An Interview with the Dean

Not for those under 18 (or whatever the legal age for this sort of stuff is in your area). If you’re not that old, Boo! Go away now. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of sexual activities, especially non-consensual ones, then don’t read this. All characters and situations are fictional.

Copyright 2025 greyscribbler@yahoo.com

Archived on the Read Only Mind web site by permission of the author. This story may be downloaded for personal archiving as long as this notice is retained.

“Yes?”

Katherine opened the door. A little voice told her that she should be nervous, but she didn’t feel that at all. She wasn’t sure what she felt.

“Ah, Doctor Hughes. Come in. Sit down.”

Katherine looked at the man who had spoken, and the chair. Chairs were for sitting in, right? “Um, right. Yes.” He’d said to sit down. So she did. “Thank you, Dean Richards.”

Right. That was right. She was supposed to be here, meeting with Dean Richards.

“No, thank you,” the older man smiled. He was older than her. Maybe twice her age. She was, um, twenty-eight? Yes, that sounded right. But he was the dean, so that was okay. “I’m sure you’ve been worried about this meeting.”

Had she been? Katherine didn’t feel worried. If anything, she felt sort of … floaty? That was weird, right? She should be worried about that. But she wasn’t. She just felt … floaty.

Maybe everything was okay.

“Let me start by reassuring you that the recent cuts won’t affect you.”

That was good, right? That would mean she’d still have her job. Had she been worried about that? Katherine thought that she might have been. It didn’t seem to matter now. “Um, thanks?”

“You probably guessed though,” the dean smiled conspiratorially. “I mean, would the faculty spend so much on refurbishing your office if we intended to get rid of you? I don’t think so. Do you like how it is now?”

“Uh, yeah?” Katherine thought that she really should be making more intelligent comments than she was. But it was so hard, with the way she felt so floaty and, kind of, nice? Her office had been done up. She remembered that. It was nicer now, fresh and new. But just sometimes she’d felt like she could hear something…

“Don’t tell anyone else, though,” the dean continued, breaking her tenuous chain of thought. She stopped worrying about her office. It was nice of the faculty to do it up for her. “I wouldn’t want them to think I was playing favourites. The numbers in your courses are strong, so it’s an obvious decision.”

“Oh, right.” Were there a lot of students in her courses? Katherine frowned, trying to remember.

“Don’t worry about that now.”

Katherine stopped worrying. It seemed easier that way.

“But now that I’ve reassured you about the cuts.” She did feel good about that. Maybe even more floaty. “There’s something else I’d like to ask you. Not terribly important. Just wanting your opinion.”

“Um, yes?”

“Is it possible, do you think, for people to have one view for wider society, but a different preference in their personal lives?”

Katherine frowned again. She’d barely been able to follow what he’d said. “Uh, maybe?”

“Perhaps if I gave you an example,” the dean smiled. “Would it be possible for someone to hold genuinely progressive political views but in their sexuality favour more hierarchical relationships?”

Katherine looked at him. She knew those words. Should know what they meant.

“I should be more specific,” the dean mused. “Do you think it is possible for someone to support equality, etc. But in their sexuality, their kinks for want of a better word, be turned on by things like dominance and submission.”

“Dean! I, we shouldn’t…”

“Come now,” the dean smiled. “Your area is gender studies. Surely you consider politics and sexuality all the time.”

Oh. That was right. She did. She still didn’t quite get what he meant. “Um, what was the question?”

“Can someone’s kinks run counter to their politics?”

“Uh, yeah? I mean, I think so.” Agreeing seemed the easiest thing. It made Katherine feel even more floaty. Which felt nice.

“Thank you,” the older man nodded. “I’m glad that’s settled. Just an idle question. Which goes with this being an informal meeting. You didn’t have to dress up for it.”

Katherine frowned again. Had she dressed up? She could barely remember getting ready this morning, the trip in. Walking across campus. She looked down at herself, her eyes widening at the skirt that reached only halfway down her thighs, the tight blouse. The high heels.

“You must like dressing up,” the dean said.

“I do?” That didn’t seem right to Katherine. She could barely ever remember wearing clothes like this. Certainly not to work.

“You like dressing up,” the dean repeated.

“I do.” It did feel good, to wear things like this.

“And, if I may say, you have the figure for it.”

“You shouldn’t… That’s not…” She was alone in an older colleague’s office. And he was talking about her clothes. And…

“You like being complimented on your figure,” the dean said. “And you’re very pretty.”

