Kaylan
Kaylan forced herself to keep her eyes open; the harsh lights of the office reflected in her icy green orbs. She fought her body for control, keeping her face impassive, betrayed only by a twitch along her jawline as she clenched her teeth firmly together. Raven was kissing her lips gently, and then his mouth was behind her ear, pushing her back, his lips tracing themsleves delicately along the sensitive skin on the nape of her neck.
Kaylan's body responded, even as her mind fought to remain in control. She did not react as many in her situation would have; either fearful and crying, pleading to be let go, horrified at being tied down and transformed into the lustful centerpiece of a room of aroused individuals. Nor did she give in fully to it, embracing the wanton sexuality that flowed through the office, as palpable a presence as her own golden coral body.
Sex, along with many other things, was a subject Kaylan was both familiar and unfamiliar with. She was not a virgin, but she was chaste; years before she had evaluated the influence and benefits sex could have on her life and rejected it as something to be set aside, possible picked up later. Her arrangement with Jared Hollister was convenient in that sense; she wouldn't have to worry about it.
But now, even as her mind was racing to catalogue and control the sensations that were racing through her body, passions and feelings that had been banished long ago began creeping back into her forward brain, demanding release and satisfaction.
Mrs. Peters had bent her own head to the soft pink of Kaylan's exposed nipple, catching it expertly in her mouth, rolling the nub of flesh gently between her teeth, pushing at it against her incisors with the tip of her tongue. Then moving slightly, her lips pressed hard against the small fleshy mound of Kaylan's breast, her tongue swirling in hard circular motions around the base of the nipple, soaking it, loading it with saliva, even as it stiffened and hardened in the secretary's mouth.
Marie's tongue was also dancing across Kaylan's skin, with more enthusiasm then expertise, but enthusiasm has its own place in the great scheme of things. A neophyte in the arts of sexuality just a day before, she was now wanton and wild and passionate. As Raven glanced down the length of Kaylan's bound body toward the flaming mass of unkempt red hair, he was struck by a whimsical thought, that perhaps he had created better then he had anticipated. Marie was flicking her tongue like a lizard, letting it whisper across the pouting folds of Kaylan's pussy, the tip of her tongue leaving only the slightest trails of moisture and hot, passionate breath. Marie brought forward two fingers, pressing them against Kaylan's labia, and spreading them, exposing the pink and reddish treasure that lay within. Her tongue speared forward, catching the first vesitges of arousal, as if she were licking morning dew from the petals of a rose. Kaylan's womanhood rose slowly, a pearl hidden, coaxed out with the increasingly confident ministrations from Marie.
Professor Raven stepped away from the tableau he had created, taking just a moment to admire the scene within the context of his own arrangements. The placement was just right, he decided, the themes just so. The wanton and unruly child, unleashed sexuality coursing through her blood, wild and accountable to no one, slowly forcing the ice princess into a new and uncharted land, a land where control, like freedom, would be lost and perhaps never missed.
Kaylan trembled, her wrists and ankles securely bound to the table. She could feel her body responding, could feel her nipples growing and stiffening, her body becoming damp in the junction of her legs. She turned her head slightly and stared again at the professor, her green eyes holding no retreat, no concession, challenging him.
Raven allowed himself a smile. Marvelous, he thought. Naked and bound to a table and still she concedes nothing, gives up not an one inch. What a wonderful prize. Out loud, he spoke, meeting her challenging stare head on.
"The Empress Messalina was painted as a murderous harlot, a woman who once took on the entire population of Rome in a night of sexual debauchery. Others now claim she was merely a determined woman who was using the only weapon she had available to her to preserve not only Rome's power, but her own."
He leaned in close, his face stern. "One might say that you share that kind of determination and will. But you are niether a virgin nor a whore, an empress nor a harlot. You are something entirely and wonderfully new, and the journey shall be nearly as exhilirating as the destination."
"You won't have the satisfaction," Kaylan snarled. Again, for all of her brilliance, she failed to see that even a defiant answer was a victory for the professor.
Raven smiled. "Isn't it exciting to have the opportunity to find out?"
