“I should hope so, but it’s no excuse. You’ve been working here for a few months now and can no longer hide behind any ineptitude.”
“No, sir.”
“I’m going to have to punish you in a way you won’t forget, Megan.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Any idea how I’m going to do that, young lady?”
I sighed out some anxiety and bit my lip. “You’ll use something more painful to spank me, or you’ll… do something new to me, sir.”
“Hedging your bets, are you? You’re right on both counts. You’re getting the slipper, Megan. It will feel like the soundest spanking you’ve ever had. I hope it teaches you a good lesson about your responsibilities.”
“Please!” I whimpered, wincing in fright.
“Alright, let’s delay this no further. Bend over, just over this one knee.”
I was a little too slow to react, so the professor helped tip me over his leg, nearly folding me in half. The top of my head was resting on the ground, joining my lower arms, and my bottom was raised up so humiliatingly high, such an easy target for my discipline. The professor used his other leg to pin me in place, which was a worrying sign.
I felt my skirt being lifted and tucked into the apron ties. Then my panties were whisked down, all no-nonsense, so I felt the shame of the cool air brushing against my naked flesh. Including today, the professor had bared my bottom three times, and all three times I couldn’t stop myself from whimpering in disgrace.
The professor teased me a while by rubbing my bare cheeks under his hand, sometimes squeezing the fleshiest bit of my lower cheeks, all while lecturing me. “When a housemaid is asked to do a little extra work, something that should only take her twenty minutes, no less, she should mark it down in an agenda if she can’t remember otherwise!”
“Yes, sir! From now on, sir!”
“Alright. Now, show me you can be good by accepting your punishment.”
I was more than eager to do that.
For one long, painful minute, the professor spanked me with a firm, strict hand. This position, just about bent in half over his knee, made my skin more taut and vulnerable. Each smack stung terribly, and still smarted when the next landed. Trying so hard to be a good girl, I stayed as still as I could for as long as I could, but all too soon my instincts of self-protection took over and I was squirming desperately.
“Time to really teach you a lesson,” he said ominously. From my angle, head nearly on the ground, I saw him pull of his own slipper, the very one he used to comfortably walk around the home. I let out a nervous moan – it was fairly large and that rubber sole would certainly sting.
“Siiirrr,” I whined pitifully.
He pat me with the flexible house slipper before landing a resounding smack. I felt a fiercely smarting sting over what felt like an entire cheek of my bottom at once. “Ahh!”
The professor was quick with this implement, spanking me with about the same rapid rhythm that he’d been doing with his bare hand. It was more severe in every way, adding a faint thudding ache in addition to the sharp, hot sting. The humiliation of being spanked with a traditionally childish implement made me squirm about as much as the pain itself.
I became grateful that he’d locked in place with his other leg. Not only did it help keep me (mostly) still as I cried out with each new spank, but it gave me something to hug. I wrapped my arms around his calf and rested my head on his foot for the majority of my slippering. It brought me great comfort through my punishment, and the professor allowed it, at least by way of neglecting to protest against it. By the end, some of my tears had soaked into the old wooden floorboards. It had long been a fantasy of mine to cry through a spanking, but when it happened, I had hardly noticed. The crying filled me up and took over any other emotions I had in me, including my lust. But that would surely return at the future memory of this moment.
“Have you learned something, Megan?”
I sniffed back my tears and swallowed. My backside pulsed like it had its own heartbeat. “Yes, sir!”
“Will you be trying to avoid the slipper in the future?”
“Yes, sir! I’ll never forget my chores again, sir!”
“I’ve never seen a bottom so red,” he declared. Then he finished by giving my sit-spot four more hand-spanks with four words of warning. “Be (spank) a (spank) good (spank) girl (spank)!” They were love taps by comparison to the rapid-fire spanking he’d just delivered.
As had happened the time before, a state of intense submission pleasantly overwhelmed me. The professor rubbed my bottom, soothing me for quite some time before he allowed me to stand. By this time the tears had stopped, which was good. I think he might have stopped cold if he’d seen the full extent of my weeping, only a couple weeks into our little game. He probably didn’t know how oddly healing and freeing those tears really were.
“Alright, Megan. I think we’ll make your corner time much more interesting and humiliating tonight. Face the bookshelves. Yes, those. The ones you should have dusted!”
I did as I was told, and found it so far no more embarrassing than the corner. Less, in fact, as the corner was much more childish and demeaning. But Professor Brooks was not done with me.