“I like being complimented on my figure.” Katherine wasn’t sure why she said that. But it definitely seemed right. And she did have a good figure, tall and thin. And she was pretty, with blonde hair and green eyes. Even if she didn’t usually like to make much of it. But it was nice to be appreciated. So if someone complimented her on it, that was good. Right? And if she had a good figure, why not dress to show it?

“And if you like your clothes, I’m sure you like wearing what you have on underneath them.”

“Hey!” Katherine cried, standing up. She was twenty-eight. She had her doctorate. She taught, um, stuff. “That’s, that’s wrong! You shouldn’t talk about my, my!”

“Sit down.”

She sat down. She was so floaty. Had she been angry? She had, hadn’t she?

“You like showing off your body. You like wearing clothes like this. You want to show me what you have on underneath them. You want to show me your panties.”

Maybe she … did? It sort of made sense. She did like her clothes. They showed off her body. And if she liked her clothes, she must like what she had on underneath. So maybe she did want to show the dean her panties…

“Put your heels on my desk.”

She could see that. If she put her heels up on his desk, it would make it easier for her to show him her panties. God, her heels were so high. Did she actually own heels that high? She must, because she was wearing them. She couldn’t remember buying them though…

“Put your heels on my desk,” the dean repeated.

Oh, that was right, she needed to put her heels on his desk. Katherine lifted her feet up, letting her heels rest on his desk.

“Spread your legs.”

That was…

“You like spreading your legs. It feels good to spread your legs.”

Actually, it did. It felt really good to have her heels up on his desk with her legs spread. It should make it easy for him to see her panties.

“Not bad,” the dean nodded. “But I can’t really see. Why don’t you hike up that skirt?”

“I dunno…” That seemed to be going a bit far. Couldn’t he see her panties as it was?

“You want to hike up your skirt. It feels good to hike up your skirt.”

Actually, that did seem like a good idea. It would make it much easier for him to see. And she did want to show off her panties. Katherine hefted herself up, hiking her short skirt around her waist before settling back down. It did feel really nice, having her legs spread and her panties exposed…

“Very nice,” Dean Richards smiled. “A thong, I see. Silk, is it? Do you often wear those?”

“I, um, dunno?” Katherine wasn’t sure which question she was answering. Maybe both? And a thong? Did she even own one of those? She peered down at her centre. It was definitely a thong. Black and lacy… that was right. She’d put it on that morning. She could remember doing that, even if it did seem out of character for her. She still wasn’t sure where it had come from.

It did feel nice, showing off her thong to the dean.

With her legs spread. Hey, the heels of her shoes were pointing at him. That felt nice too.

“Is it silk?” the dean asked.

“Um, maybe?” Katherine stared at her centre again. It looked like it might be silk. Shouldn’t she remember? She had put it on. And maybe bought it…

“Why don’t you touch it and find out?” the dean suggested.

That made sense. If she touched it, she would know whether it was silk or not. But… “I don’t…”

“Nonsense,” the dean declared firmly. “Touching it is the best way to find out whether it’s silk or not. And you want to touch it. You want to touch yourself.”

“I do want to touch myself,” Katherine agreed. Even so, as her right hand crept towards her centre, it almost felt like it was moving of its own accord. “Oh, God,” the cry escaped her lips as her fingers found her the soft fabric. Her fingers traced the line of her opening, the sensation shooting through her body. The muscles in her legs tensed as her finger found her clit, circling where it lay under the silk.

Oh, it was silk.

“So, is it silk?”

“Um, yeah?” Katheine replied.

“It must feel so good, touching yourself like that.”

It did. It felt so good, with her finger idly tracing her opening through the thong.

“Wouldn’t it feel even better if the thong wasn’t in the way? Why don’t you pull that thong aside and show my your pretty little pussy?”

“I, uh, that would be… Showing you my, um, pussy would be, uh, slutty?” Touching herself was one thing. But showing the dean her pussy? That didn’t seem right. He was so much older than her and sort of her boss and… When did she even use words like ‘pussy’?

“Oh, it’s definitely a pussy,” the dean smiled thinly, picking up on her hesitation. “You like calling it a pussy. And I’d think you’d be proud to show it to me. Such a pretty pussy.”

Well, when he put it like that. She did like calling it a pussy. It was a pussy, right?

“Show me your pussy.”

Katherine hooked two fingers around the soft fabric and pulled it aside.

“It feels good to show me your pussy. Spreading your legs and showing me your pussy feels good.”

It did. It really did.

“And it’s nice and shaved too.”

Katherine peered at her centre. Her completely bald centre. That wasn’t right, was it? She never? But obviously she had. Oh, she remembered now. “It’s not shaved, it’s lasered,” she said, almost proudly.

