please, Amanda. And keep your hands there on the desk."
"Uh, okay, Professor." What the hell have I gotten myself into? I gulp and squeeze my eyes shut, strangely exhilarated, but still scared and confused.
His other hand travels down to my ass, rubbing over first one cheek and then the other before dipping into the crack.
My chest tightens as I gasp. It wasn't a rumor. Is he going to fuck me? Please, let him fuck me.
This time his hand comes down on my ass with a slap. "I know what you were doing the other day in class."
I squeal, shock and pain burning through me. "What?"
He spanks me again, this time on the other side. "You will address me as Professor."
"What, Professor?"
"The way you were dressed."
I don't know what to say. Or do. A bit of shame starts to build inside me. I should get up and leave. And then report him. Why am I still bent over his desk with my hands in place?
The pain and heat from his strikes spread, heading directly for my pussy. Pain and pleasure battle for dominance. And I give in. Hadn't I fantasized about just this the night I made the fuckit list? Being a naughty schoolgirl punished by the professor?
Again, his hand comes down on me. I rock against the surface of the desk from the force of it. I'm unable to hold back a cry of pain-pleasure.
He keeps spanking me, saying nothing for a few moments, the only noise in his office my gasps, moans, and cries and the slap of his hand against the tender skin of my ass.
What is wrong with me? Why am I enjoying this? I never thought I was a masochist, but based on the state of my panties, I need to rethink it.
"You kept thrusting your breasts at me, your nipples hard and almost slipping over the top. Those tiny little shorts, your ass cheeks hanging from the back. Then, on the quad in a little sun-dress with your breasts spilling out yet again. Letting that boy touch you for all to see."
The spanking halts and he shoves his hand between my legs, slipping between the fabric and my skin. He grabs my soaked pussy with harsh fingers.
"I don't think you're learning your lesson."
"What lesson, Professor?" My voice is strangled as I rotate my hips, trying to get him to slip inside me.
"I'm not impressed with the way you came dressed to our first meeting. In fact, I'm quite disappointed, especially after I've seen your more recent attire." His fingers pinch my clit and then he pumps inside me twice before pulling away.
I almost sob, wanting him back. Wanting him to fuck me. Hard. To pound into me from behind the way Scott had, and spanking me the whole time.
"I'm sorry, Professor."
"I think I should use something else to really make sure the lesson hits home." He grabs the ruler off his desk.
My eyes widen and I grip the desk harder.
"Lift up your skirt."
"Yes, Professor." I take my hands off the desk and grasp the sides of my skirt, raising the fabric with nervous and slow movements, my heart pounding and ass burning. The fabric of the skirt rubs against my sore flesh, making it sting even more. I wince and keep my eyes on the window covered with maroon curtains, gulping once I have the skirt bunched up around my waist, revealing my cherry-red thong.
He plucks the band of my red thong, snapping it against my sensitive ass. I moan. My nipples harden even more against the desk and my fingers dig around the edge of it.
His hand rubs lightly over the cheeks of my ass, barely grazing the skin. I raise my lips, wanting more contact.
The ruler comes down on my backside with a brutal sting. I cry out, stunned at the pain, but it burns and morphs into a heat shooting straight to my core.
"Your ass is turning such a lovely shade of crimson. It almost matches your thong."
I moan again in response.
The ruler strikes the underside of my ass, incredibly close to my pussy. Then each of the back of my thighs. I tremble and shake, disturbingly close to climax.
A flurry of smacks rains down on my ass and thighs and even occasionally my pussy until I'm
"Uh, okay, Professor." What the hell have I gotten myself into? I gulp and squeeze my eyes shut, strangely exhilarated, but still scared and confused.
His other hand travels down to my ass, rubbing over first one cheek and then the other before dipping into the crack.
My chest tightens as I gasp. It wasn't a rumor. Is he going to fuck me? Please, let him fuck me.
This time his hand comes down on my ass with a slap. "I know what you were doing the other day in class."
I squeal, shock and pain burning through me. "What?"
He spanks me again, this time on the other side. "You will address me as Professor."
"What, Professor?"
"The way you were dressed."
I don't know what to say. Or do. A bit of shame starts to build inside me. I should get up and leave. And then report him. Why am I still bent over his desk with my hands in place?
The pain and heat from his strikes spread, heading directly for my pussy. Pain and pleasure battle for dominance. And I give in. Hadn't I fantasized about just this the night I made the fuckit list? Being a naughty schoolgirl punished by the professor?
Again, his hand comes down on me. I rock against the surface of the desk from the force of it. I'm unable to hold back a cry of pain-pleasure.
He keeps spanking me, saying nothing for a few moments, the only noise in his office my gasps, moans, and cries and the slap of his hand against the tender skin of my ass.
What is wrong with me? Why am I enjoying this? I never thought I was a masochist, but based on the state of my panties, I need to rethink it.
"You kept thrusting your breasts at me, your nipples hard and almost slipping over the top. Those tiny little shorts, your ass cheeks hanging from the back. Then, on the quad in a little sun-dress with your breasts spilling out yet again. Letting that boy touch you for all to see."
The spanking halts and he shoves his hand between my legs, slipping between the fabric and my skin. He grabs my soaked pussy with harsh fingers.
"I don't think you're learning your lesson."
"What lesson, Professor?" My voice is strangled as I rotate my hips, trying to get him to slip inside me.
"I'm not impressed with the way you came dressed to our first meeting. In fact, I'm quite disappointed, especially after I've seen your more recent attire." His fingers pinch my clit and then he pumps inside me twice before pulling away.
I almost sob, wanting him back. Wanting him to fuck me. Hard. To pound into me from behind the way Scott had, and spanking me the whole time.
"I'm sorry, Professor."
"I think I should use something else to really make sure the lesson hits home." He grabs the ruler off his desk.
My eyes widen and I grip the desk harder.
"Lift up your skirt."
"Yes, Professor." I take my hands off the desk and grasp the sides of my skirt, raising the fabric with nervous and slow movements, my heart pounding and ass burning. The fabric of the skirt rubs against my sore flesh, making it sting even more. I wince and keep my eyes on the window covered with maroon curtains, gulping once I have the skirt bunched up around my waist, revealing my cherry-red thong.
He plucks the band of my red thong, snapping it against my sensitive ass. I moan. My nipples harden even more against the desk and my fingers dig around the edge of it.
His hand rubs lightly over the cheeks of my ass, barely grazing the skin. I raise my lips, wanting more contact.
The ruler comes down on my backside with a brutal sting. I cry out, stunned at the pain, but it burns and morphs into a heat shooting straight to my core.
"Your ass is turning such a lovely shade of crimson. It almost matches your thong."
I moan again in response.
The ruler strikes the underside of my ass, incredibly close to my pussy. Then each of the back of my thighs. I tremble and shake, disturbingly close to climax.
A flurry of smacks rains down on my ass and thighs and even occasionally my pussy until I'm
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