Tutorial Ch. 02

May 1, 2024 // By:analsex // No Comment

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Bonnie led the way across campus to our tutorial. She said very little to me, except to instruct me to walk on her left and half a step behind her. I complied.

Walking behind her allowed me an excellent view of her assets: short pencil skirt, pink strappy heals, and beautiful toned legs. I could feel my dick swelling, which quickly became uncomfortable as it filled its uncompromising plastic prison. I looked away and the pain slowly subsided.

We arrived at tutorial, which was held in a smallish room in the arts and sciences main building. The room was arranged with chalkboards on three walls, and a rectangle of tables. Our TA and a few other students were already there. Bonnie directed me to a pair of seats next to the TA and sat next to him, with me on her other side. Once we were seated, she proceeded to chat with the TA, while I pulled my chair as close to the table as possible to hide any evidence of my predicament.

After a few minutes of small-talk, the rest of the tutorial filtered in and we began. I was forced to participate, as I was normally on top of the readings and quite vocal in tutorial – so the TA was used to calling on me repeatedly. Not only was my mind elsewhere, but I hadn’t done the readings – my answers were perfunctory and obviously ill-informed.

To make matters worse, Bonnie was toying with me throughout the tutorial. She sat slightly back from the table, angled her body slightly towards me, and kept crossing and re-crossing her legs in my direction – bumping my legs with her her toes each time. Tiring of this, she moved closer to the table and, when everyone was looking at someone on the other side of the room, daringly reached under the table to caress my imprisoned cock, and squeeze my balls.

I spent the majority of the tutorial in a state of painful semi-arousal, and desperate for it to end. More importantly, I was dying to remove the painful device on my penis.

However, Bonnie clearly had other plans.At around the 45 minute mark of our hour long tutorial, she leaned over and whispered something to the TA about an e-mail she apparently already sent to him requesting permission to leave early, and then began gathering her things. He bid her goodbye, and then continued on with the tutorial. I looked imploringly at Bonnie, but she had already gathered her things and was quickly making her way towards the door.

I was shocked and didn’t know what to do, and the she was gone – leaving me (and my cock!) stuck in a difficult situation. Without another option, I waited for the tutorial to finish, pretended to be looking through my notes as everybody filed out of the classroom, and then packed up and left in a daze.

As I left, I turned my phone back on and saw that I had a text: ‘Call u tmrw ~Bonnie~’. I texted her back asking why she had left me, but received no answer. I called her and she didn’t answer. I hung up when her machine picked up.

At a loss, I walked briskly back to my res room.

I skipped dinner at the dining hall and ate leftovers. What should I do?! At least I didn’t have any classes on Friday!

I decided to look up lock picking online, but a few minutes of browsing told me that I needed tools to pick a lock. I fashioned makeshift tools out of a piece of a pen cap and a bent paper clip, but to no avail. Not happening.

One thing was for sure: there was no way I was going to ask any of my friends for help… or go to a locksmith for that matter. My cock was staying locked until Bonnie let it out or I came up with a better idea.

At a loss, I went to bed early and tried to sleep. Unable to relax, my Kadıköy escort bayan mind bounced between worry over my situation and thoughts of Bonnie. Even despite all that she had done to me, God did I ever want her. She certainly wasn’t the ditz I thought she was – and damned if those legs of hers weren’t absolutely gorgeous.

Every time my mind went down this path, I would begin to become aroused – which would lead to excruciating pain… and then more worry about my predicament.

Eventually, after several hours and too many of these cycles to recall, I fell asleep.

My phone woke me at 6am. It was a text from Bonnie: it read ‘Meet me for breakfast at 7’, and named a cafe just off campus that was popular with students.

I was somewhat flabbergasted, but at the same time it’s not like I could say no in this predicament. I texted back saying I would be there.

I quickly rose and showered (which was an interesting experience), and rushed out to the cafe. By the time I got there, it was 8 minutes after 7. Bonnie was sitting in the front window. As I walked past the window to the entrance, I could see her looking impatiently at her watch. Shit.

I rushed inside and approached the table, reaching for the chair to sit down.

Bonnie looked up and snapped ‘Stop’.

I did.

