After a long weekend, thinking about our previous encounter, I wonder if you will return to class ashamed, return to your shy state, come in bolder than ever?
I prepare today's lesson. We have moved away from the classic poets and are going to focus on 20th Century Women poets. I have a week of assigning Plath and Sexton and Olds in my plan. I think to myself how ironic it is that I am teaching about all these self-assured, strong women, while playing my own little master/pet game with one of my college students. I smile to myself, not wavering from my other lesson, the one just for you.
You arrive with the other students, not apparently dressed in as sexy a way as you were on Friday. You have on a turtle-neck sweater, blue jeans, small ankle high black boots. I wonder if you are defying me, tempting me for punishment. I let class progress as normal, handing back the previous assignments to each student. I see you flash me a quick glance as I pass, but I deflect it. I sit down at my desk, watching everyone put away their books and paper, hustling to leave class. I see you glance at my comments, wondering how you will react as I left no special instructions this time. I'm testing you.
Then end of the school day arrives and I'm about to leave when I hear a soft knock on the door, then the door cracks open, but no one enters.
"Who is it?"
"Me...." I hear your voice. "Sir."
"Come in.....lock the door behind you."
You slowly enter the room, close the door quietly behind you, click the latch in place. It's very quiet in the room. I feign disinterest, still shuffling over my papers, still not looking up at you, but I hear you walking slowly across the room until you are standing in front of my desk.
I slowly look up at you, letting my eyes scan your body. I see your legs, still in the blue jeans from earlier as you stand up against my desk, facing me. I rise, but am surprised, you are not wearing the demure sweater from before. You are wearing an a-shirt, coarsely known as a "wife-beater." It barely contains your ample breasts and, by the evidence of the shape of your thick nipples poking against the nearly see-through fabric, you aren't wearing a bra. I keep scanning up, even though I want to linger gazing at your tits, until I see your face, made up, shining lipstick, deep smoky eyes, hair pulled back into a tight bun. You keep you eyes down to the desk, not meeting my gaze.
"So, this is for me?"
"Where did you change into this outfit?"
"Sir. After my last class, I went to my car and took off my sweater, put up my hair, and put on this makeup." Your voice is quiet, a bit shaky.
"Why didn't you dress like this all day?"
You pause, trembling a bit, seeming to struggle over what to say, trying to get just the right words. "I....I was ashamed to be seen like this...by everyone."
I smack my hand, palm flat, on my desk loudly, the sound echoing in the quiet classroom. You jump as if shocked by electricity. "I....want you....to be....seen." I let my words sit in the silence a bit, watching you squirm. "You know this, don't you?"
I walk slowly around the desk, standing beside you, I grab the back of your head, turning your face to look at me, holding you, "You know....I will have to punish you now....don't you?" I let your head go and it snaps back to look down.
"Yes....I know....I deserve it."
Walking back around my desk, I sit down, pull out a ring of keys. I unlock the bottom drawer of my desk. You try to peer from the corner of your eyes, but you just can't see what's inside. You hear the cold sound of metal against metal, then hear the drawer close, re-locked. I stand up again, walk around you, next to you again. I lean in close, whispering in your ear, "You've been a....." you jump a bit as you feel cool metal on your wrist, then a clicking sound, handcuffs...shit..handcuffs, "...a bad girl." Then your other wrist feels the same kiss of cool steel. Your breathing rises a bit, your heart beating in your chest at the realization that I have your hands cuffed behind your back.
Looping my finger under the chain between the cuffs I raise them slightly, causing a bit of tension in your arms. You move back a bit.
I smile, "very good, this should do nicely." I pull you by the cuffs until you are standing in the center of the room. I walk around in front of you, unbutton your jeans, pull them down off your hips, noticing with a raised eyebrow that you have no panties on.
Looking at you, "You have been a bad girl, haven't you?"
Your voice trembling. "I have....I have, sir."
I pull your jeans to your ankles and you quickly step out of them. You feel strange, vulnerable, no pants, barely in a top, in the center of my classroom.
I walk back to my desk, pull a ruler from the top drawer. I smack it against my palm, walk back over to you. "How many classes did you wear that sweater in today?"
I smack your ass hard with the ruler, "One." A red welt immediately begins warming your cheeks where the ruler hit.
Your ass is getting a nice rosy hue and I know that it must be stinging and warm. I caress it, feeling the warmth against my palm, my touch, smooth and gentle in contrast with the sharp impact of the ruler.
Without saying a word, I grab the cuff chains again, dragging you over to the first row of desks, pushing you until the front of your legs bumps up against the wooden edge, then roughly bending you over the surface. You imagine the boy who usually sits there and what he might be thinking if he saw you now, nearly naked, your tits spilling out of your top, your ass and pussy exposed to the world as you are bent over this desk. You hear a shuffling of material, the clinking of my buckle. Before you have time to take it all in, you feel the insistent pressure of my cock-head pushing between the slick folds of your pussy. Oh, God, it's happening, you think, as you feel my enter you.
I hold the chain of your handcuffs as leverage, sliding into you all the way to my balls. You hear the sound of the desk legs, scraping against the floor as I begin thrusting into you, using you, fucking your tight pussy. You feel like my fuck-toy, like my slut....and.....you...secretly love it. I'm fucking you in long, fast strokes, taking you fully, my balls slapping against your pussy with each down-stroke. I am grunting, and in turn, you are moaning, gasping, barely able to stay on the small surface of the desktop as I roughly fuck you. Just 4 hours ago, you were sitting in my class, listening to learned discussions about feminism and the new age, and now you are getting fucked and spanked while handcuffed by your professor.
I am grunting now, like an animal, taking you the way I want, taking your for my pleasure. I don't hold back, fucking you as hard and fast as I want. Before long, you feel me tense up, increasing, then feel the warmth of my cum spurting into your hungry pussy. You push back against me, using what little control you have to take me as deep as possible, feeling my seed pulse into you.
Finally, my orgasm subsides. You wish you could touch yourself, wanting to cum so badly, knowing you will touch yourself later, knowing you will admit it to me, knowing it will lead to more punishment.....punishment you crave.
I let my cock slip out of you, my cum oozing down your leg. I dry my cum and your pussy juice from my cock on your jeans, tucking myself back into my pants, buckling up. I unlock the cuffs, slide them into my pocket. You are still draped across the desk, fucked, dripping cum, as I walk out and back into my normal, everyday life.
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<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/taboo/your-reward-part-3.aspx">Your Reward: Part 3</a>