THE PROFESSOR SERIES PART 1B

Author: ianlt
Title: THE PROFESSOR SERIES PART 1B
Date: 17 October 2015

THE PROFESSOR SERIES: PART IB

Shortly after 1PM on Sunday I heard his bike turn down my street and stop in front of my house. I greeted him at the door, put my arm around his shoulder, and led him in the house. He ran his hands through his hair and smiled at me. I’m sure he could see what looked like a sausage on my thigh. He had eaten so I had him strip. I was not surprised to see that he was nude under his leathers. He did not wear his gold chain, anticipating correctly that I would padlock a steel chain around his neck, which I immediately did.
I tied his wrists together behind his neck. Then I tied a cord from his wrists to his collar, and another through his ass crack and pulling tightly tied the end to his ball sack. If he tried to relieve the stress on his arms or tried to bend at his waist he would well nigh castrate himself. I ran my hands down the sides of his body. What a sight, how good it felt.
I told him to lay down on the floor. He asked how after his few attempts ripped at his nut sack. I laughed and told him to figure it out for himself. Eventually he dropped to his knees and fell onto his chest. His erection, which was sticking straight out was, I’m sure, unpleasantly bent on impact with the floor. He called out and I laughed.
I tied his ankles and knees together and placed his reading assignment on the floor in front of him.
“How am I supposed to read that?” he asked
“Arch your back, lift your head off the ground and read. You’ve done this exercise before. I’ll even help and sit on your feet.”
“Gee thanks,” was his sarcastic reply as he laughed.
“Oh and you will need to turn the page with your mouth.”
I placed my reading on his thighs. I knelt on his feet, reading and watching his superbly crafted back raise up and then relax to rest before lifting again. He was reading a highly erotic kidnapping story. I wondered how his cock felt.
When he was done, I made him read it again, this time propping the paper up and putting a pillow under his chest.
“That was a cool story” he said when he had finished. He had twisted his body to try to look at me. I loved the way he wanted to look at me, a way of wanting to worship me.
I untied him and let him up. Sent him to the bathroom. When he returned he had a huge grin on his face. He stood naked in front of me, flexing slightly, looking in my eyes. What an eager student, nearly begging to begin writing his assignment.
I used the bondage chair again. This time I had fixed a butt plug to the chair base. He gingerly impaled himself on the lubricated plug. There would be no pelvic movement today. His ankles were tied off to the top of the rear chair legs. I roped the middle of a cord around his stretched nuts, under the chair and tied each end to his big toes. Each foot and toe was flexed tightly forward. Any attempt to stretch would result in a powerful pull on his nuts.
“Oh, God” he gasped, smiling in pain when he tried to wiggle away from my running a fingernail along the sole of his foot.
I roped his chest and waist tightly to the chair back. I applied tit clamps and his cock got even larger. I roped the end of his cock and tied it off to the tit clamp chain.
I pulled the laptop over and set him to work evaluating the writer’s use of literary devices and techniques and their impact on the story.
I pulled up a chair alongside him and graded the Friday quizzes. From his questions it was obvious that he had studied the sheet that I had given him, and that he was most eager to do a good job. When he finished I slipped a gas mask over his head. I tied it to the chair immobilizing his head and then reduced the airflow to the mask. He bucked, groaned, gasped. He may have been frightened but his cock stayed hard and straight.
I took off his titclamps and he settled down to a steady regular breathing pattern. I could hear the rhythmic flaps of the mask and saw the rubber expand and contract as he breathed. I corrected his paper, which needed no corrections for content but needed spelling and grammar assistance. I then finished grading the Friday papers idling stroking my cock, which was fully as large as his.
When I removed the mask, he said. “God you scared me.”
“Did you like it?” I asked.
“Yeah, it was cool, I could feel within myself or something like that.”
“Good, I’m glad. Here is your paper, The content is of high quality. The undisciplined use of the English language is unfortunately typical of young people these days.”
I set him back to work with a resulting modicum of improvement.
When he had completed his work, I released him and helped him off the butt plug. He was embarrassed by the anal seepage but I sent him to the shower while I cleaned up. I put on my leathers; pants, harness, boots, and jacket. When he returned to the room, naked, his cock rose in a greeting to my leather.
“Sit down,” I instructed. “Eat something. You did an outstanding job today.”
