Welcome to a collaborative effort between myself and Plesiosaur. There'll be graphic lesbian lewdness and BDSM scenes from the opening and age-gap bubbline. Enjoy.
Sitting in the auditorium waiting for class to start was a very particular kind of torture. Marceline smirked to herself, more than willing to wait for as long as necessary. She was perfectly happy sitting on her uncomfortable plastic bench with the radiant agony of long raised welts running from her lower back all the way to the tops of her legs pulsing under her skin, turning her thoughts to the night before.
"Hey cutie, how would you like to come to the playroom with me?"
Tall and slender, dressed in a figure hugging black leather catsuit the woman radiated confidence and sexuality. And she was smiling at Marceline like she'd just noticed a particularly tasty morsel on a buffet. Wow, the online reviews had been right, this club was the place to come if you wanted to try something a little less vanilla. This wasn't just a little less vanilla though; this went right through plain old vanilla and all the way into the far side of dark chocolate. And Marceline was so eager to discover if dark chocolate was as delicious as she thought it would be.
"Yo, thanks for saving my seat." a voice next to her announced, quickly followed by Finn dropping down heavily next to her and making her wince at the extra vibrations against her bruises. "So, anatomy, huh? You excited to be a junior?"
"Hey. Can't talk. Hungover." Marcy lied distantly. Not that she didn't like Finn well enough to hang with but she was too busy thinking about the night before, about slender hands checking her restraints and sliding a black silken blindfold over her eyes before a warm voice was murmuring in her ear.
"You got a safeword, cute stuff?"
"Uh, peppermint."
"Yeah, ok. You tell me that if I get too rough, right? We'll start with a little open handed spanking to warm you up. You can call me Princess, or mistress, or Your Highness if you're into that. What about you, sweet thing? What do they call you?"
"Marceline." she replied honestly, a little too out of her depth to think clearly. The woman laughed softly.
"Your scene name. You think my parents christened me Princess?"
"Oh. Uh. Nightwing?" she hazarded, still feeling a little stupid saying it out loud. Scene names were something else that was completely new to her but it made sense that a lot of people who gathered at private parties to spank like-minded individuals probably didn't want their real names to end up getting handed around.
"Nightwing, like the superhero. Got it. No need to explain, kid. I can tell you're new to this. First time on the scene, huh? Well, Nightwing the Newbie, shall we get started?"
The first firm slap landed against her ass before she had time to tense in anticipation and Marcy let out a little mewl of surprise. She'd been expecting Princess to start out slow and gentle, warm her up some before increasing the speed and force. But she was already more than a little turned on just from being tied face down across the table, blindfolded and spanked by a very hot stranger. Before long she'd forgotten that everyone else in the fetish club could hear her moans and cries as the hard slaps turned into lashes from a vicious single tailed flogger and finally the agonizing burn of a rigid willow cane. And through it all Princess kept on talking to her, asking if she was ok, caressing her neck and cheeks, trailing kisses down the bruises and welts she'd just inflicted on toned, willing flesh.
College was supposed to be the place where a girl could experiment and find herself. Not Marceline, not when going to the best Catholic college her father's money could buy was the only thing her parents had agreed on in twenty years. And before that all they'd ever had in common was one night when they'd both agreed that condoms were a much worse sin than fornication and besides, they could risk it just one time. Her mother was fond of telling her she was a miracle sent from God and she was the only good thing to have come out of her parents' little indiscretion. Her Mom probably meant that to be comforting but Marceline had never found it to be anything but pressuring.
