing, she did as he said. It took all she had not to look over her shoulder to see what he was doing.

He was silent as he began to untie her corset. "I'll put you in leather myself, of my choosing, but I don't like you in this. You're not a Domme. It's not who you are. Don't wear it again, understand?"

"I'm not your submissive, Professor. You can't tell me what to do."

She shivered. The temperature in the room seemed to drop by degrees. He slipped the corset off her shoulders and with one hand wound the length of her ponytail around and around his palm. He tugged her closer so her bare back pressed against his chest, his c.o.c.k. He brought his mouth to her ear, his breath controlled and even, completely opposite hers. Holding her in place, he stripped her of her skirt. His free hand found her belly and moved slowly down over her lace panties until it found her throbbing s.e.x and closed around it. Naia shut her eyes, willing her body not to react, but failing. When one finger slid beneath the fine material, she exhaled.

"Naia," he said, kissing her ear as his finger moved inside her panties. "Don't make me repeat myself. You're not to wear it again, do you understand?" Two fingers closed around her c.l.i.t and rubbed.

She pressed her back into him even as her hips thrust into his hand.

"Yes, Professor," she managed to whisper.

"I left some business unfinished earlier," he said, taking his hand from her panties and turning her toward him. Still holding her ponytail, he tugged so it forced her to turn her face up and her eyes to meet his. "Tell me what you want." His mouth closed over hers as soon as he said it. He took her lower lip between his and sucked, consuming her kiss, her breath, and her words. "Tell me," he said still kissing her.

"You. I want you inside me. I want you to f.u.c.k me."

He lifted her easily into his arms, carrying her to his desk and setting her on the edge. Towering over her, he kept his gaze steady on hers. He leaned his head down and took one hardened nipple into his mouth, the other between his fingertips. Kneading the one, he tasted the other, licking first then sucking and nibbling lightly with his teeth so that she arched her back, thrusting her b.r.e.a.s.t.s into his mouth and hand.

"Oh..." she began, placing her hands on his head. "That's good. That's so good."

He straightened and brought his mouth back to her hers, kissing her hard. "Put your arms behind your back and interlace your fingers," he whispered, opening a desk drawer.

She did as he said, kissing him back. She expected him to bind her wrists, but when she felt the leather cuff clamp over, first one, and then the other arm just above her elbow, her breath caught.

"I like that," he said. The way he'd bound her arms forced her to sit upright, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s jutting up and out. "Now," he said, lifting her slightly with one hand, he pulled her panties off with the other. "Let's see how you taste, Naia." He pressed her back against the desk so her weight rested on her elbows. She watched him kneel between her legs and push them apart. His fingers combed through the small triangle of dark hair before settling on either side of her p.u.s.s.y lips, spreading them open. His tongue found her c.l.i.t and she closed her eyes as he began circling the hard nub.

"Ahh..." She moaned when his mouth closed over it and he sucked. One finger found the wet entrance and plunged deep inside her. She called out, wanting to wrap her hands around his head, bury her fingers in his hair and tug him closer to her. "I'm going to come. Oh..."

It was only another moment until o.r.g.a.s.m overtook her as he sucked her c.l.i.t and worked his fingers inside her. Her hips bucked beneath him and she called out his name, wrapping her legs over his shoulders and around his neck, holding him to her the only way she could with her arms bound as they were.

Only when she lay still and let her legs dangle from the desk did he rise, placing his hands on either side of her face.

"Open your eyes, Naia."

She did as he said to find his dark form hulking over her. He kissed her, his lips glistening with her juices.

"You taste so good," he said. "Are you ready for me to f.u.c.k you now? Like I wanted to when you were bent over the desk earlier, your a.s.s red from your punishment?"

"Yes. Oh yes." She said as he pulled her farther forward so her hips were at the edge of the desk.

Reaching inside one of the drawers of his desk, he retrieved a foil packet and opened it. Pushing her thighs wide, he unzipped his pants and sheathed himself with the condom, then, without a hint of gentleness, he thrust his c.o.c.k deep inside her aching p.u.s.s.y.

She cried out, his c.o.c.k too thick, too big. "I can't be gentle, Naia," he said, pulling out and thrusting in deep again.

"I don't want you to be," she said. She wanted to wrap her legs around his hips but he kept them pinned as he pumped into her faster and harder. She lay back and closed her eyes on the verge of her second o.r.g.a.s.m.

