Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 6

Then I walked over to the door of her room. Opened it. And stepped out into the hall.

She followed me as far as the doorway and stopped. It was now nearly midnight and the hallway was dark, lit only by the dim red glow of the exit signs. I leaned against the opposite wall in the rectangle of light from her doorway and folded my arms, looking back at her. She looked up at me, her expression full of fear. "Nooooo....." she whined, her voice barely above a whisper, "Someone'll see me!"

I said nothing, simply unfolded an arm, pointed at a spot on the floor directly in front of me, refolded my arms and waited, looking at her.

She looked back at me, paralyzed. Then she leaned her head out of the doorway. Looked to the right and then the left...and then quickly crawled to the spot I'd indicated and stopped, looking up at me, her eyes terrified. I looked calmly back at her. Made her wait for my next direction for several agonizing seconds, which must have seemed like hours to her. Finally, I languidly extended my arm again and pointed from where she was to the end of the hall and back, indicating that she was to crawl along that route. She looked up at me in sheer disbelief, shaking her head vigorously, the distant exit lights making red streaks in her glasses. I nodded. She shook her head even more vigorously, her glasses sliding down to the end of her nose before she caught them, and mouthed the word "No!", panic-stricken. I straightened up from the wall, stepped around her—and she followed me, first with her eyes, then with her head and finally with her whole body—and stood in the doorway, my arms crossed. The message was clear: if she wanted to get back in...

For a few moments she continued to plead with me in the same manner, mouthing the word 'No!' over and over and shaking her head. But finally she must have realized that the longer she waited the better chance there was of someone stepping out to use the hall bathroom. So, biting her lower lip in fear, she turned—in the direction that would lead her away from the bathroom—and began to crawl as quickly as she could toward the far exit-door.

I watched her crawl, her buttocks rose-colored in the dim light. She was making pretty good time considering that her panties were still hampering her movement. She reached the exit door, tagged it like a swimmer doing laps, and turned around to head back. I saw that her glasses had not only slipped down her nose again but were hanging askew on her face—she was too concerned with getting back out of sight to take the extra second to straighten them.

In another moment she was in front of me again. She had obviously expected me to move out of the way as soon as she arrived because she almost bumped her head on my knees. She stopped just in time and looked up at me, her mouth open, breathing heavily. Her look, through those still-cockeyed glasses, said, 'What are you waiting for? Let me in!' But I continued to stand there blocking her way. Her questioning look grew more panicked, as if to say, 'What? What else? Tell me!'

Holding her gaze, I slowly unfolded my arms again, letting them hang loosely at my sides. Then I tilted my pelvis toward her, my erection obvious. And waited.

She caught my meaning immediately and gasped so loudly that she reached up and covered her mouth—so vigorously that her glasses went flying. She quickly retrieved them and put them back on. Her eyes, behind them, were once again glazed with fear. Bad enough to be seen crawling up and down the hall nearly naked, but to be seen in the same condition kneeling in front of a man and doing what she was about to do...

...And she was going to do it, she had no doubt...no choice. Now whimpering with fear she quickly rose to her knees and unfastened and unzipped my pants and pulled them down to my knees, followed by my underwear. Without wasting a moment she placed her hands on my waist and applied her mouth to the head of my cock, quickly licking it all around before taking it all the way in.

It soon became obvious that she had little experience in what she was doing. That first time, the other night, I had come almost the moment I'd entered her mouth because there had been a lot more foreplay, but now her lack of technique was frustrating.

I placed my hands on either side of her head and began slowly to pull my cock out of her mouth and just as slowly push it back in. She quickly adapted herself to my rhythm and began bobbing her head up and down, but she still needed instruction. I stopped her with my hands and pulled my cock out of her mouth again. She looked up at me in surprise.

I reached down and grabbed her right hand and held the first two fingers together as I brought it to my mouth. I showed her how to use her tongue by using my own, inserting her fingers into my mouth and running my tongue down their length as I did so. I repeated the action several times, then released her hand. I looked down at her and raised my eyebrows as if to ask, 'Do you understand?' She nodded, anxiously, and began again.

