Erotic Series

A, the Hard Way 2 — Deserving the D

I unzip her skirt and it falls around her feet, revealing a pert little peach of a bottom, sporting a tediously predictable tattoo

I don’t have much admin left — just one email to send — so when I’m done I spend another few minutes tapping keys randomly while I watch Emily. She seems quite at ease with being exposed, perhaps because the partly-drawn blind will hide her face if anyone does look up at the window.

She’ll be less comfortable if she wants to improve her grade.

“Well done, Emily! You’ve earned an E. Would you like to try for a passing grade?”

“Yes please, professor.”

“Excellent. Keep your arms in position, and don’t drop the book, but you can let go of your skirt now.”

“Thank you!”

“It’ll need to come off anyway.”

The book definitely wobbled when I said that, but only the hem of her skirt fell. Emily is maintaining her composure, for now.

I pick up the wooden ruler from my desk and move behind her. “Passing requires more than mere effort. A good student has the discipline to study when she would rather go out, which is the bare minimum needed for a D grade. Do you have discipline, Ms Rogers?”

“Yes!”

“No. No, you do not. If you had discipline, I would have an essay and you would have a skirt on.”

I unzip her skirt and it falls around her feet, revealing a pert little peach of a bottom, sporting a tediously predictable tattoo: ‘Lucky you’ on her right cheek, in a curly, girly font. I’m offended. I am not lucky, I worked hard to achieve this position. But I imagine the boys who’ve seen that ass up close do consider themselves lucky, as though drunken rutting with a slut were a lottery win.

“Are you a boring lay, Ms Rogers? Do you expend as little effort on sex as you do on studying?”

Now she’s offended, and she responds with the legitimate aspiration of a generation raised on the internet and encouraged into crippling debt. “No! I fuck like a porn star!”

I know that’s true, because a subscriber leaked some of her premium videos last week, and I’ve watched them. But I’ll pretend I haven’t. “Then why do you provide your partners with something to read while they plough your pretty ass? Or is this tattoo intended as a target?”

When I tap the target with my ruler, she flinches, clenching her buttocks as her hips jerk forward. She reacted out of the expectation of pain more than the reality, but it’s not a good sign.

“Careful, Ms Rogers! If you drop the book, you’ll get an incomplete, so do try to remain still. Stillness calls for discipline, and good discipline needs determination. Are you as determined to get a D in my office as you are on a night out?”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Silly girl. Of course I dare, but I haven’t spanked this particular student before and I don’t know how she’ll respond, so I dare cautiously. That means one swift stroke at about half strength — practically gentle — across the centre of both cheeks.

A sharp intake of breath, but no protest, suggests I can go harder next time. I only plan another six strokes, so I’ll try to make each a little more painful than the last.

“Now, let’s go through the lessons you need to learn. Firstly, not finding time in your busy social life to write an essay is disorganised.”

The first real stroke is only as hard as the practice one, but it lands squarely below her bottom, across the top of her thighs. The ruler leaves two symmetrical pink patches. They’re not the more defined, brighter, straighter lines I prefer, but that takes more force, and this is Emily’s first time. She doesn’t seem to be a fast learner, so with luck there will be other opportunities for me to produce better work, through a long, diligent process of revision and refinement.

Regardless of my own dissatisfaction, that stroke was clearly more effective, because Emily does protest this time.

“Motherfucker!”

I deny the charge. Mrs Rogers would be outside my preferred age range, although the daughter’s demeanour suggests the mother might also have benefitted from discipline when she was younger. And she may be the source of Emily’s callipygian genes, in which case if she’s managed to keep fit she might still be worth fucking.

But I have the daughter here, and I should concentrate on her: concentration is important, as Emily will soon learn. “Ms Rogers, studying is best done without distractions. If you speak again, I shall start over, and I’ll keep restarting until you demonstrate sufficient determination to endure this lesson without dissenting. Do you understand?”

A disgruntled, “Hmmph,” suggests she understands perfectly.

“Not completing the coursework I assign for your benefit is disrespectful.”

That was a harder stroke, but only the last centimetre of wood made contact, precisely on the target: a sharp sting, rather than a broad ache. It produces a deeper pink blush, and a delightful squeak muffled by tightly-closed lips.

“Forging a doctor’s letter is dishonest.”

That one’s a broad stroke across both cheeks, leaving two red stripes which almost meet in the middle. There’s no squeal this time, only a low, throaty moan. I think she liked it, which is encouraging, but disappointing; disappointing for her, because if that’s what she likes, she’ll like this less.

“Flashing your pussy at me is devious… debased… and debauched.”

That’s three rapid, underhand stings, upward, striking the bottom of her cleft. The second two, landing on an already sensitive spot, produce yelps which I graciously decide are appreciation, not dissent.

I crouch to assess the damage. There’s a distinct red patch, but there’s also a distinctly wet patch in front of it, trickling slowly down her thigh.

Time for a bonus lesson, then. “Step forward, Ms Rogers. Stand in front of the books, with your feet wide apart.”

She complies, her fingers pressing against the window now.

I put the ruler in between her thighs. “You do have a particularly pretty pussy, but you allow dicks to use it, and dicks are dirty.”

I bring the ruler up sharply, a flat stroke against her lips, and I’m rewarded with the return of the low moan as Emily leans forward so she can push her hips back and rub against the ruler.

This girl has potential. And she’s impressed me: the book is still in place.

If she’s prepared to try for a C grade, I’ll need an educational resource I keep charged and safely locked in my desk.

Emily’s lesson continues in A, the Hard Way 3 — Completing the C

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