Detention With Professor Black

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Detention With Professor Black Page 5

by Dinah McLeod


  Josh

  "Come in," I called when I heard the knock at the door. I already knew who would be on the other end of it, and I was more than a little excited, even if we had a very serious matter to discuss.

  Michelle opened the door softly and let herself in.

  I couldn't help but note how lovely she looked. A few tendrils of hair had pulled free of her bun, falling to frame her face that was as dewy and vibrant as her eyes. A slight pink hue rose to her cheeks as she looked at me—a very good sign, if I read it right. "Please, have a seat."

  She sat across from me, crossing her legs and putting her hands in her lap, though I noticed she kept fidgeting.

  "It must feel a bit like getting called to the principal's office," I noted, trying to put her at ease.

  She gave me a tentative smile. "A little."

  "Where you ever sent to the principal's office in high school? I can't remember."

  Mutely, she shook her head to the negative.

  Ah, so she was a good girl at heart. That was good to know. "Well, I suppose we should begin by discussing why we're here."

  "Are you going to fire me?" she blurted out, looking so vulnerable it tore at my heart.

  "That's up to you, Ms. Johnson. I would say that this is a very serious offense, but no, not unless it becomes a recurring one."

  "You're being very formal all of a sudden," she noted with a hint of a smile.

  "Yes and I suggest you do the same. When we have meetings of this nature, I answer to either Principal Black or sir. Understand?"

  "Yes…professor."

  Even though I knew she was being sassy, I felt my cock stir at the sexy lilt to her voice when she called me professor. Was she even aware of it? "Now then, what should we do about this? If you were one of my high school students, I'd put you in detention."

  Mesmerized, I watched as she licked her lips, her flush deepening. "Is that what you're proposing?" My cock was making my pants uncomfortably tight, but before I could answer, she said, "When?" in that same sweet, seductive voice.

  "I'll be in your classroom in half an hour," I informed her. "You are to go sit down and wait for me."

  "Yes, Professor," she replied with a toss of her golden head and the same seductive gleam in her eyes.

  "You really shouldn't call me that," I replied. I tried to sound stern, but damn, she was sexy. Her voice, the way her hips swayed when she walked, as though to music only she heard. Everything about her made me hyper-aware of the hot blood surging through my body, and to one part in particular. The idea of her sitting and waiting for me as ordered was intoxicating.

  Down boy. Maybe later, I told myself, but I was doubtful. She had turned me down when I'd asked her out and I'd had no indication that she'd changed her mind. I just didn't understand it. One minute, I was sure she was flirting and the next… she was a puzzle, that much was certain. A puzzle I was very much going to enjoy putting together. Bur first, I was going to enjoy spanking that sexy ass of hers.

  I couldn't stand to wait any longer, though I made sure to slow my pace so that I didn't appear too eager. Right before I walked into the doorway of her classroom, I took a deep breath and carefully schooled my features. I was immensely pleased to see that she'd obeyed. She was sitting at one of the tables, in one of the small child's chairs. On any other grown woman it might look odd, but Michelle made it adorable.

  When she looked up and met my eyes, it was all I could do not to pull her into my arms and kiss her. She looked as delicate as a fine-china doll, but I knew she was feisty where it counted. It was the best of both worlds and explained why the more I got to know her, the more irresistible I found her.

  "I don't suppose I have to tell you why we're here."

  "No, Sir."

  "Good. Then I want you to stand up, go to the blackboard and write 'I will not curse' fifty times, please."

  Her eyes went round as saucers. "Excuse me?"

  "You are serving detention, are you not?"

  "Yes, but—"

  "Well then, you were given an assignment." I nodded toward the board.

  "But don't you mean, 'I will not curse in front of kids'?"

  I squelched a smile as I shook my head. "You'll come to find, Ms. Johnson, that I am a man who doesn't say things he doesn't mean. I'm assuming that cursing is a regular habit of yours. So regular, that you don't stop to think when you're in an inappropriate setting."