"No. Open your eyes. I want to watch you come this time. I want to see you."

She did as he said and never once let her gaze drop while he pummeled into her. She called out as her p.u.s.s.y tightened around his c.o.c.k, waves of o.r.g.a.s.m pulsing through her body. His c.o.c.k twitched when, as he buried himself deep inside her, o.r.g.a.s.m stilled his body over hers. She closed her eyes as he pulled her from the desk and they lay in a heap on the floor.

Chapter 5.

He was silent as he drove her back to the hotel. Every time she glanced at him, she could see his eyebrows were knitted together like he was processing something, reasoning something out. It was a quick ride and when they got there, he cut the engine but stared straight ahead. Naia turned to him.

"Professor?" she asked, unsure where she stood even after the scene in his office.

"Naia," his gaze met hers, giving nothing away.

"I meant what I said. I want to try with you. With us."

He studied her for a long time without speaking.

"Naia," he began, and then looked away, "what I want is so very different than anything you've ever known. I'm not sure..."

"Oh my G.o.d." The realization she was wrong, that he didn't want a relationship or to even try, slowly saturated her brain. "You ... what just happened meant ... nothing to you?" she asked, not sure she wanted an answer. Just then the valet opened her door and they both turned to him.

"Ma'am," he said, holding out his hand to help her out, his eyes darting from her to Liam. The air was heavy and awkward.

"Just a minute," Liam said. The valet closed the door as Naia's eyes pooled with tears.

"Go to bed, Naia. You've had a long day. I have to think about things."

"What things do you have to think about? How many times are you going to reject me in one night?" She wiped at her tears, not wanting them, not wanting to shed them over him. Had she been wrong? Was she so blinded by her feelings for him she didn't see how cold he was?

"I've had relationships with women who thought they wanted what I want. They don't work."

"Then what was that in your office?" Anger was better than hurt. "What, wasn't it good enough? Wasn't I good enough? This was a mistake, an awful mistake and I am so sorry that I ever thought I owed you an apology." Wiping roughly at her eyes and nose, she opened the door but before she could step out, he grabbed her arm and held her.

"It's not like that," his voice was low, calm.

"What do you expect me to believe? I'm human, Professor. With feelings. Do you have any idea what those are or is that not something you deal with in your BDSM world?"

His grip tightened and she could see he was trying hard to control his growing rage.

"Let me go. I want to go," she'd raised her voice. "What, do you want my safe word, is that it?"

He let her go then and turned away from her.

"Good riddance, Professor!" she said, slamming the door shut and running inside.

Liam sat in his SUV and it took him a full minute before he started the engine.

"f.u.c.k!" His fist came down hard on the steering wheel. He had to clear his head. Pulling onto the highway, he drove.

He had feelings for Naia; there was absolutely no denying it. But did he really want to involve her in his world, submit her to his dark desires? What he wanted and needed from a woman was something entirely different than what she'd ever experienced. His last girlfriend claimed she'd wanted it too. She wanted to be a part of his world. But that hadn't lasted six months. The one before her, three months. He was human and he knew very well about feelings. And given the extent of those feelings for Naia, could he handle it if she, like the last two, decided she couldn't do it after all? Decided she didn't want his lifestyle or him?

"G.o.d d.a.m.n it to h.e.l.l!" he cursed. Naia White had the power to bring him to his knees.

She refused to stay in her hotel room thinking about last night. Degrading was the word that kept coming to mind every time she remembered it. How could she have been so wrong about him? She was sad, mad, hurt, and embarra.s.sed and it was just too many feelings to process and, quite frankly, she didn't want to deal with them.

By mid day, fed up and annoyed with herself, she got showered and dressed, and took herself out for lunch.

Several hours and two gla.s.ses of wine later, she went back to her hotel. She'd spend the evening reading her new book and wouldn't think of him at all.

Stepping into her room, she set her bags down and headed for the phone which was blinking with a message. Picking it up, she listened to the voice of the girl at the front desk. Someone had stopped to see her, waited an hour, but when she hadn't returned, he'd left a package and gone. Would she like to have it delivered?

Her heart raced. Would she like it delivered? h.e.l.l yes. She dialed the operator, asking who had been there, if he'd left a name. He hadn't and the girl who was working the desk at the time had gone home. She settled for having them send the package up.

