TATJANNA CRUELA'S SESSION WITH THE PROFESSOR
by Hamlet


The Professor looked back up at his Captor Tatjanna Cruela. The light from the
candle glimmered off a small, metallic object in her hands. A knife. He took
shallow, quick breathes as she brought the knife to his body. She cut down the
side of his shirt, ripping it open and tore it off his torso. He was surprised
to feel no cut on his body.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you yet." Her words echoed in his mind.

She did the same with his pants, leaving him naked on the cold, stone floor.

"Now, slave, we can begin."

She walked around the room, lighting more candles. Each tap of her high heels
on her high heeled boots against the stone felt like gunshots in his mind.

With the light of the extra candles he could start to make out more of this
Woman. She wore a shiny leather bra, barely hiding two round breasts. She wore
long black leather gloves and thigh length boots Her pants were also shiny
leather and wrapped tightly around her arse. There was something at her waste
that he could not quite make out. She lit the last candle, and he could see
it.

A huge strap on, strapped onto her pelvis, stared back at him. His mouth felt
dry and his heart dropped further. She walked back to him, this time stopping
just behind him.

"Come on now," she said, reaching down to his cuffed hands. She interlocked
her fingers with his and pulled him up. Touching her hand made his start to
sweat.

Once up, she guided him to side of the room. Reluctantly he followed,
whimpering like a baby as he moved.

At the edge of the room was a table. At first it looked like a regular table
but getting closer revealed three belt straps. One at the centre of the table
and two at the bottoms of the table legs.

She strapped the two lower belts to his ankles, much tighter than he was
comfortable with. His feet grew numb with the lack of blood flow.

He felt a force as she shoved hands against his upper back, bending him over
the table. She tied the third strap around his neck, trapping him bent at a
90-degree angle.

"Please Madame," he whined. "Don't hurt me."

She lashed her hand against his bare ass. His face still stung from the first
hit, and this was harder.

"Don't you f----g dare tell me what to do and you speak only when you're
spoken to."

The sweetness of her voice was gone now. It was sour now. He tried blinking
away the tears, but there were too many this time. One dripped down his cheek.

She pushed up against his arsenhole with the strap-on. This felt like nothing
he had ever experienced before. This was new, and yet the bliss quickly turned
to pain as she ripped further inside.

She pushed herself deeper than he thought was possible. When he saw the strap
on, he thought it might be small, but now it felt like the largest dick in the
world. He exhaled a breath of relief as she started to pull back out.

In an instant that relief was gone. She was in deeper this time and held it
there. He felt the coldness of her leather pants pressed again his ass. She
was in as deep as she could go. He would have been thankful that this was as
far as she could go, but even this was too far. She held there for what felt
like minutes. He bit down on his tongue to distract from the sheer pain and
loosened his bite as she pulled out again.

.

He bit back down on his tongue. Hard. He tasted blood. She was in all the way
once more. There was not any time to think this time as she already began
pulling out again.

THRUST!.

"You're enjoying it, aren't you?" she asked.

THRUST!!.

He whimpered.

THRUST!!!!

"I hope that means yes," she laughed.

THRUST !!!!!

Her rhythm steadied at a brisk pace. Each thrust felt worse than the last. The
pain in his arse was building up. She kept going until his arse felt on fire
from the friction. She slowed her pace and pulled it all the way out.

"God that's a nice workout." she said. The sweetness of her voice was back.

His jaw trembled.

"I said," she said. "That was a nice workout."

"Yes, Madame." He was barely able to get that out.

She undid the straps around his neck and legs and gently lifted him up. The
two stood face to face now. She inched closer, glancing down at his lips.

Their faces were an inch apart and she kissed him hard thrusting her tongue
right down hid thrust. He did not know this yet, but this was the Kiss of
Death designed to cut off all his air supply He was shocked at first and then
kissed back. Their tongues as she thrust into him mercilessly. All the pain he
had experienced just moments before had washed away, and the fear he had was
replaced by. . . Love? This Woman was a stranger, but this kiss felt like the
greatest agony in the world. Her left arm grabbed him tightly by his hair
while her right arm suspiciously reached behind her.

She pulled his head back and looked down. A small chastity cage enveloped his
dick. A hefty lock kept it shut.

With one move she threw him into the cell.

His cell was pitch black and freezing. She had tossed him his clothes, but
they had been cut open. He fastened them into a makeshift blanket and huddled
under them as he drifted to sleep on his cell floor.

When he woke up, he was no longer in his cell. His clothes were no longer over
him. He sat up, confused. Looking around, he noticed he was back in the middle
of the Dungeon. A fireplace at the far end of the chamber lit up the room more
than the candles had. He turned his head back.

His Mistress was there. She had on the leather bra from last night, but she
was completely naked from the waist down. Her cleanly shaved pussy must have
been cold in the chilled air of the chamber, but she did not react. She stood,
staring sharply into his soul.

He felt his penis tug at the metal cage. It was growing firmer but had nowhere
to go. It pinched as it pressed against the steel.

"I did you a favour yesterday," she spoke.

"Now it's your turn to serve me!

Any comments to norselandic@hotmail.com

TO BE CONTINUED