Yes, though it's a long wait.

Pulling up and buttoning your pants isn't easy. Your rigid cock as to be carefully stuff back in less it caught on the zipper and the tightness of the jeans only inflames the soreness of your ass. With difficultly, you leave the Dean's office with a normal stride and the walk back to your dorm room is hell.

Once safely inside you drop your pants and examine the Dean's handiwork. "Fucking bitch," you swear at the sight of your bruised ass in the mirror. Not only is your entire rear crimson red but the center of each cheek is covered with ugly purple welts that are painful to the touch.

Downing some ibuprofen you grab ice from the mini-fridge you wrap it in a dishcloth and caress your stinging ass. Your thoughts, however, soon return to your encounter with Dean van Laar. There is anger, but there is also the haunting memory of the curvy administrator in her tight white shirt. Once again your cock begins to stir. "Damn it!" You mutter, while standing with your pants down in the middle of your dorm room as you apply the ice to your ass with one hand, while your other grabs your cock and begins to stroke it.

Over the next few days the pain disappears but the visions of van Laar only increase. Normally, you masturbate a few times a week, but in the days leading up to Saturday you can't get the Dean out of your mind or your dick out of your hand. After playing with yourself four times on Wednesday, you call Darcie, a kinky ex-girl friend, and now a "fuck-buddy," to work out your frustrations. At first she groans approvingly at the more aggressive and aerobic fucking you give her, unaware that as you bang away your thoughts are solely on the well endowed Dean. Your slip of "take it bitch" is fortunately received as some playful dirty talk, but when you moan loudly "ooh! Dean van Laar!" as you approached your climax, you receive a slap in the face, after which your fuck-buddy abruptly storms out, leaving you to cruelly finish jacking off to van Laar's picture found on the college's website.

After masturbating six times on Friday you resolve that you have to go to the Dean's house and see this to the end, if nothing else to remove the strange spell the witch van Laar has put on you. That morning after masturbating, showering and putting on some old work clothes, you get into the 1998 Honda Civic your mom has lent you and drive off to the Dean's house.

The van Laar estate is in a very rural farming section in the next town over from the college. Hidden behind a row of pine trees, and labeled only by a small rural route number, you're almost late as you drive by the turn off several times. After going through a tunnel of the New England conifers you enter into a large open land with a pre-Civil War three story mansion sitting atop a small hill. The house's most striking feature is a large solarium around back.

Parking the car you walk up the cobble stoned path leading to the house. Grimacing you note the peeling paint, uneven stones and all the other work that must be done to maintain such an ancient edifice.

Once more you come to the Dean's door, but this time in the isolation of her private residence, uninhibited by watching eyes and college rules. Taking a deep breath you take hold of the iron door knocker and give a few loud raps.