Kaylan forced herself to keep her eyes open; the harsh lights of the office reflected in her icy green orbs. She fought her body for control, keeping her face impassive, betrayed only by a twitch along her jawline as she clenched her teeth firmly together. Raven was kissing her lips gently, and then his mouth was behind her ear, pushing her back, his lips tracing themsleves delicately along the sensitive skin on the nape of her neck.
Kaylan's body responded, even as her mind fought to remain in control. She did not react as many in her situation would have; either fearful and crying, pleading to be let go, horrified at being tied down and transformed into the lustful centerpiece of a room of aroused individuals. Nor did she give in fully to it, embracing the wanton sexuality that flowed through the office, as palpable a presence as her own golden coral body.
Sex, along with many other things, was a subject Kaylan was both familiar and unfamiliar with. She was not a virgin, but she was chaste; years before she had evaluated the influence and benefits sex could have on her life and rejected it as something to be set aside, possible picked up later. Her arrangement with Jared Hollister was convenient in that sense; she wouldn't have to worry about it.
But now, even as her mind was racing to catalogue and control the sensations that were racing through her body, passions and feelings that had been banished long ago began creeping back into her forward brain, demanding release and satisfaction.
Mrs. Peters had bent her own head to the soft pink of Kaylan's exposed nipple, catching it expertly in her mouth, rolling the nub of flesh gently between her teeth, pushing at it against her incisors with the tip of her tongue. Then moving slightly, her lips pressed hard against the small fleshy mound of Kaylan's breast, her tongue swirling in hard circular motions around the base of the nipple, soaking it, loading it with saliva, even as it stiffened and hardened in the secretary's mouth.
Marie's tongue was also dancing across Kaylan's skin, with more enthusiasm then expertise, but enthusiasm has its own place in the great scheme of things. A neophyte in the arts of sexuality just a day before, she was now wanton and wild and passionate. As Raven glanced down the length of Kaylan's bound body toward the flaming mass of unkempt red hair, he was struck by a whimsical thought, that perhaps he had created better then he had anticipated. Marie was flicking her tongue like a lizard, letting it whisper across the pouting folds of Kaylan's pussy, the tip of her tongue leaving only the slightest trails of moisture and hot, passionate breath. Marie brought forward two fingers, pressing them against Kaylan's labia, and spreading them, exposing the pink and reddish treasure that lay within. Her tongue speared forward, catching the first vesitges of arousal, as if she were licking morning dew from the petals of a rose. Kaylan's womanhood rose slowly, a pearl hidden, coaxed out with the increasingly confident ministrations from Marie.
Professor Raven stepped away from the tableau he had created, taking just a moment to admire the scene within the context of his own arrangements. The placement was just right, he decided, the themes just so. The wanton and unruly child, unleashed sexuality coursing through her blood, wild and accountable to no one, slowly forcing the ice princess into a new and uncharted land, a land where control, like freedom, would be lost and perhaps never missed.
Kaylan trembled, her wrists and ankles securely bound to the table. She could feel her body responding, could feel her nipples growing and stiffening, her body becoming damp in the junction of her legs. She turned her head slightly and stared again at the professor, her green eyes holding no retreat, no concession, challenging him.
Raven allowed himself a smile. Marvelous, he thought. Naked and bound to a table and still she concedes nothing, gives up not an one inch. What a wonderful prize. Out loud, he spoke, meeting her challenging stare head on.
"The Empress Messalina was painted as a murderous harlot, a woman who once took on the entire population of Rome in a night of sexual debauchery. Others now claim she was merely a determined woman who was using the only weapon she had available to her to preserve not only Rome's power, but her own."
He leaned in close, his face stern. "One might say that you share that kind of determination and will. But you are niether a virgin nor a whore, an empress nor a harlot. You are something entirely and wonderfully new, and the journey shall be nearly as exhilirating as the destination."
"You won't have the satisfaction," Kaylan snarled. Again, for all of her brilliance, she failed to see that even a defiant answer was a victory for the professor.
Raven smiled. "Isn't it exciting to have the opportunity to find out?"
