It hurt as she did, and she knew what was coming when she felt him lean toward the bag."And whose dirty little asshole is this?" he demanded. The tip ...f the riding crop stung her startled tiny clenched hole again and again.When he finished, she began to speak “It’s yours, it’s your dirty asshole.” Then she whelped as he whipped her clenched anal hole a few more times, and the tears began to flow."Tell me like a good whore" he hinted, then stung her twice more.When she could speak, she cried out. She sighed, it was time to forget these childish things, time to move on. She at last knew what it meant to be an adult, the wonder of her own sensual nature had unfolded to show her the 'secret' that her stuffy upbringing had denied her.She was a woman thanks to the kindly Professor, and she would repay his tutelage. She would join her mentor and assist him in whatever way she could in his vital work. Her attachment to him may be purely platonic, rather than the urgent sensuality she felt. More

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