Professor Vivian Takes An Assistant

Hello cuppy cakes! Back by popular demand – a Tag Team Essay By Mature Mistress Viv and LDW’s sexy and talented, Molly. I know I’ll be waiting and wiggling to see what this darling nymph serves up for our erotic reading pleasure. Enjoy!

We met a few years back; she was a freckled faced exuberant student in the front row of the lecture hall, and I was the Professor – who recognized her gifts. Looking over Molly’s application brought back many fond memories of my years teaching young minds to accept their true natures.

I had heard through the grapevine they called me, The Sage and I was secretly amused to have another nickname following me around. I sometimes wondered what they would think, if they knew I was called Mistress, in my kinky life outside of school.

It was always a lively class- since the subject matter was alternative sexuality; there were very few empty seats on Monday mornings, at 9. It was a pity I couldn’t share my experiences as a Femdom, and give them a Real Education.

Most weeks the stragglers would be settled in by the time I made my usual late entrance. I’d stand at the back of the hall, enjoying the young voices, so animated and vibrant. I spied the ginger hair girl holding court again, with both young men and women listening in rapture, as she read from her notebook.

The auditorium grew quieter as I made my way down the steps to the lectern, allowing a few cheeky comments about time and the tardy Teacher, before settling behind the high desk. Concentrating on getting the lid off a giant latte, no sugar – that has appeared on my desk every class, this year, became a silent signal to return to their assigned seats.

Checking the seating chart for missing faces, I’d raise the cup in thanks to them all, but suspected Molly’s clique took turns feeding my java addiction.

Jotting a few notes next to the chronic slackers’ names, I pulled the stack of essays out of a cardboard box. You could have heard a pin drop, they knew this one carried some weight. Not just 30% of their mid-term, but the opportunity to spend a year studying the lives and proclivities of – self-proclaimed – sexual sluts.

I had narrowed the field down to two papers, and decided to have the authors read them aloud to their classmates. The assignment was more than just what was written, the candidate had to also show the right nature and charisma, to be an effective researcher.

Calling each by name, I handed them their work back, pleased to be able to congratulate most on high marks, and offering counseling to those who needed guidance to improve.

Holding up the remaining two essays, and saw Molly turn bright red, when I asked her to come up and share her piece, Sexual Healing.

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