Imogen still has to tip you

You unstrap Imogen's legs and order her to stand. She gives a wail when her ravaged soles touch the rough concrete, but her terror at the prospect of receiving further chastisement is enough to encourage her to continue and **** herself to support her own weight. She stumbles to the door and up the stairs, with you following close behind, which is fortunate, as it allows you to catch her when her knees buckle about halfway up the steps. You hold her until she recovers and resumes her painful journey under her own steam.

You guide the well-whipped brunette up the second flight of stairs and into your bedroom. She neither speaks nor exhibits any **** towards the destination and waits, trembling, at the foot of your bed whilst you strip off the remainder of your clothes.

Facing each other, your gazes take in the other's body: your ageing, overweight, unfit frame and her young, slim, lithe figure, skin covered with raw puce stripes that, if anything, make her more attractive to you, rather than less. You cannot hide the fact that you like what you see, your meaty erection jutting towards her tear-stained face, but Imogen does not seem discomforted by your scrutiny, her red-rimmed eyes fixed on your engorged member and lips slightly parted.

You flop onto the bed and beckon your unofficial maid to join you. She stifles a scream when her throbbing palms touch the smooth bedspread, but crawls onwards until she arrives between your legs, breathing heavily.

"May I show my gratitude for the punishment you've taken so much trouble to give me, please Professor?"

When you smile and nod, Imogen immediately bends forward and takes the tip of your cock into her mouth, swirling her tongue around before effortlessly deep throating you, turning her head from side to side to maximize your pleasure. After the visual stimulation of her flogging, you're worried that you won't last very long and push her away. She looks worried that she's displeasing you, but you just want to try something a little different before you shoot your load.

"Mount me, Imogen," you command sternly and for the first time, your luscious grad-student exhibits apprehension at the prospect of sharing an intimate act with you. Still, she moves up at once, straddling you and guiding your spit-slick prick to the entrance of her inflamed and abraded sex. She's dry and unprepared, but her saliva is enough to prevent you feeling any discomfort as you slip into her tight, ridged sheath. It does nothing to alleviate her discomfort, though, and her face screws up in agony as she slides up and down on your unyielding shaft, a sheen of perspiration forming on her red-scored flesh.

"Look at me, Imogen. Anyone would think you didn't appreciate this chance to reward me for disciplining you."

At once, she fixes her vision on you, slapping a timid smile upon her face and speeding up in an effort to finish you quickly. Before today, you would have classed this as the best sex of your life, but now you can't help think she should be doing better. For obvious reasons, she's **** to squeeze you with her pelvic muscles, but the excruciating pain it will inevitably cause is no excuse and you reach out to grab her bouncing breasts, running your fingers over her blazing weals to grip her throbbing nipples, cruelly pinching them in a vice-like grip.

"Oh-oh, oh, aaah!" Imogen moans turn to a shriek when you dig your thumbnails into the raised welts on her nipples and twist them viciously, but it has the desired effect, as the pain between her legs is finally eclipsed by the agony in her breasts. Putting her burning palms on your chest, she starts to ride you with wild abandon, milking your phallus like a silken glove, **** to end this ordeal as quickly as possible.

Despite your best efforts, you can't hold back for much longer and soon empty yourself into her scourged twat. Imogen almost sobs with relief, but you haven't yet decided whether her efforts were acceptable.