Her hands shook as she took the package from the concierge a few moments later. Setting it on the edge of the bed, she saw her name was written on the top in his fancy cursive handwriting. It had been so long since she'd seen that writing she'd almost forgotten it. She tore the tape off and opened it to find an envelope set upon layers and layers of black tissue paper. Slipping the letter out of its sleeve, she unfolded it.

Naia, A part of me wants to pretend you'd never come into my club last week asking for what you asked for.

Her heart pounded.

But since that night, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind. You spoke about feelings last night and accused me of not having any. Well, you're wrong there. I am a man, human, just like you. And I don't want to get hurt again. I've had relationships with women before who thought they wanted what I had to offer and it's never worked out, not once.

Last night was very special to me. Holding you in my arms when you trusted me enough to make yourself vulnerable, I realize how much courage that took. And how I left things wasn't right. I have feelings for you, Naia, but I don't want to be hurt again. That said-I also can't keep away from you.

She was crying and grinning from ear to ear. Closing her eyes, she brought the envelope to her face and inhaled a deep breath. She swore she could smell the cologne he'd worn when writing it.

What you saw last night was a more extreme aspect of my lifestyle. I'd like to propose that we spend a weekend together where you will have more than a taste of what being with me would be like. I am not an easy man, but I doubt I have to tell you that. I will expect a great deal from you and will only accept your total obedience.

If you decide that you truly want to try, come to the club on Friday night at nine. Be prepared to spend the weekend with me. To give you just a few ideas of what you can expect, I've packed some toys inside this box that may send you running back home. I hope not, but you need to be sure for yourself.

Yours, Professor He had signed Professor. She would have giggled at that if the hiss of the cane descending through air and smacking the girl's bare b.u.t.tocks didn't haunt her at the moment. Putting the thought aside, she peeled back the tissue paper to reveal the items inside.

Unpacking one thing at a time, she laid everything out on the bed and took inventory.

One blindfold, leather.

One set of handcuffs, likely the ones she'd worn last night. So far so good.

A pink vibrator. She blushed. Would he use that on her?

A belt. A plain, worn, soft brown leather belt. She knew right away that it was his belt coiled up and sent to her and she had not misgivings about how he planned to use it. She moved on to the next item before panic could set in.

Nipple clamps. She'd seen them before but had never felt them.

She picked up the next thing, a row of silicone b.a.l.l.s in various sizes attached to a ring. She blushed again. a.n.a.l beads. She'd never used anything like that before. In fact, she was a virgin in that area.

The next one was a small, narrow object shaped like a phallus. A b.u.t.t plug. She hated the description, why call something so intimate so juvenile a name? She put it down.

The last item was a business card for a place called Studio Urban Wax. She turned it over and read the back, his first command-I want you waxed bare front to back.

f.u.c.ker! That was going to hurt. Naia dumped everything back into the box and went to have a shower.

The next afternoon Naia found herself walking the few blocks to Studio Urban Wax. She'd taken two Advil half an hour ago but wasn't sure that was enough to numb what she knew would be more than a little painful. She'd only ever had very modest bikini waxes done and she usually did those herself. It had taken quite some courage to book a Brazilian, but she consoled herself with the fact people did it all the time. She wasn't any different. So she'd be spread naked, having her most delicate area pulled free of all hair.

Ouch, she shivered. Better to stop thinking about it.

She found the studio easily and, gathering her courage, pushed the door open. It was a small but posh s.p.a.ce with a red leather couch, two chairs and a coffee table stacked high with magazines.

"Can I help you?" asked the cheery girl at the desk.

"I have an appointment," Naia began. Once she'd checked in, it was only a matter of moments before her name was called by a pretty young blonde. She put her magazine down and followed Bri, who would be her wax technician, into a private room. Bri seemed to be all of eighteen years old and looked like she spent her days either on a tanning bed or in a chair at a salon getting her hair bleached. Great.

"Just take everything off from below the waist and lay down. I'll be back in a minute," Bri instructed.

A very nervous, Naia stripped her jeans, panties and shoes off and lay on the table, draping the tiny cloth over her privates. Bri was back in a moment and started to ramble about this or that. Naia didn't pay attention; she was too focused on the hot wax that would soon be dripping onto her very tender bits.