Professor Mistress Ch 10

Back by popular demand and request!! I never intended this story to be this long, but I'm glad people are enjoying this. My intention was to get feedback on my writing style for a fiction novel I will have completed by the end of 2021. So feedback, critique, and requests are welcome!! This is the sad, dark, long, chapter with elements of non consent and BDSM but a HEA. I do not condone the acts in this chapter, however they are meant to demonstrate what is and is not consent in the eyes of the law regarding sexual relations as they are played out in the context of the characters.

I have plans for one more final chapter that will contain a lot more steamy BDSM sex and a lot of legal jargon.

As the months dragged on until the results of my BAR came back, I would like to say that Browning and I grew closer, but it seemed to only turn into a routine where we didn't have time or energy to see each other. We barely even had sex for those few months. I was focused on learning as much as I could from the law firm, but the nagging distance between us was wreaking havoc on my mental health. We had both confessed our love to each other, and I thought those confessions were real, but I was beginning to think she had grown dull with me. Maybe I wasn't the kind of adventurous companion she truly needed, and deserved.

I tried to throw my emotional distress into learning everything from Browning, and even at times, Shawna as well. I was limited in what I could do, because of the waiting BAR results, but they were gracious in coaching and indulging my opinions. Even so far as to letting me sit in with new clients and look over case notes about potential clients. But there was still a clear disparage in the younger associates towards me. I could tell they all knew about my relationship with Browning, and some of them went out of their way to show their discontent for it. I ignored the subtle pokes and leary glances at the office. I understood why Browning didn't even make her position clear, but I wanted her to.

I split my nights between my apartment and Browning's different suites and penthouses. However, she was usually not there when I fell asleep, and was getting ready when I awoke. It was breaking my heart even when she kissed me before leaving. The distance was killing me and I was starting to think I had made the mistake I originally thought I made when I walked into the club under construction. I wanted to trust her, I wanted to know that she had told me she loved me because she meant it. But I wasn't feeling it anymore, and I didn't know what was real or not anymore. What if she had manipulated me this whole time to win over the law firm from Dean? What if I was just another pawn to her growing need for power?

I wanted some time off when the results would be mailed to me. I was anticipating it to be good news and call for a celebration. I had to ask Browning for the time off, and I was worried as the time got closer to the date. She was ahead of me however, when she called me into her office two weeks before the results would be released.

"Please sit down," she gestured to the chair opposite her desk in a professional manner that boiled my blood. I sat and crossed my legs, not sure how to approach this more professional side of Browning when all I wanted was to be in her arms and wipe the lines of stress from her eyes.

"I'm sorry, this has only recently come to my attention," I was waiting for the ball to drop. She was going to break up with me, she was going to fire me, she was going to send me away. This was it.

"I'm going to pay for your apartment for the next year, and whatever other expenses you need until you get on your feet," the tears came from my eyes now as I tried to wrap my head around what she was saying. I couldn't hear all of the words that came out of her mouth as I fell back into myself. I didn't even have the BAR results yet, I was supposed to get them in two weeks. Was she telling me that the results didn't matter? Was she giving up on me? On my career? Did she regret meeting me, mentoring me? Did she even love me?

She didn't even give me a chance to respond as Shawna came in and ushered me out with a cardboard box of my things. I couldn't even look at Browning as the tears streamed down my face. I didn't mistake the glances of approval from the coworkers as I stumbled through the reality of my situation.

When I passed the threshold to the doorway of the building I froze. I didn't even realize that Shawna was hugging me as I dropped all my things on the sidewalk.

"You know she loves you right?" When her presence registered, everything hit me in multitude. I shoved her away hard enough that she fell backwards and I took off on the sidewalk. Obviously she didn't understand what love was. I didn't even think about all the things I left strewn on the sidewalk, they would only be reminders to how useless and naïve I had become.

