Inflammatory got a soft chuckle from Jeremy, a real victory since he hardly ever broke character in our role-playing scenes. "Just hush," he said, landing a really sharp one. "Don't make me put the glasses on again."

I half yelped, half laughed as he paddled me harder. I could barely feel the stinging pain now, I was so aroused.

"Please, please, please," I begged in earnest. "Please, I've been punished enough now. Surely you don't even need to take my ass! I know my place now, and I won't be disrespectful again, not ever. I promise. I swear!"

I wiggled my red-hot ass in hopes of distracting him from further discipline, but well, he was a sadist after all. My horny asshole had to wait until he landed a few more stingers. Crack. The fire in my cheeks combined with the fire in my ass until I was one shuddering mass of aching girl goo.

"Okay, Penelope," he said finally, laying the paddle down. "That will make it hard for you to sit down for a while."

I put my hand behind my ass to rub the smart away. He took it and shoved it back down on the desk. "None of that. I want you to feel every bit of that pain. When you sit down, and you feel that lingering sting and ache, you will remember the proper way to behave for an intelligent Harvard girl like you." I brought my hand to my lips and started sucking my fingers. I was so horny. I craved the taste of his cock.

"Absolutely, Professor Gray." I nodded. "I've learned my lesson now."

"You've almost learned your lesson, Miss Ashton. Now please lower your undergarment to your knees so that I can teach you a little more about proper behavior for an unabashed anal whore like you."

"Please, no!" I shifted on my feet so my ass swung back and forth. I was rewarded with Jeremy's soft intake of breath. "Please, I'm afraid your huge cock will hurt me!"

"As well you should be," he said, coming around to stand before me. He undid his belt and then his pants. He whipped off his shirt and pushed his pants down, shoving his hugely erect cock in my face. "I think this will be enough to teach you a very effective lesson."

"Oh no, Professor Gray. Please...please just let me suck you off instead!"

"Suck me off? A girl like you probably couldn't even get a cock this thick past your lips."

"I'll try! Let me try-" My words cut off as he shoved his cock down my throat. I sighed and took it deep inside, swirling my tongue around the swollen head and then bobbing up and down on its length. I was so hungry for him, the salty taste of him, the musky, masculine fragrance. The satiny texture. I pressed my clit against the desk harder, twisting my hips back and forth.

"Take your panties down."

I reached back, not losing a beat, and worked the thong down over my hips, letting it fall to the floor. His cock bobbed in my mouth as he reached back and took the toy out. He left me and positioned himself behind my ass.

"Please!" I pleaded one last time. "I promise to be good. I'll do extra credit! Whatever you desire!"

"Here's your extra credit, you naughty little whore," he said as he held my hips and eased the head of his cock into my ass.

I moaned. In twenty seconds or less I would come.

"Oh please..." I begged as he slid slowly all the way in. "Please teach me a lesson, Professor! I don't know why I'm so naughty."

"I think it might be the red hair." His voice sounded jerky and strained as he spoke the words in rhythm to his thrusts. His fingers dragged across my scalp. "I find red hair in young ladies very subversive. Especially your particular shade."

My laughter cut off in a gasp as he wrapped his hand in my curls and pulled my head back to plant a kiss on my temple. "But I'll try to look past the things you really can't help."

"Thank you, Professor. But oh God, oh...please-"

"Please what?"

"Please may I come, Professor?" I gasped.

"Young lady, must I remind you that you're being punished?"

"Oh please, please!" I'd been masturbating against the edge of the desk since he'd first bent me over it. If I didn't get release soon... My clit was so hot, my nipples were aching from rubbing back and forth against the wooden surface, sliding across papers and books. "Ohhh." I moaned as he ground his pelvis against my ass.

He leaned forward on the desk to brace himself. I grunted and bucked against his swollen cock. The desk started sliding across the floor.

His hands grasped at my neck and then slid down to squeeze my breasts. He pinched my nipples hard. I cried out and scrabbled for purchase, tensing as he drove faster and faster into my ass. Papers flew, pencils scattered. A pencil sharpener was batted to the floor.

