Ruth was a world-renowned authority in biochemistry, with publications in all the top journals, and had guest-lectured at universities boasting the highest QS rankings. Her IQ was off the charts, putting her among the brightest minds of her generation. For five years, she’d been teaching Genetic Biochemistry while leading a research team that narrowly missed the Nobel Prize two years ago.
But none of that mattered a jot now, as she was about to step into a lecture hall, nearly nude, in front of a select group of students. Her beauty had turned out to be more of a curse than a blessing.
And, of course, there was that little mistake from her past.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this. She had no choice. Those little sods were blackmailing her, and until she figured out how to deal with it, she had to play by their rules. And their rules were brutal, humiliating.
It was midnight, and part of their demands was to secure access to a smaller, nearly forgotten lecture hall without any cameras installed. The things they had instructed her to bring were stashed in a plain black bag. Her hands had been trembling as she packed it, and she couldn’t even imagine pulling out the contents and using them in front of her students, in ways she would never have dreamt of.
She’d even had to go shopping, as nothing in her conservative wardrobe came close to meeting their filthy requirements. When she’d caught sight of herself in the mirror, realising she’d be standing dressed like that in front of the young men she only knew as keen minds, she broke down in tears.
Breathing in and out once more, she grabbed the handle, threw open the door, and marched inside. She headed straight to the front of the massive blackboard, glancing quickly across the rows of seats, her face flushed with shame. There were at least a dozen of them, all wearing masks so she wouldn’t recognise them. They didn’t speak, only watched. The list of things she was meant to do during the “lecture” lay on the desk, neatly printed. She could only guess they were recording her, though she was clever enough to know the odds of them releasing the footage were slim—they’d be exposing themselves as well.
They told her that depending on how well she performed and how satisfied they were, she might or might not have to deliver another “lecture” like this. But she wasn’t naïve; she knew this was just the beginning. If she was going to end this nightmare, it would be by using her brilliant mind to outwit them. For now, though, she had no other choice.
She stood before them, arms hanging loosely at her sides, with almost nothing shielding her bare skin from their greedy gazes. As commanded, she wore only a sheer, pale green mini-dress and towering stiletto heels. Her large, firm breasts were perfectly outlined beneath the flimsy fabric, with her dark, stiff nipples practically on full display. To make matters worse, the dress had a plunging neckline that dipped dangerously close to her navel, and the sheer material barely covered her nipples, threatening to slip with every movement and expose them fully to the eager crowd.
But her humiliation was far from over. She wasn’t even allowed tiny panties under her see-through dress, and so her pussy, which had been waxed according to Brazilian instructions, was exposed to anyone who cared to watch that they were, to a man.
She cleared her throat, wobbling slightly on the unusually high heels, and made her way over to the projector. She switched on the first slide, feeling utterly absurd. Yet, despite how ridiculous this whole show was, the little bastards had demanded that it be a proper lecture with real information.
As she turned to go back in front of the board, she paused. First thing on her list of things to do. She dropped the remote control from the projector and bent down to pick it up. This, as expected, offered the students a complete and unobstructed view of her pussy and anus. Unfortunately for her, she was very unsteady in her heels and it took her a moment to straighten back up from that position. The little fuckers explained it differently and rewarded her long bend over with thunderous applause.
She hated them. They weren’t going to get away with this. They’d made a mistake by turning her into an enemy. She wasn’t just a pretty face with a voluptuous chest perched on long legs. She’d show them the worst in her—that, they could count on.
But for now, in this miserable, degrading moment, she had to play along.
Clicking to the next slide with the remote, the second image appeared on the screen. Along with it came the second command. Each picture came with a specific order, and those bastards had made sure each one was more humiliating and revealing than the last.
She spoke about molecules, her eyes darting across their masked faces. All men—she knew that much—but there was no way to identify who they were. She was the only one in the spotlight, while they lurked in the shadows, their identities safely hidden.
They were waiting.
Inwardly, she reassured herself that the command tied to the second slide wasn’t too terrible.
So, she did it.
She lifted the front of her dress, her private parts had been up for inspection for a while anyway. With her genitals exposed, she then muttered.
