Slave Girls of Alpha Beta Delta, Chapter 54

As they walked across campus Miss White thought back to her meeting with Dean Wilkins the previous Monday. She had gotten the impression that the Dean was fully aware of her relationship with Jodie — which, though undefined, was certainly intimate. But how could that be? Clearly the Dean had ways of finding things out; all the more reason to get this whole thing settled once and for all.

Could the Dean’s source of information be Jodie herself? It seemed unlikely; Miss White felt tremendous confidence in Jodie’s loyalty. But even so....

She was considering broaching the subject when they arrived at the Dean’s front door. Miss White tabled her curiosity and tried to get herself in the right mindset for what was about to come. She took a long, slow, deep breath and rang the doorbell.

Almost immediately the door swung open. The foyer inside was dim, the only light a faint orange glow that seemed to be coming from a great distance. Both Jodie and Miss White felt a prickle of foreboding, but the air coming from inside was nice and warm, while the outside temperature was below freezing. They stepped inside and closed the door behind them.

Miss White caught just a glimpse of the Dean out of the corner of her eye — ebony skin, long dark hair, the gleam of leather, or was it rubber? — before a blindfold came down over her eyes. She fought the urge to resist, reminding herself why she was there.

The Dean went quickly to work and within a minute Miss White stood there naked, feeling all the more exposed for being unable to see herself. She felt her hands being pulled together in front of her and bound; a collar was fitted around her neck, then a ball gag was forced into her mouth. The Dean untied Miss White’s raven hair, letting it fall in coils around her shoulders, then as the finishing touch snapped a pair of clamps onto her nipples.

Jodie, for her part, was treated as something as an afterthought. The Dean offhandedly ordered her to strip and she obeyed, hands shaking a little with nerves as she removed her coat, shoes, blouse, skirt, bra, and panties. In the meantime the Dean made Miss White kneel, clipped a long leather leash to her collar, then pushed her down onto her hands and knees.

Taking Jodie by the arm, the Dean led her into the drawing room. When the leash pulled tight Miss White felt the pressure on her neck and started crawling in the direction indicated. She moved somewhat awkwardly with her hands tied, but was able to make decent progress.

Looking behind her, Jodie beheld at an entirely novel sight: Alexis White bound and crawling. This was unprecedented, unnatural. She felt both the wrongness of it and a powerful thrill at being privileged to witness this singular marvel.

As they proceeded through the drawing room the light grew gradually brighter; the orange glow was emanating from the open door at the opposite end, which led to the living room. Inside a huge fire was roaring in the fireplace, with additional illumination provided by candles in wall sconces. The Dean released Jodie and led Miss White to a corner where a pair of chains were attached to the wall. Each one terminated in an ankle cuff, which the Dean now used to shackle Miss White’s legs.

Once Miss White was securely chained the Dean reached down and pulled off her blindfold. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light, trying to keep her expression calm and neutral, though her heart was pounding in her chest. The Dean looked like some kind of valkyrie, dressed in a skintight one-piece vinyl dress that revealed most of her muscular thighs and substantial cleavage. She was a magnificent sight and Miss White felt a sudden rush of blood to her pussy and nipples, which throbbed under the constricting clamps.

Lifting Miss White’s chin, the Dean gazed imperiously down into her eyes, sending an exquisite chill down the bound woman’s spine. Just the barest hint of a smile curled one corner of the Dean’s mouth as she turned on her heel and walked back over to where Jodie was waiting.

Jodie soon found herself on her knees, hands tied before her, looking up meekly at the towering figure of Dean Wilkins. Submission came easily to her, unlike Miss White. Her mind was clear of any resistance or defiance; she simply surrendered herself unquestionably to the will of the more powerful woman.

For the first time the Dean spoke. Staring coolly into Jodie’s eyes, she said, “I must say, I’ve found your disloyalty... disappointing.” Her hand reached out to a nearby table, where a collection of instruments of punishment was arrayed in neat rows. She picked up a riding crop, slipped the loop around her wrist, and gently traced the leather tip across Jodie’s face.

With a blindingly quick wrist motion the Dean pulled back the crop and slapped Jodie across the cheek. The blow was not hard but took her by surprise. She wobbled a little on her knees as the pain glowed briefly on her face, then subsided.

A matching slap on the other cheek followed, after which the Dean paused to consider with the crop dangling from her wrist. Coming finally to a decision, she took a few minutes to arrange Jodie just the way she wanted. When she was finished Jodie was laying on her side on the plush Oriental rug in the middle of the room. Her arms were lifted up over her head and tied off to a rope leading to the wall, and her left leg — the top one — was being held up by a line running to the ceiling. In this position she was not terribly uncomfortable, but quite helpless and splayed wide open.

Miss White could do nothing but watch as the Dean toyed with Jodie for an extended period of time — sometimes punishing her with blows to the butt, legs, back, breasts, and vulva; sometimes using the tip of the crop to gently caress her, stimulating her nipples, thighs, and pussy. Jodie moaned sometimes in pain, sometimes in pleasure, sometimes in both together; after awhile there was little difference between the two.

By this time the fire was beginning to die down, so the Dean put the crop down and went to add more wood. Upon returning, she gazed down serenely at Jodie’s bound, naked figure and shifted her stance. Balancing on her left leg, she slowly raised her right up to Jodie’s crotch, then penetrated the younger woman with the pointy toe of her black boot.

