The Undergraduate
PART ONE
Like most freshmen in college I was convinced that I was "Mr. Know-it-all," that there was nothing that anyone could teach me. Being away from home for the first time, I was also anxious to explore my sexuality. For some time now I had known that a man's body was far more appealing to me than a woman: I was happier with a cock than with a pussy, to be blunt -- and the smooth planes of the male chest got me harder than all the boobs in Texas. Surrounded by the all the male flesh in my dorm and on campus was stimulating and arousing to me; I was like a kid in a candy store, picking out the most delightful treats. But as much as I enjoyed fantasizing about soaping up the frat boys in the shower, I was also aware of a darker truth: I was always drawn to the rougher sides of sex. I jacked off reading the S&M mags, imagining myself as a boyslave to a Master. But as soon as I came the fantasy too would disappear and I would push it to the back of my mind. All this was about to change.
Since I spent too much time ogling the red-haired hockey player soaping up his balls in the dorm shower, I arrived for my first day of class (English 151: Freshman Survey for British Lit) ten minutes late. Shit, was I self-destructive or what? I had to learn not to let my dick lead me around (as it had all through the last two years of high school). As I walked down that long hall I could feel a sinking pit in my stomach, that dread that comes from knowing that you are in for it. I could hear the professor lecturing to the class as I turned the knob. My heart was about to leap out of my chest. Slowly, I opened the door and tried to sneak into the back of the room where I saw an empty seat.
Then I heard his voice, "Your name, now"
I turned to face the professor, expecting an old balding middle aged bore. What I saw made my throat go dry: the young, tan, tall lean man at the front of the room made my eyes bug out and sent a wake-up call to mycock.
I stammered my reply: "Derik, Derik McCaffrey"
"Ah, Mr. McCaffrey, how kind of you to join us." The class laughed. "Perhaps I shall welcome you to Michigan time, as you are late. Remember we are three hours ahead of your native California."
"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry," I stuttered, diving for the empty desk.
"You will sit here," he said. pointing to a chair right in front of him.
I tried my best to walk to the front of the room without blushing but with each step I took I could feel my cheeks getting more flush. I had not even been in college five minutes and yet already I could tell I had made an enemy of the professor. I stared at his tall, lean body. His dark tan set off his piercing blue eyes, and he was dressed very GQ in a starched white oxford, red striped tie, and perfectly pressed navy pants. He looked so handsome: I could feel the blood rushing to my crotch, much too my embarrassment. I silently cursed my choice of baggy cargo shorts; as was my usual style, I wore no underwear. Now I wished I had some support or control; I pulled my t-shirt down in an attempt to cover my growing embarassment.
Settled in my desk right in front of him, I listened carefully as he went over the syllabus for the class. I looked it over and saw that there was a lot of required reading, Beowulf, Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, Milton's Paradise Lost, among others. Damn, he was a slave driver.
As I was leaving he said, "Mr. McCaffery, please come back here."
I turned and did as I was told. There was something commanding about his voice. I walked back into the room. He told me to sit, and I did. I looked at him with quiet obedience. He was so close now that I could smell his cologne: Allure by Chanel. It gave him a masculine air. Damn he was so hot, I thought, trying to keep my dick under control.
"Mr. McCaffrey, help me to understand something. You seem to be such a bright young man, so eager to learn, yet you show up late for the very first class? Did you find something in your dorm room more interesting than the Freshman Survey of British Literature."
Damn -- it was like he knew I'd spent those ten minutes thinking about the red-head and jacking off. I put on my best suck-up-to-the teacher face. (It had gotten me out of a lot of tight places in high school, and into a few as well -- tbut that's another story!) "Mr. Johnson, I am so sorry. Its just I forgot to set my alarm and stuff."
His fact became taut as he said, "You seem to have no manners, Derik McCaffery." He stared at me and I felt weak at the knees." I am your professor. It's Professor Johnson to you."
"I am sorry Professor Johnson" I meekly replied. My face was flushed with embarrassment. I did not know what to say or how to react to this situation. And I also felt more ashamed cause I know that my hard-on was now clearly visible. What was I going to do if he said something?
"Mr. McCaffrey, you are dismissed. I trust that I will not have to speak to you about this again." With that he turned on a well-polished heel and was out the door. I stood there amazed and over come with awe, his cologne lingered in the room and I took in his masculine scent. Damn, he was so hot! My hands slipped to my crotch almost instinctively and I almost got caught jacking myself off by some dyke professor who arrived for her Women's Studies class.
