What an Elephant Forgot
A professor tries to read his student's mind and finds another side of him he hadn't suspected.
The worst kind of days are snowy days where you don't get to stay home jerking off.
Today was one of those days. The class was Probability and Decision Making, and the odds were against cancelling the class being worth doing so.
My students have a much easier time of learning when I'm around.
Still, I couldn't help but be distracted by the snow that was visible through the picture window behind the rows of desks; my lecture on birthday problems started drifting towards the old line about no two snowflakes being alike. I asked the class to work out an estimate on how likely it really was, keeping in mind the birthday-like nature of the problem where any snowflake could be similar to any other snowflake.
There was a general scent of lostness in the air, but one or two of the students had pencil to paper almost immediately. One of them was my best student, an otter by the name of Noor, and with a gesture of my trunk I invited him to come and do the work on the board so the others could see.
He didn't quite have it down, but I only needed to breathe a little influence his way before he had a passable formulation up.
(Yes. I have been told that feeding people answers directly is not the best way to ensure they learn. I tell people who say this that they are wrong. The immense boost of confidence from thinking the answer came from their own head does more for their ability than any amount of trying to hammer it in from the outside and more than outweighs the loss in the case of any individual question.)
(Yes. I have been told that this is manipulative. I do not actually care.)
Noor sat down and I dismissed the class, with a purely perfunctory warning to be ready for the upcoming exams--most of my students were likely to pass, and I could smell that none of the ones who were failing cared.
As the otter passed by, I breathed a thought into his head that it might be a good idea for him to stay behind and talk to the teacher today. Everyone else filed by him--none of his friends were in this class--and he came back around to my desk with that shyness young men have when they want to talk to you but don't have anything to say.
He was thickset, but tall enough that he still had the long mustelid shape; a full head taller than me, yet still barely twenty. He had done football in high school; while he'd given it up in college after reading some statistics on concussions and brain damage--he wanted to be an engineer, though hadn't decided what kind--he still had the build associated with the sport.
I imagine you are hearing me going on about this attractive young fellow and thinking the worst of me--imagining that I take advantage of age and power imbalances, that I take advantage of my ability to implant thoughts into the minds of young students, that I take advantage of them, in fact; let me assure you that the thought of seriously doing so never crosses my mind.
That doesn't mean, however, that I don't find...interesting reading in the minds of these young handsome men full of hormones. It may be uncouth to browse those intimate experiences, but honestly it's no worse than reading them later online.
So Noor stood in front of my desk, and I raised my trunk to read deeply into his mind, watching the dreaming expression cross his features as he passed into trance.
The scene that came before me was like those I'd peeked into many times before--the otter's dorm room from his perspective. It was obsessively tidy thanks to his roommate, an orca who was always made himself scarce when Noor had fun planned.
And judging by the bulge in his boxers and the array of sex toys that had been laid out on the bed, the otter had fun planned indeed.
There was a hurried knock at the door, the sound of someone who wanted in quick so as not to be seen, but Noor took his time getting up, adjusting his package, and running a brush through his headfur before receiving his guest.
An attack of dizziness hit me as he opened the door, revealing the concerned face of the elephant I saw in the mirror every morning. When did I visit Noor? I don't remember--
"You can't keep making me do this," my past self said as Noor let him in. I didn't recognize the clothes I had been wearing, a stained wifebeater and faded blue briefs soaked with the precum that flowed from my stiff bulge.
"Don't be ridiculous," Noor said, kneeling in front of me and fishing out my cock. From my vantage point in his mind I could smell the musk of my helpless need. "I can do anything I want to you."
He pulled out his cell phone, pointed the camera up enough to include both my cock and my face, and hit 'record'.
"Oh, professor, please don't make me--" he said, before taking my dick into his maw and putting the phone away.
From inside the otter's mind I could feel my past self's cock throb as he understood the blackmail and let the otter have his way. I focused on the taste and feel of that cock, just as the otter had, closing my eyes in enjoyment...
"Please, professor, this is a public classroom, we shouldn't--"
I opened my eyes to find Noor's cock in my mouth, my trunk wrapped around him, and the camera pointed at me again.
I tried to pull away, but my body wouldn't respond till the otter had put his free paw on my head and roughly finished fucking my face, depositing a thick load on my tongue.
He put his phone and his cock away.
"Swallow," he said.
I swallowed his cum.
"Forget," he said.