And that was a problem because Marceline wasn't what her mother thought she was. She wasn't virtuous or innocent, she wasn't going to Catholic college for any other reason than because it was halfway across the country and nobody expected anything from her except attending classes and passing exams. So, maybe college was somewhere she could turn herself around after all. After spending her first couple of years at Notre Dame jumping whenever someone mentioned anything even slightly queer or kinky and wishing she was braver Marceline had finally gotten together enough courage to join an online group and explore some interests that she'd been repressing pretty hard until then. It took six months of talking to people online and deciding she finally felt comfortable enough to meet face to face before she finally accepted the invitation to that month's private party. It more than lived up to her expectations. And now that she'd actually gone and done it and experienced things other people only fantasized about she had to face dumb reality again like she hadn't just had her entire world turned upside down.
"So you know much about the professor for this class?" Finn asked conversationally. He waited the appropriate length of time for a response and when Marceline just continued to stare sleepily into space he elbowed her in the ribs. She recoiled from him a lot harder than he'd expected; wow his gym sessions must be finally paying off, he was stronger than he realized. Or she had bruised ribs for some reason, probably tripped and fallen onto something again. His friend was notoriously clumsy.
"What?" Marceline snapped, fixing him with a pissed off frown.
"I was just asking if you'd checked out Professor Sugar yet. I looked her up on the faculty website because Jake said she's a serious piece of ass. Doctor of Medicine, Master's degree in robotics, she's Harvard alumni and used to teach at MIT. Plus Jake was right, she's one stone cold fox. Talk about a serous MILF. Tragic dresser though, her staff photo was some big pink gown or something. Bet she'd look better out of it than in-"
"Finn, shut the fuck up." Marcy told him lazily. She'd remembered that the woman from last night had been wearing pink too, pink lace panties under her catsuit and pink sheets on the bed in her apartment. But a lot of women liked pink, it wasn't like Marceline cared especially not when she was wrist deep in the other woman and there were screams of pleasure ringing in her ears.
The burn of the cane against her ass became all she could focus on, over and over again with just enough time between strikes to enjoy the heat of agony and feel her muscles convulse before another sharp blow connected and the waves of pleasure-pain grew maddeningly intense. She should have recognized what was about to happen but it was a totally different route to climax than anything she'd ever experienced before and by the time the first crest of intense orgasm broke over her it was too late to gasp a warning anyway; all she could do was writhe and scream as it overtook her senses and hope to god that Princess didn't stop caning her until she was completely spent.
"You think this professor is gonna show or what? If she doesn't get here in half an hour we can go, right? I heard that somewhere it's a law or something. Did you hear that?" Finn finally asked again, bored and fidgety.
"Don't know, don't care. Dude, I'm hungover as fuck and I barely slept. Let me die quietly." Marceline muttered back. She hadn't even had a drink at the club, not wanting to risk her fake ID being confiscated since the woman on the photo was a few skin shades paler than her and a couple of pounds heavier around her face. She wasn't lying about being tired though.
"You're such a fun sponge."
"Whatever, dilweed."
"Bitch."
"Fag balls."
Finn grinned and mimed sucking a dick. Marcy couldn't quite keep back her answering grin. They'd been friends since they were freshmen and always took at least one class together where she constantly mocked him and called him a fag and he constantly tried to hit on every girl in sight even though he never actually called them when he did succeed in getting a number. It was deflection and they both knew it but neither of them really wanted to address the issue. Finn, despite his constant lewd talk, was still figuring out that he was asexual and Marcy wouldn't do him any favors by forcing him to face it until he was ready. She shoved him playfully in his massive bicep before returning to vividly rerunning her memories from the night before.
"It's ok, you don't have to be embarrassed. I'd have been offended if I couldn't get you off just from spanking you. Hey, Nightwing? You ok?"
She tried to open her mouth and reply but all that happened was a goofy, lopsided grin plastered itself across her face. So this was what going into sub-space felt like? Yeah, Marceline could definitely go for that again. It was like floating, a little like being high but instead of marijuana fogging her brain it was nothing but pure endorphins that flooded her and allowed her to enjoy the soaring sensation with perfect clarity. She barely even felt it when Princess untied her arms and helped her to perch groggily on the side of the table.