  She gave me another dubious look, but stood and walked to the blackboard with her shoulders thrown back. It was admirable, how she met challenges head-on. As I watched, she picked up the piece of chalk, her hand shaking slightly. She hesitated for a second before she began to write.

  Though I knew it wasn't very professional, I couldn't help but admire her hour-glass figure—long legs, wide hips and a stunningly perfect, round ass. She was wearing a pastel blue dress with large, white flowers that hugged her figure perfectly. My mouth practically watered as I stared at her backside. She didn't seem to have any idea how beautiful she truly was—it was such a shame. I could watch her for hours and never tire of it.

  When she'd finished the fiftieth line, she turned to me. "Done, Sir."

  I walked toward her on pretense of checking the board, but really, I just wanted to be near her. "Excellent." I lightly took her wrist, bringing it toward me so I could see the chalk dust on her fingers. "You know, every year teachers petition me to get dry erase boards and every year I say no. Do you know why?" She shook her head and I merely smiled. Maybe one day I would tell her that the sight of her lovely fingers being marked by her punishment, foretelling the chastisement still to come, was undeniably erotic. "I want you to stand in the corner now."

  She blinked in surprise. "What?"

  "You heard me, Ms. Johnson. I want you to stand in the corner with your nose to the wall."

  She hesitated, but I was looking into her eyes and I knew she would obey. I wasn't entirely sure why—we didn't know too much about each other since coming into adulthood— but that went back to her being a puzzle, and anyway, all I cared about right now was the end result. As soon as she'd positioned herself in the corner, I followed her and began to lecture. "What you did today is unacceptable. As a teacher, you can't behave in any way that reflects poorly on this school. Can you imagine how many irate parents I'm going to have to deal with tomorrow?"

  "It just—"

  "No, Ms. Johnson. You'll get your turn to talk, but not until I'm finished." Michelle fell silent and I continued. "What am I supposed to tell them? I took a leap of faith, if you will, by hiring you. Please don't make me regret it."

  She hung her head and her posture loosened. I smiled to myself—it seemed like my message was getting through.

  "Five more minutes and we'll finish up." Keeping an eye on her all the while, I walked over to her desk and checked the drawers until I found a hard wooden ruler. It would do nicely for a paddle. For a moment, I thought of the hard maple paddle I kept hidden in the bottom of my desk drawer. I kept the wood polished and shiny, careful to keep each of the medium-sized holes oiled. The thought of having her bent over my desk, that long, blond hair of hers hanging around her face with her bottom bared…

  It was enough to distract any man, made even more so by the fact that she was standing in the corner, only a few feet away. What if she doesn't want to go along with your plans? an annoyingly reasonable voice whispered. I stifled a sigh, looking at her longingly. There was always that chance. When I told her what I proposed, she might run screaming, hop in her car and keep driving until she hit the border. You never could tell.

  There was only one way to find out and I didn't think I could wait much longer. I walked toward her, my heart beating with a strange mix of trepidation and hopeful anticipation. I saw her tense the slightest bit and I knew she could feel me behind her. Still, I took my time, savoring the sight of her spectacular backside. I knew that I better drink my fill now, because depending on how the next few minutes went, I might not get another chance.
"Please turn to face me, Ms. Johnson."

  "Can you please call me Michelle?" she pleaded as she obeyed. "Hearing you call me 'Ms. Johnson' makes me feel like I'm in trouble." She grimaced comically, but I bit back my smile.

  "Aren't you?"

  "Ah, well…" She hedged, dropping her eyes to stare at the floor. "I guess so, but…"

  "You guess so?"

  "Well, I mean I know I was, but I thought…you made me write lines and stand in the corner, so…"

  "So you thought we were finished here, is that it?"

  When she raised her eyes to meet mine, I could see that was exactly what she'd thought. "You mean it isn't?"

  "I think there is something a little more serious in order here." I could see the nervousness playing along every line of her lovely face, yet she raised her chin in a show of strength that I couldn't help but admire.

  "Such as?"

  "I was thinking that a spanking would clear the slate, so to speak." I watched her carefully, expecting to see shock or disgust. Instead, she began to giggle.

