"Heather, you can't hide yourself behind your hands. I want you to remember this moment. I want you to feel how embarrassed and ashamed you are that you have to resort to this in order to improve yourself. I want you to know that I see every inch of your body and that I'm going to enjoy having you over my knee for a spanking. Do you feel all of that, Heather? Do you feel your shame?"
Tears formed in her eyes. "Yes, Professor."
"Then you are learning already. Now, place yourself over my lap." Heather stood beside him and for a moment her pussy was inches from his gaze. She bent over and laid in his lap. "Place your hands flat on the floor. Your toes should be on the floor at all times. If your hands or feet rise from the floor we will start over. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Professor."
The Professor brushed his hand across the backs of her thighs then over the perfectly rounded cheeks of her stunning ass. This was a student he would enjoy tutoring. He raised his hand in the air and held it there. He felt Heather brace for the inevitable. Smack! It took a moment for the impact to register with her but when it did she whimpered quietly. By the fifth smack she was screaming into her closed mouth and wiggling in his lap. He increased the power of his blows and on the eighth stroke Heather lifted one of her feet off the floor as she screamed out loud.
"You were told to keep you feet on the floor, Heather. Now we will start again." The Professor alternated his strokes to the left and right cheeks of her ass and watched closely as her perfect skin changed from lilly white to faint pink to light red. After twenty spanks he stopped and could her her quietly crying. He was well aware of the effects of his work and knew she was crying more for her shame than for the pain of the spanking. Excellent.
"You may stand up now," he informed her.
Heather stood up and turned to retrieve her clothing. "Not yet. You still have more discipline coming," the Professor informed her. "I want you to bend over the end of the sofa. Position your hips on the arm of the sofa so your buttocks are raised high. Stretch your arms out in front of you and reach as far along the sofa as you can." Heather obeyed and waited on the sofa with her ass raised in a obscenely provocative position.
The Professor opened a drawer and removed a narrow wooden paddle. It was just over a foot long and made of dark, heavy hardwood and polished to a glossy finish. He showed it to Heather. "I'm going to assess your tolerance of pain. This implement will hurt far more than my hand did. You might think of my hand as a warm-up that prepares you for the real discipline you will receive. You are permitted cry out when receiving this implement but you may not utter a word. That is, you are permitted to make sounds but not to speak. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Professor," she answered.
He moved behind her and told her to look straight ahead so she could not see when the blows were coming. Then he added to her humiliation. "Spread your legs wide apart," he instructed her.
Heather knew that spreading her legs would give him a clear view of her pussy from the most intimate angle. She reluctantly opened her legs to a normal width.
"Wider," he ordered.
She blushed as she placed her feet as far apart as they would go. Again she felt shame wash over her as she realized her anus was also exposed to his full view, and since she had no way to see him he was free to inspect her as closely as he wanted. She felt her sphincter contracting rhythmically. The Professor smiled with satisfaction.
Crack! Heather shrieked. She had no idea something could sting that much. Her feet flew from the floor and she quickly stuck them back into position. Crack! Crack! Crack! She screamed into the sofa cushion and slapped her hands against it. Dark red bands formed on her buttocks. After a dozen applications of the slim paddle the Professor slipped it back into the drawer and sat down in his overstuffed chair. He crossed his legs and watched Heather catch her breath and regain some of her composure while still in position over the end of the sofa. Eventually he informed her that she could stand up.
Heather stood directly in front of him and brushed the tears from her eyes. The Professor remained silent. She could tell from his relaxed demeanor and comfortable position in his chair that her discipline session was complete. She swallowed hard and stole a quick glance at this crotch which was obscured by his crossed legs. With a dry mouth she asked, "Do I...should I pay you now?"
The Professor allowed a long silence to hang in the air. He smiled. "This first session is a consultation. I don't charge for that. You may get dressed now and leave. You have your study instructions and I will be monitoring your grades and test scores. When I determine you are in need of another session I will send you a text message. It is up to you whether you avail yourself of my continued service. Good evening, Heather." He stood up and left the room.
Heather scrambled into her clothes and let herself out of the condo. On the mirrored wall of the elevator she could see her mascara had run and she hurried to fix her makeup and disheveled hair.
Once home, she proceeded to study as directed for the full three hours that was stipulated. That surprised her, but she wasn't sure why. Just before she went to bed for the night she checked her rear end in the bedroom mirror. It was still red and warm but not terribly sore. Her next surprise came when she got under the covers of her bed. The warm afterglow of her spanking and the memory of being naked in front of the Professor aroused her in a completely unexpected way. She masturbated to a fantastically powerful orgasm and fell into a deep, satisfied sleep.
A Second Chance
The next week went very well for Heather. She studied properly and noticed it was having an affect on her work. In two of her classes the teacher presented small quizzes which had only a minor impact on her overall grades but she was delighted that she obtained perfect marks on both of them. Her confidence was boosted and she was happy and grateful for her session with the Professor.
An important exam loomed at the end of the week and Heather used all of her new-found self-discipline to prepare. She felt confident she would achieve an excellent grade. However, she made one critical error. She set her alarm clock improperly and slept right through the early morning exam. When she awoke she was horrified to find the time for the exam had passed. She flew from her bed, dressed and ran to the office of the professor who conducted the exam. Dr. Kelly had a reputation as a classic, old school, hard ass who went by the book. She pleaded with him to allow her an opportunity to have a second chance at doing the exam. Not surprisingly, he refused. The failing grade on the exam ensured Heather would fail the course, there was no way to avoid it.
