Hot Flash!: My Tutor, My Master

Day One

I can’t believe my luck!  First of all, I get the best professor for my Medical Administration class, and then I get an offer for Professor Clausen to tutor me!  It’s only the second week of class, and already I can tell this is going to be pretty tough.  I know, the stereotype is that a girl like me, pretty by most standards, I guess, is just there to help the doctor, always a man.  I’ve spent my first twenty years being told how beautiful I am, which is nice, but it doesn’t do much for me.  It’s great to be able to date whomever you like, but I’m more focused on school.  I don’t want to be some nurse in a tidy white uniform dampening the doctor’s brow during surgery, I want to be the doctor, the one who saves lives, and not the one who stands beside some old man whose saving lives.  Every extracurricular activity I signed up for in high school and all the long hours studying for the SAT and SCT, and here I am at Austinville University, one of the preeminent surgical colleges in the state, if not the whole country.  No silly boyfriends to hold me back, no pedestrian relationships to keep me from achieving my goals.

Doctor Clausen is maybe the most-published educator working in the medical field today, exploring far beyond the scope of his classes into all sorts of new treatments.  It was only today that I worked up the nerve to approach his desk at the bottom of the stadium-style lecture hall, one I shared with fifty or more other students, and asked him about his most recent article.  It was unusual, even for Dr. Clausen, a piece that concentrated on mind-over-matter sorts of things.  It all sounded a bit witch doctor-y to me, but it made for a good excuse to finally talk to him.

He’s small, maybe five-and-a-half feet, with wispy white hair combed over his bald pate.  His eyes are bright and hazel and he moved with a nervous energy I associated with being both intelligent and manic.  He was cramming his lecture notes in a scuffed attache when I approached, and he locked eyes with mine as soon as I’d come to a stop in front of his desk, the tall and wide dry erase boards behind him creating a white vista.  His eyebrows were darker, and the look he gave me was appreciative, but I couldn’t escape the feeling that I was a butterfly pinned in a display case.  It was a look of detached curiosity.  I hadn’t planned it this way, but the sweater I wore was low-cut, giving him a little peak of cleavage, and my jeans were fashionably tight.  The heeled sandals lifted me to three inches higher than Caulsen, so he had to look up to meet my eyes, and I could see his eyes flit to the dark red hair I’d been born with.

“May I help you?” he asked after what seemed like a long time.

“I’m Kristen.  I’m in your class.  Obviously.”

He was quiet, lifting his eyebrows to encourage me while I fought my anxiety at speaking to a man I so admired.

“Something confusing you?”  He managed to ask that without sounding condescending, and I shook my head.

“I just wanted to say I read your latest paper in Scientific American.  It seemed a little…”

“Magical?” he filled in and laughed,a  genial sound that put me at ease.  I lot of people seem to think that speculating is the same as asserting.  I didn’t mean to suggest that the human mind is malleable under any circumstances, but certainly the right circumstances can open someone up to taking suggestion.  And the mind is a powerful tool.  Who’s to say that we can’t accelerating healing by suggesting to our patients that they’re getting better.  Not too far a step from many findings related to the placebo effect.”  He paused and smiled at himself.  “I apologize.  I get carried away.”

“No!” I said quickly, “It’s fascinating!”

Once more, his eyes scanned me from head to toe and he seemed to decide something for himself.

“If you’re curious, perhaps you would like to see for yourself.  I know how that sounds, but I assure you I am harmless.  What is your name, again?”

“Kristen Hayes,” I said, and felt my head drop.  “I want to be a doctor.”

Caulsen smiled wider at that and nodded.

“What if I asked you to help me confirm my findings?  Full course credit, of course.  And you’d be positioning yourself to graduate with any number of options opened to you if I say the right word.”

I couldn’t believe it.  I was going to be a personal assistant to Daniel Clausen!

Day Four

My first session with Dr. Clausen was a giant success.  At least, I think it was.  I was unprepared for all this, but it’s exciting to be part of something so cutting edge!

Let me back up a little.  I met Dr. Clausen at his home, which was just off campus.  It’s an older house, narrow and tall, like one of the buildings you see in San Francisco.  Inside, it was what you expect from a professor’s home – lots of dark wood and books everywhere.  His dining room table was littered with health care magazines and there was the faint odor of expensive tobacco lingering in the rooms.  A similarly narrow staircase led to a second floor, but I didn’t see past the slight turn to the upper floor.  I assumed this was his bedroom and bath, but I didn’t want to be rude and go poking around in the man’s home.  Still, he was warm when I arrived, and offered me a cup of tea that was tart, but soothing.