This time it was much better, and I could tell she knew it too. As she grew more confident she began to vary her rhythm, sometimes stopping with just the tip of my cock between her lips and stimulating it with her tongue, other times exploring how slowly and deeply she could take my shaft in without discomfort. Soon it became obvious that she had forgotten that she was kneeling in a public hallway with her panties halfway down her thighs—had forgotten everything except the dance of her tongue and lips.

I allowed myself to enjoy it as long as I could, but it was inevitable that eventually I would feel the beginnings of an orgasm. I decided to give 'Miss Santiago' one more surprise. I held back until the last possible second, then just as I began to come I pulled my cock out of her mouth. I held her head in place with my hands as my semen began to spurt. The first few drops landed in her hair, and on her forehead, but the next spurt splattered directly onto the right lens of her glasses, near the bridge of her nose, and began running down and dripping onto her cheek.

Her expression was horrified. She tried to jerk away from me and quickly raised her hands as if to put them in front of her face for protection... But then she dropped them helplessly to her sides and turned her face up to mine—so that my final spurts landed on her nose, her slightly parted lips and her chin. She looked as though she were in ecstatic prayer.

For a long moment we simply stayed like that as I recovered from my orgasm. Then I backed out of the doorway and into her room again, pulling my pants up as I went. Without thinking, Carol dropped down to all fours and crawled in after me. As soon as she was inside I closed the door behind her. Carol came to a stop...and simply waited. My semen was still all over her face and glasses—a drop of it fell to the floor from the end of her chin, followed slowly by another—but she did nothing, only waited.

I told her to stand up and close her eyes, and finished adjusting my pants while she did so. Then, standing behind her, I placed my hands lightly on her shoulders, turned her around and guided her steps until she was standing directly in front of her full-length mirror. I stood behind her and told her to open her eyes.

Her reaction surprised me. For a moment she simply stared at her reflection: the white drops of semen in her disordered hair; the blobs of it on her glasses and the glistening trails running down her face—now gathering at the point of her chin and dripping onto her chest and the bow at her neck; her nakedness and the panties bunched around her thighs. Then suddenly she began to breathe very quickly—almost hyperventilating—and cried "Oh!" in a loud whisper as the top half of her body jerked forward and down so that she had to rest her hands on her thighs as she went into orgasm.

It seemed to go on for a long time—she stayed hunched over, mouth open, whispering, "Oh!...Oh!...Oh!..." over and over as if to herself as if in pain. And even when she appeared to be done she remained in that position, as if it were the only way she could remain standing. I waited until she seemed to have recovered her breath, then said, "Stand up and put your hands behind your head,"—deliberately not calling her Miss Santiago.

Slowly, she complied. I looked over her shoulder and met her gaze in the mirror. I held it for several seconds—her right eye was barely visible behind the spatter of semen on her glasses but the left lens was still clear. Then I spoke.

"All right, Carol, here's what I want you to do. After I leave, and you finish cleaning yourself up, I want you to clean off your glasses." I reached around her and removed them, examined them, and continued, "Except for this part right here." I held them in front of her face and indicated a tiny trickle that had dribbled down inside her glasses at the very right edge of the lens. "Do you see it?" She looked at the spot I indicated, then back up at me, and nodded, her face blank. I went on, "You're going to leave that there, and let it dry." I gently replaced the glasses on her nose and concluded, "And every time you put on your glasses you're going to see it, and remember how it got there...and how you look right now..." I leaned forward and spoke into her ear. "...with my come all over your face. Is that understood?" I leaned back and waited.

She took a sudden, sobbing breath...and nodded again, her eyes staring at me.

I wasn't done. "From now on you're going to carry your glasses with you wherever you go. You will put them on whenever I tell you to. And then you will do whatever else I tell you to do. Have you got that?"

Her head barely moved this time, but she nodded.

"Say it."

She swallowed convulsively. Licked her lips, taking more of my semen into her mouth. Swallowed again, Then said, her lips quivering, "I'll—I'll always bring my glasses with me. I'll put them on whenever you tell me, and...and I'll...do whatever else you tell me. Oh god...." She began to shiver.

I reached over and snagged another tissue and handed it to her, saying, "Wipe off your mouth." She did so. "Turn around." She turned and faced me. "Kiss me good night and say 'thank you'.

She carefully leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth, then leaned back, met my gaze as best she could, and whispered, "Thank you...Jonathan."

I smiled at her and said, "You're welcome. Good night." Then I left.

To Be Continued..