The Price of Innocence

Chapter 1

She stretched herself under the bed covers and then curled up, hugging a fluffy pillow to her body as the morning sun streamed through the window. She sighed happily and smiled. Life was good. She couldn't imagine being any happier.

It had been a month since she was married and she felt very fulfilled. At twenty two, Innocence was living life beyond any of her dreams. Everything was perfect.

Her husband, Richard, was twice her age at forty five. But she was not a gold digger. Richard was well off but not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination. And she was sure that he did not view her as a trophy wife. Their relationship might not have been normal by most standards of marriage, but it was firmly grounded in love.

The romance caught them both by surprise. He was a professor at the university where she was a student. For the last two years, she had been his teaching assistant, helping to grade papers and occasionally assisting him in the classroom.

His wife had died three years earlier, leaving him broken-hearted. But he had a daughter to raise so he couldn't allow himself to wallow in self pity. Plus he had responsibilities at the university.

Neither of them was looking for a mate at the time. They worked together well and, for the first year, maintained a purely professional relationship. For that year, her duties consisted of grading tests and papers and proofreading the many articles that he submitted to journals. Innocence was amazed at how brilliant he was.

In their second year of working together, he asked her to help out in the classroom. He was a psychology professor and he needed a model for his "Deviant Sexual Behaviors" class. She immediately jumped at the opportunity. She wanted to become a professor someday too and she thought that this would be good experience for her. It wasn't until she got back to the dorm later that day that she wondered about her decision. What does a model in that kind of class have to do? She found out soon enough.

"Between consenting adults," Richard started the first class of the semester, "there is no such thing as deviance. It only becomes deviant behavior when people who have not consented, or who are not able to legally consent such as minors, are exposed to it. This class will expose you to new, and sometimes shocking, experiences. You are all free to transfer to another course if you believe that your sensibilities will be offended. If you decide to stay, you must sign the consent forms and turn them in at the end of class." Innocence collected them as the students filed out at the end of the fifty minutes.

"For the next two weeks," he started the next lecture, "we will be exploring bondage. This is probably the most widespread of kinky behaviors, although even most participants in it will deny it because of societal norms. Notice that I used the word kinky instead of deviant. Remember that it is only deviant if there is a lack of consent."

"Throughout this semester, my TA will be helping with the demonstrations. Cency, will you come up here?"

Cency was the only nickname that Innocence tolerated. Many people had tried to dub her Inny only to be met with a wilting glare. She was not a bellybutton, she told them caustically. If you wanted to talk to her, you would use either Innocence or Cency.

Innocence went to the front of the room and stood beside the professor. "Let's have a round of applause for my lovely assistant." Innocence blushed at the attention as the students clapped. There were even a few wolf whistles.

Innocence was indeed lovely. She was five feet four inches with blonde hair that hung to the middle of her back. When she was on campus, she always wore it in a ponytail. Her face was gorgeous and she was frequently offered modeling jobs. Her chest was thirty six inches with generous C cup breasts. She had a twenty two inch waist and thirty five inch hips. Many people thought her legs were her best feature although they were covered today by the slacks she was wearing. Actually, there was a raging debate among people who knew her about what her best features were. Some chose legs. Others selected her face. Her ass was a popular choice. And a large percentage thought her breasts defined the feminine ideal.

"We'll start light," Richard continued. "I will put Cency in a relatively simple bondage. Then she will circulate around the room to allow everyone to get a closer look. For the rest of the class, you are to write an essay on what you think it is that fascinates people with bondage."

He moved behind Innocence and gathered her wrists together. Then with two loud clicks, he locked the cuffs on her. "You know what to do, Cency."

"Yes, Dr. Blackwell," she replied.

Innocence spent the rest of the period slowly walking up one row of desks and down the next. She paused frequently to allow the students to view her wrists more clearly.

For some reason that she did not understand, she felt little thrills rushing through her body. She felt tingly all over and could tell that her panties were becoming damp with arousal. That's odd, she thought. Why would I react that way? Then she blushed furiously as she glanced down and saw that her nipples had stiffened and were now visibly poking her polo shirt outward. She would have to select her wardrobe more carefully in the future.

That evening, she graded the papers. Actually, it was up to the professor to assign grades but she helped. They had worked out a system in their prior year. She would circle any spelling or grammar errors and anything that was factually incorrect. Then she would write notes and a recommendation for the grade on a sticky note which she would attach to the paper. Most of the time, the professor would just assign the grade that she had proposed.

She started grading them in the professor's office where he had assigned a desk to her. But as she started reading this batch, she started getting overheated by what she read. She knew that her arousal would eventually become evident and that was too embarrassing to even think about. So she excused herself and took the papers back to the dorm.

The things that people wrote were amazing. One talked about the fantasy of slavery. Another talked about helplessness. Several talked about control over another person. Several of the essays were even about her. "Beautiful blondes should always be bound. It enhances their natural beauty."

One person even talked about her nipples. "Bondage is a game that can be enjoyed by both parties. The dominant partner is aroused by placing the other in helpless or confining situations. The submissive partner is aroused by being controlled or restrained. It was obvious by Innocence's nipples today that she is a natural submissive."

Despite the embarrassment that she felt as she read the essays, Innocence became very aroused. Her hand was shaking as she scribbled her notes on the sticky little note cards. She finally had to set the papers aside and masturbate to calm her nerves. She was surprised at how powerful her orgasm was. Finally she finished the stack and, when she looked back through them, she realized that she had given everyone an A.

In the next class, the demonstration was brief. And thankfully, there was no essay to grade coming out of that class. Her bondage consisted of heavy steel shackles that circled her wrists and ankles. Her ankles were connected together with a heavy iron chain. Around her neck was a heavy steel collar and her wrist shackles were connected to that. Then the professor continued the lecture by talking about the symbolism and practical aspects of collars. Innocence remained shackled and collared as she stood beside the lectern through out the rest of the class.

