"Eh eee ow uh ih. Hey, ah yu pro-feh-uh. EEEEE!" There was something deep into
Ashley's mouth. Something gagging her. She explored it with her tongue.
Something thick. A cylinder. Hard rubber? It was shaped just like a........ She
had a dong stuffed in her mouth! She was lashed over a chair. Her legs splayed
wide, pelvis arched out. Her hair was down and redder than blood. She felt long
earrings dangling from her lobes and there was a fat dildoe strapped between her
lips. And, biggest surprise of all, Ashley wasn't scared!
Ashley primped for the date. Hurle Stance was the primo bachelor on the faculty,
more importantly, he was the only potential obstacle to her tenure appointment.
This was year six at Powell College - The 'T' year. She and Hurle started
together in the Psycho-Soc Department. He'd matched her article for article,
book for book and each of them had an equal number of die-hard student
supporters. They both served on key committees and had a gaggle of staunch
backers on the senior faculty. Problem was, there was only one tenure position
open and it'd go to either Hurle or Ashley. The smart money leaned toward Hurle.
In the ivy'ed halls, tenure means employment for life, losers gets terminated.
But he asked her out! Six years, not a tumble, and tonight, a week before the
decision, Hurle Stance calls and asks Ashley over to his place for dinner.
Alone. Mischief? Did he know something? Was there an advantage here for her? If
Hurle Stance's a hunk, Ashley's a dark haired hunk-ette. Halfway between five
and six feet tall, slim waisted, fine breasted and tightly bunned, Ashley has a
body that works. Most of her student support came from boys and girls lusting to
slide into her panties. And with razor sharp cheekbones, emerald eyes and full
pouting lips - Ashley commanded attention in class and out. How to dress for the
date? She went with snug. Snug corset to overemphasize everything. Snug, but
demure white blouse. A longish snug beige skirt over hose and medium heels. A
sensibly feminine look. Ready for anything, but suggesting the minimum. Let him
make the moves, but be ready to exploit them. Hair up, middle makeup and, oh
yes, a small voice-actuated recorder in her purse to catch any improprieties.
Ashley thought about the old fashioned virtues of Professor Kincaid, the
Department Chairman. Maybe the right tape could turn the deal for her. He was a
gentleman at dinner. Small talked his way into the living room. Offered her
wine, and.... Sweet dreams Ashley. "There are a couple a new ones tonight boys.
That redhead's really ripe!" Her eyes focused slowly on the young men, graduate
students at Powell. Two of Ashley's favorites. They were upside down. No.....
no. She was upside down. No, she was. SHE WAS TIED UP! Somewhere down below, her
ankles were lashed wide to the legs of a sturdy chair, and she felt her insteps
arched up in dangerously high heels. Stupidly she tried to look down at them. Or
across to them. Because, somehow Ashley was bent backward over the chair and her
head was stretched down to the seat with her wrists lashed to the front legs of
the thing. Ashley shook her head and tried to yell to the men. To scream for
help. But two strange things happened. Long red curls splayed in a cloud around
her head. Red? Her hair was darker than a winter night? Odd as that seemed, the
other thing was a lot more distracting. "Eh eee ow uh ih. Hey, ah yu pro-feh-uh.
EEEEE!" Ashley's mouth was mashed full. Something gagging her. She explored it
with her tongue. Thick. A cylinder. Hard rubber? A rod shaped just like
a........ There was a dong stuffed in her mouth! She was lashed backward over a
chair, her legs splayed wide, pelvis arched out, her hair was down and redder
than blood. She felt long earrings dangling from her lobes and there was a fat
dildoe strapped between her lips. And, biggest surprise of all, Ashley wasn't
scared! In fact, she was oddly calm and relaxed, like...... like she was.......
How? Why? In a rush things cleared. There was a drug running through her. Making
her calm, and something else. Something she couldn't quite..... "This one's on
Ecstasy," a woman's voice said. She was out of Ashley's view but obviously
nearby. "Timed release. She'll build all night. Three hundred bucks and you've
got her and the room." Her students circled now, staring. One of the boys
reached down and tickled his fingers over her tits. Her tits? Her breasts were
bare, popping free from a fog of lace in an open red bra that held them up like
twin peaks poking through the morning mists. Someone had rouged her nipples. She
struggled to look down. Apparently she was all in red. A crushing satin corset,
long red stockings, high red shoes and long red satin gloves. "Kind of a slutty
look, huh?" The tallest guy, Jonathan, stood hands on hips staring down at her
face. She blushed to realize where her lips came on him. "That makeup job
probably took her a couple of hours," the woman's voice was bored, obviously
anxious to make a sale. Makeup? What? What did she look like? Jonathan didn't
seem to recognize her at all. And the other man.... Dwight. Yes, Dwight. She
looked over at the shorter student. Both men were in their mid twenties and in
prime shape. Runners she thought, and giggled. Giggled? For the first time
Ashley took stock. Here she stood, or something. A lot of things were done to
her, so these men who saw her almost every day had no recognition. She looked up
to see red nipples pointing at Jonathan and she looked back to catch a glimpse
of Dwight staring into her pussy. "Fuh Gahs sakes. Ah yuh pr-fe-suh. Leh-neh
looo. Leh-mee guh!" "What's she saying?" "Who gives a shit. Look at the way
she's struggling. What a piece. Let's do it Dwight. Can we take pictures?" "The
video's always on, the tape's with the deal. So?" The woman wanted it done.
Ashley, shook her head, pulled at the chair, screamed into her gagging. And
heated up. They let her go in the morning after the boys left. Perhaps it was
the drug, but she still smiled when she awoke to the phone, Hurle calling to
invite her over. There were a couple of tapes. She watched one at his house.
Good lighting. Under the sparkling makeup and red curls, under the satin corset
and shiny hose, under it all, you knew it was Ashley. If you were told. Who'd
tell? Jonathan and Dwight would swear she was a participant and the tape
confirmed it. The part about the drug was gone, but not the part when they took
off her rubber gag and replaced it with living things. She could have asked for
help then. In a way she did. But not the sort of help a victim might have. Tim
got tenure. Ashley got.... Right. In fact she gets him a lot. Sometimes at their
home. Sometimes at the bondage brothel. She teaches on a part time basis now, an
adjunct member of the faculty. An interesting thing about having a brilliant
lover, he never gets dull. Great imagination. And sometimes, when she's flopping
around alone during the day in some kind of hampered getup, she misses some of
the students, particularly Dwight and Jonathan.
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