Mr. Aguilera

He unzipped and pulled down my pants, slowly... I didn't resist. He lifted one of my legs and then the other, tossing the pants and shoes aside. I was only left with my black panties. He looked at me with lust.

"Lay with your belly down on my desk," he said while pointing at the exact spot where he wanted me to bend over. It was right in front of the guest chair, which he had moved aside.

"I don't like that position." I hesitated a little, "I-It makes me feel vulnerable."

He smiled gently, approached me, and grabbed my arm firmly, pulling me and making me fall on the desk, holding me down with his hand by my head.

"But your panties are so wet," he said as he started sliding his middle finger alongside my panty line. My body tensed up.

"If your panties are wet, it means that being 'vulnerable' is not as bad as you make it seem."

He continued to touch my panties for a few seconds until I felt his fingers sliding in through the side of my black underwear, lifting it a little bit and touching my pussy directly. He rubbed his fingers up and down, teasing and threatening to slip one finger inside. I was panting slightly, afraid that someone would knock the door at any moment.

My body began shaking gently in pleasure and my voice became more notorious.

"Repeat after me," he said, "Mister, I love it when you humiliate me."

I closed my eyes tight shut and repeated, "M-Mister... I-I love it when..." I stopped as he slid two of his fingers inside me: "Ahhhh...!"

"Come on, continue."

I got myself together and proceeded, "L-Love it wh-when... you h-humiliate me."

"I will be your submissive little girl from now on."

"I-I will be your...," he began to thrust intensely, "Ohhh...s-submissive... little girl from... now on."

"I will do everything you say, anytime, anywhere, anyhow."

I felt his fingers moving faster and the hand that was on the back of my head yanked my hair backwards, arching my back. I was unable to think clearly.

"Say it, now," he demanded with a firm voice.

"I...ahhh..."

"NOW."

I tried one last time, "I will...do..."

His fingers rubbing against my sweet inner spot, making me desperate.

As the next words rolled out of my mouth, I knew I was completely lost, "I... oh God, please Mister fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! I can't take it any longer!"

Mr. A. stopped what he was doing and moved back a little. Without saying anything he pulled down my panties, slowly and without a rush.

He then used two of his fingers to slide them from the front of my pussy all the way to the back, repeating this gesture several times. Once he considered that my behind was lubricated enough he inserted a finger all the way in. My whole body cringed and resisted.

"Don't d-do that Mister, i-it feels weird!"

"I'll do as I please naughty girl, and you'll love it."

He moved his finger in and out, allowing me to get used to the feeling. A few minutes passed as I moaned and groaned quietly. I felt his finger pulling out. I knew what was coming up next. He placed his hand on one of my ass cheeks and I could feel the pressure of his cock sliding into my behind as his fingers dug into my flesh.

I tried to get away by sliding forward, but he grasped my shoulder and pulled me back towards him. I held my hair and head as I clenched my teeth. My body tensed as he penetrated me completely. He leaned forward, placed his head beside mine and took hold of my hair once again, pulling my head back slightly. He began moving back and forth gently as I could hear him groan close to my ear. I moved my arms back, placing my hands on his hips trying to seize the movement, but Mr. A. took hold of them with his other hand and brought them forward onto the desk, holding them down with both his hands.

I panted and moaned whenever he thrust. "Y-you're... hurting me, Mister."

"But if feels good, doesn't it?" he said between moans.

I didn't reply as his thrusts became more intense, and his hands grasped my waist and hair with strength, pulling both back and making my body thrust back at his cock. Just as I was letting myself go, ignoring the fact that I was in college, being fucked by my teacher in his office, Mr. A. pulled out and I felt his cum on my back all the way up to my shoulders, warm and sticky.

I couldn't move, I didn't want to stain anything with the viscous liquid. He stood there for a couple of second and then picked up my shirt and began to clean my back with it suddenly

"What are you doing!?" I yelled, "I have to wear that!"

He continued to clean as he replied, "I want you to remember that you're mine and having my cum all over your shirt will do the job for now."

I frowned but accepted the fact that I couldn't do anything. When he finally finished, I tidied myself up. Mr. A. sat on his desk, watching me as I got dressed. When I had my shirt on I felt relieved, the stains were barely noticeable.