He sat. We ate. We talked about the surf, about water polo. What the chances were for national rankings. We talked about where on the beach we liked to run.

As I washed up, he helped me. When finished, I turned to him and put my hands on his shoulder. I felt a subtle thrill and a slight throb to his cock. Ah, yes, this was glorious.
“I usually spend Sunday afternoon at my club. Would you like to go as my guest?”
“Really? That would be so cool. I mean, would it be alright? Yes, I would like that. Now?”
“Yes, now, tie up you cock and balls with that leather thong. I know that you know how. Get your leathers on.” I put a smooth soft hood over his head and snapped a flat gag over his mouth.
I told him to put his helmet on. “No one will know that you are hooded.”
I could hear a quiet “Yes Sir” muffled behind the gag.
We went to our cycles and started up, riding side by side. I was leaning back on my Harley cruising, and David Tucker was alongside sleek and smooth, a black body crouched over his machine.
We parked our bikes outside the door and locked our helmets to them. He was, I think nervous taking his helmet off exposing his hood in a public space. He looked around before he did so. Out of my saddlebag, I took out a plug gag to replace the flat gag. I used handcuffs to cuff his hands behind his back, patted his swollen crotch and attached a chain to a steel collar I had placed around his neck.
I led him into the club. He could see. He could only follow me and watch. He was quite content. After all, he had no choice but to be there. He had to see what was happening. He wouldn’t break any law by drinking any beer. He didn’t have to talk to anyone. If left alone he either would have bolted in nervousness or hid in a corner. Hiding in a corner was not an option as I pulled his chain to follow me.
I’m well known and respected at the club. I was greeted and joshed by friends. Admiration was expressed for the leather-encased body I had on my chain. Even covered in leather, it was obvious that he was a prime specimen. A man approached and bent down and put his hands behind his back. He began licking my boots. Boot licking is not something that is terribly important to me, but I allowed this gesture of respect mostly to show Dave. Eventually I kicked him away and the man rose and disappeared. I had a beer and chatted, watching some of the early play activity, occasionally patting Dave’s crotch to check its hardness.
I had arranged to play with a man that afternoon. When the man approached, I rehandcuffed Dave’s hands behind a post so he could watch. The steel collar around his neck indicated that he was my property for the day, so no one would touch or molest him.
The man I was going to play with was Jim. Jim is a compact, muscle bound cute guy with a shaved head. He pulled off his clothes and stood before me with his hands behind his back. I had supplies kept at the club so began by padding his eyes and then wrapping duct tape several times around his head at eye level. I stuffed a sock in his mouth and wrapped several layers of tape around his mouth as well. I spun him around and tied his wrists together behind his back. I tied a rope around his neck and tugged his arms tightly up his back. I looped some rope around his chest and upper arms. I was brutal and rough. I shackled his ankles together leaving a short chain between them. I tied the end of a rope around his balls and held the other end in my hand as I pushed him into the middle of the room. I yanked on his balls and he staggered. I pushed him away. This was a favorite activity for Jim. The guys in the club joined in. He was shoved, and jerked. Guys would stick out their legs and trip him. He crashed to the floor numerous times. He was winded from the exercise but he could only gasp for air through his nose. His cock was rock solid. I looked over at Dave who was straining to watch. I could see the bulge in his crotch. When Jim had fallen on the floor, he was kicked till he struggled up again. It was a great test of endurance for him. He was in such superb shape that he took a lot of beating and crashing to the floor. Finally I pulled him over to me and pushed him to his knees. I ripped off the tape gag and he spat out the sock.
I stood close to Dave and turned so that Dave could see not only me but also Jim kneeling at my feet. I fondled Dave’s crotch and also unzipped his jacket and tweaked his tits. Then I turned to Jim and slammed my hand against the side of Jim’s face. I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock. It was nicely enlarged. Jim eagerly opened his mouth and swallowed my cock. I held his head and we pumped together. It was hard, rough, almost brutal sex. I occasionally reached over to check Dave’s crotch and pull on his tits. His breathing was as rapid and as aroused as if he was Jim or I. I prolonged our play but eventually pushed Jim’s head away and jerked off a huge orgasm over his face. I pulled Jim to his feet and we passionately kissed. I glanced over at Dave and could see in his mouth working on his gag as if he was locked in our kiss. I shoved Jim away. He stepped back toward me. I allowed him to approach and he put his head on my shoulder and nuzzled me. He said, “Thank you, Sir.” He backed away. He would remain bound and blindfolded the rest of the evening. The bartender would release him at the end of the evening. In the interim, he would wander around and be given beer, or be treated roughly or affectionately by the members. He would suck some cock, and some men would suck his.