After the initial encounter, I was nervous about displaying myself for him, since my goal, obviously, was to be taken more seriously.  To that end, I chose a pair of flats to accompany my jeans and a much less revealing top.  You can’t hide everything, and I thought I caught Dr. Clausen glancing at the rise of the blouse I wore to get a sense of my body beneath it.  Those moments were fleeting, fortunately, and he was very professional and respectful.  When it came time to begin the work, Clausen led me to a small study where I sat on a leather sofa and he sat across from me in a pricey-looking chair, leaning forward to catch my eyes.

“Kristen, all I need you to do is relax and allow yourself to drift.  I have something I’d like to try, if you’re game for it.”

“Absolutely, Dr. Clausen,” I replied, shifting a little nervously.  Part of me wondered if he was going to make some sort of awkward pass at me after all and spoil my impression of him, but he stood instead.  When he returned, he had a plastic band with wires attached at either side of it, which plugged into a silver box filled with unknowable components, but it definitely looked homemade.

“This,” he said, holding the band before him, “is something of my own design.  If it works, it will allow you to interpret subtle commands as your own thoughts.  The idea is to make thoughts of healing and well-being appear self-generated, thus triggering the body’s response.  In theory, this little strip of plastic can accelerate the immune system’s recovery and make home health care a far more plausible and effective tool in the recovery process.  Ready, Kristen?”

I nodded and he fitted the band around my head, just above my brows, and it cinched to fix it in place.  I could feel a slight discomfort as the wires pressed against my temples, but nothing that I didn’t acclimate to in short order.  With the band on, Clausen fixed the other end of the wires to his silver box and opened it to reveal a rudimentary control panel.  He inserted a thumb drive into the panel and flipped a toggle switch that lit up a green LED.

“We’re starting,” he said unceremoniously, and I settled back against the sofa and placed a hand on either side of me, bracing myself for the unknown.  There was a slight tingle of current at my temples, then a low rumble, like thunder in the distance.  I closed my eyes and focused on the sensations, as Clausen had instructed me to do, and I waited.

I don’t know how long this was going on, as I came to when I felt the band removed.  Looking up, I blinked heavily and swiped at my bottom lip, where a line of drool crept out.  Attractive, I know, but my whole body felt as if I had just been awakened, and Clausen was smiling at me in clear approval.

“Was that it?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said, placing the band in the silver box and rolling the wires up to join it.  “You performed marvelously.  I’d like you to come back in three days and we’ll try again.  In that time, be aware of any thoughts or behaviors you would characterize as being unusual or unlike your normal modes of thinking and acting.  Fair enough?”

I promised him I would and left for my dorm room, where I was intent on trying to parse out anything that might have been added to my thinking.  I stared up at the ceiling in my bed for a bit, but I couldn’t discern any changes.  Then again, how do you tell if your mind, that little voice in your head, isn’t your own?

Day Seven

Just back from Dr. Clausen’s and it’s clear something is happening to me.  In a good way.  This session was much like the first, only now Daniel, that’s Dr. Clausen’s name, didn’t have to waste time explaining the device or any of its potential effects.  As soon as I arrived, he greeted me with a cup of tea and then it was right back to the study and the plastic band with its wires and three hours (!) of blank space.  Daniel is a sweetheart, and made sure I was resting comfortably and that I felt okay about continuing, but why would I not?  I haven’t felt so relaxed… well, ever!  Since the first session with the plastic tiara, I found my attitude had changed, but only to make me more focused with my studying and, well, happier.  It sounds crazy, but I walked around for three days with a big smile on my face, and I couldn’t explain exactly why.  I just knew that I was fine and that I was enjoying myself in everything I did.  From the workouts in the gym after classes to the club I went to the night before last, I had a great time everywhere I went.

The club was especially fun.  I’m not a typical club-goer, but Shawna, a classmate, had mentioned she was going out and asked me along.  In my current mood, I couldn’t turn down anything that sounded like that much fun, so off we went, but not before I dressed myself in a scandalously short red dress and matching heels.  Shawna is a tiny brunette with a tight little body, and the guys got quite an eyeful as we danced together before finding some partners of the opposite sex.  My guy, I think his name was Ryan, was shallow and vain, but he had a great body and it wasn’t hard to imagine myself beneath him.  I almost invited him back to my room, but Shawna’s guy got a little too handsy for her and we ended up calling it an early night.  Poor Shawna.  If it had been me, I would have given the guy everything he could handle and more!