I watched my last student leave the room, and idly wondered what it'd be like to read his intimate thoughts.
A thump in the darkness later that night, and I became aware of thunder and the sound of the rain that the prior day's snow had become.
Then another thump, closer.
There's someone in my house, I thought. I didn't keep any weapons; I wondered if I could make an emergency call without alerting the intruder.
The intruder knocked at my door. It wasn't an intimidating knock, nor was it an exploratory one; just a tap-tap like a parent gives as they walk into a teenager's room.
One of my students walked into the room. "Noor?"
As the otter started stripping down, showing off his hefty thighs and rudder, I knew I should send him away, that he shouldn't be here, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to object, or even sit up at all.
I raised my trunk, smelled his thoughts, and my stomach sank.
He had done this before. To me. His memories came in all at once as he pulled off his shirt. Many, many times.
My dick throbbed with fear--I hadn't noticed myself getting hard watching the otter disrobe.
"You can't keep making me do this," I said.
Noor climbed on the bed, taking hold of my feet and lifting them over his shoulders, exposing my tailhole to his thick shaft. "You keep saying that," he said. "But honestly, how could I resist?"
Despite his apparently regular visits, the otter didn't seem to have come prepared--he rolled no condom on the cock he was pressing against my rump, and sought no lube other than a bit of spit when he met resistance.
I hated how comfortable that cock felt as he slid inside my ass, which clearly remembered it better than my mind did. My traitorous cock was dripping pre onto my belly at a furious rate.
Noor smirked as he hilted his length in me and took hold of my shaft, giving it slow strokes. "Anyway, it's not like you don't enjoy it."
He started fucking me, the athletic young otter going deep with steady thrusts that brought me almost immediately to the edge. "Oh, fuck!" I said, my hole tightening around his length as his next thrust forced my climax from me, my cock spattering cum up to my chest.
"And you enjoy it more and more every day, it seems," he said, reaching forward to scoop up my load in his paw.
He pulled his cock out of me, slathered the cum on it, and slid it back inside.
Even though it'd just spent itself, as my own cum was fucked into my ass my cock immediately returned to full arousal with an almost painful need for more.
The otter had stamina; he must've spent an hour working at my hole, milking two more orgasms from me and adding each successively smaller load of cum to the mess leaking from my rump. The dawn light was already coming in through the window by the time he forced my legs back, breathing hard, and plunged in deep, letting out a little high-pitched moan as that dick throbbed inside me, depositing his load alongside the others.
My ass felt so full, like I was holding in an enema--it took a moment before I realized that the blissed-out look on the otter's face as he held himself inside me was from unloading his bladder into me as well.
As he pulled out, I tried to keep my hole closed, but I felt my ass leaking onto my tail a little anyway.
The otter climbed forward to straddle my chest, lifting my trunk aside to rest his dick on my jaw. "Clean it off, professor."
I couldn't see it through my trunk but I knew his dick was filthy with piss and cum and spit and probably residue from my own unprepared ass; I raised my eyes to him in dismay, still somehow unable to speak any word of objection.
The smile on his face was dark as my head raised itself against my will to take that cock into my mouth, suckling it clean even as my body half retched in disgust at what it was doing.
"Attaboy," he said, hopping off me to get back into his clothes, and headed towards the door. "Till next time--forget, and sleep."
The night's rain continued on through my morning classes. I wasn't sure what I'd eaten the night before, but my ass was still aching from letting it all out this morning. I'd skipped breakfast because of it, so I was famished by the time I brought my Calculus III class to a close.
But as I was packing up to head out for lunch, one of my best students came up--an otter by the name of Noor, who'd stayed after the others had left. "Professor Gadj! I need a few minutes of your time," he said, pulling his phone from his pocket.
"My next office hours are tomorrow," I said. "If you'll excuse me, I need to hurry."
"No," he said, turning his phone to show me a video. "You have time for this."
On the screen, I was forcing my cock into Noor's muzzle against his protestations.
I felt ill at the sight, and sank back into my chair as a dim memory returned. Till next time, he'd said.
"You can't keep making me do this," I said, watching my hands move against my will to unbutton my pants and pull out my cock.
Noor's laugh was so smug that I could sense the thought 'actually, that's my line' without even lifting my trunk. He knelt between my legs and switched his phone to 'record'.
"Professor!" he said, around a mouthful of cock. "You can't keep making me do this!"