My Stepdad Ordered Me to Seduce My Professors

Ever since my mother remarried, Marcelo had a habit of taking my face in both hands and staring at me very hard before always letting out the same line.

—You’re mine and nobody else’s. Never forget that.

He said it with a calm that left no room for argument. And, strange as it may sound, I ended up liking that line. It made me feel chosen, important, as if I were the one thing in the world that truly belonged to someone. Over the years I stopped fighting it and simply accepted it as another truth, like the color of my eyes.

The summer I turned eighteen, that line stopped being a game. He truly made me his one afternoon in January, with the house empty and the fan turning slowly on the ceiling. I remember every second. He undressed me slowly on the couch, biting my neck while he pulled my panties down with two fingers, and when he spread my legs and saw I was already drenched he let out a hoarse laugh.

—Look at you, whore. Look at you for your daddy.

He shoved it into me in one thrust, all the way in, and I screamed with my face buried in his shoulder. He fucked me slowly, savoring me, talking dirty in my ear the whole time. “This cunt is mine, you hear me? This pussy belongs to me.” And I said yes to everything, my voice breaking, while his cock went in and out and I felt the semen rise along his shaft before it spilled hot inside me. He filled me completely, and then he stayed inside me for a long while, kissing my mouth as if he were marking me from the inside. I gave myself to him without reservation because for years I had been convinced that was my place. He was fascinated by me. So much so that for a long time there was no one else in my head or in my body.

I was his. I had known that forever.

***

The problem started at university. I had always been a good student, the kind who sits in front and turns everything in early, but that second year something got tangled up inside me and my grades crashed. I didn’t understand why. Marcelo, on the other hand, took it as a personal affront.

—You can’t fail —he told me one night, grinding his teeth—. You’re mine, and what’s mine doesn’t fail.

There was a week left before finals and my numbers were a disaster. That was when he dropped the idea on me, just like that, as casually as if he were commenting on the weather.

—Talk to the Statistics professor. If you have to, offer him something. You know what. As long as you pass.

I froze. I wasn’t expecting it, and it took me a while to understand what he was telling me. It wasn’t the proposal itself that threw me off, but what was behind it: he was offering me to another man. He, who for years had repeated to me that I was his and no one else’s, was now pushing me to spread my legs for someone who wasn’t him.

—You want me to sleep with someone else? —I asked, and my voice came out tiny.

—I want you to pass —he replied, without blinking—. And I want you to tell me everything afterward. In detail. How he fucks you, how he takes you, if he fills your mouth, if he comes inside you. Everything.

That last part was what finally made me dizzy. He wasn’t sharing me outright: he was lending me out just to take the story back like a trophy. It took me hours to take it in. But the next morning, without fully understanding why, I was already walking toward the professor’s office.

***

Professor Aurelio was a big man, with broad hands and a measured voice, the kind who commands authority without raising his tone. Rumors had already spread through the halls that several girls had sorted out their subjects the same way, so I went in thinking my proposal wouldn’t shock him too much.

It didn’t shock him at all. Quite the opposite.

—Honestly, I’m surprised you took this long —he said, leaning back in his chair with a half-smile—. I thought you’d come sooner, like the others.

I felt so strange. In all my life no man other than Marcelo had ever laid a hand on me, and suddenly I was locking a door and letting a stranger pull my skirt down over his desk. My legs were tense, my breathing shallow, not really knowing what to do with my hands.

Aurelio wasn’t in a hurry. He swept the papers aside, sat me on the edge of the desk, and opened my knees with both hands without asking. He looked at my panties for a few seconds in silence, then smiled.

—You’re already wet —he said, running a finger over the fabric—. Well, look at that.

He yanked my panties aside and buried his face between my legs. His tongue went in slow and wide, lingering on my clit as if he had all the time in the world. He sucked me until my thighs shook, until I grabbed his head with both hands and came in his mouth without being able to hide it, biting my arm to keep from screaming. He didn’t stop there. He stood up, pulled his pants down without taking his eyes off me, and showed me his thick, veined cock before pushing it into my mouth.

—Suck it, baby. Suck it, because today I’m going to give it to you good.

