“I thought I told you not to wear panties to my class,” muttered the Professor as he raised my skirt.
I was sitting on his desk in an empty classroom, digging into the wood with my fingernails and biting my lip. How do I tell him that I wore them on purpose? That I loved it when I disobeyed him and he punished me.
He searched me with his fingers until he felt the handle of the butt plug. “Did you have it in all day?”
I nodded, swallowing a whimper as he pressed on it.
“Remember,” he said. “If you make a sound, we’ll stop.”
I didn’t dare look over my shoulder and meet his eyes. He slapped my ass once. Then, when I didn’t react, he slapped me again to make certain. My cheeks stung from his palm. I imagined that my pale skin was now brilliantly red with his hand print marking me.
With a heavy sigh, he let my skirt drop. “You want an ‘A’ in this class, right?”
I nodded again. Heat rushed to my face, my heart skipped a beat, and then I heard him unbuckle his belt, and I braced myself.