“Oh, that’s good,” the dean smiled. “You like having a bald pussy. You’ll keep it that way.”

Katherine’s gaze was still fixed on her centre. It did look good, completely hairless. She’d definitely keep it that way. Did that mean she’d have to go back? Wherever it was? There was a vague memory…

She let a finger trail over her naked skin. That felt really nice. Much better than worrying about how her pussy had ended up that way.

“Showing me your pussy feels nice. So would showing me your tits.”

Katherine’s gaze snapped up to the dean. Although her fingers were still caressing her pussy. That felt nice and warm. Like her pussy was nice and warm and wet. Maybe she could slip a finger inside. That would feel nice.

The dean had said something. “They’re, they’re not tits. They’re breasts.” That was the important bit, wasn’t it?

“What are?” the dean smiled thinly.

“Uh, these?” Katherine pointed at her chest with her free hand. Her other hand was occupied with her pussy. She was still considering whether to slip a finger inside.

The dean’s smile widened. “Oh, no. They’re definitely tits. You call them tits and maybe a few other things. Not breasts. But right now, you should show them to me.”

Oh, right. That was the other thing. “I, uh. I don’t think I should.” Showing her tits to someone she barely knew wasn’t right, was it?

“Why not?” the dean asked, obviously amused.

“Well, it would, uh, you know, be sort, of, um, slutty?” Katherine was sure that was right.

“Anymore slutty than showing me your pussy?”

“Uh…” It was hard to argue with that.

“Undo your blouse. It will feel good to do that.”

Something told Katherine that it would. And she’d still have her bra on. So that was okay. Wasn’t it?

She undid her blouse.

It felt good.

“Very nice. That’s a very pretty bra. It matches your thong.”

He was complimenting her. She liked getting compliments on how she looked. It made her feel good.

“And a very nice pair of tits.”

“Uh, thanks?” More compliments. Getting complimented on her body was good.

“But I still can’t see your tits. You want to show me your tits. It will feel good to show me your tits.”

She could imagine showing the dean her tits. It would feel good. But that would mean she’d have to take her bra off. Which she’d totally need to do to show him her tits. But her blouse was in the way, even if it was undone, and…

“Slip your blouse off.”

Oh, right. That’s what she needed to do. It was so nice of the dean to be helpful like that. Katherine slipped her blouse off. Which needed both of her hands. Which meant she had to stop playing with her pussy.

As soon as her blouse was off her hand went back to her pussy.

“And now your bra,” the dean prompted her.

Oh, that was right, she needed to take her bra off. How had she forgotten that? It would feel good to show the dean her tits. Katherine reached behind herself, unclipped her bra and shrugging it off. He could see her tits now. That felt nice. Maybe he’d compliment her on them.

“Those are very nice tits.”

Yay! He had!

“How big are they?”

“Um…” Katherine peered at her exposed tits. They were sitting there and…

“Bra size,” the dean prompted her.

Oh, right. She knew that. “32C!” That was a good size, right?

“Nice,” the dean smiled. That meant he liked them. That gave Katherine a warm glow. Well, a warmer one, given what her hand was doing and… the dean was saying something, “You should play with them. It will feel good to play with your tits while you’re playing with your pussy.”

“Um, how?” She was already playing her pussy.

“You do still have a free hand.”

Oh, that was right. It was nice of the dean to help her like that. Katherine’s free hand found her tits, stroking them and pulling at her nipples.

“It feels good to let me see you play with your pussy and your tits.”

It did. All warm and nice and fun.

“How does it feel to let me see you play with your pussy and your tits?”

“Um, good?’ Katherine replied. It did, although she wasn’t sure why he’d asked. He’d told her that it would feel good, hadn’t he? Which it definitely did.

“Anything else?” the dean asked.

Was there? It felt so good, her hands playing at her pussy and tits. Oh, right. “Arousing?”

“Turned on,” the dean corrected her. “It turns you on. So showing me your pussy and tits and playing with them feels good and turns you on. It’s a bit slutty though, isn’t it?”

“Uh… You shouldn’t call a woman things like that.” That was right, wasn’t it? Names like that were bad.

“Oh, come on,” the dean chortled. “you’re sitting there, heels on my desk, legs spread, playing with your tits and pussy. Slutty is a good description. And I think, given everything, girl is much more fitting than woman.”

Well, when he put it like that, it was hard to argue with. But Katherine still didn’t want to be called, well, that.

“Slip a couple of fingers inside that slutty pussy. It will feel so good.”