Jodie moaned again, this time louder and deeper, the sound surfacing from her diaphragm. The Dean pushed the boot deeper inside, fucking Jodie with it for a minute, then replaced it with the other one. When she was done the toe ends of both boots were thoroughly coated with Jodie’s juices.

The Dean now released Jodie’s legs, rolled her over onto her stomach, and instructed her to lick the boots clean. Jodie obeyed unhesitatingly, her pussy pulsating as she tasted her own nectar mingled with the tang of leather. Once the Dean was satisfied with Jodie’s work, she lifted the bottom of her dress to reveal a short but unusually thick strap-on.

The Dean took hold of Jodie’s head and guided it toward her crotch. Jodie didn’t need to be told what was expected of her. She extended her tongue and ran it up and down the shaft, then closed her mouth over the tip. As the Dean gripped her head and pushed in deeper, Jodie stretched her mouth to accommodate the girth, which increased toward the base.

As she sucked Jodie wondered how that thing would feel inside her, and she didn’t have to wait long to find out. The Dean abruptly pulled out, spun her around, bent her over, and drove the dildo home. The impact caused Jodie’s glasses to slide off and fall to the floor, but she didn’t notice, and her eyes were closed anyway as the Dean began to fuck her with short, decisive strokes.

Miss White could feel the fluid running down her thighs as she watched. She desperately wanted to somehow be involved in the action, but obviously the Dean intended to make her wait. Tortured by desire, she kept trying to look away but couldn’t.

With the Dean’s skillful hands working beneath her — cupping and squeezing her tits, brushing and stroking her inflamed clit — Jodie climaxed once, twice, three times. The last time she came so hard that she passed out briefly.

When she regained consciousness, she was looking straight at the Dean, who was sitting on a tall, ornate chair that appeared — from this vantage point, at least — to be a throne. The strap-on was gone and the Dean had her legs spread, revealing smooth, well-muscled thighs and dark brown pussy lips. She had pulled down the front of her dress, allowing her superlative breasts to spill out.

Seeing Jodie’s eyes open, the Dean extended one index finger and gestured for her to approach. Jodie knee-walked over, salivating slightly as took in the full magnificence of the Dean’s amply proportioned body. In the time she’d been Jodie’s boss Dean Wilkins had always seemed so dignified and remote, but now here she was, fully on display, calling Jodie closer.

When Jodie was near enough the Dean leaned down and kissed her on the lips. It was an authoritative, overwhelming kiss, and Jodie felt herself go weak; fortunately she was already on her knees. She leaned into the Dean for support and next thing she knew her face was sinking into the older woman’s cleavage, the supple flesh of the Dean’s breasts warm against her face.

Miss White looked on jealously as Jodie feasted on the Dean’s bosoms, sucking hungrily on the thick nipples, stretching her mouth wide to take in huge mouthfuls of mammary gland. She would gladly have stayed there indefinitely, gobbling tit like a happy baby, but the sudden pressure of the Dean’s hands on her shoulders told her it was time to go lower. She now found herself crouched between the Dean’s legs gazing at the chocolate-brown skin, the nest of black bush, the puckered mahogany lips, and the thin vertical strip of pink visible between them.

Jodie approached respectfully, kissing and licking the Dean’s knees and inner thighs, inhaling the musky aroma as she moved gradually toward its source. Finally she stuck out her tongue and took a gentle lick of pussy. The Dean spasmed visibly, and Jodie felt warmly proud that she had been the cause of such a reaction. She probed in further, parting the Dean’s cunt lips with her tongue, and taking a big eager slurp of the juice gushing from between them.

When the Dean moaned it was a great pulsing vibration, like the purring of a big cat. Jodie extended her tongue as far as it would go and pressed her face forward, trying to find the deepest place inside the Dean that she could get to. For a moment she felt like her whole head was going to disappear inside the soft, wet crevice; suddenly she was short of breath and tried to pull back, but found her head gripped firmly between the Dean’s thighs. Jodie could do nothing but carry on until at last the Dean orgasmed, grinding her clit on the bridge of Jodie’s nose, and loosened her grip so Jodie could lift her head and breathe.

It took a little bit for the Dean to recover herself, but when she did she looked Jodie calmly and evenly in the eye and growled, “Carry on.” This time Jodie took the direct approach, sucking the Dean’s clit into her mouth; in this position pubic hair tickled her nose, but at least she could breathe. The Dean soon came again, this time quite violently, filling Jodie’s mouth with a spurt of sticky liquid. She crushed Jodie’s head between her thighs so tightly that for a moment Jodie thought her skull was going to burst.

But when the Dean released her Jodie felt elated. The look on the Dean’s face told her she had met the older woman’s challenge and proved herself worthy. She peered over at Alexis White, kneeling naked in a corner with her legs chained to the wall, eyes blazing out of the shadows. Their gazes locked and Jodie studied Miss White’s eyes for a few long seconds. There was no anger there, but a passion deep and complex, a fury that Jodie both loved and feared.

Jodie’s attention was returned to the Dean by the smack of a riding crop across her right cheek. But the Dean’s expression was indulgent, almost affectionate, and her face was luminous with bliss. She moved her hand in a gesture of blessing and said to Jodie, “All your sins are forgiven.”

Lifting herself off the chair with her hands, the Dean swiveled theatrically and stared imperiously into Alexis White’s flashing eyes.

“Now,” she said. “What shall we do with you?”

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