"Yes, you might compare it to jewelry," said Professor Blackwell at the next class in response to a student's observation. In this class, Richard was demonstrating bondage techniques that did nothing to restrain or limit a person. He had instructed Innocence to wear shorts and he had started by applying a wide metal band around her upper thigh. It did not hobble her or restrict her in any way. In fact, it served no apparent purpose at all. But several of the students commented on how erotic it looked on her. One had even said that this form of bondage was almost like jewelry in that it could accent a body part and draw attention to it.

Cency had also been instructed to wear a polo shirt with no bra. She complied but she was skeptical and a bit concerned. She knew that her nipples were likely to start acting as if they had minds of their own again. Richard's next actions revealed why he wanted her braless.

"Let's explore another form of bondage as art," he said to the class. "Cency, please hold your arms out to your sides."

Again, Innocence complied and then watched in horror as the professor started wrapping rope across her chest. A cord went above her breasts. Another one went below. Rope crisscrossed between her breasts and pulled the two cords together. He kept wrapping her, occasionally brushing against her generous swells with the backs of his fingertips. Again, she was mortified at the way her nipples were betraying her. They were like little bullets beneath her shirt, poking outward and tenting the material.

In the end, her breasts were trapped in a latticework of rope, bulging outward. "Does she look at all restrained?" the professor asked the class. Nobody answered vocally but many heads were shaking. And all eyes seemed to be focused on her bountiful and trapped breasts.

"Exactly," the professor said. "This type of bondage is purely for aesthetic purposes. It is simply an intimate way for a dominant to amuse himself with a submissive."

"We'll have one more demonstration and then you will write your next essay. I want you to comment on each of the three decorative bindings and to come up with a fourth. I want you to be as descriptive as possible. I want to know what it is, how it is done, and what the aesthetic benefits are."

The last demonstration was even more horrifying and humiliating that the one that preceded it. Again, her breasts were the subject of the bondage and again rope was used. But this time, the rope was wound around the base of each breast in a way that squeezed them and compressed them at the base. Richard was no longer merely brushing against her breasts at this point. In order to get the rope in the right places, he was actually grasping them and tugging this way and that. Innocence was blushing furiously at this point.

"This would be so much more effective without the shirt," he whispered to her. She looked at him with wild-eyed terror at his words. "Don't worry. You won't be displayed yet."

This bondage actually got applause from the class. Even the girls were clapping. Innocence looked down and thought she would die of embarrassment at what she saw. Her breasts looked like two large grapefruits that had been glued to her chest. And her nipples were desperately trying to escape from her shirt. That night, she had to masturbate twice as she read and graded the papers.

"This will be our last class on bondage," the professor said to the class a week later. "You will have a test on Thursday. And then next week we'll start on the history of sexual deviance. We'll explore the Greeks and Romans and up to the period of the Inquisition. Cency will be rejoining us after the history lessons. But for now, we have one last form of bondage to investigate. Today, we'll add a bit of discomfort. We'll start with the single sleeve which is frequently referred to as an arm binder. And again, my lovely assistant will help with the demonstration.

Richard held up what looked like a long leather tube with straps dangling from it. He positioned Cency so that everyone would be able to observe him as he worked the sleeve onto her.

Innocence had worn a bulky sweater today, not because it was cold but because she wanted to keep her nipples from exposing her reactions to the bondage. The sweater should keep them hidden even if they did misbehave again. Richard struggled with the bondage gear for several minutes but the sweater kept bunching up and impeding his progress. Finally he stopped.

"You'll need to take off your sweater, Cency," he said matter of factly.

Innocence gasped. "What?!?!?!?"

"Relax," he said. "You have a bra on, don't you?"

"Of course I do," she replied.

"Then it will be just like wearing a bikini. In fact, it will be more modest than most bikinis." Then he waited for her to remove her sweater.

She pleaded with her eyes but it was clear that he expected her to take off the sweater. He did not look cross or impatient. In fact, if anything, he gave her a look of encouragement. Eventually she nodded in resignation and reached down, lifting the hem of the bulky sweater and pulling it over her head.

Once again, the class broke into applause as flesh was exposed. Her bra was pink with a touch of lace at the top but it was not sexy in her mind. It was just a utilitarian garment. And the professor was right, she realized. Her bikinis were much more revealing. But despite that realization, she was blushing furiously. She was not used to exposing any parts of herself unless she was on a beach or modeling for someone.

Richard went back to work. The leather sleeve slid up her slender arms easily this time. Straps fit over her shoulders and he buckled them together. Then he started tightening the laces by beginning at the bottom.

Her hands were encased in what could only be described as a single mitten. She felt him tightening the laces and the sleeve became more and more snug. He worked his way up her forearms and she felt her elbows being forced closer and closer together. He tugged hard on the laces as he worked at her elbows and she felt them touch. She groaned as this pulled her shoulders back, placing strain on them. He continued his way until he got to the top but the additional lacing did not seem to increase the strain much.

He eventually finished his work and slowly turned her so that all of the class could see his handiwork. "How does it feel, Cency?"

"Uncomfortable," she replied. "It feels like my shoulders are being bent in two." She also felt that her panties were damp and wondered how that happened. She truly did not understand why her body reacted the way it was reacting.

"It does great things to her chest, though," called out one of the boys. Several of the girls giggled and nodded in agreement.

Innocence looked down and gasped at what she saw. Her breasts were thrust outward almost as an offering. She was all breast, she thought. And those damnable nipples were prominently tenting out her bra. She shuddered as her orgasm struck her and overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes and groaned at the humiliation she felt. She wished that the earth would swallow her up.