Pointing at her watch, she looked at me expectantly. She was totally in control, and I knew it. I immediately apologized: ‘I’m sorry Bonnie, it took me longer than I expected to get here.’

‘From now on, you always on time,’ she stated confidently, and more loudly than I would have liked. I had spotted some people I knew on my way in.

I quickly agreed, blushing and desperate to sit down. Wordlessly, Bonnie pushd the chair out from the table with her high-heel clad toe, and gestured for me to sit.

My intent had to been to confront her about leaving me in tutorial the day before, and to demand the key to my plastic prison. As had been the case with our every interaction lately, Bonnie had me so off-balance that I just sat there, waiting for her to take the lead. She was clearly in no hurry, picking up her pink blackberry and typing away while I sat there uncomfortably.

After a couple of minutes, she put her phone down and took a sip of her tea. She looked at me and smiled coquettishly, still saying nothing. She held the eye contact until I looked away.

We continued to sit there in silence. The server came and asked if I wanted anything. I ordered tea. Some people I knew vaguely walked past and smiled at me. I nodded back, hoping they wouldn’t approach. Mercifully, they didn’t.

Once again, despite my uncomfortable position, I couldn’t help but admire Bonnie’s assets. It was a cool morning, so she was wearing a fashionable sweatshirt with a pair of tight fitting jeans and black heels. Her legs were crossed, and she was dangling the heel on her crossed leg.

Bonnie caught me looking and smirked. Blood began to flow to my cock, and I winced in pain. She caught the wince too, and her smirk turned into a broad smile. She was loving this.

After this, she broke the silence: ‘You like my heels?’

‘Um… yes,’ I replied, my eyes downcast.

‘Good,’ she said. After a pause, gestured vaguely to my midsection and asked, ‘Does it hurt?’

‘….. yes,’ I said again.

‘Good,’ she repeated.

Another moment of silence.

‘You are wearing underwear?’ she asked. I said that I was. She shook her head, tisking gently, and gestured to the server for the bill. ‘I do not like you to wear underwear.’

I wasn’t sure how Escort Kadıköy to respond to that, so I didn’t.

‘We fix that,’ she said. Before I could reply, the bill arrived. Bonnie pushed it over to my side of the table and stood up. I took out my wallet to pay, and she walked out of the cafe. I left $20 and followed, without waiting for change.

Outside, Bonnie hailed a cap. She got in, and I followed. She gave the cabbie an address in a young and hip area where a lot of students lived. It was sandwiched between campus and the city’s gay neighborhood. ‘My apartment,’ she informed me.

As soon as the door was shut and the cab started off, Bonnie instantly grabbed my crotch. I yelped slightly, and saw the cabbie peek at me in the rear view mirror. She felt all over the chastity device, checked the lock through my pants, and then squeezed my balls. I grimaced but stayed quiet.

She continued to squeeze, caress and fondle my trapped cock for the duration of 10 minute trip. We rode in silence.

When we arrived, Bonnie stepped out of the cab and walked towards the house, again leaving me to pay. I did.

She lived on the first floor of a semi-detached Victorian style brick row house. It was the kind of neighborhood that had old houses and was relatively nice, but at night it became somewhat rough due to its proximity to subsidized housing nearby. Not a bad neighborhood per se, but not a great one either.

Her apartment consisted of a living room with big bay windows, a small galley style kitchen that looked under-used, her bedroom, and a back patio. The overriding theme of the apartment was pink.

She walked into the the living room and sat down on the couch. I moved to follow and she snapped ‘stop.’ I did.

‘Strip, kneel,’ she said.

This again. I complied without hesitation, even my boxers.

She smirked at the sight of my pink-plastic encased penis. Despite myself, I began to become aroused. It hurt. Again, she saw this and loved it.

She gestured towards the floor by the couch, and I knelt.

‘Good boy.’

She poked the chastity device with the toe of her shoe. In the silence of her apartment, the dull noise from her toe making contact with the plastic of the chastity device was very audible. She did this a few times, and giggled. Tiring of this, Bonnie worked her toe under the chastity device to my balls and poked them, starting off relatively gentlly but becoming rougher very quickly. I did my best to keep from starting whenever she poked me particularly roughly. Despite the pain, I was still becoming aroused.

