by Celia Aaron
Humiliating a student did nothing to take the edge off, to stifle my need to punish her. I forced myself to keep discussing constitutional law instead of looking at the wooden door leading to the hall. Where was she?
“Strict scrutiny, Mr. Drake. The highest form of scrutiny is applied when the government seeks to make any law that would infringe on fundamental rights—”
The door swung open. She strolled in, seemingly oblivious to the fact she was forty-five minutes late to a fifty minute class. Her blonde hair was pulled half up, the rest allowed to flow down her back. I couldn’t see her eyes, but I knew they were green. Her tits were large and plump, peeking over the top of her white tank top. I bet her nipples were a dark pink. Her pussy even pinker.
She climbed the risers to her seat. Her far too short black skirt swayed when she moved, and her heels made her ass jut out perfectly. I wanted to bury my face in it and lick until she screamed.
She had neither books nor a laptop in her arms.
All forty students in the room focused on her. The men gaped as did some of the women. I gripped the podium until my knuckles turned white. She was mine. All mine. All the gawkers – male and female – needed to know they had no chance with her.
I wanted to work violence on each one of them that dared to look at her. Instead, I stayed put behind the podium out of necessity, my cock having leapt to attention with the first inkling that she was near.
The tables formed a horseshoe in the room, eight rows of them, each higher than the last. She was in the middle, where the rows were extra far apart. I could see her tits, her face. I could also see her skirt, her legs, her hooker heels.
“You’re late, Ms. Finnegan.” I gave her a hard look.
She needed discipline. I would be the one to give it to her. She tempted me day in, day out. Showing up to class late. Playing on her cell phone while I lectured. Never turning in homework. And then she wore the most provocative clothing, just to get to me.
Her cocktease was about to come to an end. I was going to take her, one way or another. I wanted my hands around her throat, constricting her as I rammed my cock so deep into her that my balls slapped against her ass with every stroke. But before I even got to that, I planned on giving her the lashes she deserved. Every single one.
“Sorry, professor.” She smiled innocently, her red lips spreading to reveal her even, white teeth. “Car trouble.”
“Well, Ms. Finnegan, can you tell me what level of scrutiny applies when a government makes a law affecting the right to vote?”
She looked down at her empty desk before slyly looking back up at me. “I seem to have forgotten my book and my notes, professor.”
I scrubbed a shaking hand down my face. Fuck, I wanted to discipline her right then and there in front of everyone. “Ms. Finnegan, you are aware of the rules of my classroom, are you not?”
She smiled again, but didn’t speak. Infuriating.
“You are aware that you are expected to—”
She casually let her legs fall open slightly beneath the table. She wasn’t wearing any panties. In the shadow between her milky thighs, I got a glimpse of blonde curls and sweet, sweet pink. I stifled a groan.
“I’m really sorry, professor.” She smiled again.
“We’ll continue this lecture on Thursday. If I discover that any single one of you has failed to prepare for my class, I will mark everyone down half a letter grade.”
The students erupted in complaints. I didn’t care. I wanted them gone. I couldn’t rip my gaze away from what was mine. She let her leg loll a little farther to the side, giving me an even better view of her pussy. I licked my lips.
“Out! All of you!”
The students packed up, stowing their books and laptops before grumbling their way out of the room. She stood, as if leaving right along with them. I cursed her for taking away such a captivating sight. But I would get a better view. One that was much, much closer. She’d finally driven me over the edge. Today was the day she would find out just how far I would go to give her the discipline she so sorely needed.
Chapter Two
Zoey Finnegan
“Not you, Ms. Finnegan,” Professor Stevens called. His voice was thick with tension. He was focused on me, his blue eyes forcing me back down into my seat.
I’d really pissed him off this time. He ran a hand through his dark hair. He needed a cut. He usually kept it just long enough to tickle the sides of his ears. Now it had gotten a bit shaggier. The locks curled around his shirt collar and fell into his face. It made him look younger, though he was only thirty-five, according to his faculty profile.
He was classically handsome. All the girls in the law school drooled over Professor Stevens, masturbating to him every night and making googoo eyes at him in class. His façade of cool impenetrability never faltered. He treated all students equally. Equally badly, anyway.
But the girls still talked and dreamed, even though Professor Stevens was married. Even though he was cold, untouchable. He followed every rule to the letter and dominated his classrooms with an iron fist. That’s what made my tardiness so much worse.
I looked at my watch. My next class started in fifteen minutes. I hoped he wouldn’t lecture me for too long. But gauging by the fire in his eyes, I assumed it was going to be quite a tongue-lashing.
When the final student cleared out, Professor Stevens bade me come closer and speak with him. I rose and made my way down the risers before walking to him and perching against the desk near the podium.
“I’m really sorry, professor. I just had a lot of other things to do so I—”
“You said it was car trouble, Ms. Finnegan.” His back was still to me.
Busted. “I, it was, I just um …”
“It doesn’t matter now anyway. Lock the door.” His voice was a low growl.
“What?” A shiver went down my spine.
“Lock—the—door.” He turned to look at me and his eyes bored into mine.
I followed his command, not wanting to get into any more trouble. I clicked the deadbolt over.
