University Spanking: Strict Professor Punishes Bad Student

This is a fictional story that is only allowed to be read from the age of 18

Table of Contents

Asking For Some Extra Time

It was hot in Professor Bennett’s office. The windows were open, birds singing outside. Inside, silence.

I sat on the wooden chair in front of his desk, knees tightly pressed together, heart racing.

“Professor Bennett… I wanted to ask…” I spoke softly, but he looked up from my draft. His eyes were cool and grey. Sharp.

I froze.

“Yes?” he said, calm and steady.

“I won’t finish the paper on time. I’ve had some… personal issues.” I gave a helpless shrug. “I just need a few more days. Three, maybe.”

He didn’t speak. Just stared.

Heat crept up my neck. And not just from the afternoon sun. His gaze dropped briefly from my face, skimming over my fitted t-shirt, short denim shorts, bare thighs. Then back to my eyes.

“Personal issues,” he repeated flatly. “Not very academic, is it?”

I bit my lip. He wasn’t buying it. But I had to try.

“I’ll submit it. I promise. Just… please. A little more time.”

He stood up. Slowly. Walked around the desk and closed the door with a quiet *click*.

I frowned.

“I don’t believe in extensions without consequences,” he said, moving behind my chair. “You want time? Then earn it.”

I opened my mouth to ask what he meant. But then his hand gripped my arm. Firm. Calm. Unmoving.

Professor Puts Bad Student Over His Knee

I didn’t have time to resist. Not a second.

In one smooth movement, he pulled me across his knee, belly-down.

“What are you doing?” I gasped, part shocked, part furious. I pushed against his thigh, but his arm held me firmly in place. My shorts stretched tight across my butt.

“When you miss deadlines,” he said, “you learn responsibility. The old-fashioned way.”

I squirmed. Kicked. But his grip didn’t loosen. He sat like it was nothing while I dangled like some bratty girl caught in the act.

Then I felt his fingers at the waistband of my shorts.

“Don’t you dare!” I snapped, but it was too late. He tugged the shorts down to my knees in one pull.

Underneath, I wore only a thin black thong. Small. Tight. Barely covering anything. Now it cut between my cheeks, lifting my bottom high over his lap.

The air hit the backs of my thighs. I tried to roll off, but his hand flattened me. Then slid down my back, slow, deliberate, tracing the waistband of my thong.

“You can’t do this…” I stammered.

But he could. And he did. He peeled the thong down. All the way.

Suddenly, my bare ass was completely exposed. Lifted. Presented. Helpless.

The First Slap On Her Cheeky Butt

His hand paused a moment on my naked skin. Warm. Heavy.

Then… a sharp slap landed square on my right cheek.

I yelped.

The next smack followed instantly, loud and stinging, right where the first had landed. I gasped, twisting against his leg.

But he pinned me down easily.

“Kicking won’t help,” he said. Then his palm came down again. And again.

The spanking built quickly. Each slap cracked through the quiet room, echoing off the walls.

I could feel every impact. My cheeks clenched with every blow. My bare ass bounced helplessly, jiggling under the force of each strike.

I writhed. Gasped. My legs flailed, heels scraping against the floor, toes dragging.

But he kept going.

His hand was a metronome. Precise. Punishing.

My hands gripped the chair leg. I arched my back instinctively, trying to escape the sting, but all that did was lift my ass higher. Presenting it more.

Each slap lit a fire across my skin.

Still, he didn’t stop.

University Spanking: Burning Red Bottom For A Bad Student

I had no idea how long it lasted. But my bottom felt scorched.

Each cheek throbbed under the constant rhythm of his hand. The swats were slower now. Heavier. Each one landed deep. Controlled. And very, very firm.

My ass had to be red by now. I couldn’t see it… but I could feel it. It pulsed with heat.

My legs jerked with every slap. My hips twitched involuntarily. I was squirming like crazy, but he held me tight. Like he was barely breaking a sweat.

Whack. Whack. Whack.

Alternating cheeks. Crisp, full slaps that made my ass bounce and wobble.

I kicked again, trying to break free. But he didn’t even flinch.

“Stop! Please… it hurts!”

My voice cracked. High. Desperate.

Still, he said nothing. His hand just kept working, painting my butt a deeper, angrier red.

Then – just as suddenly as it started – it stopped.

Silence.

I lay still. Panting. My skin was blazing. My ass felt like it was glowing red-hot. And it sure was. Birght like the sun.

Three Days Extension: Strict Professor And Bad Student

His hand lingered on my punished cheeks. Then it stroked gently… slow, deliberate circles over my burning skin.

“You’ve learned something now,” he said quietly. “Responsibility has a price.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I was still stretched across his lap, bare and aching, thong bunched at my knees, shorts tangled below that.

“I’ll grant your extension,” he said. “Three days.”

I nodded. Wordless.

He helped me up. My legs were shaky. I pulled my shorts back up, wincing as the denim brushed over my sore cheeks. The heat flared again under the fabric.

“And next time,” he added, looking me dead in the eye, “the lesson will be longer.”

I swallowed. Turned to the door.

“Thank you, Professor Bennett.” My voice was barely audible.

Then I walked out of his office, slow and careful.

With every step, the sting reminded me: I’d gotten what I asked for. But not how I expected.