"Here, you need water and a blanket. You're gonna get cold real quick once the adrenaline wears off." the leather-clad woman told her gently as she pressed a bottle into unresisting hands and produced a fleece from somewhere. When had Princess taken off her pants? Marceline hadn't noticed, she'd been too busy enjoying the brand new sensations of someone playing her enjoyment of pain so expertly. And as the other woman leaned around her to tuck the blanket more securely it felt just so natural to reach out, catch her chin and tow her into a deep kiss. Princess hesitated for a second before kissing back and in Marcy's euphoric state it was easily the best feeling of her entire life so far.
"I guess you enjoyed yourself then? You, uh, want to come back to my place?" Princess asked huskily when they finally broke apart. Marcy nodded, gods yes she wanted to follow the other woman home and do whatever she wanted. This was so much more than she'd expected from her first trip out onto the scene but she wasn't complaining. So with a little help from the other woman she stumbled back out of the corridor of private rooms and down to the club dance floor where a press of anonymous bodies in masks and PVC writhed to the throbbing music. Then out into the night and into the back of a sleek black car of some kind. Marceline wasn't really paying attention, she was still too breathless and high on endorphins. They pulled up outside a quiet, suburban apartment block and Princess was opening a door and helping her inside. Before they'd even made it as far as the bedroom hands were fumbling with zippers and eager teeth were grazing lips and skin.
This time it wasn't pure kink, this time it was much more overtly sexual and perhaps the neighbors were used to the hot single woman who lived opposite bringing home dreamy eyed college girls and making them scream themselves hoarse in her bedroom. Maybe they'd heard it so many times they didn't even bother knocking to ask her to keep it down, not even they heard someone screaming "BITE ME! HARDER!" or "Come for me, baby. One more time." It was only when the first grey threads of daylight were snaking into the eastern horizon that they fell quiet and slept. Marcy woke long before her playmate from the night before and slipped out silently. She'd find Princess again at next month's fetish night and maybe they'd have an intensely mind blowing fuck again or work each other's bodies in the playroom again while the ecstatic cries of couples in the private rooms on either side thickened the air and added to the delicious tension.
Finally the doors at the front of the room swung open to reveal Professor Sugar, the high achieving and brilliant anatomy professor who Finn made dirty jokes about and had a reputation as hot but a poor dresser. Marceline stared.
"Good morning, class. Please forgive my tardiness, I had an alarm clock malfunction. You could say my circadian rhythm is about as good as my tango, and I can't dance."
The professor paused, waiting for the laugh she apparently expected her poor joke to elicit, and when it didn't happen she simply shrugged and continued.
"So, for those of you who weren't in my class last year I'm Professor Sugar, welcome to Anatomy. Let's just jump right in, this semester we'll be covering the central and peripheral nervous systems. Who can tell me if the autonomic nervous system is part of the CNS or the PNS? It was part of your pre-course reading this summer. Yes, Mr Muscular Blond at the back?"
"Uh, the, uh, central nervous system?" Finn hazarded. He was torn by confusion, unsure if he should answer his professor or bend down to the floor where Marceline had just flung herself with a sudden expression of panic on her face. He didn't even hear the professor correct him, he was too busy bending down to his friend.
"Marcy, what's up with you?" Finn hissed.
"I- can't-. fucking, dude I can't! I don't feel well, I have to go. Take notes for me." she replied in a quiet rush before half crawling up the steps and out of the door of the auditorium, all the time with last night's bruises screaming in protest and the woman who'd inflicted them on her and left her breathless and euphoric innocently taught her stupid anatomy class behind her. Princess was Professor Sugar; no wonder she didn't want anyone using her real name on the scene. Marceline went home and skipped all her classes that day, instead spending time in a long hot shower trying to forget the way her anatomy professor looked up into her eyes while making her writhe and scream with her incredible mouth. Oh God, she wanted to forget so hard but it even now the delicious ache from her still throbbing bruises made it impossible to think of anything else.
