He told me to put on my schoolgirl skirt, a white shirt, thigh highs, heels, sit in the chair at the end of the bed, and wait.

So I did.

When he returned, in brown slacks, a tweed coat, cup of coffee in hand, he was carrying a folder.

He told me he was very disappointed in my last exam scores, and that since I was such a promising student, he was willing to tutor me personally.

Apparently, I had failed a test for a course entitled “History of Eroticism: A Focus on BDSM and Anal Punishment,” in which I was supposed to have learned about Raphanus (a genus of flowering plants including the wild radish/horseradish) and its use in the historical practice of “figging” (inserting a piece of ginger root into the anus, vagina, or male urethra – either for punishment or pleasure).  I must’ve missed a question relating to its use as a punishment for adultery in ancient Athens, and I was also quite clueless about sodomy by mulletfish.  And finally, I was remiss in explaining how ginger was used in a caning victim’s anus to prevent her from clenching during punishment.  Clenching while hosting ginger in the anus causes a subtle burning sensation and serves to push the root deeper, causing even more discomfort.

After a litany of incorrectly answered questions (it was obvious I hadn’t studied), my Professor displayed serious doubts about my ability to succeed.  And my giggling and sarcastic answers only served to land me bent over the “desk”, enduring the horse whip.

Somewhere along the way, I also ended up on my knees, carefully, under instruction, pulling his cock out and sucking it, until eventually my Professor decided to engage me in experiential learning, and pulled out a “gift” meant just for me….a carefully carved and peeled ginger root.

He coached me in “presenting” the way he expected, and then proceeded to insert the ginger root in my ass.  Umm…yes…a subtle burning sensation is an apt description – one that reverberates even when the implement of punishment is extracted.

He proceeded to lay me down, lifted my shirt to bare my breasts, lifted my skirt to bare my shaved pussy…

I asked my Professor about his “wife”…whether or not she cared that he “helped” his students in such a way.  While he explained how little she cared…or that he even brought some of his best home to her…he began to fuck me.

And the roles eventually disappeared, as I looked into my Professor’s cold pedagogical eyes and watched them transform into the warm, blue ones of my Sir.

3 Replies to “Role Play, Figging, and the Element of Surprise”

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