Thrashing against herself, her ass bobbed up and down in desperate need of relief, and suddenly, from the doorway, a voice boomed out against the wall of her near-orgasm.
"Miss Rogers, you filthy little girl!"
Frozen in horror and on the brink of massive climax, ass high and breasts pressed against the slippery wooden desk, she peered round and stared into the face of Mr. Williams!
He regarded her coolly, taking in the glorious sight of her dripping hand thrust into her glistening hole, her little anus on display, and her sopping knickers round her knees.
Loosening his tie, he walked towards her.
"I can see you need some discipline, young lady..."
"Oh, Willy... I mean... Mr. Williams, I'm so..."
"Naughty! Look at you, knickers round your knees, bare bottom in the air. Filthy, naughty girl!"
"Please, Mr. Williams, I'm sorry, I..." Naomi was blushing horribly, even deeper red blooming through her excited flush. She couldn't move.
Mr. Williams stood by her shoulder as she stared up sideways at him, half naked on his desk. He regarded her as he rolled up his sleeves.
"Look at you, you little trollop. The minister's daughter with her breasts hanging out and her juices all... over... my... desk." He put his hands on his hips.
"You may have finished your exams, Miss Rogers, but school has only ended when the bell rings. Until then, you're mine to do with as I see fit. And you, young lady, need a fitting punishment."
"Oh, please, Willy... Mr. Williams, I'll clean your desk up. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" She began to cry.
"It's too late for tears, you little hussy," said Mr. Williams, sternly. "And you're damned right, you will clean my desk up." He swung his hand under her chin and grabbed the bunched-up vest. "With your tongue."
She gasped.
"After your punishment."
She stared at him, rivulets of shining tears sliding down her red face, more juices between her legs sliding down her hand, still deep inside her pussy. Under his steely gaze, not at all like her fantasies, this abject horror of being truly caught was somehow keeping her on the brink of a heavy orgasm.
"The fact is, Miss Rogers, you have been teasing me all term. Don't think I haven't noticed the scent of your naughty pussy hanging in the air as you walk past me after class. Don't think I haven't noticed your juices all over your chair when everybody has left, your heat still baking your smell in. I know you haven't been wearing a bra so I can see your hard nipples taunting me through your vest and shirt. You're a bad girl, and I'm going to teach you the biggest lesson of your life."
"Please, sir, don't..."
"Don't what? Don't give you what you need? Young lady, every pupil at this school should leave prepared for life. And you need a harder lesson than the others, which I am going to give to you right now."
"Sir, no! Please!"
"What punishment do you think ought to fit a little slut like you? Leaving your fluids over school property, taunting the teacher day in, day out, with the sight of your breasts through thin fabric? And now, smearing your wetness all over my antique desk? What punishment could possibly fit such naughty behaviour?"
She stared up at him, blue eyes overflowing with tears, and her wet, pink lips forming a little circle like her pussy before her fingers plunged into it.
"I... I don't know, sir."
"Really? On my antique desk on all fours with your bare bottom in the air, and you can't think what punishment might be fitting?"
"Oh sir! Not the cane! No!" She was horrified, her fingers popping out of her tightness with a squelch.
"Get those naughty fingers back in that pussy, young lady!"
Quickly, she slid them back in, horrified at her lusty reactions to this terrible change in her afternoon.
"I don't believe in using objects where my own flesh will do a better job," Mr. Williams told her. He pressed the small of her back down, causing her to raise her pert ass. Still holding onto her bunched vest with his left hand, and smoothing his right hand over her cheeks, one by one, he lowered his voice to a whisper.
"Face the window, Miss Rogers. Do not call out. If you agree to the lesson I am going to teach you, nod once. If you do not, get off my desk, leave your knickers, and get out. Do you agree?"
Naomi wriggled her fingers inside her aching pussy. Oh god, she wanted this. This was not at all what she imagined. But... oh god!
She nodded over and over, furiously.
SLAP! She gasped.
"I said, nod once, young lady. Do as you're told!"
SLAP!
She nodded once, the whole of her upper body in agreement. Mr. Williams went back to running his hand over each buttock, making figure-of-eight patterns across her firm expanses. He began to run his fingers to the tops of her thighs, sliding a little between them to dabble his fingers in her juices. He never quite touched her hand, still two fingers knuckle-deep inside herself, nor did he run his fingers up her crack. But she wanted it. She wriggled.
SLAP! SLAP!
