Thursday , May 19 2022

Anne Humilation – Anne’s professor continues to humiliate her

And so we continued. Each morning, on her way to class, Anne would stop by my house and pose naked on my dining room table while I sat in front of her and casually ate my breakfast. I had borrowed a yoga book from the college library and over the course of the next few weeks we worked our way through all the main yoga postures – well at least those which afforded me the most explicit views of either her genitals, underarms, breasts or the soles of her feet.

Some days I would only ask her to uncover one part of herself and focus, for example on the soles of her feet, her tummy. Or she would pull her bra down and let her little breasts, and disproportionally long dark nipples, hang out under their own weight in front of my face. One time I even had her position herself so I could look up her flared nostrils!

At other times, when I was horny as hell and needed some quick relief, I would ask her just to squat down on the edge of the table with her legs wide open, so I could stare at her hairy black cunt while I masturbated in front of her.

Today, for a change, I had instructed her to lie naked, on her back, down the length of the table, while I casually walked around her and drank my coffee. Occasionally I would stop and stoop down to study a specific part of her such as her neck, tummy button, areola or ankles.

Her legs were together and her arms were stretched back over her head to expose her (now) hairy armpits. At my insistence she had stopped shaving altogether in order that I would get to see just exactly where she was able to grow body hair. I was fascinated at the prospect given that she was mixed race Afro-Caribbean and Korean and the untidy, threadbare carpet of pubic hairs that grew around her vagina were like shiny coils of black wire.

As I scanned her body from head to toe I was immediately drawn to the little pale mounds of her breasts and, by contrast, the thick, dark brown rubbery nipples which extended vertically from her huge puffy areola. Two or three tiny, crinkled hairs grew out of a group of distended pimples at the base of her left nipple. Elsewhere, she a slight growth of hair around her navel and then randomly across her belly and down towards her crotch.

When I got down to her feet, I kneeled on the floor to study her light coloured soles and heels. As I leant in for a closer look, the smell of her feet took me by surprise. It was an unusually strong cheesy smell today and I recoiled at the unpleasant stink. Girding myself to the hugely unpleasant odour, which of course I actually enjoyed, I then spend some time examining the callouses on the balls of her feet and the areas of flaky whitish skin around the backs of her heels. Finally, I took my magnifying glass to her toes to see if she had any evidence of hair growth on her toes.

“When did you last take a shower Anne?” I asked.

“About three days ago like you said. I really do need to shower this morning though; I just can’t go too close to anyone at the moment. I’m scared of freaking out my friends. Please!”

“Let me see.” I said walking back alongside her and pausing right at her midriff. I stared at the very prominent bulge of her mons pubis. It was like a small, lightly forested island rising out from the undulating caramel sea of her belly and thighs.

Her pubic growth was very sparse and it was easy to make out the darker oval shape of her vulva and study the detail of her labia. Her inner lips broke through the little curly hairs like two smooth blades of dark brown rubber; and where they touched together I could see a thin film of mucus forming up along the slit.

I leaned over and sniffed all around Anne’s cunt to confirm if she was telling the truth about how strongly she smelled. I knew already, or course, but I loved the humiliation it caused her.

“Yes your Korean cunt stinks Anne. If only I could taste it!”

“Well you know the rules professor. No touching. And by the way, I am only half Korean.”

“Yes of course, and I would never dream of touching without your consent.”

I stared longingly at her vagina and as she watched me perving her, a thought seemed to occur to her.

“Actually professor, there is something I wanted to bring up.”

“Oh yes, and what might that be?” thinking that maybe she was having second thoughts about continuing our arrangement.

“I have to go back home to the States quite soon…”

“Oh no, really, I will miss you terribly!”

“It’s a friend of mine; he’s in some trouble and I need to go home and try to help.”

“I won’t ask what it is…”

“No it’s a very private matter, but the thing is, I don’t have enough for the plane fare.”

“Ah ha!”

“I was wondering, err well thinking that maybe, err there was something I could do for you that might…”

“You would like me to help buy you the ticket is that it.”

“Well yes.”

“How much do you need?”

“At least £500.”

“Wow, that’s a very big number Anne! I can’t imagine how you would be able to repay me?”

“Well, I’m prepared to consider maybe some offering some new services for you…”

“Oh really!”


“So like what exactly?”

“Well, maybe I might let you touch me, or maybe something else? Why don’t you have a think about what would be worthwhile to you and then perhaps tomorrow we can discuss it?” she suggested.

“OK,” I agreed. “But only on the condition that you don’t shower again today.”

“But I really have to!”

“I will excuse you from class today, just so that you’re not embarrassed, and see you back here same time tomorrow.”

“Ok professor, one last time then. Are we done for today?”

“I will go upstairs while you get dressed. You can let yourself out as usual.”

All that day, I struggled to concentrate. As hard as I tried to focus on the lectures and tutorials I was giving, my mind kept returning to the opportunity which now presented itself. But other than having actual intercourse – which wasn’t really on my agenda anyway – just how far was she prepared to go?

After a fairly restless night, when I found myself rehearsing various scenarios over and over again in a dream like state, I finally awoke with a clear idea of what I was going to ask.

But when Anne arrived at the dot of seven, she was not her usual bright and cheery self.

“You OK Anne?”

“Morning professor. No actually I had a pretty bad night,” she said, moving through into the lounge and taking a seat.

“Me too.” I sat down opposite to her.

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