I should have been embarrassed, but I couldn’t resist being a little flirty with Dr. Clausen, er, Daniel.  When I showed up for the second session, I found a skirt that had a tendency to slip up my thighs and show off some of my creamy skin that everyone liked to compliment me on.  The top was a button-up, and I left the top two open, imagining that, while I was dazed on his couch, Daniel would get a peek at the lacy black bra I was wearing beneath.

I’m not sure if any of that paid off, what with Daniel being such a gentleman.  He barely looked at me when I arrived, and when I left he only repeated the same advice to track my thoughts and feelings, yadda yadda yadda.  I mean, I know I should be more concerned with the effects of Daniel’s mystery box, but I couldn’t find it in myself to worry too much.  It’s a lot easier to go with the flow sometimes, you know?

Speaking of going with the flow, I found my dorm-mate was gone for the weekend when I returned, and I had the place to myself.  Privacy is pretty rare in these situations, so I rewarded myself by stripping my clothes away and sliding my hand between my legs.  I rode my fingers until I was screaming and someone even knocked on the door to make sure I was alright.  I can’t tell you how close I was to inviting the resident adviser in and seeing if she was up for a little grinding, even if she was a girl.  People have such weird hang-ups about sex, I think.  It’s way better to let yourself go.

Day Eleven

Danny called me in for an impromptu session.  I hate to admit it, but I was a little disappointed.  I was out shopping when I got the text.  I guess he noticed I wasn’t in class, but I found it harder and harder to concentrate in the lecture halls and hot classrooms with the air conditioners buzzing.  I needed to get out, and what better place than the mall where they had just oodles of cute things to buy.  When I arrived at Danny’s, I left all my bags in my car, an old sedan that I was going to have to trade in once I had some money.  Still, I managed to get myself dressed in some of the new items, and Danny was obviously impressed.  It was just some uber-tight white pants and a pink top that left my belly exposed, but I accessorized with some silver bangles and these big silver hoops.  I’d gotten obsessive about my makeup, too, and I was looking hot, if you don’t mind me saying.  Danny looked cute in his faded jeans a and a white shirt that showed a little tuft of salt-and-pepper chest hair poking up from the collar.  I wondered if he looked as in shape in the nude as he did in his casual outfit.  I’d never thought of him sexually, at least not exclusively, but it was hard to deny his ass looked pretty good in those jeans.

We chatted a little, and he asked me about any changes I’d seen in myself.  I told him about my happiness, that cloud of joy that followed me around everywhere, and then I mentioned I’d been shopping more, but otherwise everything felt pretty normal.  We did the whole routine, complete with his tea, which was even more bitter than usual and made my nose wrinkle, but I was quick to find my happy place again.  When I woke up from his sofa, Danny was sitting beside me, staring into my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, and secretly I hoped he would just lean forward and kiss me.  I know, I know, teachers shouldn’t sleep with students and all that, but he was a healthy guy and I was pretty hot, too, so why not?

“Sorry,” he said and stood, and I felt my face pucker into a pout.  “I just wanted to remember you just like that.”

It was a sweet sentiment, I guess, but I would rather he just kissed me, maybe grabbed my boob and give it a little twist.  I had learned, while my roommate was gone, that having my nipple pinched while I was jilling myself made me explode, and I was thinking of getting one or both pierced, just to see if the sensation got more intense.  Plus, you know, it would look sexy.

Day Thirteen

No judgments, okay?  I know what I’ve said before about being a doctor and stuff, but the classes are so boring!  I haven’t been in five days, now, and some of my professors have been calling.  Even Shawna stopped by to see how I was doing, but she left after I showed her my new piercing.  Oh, yeah, spoilers, I totally got my nipples pierced and it feels soooo good.  I have an appointment with Danny tomorrow, and I think I’m going to show him then.  I bet he’ll be surprised.

So, anyway, I quit going to class, which means I am going to have to find some place to live pretty soon.  Dorms are for boring old students after all, and I am most definitely not boring.  After last night at the club…

I met this guy, all buffed up with short hair and a thick chain around his neck.  He looked like he spent tons of time in the gym, when he wasn’t getting a new tat.  He wore this really tight tee that showed off his muscles and I was practically gushing to feel that hard body against mine.  I definitely advertised.  I found this really cute black minidress that didn’t leave much to the imagination.  If I bent just right, you could probably tell I wasn’t wearing panties, which was fine by me.  My pussy was hungry to be filled, and I was at the club for just that reason.  When the beefy guy finally wandered over with his gin and tonic or vodka tonic or whatever, I didn’t even let him talk.  I leaned against him and then my tongue was in his mouth.  I could taste the drink (vodka, for sure) and his arm went around the small of my back, holding me close to him.

