A fantasy I’ve long wanted to play out. Male dominant, female submissive

You open the door and enter the room. “Now now, I had heard stories of you,” I say, a disappointed look on my face as I look up from my desk, “but I had assumed that the tales of rudeness were exaggerated by your instructors. Not even a knock. Tsk, tsk.” Pulling a piece of paper, I read aloud “cheating, swearing, smoking, and general bratiness? This is not how girls here are supposed to behave!”

I stare directly into your eyes and ask “what do you have to say for yourself?”

You offer no response.

“Talk back at every opportunity, and the second that you get called on it, your tongue gets shy? Well, I’m sure we can correct this. Unless, of course, you’d rather I write your parents?”

“Please, no,” you respond, barely able to meet my gaze. “They’d make me go back home. I belong here.”

“Sit,” I say, pointing to a school desk directly in front of my own. “First, we must address your swearing. Pull out pen & paper and write ‘I am a naughty girl who deserves to be punished’ forty times.”

You promptly sit and make a big deal about getting a notepad and pen from your bag. I can’t help but notice that between sitting and preparing for the first phase, your plaid skirt has somehow managed to ride and fold. You keep your legs spread apart – and the view from my desk is just about perfect.

You start writing, whispering “I am a naughty girl who deserves to be punished. I am a naughty girl who deserves to be punished” over and over again. Every now and then you look up, smirking as you watch me focus between your legs. You blush every time our eyes meet, my severe expression forcing you back to your writing task.

Your hand starts to cramp as you near the end of the task. “I am a naughty girl who deserves to be punished” you write for the 40th time while saying it fully out loud and look up. “Done” you say, looking up to notice that I’ve from my desk. My erection must be apparent, as your gaze does not leave my crotch and you lick your lips.

“Smoking is something that we simply cannot permit here. Cigarettes are disgusting little things. Are you sucking on your fingers?”

You simply look up at me as you bite on your index finger.

“Hmmm, I think we can cure an oral fixation,” I say, unzipping my fly. “Open your mouth.” As you open your mouth, I slide my cock in. “Suck until you can’t suck any more,” I say as you start to swallow my member. Your hands come up to guide the shaft into your mouth, twisting as you guide me in. I close my eyes and sigh, your tongue running along the underside. I moan.

I place my hand on the top of your head and guide you to take my full length. You moan in protest holding off a gag. I start guiding your head all of the way on, then all of the way to the tip of my shaft. Faster and faster I move until you jerk your head away, catching your breath. Just a moment passes, though, before you dive back onto my erection with a new fervor.

With one last dive, I brace my hands against your shoulders and my orgasm rushes forth. You smile and sigh as you start swallowing my seed. For a good minute, you keep me in your mouth, making sure to have every last drop.

“Now, keep that in mind whenever you need to do something with your mouth. That’s the preferred alternative to smoking here. Any time you feel the need to light up, that alternative is available to you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reply, licking your lips, as I zip up my fly.

“No, onto your cheating,” I say, heading back to my desk. I pull my chair out from behind my desk, placing it in front. I sit “I need you to come to me, and bend over my lap. Now,” I say, patting my lap. You stand and shuffle over to me, bending over, then bending your knees once your weight was one me, putting your feet in the air, letting the weight of your whole body press into me.

I place me left hand over your shoulders, securing you in place as I lift your skirt over your back. You wriggle “Timid now? After that show you gave me doing lines?” I ask before landing a strong blow over both cheeks, right at the line where ass meets leg. You cry out in surprise, apparently not quite ready for it just then, and your feet fall to the floor. I leave my hand to rest on your ass for a few seconds and I feel your hips grind into my lap as much as they can. “Count aloud” I whisper, pressing my hand into you.

“One,” you reply.

To the same spot, my hand returns again and again. “Two, three, four,” you state in a measured voice. “Five,” however, comes after a pause as you breathe in.

“Punishments are meant to hurt,” I state.

“Six, seven, eight,” and a cry escapes your throat as “nine” is delivered, and I, again, let my hand rest on your bum. Before raising it, though, I let my fingertips trace your panty line, teasing, just for a second, the moist mound resting against my lap and you shudder as I do so. The tenth, eleventh, twelfth blows continue the same pattern until a “stop teasing me” makes it’s way after “thirteen”.

“What was that?”

“Nothing….sir,” you respond, thrusting your sex back to try to make stronger contact as I follow the familiar pattern.

“Looks like you’re not taking this seriously enough. Stand up,” I order, and you look back over your shoulder at me, quizzically. Surely, I wasn’t done with this part?

I grab a fistful of hair and force you to your feet, “take off those soaked underthings” I say to you as I walk around to the front of my desk. As you force down and step out of your panties, you watch me pull a paddle from a drawer. “Bend over the desk. Now.”

You immediately comply, placing your feet together and bending over the desk, your ass high in the air. Suddenly, I strike – with blows come too quickly to be counted as I smack that same area, where ass cheek turns to leg over and over again. I hit just strong enough to draw gasps and make you breath carefully, but restraining just enough to keep you from truly crying out. You feel your ass growing hotter and hotter, as I see a wonderful red rectangle growing more & more crimson in color. I notice that your feet, which started right next to each other, are starting to spread. Before too long, there aren’t gasps coming from you – your hips start rocking in rhythm to my blows, your breathing coming in time. When I don’t strike, I watch your body tense, flinching, and nothing comes, when I hear the whine come from your lips as you reach out with your ass, waiting for one final blow.

When a good minute passes, you start to relax and the dreaded, final blow comes. You gasp, your entire body growing tense as the “thwack” reverberates throughout the room. “I knew it” you whisper under your breath once you manage to collect your breath.

“I think that should dissuade you from future wandering eyes on the next exam.”

“Perhaps,” you reply slyly.

“Brattiness, well that requires humility,” I state as you look at me, innocently, as “can’t we just get to the fucking?” look crossing your face as you look down to see that I’ve recovered for a second round.

“On your knees, with your nose in the corner,” I say, pointing to the corner of a room. You walk across the room and comply, getting on your knees, shaking your head. I can’t help but notice the room simply smells like sex.

“And raise your skirt, I want to admire my handiwork,” I say after you’ve been waiting for a few minutes. With each hand, you ball the skirt up on each side, your red, welted ass exposed to the cool air.

I make my way over to you, tracing the welt with my fingertips, goosebumps rising all along your body. To my own knees I go, for a closeup look, and you sigh as my hot breath reaches your ass.

“I think that will do for this round,” I finally say. “Obviously, future transgressions may involve intense punishment.”

You look back at me as you get to your feet, your skirt still in your hands – your sex obviously dripping and awaiting touch. “That’s it?” you ask.

“Punishment is over, get along to your studies,” I say with a smile on my face.