“My dirty cunt is wet and ready.”
A student sitting in the front row leaned forward and in a voice modified through some device said: “Speak up, Professor. You have not been heard. How’s your cunt?”
She took a breath, lowered her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at them, and said, louder this time, as requested.
“My… my cunt is wet and ready.”
The bastard spoke again. He grunted in displeasure and said in an amused voice, albeit altered beyond recognition: “Have you forgotten something, Professor?”
She looked around in confusion. She was sure he was enjoying her embarrassment even more than her forced nudity.
“Your cunt, Professor,” the man in the front row spoke up again, his tone sounding like he was really trying to help. “I don’t see your cunt.”
Ruth closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at them. Fortunately, they didn’t insist on a full-length lecture, and once she had fulfilled her five points for the day, she would be able to leave. And that’s what she would do.
She lifted the front of her dress again, revealing her naked, completely shaved pussy to the horny fuckers. She took a deep breath, and said it loud enough that she wouldn’t have to say it out loud again. Never, ever.
“My dirty cunt is wet and ready.”
“That’s exactly what we like to hear, Professor,” the smug voice of the boy in the front row chimed in, full of amusement.
She let it go. No point in giving him the satisfaction. With a click of the remote, the next slide appeared behind her. She’d chosen the basics of molecular genetics for this lecture, trying to convince herself that what she was about to reveal was no more than a series of condensed molecules. Just molecules, nothing else.
Eyes closed, she continued speaking, her voice steady. As if by autopilot, her hands moved to pull aside the fabric that barely covered her breasts in the first place, fully exposing her gorgeous, full chest. Against her will, her nipples had hardened.
She couldn’t see them, but there was no escaping the sound. The little creeps were murmuring with delight, their reaction palpable when she bared her breasts to them.
That was the third. Just two more to go. She could handle this. Later, she’d go home, pour herself a whisky—fill the glass right to the brim with amber comfort—and knock it back in one go. That’d help her sleep. And in the morning, she’d convince herself it had all been just another silly dream, one of those typical ones where you find yourself naked in public. Everyone’s had one of those, right?
She clicked the remote once more, advancing the slide. She wasn’t allowed to remain silent, so she forced herself to speak, even if it was just a brief comment, because the degrading rules demanded it. After uttering her required sentence, she did as instructed and jumped up three times. Her bare breasts bounced wildly, and the students erupted into applause and whistles.
She ignored them, staying focused. Only one more slide to go. The last one. While she mechanically recited more information about molecules, she reached into her bag and pulled out a cucumber, still wrapped in the cellophane from the store. She’d washed it earlier, preparing for this moment, as revolting as it was.
Facing the silent crowd, she could feel their eyes locked on her. The anticipation hung thick in the room, and she didn’t need to see their faces to know exactly what was going on beneath those desks.
She slowly inserted the cucumber into her mouth. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi. Done.
The room exploded with noise. Some stood, giving her a standing ovation, cheering as though they were watching a sensual performance.
She hated them. Every single one of them.
With the cucumber still in her mouth, she bit down hard, snapping off a chunk. She spat it onto the floor, watching with satisfaction as several of the students winced at the metaphor she had thrown in their faces.
Good. They deserved it.
Dropping the remaining cucumber on the ground, she turned and stormed out of the lecture hall. The applause still followed her, but she ignored it, slamming the door shut and leaning against it as she struggled to hold back the tears. She quickly threw on the coat she’d stashed there and tried to pull herself together.
No, this wouldn’t end here. They thought they had her beaten? They wanted a war? They’d get one.
In a few days, there’d be another lesson. She knew it would be worse—more intimate, more humiliating. But she’d survive. She had to. Because what she had planned for them, they’d never see coming.
That’s all for now! Want more? Just hit one of those buttons and tip me nicely, then scroll down past the donation section to find a link to the full series waiting for you.
Help Fund the Next Class: Your Contribution Fuels Innovative Learning Experiences!
Hit the banner to dive into the full list of episodes from this steamy series!
Discover more from Kink Stories
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.