"If you keep up your bad behavior, the punishment will be worse every time."

I looked at him with anger. I then walked towards him, fixing my hair, and looking directly into his eyes I kissed him passionately, holding his face with one of my hands and placing my other hand on his shoulder. He didn't touch me but simply kissed back. When I was done, I turned around, picked up my bag and headed out the door.

As I was closing the door I heard him say, "Next time I won't be as nice."

"Did he consider that as something nice?" I said in a low voice.

Chapter 9

Days went on. I was always eager to see Mr. A. in class and even more, in his office. There was always an excuse to go see him and "talk" about school stuff, but I also knew that I couldn't make the matter too obvious; I didn't want anyone to suspect anything. Mr. A. didn't seem to care much about what others could see or think, I don't know if it was because he was over-confident, or because he knew just how much he could do without anyone becoming aware that I had become his sexual possession.

Of course, that's exactly what I had become. I didn't plan in having a serious relationship with him, after all, he was twenty years older than me, marriage was out of the question and I still... had my boyfriend.

The beginning of January came and that meant vacation time. I had passed all my exams and was feeling ready for some well-earned rest.

Two weeks into vacation I hadn't heard anything from him. I did see him in the building's parking lot sometimes, getting in and out of his car, but we never seemed to interact with each other.

Then, during the third week I received an email from him which read:

"Take the subway line to Saint Thomas station at 4:00pm and wait for me right outside.

P.S. Wear your blue, pocketed dress. No panties. You can wear a bra."

'No panties?' I thought to myself. 'Of course I'm going to wear panties!' But then I thought that if I did, Mr. A. would punish me. I blushed as I realized that perhaps that was exactly what I wanted. So, I put on an especially girly pair of panties, a light green color with white ruffles around the edges. I slipped into the blue dress, buckled a belt around my waist, stepped into my white, doll-like shoes. I quickly did my hair and makeup and headed out the door.

It was just past 4 when I got to the subway station and boarded the train. It was about a forty-minute ride to the station where I was to meet him, so I sat down and listened to music while enjoying the beautiful landscape. There were quite a few people on the train.

There was a man who might have been in his early thirties standing right in front of me. He was good looking and seemed as though he might be a foreigner. He openly stared down at my bare legs. I could feel it almost like an unwanted touch and didn't like it one bit.

Eventually I looked up angrily and asked, "Is there anything you need?"

The man didn't reply and simply looked away but didn't seem ashamed at all. I felt relieved and glad that I could stand up for myself with anyone; except Mr. A. of course...

The train arrived at Saint Thomas station and after exiting the cart I headed up the stairs towards the sidewalk. It was a bright, sunny, and humid day. Heat and sun always make me sick after a while, plus the street was crowded and I began to feel overwhelmed. Where was Mr. A?

Then I gasped as I felt a hand running smoothly over my behind.

"I said no panties."

I recognized his voice immediately. I flinched in embarrassment because he had spoken aloud, and then grimaced in pain as he seized my behind and pinched it, hard, between his thumb and forefinger.

"It seems like you want me to punish you," he continued, as if making casual conversation.

"Don't do that here!" I protested, "People will notice!"

He leaned close to my ear and said, "People don't care."

Then he took me by the arm and started leading me back down the subway stairs. I was terrified that someone would notice what was happening and draw attention to it. Couldn't he be less obvious? He kept his hand clamped around my upper arm, walking me like a little girl who is being taken to be punished for being bad. Yet people around us just kept naturally going about their business, paying no attention to us whatsoever.

It made me think how insecure our society is; I felt extremely vulnerable, knowing that Mr. A. could do anything he wanted to me, right there in the middle of the subway station if he wanted to and no one would care enough to do more than maybe look.

That thought was overwhelmingly exciting.

We got onto the first train that arrived, I didn't have time to see where it was headed since Mr. A. hustled us inside. There were a lot of people on the train by this time, so everyone was crowded together. Mr. A. stood just behind me and a little bit to the left, releasing my arm and acting as if we were complete strangers. He grabbed hold of one of the handles dangling from the ceiling. I couldn't reach any of them because people around me were blocking the way.

"Don't worry," he said, whispering into my ear. "I've got you."