"Holy fuck!" I screamed. Jeremy clamped a hand over my mouth. Pleasure shot out to every part of me like a thunderbolt. I pounded on the desk, riding the waves of orgasm as my ass clenched around his cock. He gave one last pummeling thrust and shouted through his own orgasm. The desk nearly toppled over. I swiped for the lamp as it fell and managed to save it. He collapsed over me, his hand still over my mouth. I lay still, his body around me. His cock remained planted firmly in my ass. His chest hair tickled my back. His thighs trapped mine. My dominant, powerful and strong. Warm and loving. Hilarious. I loved him. A few seconds later he planted a soft kiss at the back of my neck.

"I guess I'm just going to have to accept that fact that you're incorrigible," he said against my ear.

"Yes, Professor Gray," I agreed with a sigh.

I peeled off her sweater and sucked her tits before I dragged her to the shower. I wasn't done with her yet, but I was finally getting to the point where I could show some restraint. I was finally coming to realize she wasn't going to leave me.

She was mine forever. My faithful one.

Oh, I was still going to marry her. Not that she needed that piece of paper any more than I did. We would do it sometime. Maybe after she was done at Harvard, maybe before, if we felt like it. I'd already set Martin to drafting the prenuptial agreement, more to amuse Nell than for any practical reason. It was much less explicit than the first document, since not much needed to be spelled out between us anymore. I didn't need those black and white words on paper the way I used to. I could see all the promises I needed in Nell's clear, beautiful eyes.

Penelope Ashton (hereafter wife) agrees to live as partner and lover to Jeremy Gray (hereafter husband).

The wife agrees to provide loving faithfulness, as well as sexual submission upon request.

The husband agrees to provide dominance, protection, kindness, and handsomeness.

The wife will offer bravery and forgiveness as needed...hopefully not too much...

Later, in bed, I spread her out in front of me and tied her down. I knelt between her legs and started to lick her all over. She sighed and arched her back and made those small, urgent noises I loved.

"So how did you do on your exam?" My tongue fluttered against her clit.

"I did...I did really well-I think-" She was having trouble finding her breath.

"You think?" I asked, raising my head. She moaned and nodded quickly.

"I...I know I did...I did really well-"

I smiled and resumed licking and teasing her swollen clit. I loved to play with my little toy. My comfort object. My submissive. My soon-to-be wife. I loved to feel her writhe against me and give up control to me. Oh, I craved for her to lose self-control. I could do this for hours just to feel her jerk under my tongue, just to drive her lust higher. I tasted her musky juices and breathed in her scent. She twisted under me, then whined softly. I didn't reprimand her for being fidgety. Sometimes I did, but not today. I devoured her swollen slit until her hips bucked against my chin and I could tell she was close to the edge. Then I stopped and smiled at her guttural protest.

"You studied hard, didn't you?"

"Yes..." she said. "Oh, Jeremy... Oh God... Please!" Her wrists and ankles pulled helplessly at the restraints.

"I'm so proud of you," I whispered. I fell on her once more and lapped around her clit, then took it in my teeth and gave it a tug. I worried it delicately between my lips and then soothed it with a broad, lingering stroke of my tongue. I felt the tension release, heard her quick exhalation. I stroked her all over as the orgasm racked her body, stroked her until the tremors subsided, then untied her and drew her into my arms. "Nell. I love you so much. Good girl."

The wife will act as comfort object at all times to her husband, Jeremy.

The husband will be brave enough to love his wife, Penelope, and worship her like the goddess she is.

The End

A Final Note

I hope you enjoyed Nell and Jeremy's story. If you're wondering about their happily ever after, please check out the other three books set in the world of Comfort Object-Caressa's Knees, Odalisque, and Command Performance.

Caressa's Knees picks up a year or so after this story ends, and tells the story of Kyle and his quest for love after the heartbreak of pining for Nell. In the course of Kyle's romance with a talented yet tormented concert cellist, Jeremy and Nell make several appearances, and you learn more about their life a few years down the line...

