Fantasies of a Young Dominatrix - Sex Stories

Fantasies of a Young Dominatrix

... unobtainable.

That's what I did for my imaginary afternoon with Paul. Instead of sitting behind my desk, I was in a chair in front of it. My left foot was up on a little table, and a fine view was offered all the way up to my crotch. Said crotch was covered by a pair of almost transparent white panties.

As a final touch, my headgear was the traditional academic mortarboard hat. Of course, it was ridiculous to have that on in my office, but it was my fantasy and I could arrange everything to my liking. That look was common in BDSM porn photos I had seen.

There was a knocking on my office door, and I said, "It's not locked. Just come in."

Paul, a sophomore, entered the room, looking a bit nervous. I knew why; his final paper for the semester was already three days late.

I imagined him as he was at the age of twenty. That was when he was my lover for a few months in 1974. He was a slender guy, not that tall, but he had nice dark eyes and hair. During that summer he hadn't yet grown the mustache that he sported starting in 1976. His hair was a bit bushy, but in my imagination, it was cut back from his most extreme appearance when he would have it sticking out in all directions. It was quite uncommon for American university students, but he was wearing a tie and a blue sports coat. Perhaps I had been influenced by images of English boarding schools where the students had to dress like that for all occasions.

That brings up a question: as a professor, how old was ...

... I supposed to be in this scene? I never pinned my age exactly, but I must have been in my early thirties. Yet I looked pretty much as I do now at the age of twenty-one. Like dreams, fantasies can have such incongruous elements in them.

As I mentioned, I had my legs spread out and one foot on a coffee table or something similar. That position offered Paul a fine view right under my skirt, past the straps and garter, to the crotch of my panties. That garment had gossamer-thin cloth and my pubic hair was visible through it.

When Paul walked into the room, I could tell he was trying to avoid looking at those delectable feminine undergarments. Yet I saw his eyes briefly flick down to notice what was under my dress. Any man would have done the same thing, but I rebuked him for it.

"Young man, kindly keep your eyes to yourself. Do not try to peer up under my dress."

In the real world, he would have been justified in saying,If you don't want me to look, then don't display yourself like that. In this scenario, however, I had full authority over him and I could do whatever I wanted.

Thus he replied, "Yes, ma'am, I'm sorry about that." I hadn't invited him to sit down, so he remained standing there with his hands folded in front of himself.

I sighed heavily and put my left foot down on the floor. There was no point in inflaming his lust anymore just to humiliate him. He'd be getting plenty of humiliation from me shortly. I leaned forward a bit and said, "So, D'Amato, I ...