I knew exactly what he meant and shivered. He touched me on the shoulder with his free hand and gently turned me around to face him. The train was so crowded that we were nearly touching.

He held me in his gaze as he casually slipped his hand under the hem of my dress and began dragging the tips of his fingers along the skin of my thighs, slowly, up, and down, first one then the other. But always a little higher...always a little closer to the crotch of my panties.

I was frozen with shock, staring into his lustful eyes, and screaming back at him with mine. I knew I was helpless. The thought of the people around me seeing what was happening, watching while I simply stood there letting him fondle me, was too humiliating - and, I realized, too exciting - for me to bear. I just turned my head and looked down as the train began moving again.

As the train lurched into motion I almost fell but instead I stumbled in such a way that Mr. A's hand wound up firmly between my legs. I gasped so loudly that this time I could see, out of the corner of my eye, faces turning towards me. But after a moment they turned away again, and I realized that Mr. A. had been right: people didn't care enough.

He immediately took possession of my pussy, squeezing it, and rubbing his fingertips roughly along my pussy lips through my panties, pushing them into me and getting them soaked with my juices. My face was flushed, and I was breathing heavily, trying desperately to contain myself so no one around me would notice what was happening.

I was barely able to speak, but somehow managed to whisper, through quivering lips, "Ohhh... W-why do you like to humiliate me so much, Mister?"

"Because you love it so much, little girl," he said softly. "You get that lustful expression on your face, your voice becomes softer and I just want to fuck you when I see you like this, when you prove to me that you're mine and I can do whatever I want with you."

And as if to prove his point he suddenly pulled the crotch of my panties aside and thrust two fingers deeply into my pussy. To keep myself from crying out I quickly seized him by the shoulders and buried my face in his chest.

I couldn't fight it: the heat, the embarrassment, the desire... Being surrounded by people while being used and fondled by my sexy professor. Oh...how I loved it.

After a moment, I managed to slowly raise my head and look around, even as Mr. A. continued sliding his fingers in and out of my pussy, and there was that man who had been staring at me earlier. He was looking directly into my eyes. I couldn't look away, even though it was obvious he could see exactly what my professor was doing to me. He simply continued to stare into my eyes and watch. At the next stop, he smiled gently at me, and as he turned to exit the train, I could see his erection.

Chapter 10

As I watched the man leaving the train, I began to realize how erotic it was to be played with in public, and how much I enjoyed it... knowing that anyone could see us or even listen to us at any moment was an amazing sensation.

"You like it when people look at you don't you?" Mr. A. whispered in my ear. "You like it when you see them watching me use you as my little plaything."

"Yes... I do, Mister."

When the train arrived at the next station, it was already 5:15 pm. A lot of people got on the train because rush hour was starting. The car quickly filled up and I got as close to Mr. A. as possible, leaning back against him until our bodies almost seemed to merge. His erection was pressing against my behind; he held me by the shoulders and was rubbing against me lightly.

The car was so crowded that the man in front of me had his back almost touching my face; he was wearing a suit and carried a briefcase. I assumed he was heading home from work.

Mr. A. lifted my dress from behind, slipped his hand beneath my panties and began to caress my ass, fondling, squeezing, and stroking it. I forced myself to remain still, trying desperately to keep a straight face, staring straight ahead, and breathing as normally as I could.

His hand moved slowly forward, lightly stroking my inner thighs, drifting back to my ass, and reaching a little further between my legs each time. I was getting nervous, and yet undeniably aroused. Then he reached my pussy and slipped a finger inside. I couldn't help but let out a small moan:

"Ahhh..."

The man in front of me turned his head and asked, "Are you okay? Are you feeling ill?"

I blushed furiously and looked down, unable to meet his gaze. Through clenched teeth I replied, "Y-yes I'm fine. Please don't worry about me."

His eyes drifted toward Mr. A., looking at him with suspicion, and I knew Mr. A. was looking back at him indifferently, even as he forced his finger more deeply into my pussy. My hands inadvertently forced themselves into fists as I tried to keep from moaning a second time.

"All right, if I can do anything for you let me know," the man said as he turned away.

I felt Mr. A's breath close to my ear as he whispered, "I bet he's jealous and wants to finger your hot little pussy the way I am right now."