The night I had a great deal of difficulty concentrating on my reading assignments for Professor Johnson's class. It was a hot muggy night and I just could not keep my mind on the subject matter. My mind kept wondering back to his gorgeous body and deep blue eyes and his perfecttan.
I decided to go for a run and burn off some excess energy. I told my roommate I was going out for a run and left. The Sun was just beginning to set as I headed off for the track. I stripped off my t-shirt and left it by the long jump pit and started my jog. I ran maybe a mile or so beforeI noticed him.
"Mr. McCaffery, out getting a jog?" he asked, in a why-aren't-you doing-your work tone of voice.
"Yes, Mr., um, Professor Johnson, I could not concentrate." I sheepishly replied, feeling my face blush again. Why did he have thispower over me?
"I see. Well, Beowulf is tough to concentrate on in the best of circumstances. How far did you get? Did you read the description of Hrothgar's hall?"
"Yes. Um, that is, I was almost there, I think." I blushed, knowing that my mind had kept wandering to this hot JPG a ex-boyfriend had sent me of the smooth Dutch slaveboy in a cage.
"Well, Derik. You know it's important that you get off to a good start this semester, and it's hot as hell out here." I was startled at this sudden friendly informality. "And I know that the dorms can't be all that comfortable. Why don't you come back to my place? Its air-conditioned and maybe you will be able to concentrate there."
I was taken aback and just shrugged my shoulders, instinctively slipping into passive mode. I did not know what to say. I was thrilled with the idea of going back to his place. I was beside myself with suprise. But what was he up to? My heart was pounding in anticipation. Could it be that he wanted me? Or was he just being kind? Or was I losing my mind?
"Hey kiddo, race ya back," he said, patting my ass and taking off. He was in excellent shape and had powerful legs and well defined ass. I scrambled for my t-shirt and did my best to keep up with him. But since I did not know where his house was, how could I pass him? Finally we came to a nice brownstone on the other side of the campus. I was exhausted from running that far and covered in sweat. I followed him up a flight of stairs. His apartment was nothing great but it was air- conditioned, like he said. The coolness of the place felt good against my sweat soaked skin. I watched as he stripped off his t-shirt revealing a strong masculine chest with hair in all the right places. I turned my head and forced myself to concentrate on something else. I noticed his large collection of books andthe absence of any photos of a wife, girlfriend -- or even significant other.
He turned, "Well make yourself comfortable."
"Okay, Professor Johnson. Um, nice place you have here."
I watched as he went over to the door and double looked it. I had a feeling it wasn't to keep the burglars out. He looked at me, sitting on the edge of his sofa. I felt so odd, the air had an electric charge to it. What was going to come next? I did not have to wait long.
He walked real close to me. My throat was dry again and my cock was pushing up against my flimsy nylon running shorts. He looked me straight in the eye and said "Tell me boy when was the last time you got laid?"
I was taken back by his question and found myself stammering, but no answer came out. Even though I pretended to be the Big Man on Campus, I was still very inexperienced with men. I had only had a few guys that I messed around with at home. This was all so new to me -- my head was spining, my face flush with excitment.
He took my head in his hands and then said, "Boy, I asked you aquestion. Now answer me!"
"Um...umm...ah..well it's been a while."
"How long, Derik. Tell me NOW."
"Ah, its been..ah, well two months."
"Want to change that, boy? I saw your hardon when you were in class today. I saw how you looked at me. Don't lie -- I know you want me. And your dick says it all anyway," he said as he grabbed my throbbing dick. I was paralyzed, I did not know what to do.
"I am sorry, Professor..."
He cut me off, "No need to apologize, Derik. Besides I will make you sorry for your sins. Tell me: do you want me or not. Because you willplay by MY rules or you won't play at all."
I stared at him blankly. not knowing what to do or to say. I just nodded my head yes. God, I wanted him so badly. I would play by hisrules.
"Rule number one...take those clothes off NOW."
I did as I was told. I kicked off my shoes and sweat socks quickly. I peeled the sweaty t-shirt off my smooth boyish chest, feeling my nipples harden immediately in the cool air. I looked up at him and managed a quick flirty smile as I slipped my hands into the waistband of my running shorts. I stood there in my sweaty jock, suddenly shy and scared. I begged him with my eyes to let me stop there. His piercing blue eyes gave no mercy. Shaking like a leaf, I removed my jock and laid it at his feet.