She spent the rest of the day in tears and made plans to finish her semester and drop out with the hope of perhaps returning to college in a year or two when her circumstances were different. That evening she received a text message from the Professor. It said;
I am aware of what happened today. Come see me at 9PM, sharp.
Heather's first reaction was to blow off the appointment. What was done was done and more discipline from the Professor was not going to change anything. However, after she considered that, she wondered why he would ask her to have a session if there was nothing he could do to help her. Once again, she found herself in a desperate situation where she saw nothing to lose by visiting the Professor to find out what he had to say.
She arrived at his condo early and waited in the hallway so she could knock on his door at the stroke of 9 PM. He answered the door dressed just the way he was on her first visit. He ushered her into the living room and had her sit on the sofa. Before he could begin Heather told him she was leaving school. "Professor, I didn't come here tonight for a session of discipline. I will be leaving school for awhile so my study habits have become moot, I'm afraid."
The Professor was not persuaded by her remarks. "Heather, I am aware of what happened today. Although the exam grades are not yet posted online, the list of students who were absent from the exam was posted. There was only one name and it was yours. Missing an exam is inexcusable."
"I know, Professor. It was incredibly stupid of me. I spoke to Dr. Kelly and he insisted that I cannot take the exam now and that has sealed my fate. I will have to drop out."
Again, the Professor was not persuaded. He gave Heather a steady look and slowly asked, "What if I could intervene and secure you the opportunity to take the exam? Would you be willing to be severely disciplined in exchange for that?"
Heather didn't know how to answer. She didn't even think about what 'severe discipline' would mean; she thought about the chance to take the exam. "How would you do that?" she asked.
"That is my concern. My question to you is, would you accept the extra discipline that you obviously need if I were to get you a second chance?" he asked.
"Yes! Yes, I would, Professor," came her quick answer.
The Professor removed his mobile phone from his pocket and dialed. Heather could only hear one side of the conversation, "Dr. Kelly, how are you? I'm calling about one of your students, Heather Chelsea. She missed an exam today and I'm wondering if you would allow her a second opportunity to take it." There was a long pause. "Yes, I understand. But she is under my tutelage and has agreed to a special session in order to make amends and to ensure it won't happen in the future. Yes. That is correct. Thank you very much Dr. Kelly, I assure you she will be there on Monday. Good night to you too." He slipped the phone back into his pocket and gave Heather a knowing smile. "Now, young lady, it's time for you to pay the price for your second chance."
Heather was torn between happiness that her future was suddenly much brighter, and the feeling in the pit of her stomach that she was now obligated to surrender herself to the severe discipline to which she agreed.
The Professor took his time telling her what was in store for her. But first he told her to remove all of her clothes and stand in front of him. When she did he deliberately looked her up and down slowly so she could feel his eyes on her. "You will not be receiving an over the knee spanking tonight. You also will not get the small paddle you experienced before. Those are not sufficient for what you have done."
Heather felt a chill run through her. Goosebumps formed and she felt her legs trembling. The Professor continued. "I'm going to take you into a different room. It's a room most students never need to see. It contains many devices and implements that are designed to make girls remember to wake up on time for exams. In your case, I will administer a leather strap to your ass. It's quite thick and menacing, actually. Sometimes I find it so heavy I have to rest my arm before completing a session. I won't lie to you, Heather; it's going to hurt more than you can imagine."
Tears filled Heather's eyes. Her knees began to visibly shake.
"In fact, you're going to receive it with wet buttocks. You see, a wet strapping is far more intense. And that's what you're getting tonight, Heather, a wet strapping with the leather." He stood up and directed her into a bedroom that contained no bed but several pieces of unusual furniture. There was a padded bench, a throne chair, something that reminded Heather of a sawhorse in her Dad's garage workshop and two large timbers formed into an X and leaned against the wall at a slight angle. The room was a dungeon and it hid many insidious features to which Heather was oblivious.
"You will be fastened to this cross, Heather. Your wrists and ankles will be secured and you will remain there for the duration of your discipline session. Now step up to the cross and place your arms and legs into position."
The cross formed a broad X and required her legs to be spread far apart. The Professor closed metal clamps around her slim ankles and wrists and locked her into a vulnerable and submissive position. The slight forward angle ensured the Professor a clear view of her small, shaved pussy. Fear tore through her mind and body as she realized how trapped she was. She thought about screaming. As if he could read her mind, the Professor said, "You are permitted to scream as loud as you like in here. If you examine the walls, floor and ceiling you can see they are covered in thick acoustic insulation. Sound does not escape this room so you may scream with abandon during the session."
She felt a lump in her throat so thick it made breathing difficult. The Professor removed a black strap from a hook on the wall and showed it to Heather. It was nearly three feet in length and hung with only a slight bend owing to its thickness and rigidity. "Other girls have nicknamed this strap, Lucifer," he said with a grin. They've learned that if they really screw up in a class they'll '
have Lucifer to pay
,'" he said, with the only chuckle she ever heard from him.
"Brace yourself," he said. Without any other warning he laid the strap hard across both cheeks of her tender ass. It landed like an electric shock and Heather tried to scream as loud as she could but no sound came out. He administered a second stroke that pressed her forward into the timbers of the cross and send a shockwave through her body. Heather broke into immediate tears and wailed with abandon. "It hurts! It hurts!" was all she could think to yell.