Katherine did just that. She was so wet they slipped inside so easily. A moan escaped her lips. It felt so good.

“Why don’t you come over here?” the dean suggested after Katherine had thrust her fingers in and out a few times. “It will feel good.”

Katherine couldn’t see how it would. But the dean’s other suggestions had worked out, so she did.

Even if it meant she had to take her fingers out of her pussy. She almost mewled as she did that. She tottered on her heels, unsteady. Her skirt had slipped back down. Which was something. Even if she was half-naked and her thong was still pulled to the side under neath the skirt.

“Sit down,” the dean ordered once Katherine had arrived at his side of the desk.

“Um…,” she frowned, turning back to her chair. Why had he told her to come over to him just to send her back? Oh well, if he did, maybe she’d get to put her fingers back in her pussy.

“No,” he laughed. “On me,” he added, indicating his lap. “It will feel good.”

“Oh.” That made sense. Sort of. There wasn’t anywhere else to sit. “I dunno. It’s a bit, you know…”

“Sit down,” the dean ordered.

Katherine did. On his lap. She could feel his, um, well, that thing, pressing into  her thigh.

It did feel good.

Like his hands on her felt. One hand was stroking the inside of her thigh while the other reached around to fondle a tit. It felt really good, as the hand stroking her thigh roamed higher, under the edge of her short skirt, as his other hand pulled at her very erect nipple.

A moan escaped her lips as his fingers found her pussy.

“Now what were you saying?” the dean mused his fingers teasing her bare skin, her hips humped, unthinking, as his hand cupped her mound. “That sitting on me would be something a slut would do?”

It wasn’t quite what Katherine had been going to say, but it was close enough. Especially as she couldn’t remember what she’d been going to say. “Uh,’ she responded. It was hard to do anything else, as the dean’s fingers slipped inside her sopping pussy.

“I suppose it is slutty,” he mused. “You’re naked from the waist up and my hand’s up your little skirt, playing with your pretty little pussy. You like it.”

She did.

“It feels good.”

God, it did, Katherine’s back arched as his fingers pressed against her inner walls. Even better than her own fingers had.

“You like being slutty. You want to be slutty. It feels good to be slutty.”

Oh well, when he put it like that. It did feel good to be slutty.

“You want to be a slut.”

“I-I want to be a slut.” It was hard to say the words, with his fingers curling like that, and finding the spot just there…

“You want to be a slut for me. A nice little slut who lets me play with her pussy and tits. It feels good.”

“I want to be a slut for you. A nice little slut who lets you play with me pussy and tits. It feels good.” It did. Acting all slutty and letting the dean play with her pussy and tits felt so good.

“You’re a slut.”

“I’m a slut.” She had to be. Only a slut would sit half-naked on the lap of a man twice her age, letting him feel her up, letting him play with her pussy and tits.

“You’re not just being slutty” the dean observed. “You’re also doing whatever I tell you to. Which feels so good.”

It did, now that he mentioned it. And his fingers felt so good inside her.

“You really do have great tits,” he mused, cupping one before pulling at its nipple. That felt good. And he’d complimented her. Which was nice.

“But doing what you’re told is more than being slutty. I told you to take off your clothes, show yourself to me. Play with yourself. And you did. That’s what a sex slave would do.”

“I, uh.” That wasn’t right. Was it? It was hard to think. Maybe it was what his hands were doing or maybe it was just… She did feel nice. Warm and floaty, but she wasn’t a slave. Was she?  Slaves did what they were told. She didn’t…

God, his fingers pumping in and out of her pussy felt so good. He twisted her nipple. A delicious jolt ran through her body. Maybe it was easier to just go along with what he said.

“You want to be my sex slave. It will feel so good to be my sex slave.”

“I want to be your sex slave.” It would feel good.

“You are my sex slave.”

“I am your sex slave.” It made sense, really. And it felt so good. If his fingers kept doing that, she’d agree to anything.

“In public, you can act like your old self. No need to get anyone suspicious. As I said, the difference between public and private.”

Had he? Katherine couldn’t remember. She didn’t care either, as long as he kept doing such nice things to her pussy and tits.

“Get up,” he ordered her, removing his fingers from her pussy. “Bend over my desk.”

She did. She was his sex slave, so of course she’d do what he told her.  Not as good as having his fingers in her, but still good.

“I’m gong to fuck you, he said, as Katherine heard the sounds of him dropping his trousers. “And while I do, I’ll tell you what piercings you’re going to get.”

He did, as he fucked her. Katherine didn’t mind. It felt so good to have him fucking her.

He didn’t even have to tell that it felt good.

It just did.

(The end)