  "Very funny," she replied, hooting with laughter. "That would be—" She caught sight of my face and her expression cleared, the merriment slowly leaving her eyes. It was a shame; the way she lit up, the way that her eyes crinkled when she laughed was absolutely breathtaking. "You're not kidding, are you?"

  Though there was no repulsion in her voice, there was more to it than mere curiosity. "No, I'm not," I replied gently, wishing I had some clue as to what she was thinking. She hadn't run for the door—which she could have at any time, really—so that was a good sign. I hoped.

  "I just…I don't know…is that even legal?"

  I felt the corners of my lips twitching up in a smile. "Do you mean can I, as your employer, spank you? Only if you give your consent, Ms. Johnson."

  I'd expected that she'd breathe a sigh of relief, say "So long, sucker!" and head for the door, never to return. Instead, she tilted her head to the side, looking thoughtful. "Why did you think I would consent?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "I mean, if you never planned on doing it without my consent, you must have thought that I would."

  "More like, hoped you would," I admitted. Granted, I lost a bit of the professional, in-charge demeanor I'd been trying to maintain by being so frank, but if this really had any chance of happening, I had to be upfront with her.

  "So if I say no…then are you going to fire me?"

  "Of course not," I objected, stunned that she'd even ask. "I told you that I wouldn't and I meant it."

  "So what happens if I just say no?"

  You get to go home and I get to dream about you the rest of the night, I thought. "Then I'll say goodnight and see you tomorrow."

  "Hmm," she considered. It was amazing that she was still considering it at all.

  "Are you wondering what it would be like to be spanked, Michelle?" Her scarlet cheeks and the little gasp that emitted from her parted lips told me what I needed to know. It also made me feel in control once more.

  "I…I mean, it's silly, isn't it? I'm a grown woman—"

  "Who acted like a child," I reprimanded. "You know better than to just say the first thing that comes to mind."

  She nodded, her expression pensive. "I know you're right."

  I waited patiently. It was clear to see that she was weighing her decision and this wasn't the type of thing to rush. I would let her take however long she needed and respect whatever decision she made—even if I hoped the scale would tip my way.

  "I don't think I'd ever be able to look you in the eye again," she said quietly.

  "I think that I'd have to insist that you did," I replied. "And I'd help you get used to it." To demonstrate, I tilted her chin up until her eyes were looking right into mine. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

  "No, but you haven't spanked me yet."

  Yet. My blood hummed a sweet, ecstatic song as it rushed through my veins. "So you're saying this is what you want?"

  "Yes."

  Her answer was so quiet that I wouldn't have heard her at all if I hadn't been straining my ears to listen for it. "Are you sure? I don't want to frighten you, Michelle, but it wouldn't be fair if I didn't tell you that once I start, I don't intend to stop until I'm done."

  She met my eyes, her look determined. "I understand."

  Atta girl, I thought proudly. Despite my appreciation for her pluckiness, I knew I needed to get us back on track by reestablishing the tone. "You understand what?"

  She blinked at me in confusion for a moment, but when it registered, the corners of her mouth lifted in a slow, coy smile. "I understand, Professor."

  My cock surged forward eagerly at the teasing lilt to her voice. God help me, she was tempting. "Please go bend over the desk."

  She glanced at it and back to me uncertainly. "Oh, ah…but I'm wearing a dress."

  I arched an eyebrow. "I don't care what you're wearing. I told you to do something and I expect you to obey."

  She hesitated for another instant before walking resolutely over to the desk and placing her curvy frame over it.

  Just as soon as she'd obeyed, she turned her head around and looked at me, biting her lip nervously. "Don't you think you should lock the door?"

  "There's no one here anymore but you, me and Janitor Lou."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  I chuckled softly. "It comes with the territory of being principal for the last three years. Believe me, in Pike County as soon as the bell rings students and teachers alike race for the doors. As for Janitor Lou, he is blind in one eye and half deaf, so I wouldn't worry about him."