I don't remember getting to my apartment as I stumbled onto my bed and let the devastation hit me. I must have cried for a few days, time didn't mean anything and I didn't even care that I missed several shifts at the club. I couldn't go back there even if I wanted to. Browning was clear that she wanted nothing to do with me. She had used me like the formerly named firm had used my mother.

I barely kept myself eating enough to not wither away, but I knew I had lost weight. I ordered food a few times, but over the course of the next few days, and eventual week, it was starting to take a toll on me. I didn't care that someone was banging on my door as it took a few minutes before I even registered the sound as something different than the throbbing in my head. I finally cracked the door, still keeping the chain locked in place.

"Jessica Worthing?" The man was professional and seemed disaffected with his disturbance of my self wallowing. I barely nodded.

"I need a signature," he thrust a clipboard towards the crack in the door. I grasped it and scribbled wanting him to leave me alone quicker than I cared what his purpose here was. He then handed me a thick manila folder as I shoved the door closed.

I threw the packet on the counter not caring what it was. It didn't matter, nothing mattered if Browning had been manipulating this entire time. If it wasn't for the history of my mother's death, I probably would have followed in her footsteps, but not killing myself was the only thing I could give my dead mother now. I obviously couldn't give her death retribution by being a lawyer now.

A few days passed through some blinding dreams and alcohol fueled blackouts. If all I got from Browning was paid rent for a year, I was going to take advantage of that. Clearly she was not invested in anything outside of satiating her guilt over using me. And I knew part of that situation was something that I had subconsciously participated in. If only for the sexual awakening that she gave me, I still couldn't regret knowing her, and that only made me hate myself more for letting my mother down.

I knew I needed to do something to get out of this head space. And I didn't care if it was reckless or not. I dressed myself, battling the tears of despair, I managed to put some makeup on without letting the desperation seep into my efforts. Obviously I couldn't go to the club I used to work at, but that wasn't stopping me from going to another sex club in the area. Hopeful for a release of any kind, I would even take a cringe gangbang at this point. I would even submit to a man for any kind of orgasm. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone right?

I adorned a navy blue clutch where I threw my phone and keys. I wore a dark red dress, it had an opened back and a deep v-line. No bra or panties obviously. Maybe I could get some stranger to finger me at the bar and forget my terrible life for a few seconds.

I decided to walk instead of taking a cab, hoping the time in my steep black heels would calm my convictions slightly. As I approached the door to the club, there was a typical NDA that I was prepared for. I quickly signed without even reading the words. It was obvious what would be entailed, confidentiality of patrons, consent or participants, and general behavioral expectations.

I went straight to the bar and ordered a pricey mixed drink on the card that I knew Browning would compensate for. I wanted her to pay for all of my troubles, even if no dollar amount would suffice the transgressions she had thrust upon me, I was going to take advantage of them all. If she was only a blank check for my sexual relation with her, then I was fine being pimped out on her dime.

I glanced around at the area, it seemed to take notes from the club I took part in, or maybe it was the other way around. It didn't matter as I rotated in my bar stool to take in the stage as the lights dimmed for a show. Nothing could have prepared me for seeing Dean come out as the ringleader of the show. I motioned for another drink and took solace in the burning liquid as I focused on the reality that Dean was not cowering somewhere with his tail between his legs, but thriving with a willing audience. And the atmosphere was contagious when paired with the alcohol I was downing too excitedly.

As Dean took the stage and announced something like an auction taking place, someone sat beside me. I didn't take too much notice until he placed a hand on my thigh, "I haven't seen you around here before love, first time?" He was good looking enough, even if I didn't take to men like I did to women. I smiled at him sheepishly. His strong muscular chin and rippling muscles under his dress shirt that was outlined by a loose tie did give me a sense of power that I so desperately wanted to submit to.

"First time here, sure, first time," I ran my gaze up and down his muscular form, "mistaken." I wanted to exert the power over him that I so desperately wanted someone to take over me. I wanted someone to take me like Browning had, but I had low hopes that any man or woman would be able to jump that bar anymore. But it wasn't going to stop me from trying.