“Come here.” His voice was a stark command.
Shit. I was in big trouble. I returned to him. I glanced back over my shoulder at the locked door before looking at him. He hadn’t moved from the podium, his posture rigid. His broad back strained against the fabric of his dress shirt, all the muscles drawn tight.
I twiddled my long hair. “Professor, the next class starts in here in ten minutes, you know. Students will be trying to get in. Maybe we should walk over to your office or something?”
“No.” He took off his clark kent glasses and carefully set them on the podium.
He reached up and loosened his tie before unknotting it entirely. He opened his top two buttons so I could see the dark hair along his upper chest. “Professor Rains is sick. Her class is canceled. No one will be in here again until tomorrow.”
He whipped his tie from around his neck and wrapped it around one of his hands.
Fear rushed through me. “I-I- should go.”
“You aren’t going anywhere, Ms. Finnegan. Put your palms on the desk.”
“What?”
He looked up, irritation and some other emotion rolling off him in waves, his Adam’s apple protruding as he did so. I realized how large he was, maybe six foot five and fit, strong. He turned toward me. I let out a choked gasp when I saw his rigid length outlined against the front of his pants.
He sighed. “I’m not going to ask nicely again, Ms. Finnegan.”
I darted a glance to the door and took a step. That was as far as I got. His hands, large and hot, gripped my arms and wrenched them behind me. I cried out but he slapped a hand over my mouth. “If you scream, I’ll gag you. And then I’ll make this hurt. Understand?”
His grip on my arm and mouth tightened until I nodded.
He released my mouth and began working on my hands. I felt the smooth fabric of the tie against my wrists. I tried to yank my hands away and go for the do
or, but he was too strong. I had no chance.
He growled and slammed me chest-down onto the desk, sending a whoosh of air from my lungs. He snugged his hips up against my ass. His hard cock pressed into me. Only the fabric between us kept him from my pussy. His thick, stiff length made me shiver. He continued tying my hands.
“You can struggle if you want. It doesn’t matter. You aren’t going anywhere, not until you’ve been disciplined, Ms. Finnegan.” He bent over me, pressing me down into the unforgiving desk until his mouth was next to my ear. “Besides, I like it even more when you fight.”
I tried to buck my shoulder up to push him back, but it didn’t work. He laughed, a low, deep rumble that I felt against my back. I trembled at what that laugh meant. He leaned away from me again and finished his work at my wrists. When he was done, they were held fast. I wriggled them, but got nowhere. I was trussed up and bent over the desk, completely exposed and at his mercy.
His pressure was gone. He’d backed away from me. I turned my head to the side so I could see him, see how far away he was and if I could make it to the door.
He was only a few steps back, staring at me, a smirk on his face. Then he reached down and unbuckled his belt. The jangling sound spurred me into action. I tried to rise up and run, but with my hands tied behind my back, I was far too slow. Before I’d even begun, he had me slammed back down onto the desk.
“Try that again and I’ll fuck you in the ass right now. Is that what you want, Ms. Finnegan? It’s certainly what I want.”
I caught my breath and ignored the slight sting from my hard nipples being forced into the hard surface. I shook my head. “No.”
“No what?”
What did he want? “Um, no, professor?”
“Much better.”
Chapter Three
Professor Stevens
I eased off her and finished removing my belt. I drew the smooth leather against my hands. This belt was brand new for the semester. It had Ms. Finnegan’s name branded into it along the inside by my leather guy. I had him make it once I’d realized Ms. Finnegan was in desperate need of correction from me.
The fresh leather would have quite a bite to it. Ms. Finnegan would take every single lash I gave her. I may even make her thank me. After all, she needed discipline. She was practically begging for it.
She looked back at me. I raised the belt so she could see it over her shoulder. A shiver ran through her body and her eyes opened wide. My cock jumped against my pants at her fear.
“That’s right, Ms. Finnegan. I’m going to discipline you. You’ve been late to my class how many times?”
She was breathing hard, already panting. She tried to answer but her words seemed to stick in her throat.
“How many times, Ms. Finnegan?”
“I don’t know, maybe three times?” Her voice shook.
I tsked at her. “Ten, Ms. Finnegan, including today. How many times would you say that you’ve been prepared for class?”
Her fingers clenched and her eyes roamed the room, no doubt looking for help that was nowhere to be found. When she discovered no reprieve lurking in the rows, her gaze returned to me. “Every time, professor.”
I reached down and pulled her skirt up, laying it against her back. Her ass was entirely fuckable. Round, full cheeks, a tight little flower of an asshole, and that sweet pink beneath. I forced myself to slow my pace. Discipline first. Always.
I put my hand on her lower back and pressed down. She needed to feel me over her, to know I was going to give her what she deserved. She would submit.
“Ms. Finnegan, out of sixteen classes, you’ve been prepared zero times. That’s ten tardies plus sixteen unprepared, equals twenty-six strokes with my belt.” I pressed down harder, enjoying the feel of her trembling beneath me.
She let out a small, strangled sound. I intended to lock that euphoria-inducing sound deep in my memory.
“How many times have you failed to turn in homework? Any idea?”
