Forced Series Box Set (Forced 1-5)

I let go of her hair, keeping my hand at her neck, and slid my other hand down to her clit. I circled the hard nub before stroking and flicking it along with my pumps into her. She moaned low in her throat, the sound vibrating against my fingers pressed tightly against her skin. I took the wetness from her pussy and brought my hand to her ass. I coated her asshole with her own sweet cream and pushed a knuckle inside. I pushed further inside her as I felt her slippery walls tightening around my cock. I began to twist my knuckle, running it along all the sensitive skin around her asshole as she writhed beneath me, pushing back into my strokes and driving me more deeply inside her.

“Ready for your discipline, Ms. Finnegan? Ready to take it all?”

When she didn’t answer, I plunged into her even more viciously.

“Yes, professor.” Her voice barely made it past my fingers.

“Good, Ms. Finnegan.”

I removed my hand from her ass and went back to her clit, stroking it furiously as I fucked her. She seized beneath me and arched her back as her pussy sucked my cock in farther. I took my hand from her throat and clamped it over her mouth to cover her screams as she came. She cried against the palm of my hand as her pussy constricted me tighter and tighter until it squeezed out my release. My cock kicked inside her, spurting hot jets of cum and coating her sweet pussy with my seed. She took every drop I had to offer, her walls still milking me as she cried into my palm.

It was all I could do not to yell at the feeling of finally disciplining Ms. Finnegan.

Chapter Four

Zoey Finnegan

I cleaned myself up, showered, and threw myself onto my bed. I lay under the lazy ceiling fan, naked and hot. Flashes of Professor Stevens played through my mind. I rubbed my wrists remembering the fabric from his tie binding me. The look in his eye as he told me he would “discipline” me. I let a hand trace down to my clit, still slightly buzzed from his earlier attentions.

I began to stroke myself, remembering the sounds of him pounding into me.

My doorbell rang.

I jumped up and pulled a robe out of the closet, throwing it on as I walked down the hallway of my spacious apartment.

I lived in one of the nicest places in town and was likely the only student in the high-priced complex. I had no money to speak of, but I certainly had friends, and one in particular.

I looked through the peephole and cursed under my breath.

“I know you’re in there, Zoey. Let me in.” I recognized Mrs. Stevens, Professor Stevens’ wife.

Shit.

I swung the door open. “Hi, Mrs. Stevens.”

Mrs. Stevens strolled in and dropped her bag, worth more than my car, on the sofa. She wore a tight sheath dress in emerald green. Her brown hair was long and flowing, and her olive skin set off her hazel eyes perfectly. She was thirty at most, Professor Steven’s younger bride. She looked like money. Perfectly curated money.

“Any news for me Zoey?” she asked as her eyes roved my body, as if she could see under my robe.

“Yes and no.”

She motioned to the sofa. I sat and she eased down next to me. She was so close I could smell her pricey perfume. Her luminous eyes were beautiful and catlike.

“Well, spill,” she said and patted my bare knee that showed through my robe. She left her hand there.

“I kept doing what you’d told me to. I was late, didn’t do my homework, all that. And then earlier today I was really late and didn’t wear any panties.”

She smiled. “That would certainly do the trick.”

“It did. But there was a problem.”

Her hand tightened on my knee. “And what was that?”

“He whipped me and fucked me just like you said. But he did it in the classroom, not his office. So it wasn’t recorded.” I hated to disappoint her, especially after she’d gotten me this nice apartment and promised me a new car if I got Professor Stevens out of her way.

“Fuck!” Her eyes flashed.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Stevens.”

She regained her composure. “Well, you certainly tried. And you can do it again, right?” She began rubbing circles on my thigh, making me hot all over again.

“I can. He actually made me a deal.”

“Did he now?” Her circles edged higher and higher. She reached over and pulled the sash loose so that my robe fell open. I let her. She licked her lips as her eyes strayed to my tits and then lower. “What were his terms?”

“He gave me fewer lashes if I gave him ownership of my pussy.”

Her gazed focused on my cleft, and she pushed my knees apart. “Did you take the deal?”