He clutched my thigh tighter and I leaned towards him until Dean commanded the attention of everyone.

"It seems we have a special guest here tonight," the crowd cheered now at the assessment as this stranger leaned into me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"Obviously, this is going to be an auction of precedence," I was curious what he was hinting at now as this stranger nuzzled my neck. It was hard not to compare his affection to Browning, but that was why I was here, right? Trying to rid my associations of affection with Browning alone. Suddenly, the spotlights highlighted me and my stranger as I became nervous now, and ashamed that I was melting into a stranger. Not enough to push him away, only enough to realize the same tingling of warning that hit me when I left the club with a stranger before was resonating now through me. But there was no Browning to save me now, and I wasn't even sure if I wanted her to save me anymore. As Dean gestured towards me under the spotlight, the man stroking my thigh backed up a little.

"We have been waiting for you Jessica," his words rattled a warning in my brain, but I was frozen to the stool.

"Let's all welcome our deceptive insurgent and willing slut to the stage, Jessica Worthing," his declaration was met with a loud applause and woops of excitement. I didn't have time to react as a couple bodyguards grasped me on the arms and pulled me towards the stage. I wanted to panic, but I wanted to forget everything in the throes of submission even more. I struggled a little against the bodyguards more for show than for disagreement.

When I was finally dragged fully on stage, they presented me to Dean as a piece of art, not a human anymore, a vessel for show. And I wanted nothing more than to be objectified in that moment. I couldn't help myself from growing wet just at the motions of being on stage again with a lustful admiration. If all I could fulfill was an object for sexual gratification, I was more than a willing participant, hoping that it would silence my mind in over stimulation.

Dean grasped my cheek harshly, the expression of disgust and hate churned my insides as much as they aroused me. "I have been waiting for this moment," he growled into my ear as the guards still clutched my arms towards me.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I shivered away from his loss of contact as he addressed the audience now.

"We have a very special auction in which we will allow the host," he pointed at himself with wiggling fingers, "to also participate." The crowd went wild now at the prospect of betting against the house. My core tingled at the thought of people competing for my submission. This was what I wanted right? To be fought over, to be lusted over, to be taken. Dean started talking about dollar amounts and time periods as he seemed to let the crowds cheering dictate how long I would be up for grabs and how lucky they all were to be here for this moment.

I couldn't quite make out all the words between himself and the crowd even with his voice amplified by the microphone. I was distracted now as the two men holding me started to tie me up. They led me to a large x cross that was almost center stage. I didn't even protest as they lifted my hands above my head and tied them, not cuffed them, tied them tightly to the posts. I gasped at the harshness but couldn't stop from getting more aroused. The ties seemed too tight. My attempts to tell them were cut off when my legs were pulled off the ground and strapped to a spreader bar. The weight of my body against the ropes on my wrists was painful now, and not arousing.

"Wait, please, that's too tight, can you just-" I was cut off when one of the men thrust his fingers deep into my mouth, almost gagging me. He stroked my tongue then pulled his hand away and wiped my spit all over my face. The other man was ready to keep me silent as he pushed a gag into my open mouth. This gag was different from what I was used to. It was metallic and circular, leaving my mouth wide open for anything they wanted to put inside. I shuddered at the implication of being an air tight slut on display.

"As you can see, this prize piece tonight is a very naughty slut who needs to be punished by the highest bidder," his gaze was menacing and laced with anticipation. "But of course she is willing to show all of her skills." The crowd roared with approval and I knew my wetness was dripping down my thighs without the barrier of panties.

The guards didn't need any more encouragement as they both knelt down and started unstrapping my heels. Before they could toss them aside, Dean strode over and if looks could kill, I would be a goner. He grabbed one and inspected it in the light for drama. He thrust the heel into my open mouth and spread it around inside, the bottom of it scratching my tongue and gums as it was covered in uncontrollable saliva.