“I-I- don’t know.”
“I do. I’ve given only five homework assignments this semester. You’ve seen fit to do none of them. So now we’re up to thirty-one lashes. Plus another for lying to me about your car breaking down. But.” I moved my hand down and gripped her luscious ass. “I’ll make you a deal. Would you like to hear my terms?”
“Yes, professor.” Her quavering voice made me smile.
“I’ll reduce it to six lashes if you agree to let me have your pussy.”
Her shaking increased, making my cock leak into my pants.
“L-let you have it?”
“Yes, think of it in contract terms. I have offered consideration – fewer lashes – in exchange for ownership of your pussy. Of course, as with all items of commerce, your pussy will become my property and I can exercise dominion and control over it whenever I see fit. Or, you can get the thirty-two lashes and I will, no doubt, still fuck you before you leave this room.”
She bucked slightly. “You’ll never get away with this.”
I ran a finger down her cheeks until I came to her asshole. I stroked the tight, wrinkled skin and almost came from knowing how snug she was there. “I will. My family’s money built this law school. I’m a tenured professor. You’re just some piece of ass who never attends classes and, rumor has it – well, rumor will have it once I get it started, anyway – that you have a penchant for hard drugs and prostitution.”
She struggled. God, I loved it. Her ass wriggled against me and it was all I could do not to sink my finger inside her ass and my cock inside her pussy. But I was going to be fair and abide by my rules. Patience. After a few moments of thrashing that got her nowhere, she settled down.
“So what’s it going to be Ms. Finnegan? All the lashes? Or will you take the deal?”
She stilled beneath me, the fight gone once she realized nothing would keep me from her. She was mine. I would own her in one way or another. Now she knew it.
“The deal.” Her words were quiet.
I was high on power at her agreement. I gripped her ass with both hands, letting her feel the leather of the belt in my palm against her smooth skin. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
I took a step back from her and freed my cock. She swiveled her head to the side so she could see me again. Her red lips begged for my shaft, and she would have it. It may not have been part of the deal, but I was going to make her throw it in.
I stroked myself with one hand and readied the belt in the other. I had to go slowly. I wouldn’t risk letting my spend go anywhere but inside her delicious body. “Not a word, Ms. Finnegan. For every sound you make, I’ll add a lash. Understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Yes, what, Ms. Finnegan?”
“Yes, professor.”
“Good. If I have to tell you again, it will add a lash.”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“No, Ms. Finnegan. Eyes open, always. Always watch what I’m doing to you.”
She whimpered and obeyed, her green orbs surveying me as I loosened up my wrist. My cock surged in my palm as I stroked it, ready to enjoy its prize. Not yet, not yet. First, she had to be corrected. Then I could reward her.
I reared back and swung. The belt cracked across her with a satisfying slap. She jumped but remained silent. Her green eyes focused on me, fear and anger warring in her gaze. Fuck, it turned me on even more.
Slap. I gave her the leather again. Her fingers gripped the smooth fabric of my tie. I continued to stroke myself at the sight of her, letting my pre-cum drip down onto the classroom floor. Slap. I put a little extra heat on the third one, hoping she’d cry out. She didn’t. She was tougher than she seemed.
Her ass was already turning the perfect shade of pink, my lashes branding her as mine. Another lash had her breathing out hard, but no true sound came from her lips. Those eyes watched me intently, even as I delivered the next to last strike.
“One more, Ms. Finnegan. Though, I admit, I want you to make a sound so
I can add to your punishment. Your ass needs more strokes. Many, many more to get you in line.”
She tilted her chin up in defiance as I swung for the last time. Not a sound. Her silence, though I’d demanded it, was maddening. But I knew how to make her scream. I dropped the belt and got on my knees. Her ass was directly in front of my face, with her pink peeking out below. I was maddened by the sight of her plump pussy so close.
I gripped her thighs and spread them. She stiffened, but I didn’t stop. I walked her heels out so she was spread in front of me. Her pussy was glistening.
I ran a hand over my face. She was so wet.
“You enjoyed the lashes, didn’t you, you little slut?” I asked.
“No, professor.”
“You didn’t?” I darted my tongue along the folds of her pussy. They were coated with her own cream.
She shivered, her knees giving way and bumping into the back of the desk.
“You did, Ms. Finnegan. I should add another lash for the lie.” Instead, I buried my face in her ass, her pussy.
“Oh!” she cried as my tongue entered her pink folds. I didn’t give her a reprieve. I ran my tongue down to her clit, pushing past her delicious skin until I grazed the nub. She jumped beneath me as if electrified.
I put my palms on her ass and spread her cheeks wide before licking from her clit to her asshole. I laved the tight hole and slid a hand around to her wet pussy. I sank two fingers inside and groaned at the heat I found there. Her walls clamped down on my fingers, sucking them inside her. I worked them in and out while I let my tongue play and stroke.
I pressed my lips against her and sucked her tight asshole. She moaned, the sound low and sultry. My cock begged to be inside her pussy. I ignored it. I needed more from her first. I stood and wrenched her up from where she lay on the desk before turning her around. I forced her to her knees in front of me.