Odalisque tells the story of Kai Chandler, Mason and Jessamine's friend, who acquires an odalisque named Constance to fulfill his sexual needs. But the two lovers soon find that sexual slavery leads to a much deeper emotional connection-whether they want it or not. Mason, Jessamine, Jeremy and Nell all appear in this book.

Finally, Command Performance relates some serious life changes for Mason, including a new, trumped up, PR-driven relationship that turns poignantly real.

You can buy all these books separately or take advantage of my promotionally-priced Comfort Series box set, available from the two largest online book retailers.

A short excerpt from Caressa's Knees, a sequel to Comfort Object She froze at the knock on the door. It wasn't her aunt's knock. "Go away," she yelled.

"Open the door," he said in a calm voice.

"I said go away!" God, his stupid voice. She hated how it sounded like caramel, all smooth and melty around the edges. Where had he said he was raised? Louisiana? Texas? Again he knocked, two sharp raps in succession.

"I'm trying to sleep!"

It was a lie. She was huddled beside the bed where she'd dropped and pulled her knees up to her chest, trying to forget about the mistakes, the patronizing applause... She heard the knob rattle and knew he was picking the lock. The door swung open and she turned her back on him.

"Caressa-"

"Get out!" She screamed it, the same way she'd screamed at him that morning. "Get out, get out!" It felt good to scream at him, or rather at the wall, because she couldn't look at him and scream the way she was screaming. "Get ou-" The final 't' was muffled by a large hand and his hiss against her ear.

"Stop it, you diva."

She hit out at him, turning and attacking with everything she was worth. He parried, pushing her back and pinning her down with embarrassing quickness.

"You're an angry little girl, aren't you?" he asked, his hands flexing on her wrists.

"I'm not a little girl, you jerk. I'm not a diva."

"No? You act like one."

She fought with renewed energy. He slid his hands from her wrists to cover her palms, still pinning her with his body.

"Let go of my hands!" No one touched her hands. Ever. But he ignored her shrieked command, his fingers closing around hers. His chest was pressed to hers, a cage. An anchor. He waited for her to look at him, but she wouldn't do it.

"Go away!"

"No."

She finally chanced a sideways glance at him, and what she saw really devastated her. He admired her. Still. "You don't understand, Kyle. It was terrible."

"I liked it," he said without pause.

"Because you don't understand."

"No, I don't," he agreed a moment later, with an ironic lilt to his voice. "How can you say it was terrible? The applause went on and on. They were shouting 'Bravo!'"

"Yeah, they're idiots. They do that every time. Dress up and go listen to the pretty music from the fancy orchestra in their flashy tuxedos. They're like you, they don't know. The reviews will tell the story tomorrow. You fucking idiot."

His face changed then, and his fingers tightened around hers until she squirmed to pull them away. "Apologize."

"Let go of my hands."

"Apologize. I'm sorry I called you a fucking idiot, Kyle."

She shook her head.

"Say it. I'm sorry I called you a fucking idiot. I'm sorry for trivializing your experience and ranting at you like a shrill bitch. Say it."

"Fuck you!"

"Say it. I can hold you here all night. Do you need me to repeat it?"

"I want to go to bed."

"As soon as you apologize."

She pouted. Damn, she had an itch on her arm. He wouldn't let go of her hands no matter how hard she pulled, and she had to scratch it. She squirmed against him and...oh my God.

He smiled down at her. Smug asshole. "Say it, Caressa."

He was hard, and he was pressing against her in a way that had her body rebelling against what her mind was telling her to do.

"No. Go away," she insisted, a little less forcefully this time.

"I'm sorry..."

"Jesus. Fine. I'm sorry I called you an idiot!"

"And ranted at you like a shrill bitch."

Caressa heard a snort and a laugh and realized it had come from her. And then more laughter bubbling up before she could stop it. She wanted to be angry. She hated him. She despised him. No. She adored him.

"Say it." He was laughing against her lips, kissing her. "Say it, you crazy little wingnut."