He then stood back a little and nodded to the guards. They both came at me fast now and pulled my dress hard. It hurt as the pressure pulled me towards them and I felt the ropes digging into my wrists and ankles with a pain I did not like. I tried to muffle out protests as the material dug into my skin before tearing audibly. I was now tied naked and dripping wet from the crowds cheers.

He roughly shoved my thighs further apart, although they were already spread so far, he was making a point. I felt the two men wrap more rope around my knees and pull them up and away from my body. The release of weight against my wrists was welcoming, until I was practically doing the splits. He rubbed the heel of my shoe against my pussy, it was sharp and hurt as I gasped more. He thrust it inside me now and it slid in without protest. While leaning into my face, he grasped my neck harshly and gritted his teeth. Without warning, he pushed it as high as it would go into me then roughly pulled it horizontally towards him. My body arched and I groaned at the sensation.

He shoved three fingers into my mouth as he thrashed the heel around my insides. Without being able to breath in a solid pattern, my orgasm came swift and hard as I tried to clench my legs back together. The ropes in my wrist dug in more now and my fingers were starting to grow numb. If it weren't for the toe curling orgasm, I was certain I wouldn't be able to feel them either. Although it felt nice to finally let go, it wasn't the same as with Browning at all. In fact, this time, I felt dirty. I felt abused. I wanted to get out of this now, but it was becoming clear, I was a slave now. And I was becoming more ok with being a slave than being left to my own devices.

"Well that is the first of many ladies and gentlemen," he slid the heel out slowly and I knew it was sopping wet from my insides. I missed the pressure immediately even as my wrists were screaming for release and my legs were promising I wouldn't be able to walk when they were released.

"And now for another special little treat, our other woman undercover herself," I was trying to comprehend what he was saying, but it was hard to focus on anything but the losing circulation in my limbs.

"Shawna Rilet!" I knew then, whatever was about to happen, I deserved. No, I craved the punishment now. If Shawna had been working with Dean this whole time, I deserved to be punished for being so gullible. Of course no one wanted me for anything other than to use me. And I know it now too. I even felt it to be right. I should have known Browning was just experienced and not really interested in having anything meaningful with me, even if she did love me. She loved me on her terms, and her terms were not love for me, but of me. Even as the realizations came full circle, there was a tiny pang of sadness for Browning, Shawna was all she had, emphasis on had.

Of course Shawna was as stunning and professional as ever. She was wearing a deep purple corset that lifted her breasts expertly in the black outlines. Her long skin tight leather pants were red hot and left nothing to the imagination. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun with a red ribbon that seemed to exude little effort, but perfection at the same time. I was eager to submit myself to their demeaning actions now. But one small part of me wished I could tell Browning. Did she know about Shawna? That would destroy her for sure. It seemed as if they had a true bond, and likely Browning's only real friend. But I guess Browning never really let anyone in unless she was using them.

Shawna was handed a whip and I couldn't wait to feel the stinging slaps of it anywhere she wanted it to go. I needed to feel as bad as I thought I was. She spent time whipping each of my nipples as I drooled into the open gag through moans of submission. Each hit caused my body to jerk against all the ropes that were digging into me. Then I felt my ankles release for a moment only to be pulled straight up, fully displaying my soaking wet entrance for everyone. This new position put more strain on my wrists and I tried to wiggle some relief into them.

All thoughts left my brain when she whipped expertly right onto my poking out clit. I thrashed and screamed as another orgasm took me. She giggled wildly amidst the crowd's approval and continued striking my clit. I lost track of the times I orgasmed, willing the pain to settle in and hug me like the worthless slut I now embraced being. At least my future was full of orgasms.

"Well ladies and gentleman, shall we start some soft bidding?" Dean was taking this all in perfect stride as if I was the Mona Lisa up for grabs. Numbers were tossed out in amounts I couldn't fathom as Shawna adorned a long, thick, strap on over her pants. My legs were lifted away from the cross, still pulled out wide as she slipped underneath me. The tugging on my wrists almost didn't register anymore. I was angled with my pussy closest to the audience as Shawna clutched my neck from behind and sneered into my ears.