  She didn't seem entirely convinced, but she turned back around, arching her back and pushing her ass out. I didn't know if I'd ever seen a lovelier sight. I stepped behind her, and while I saw her tense, she didn't turn around again. I raised my hand, aiming for the middle of her buttocks, and delivered the first swat.

  The sound was muffled, thanks to the dress she wore, but it was tight enough to give me a good view as she winced and pressed her cheeks together. From that first swat, I knew I was falling for Shelly Johnson.

  It was almost comical, after all this time. I remembered all too well how she used to follow me around like a cat in heat, and while I'd always thought she was cute, back then a three year difference was not taken so lightly. Not only that, but I'd known even then the strange, erotic longings that pulsed through my being. I wanted—no, I needed to be in control. I wanted to be loving and kind to the girl who freely gave me her obedience, but I would demand she live up to my expectations. It wouldn't have been fair to take such a love-struck, naïve girl and introduce her to such things. Especially since I'd had a feeling that if I had, she would have readily agreed just to be with me. But she had been too young to make such a decision.

  Which was why having her here now, a fully consenting, grown woman, made the spanking I was giving her all the sweeter. I aimed and delivered the next swat. This time, she not only winced but a little moan escaped her lips. I took that as my cue to pick up speed, raining swat after swat down on her lovely bottom. I had a pattern—left, right, down the middle. Left, right, down the middle. On and on it went until she was a squirming, mewling little girl.

  I stood back and admired her for a moment. I'd always loved to watch my women after they'd been punished. Even though she wasn't mine—yet, if I had anything to say about it—Shelly was no exception. The sight of her squirming and trying not to give into the tears that I imagined were prickling her beautiful eyes was one I would savor for a long time.

  "Raise your dress, Ms. Johnson."

  She stiffened once I gave the order and my heart lifted at the thought of her whirling around, piercing me with those blue eyes and jutting that cute chin in the air as she told me to fuck off. It made me smile, because I knew, even after this short time with her, that Shelly wanted me to keep spanking her.

  I was slightly disappointed when instead, she reached down and hiked up her dress. Only momentarily,
of course, because afterward I was so overcome by the sight of her pantied bottom that it was the only thing I could think about. Her cheeks were luscious, full swells. A bit of her enchanting behind peeked out of the sheer pink lace panties, begging for my attention. Not one to disappoint, I began to show it my attention immediately.

  I went back to my pattern, slowing my pace as to fully enjoy the fuller sounds of the swats and Shelly's renewed cries. Before long, she was mewling continuously, and I knew her tears would not be far behind. Which was why I chose that moment to lean over and pick up the wooden ruler next to her on the desk.

  "No, you can't," she moaned, turning to look at me with wide, teary eyes.

  "I can't?" I echoed, my voice amused and firm all at once.

  Her pretty rosebud mouth rounded into an O as she considered me. "I just meant—I don't—I already hurt so much already."

  Yet, I noted, she was still bent over the desk. She could have leapt up at any moment, called me an asshole and stormed out, but she hadn't. And I knew in that moment that she wouldn't. My cock swelled past the point of pain, but I didn't care. I had a job to finish. "Your bottom is supposed to hurt, Shelly. It will remind you what happens to naughty little girls who can't behave themselves. In fact, I wager that you'll be feeling this spanking every time you sit down tomorrow."

  A high flush rose to her face, painting her cheeks a dusty rose. When she turned back around, arching her bottom out toward me again, I could have kissed her. I made myself go slow, working the ruler down methodically. I didn't spank too hard, knowing that this was her first time, but hard enough to make the wager I'd made her come true. The sounds of the ruler striking her flesh were deliciously full and before I'd even reached her thighs, I could hear her sniffling.

  Part of me wanted to stop then and there, take her into my arms and reassure her that she was a good girl. The other part wanted to ensure that this was a job well done, and that was the part that won out. I went easier still as I spanked her thighs, but her sniffles became cries and as I worked the ruler over her already pink behind—it was hard to see through the panties, but the flush of her cheeks shone through the lace—she broke into full-fledged sobs. I gave her the last two smacks, reaching the top of her cheeks once more and dropped the ruler to the floor.

 

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