The Value of a College Education

As a teacher, I always stress the importance of higher education. After all, it wasn't until I hit college that I was introduced to the magical world of S&M.

Early one afternoon, I heard some titillating noises coming from my roommate's bedroom—a curious symphony of chains rattling, heavy breathing, odd slapping sounds, and soft moaning. I wasn't sure if I should be afraid for her, but I was becoming strangely aroused. I decided to open my door a crack to ascertain if she was in any real danger.

The noises had stopped. My curiosity getting the better of me, I slowly crept down the hall and stood before her bedroom door. What seemed like an infinite amount of time passed. I heard nothing and began to head back to my own room. At that very moment, there was a loud zap, followed by some groaning. I jumped and let out a gasp. Then suddenly the bedroom door flew open.

Before my eyes stood the most bewitching woman I had ever seen. Her hair was straight and black, and her eyes were green with flecks of gold. Her full lips were stained a deep merlot. She was wearing a black leather cape lined in purple satin over a matching purple corset that cinched up her full breasts. Her fetishistic ensemble was completed by black seamed stockings and black satin high heels. In her left hand was what I later learned to be a violet wand. The item in her right hand, a black leather horsewhip, was immediately identifiable.

Most shocking of all, my roommate, Brigitte, was attached to the very high heel of this siren's stiletto pump by a metal leash. She was on all fours, wearing nothing but a purple leather collar and a startling red ass. She never even raised her head.

I felt a sympathetic rush of blood to my cheeks—poor Brigitte must be so humiliated! Why else wouldn't she look up at me? This woman ordered my roommate to make the proper introductions. Her head still down, she said, "Mistress Claire, this is Haley."

"Your friend is one of My most valuable and submissive pets," the Mistress said. She then walked over to me, tilted her chin up slightly, and said, "I can smell that you could be of service also."

"I'm sorry, Claire," I defiantly replied, "but I would much rather be in your position."

She began laughing and smiled at me. "You have to train to attain this dominant position, chérie. A Domme is born but also made. If you are truly interested, My little slave girl here will give you My telephone number. And if I find you to be a prodigy, perhaps I will adopt you as My protégée . . . Now back to your room! I have business to conduct," she commanded. Gesturing to the violet wand, she continued, "Did the clever student girl catch My electrical pun? It was definitely intentional," as the door closed firmly behind her.

Back in my bedroom, I stood listening at my closed door for the provocative sounds of their sexual war games. My back against the door, I quietly masturbated to release some of my excitement. I had the eerily erotic sense that the Dominatrix could smell my pussy from all the way down the hall. My orgasm coincided with the slam of the front door as our exotic visitor exited.

Immediately, there was a knock at my door. My roommate, still on all fours, appeared, holding a business card in her mouth, delicately clenched between her little white teeth. I could not contain my smile as I gently extricated the card from her rouged mouth. Written in purple ink reminiscent of freshly drawn blood were the Mistress's telephone number and the address of her dungeon. The next day began my training as a Domina.


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