Standing, I grasped my hands behind my back and bent my head, submissively, in the posture I had seen in that magazine. I was naked before him. He eyed up my body, inspected my flesh with his eyes. I could tell he was making mental notes. He went over to a desk drawer and took out some tape, thick industrial tape. He bound my feet with it. Then he pushed my arms behind my back and bound them as well with tape.
"Rule number two boy. You are mine do with as I please. You understand?"
"Yes."
He slapped my face hard, "You must learn your place, boy, down on your knees." He shoved me down to my knees. And then he said "You will call me `Sir'"
"Yes, Sir." I replied.
"Good, bitch." I felt tears come to my eyes, of shame and of pride. Finally, someone had called me out, named me. He stripped down his shorts and slapped my face with his cock. Pre-cum oozed across my face. I felt so humiliated, but more was to come. He pressed my face into his crotch, so I could feel his bush scratch against my face. His man scent filled my nostils. I loved the way his crotch smelled. I would have kept my face buried there for an eternity if he would have let me. But that was not tobe -- my new master had other plans.
"Up, bitch, and into the bedroom."
He yanked me up and I hopped like a kangaroo into his bedroom. He shoved me on the bed. And then he grabbed my pubic hair and said "No, boy -- I don't like this at all. It's gotta go." Without another word, he went to his bathroom and came out with a razor and shaving cream. He lathered me up and removed all the hair that I had been so proud of. He pushed my legs up and did the same thing with the downy hair around my asshole. I felt so vulnerable but more was to come.
"Ready for your punishment boy?" He paused and I tried to find theword to express my utter submission to him. He slapped my cheek. "Well, it doesn't matter does it?"
He went to his bathroom and produced a pail of melted wax. He spread the wax over my arm pits and then pressed linen strips onto them. When the wax had dried he look at me and said "Scared boy?" I nodded, tears in my eyes again. With a quick jerk, he ripped off the strips which tookwith them my arm pit hair.
"Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii" I screamed.
"Oh shut up, bitch! I don't like your whining. It grows tiresome." He picked up his sweaty jock and shoved it in my mouth. It tasted so bad I thought I would gag, but I forced myself to concentrate on something else, on the sensation of helplessness and total submission to this man. Then I felt him put cold lube on my asshole. I was panicked. What was I going to do? I had never been fucked before. "Sir, oh Sir...." was all I could mutter.
He stuck a finger in my ass. He could feel how tight I was. He asked me, "Boy, you a virgin?"
I nodded my head "yes." He seemed very pleased and a devilish grinflashed across his face. He went over to his drawer and got some more lube and spread it across the broad expanse of his throbbig dickhead.
"Smile, boy, cause I am gonna make you scream." When I heard this, my eyes widened in panic.
He teased my hole with his dick. He pushed it up against my hole and then drew back. Then he did it--he shoved his cockhead inside of me. The pain was unbearable, a hot flash shooting up through me. Oh god, I thought he was going to split me.
As he began pounding my ass, he grunted a litany of insults: "Guess what boy, I am making you into a cunt. You like that? Daddy is fucking his bitch. Your hole is mine now. You are mine now. Feel me fucking you. I just took your cherry -- it's mine. ALL MINE." He yelled in my ear. Oh God it hurt so bad. My legs pressed against my chest as he pounded deep inside of my ass. Then I felt him cum inside of me, a burning load of hot cum shot deep inside my ass. I felt so complete, so whole, so used. I shot a hot load all over my chest without him ever touching me. He smeared the cum on my chest. He slowly pulled out of me.
"Boy you loved that, don't even deny it."
He got up and left me on the bed for a while. He took some pictures of me, bound and covered in cum. Then he undid the tape and massaged the blood flow back into my arms and legs. Then we took a nice long hot shower. I had to dry him off first before I could dry myself off. He reminded me again that I was his by slapping my ass and then allowing me to dress again. Before I pulled up my pants, he slipped a silver cockring onto my boycock. "Your cock belongs to me now, boy," he whispered in my ear.
The muggy night engulfed me as I headed back to my dorm room, my head swimming with a world of possibilities. My ass ached from his lovemaking and his rough words echoed in my ear. I opened my textbook when I got back to my dorm room but I never did finish my homework that night. What would Professor Johnson do if I was unprepared for class? I turned that question over and over in my head as I lay naked on my bed, fingering the silver ring that bound my cock and balls.