Daddy woke me up by peeling the covers back from my body. I instinctively moved toward Daddy’s touch and set my foggy head on Daddy’s thigh. I nuzzled him as he rubbed the ass he had spanked, cropped and switched last night. I moaned as his massage revived the muscle ache in my right glute. I could smell the musk from his crotch and I grunted as my pussy began to tingle. Daddy’s skin against mine, the smell of my pussy dried in the peppercorns of his hairs, is now hard-wired in my DNA.

I could hear the smile in his voice. “Time to get up, Goofy. Your observation lesson is today and you have to get ready.”

I hate observation lessons. Most of the year I am left on my own to teach my class of adults, but a few times of year my supervisor sits in as part of my yearly performance review. It makes the students nervous and I always feel a little on edge when they come up. I groaned and edged away from Daddy as my mind reviewed my plan for today.

“Yes, Sir,” I grumbled and gingerly rolled over to prepare for getting up. After the beating yesterday, I had to anticipate every move to minimize the sting. Daddy chuckled at my contortions and went into the bathroom to turn on the shower for me.

When I got out of the shower, I saw that Daddy had laid out my clothes for me: a cute button-up blouse with puff sleeves and an A-line skirt. He had also lain out some strappy shoes and a black thong. I toweled off and dressed slowly. As I zipped up the skirt and smoothed it down over my ass, I felt the texture of the welts under the fabric. I lifted up the skirt to inspect the inflamed stripes and admired the purplish hue they were taking on. I walked carefully down the stairs, trying in vain to minimize the jiggle and reverberations in my legs, hips and ass.

Daddy was sitting in the living room, his breakfast sitting on the arm of the couch. My breakfast was sitting on the counter in the kitchen and I took my place on my knees in front of my Daddy. My skirt spread out behind me. Daddy was stroking his magnificent cock slowly and I watched his hand move slowly up and down the shaft. A dewdrop of precum at the slit of the head threatened to spill. I looked into Daddy’s inky eyes. He nodded slightly and I licked the luscious drop away. It was replaced by another perfect creamy pearl and I lapped at it. I moved my mouth down the shaft and settled in to feast on my breakfast of Daddy’s Dick as Daddy tucked into his eggs and sausage. I burrowed into Daddy’s crotch as I opened my throat to take Daddy’s thick black cock deeper inside my mouth. Daddy moaned and I hoped it was in appreciation on my work.

Daddy handed me my book bag and kissed me goodbye. “Make me proud, Babygirl,” he told me as he gently closed the car door. As usual, I felt an absence as soon as he drew his face away from mine.

“I will, Daddy,” I said. I focused on the lesson as I drove to the college. I greeted the early arrivals to my class and made small talk after the weekend and tried to keep calm in anticipation of my supervisor’s arrival.

The lesson flowed very well as Daddy’s admonition rang in my memory. My students were engaged and working hard when my supervisor, Samantha, walked in and sat quietly in the back of the room. I nodded and smiled, signaling to her that I saw her. I felt an electrical pulse that I couldn’t explain a moment later, but I continued working with my students. I felt the pulse again a few moments later and looked around for the source. I glanced over at Samantha, who was writing notes on her paper to make sure my distraction wasn’t counting against me in my evaluation.

“Ms, Krys?” Juan Pablo’s voice brought me back to the present. He indicated on his worksheet and I saw where he had made an error. Just then I heard Daddy clearing his throat. All heads turned to the back of the room. My body felt magnetized and I felt a compulsion to run to him. My heart began to beat wildly and I felt a flush in my neck. My nipples automatically hardened and my clit began to tingle.

“Master,” I whispered under my breath at the sight of my Daddy standing at the back of the room. In his right hand was a rectangular case I had never seen before. My mind was trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Daddy had never visited me in class before. He nodded at me and made a beeline to Samantha. She rose and spoke with him in a hushed tone. I scrambled to help Juan Pablo, while still keeping an eye on what my Daddy and Samantha were discussing. She was nodding enthusiastically and shooting sidelong glances at me.

“By all means,” I finally heard her say and she shook Daddy’s hand. She then turned to the class and said, “I’d like your attention please. We have a very special guest today who has a brief presentation for you. I expect you will afford him your full attention and respect. Thank you.” She sat down, set her pen aside and folder her hands on the desk. “Mr.….uh, Sir. Please. Whenever you are ready.”

Daddy signaled to me that I should join him at the front of the room. I self-consciously smoothed my skirt at my side and joined him. He set the strange case on a side table and then grabbed a dry erase marker from the tray. I watched with growing dread as he wrote in block letters on the board, “CORPORAL PUNISHMENT” He winked at me and I felt the blood drain from my face and gather in my clit. He spoke.

“Who can tell me what these words mean?” he addressed my class. Some hands shot up and he called on Ivanka, my student from Russia.

“It mean—“she looked at me tentatively. I nodded encouragement. “It mean ven teacher finds problems with student, teacher, err…correct that student. She punish student, err, she hit student to make him good student.”

“Very good, Ivanka,” I said under my breath. I looked at Daddy with panicked eyes.

“That’s excellent,” Daddy told her. “Can anyone give me examples of what a teacher might use to correct an errant student?” More hands went up.

“A ruler,” said Marcos.

“Her hand?” asked shy Ming

“A wooden paddle!” Veronica answered.

Daddy looked at her, pleased. He turned to the case and opened the clasp. From the case he extracted a heavy wooden paddle I had never seen before. It was a deep, dark color with holes, about 16 inches long. I had emailed a picture to Daddy weeks ago on my wish list of presents I wanted for my birthday.