She lowered her shoe, and I sighed slightly with relief. But my relief was brief: she wasn’t lowering her foot, the movement was actually the backswing for a small kick. The top of her shoe made contact with my balls, and I fell backwards groaning in pain. Bonnie found this hilarious – momentarily. Then she became angry: ‘Back on knees!’

I regained my composure as quickly as possible, and regained my kneeling position in front of her. Bonnie leaned forward and delivered an open-handed slap to my right cheek. I saw it coming and managed to avoid falling sideways. She liked this.

Looking down at her foot and shoe, she saw that a bit of precum had wound up on the top area of her foot left exposed by her heels. It had probably been deposited there after that last kick. She pointed at it and said simply ‘lick.’

I balked: as much as I would love to lick any part of Bonnie, I wasn’t interested in licking up my own precum.

‘Lick!’ she repeated, louder.

‘I can’t,’ I pleaded.

Angrily, Kadıköy Rus Escort Bonnie reached forward an grabbed the back of my head, pushing my face down towards her feet. I allowed my head to be lowered, but resisted when it came close.

She lowered her head next to mine and whispered quietly into my ear ‘You lick now.’

‘I can’t!’ I said again, imploringly.

She released my head and sat back angrily. Looking me in the eye, she raised her toe and tapped on my penis cage once again.

‘You like this?’ she asked

‘No,’ I answered.

‘No lick, no key,’ she spat. ‘You lick mess or leave. Now.’

I considered my options: I could overpower her physically, but I had no idea if she had the key on her. It was probably in the apartment somewhere, but I’d probably have to assault her to find out where – and then she could just report me and get me expelled (or worse). Who would believe what had really happened?

‘Ok,’ I said. Bonnie smiled victoriously.

Leaning down, I began to lick my precum from her dainty foot. I could hear her giggling girlishly above me. She pushed her foot upwards against my mouth, and tapped her toes against my balls with her other foot – just hard enough to hurt. The precum itself wasn’t as bad as I had expected, slightly sweet but mostly tasteless. It was just an incredibly humiliating position to be in, so I got it over with as fast as possible and quickly regained my kneeling position. The worst part was that my proximity to Bonnie’s legs and feet had caused me to start to become aroused again, once more causing my trapped penis to swell and painfully lose the stiffness battle against the plastic prison.

As I lifted my head and looked at Bonnie, I was surprised to see that she was holding her Blackberry, with the camera aimed in my direction.

‘Smile!’ she chirped. All I could manage was a grimace. With that, she pressed a button on her phone, ending what I had to assume was a video of my humiliation.

Lowring the Blackberry, Bonnie examined her ankle briefly and nodded. Apparently she was satisfied with my work. ‘Good boy,’ she said. ‘Next time you do what I say right away!’

I nodded.

Bonnie stood up abruptly and walked around me to my pile of clothes. She picked up my boxer shorts, and brought them over to where I was still kneeling. Thrusting them close to my face, she said ‘You never wear again.’

‘Ok,’ I agreed.

Satisfied at my assent, Bonnie gathered the rest of my clothes and threw them at me: ‘Stand, dress.’

Again, I complied. Once I was dressed (once more, sans underwear), Bonnie walked back to the front door and opened it, gesturing to me to follow. Directly in front of the open door, she reached her right hand down to grab my balls, and with her left hand grabbed my head and brought it down to her level.

Whispering in my ear, she said ‘You my toy now. I call you… later.’ With that, she gave my balls one last painful squeeze before releasing her grip, pushing me out the door, and slamming it immediately behind me.

Dazed, I stood there momentarily. What could I do? I made my way to the street and began to search for the subway.

As I walked I took stock of my situation: my penis was still locked, I had to believe that there was now video (or at least a picture) of the disgusting act I had been to perform, and Bonnie had made it clear that there was more to come. As disturbing as that was, there was no denying that I had never been so aroused in my entire life.

Churning through my options, I concluded that once again my only choice was to wait for whatever Bonnie had in store.

As I walked, my chastity cage brushed up against my jeans, making me consistently aware of my imprisoned state. My balls ached, both from their pent up state and from Bonnie’s painful squeezes and kicks.

I checked my phone: no missed calls or texts.

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