I turned to Dave. He was breathing heavily. I took the chain linked to his neck chain and wrapped it around the post. Then I reached into his jacket and gave his tits a workout. The neck chain kept him immobilized to the post. His feet would dance seeking relief. He would buck and try to twist. He tried to shout. But all through this play, his cock was bulging and he kept his eyes focused on mine.
Then I released him from the post. As I led him to the door we were hailed by clubmembers. They congratulated me for the play with Jim. They admired my mysterious chained leatherman, and with permission ran their hands over Dave’s body. When we were outside. I removed the chains from his neck, and zipped up Dave’s jacket. I stuffed his helmet on his head over the hood. Then I removed Dave’s handcuffs. He stretched his arms as I unlocked our bikes. We mounted and rode home, side by side. At the turnoff to his apartment, I told him to go home and return the hood next week. I laughed thinking how discomforted he was going to be trying to get the hood off in his crowded student neighborhood. And I went home to daydream.


I had told him that, as long as he was a student of mine, I would not fuck him, nor would he (as if, ever) fuck me. I realized how hard this commitment would be. It was obvious that he was infatuated with me, just by the way he would look at me, but also by the way he would breathe. But I was infatuated with him as well. He was an object of my daydreams and poetry. I could justify what I did to him on Sunday afternoons since it could be construed as a study enhancement technique. I could even justify taking him to the club with me so long as no one touched him and he was only allowed to watch. What I wanted however, was to fuck his ass, kiss his mouth, and to possess him completely. That would all have to wait.
Because he attended all the classes and his first 2 make up assignments were excellent; I filed a reinstatement report at the end of the second week. I realized that he could be quite tempted to drop his extra study session since he had achieved his goal of being reinstated to the polo team.
But at 1PM on Sunday he arrived dressed in his leathers. I greeted him at the door.
“Mr. Tucker, I’m glad you came. Now that you are passing my course, I suspect it crossed your mind to spend Sunday afternoons doing other things than having a tutorial with me.”
He looked at me and smiled, “But Dr. Lewis, your pedagogy method is highly motivating.” Then he ran his hands through his hair pushing it off his beautiful face. He smirked, laughed and fondled his crotch, “Besides I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your weekend jollies.”
God, am I so obvious? Probably yes.
Pointedly ignoring his comment, I had him strip. I led him into the study. In the center of the room was a post which had a long butt plug fixed to the top. With a stool I had him climb onto the butt plug and lower himself down. Once I removed the stool he could get some relief by standing on his toes. I tied the end of a cord to his balls and pulled him down firmly and tied the cord to an eyebolt at the bottom of the post. No bondage and yet he was going to go nowhere. I wrapped his cock in a pinprick studded cock sheathe and strapped on the hood he had remembered to return. Before strapping in the plug gag, I had him tell me how he had hidden behind a Dumpster to get the hood off without being seen.
He was very effectively impaled, which was fitting since his assignment was to read a brief historical essay on Vlad the Impaler before reading an excerpt from Shelly’s Dracula. He was to compare the historical figure’s personality with the Victorian counterpart. I worked behind him. It was beautiful to watch his body squirm and writhe gently as he responded to the incessant pressure of the plug. His body gleamed with a light sweat but he was obviously working at his assignment reading the books, glancing back and forth and referring to them as he worked at the computer.
He signaled the completion of his work by closing the books. I pushed the table away and stood before him. I told him to put his hands behind his back. Then I grabbed his pulled down balls and squeezed them till he bent forward and groaned. His hands left his back for an instant before he returned them. Impressive. I moved my hands to his tits and with our eyes locked on each other we wordlessly affirmed our mutual unspoken, and unfulfilled desire. I worked his tits till he was bucking and his legs were involuntarily grasping for position.