I sucked him slowly, looking up from below, saliva dripping down my chin. When he pulled it out of my mouth he turned me around against the desk, shoved my skirt up to my waist, and drove his cock into me in one stroke. I screamed with my face pressed to the wood. He shoved it in all the way, to the balls, and started fucking me hard, holding my hips with both hands, talking to me the way Marcelo never did.

—That’s how you like it, isn’t it? I knew you were a horny little whore. It shows on your face, baby. It shows in the way you clamp down when I fuck you.

He turned me again, laid me on my back over the desk, opened my legs as wide as he could, and entered me again. I remember the cold wood against my back, the sound of the air conditioner covering my gasps, the way he held me by the waist as if I might get away. He fucked me in three or four positions until he got hard as a rock and came inside me with a long groan, emptying all his semen into my cunt while he squeezed my tits under my bra. I felt every hot spurt slamming into my depths, and I came with him, shaking all over. I didn’t run. I stayed.

That same week I went back. Not out of necessity: I went back because I wanted to. I let him take me every time he wanted —on the desk, against the wall, kneeling under the table while he pretended to teach class on the phone—, and every time I liked it more. I left his office with my passing grade secured and something new buzzing inside me, a question I didn’t dare say out loud: what if this was just beginning?

That night I told Marcelo everything. Everything. How he had licked me, how he had fucked me, how many times he had filled me. I sucked him while I told him, and he came on my face before I finished the story.

***

What came after was like opening something that had been locked for years. Without meaning to, I started sleeping with most of my professors. One class led to another, one look in the hallway turned into a late appointment, and I discovered I was fascinated by this new life, this feeling of power and loss of control at the same time.

I memorized almost every hotel downtown. I didn’t even bother to hide it anymore: I’d arrive, say hello at reception, go upstairs. The concierges recognized me, kept the same room for me, smiled at me with a complicity that at another point in my life would have made me ashamed and that then, instead, seemed like part of the game.

Each one had his own thing. The Accounting professor always wanted me on my knees, sucking him against the headboard until he came in my mouth and asked me to show him the semen on my tongue before swallowing it. The Law professor couldn’t fuck without insulting me; he called me whore, slut, horny bitch, and to my own astonishment, every word turned me on more. The Philosophy professor was the most obscene of all: he’d turn me face down, spread my ass cheeks with his thumbs and lick me for a long while before pushing into me without lubricant, slowly, listening to me moan with my face crushed into the pillow. It was with him that I tried anal sex for the first time, and discovered I liked it as much as anything else.

It was a time of strange, electric happiness, when the thrill of the forbidden had become an addiction. Every passed exam came with a new story, every professor had his own way of asking for things, and I collected all of it like someone collecting secrets. And Marcelo, every time I told him, would light up. He made me repeat the details while he fucked me, he asked if they had come inside me or in my mouth, if they had fucked me in the ass, if I had swallowed. I told him everything, my voice breaking with his thrusts, and he came inside me growling another man’s name. My story drove him as crazy as living it drove me.

I was his, yes. But now I belonged to many. And far from bothering him, that devoured him.

***

It was only a matter of time before the story reached the dean’s ears. Rolando was an older man, impeccably dressed, with an authority you could feel as soon as you crossed the door. He wasn’t going to pass up the chance to have me, and one noon he sent for me to come to his office.

We talked for a few minutes out of pure courtesy, about grades, performance, university life. But we both knew why I was there. He stood up, went around the desk, and leaned against the edge right in front of me. He opened his fly slowly, without saying a word, and took out his cock already half hard.

—Let’s see if all the things they say about that little mouth are true —he said, with his usual calm voice.

I knelt without thinking. I took him with both hands, licked him from base to tip, filled his cock with saliva, and shoved it all the way into my mouth until I choked. Rolando let out a long sigh, took hold of my hair, and started moving his hips himself, fucking my mouth slowly, looking down at me from above.

—Like that, baby. Like that, all the way in. You suck it so well, fuck.

Time flew by. So much that I completely forgot one detail: Marcelo always came by to pick me up at that hour. When he couldn’t find me anywhere, he asked around, and they told him the dean had called me into his office.

