This is based on a true story of a session I had at a NYC dungeon last year. It was one of the most fun sessions of my life with a domme who is a beautiful woman and an even more beautiful person. I can't wait to visit her again.
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Even though I had not seen her much in my classroom, I recognized Anna the second she walked in the door of my office as I sat on the couch, looking over some paperwork. She had a look that stood out: about 5'8", size two, athletic build, with long dark brown hair, brown eyes, and numerous tattoos visible on her arms. She was beautiful, no question about it. And also a terrible student. A senior at DDU, she had the smarts but no drive and her attendance, or lack of it, had her failing my class.
"Hi, professor," she said, closing the door behind her.
"Hey Anna, what can I do for you?" I replied.
"I know I have not been in class that often, but I was wondering whether there was anything I could do to bring my grade up. I really need to graduate, and this is the only class holding me back."
Her gaze shifted downward, a bit embarrassed. Mine did as well. It was a warm spring day. She wore a sleeveless white top with flowers and blue and white stripes and a royal blue skirt. Her leg tattoos were visible form the tops of her thighs and down her calfs. She also wore low, open toed heels that showed her smooth, size 8.5 feet and natural toes. I've always been a bit of a foot man, so I could not help but let my gaze linger, just a bit.
"I'm sorry, Anna, I wish I could help. But all the exams and paper deadlines have passed. There's two days left in the semester. I'm afraid you're too late," I said.
She sighed, frustrated.
"There has to be something, some kind of extra credit," she said.
"I wish there was, but there isn't. You can take the course again over the summer and still graduate and walk with your class next week. That's the best I can do," I said.
"But I am supposed to go to Europe and ..." her voice trailed off. I hadn't realized it, but my gaze had lingered ... actually had fixed ... on her feet.
A small smile crept across her face.
"See something you like, professor?" she asked.
"Oh, umm, I'm sorry. I was just kind of lost in thought," I said. "So, if there's nothing else then."
But it was too late, Anna saw her opening. She walked over and sat down on the couch beside me.
"Maybe we can work something out," she said as she lifted her legs and put her feet across my lap.
"What are you doing?" I asked. "Stop this."
She didn't budge. Instead, she moved her heel closer to my groin. In a low, sultry voice, she said. "Look, I think you like my feet. I've seen you staring at them in class. If you give me a passing grade, you can have your way with them right now. What do you say?"
Every fiber of my being told me to say no. I did say the word "no" more than a few times. But she felt the growing hardness under my pants.
"I don't just want your feet," I said. She had me, and she knew it.
"What else do you want?" she asked, seemingly intrigued.
"Tickle me, please," I asked.
She smiled broadly at this unexpected turn. She reached forward and grabbed my by the chin, firmly but not too firmly. She pushed me down on the couch and started to peel my shirt over my head. She kicked her own heels off and sat near my legs, propping her feet up in my face.
"You know what to do," she said.
As I started to kiss her perfect feet, I felt her nails dancing on my stomach. I squirmed and squealed as she tickled me. She worked up and down my sides, down to my waste line, while I dutifully tried to keep kissing her feet and sucking her toes. This went on for a few minutes, I grew harder and she felt the bulge in my pants.
"I think we need to take these off," she said. She stood up. After slipping my shoes off and my socks, she unbuckled my belt and yanked my pants down around my ankles, allowing me to kick them off the rest of the way. I was left there in my boxers, which strained from my erection. She straddled my waste, giving me the perfect view of her ass and the soles of her feet. I felt her nails run down my thighs and shins, driving me nearly insane. I laughed and bucked as best I could, but damn her legs were strong.
"You know," she said. "I could just tie you up and leave you here and let someone find you. Good luck explaining that. Your career would be finished."
I felt her nails on the tops of my feet. I had no idea how ticklish I was there. I kicked hard and nearly bucked her off, but she squeezed my legs tighter between her thighs and tickled without mercy. I tried to muffle my laughter, for fear that someone would hear us, but it was impossible when she started tickling under my toes and on the bottoms of my feet.
"HAHAHAH oh my god please, please stop," I shouted. "You pass! You can pass the class I promise!"
She kept tickling my feet, the tops and the bottoms, for another solid minute, though it felt much longer. Then she stopped. As I caught my breath, she turned toward me, smiling.
"So what can I do for an A?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.
I thought for a minute as my heart rate returned to normal. I was a mess. My boxers still strained from my erection and a wet spot was visible. I had started to sweat and I was staring at this gorgeous, younger woman.
"Are you ticklish?" I asked.