“Step out of your panties,” he told me.
They were already at my ankles. I balanced myself on the bookshelf to step out of them, confused. I was already bare.
“Bend over and put your hands on the third shelf from the ground.”
Once I did, he changed his mind.
“Second shelf from the ground,” he decided.
This was humiliating, now. I was almost as bent as I was during my spanking. The ends of my hair brushed the floor.
“Spread your legs. Wider. …Wider, Megan. As wide as you can.”
I found myself stretched to my limit, and the utter shame had already made me moan softly. My entire womanhood was on display in this position, featured prominently between my spread legs. I knew the professor could see everything I had to offer, and I was blushing as I held on to the dusty bookshelf.
“How does that feel?”
“I’m very embarrassed, sir.”
“Good. Embarrassment is another proven way to punish a naughty girl. Stay just like that and take a good look at those dusty shelves for the next twenty minutes. That’s about how long it would have taken you to simply clean it without being on full display with a spanked bottom. I firmly believe that the punishment should fit the crime.”
I whimpered and I swore I heard the lightest laugh as the professor headed back to his desk. The whole twenty minutes crept by so slowly. I was mortified to be in this position, but true submission meant staying there regardless. So I did, keeping my legs spread far apart and knowing that the professor might have been staring into all my womanly secrets for every last second of my shame. I hoped what I had to offer passed muster, at least.
By the end, I’m ashamed to say my arousal must have been on display as well. I couldn’t quite feel any dampness in this position, but I felt the pulsing, warm aching need in me. Even more than my last post-spanking corner time, I wanted Professor Brooks to touch me, feel me, rub me – fill me in whatever way he desired most. He… did not.
Once my shameful time out was complete, the professor told me to readjust my uniform and sent me away to finish making dinner. One look his way told me I wasn’t alone in my unquenched desire. He didn’t dare stand up from behind his desk, and his face had gone pink. It was not my place to beg, so I went away to cook, and that night in bed I barely pressed the vibrator against myself for a second before I moaned out the peak of my pleasure, the side of my free hand between my teeth.
***I know that the professor enjoyed our new game, and felt staying in character was more important than immediately fulfilling his more carnal urges. But I was growing too impatient. I took my latest maintenance spanking on Friday evening once again without any further groping than some preliminary rubbing over his spanking target. By that evening I felt I might die without his hands exploring further.
The main thing that helped me in my quest was the knowledge that he afforded me during my punishment for failing the clean the shelves. He told me that he prefers the punishment to fit the crime. So I decided to be very purposefully naughty in a very specific way.
Early Saturday morning, I could barely hold back a little shy smile when the professor told me to stand still for my uniform inspection. As always, he did this in such a tantalizing way, stroking me just inches away from where I wanted his hands. His palms slid down my ribs instead of my chest, and my hips instead groping my behind or feeling between my legs. I shivered and shut my eyes, barely able to stand the gentle touching.
“Megan…”
“Yes, sir?” I tried to sound innocent.
This time he reached between the top of the apron and my dress, feeling my breasts over the fabric, taking one in each hand. I sighed so hard it surely came out like a moan.
“Are you not wearing a bra?”
“…Oh, I must have forgotten, sir.”
“That’s part of your uniform, young lady! And… turn around. Hands on the wall.”
I felt like I was being frisked. He pat me down and then, to my delight, rubbed both his hands up and down the curve of my cheeks. He lifted my dress to check, and found me in a pretty pair of silky pink panties instead of the cotton white ones.
“Fancy lingerie is not part of your uniform,” he declared. “Megan! Naughty girl. I’m shocked at this behaviour. And on my day off! Now I must spend it punishing you!”
I turned around to face him again and saw the smile he tried to hide, much like my own. My eyes flickered down and saw the arousal I’d caused with my little shenanigans, and I was quite pleased with myself. “I’m so sorry, sir.”
“This won’t be a spanking, you know. Not even a slippering. You’ll be thoroughly punished.”
“I know, sir.”
The professor was preoccupied a moment, and I nearly saw the thoughts behind his eyes. “Megan, I’ve been meaning to ask you, was there any part of the book that you didn’t like at all?”
I thought about it, knowing what he meant. What were my limits? What punishment would go too far? I tried to be careful and truly think it over, grateful and respectful of his desire for my full consent. “The part where Gregory pushes Beth’s mouth so hard on him that she chokes a little,” I answered.
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