I don’t know what came over me, but I whispered in his ear, “Forty bucks and I’ll suck you off like you’ve never been sucked before.”

Next thing I know, we’re behind the club next to the dumpster, which smelled like old lettuce or something, but I couldn’t stop myself.  I’d always been such a goody two-shoes and I was sick and tired of letting life pass me by.  And if I could make a few dollars in the process…

While he was unzipping, I reminded him about the price and he fished two twenties from his wallet.  I slid the money in my top like I’d seen girls in movies do, and then I knelt down and tugged his boxer briefs down to show off his impressively big cock.  Oh my god, the way that the bulbous tip was calling my name…  I think I surprised both of us by how quickly I wrapped my lips around that meaty pole and slid my tongue around his girth.   While I pumped the base of his cock with one hand, my lips and tongue were doing acrobatics on the length of him.  He was holding my head by the hair, pulling me deeper down, and I was able to relax my throat and take him all.  It wasn’t long before he was spasming in my mouth and dumping a load of cum in my mouth, which I swallowed happily.  The combination of his seed in my belly and the crinkle of bills tucked against my tits… it was even better than sex!  Well, maybe as good.

I went back to Danny’s today and had the usual session, but we actually talked a little bit before while I drank tea, which was nice.  I confessed I was thinking about leaving school completely and he asked if I was sure it was what I wanted.  He’s really sweet like that.  I left out the part about taking money for a blowjob, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t giving the bulge in Danny’s jeans a look.

“I’d like to do two more sessions,” he said after we’d talked a while.  “I want to make sure that you feel comfortable doing so.”

“Of course I do!”  I was more concerned with getting Danny to stop worrying about all the science-y stuff and just fuck me already, but I was being good.  For the moment.

“Good,” he said with a blush, which was weird, but Danny could be that way sometimes.  “Ready for the second-to-last session, then?”

“You bet!” I chirped happily and I clapped my hands together in excitement.  I knew when I did that the bounce of my tits would draw his eye, and I wasn’t wrong.  I really could go for some bigger ones.  Nothing too crazy, but nice, big double Ds.  Those would be super fun to show off.

I took my normal place on the sofa, but this time I didn’t sit.  I laid back, crossing my ankles like I was a proper young lady, but really it was so Danny couldn’t see how wet I was getting.  It was like I couldn’t stop how slippery I was, or how much I wanted a nice big cock inside me.  If it meant that someone was giving me a little money on the side, better yet!

Danny connected the wires to the band and made sure it was secure, then I went away again, lost in the distant thunder.

Day Eighteen

Tonight is the last session and I can’t wait!  So much has been going on and I can’t wait to tell  Danny all about it!

First of all, I got a new job.  I was thinking about how much I loved having people pay me for doing stuff that was fun already, and then I was thinking about how much it’s gonna cost to get the tits I want, and it hit me.  I work as a dancer now!  That’s right, all I gotta do is put on a little costume and swing around a pole with some music playing, and guys and not a few girls tuck money right in my bikini bottoms.  Or, in my case, the little latex skirt.  I loved uniforms, especially nurse uniforms, ever since I was little, so I found this perfect latex outfit that was all pink and shiny and really showed off my legs and tits.  The manager, John, said I was the best dancer he’d hired in years and he didn’t even mind when I took some of the guys upstairs and let them fuck me for $800 a go.  It’s the best!  So much money and I even had enough to go ahead and get my lips injected so they’re big and puffy and look perfect to put a dick in!

I didn’t change after I left work, hoping Danny would like my nurse’s uniform.  He was always a gentleman, but maybe this would bring him out of his shell.  The thought of Danny bending me over that leather sofa made me slippery and squirmy.

“Wow,” he said when he opened the door, and I giggled in response.  I do a lot of that, when I can’t figure out anything better to say.  “You look amazing!”

“Thank you,” I said and pushed past him inside.  I made sure my tits rubbed against him when I slid past, and the little tug my piercings offered when they caught on his shirt made me drip even more.  It had been almost five hours since I’d had something in my snatch, and I was ready for more.

