TRAINING THE PROF
Any comments (welcomed) to kittyh55@hotmail.com with `Harte' in the message head.
Taken shopping by his Mistress and her new girlfriend, the pair
have taken his car and left Dr Julian Harte, university lecturer
dressed in pink joggers in a rough part of town. Now read on.
Part 17
The car wasn't there! They had driven off! In his car! He was abandoned in a rough part of town, miles from the nearest cab-rank. Alone. Dressed like a screaming faggot! In a panic he fled back to the shop.
Back so soon' said Mrs Bowen. What have you forgotten now?'
Nothing' replied a breathless Julian. But I need to use your phone if that is alright with you.'
`Oh? Where is your mobile?'
`In the car.'
`So why don't you use that?'
`I can't. My lady has taken it and driven off.'
It didn't take a genius to appreciate Julian's dilemma.
`How embarrassing for you. And what do you want to use my phone for?'
`To call a taxi, if you don't mind.'
`Well I do mind. This is a shop not a telephone-booth.'
`I'll pay for the call, of course' Julian pleaded.
`Oh, don't worry. You are going to pay for it. And how! But you will have to wait until I close the shop. We can't have you licking out my pussy in front of the customers, can we. And that, you pathetic faggot, is the price for using my phone.'
`No Miss. Yes Miss. Whatever you say.'
`Meanwhile, you can make yourself useful.'
And she sent him off to sort the two racks of blouses into colours and then sizes. Poor Julian. What could he do? He was in her power. With a heavy heart he began his task.
Soon after a young woman in her twenties came in and went straight to the blouses. Julian apologised and stepped back. The young lady selected a particularly pretty white blouse trimmed with lace and went into the changing booth to try it on. Across from the till Julian saw Mrs Bowen leer at him.
The customer emerged wearing the blouse. It was a little too small and very revealing. Even Julian noticed the pretty lace bra she was wearing.
`Have you got the same in a size 14' she asked.
`I am afraid I don't know, Miss.'
`You do work here, I presume.'
`Sort of, yes.'
`Well why don't you know then?'
`I am sorry Miss, I have only just started.
Mrs Bowen came across to see what was the matter. The girl explained.
I do apologise' said Mrs Bowen. We just can't get the staff these days. And the trouble with sissies like this is that they are so slow to learn.'
`Sissy?'
`Well just look at him, cant you see that?'
`Now you mentioned it, yes.'
They moved Julian to one side and together sorted through the blouses til they found another lacy-white blouse size 14. The young woman once more went to the changing-booth to try it on. Mrs Bowen gave Julian's unprotected testicles a harsh squeeze. `You had better do better next time, wimp, or else you will waiting at the bus-stop.'
The woman emerged. The blouse was a perfect fit. She would take it. As Mrs Bowen wrapped up her purchase, she asked her why she employed such a useless assistant.
It's his first day' she explained. But I am sure he will learn in time. But being a mere male he finds it difficult.'
With a look of total disdain mingled with disgust at Julian, the young woman left the shop. Julian could have died with embarrassment. Was there to be no limit to his humiliations? The answer was, no, for as the woman left two of Julian's first year pupils entered the shop. This was too much for him. He fled into the changing room and drew the curtains tight closed. He couldn't, he just couldn't let them see him like this! Fool. As if he had anything to do with it.
Through the curtain he could hear Mrs Bowen encouraging the two girls to try on various garments. Five minutes later the curtain was pulled aside. The two girls stared in amazement at their tutor.
`What are you doing here, Dr Harte?'
`Erm. Trying on these joggers. For a fancy-dress party I am going to' he lied.
People will begin to talk if you go around dressed like that' said one of them, with a twinkle in her eye. Especially since that party when they gave you panties to wear!'
Julian vacated the cubicle and the two girls entered in fits of giggles. Once more Mrs Bowen squeezed his balls.
`How dare you run away! Get back to your duties!'
`Please, not in front of them.'
`Why not?'
`They are my students.'
`So what. So is Miss Maria. So is Sam.'
`Yes, but ...'
`But nothing! Get back to sorting you useless prick.'
Red-faced he returned to his task, only then realising that the two girls would have heard every word!
For the next twenty minutes the girls went in and out of the cubicle trying on various garments before one of them chose a very short black skirt, much to Mrs Bowen's delight and approval. The changing booth was full of discarded garments. Mrs Bowen summoned Julian across and in their hearing ordered him to tidy the unwanted garments away. By now Julian was pink with embarrassment.
