Spanking At University: Strict Professor Spanks Naughty Student
This is a fictional story that is only allowed to be read from the age of 18
Table of Contents
Female Student Pleads For Deadline Extension
The sun blazed through the tall seminar room window, dust motes dancing in the slanted rays. Zoe, 23, perched on the edge of a hard wooden chair, her hands nervously twisting the hem of her cutoff denim shorts. The fabric was skimpy, barely longer than a towel, creeping higher up her thighs with every shift.
She felt the stares of the other students, now gone, and heard the floor creak as Professor Harris slammed his briefcase shut. The room smelled of old wood, chalk dust, and a hint of lemon cleaner. Zoe swallowed hard.
Her heart pounded like a drumroll as she stood and shuffled toward the desk. “Professor Harris,” she began, her voice quivering, “it’s about the paper. I… I need an extension.” She bit her lower lip, her wide, doe-brown eyes pleading silently.
Her blonde hair cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. She wore a tight white top that hugged her curves and those shorts, showcasing her long legs and perfectly shaped rear. She knew she stood out, but today she wished she could vanish.
Professor Harris, a man in his late forties with gray-streaked hair and a face stern as an ancient lawbook, leaned back in his chair. His glasses sat low on his nose, and his fingers drummed the desk. “Miss Carter,” he said, his voice icy as the breeze slipping through the cracked window, “the deadline was yesterday. Noon sharp. You know the rules.”
He pulled a sheet from his briefcase, deadlines neatly penned in precise script. “Paragraph 7, Section 3 of the handbook: No extensions without valid cause. Do you have one?” Zoe’s cheeks flushed hot.
She had no valid excuse. Nights at the café, long chats with friends, hours binge-watching shows instead of writing – they piled into a mountain of neglect. “I… I had a lot going on,” she stammered, “family issues, and…” She trailed off under his gaze.
He raised an eyebrow, and the room’s silence grew heavy as lead.
Professor Rejects Excuse But Offers Another Solution
“Family issues,” Harris repeated, each word sharp as a scalpel. “That’s not enough, Miss Carter. Rules are rules.” He stood, circled the desk, and leaned against it, arms crossed.
His dark suit fit flawlessly, but his eyes glinted with a mix of reprimand and something Zoe couldn’t place. “But,” he continued, “I see your desperation. You’re a good student when you try. I could make an exception – on one condition.”
Zoe held her breath. Hope flickered, tinged with unease. “What condition?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Harris stepped closer, the scent of his aftershave – sharp, with a trace of sandalwood – filling her senses. He pointed to a chair in the room’s corner, an old, heavy wooden one with a high back. “Sit there,” he said, “no, not like that. Turn around. Over the back.”
Zoe froze. Her eyes widened, her pulse hammering in her ears. “What do you mean?” she asked, though she sensed what was coming.
Harris walked to his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a flat, wooden hairbrush, its back smooth and polished. “You want an extension,” he said, “and I’m offering a chance. But negligence has consequences. You’ll accept them.”
Zoe’s knees weakened. She wanted to protest, to run, but her legs moved toward the chair as if on their own. The thought of failing, of the paper, of the consequences, anchored her.
She bent over the chair’s back, her hands gripping its edges, the rough wood pressing into her stomach. Her shorts rode up, and cool air brushed her skin. “Please,” she whispered, “I’ll do anything.”
Strict Professor Administers Hard Punishment For Young Lady
“Good,” Harris said. He stepped behind her, hairbrush in hand. “Then we begin.” Without another word, he grabbed the waistband of her shorts.
With a sharp tug, he yanked them down to her ankles. Zoe gasped, her cheeks burning with shame. The thin, white panties she wore offered little cover.
The fabric stretched tight over her round rear, accentuating every curve. “Far too flimsy,” Harris muttered, almost to himself, “inappropriate for a seminar.” Before Zoe could respond, he seized her panties and pulled them up hard.
The fabric dug into her skin, a wedgie that made her flinch. The pain was sharp, but the humiliation burned hotter. She clenched her teeth, her fingers digging into the wood.
“Hold still,” Harris commanded. He raised the brush and brought it down with a loud smack on her rear. The pain exploded like fireworks.
Zoe let out a soft cry, her legs twitching involuntarily. The strike echoed in the room, a dull, sharp sound that made her wince. More blows followed, each precise, each loud.
Her skin tingled, then warmed, then burned. She felt her rear quiver under each hit, muscles tensing and releasing. The brush left red, stinging marks, spreading like a mosaic across her skin.
“Don’t squirm,” Harris said sternly, but Zoe couldn’t help it. Her legs kicked, her toes scraped the floor. The panties cut deeper, and humiliation lodged in her throat like a stone.
After a while, he paused. Zoe panted, her breath ragged, sweat dripping from her forehead to the floor. “That was the first lesson,” he said. “Now it gets serious.”
Professor Spanks Lazy Student On The Bare Butt
Harris grabbed her panties and yanked them down in one swift motion. The fabric pooled at her ankles, and Zoe felt the cool air on her bare rear. Her exposed skin prickled in the sudden chill.
She wanted to hide, to disappear, but the chair held her in place. Harris raised the brush again, and this time it struck bare skin. The pain was sharper, rawer.
Each blow made her rear tremble, the red marks deepening, glowing like embers. Zoe whimpered, her legs shaking, tears stinging her eyes. “Hold still,” Harris repeated, his voice carrying a hint of satisfaction.
He continued, the brush striking the same spots until Zoe felt her skin blaze. Her rear twitched with each hit, muscles tightening only to slacken again. She heard the rhythmic slapping, smelled the sweat mingling with the scent of wood, and felt the burn searing deep into her skin.
After what felt like an eternity, he stopped. Zoe gasped, her face wet with tears, her hands trembling on the wood. “Three days,” Harris said finally.
“You get three days’ extension. But you’ll work hard.” He set the brush aside, but before Zoe could stand, he pointed to the room’s corner. “Ten minutes,” he said. “Corner time. Face the wall.”
Sexy Woman Endures Cornertime After Firm Spanking
Zoe nearly stumbled as she straightened. Her shorts and panties still hung at her ankles, and she pulled them up quickly. The fabric grazed her burning rear, making her wince.
The red marks shone through the thin shorts, a vivid red impossible to hide. She shuffled to the corner, facing the wall, feeling Harris’s eyes on her back. The wall was cool against her forehead, but her rear glowed like a furnace.
Every movement rubbed the fabric against her tender skin, and the humiliation stung almost as much as the blows. The minutes dragged like hours. She heard the clock tick, the rustle of papers as Harris worked at his desk.
Her legs trembled, and she regretted the skimpy shorts she’d worn so confidently that morning. Now she felt exposed, vulnerable. The fabric clung to her skin, and she sensed the red marks peeking beneath the hem.
When the ten minutes ended, she turned. Harris looked at her, his face impassive. “Go,” he said. “And submit the paper. No more excuses.”
Zoe nodded, her throat dry. She grabbed her bag, left the room, and felt the sting with every step, the afterburn of the blows. The sun outside blinded her, and she tugged her shorts lower, hoping to hide the red marks.
But she knew anyone who looked would see – and she vowed never to miss a deadline again.