She grinned.
"Extremely," she said.
Maybe she could get an A after all.
To be continued ...
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Even though I had not seen her much in my classroom, I recognized Anna the second she walked in the door of my office as I sat on the couch, looking over some paperwork. She had a look that stood out: about 5'8", size two, athletic build, with long dark brown hair, brown eyes, and numerous tattoos visible on her arms. She was beautiful, no question about it. And also a terrible student. A senior at DDU, she had the smarts but no drive and her attendance, or lack of it, had her failing my class.
"Hi, professor," she said, closing the door behind her.
"Hey Anna, what can I do for you?" I replied.
"I know I have not been in class that often, but I was wondering whether there was anything I could do to bring my grade up. I really need to graduate, and this is the only class holding me back."
Her gaze shifted downward, a bit embarrassed. Mine did as well. It was a warm spring day. She wore a sleeveless white top with flowers and blue and white stripes and a royal blue skirt. Her leg tattoos were visible form the tops of her thighs and down her calfs. She also wore low, open toed heels that showed her smooth, size 8.5 feet and natural toes. I've always been a bit of a foot man, so I could not help but let my gaze linger, just a bit.
"I'm sorry, Anna, I wish I could help. But all the exams and paper deadlines have passed. There's two days left in the semester. I'm afraid you're too late," I said.
She sighed, frustrated.
"There has to be something, some kind of extra credit," she said.
"I wish there was, but there isn't. You can take the course again over the summer and still graduate and walk with your class next week. That's the best I can do," I said.
"But I am supposed to go to Europe and ..." her voice trailed off. I hadn't realized it, but my gaze had lingered ... actually had fixed ... on her feet.
A small smile crept across her face.
"See something you like, professor?" she asked.
"Oh, umm, I'm sorry. I was just kind of lost in thought," I said. "So, if there's nothing else then."
But it was too late, Anna saw her opening. She walked over and sat down on the couch beside me.
"Maybe we can work something out," she said as she lifted her legs and put her feet across my lap.
"What are you doing?" I asked. "Stop this."
She didn't budge. Instead, she moved her heel closer to my groin. In a low, sultry voice, she said. "Look, I think you like my feet. I've seen you staring at them in class. If you give me a passing grade, you can have your way with them right now. What do you say?"
Every fiber of my being told me to say no. I did say the word "no" more than a few times. But she felt the growing hardness under my pants.
"I don't just want your feet," I said. She had me, and she knew it.
"What else do you want?" she asked, seemingly intrigued.
"Tickle me, please," I asked.
She smiled broadly at this unexpected turn. She reached forward and grabbed my by the chin, firmly but not too firmly. She pushed me down on the couch and started to peel my shirt over my head. She kicked her own heels off and sat near my legs, propping her feet up in my face.
"You know what to do," she said.
As I started to kiss her perfect feet, I felt her nails dancing on my stomach. I squirmed and squealed as she tickled me. She worked up and down my sides, down to my waste line, while I dutifully tried to keep kissing her feet and sucking her toes. This went on for a few minutes, I grew harder and she felt the bulge in my pants.
"I think we need to take these off," she said. She stood up. After slipping my shoes off and my socks, she unbuckled my belt and yanked my pants down around my ankles, allowing me to kick them off the rest of the way. I was left there in my boxers, which strained from my erection. She straddled my waste, giving me the perfect view of her ass and the soles of her feet. I felt her nails run down my thighs and shins, driving me nearly insane. I laughed and bucked as best I could, but damn her legs were strong.
"You know," she said. "I could just tie you up and leave you here and let someone find you. Good luck explaining that. Your career would be finished."
I felt her nails on the tops of my feet. I had no idea how ticklish I was there. I kicked hard and nearly bucked her off, but she squeezed my legs tighter between her thighs and tickled without mercy. I tried to muffle my laughter, for fear that someone would hear us, but it was impossible when she started tickling under my toes and on the bottoms of my feet.
"HAHAHAH oh my god please, please stop," I shouted. "You pass! You can pass the class I promise!"
She kept tickling my feet, the tops and the bottoms, for another solid minute, though it felt much longer. Then she stopped. As I caught my breath, she turned toward me, smiling.
"So what can I do for an A?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.
I thought for a minute as my heart rate returned to normal. I was a mess. My boxers still strained from my erection and a wet spot was visible. I had started to sweat and I was staring at this gorgeous, younger woman.
"Are you ticklish?" I asked.
She grinned.
"Extremely," she said.
Maybe she could get an A after all.
To be continued ...