"H- he was only worried about me."

"Trust me little girl, every man that sees you, your beautiful body and the look that you have in your eyes..." he paused, "wants to fuck you."

"That's not true!" I hissed, turning my head to face him, my eyes fierce.

"Don't be ashamed by it, you are a living fantasy for the students and teachers on campus. Haven't you noticed how they look at you? I even heard a friend of yours say how 'delicious' you were. And that chemistry teacher? His eyes betray him."

I hated how assertive he was. "I-I... have noticed. And yes... I heard him say that."

"You are a naughty, sexy little girl, whether you want to admit it or not. Maybe I should punish you for encouraging men to think about you like that."

"I-it's not my fault! I don't want people to see me that way, I-I can't do anything about it..."

"Well then maybe you should stop looking at people with those sexy eyes."

I didn't reply and looked down, ashamed and angry.

"Be grateful that I am the one touching you and fucking you... Because that's what you like, isn't it, little girl? Being my property to do with as I please?"

He began thrusting his finger in and out of my pussy, touching the most pleasurable spot inside my pussy...

"Ohhhh...yes, Mister," I breathed.

I bent forward a little, barely able to stand. I spread my shaking legs more widely for him and my breathing became deeper and faster. I was losing control. My body bent even further forward until my forehead was pressed against the man's back. I couldn't help it, my mind was gone, completely entranced by the sensation, the rush, the pleasure...

The man turned towards me, forcing me to lift my head slightly. He didn't touch me. When I looked up and became conscious of my surroundings and what I'd been doing, I shrank back towards Mr. A. and stammered incoherent apologies to the stranger.

He leaned close to me and said in a low voice, "I'm only sorry that I didn't get to you before he did."

I looked back at him anxious and confused but still very much aroused. He held my gaze for another moment; then his expression filled with both lust and regret, turned around again.

"See? Every man likes a submissive little girl like you," said Mr. A., leaning close to my ear. "You act tough but all you want is someone to give you orders, to humiliate you and do naughty things to you."

I made no reply and remained silent until we arrived at San Jose station.

"Come on, let's go." Mr. A. grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd towards the doors. I looked back and the man from the train was looking at me with a smirk on his face. I felt vulnerable and exposed. I didn't know what was happening or where I was going; had I done the right thing by trusting my professor?

"Where are we going?" I asked, looking up at him as he pulled me along.

Mr. A. made no reply and simply continued walking, holding my hand as if we were out for a stroll.

"Hey, where are we going!?" I repeated, more insistently.

Without slowing his pace, he looked at me out of the corner of his eye and replied, in a conversational tone, "I am going to fuck you."

My mind went blank for a few seconds. Even though I had known what his answer would be it was still shocking to hear him state it so matter-of-factly.

We arrived at a clothing shop. There were lots of people inside, mainly women buying clothes and shoes. Men sat down on small stools waiting for them.

"What are you going to buy?" I asked, confused.

He looked down at me and grinned for moment, then turned and pulled me towards the changing rooms.

Suddenly I understood what he intended. I tried to plant my feet and resist but he simply pulled me along, nearly making me stumble. I whispered urgently, "No, no. Please, Mister, not here, people will notice what you're doing to me. We'll get caught! Please, Mr. A., let's leave."

He stopped and leaned in just long enough to say, "You will do as I say."

Mr. A. pulled me into the nearest dressing room, disregarding the stares of the nearby shoppers, and yanked the thin curtain closed behind us. And even though I knew it was useless I pleaded with him one more time, "Sir, please let's go. Please I beg you, please."

He ignored me and made me stand in front of the full-length mirror. Then, as if I were one of the fashion mannequins out in the store, he carelessly unbuckled my belt, unzipped my dress, and yanked it off my shoulders and then down over my hips to fall in a heap around my ankles. He placed one hand in the middle of my back, bending me forward, then seized my hands and placed the palms flat against the mirror. He lifted one of my legs free of the dress, then, shoving his hands between my thighs forced my legs apart. I had no choice but to stare at myself, nearly naked, my breasts hanging down under my bra. It was such a completely submissive position - the posture of a slave and possession. I felt, and then saw, my nipples begin to harden.