I strapped the blindfold onto his hood then tied his wrists together and pulled them up over his head to the back of his neck. I tied them there with a rope wrapped with many coils around his neck, stretching his torso tight. God he was beautiful. I attached a vise to his swollen balls and tightened it till his was panting. I hung tit clamps, which I then weighted.
I stripped and slowly jerked off as I circled his impaled and joyously suffering body. Then I slipped on my shorts and corrected his paper. It was a good essay, with good insight and improving grammar.
When I had completed his paper, plus some of the other from the class, had something to drink and watered the plants, I released him. I unhooked the cord from his balls to the post and put the stool by his feet. His legs trembled as he climbed off the post. I pulled him off the stool and he nearly stumbled in exhaustion. The tit weights jingled and I heard a sharp intake of breath. Then I removed the clamps, the sheathe, and the vise. He moaned in relief. I had him lie down and he rested for few minutes before I untied him and gave him something to eat and drink.
And when asked, he wanted to go with me to the club, in fact he would have begged me to take him. I got dressed in my leathers while he cleaned up. I gave him the locking chastity pants to wear and then he put on his biking leather. And as we did the previous week, we rode into the city, side by side. I cruised, lying back on my bike, and he crouched over his machine.
I felt like showing off this day. So I had him strip off his boots and leathers. I had him run his hands through his hair then cuffed them behind his back tying some rope around his shoulders to keep the wrists up high and accentuating his huge chest and back. I locked a ball gag in his beautiful mouth and led him inside by the chain around his neck.
I was greeted as if I was a Caesar leading a prince of a Germanic enemy into Rome. Besides my usual greetings men asked to touch my guest. Dave was handled by many men, touching his face and running their hands over his body, his ass, rubbing his protected and padded crotch. I found him catching my eye seeking reassurance that he was safe, but also seeking to see if he was making me proud.
I made my rounds. I kept Dave’s identity a mysterious secret although those who knew my occupation could have figured he was a student. He followed barefoot behind me and stood next to me. I would put my arm around his shoulder, tweak a tit, or fondle his ass or crotch occasionally. Otherwise, I ignored him, letting him observe.
A while later, a man named Bob asked to be fucked. “OK,” I said.
I led Bob to the sling with Dave following. Bob lay in the sling and I roped his legs and arms to the chains suspending the sling. I like guys immobilized so I use lots of rope wrapping each entire extremity. I pulled Dave to the head end of the sling. I had him separate his legs and I adjusted Bob’s head so that his head was jammed into Dave’s crotch. I tied ropes around Dave’s thighs to the sling so Bob’s head was immobilized under Dave. I tied ropes from the straps on Dave’s gag to the sling’s chains. Then I placed a row of lighted candles down the center of Bob’s trunk. Soon they would be dripping and any motion would slosh a pool of wax onto Bob. Then I slowly and roughly fucked Bob. Bob’s grunts were muffled by Dave’s crotch. Wax was dripping down Bob’s trunk, and my movements caused the sling to sway pulling Dave along with it. And my eyes were fixed on Dave not Bob, and Dave’s eyes were fixed on mine. I was very aroused and pulled out cumming all over Bob’s chest, just avoiding by a last second conscious motion to avoid splattering my student. We were all content, Bob, Dave, I, and the crowd of onlookers.
After releasing Bob and Dave we hung around for a while and then left. Dave was untied. He put his leathers back on and his boots. I told him to put his helmet on which he did with an expression of amused resignation. And as he expected, as we got to the corner of his street, I handed him the keys to the pants and gag and left him.

And so the next 6 weeks went. Dave regularly attended class, did quality assignments, came for his weekly tutorial, and went with me to observe the activities at my club. He played excellent waterpolo. I would watch him surfing, and occasionally “just by coincidence” we ended up jogging together on the beach going the same way at the same time. Apparently he was studying better in his other classes as well.


As the semester came to an end, I found my mood to be consistent with an adolescent. I was alternatingly giddy and morose. My students were confused, but that only served to enhance my mystic with the infatuated young women in my classes. Most of the guys were too blasé to notice. On the last day of class, Dave had made up all the assignments at our Sunday tutorials. He handed in his last in-class essay at my desk, turned and high-fived a classmate and headed for the door. I lounged at my desk. My boots on the desk, my leather pants shining, contoured tightly to my leg muscles. I was fiddling with my pencil, making the appropriate banal comments to the students as they left my class. I looked up and saw Dave turn and wink at me.