He’d already poured the tea for me and I was sipping it when he found me in the kitchen.  “Krissy,” he began, and I looked up, beaming happily.  Last time he called me Kristen, which I hated.  Krissy is way more fun.  “This last session is important for both of us.  First, I want you to think about the last two and a half weeks and tell me if you’ve been unhappy in any way.”

He was fidgety and somber, but my giggle coaxed a smile back to his face.

“I’ve never been happier,” I said, leaving out “if you would just go ahead and fuck me finally.”

I licked my puffy lips, tasting the slight strawberry taste of the gloss and leaned forward, giving Danny a healthy look at my tits.  In a few weeks they would be twice as big, so he better enjoy them while he can!

“I have to tell you something,” he said seriously, and took a seat at the dining room table beside me.  I wanted to crawl into his lip and rub his crotch until I felt him swell up, but he looked all business, so I kept my chair.  “I haven’t been exactly ethical.  These sessions…  At first I kept everything unobtrusive, but you are so beautiful.”

I giggled and leaned even closer.  He could have moved a few inches and met my lips.

“So, I started adding a few suggestions, just making you more uninhibited at first and it worked so well, I…  I couldn’t stop myself.”

“I like it when you’re out of control,” I said.

“This is what I mean.  You have no idea what I’ve done.  What I’ve made you.”

I giggled.

“I don’t know if I could reverse it.  Or if I even want to.”

“I want you to do something,” I said in my breathiest voice.  “I want you to touch me.”

“I’m afraid if I do, I won’t be able to stop myself.  I’ll want even more control.  I’d want to own you.  Is that what you want?”

I didn’t care, to be honest.  I just wanted his hands on me.  My body was aching for it, and I slid my hand between my tits and unzipped the uniform, spilling my round flesh out.  His eyes went wide at my pierced nipples, hard and pointed, and I rubbed them, moaning a little.

“I want you to do whatever makes you happy,” I said, and realized I’d never been more honest in my life.

“Then it’s time for the last session.”

Day Thirty

My shift is almost over.  With the tips from dancing and the three trips I made upstairs, I’m leaving with almost four thousand dollars.  Another week, and I’ll have more than enough for the implants.  They are going to be super hot.

John was asking me something about working this weekend, but I can’t.  I belong to my Master those two days, and he gets me all to himself.  I can’t wait.  He said a while back that I only had one more session, but Master Danny uses it on me all the time.  I don’t even know what it does, but I obey Master Danny above everything, so I sit in my chair and I let him put the thingie on me and I go to sleep, and when I wake up I get to fuck him.  He’s not the biggest, but his cock is perfect, and I love having it inside me.  He’s used every hole I have, and every time I collapse in pure happiness after he’s cum in me.

Just yesterday, I got a little touch-up on my lips to keep them nice and big, dick-sucking lips Master Danny calls them, and I like to prove just how true that is.  I also got my hair lightened a little so it’s super red and bright.  Master Danny said it made me look like the whore I am, and I almost gushed just hearing the words.  When we’re fucking, he calls me his whore, or sometimes his slut-whore, and I swear I get off more than I ever did when he talks to me like that.  Most times, though, he just calls me pet or slave, and that makes me super horny, too.

When I arrive home, Master Danny is waiting for me in his bed, so I strip off my clothes and I join him, rubbing his cock until it’s hard enough to push into me.  He’s loosened up a lot.  He used to look at me like I had done something wrong when I told him all I cared about was getting laid, but now he loves how horny I am all the time.  I’m starting to get well-known at the club, too.  Krissy the Cocksucker someone called me, and I giggled til I almost passed out.  It feels so good to have my master decide for me, and he said it was a perfect name.

His cock slides easily inside, and I hug him with my slick walls.  He doesn’t last long, but I know, with it being the start of the weekend, he’ll put the collar and leash on me and then I’ll have another session.  Sometimes I can’t remember whole weekends and once I woke up with a different collar and puppy bowl with my name on it, but I never figured out how that happened.  Master Danny says not to worry, so I don’t.

He cums, and it makes me cum, too.  I know my body is built to make people cum, and Master Danny does it better than anyone.  I love him so much.  When we’re finished, he gets up and opens the collar on the nightstand.  I slip to the floor, not bothering to dress.  I crawl to him, and the collar slips around my neck.  He leads me downstairs and places the band on my head.

“Ready?” he asks and I nod.  “Good kitten.”

When I wake, I want milk.  But cum will do in a pinch.

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