He thought I’d been summoned for some infraction. He came in worried, silent, without knocking, ready to defend me from a punishment.

He froze in the doorway.

There I was, stretched out on the dean’s desk, my legs open and my skirt twisted up at my waist. My panties were on the floor. Rolando had his face buried between my thighs, licking my cunt slowly, his tongue going in and out, and one hand climbing up the back of my hips, a finger pressed right against my asshole. The scene left no room for doubt.

—Hi, daddy —I greeted him with a huge smile, not moving, not closing my legs.

The dean jumped and pulled back at once, white as paper, looking around for somewhere to disappear. I stayed still, exposed, with my cunt shining with saliva and my tits out of my bra, waiting for Marcelo’s rage.

But the rage never came.

***

Marcelo walked toward me very slowly, and there was no anger on his face. There was something else, something I knew well: pure, overflowing lust. Never, in all those years, had he seen me with another man. He had always been satisfied with the story, with my voice telling him what happened in rooms he never set foot in. And now he had it right in front of him, live, unfiltered.

Something inside him broke. Without saying a word, he took the place the dean had left empty, opened my legs even wider, and bent over my cunt with a desperation I had never seen in him. He licked me all over, top to bottom, sucking my clit, pushing his tongue deep inside me, going up to my tits to bite my nipples and then back down again. He kissed me, licked me, squeezed me as if he wanted to recover all at once everything he had been missing. He was out of his mind.

—Look at her —he murmured against my skin, his mouth shining—. Look at this whore. She’s mine. She’s all mine.

He unbuttoned his pants without taking his eyes off me, pulled out his swollen cock, and drove it into me in one thrust. I screamed. He started fucking me hard, looking me in the eyes, with that crazy expression I had never seen on him before.

Little by little, Rolando recovered his breath. He overcame the panic caused by the interruption, got himself in front of my face again, and seeing that Marcelo was not only not kicking him out but seemed to be inviting him, he dared to come closer once more. He took out his cock again and put it to my lips.

—Open your mouth, baby. Suck it.

And that was when I understood what was happening.

This wasn’t just sex with an old man in an office. I was with both of them at once. The dean was fucking my mouth and my stepdad was slamming his cock into my cunt at the same time, the two most forbidden things I could imagine happening in the same room, over the same desk. The thrill of knowing it shouldn’t be happening made everything more intense, more electric, more impossible to let go.

I sucked him off while Marcelo slammed into me from behind. Every thrust from my stepdad drove the dean’s cock a little deeper into my throat, and I moaned with my mouth full, hearing both of them panting above me. Rolando came in my mouth first, with a rough groan, gripping the back of my neck with both hands so I wouldn’t let him go. I swallowed every drop, looking at Marcelo. My stepdad saw me swallow and lost his mind: he pulled his cock out of my cunt, flipped me face down over the desk, and shoved it back in from behind, fucking me like an animal, talking dirty against the nape of my neck.

—Whore. My whore. Suck the dean’s cock, go on. Again. Let him see how I fuck you while you’re sucking him off.

Rolando didn’t take long to get hard again. He came back around the desk, took me by the jaw, and shoved it back into my mouth while Marcelo kept fucking me from behind. It was my first threesome, and the sensation was an excitement I wouldn’t know how to explain. One body in front, the other behind, both of them breathing hard, hands everywhere, two cocks fucking me at the same time. I closed my eyes and let myself go completely. I came twice, biting my lips, with Marcelo filling my cunt with semen and Rolando coming again, this time on my face. I ended up sprawled across the desk, my skirt a mess, semen dripping down my chin and legs, feeling like the absolute center of something none of the three of us would ever forget.

***

That threesome was not the last. It repeated every week until the course ended, always in the dean’s office, always with the door closed and the same silent complicity among the three of us. And, of course, I kept seeing my beloved professors on my own.

Marcelo never again told me I was his and nobody else’s. It was no longer necessary. He had discovered that seeing me with other men turned him on more than anything else, and I had discovered that I loved being looked at, desired, shared, fucked by two cocks at once while he watched me. In the end, the two of us got exactly what we wanted.

I’m still his. Only now he prefers to see me in another man’s hands —and cocks.