The following Sunday afternoon at 1 o’clock, I was sitting on the front porch waiting. And from a block away, I heard the familiar drone of a high performance machine. It turned the corner and the black cycle and rider stopped in front of my house. I stood as he approached.
He took off his helmet and dropped it onto the porch chair. He ran his hands through his hair and looked at me.
“Mr. Tucker,” I said.
“Dr. Lewis, “ he replied.
“Dr. Lewis,” he repeated, “I want to thank you for what you did for me this semester.”
“It was my privilege,” I replied, “But tell me, What did I do for you that you are thanking me for.”
“Well, Um, Dr. Lewis, you didn’t get me expelled.”
“True,” I replied. And so I handed him the tape from my Dictaphone. “This isn’t needed anymore.”
He held the tape in both hands, working it with his fingers, staring down at it. I wondered if he knew how much power I had just returned to him. After a moment he tossed it onto the chair next to his helmet. “And you, um, gave me a great grade in your class.”
“The grade was an appropriate reflection of your work.”
“Yes, well maybe, but thanks, and, well, also, um.”
“Mr. Tucker, do you recall my earlier comment that for a person with a solid grasp of persuasive writing, you have a pathetic speaking ability?”
He laughed, running his hands through his hair once again. “I’m getting there, I’m sorry, and what I’m trying to say, well, is”
“Yes? Mr. Tucker”
“The tutorials, I mean what we did on Sundays, well, that was really helpful. Thank you.”
“You responded quite well to appropriate motivation. You are quite welcome”
“And, well, I was wondering, well, would it be possible, um, well, I don’t suppose, well could we?”
I waited through this run on sentence.
“I, mean, would it be possible if we could keep doing these tutorials next semester. I think it would help me keep my grades up, and everything.”
“Tell me Mr. Tucker, did our Sunday tutorials do anything else than improve your study habits?”
“Oh, God, Dr. Lewis, they were so cool,” he replied as he leaned against the porch looking down at his hands.
“Dr. Lewis, they were the most powerful thing in my life. You showed me who I was, and you helped me accept it and enjoy it. I really want that, Dr. Lewis.” He said quietly as he looked up at me with pleading eyes.
“Mr. Tucker, as of two days ago, you are no longer a student of mine. That allows me permission to answer the question you asked me that was recorded on that tape.”
“Yes?”
“Do you have a question to ask me, Mr. Tucker?”
“Oh, Well,” he started, quietly, hesitantly. “Do you want to fuck me?”
And I, softly and tenderly replied to him, “And how do you wish me to answer that question, now that you are no longer a student of mine?”
“Please, Sir, Would you?”
“Ah, Mr. Tucker,” I said, “It would be the very greatest pleasure.”
I walked over to where he was leaning on the porch. I reached out and grasped his arms and he stood. I gently kissed him and I pulled him into the house.
“Come, I have something to show you,” I said.
Inside the house I turned to him and seized him in an embrace and ground my mouth into his. And he grasped me and returned the kiss. Sometime later, I pulled away and grabbed his leather jacket pulling him after me. I led him upstairs. Upstairs was my bedroom, and a guestroom, but we didn’t go there. Instead we went to the back of the house and I unlocked a sealed door. I pulled him into the room and shut the door. With a turn of the rheostat, he was introduced to my playroom and its equipment. I had yearned for this moment for the past eight weeks and it was now here.
“Oh God, This is so cool. I mean its amazing, God,” he exclaimed as he turned around feasting on the room. “Can we use this stuff?”
“I believe the more appropriate question is ‘Would you use this stuff on me?’ Am I correctly understanding your consistently incoherent verbal utterances?”
“Yes Sir,” he replied with a mixture of contrite amusement.
“Would now be an acceptable time to begin?” I asked.
“OK, now, the answer is, see that I’m finally learning,” he laughed, “is a simple, yes”
“Very good” I replied
I had him strip. I put him in a leather straight jacket, and cinched it up tightly. His face was just glowing and his cock was fully erect. Even in the straightjacket his V shaped torso was magnificent. Kissing him, I brushed his hair back and slipped on his hood. I left the mouth open but buckled on the blindfold. I hooked a chain from the rafter to the “D” ring on the top of the hood and placed fetters on his ankles with a very short chain between the cuffs. I kissed him and he eagerly responded. I touched his body and thighs. He would jerk in surprise. He tried to find me and lean into me.