"Do not move, young lady. Not your hands, your fingers, your bottom, anything. Do you understand?"
She nodded once.
He brought his voice down to a whisper again, and breathed into her ear.
"Miss Rogers, I am now going to spank your naughty bare bottom, and you will count in your head the number of spanks that I give you. If you get the number wrong, I shall start over until you get it right. Do you understand?"
She shivered, and nodded once more.
He paused, letting her feel the tension hang in the air, mingling with her own smell of sex. It was almost overpowering with heady deliciousness. The moment stretched on forever, with Mr. Williams' clutching hand on her vest below her chin, his heat soaking through his clothes to push against her naked torso.
She closed her eyes.
The moment still stretched on. She was aching to move, to fuck herself, to have Mr. Williams fuck her. But she must not move, or...
SLAP!
SLAP!
SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!
She held herself as stiff as she could so that she would not call out, or move. But the pain of her spanking was so much sharper, more acid, if she tensed. She tried her best to relax herself against it. She was no stranger to bare bottom spankings, but she had never had one from Mr. Williams before.
Suddenly, the spanking stopped. Mr. Williams ran his hand across her buttocks again, getting more coverage on her inner thighs, and bringing her wetness up across her cheeks. His fingers began to dig harder, kneading her flesh as they slid across her. She felt her muscles relaxing, and she fought against the moans and need to press her thumb onto her clit.
"We begin again, Miss Rogers," said Mr. Williams, as he continued to smooth and knead her flesh. "You have not been accepting your punishment with a penitent, grateful attitude."
She pursed her lips and wished for more. She got it.
SLAP!
SLAP!
SLAP!
SLAP!
He began slow at first, each firm buttock pushed down by the force, giving a little shake as it sprang back into it's lovely round shape.
She bit her lip. How she needed more!
"Are you counting, Miss Rogers?"
She nodded once.
"Good. I see you are not all bad."
And he began to spank her faster, and a little harder.
SLAP!
SLAP!
SLAP!
SLAP!
She pushed her head back, eyes tightly shut, biting her lip. She was counting in her head.
Eight... nine... ten... eleven...
SLAP!
SLAP!
SLAP!
SLAP!
Mr. Williams began to give a barrage of slaps on first one buttock, and then the other, to even it up. Then he would continue on the same buttock before going back to the other. Naomi became lost in a world of numbers and throbbing pain. She could feel her inner walls pulsing with the rushing blood between each slap wherever there was a pause of a couple of seconds.
Thirty-seven... thirty-eight... thirty-nine...
SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!
On it continued, until she reached fifty-eight, and suddenly, Mr. Williams stopped.
He let go of her vest and stood back. Naomi was kneeling on his desk, panting hard, with tears streaming down her face. Her arm was beginning to cramp with effort at not pushing herself over the edge of the orgasm. The counting had helped her stave it off, and she knew she would have called out if she had gone over and been lost the ecstasy.
"Take your hand out of your naughty pussy, Miss Rogers," he commanded.
She did so, another soft little squelch punctuating the heady air.
She suddenly felt bereft, and the tide of her climax slowly began to ebb away and hide in the corner.
Mr. Williams moved behind her, and regarded Naomi's cheeks.
"Hmmm..." They really were a stunning colour. "Now your naughty bottom is blushing as much as your naughty face."
Naomi was still panting, the deep breaths causing her whole body to move up and down. She wondered what Mr. Williams was thinking.
"What number did you count to, Miss Rogers?"
"Fifty-eight, sir."
"Fifty-eight? Fifty-eight?"
He strode around and crouched down so that he could look into her face. She stared into his steely eyes, realising they were now clouded with something. Could it be... was it... lust?
"Fifty-eight was not the number administered, young lady. You have not been paying attention. I suspect you have drifted off into a daydream of naughty thoughts. Am I right?"
Naomi hung her head.
"Young lady, am I right?"
"Yes, sir."
"I can see I shall have to use a personal touch here. You need a more intense lesson. And this time, you had better keep count, or I shall have to give you up as a lost cause. Get off the desk."
Trembling, and finding it hard to move against the thick air, Naomi clumsily slithered off the desk onto wobbling legs.
"Bunch your skirt up around your waist. No, leave your vest up. Those naughty nipples have begged all term to be released, and released they shall stay."
She did as she was told, and stared at the floor, sniffing.
"Stop snivelling." He strode over to the cupboard, got out a tissue, and handed it to her. She blew her nose, and waited.