As the girls left they gave him a cheery wave and one called out `Enjoy your work Dr Harte. We will see you after Easter!' Julian cringed with embarrassment.
At last it was time to close up shop. Mrs Bowen locked the front-door and turned the sign to "Closed".
`Follow me' she instructed, striding into her inner sanctum.
The same confused mess greeted Julian as on his previous visit.
Remove your joggers' she commanded. We don't want to mess them, do we.'
Julian obeyed, revealing his nakedness beneath. She asked him why he was panty-less. He was forced to explain it had been at Maria's direct instruction. In that case you had better keep this under control, wimp!' And she flicked his cock hard, revelling in his instinctive move back and barely suppressed cry of shock. Get on your knees bitch and lick out my pussy.'
She had raised her skirt and opened her legs to reveal a soaking pair of panties. With eager hands she pressed his face deep into her love nest and swooned as his tongue began to bring her from the edge to the waterfall of lust. In minutes she had orgasmed soaking his face in her pussy juices, leaving him stinking of cunt.
He rose, shaking, and recovered his joggers.
`May I ring for a taxi now, please Miss?'
`I suppose so' she agreed reluctantly.
He waited at her side-door. Waited and waited. No taxi. He went back along the corridor to her room.
`Haven't you gone yet' she snapped.
`I am very sorry Miss. May I use your phone again. It hasn't come.'
`You are pathetic! You can't even order a taxi. You are just a useless little cunt-licker. Call yourself a man. You aren't even half a man.'
She picked up the phone and dialled a number.
`Is that you Harry. You free at the moment. Well I have got a fare here for you. Needs to go to the uni. Yes, another of my panty- wearing sluts except this one hasn't any underwear on at all.'
Julian listened with mounting horror as she described him in crude detail. At last the phone-call was ended.
`He'll be here in five minutes.'
`Thank you Miss.'
`Well, slut, what else?'
`I'm sorry I don't understand?'
`Where is your payment for using my phone?'
Julian reached into his purse for some coins. He didn't have any only notes. He handed her a fiver. She took it with a sniff of contempt, making no attempt to find him change. Yet another cost thought poor Julian.
A few minutes later a taxi drew up and Julian left the emporium for his ride home, relieved to be escaping her control yet fearful of the driver who leered at him as he climbed into the back-seat of the cab.
`You got the cash for me, mate?'
`Erh, yes' said Julian, surprised by the question.
`Fifteen quid. Up front.'
`Fifteen pounds!' It was double the standard fare.
`Take it or leave it. That's my charge.'
Julian reached into his bag, extracted his purse and paid over the exorbitant fare.
As he drove through the town the driver kept making sexually offensive comments such as "I suppose you suck cock; they all do" and "You smell like a whore; have you been up Elspeth's pussy?" All Julian could was blush and keep silent, urging the cab forward through the traffic as though by willing it he could get home and escape this nightmare.
They were nearing his house when the driver turned off down a dark street and onto the edge of the local common.
`My place is three roads down from here.'
`I know. But if you want me to take you there pansy, you will have to service my cock first.'
Julian's heart thumped with the shock of his crude command. He peered over the seat and saw the driver had extracted a huge gnarled knob glistening with pre-cum.
`Don't you want this nice cock down your throat, faggot?'
`No!' cried Julian, and turned to his door, determining to get out and run away from this monstrous man. The door wouldn't open. The driver controlled it. Julian could not escape.
The man laughed.
`Think you could run away did you pansy! I don't recommend it.'
Slowly the driver uncoiled himself from his seat and walked round to Julian's door and let himself in.
`Get on your knees, bitch, and suck me off.'
And Julian did, taking the stinking penis into his mouth and sucking it as hard as he could; anything to escape the clutches of this monstrous oaf. Monstrous oaf? What was he? What was Julian? Just a sissy wimp. With tears in his eyes, he completed his task, his mouth filling with man's spendings. As he spat the unwelcome offering into his lace handkerchief and wiped his mouth, the man returned to his driving-seat and moved off.
Although Julian had given an address five down from his own house, he could not escape the driver's inquisitive eye. He just waited in his cab. Julian had to choose between walking away from his home or revealing his address. By now he didn't care anymore. Anything to escape to the safety of his own place. As he put his key in the door the cab-driver tooted his horn and drove off. It was a chastened and exhausted Julian who entered his home.