Daddy hadn’t said anything at the time.

“And can anyone tell me if corporal punishment is still legal in this country?” No one ventured an answer. “No? Well, perhaps your teacher knows the answer. Krystenah?” He turned to me, a smile tickling at the sides of his mouth.

“Yes, Sir. Corporal punishment is still allowed in some states,” I answered.

“Great,” he said and set the paddle on the side table next to the case. “And what are some reasons you can think of that a student might be paddled in school?” he asked the class. He handed me the dry erase marker and I wrote the students’ answers on the board as they volunteered them. After a few minutes I had written:

NOT PAYING ATTENTION

DISRESPECTING THE TEACHER

DISRESPECTING THE RULES OF THE SCHOOL

PROFANITY

VIOLATION OF DRESS CODE

Daddy reviewed the list and praised the students for their contributions. He began to walk through the rows. “The reason I am here today is that while Krystenah is your teacher and I know she tries to do her very best for you, I am her teacher and when she fails in her tasks, I have to punish her. It’s part of what I have found works as motivation for her to be a better servant at home and therefore a better employee," he nodded at Samantha, who nodded back, "and better person overall.”

He returned to the front of the class. “Now, I know this might be a little uncomfortable for you, but I want to assure you that you are free to be completely honest with me.” The class was mesmerized by his delivery. Daddy commands and gets respect when he speaks, and it made me feel very proud to stand beside him in class like this. “Can you give me any instances when your teacher has not performed as well as she should as someone entrusted with your education and improvement?” To my horror, hands shot up.

Daddy called on Salvador. “Sir last week Ms. Krystenah was 2 minutes late to the class. She is usually on time, but she was late that day and we had to start class a little late because of that.” Daddy looked at me and I turned to write Salvador’s answer on the board: LATE TO CLASS.

“Very good. And you?” Daddy called on Clarence.

“Sir, the other day Ms. Krystenah used a curse in the class. She was talking to another teacher and I heard her say something. We weren’t in session, but as I understand the rules, she should not be using this language here.”

I wrote on the board: PROFANITY. By the end of the question and answer session I saw where I had fallen short in several areas. I felt embarrassed having my shortcomings listed on the board in front of Samantha, who had commenced taking copious notes since Daddy’s presentation had begun. My heart was in my throat as Daddy continued his lesson.

“Well, as I am sure you all can see, my Babygirl has missed the mark on several occasions. She has let you down and, more importantly, she has let me down. And I am sure you will agree that she needs to be corrected. Do you agree that since these infractions took place in this classroom that the punishment should be meted out here, as well?” There were murmurs of assent in the classroom.

“Mr., uh, Sir? A word?” I heard Samantha say. She and Daddy spoke for a moment, but instead of her calling off the “demonstration”, she shook Daddy’s hand and he walked back to where I was standing.

“Babygirl, please bend over the desk to accept your paddling,” he told me. He leaned over and stroked my back. He whispered in my ear, “You know this is for your own good, don’t you, Goofy?”

“Yes, Sir,” I said, reassured that it was.

“But I’m not going to go easy on you just because you’re with your students. You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course, Daddy,” I choked.

“But your supervisor told me that if you perform well, she will consider the lesson a success despite your less than stellar performance here of late. This paddling is part one of your punishment, Honey. You still have to answer to me at home for not reporting these infractions in a timely matter. Ready?”

Before the realization could fully settle in my mind, I felt the weight of the paddle against my skirt. The thong Daddy had selected would offer no protection. Daddy raised the paddle.

The blow was heavy and sounded like a shot in the classroom. He swung again. With the second blow, the pain from the welts was fully realized and I felt hot tears spring to my eyes. Daddy swung again and I pitched forward slightly. Daddy grabbed me around the waist and began beating my ass with short, hard strokes. I could hear background noises from my students as I lost any hope of composure. He smoothed the skirt down over my hips and swung again and again. The paddling seemed to go on forever. When I thought he would stop at ten, he gave me 15 and then 16 and then…

Howling and blubbering, Daddy pulled me into his arms. I cried and cried as he stroked my hair and shushed me. “You need to do better,” he whispered in my ear. I nodded wordlessly. The applause from the students was drowned out by the bell which signaled the end of session. I felt Daddy pulling me by my wrist out into the hallway and through the throngs of students.

When he pulled me into the teacher’s lounge, he took my face in his hands and kissed me deeply. I sighed around his tongue as it pressed deeper into my mouth and wrapped itself around mine. I pressed my body into his and felt his erection pressing into me. I reached down to squeeze it, comforted by its thick, throbbing form in my palm. He grabbed me and set me as gently as he could on a table. I winced at the pain as my ass made contact with the table, but as Daddy pressed my knees open, the pain was joined with an excitement that I almost couldn’t contain.

Daddy lowered his pants and revealed his rock hard cock. He pushed the floss of the thong away from the opening to the pussy he owns and thrust himself inside me. I grabbed his hips and pressed him into me. As he fucked his slut’s pussy, the string from the thong rubbed against my asshole, reminding me that all of my body and all of my behavior and all that I am are under his control.

“Yes!” I screamed as I felt his heavy balls slap my perineum and asshole. I was hurting, but I was cresting. “Please let me cum, Master! Please, Teacher, Please!” I screamed, dizzy and hungry for release.

“Cum, my punished bitch," he told me and I obeyed in a rush of gratified bliss.