Spanked by the Professor (Rough Discipline Play, Spanking Erotica‪)‬

Katie thinks she's got it all figured out in her final year of college, that is, until she meets her new professor. When she shows up a little late, Mr. Dylan is more than a little peeved and they're both more than a little turned on. After she hears him moaning her name in his office, she's apt to dress to impress but Dylan's not ready to let her get away with what she's heard!

Warning: This 8,000 word adult story features a young lady so attracted to her professor that she listens to him pleasuring himself while publicly masturbating in a secluded hallway, a brief, but hot, hard spanking and a professor that can barely keep himself from exploding prematurely as he sinks so deep that Katie will never forget her punishment.

Excerpt:

Katie got up, slowly, afraid of what would happen.

Punishment. Spanking. He’s going to spank me for listening to him. Oh no.
Dylan smacked the desk with his meter stick, tapping it on opposite ends to indicate something.

“Hands here,” he said. “Hurry up, Katherine. Don’t make me more upset than I already am.”

Katie stepped up to the desk. She put her hands on it. Everything went silent except for the shallow hum of the professor’s desktop computer fan. He stood behind her, seemingly breathless, like a ghost, like a demon, unmoving, unwavering.

She shivered as he pulled up her fitted skirt, the cool air inside the room and the peel of fabric from her skin enough to tell her what he aimed to do. It bunched at her waist, leaving her cheeks bared. She’d felt so sexy dressed like this, with garters, stockings and heels that she’d pulled on a lacey, hip hugging pair of panties that barely covered anything.

Dylan didn’t touch them, but she hoped that he would, that he would push the lacey underwear down and reveal her dripping wet flower, petals alive and dewy, aching to be touched.

Instead, he waited, standing behind her so silently, so still, that if she hadn’t known better she would’ve thought he’d left the room. Katie waited with her palms flat against the edge of the desk, hoping for a command, begging internally for just a word.

Mercy.

The meter stick cracked thunder as he struck her bottom, making her yelp. The pain shot into her, a tingling tickle that became a roaring rollercoaster within a second. Her ass had rippled, she was sure of it. He’d hit her so hard that her body had quivered, like time-lapse photography of a punch to the face.

When he hit her the second time, Katie tried not to flinch, tried not to move or yelp or scream or even whimper, but her body couldn’t stay silent. She jumped, she flinched, she twitched. The third and fourth hits came simultaneously, a great big smack across the ass.

Katie screamed, despite her best efforts to keep quiet.

“Relax, Katie,” he said. “It’ll be easier. Rest your arms on the table, push that pretty ass out.”

She obeyed, leaning forward so that her forearms rested against the cool desk. This way, her ass thrust out, her legs straight and her back arched. The heels made sure of that.

Dylan smacked her again, and this time, despite the yelp, a hot, hot, heat threaded through her. The skin on her bottom felt raw and bruised, getting worse every time he hit her, but she could finally hear him behind her, his breaths wild and ragged, bursting out of him like some new beast instead of the cold professor she knew.

He hit her again, but this time his hand connected with her flesh. Katie moaned as he grabbed her skin, his fingertips digging in as he groped her. She wanted more, needed it, but couldn’t bring herself to ask, couldn’t utter the words.

He pressed the meter stick against her, the angled corner of one end pushing up against her pounding slit. She mewled as he pressed the thinner edge against her, wedging her panties against her c**t as he sawed it back and forth.

“Is this what you did when you heard me, Katherine?” he said.