I put tit clamps on him and tightly tied his cock and balls and hung and dropped a weight from them. He groaned and swore. I stopped his swear word with a kiss. He ground his body into mine, oblivious to the abuse the tit clamps were doing to him as I embraced him. I would pull away and he would stumble forward seeking me, his mouth open, eager to be united once again.
I removed the tit clamps and ball weight. I led him over to my sling. As he lay down he recognized what it was from the day at the club with Bob, and his cock actually grew harder and longer and twitched. Ah, enthusiasm, isn’t it wonderful?
I proceeded to thoroughly strap his straightjacketed body to the sling. I attached the hood so that when I took the blindfold off, he could look down the length of his body and look nowhere else. Not that he would want to. I put cuffs on his ankles and around his knees and padlocked them to the sling’s chains. I tied the cord around his cock and balls to a weight after looping the cord through a pulley above his body.
He was immobilized. I inserted a large plug gag in his mouth and strapped in down. He was ready. He knew it and he was eager. He also would be able to handle getting his virgin ass fucked since he had been getting an ever-increasing butt plug up his ass for the last 8 weeks. I wanted this to be a wonderful experience.
I put on a condom and lubed him up. Gradually I entered him. The expression in his eyes was wonderful; puzzlement, pain, desire, curiosity, and experience. He watched my face, and he looked down to where he knew my cock was. As I gently moved in and out, he made sounds, grunts of surprise and discomfort, and sounds of pleasure and desire. His balls were stretched and pulled and the weight swung. I took my time, pulling out and resting, prolonging our experience, entering, changing the rhythm. As soon as I finally detected fatigue setting in, I jammed hard into him. He grunted and tried to move with me. I pounded at him and he squirmed with desire. I pulled out. I grabbed his cock and gently touched it. He throbbed violently. Already his cock was drenched with his precum. While stroking my cock, I leaned over him and grabbed a nipple and pulled hard. My mouth was on his cock, licking and sucking it. Through his gag he called out an incoherent sound. I could feel his balls throbbing to release so I would stop and slow down. I put the tit clamps back on him and pulled the chain and swung at the ropes. His cock just continued to pulsate in frustration. Standing between his legs, it was time for my release, eight weeks of yearning. It took only a couple of strokes to send a geyser of cum over his chest, splattering his hood, in a long lasting orgasm with aftershock of pleasure. I swatted his balls and played with his tit clamps causing him to writhe in pain and pleasure. I wiped my cum onto my hand and began to work his cock. He bucked and strained. Five times I pulled him right to the point and held him off. He was grunting and squirming. Every muscle in his body was straining and working. With a final coating of my cum, I stroked him faster as he worked his bound body in rhythm with me, the sling swaying, the ball weight nearly bouncing. He shot out a huge load, some of it arching over his head and covering his hood and the chest of the straight jacket, mingling his cum with mine. Pulsing aftershocks throbbed his cock for minutes before he settled down.
I took off the ball weights and tit clamps. He sighed with relief. I took out the gag and we wordlessly and gently kissed. I released him from the sling and took the hood off. I helped him up. I ran my fingers through his hair and we kissed. He slumped into my arms. I held him and gently ran my hands over his body. He was exhausted and wonderfully content still snuggly confined sweating in the straightjacket. He murmured over and over, “Thanks you.”
And finally he very quietly said, “Dr. Lewis, would it be alright if I said I think I love you?”
“You are probably too young to really know what that means,” I said, “but I am greatly honored by it. I accept your expressions of love with gratitude and appreciation for I who should truly know what love is, do, in fact, love you.”
I held him and he leaned into me.
I led him out of the playroom across the hall into my bedroom. The straight jacket looked wonderful on his sweaty body. The windows were open. The sound of the surf and the Sunday crowds came into the room along with the breeze. We lay on the bed and he curled his body into mine as I held him.
“May I stay here tonight?” he asked.
I turned over to the nightstand. I turned back to him and held out two rings for a man’s ear; a small gold one and a larger twisted steel one. “The gold for me and the steel for you. We can get them put in tomorrow. I was expecting you to stay.” Then I kissed him.