The Lecture


Sexy, Nummy, Stern Professor ::::swoon::::

I’ve fallen in love with a page on Tumblr @spankingtheater and it can be reached here https://spankingtheatre.tumblr.com/

If you love spanking stories, this is the site for you.  Yesterday, the moderator put a one-sided, first person POV Lecture on his blog and encouraged readers to write the second half–the submissive/spankee side of the story.  I couldn’t leap quick enough.  I’ve decided to share this collaboration and hope you all enjoy it. (My side is in italics:)

The Lecture

I stood at the door, my heart racing.  He had said I’d be punished, my belly flipped just hearing the word, but my clit throbbed with need. My traitorous body. I squeezed my thighs tight, rubbing the bundle of nerves but instead of finding relief it ramped up my arousal.  I pulled in a shaky breath and whispered to myself, “Just get it over with.” 

The silence was broken by two weak, hesitant knocks on the door.

“Come in.”

I turned the doorknob on the thick mahogany door, the hinge creaking as I entered.  The snick of the latch engaging sounded loud in the darkened den.

I tugged on my skirt. It was just too damn short, and I felt…vulnerable.  I gazed at the large, handsome professor rounding his desk stalking toward me with a wolfish grin.

“Ah, all dressed up in your school uniform, like a naughty little girl.”

“Yes, Sir.”  I couldn’t look him directly in the eye.  He was too close, and I bowed my head and shoulders, staring at the floor, wishing it would swallow me up, thus thwarting this day and the dreaded punishment. 

“Head up, girl. I’m not talking from your feet. Stand up straight.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You know how naughty girls are punished in this school?”

I shuffled my feet, rubbing the toe of my black Mary Janes on the polished pine floor. “They’re sp-spanked, S-sir.”

“Yes, young lady. And how are they spanked?”

“On their bare bottoms, Professor.”  And although I tried valiantly, my hands made their way to cover my backside. 

“That’s right; naughty girls have their panties pulled right down, and get a good hard spanking on their bare bottoms.”

On the bare?  I had hoped to avoid that, I mean…he’s my professor, not my Daddy.  He’d see my treasures.  How will I protect my privacy? 

“Take off your skirt. Fold it neatly. Place it on the table.”

Oh, God!  I turned looking at the mahogany drum table near what I assumed was the “spanking chair”—a straight-backed chair with no arms.  I unzipped the side of my red plaid skirt, folding it neatly and placing it on the table, near the Tiffany lamp that emitted an amber glow to the otherwise austere office.  My uniform-regulation white panties were partially hidden by my white blouse, but I knew that he could still see my pale buttocks through the material. 

“Pull down your panties.”

“My panties?”  This was bad enough, but to completely bare myself to him seemed to be an impossible task. I looked into his deep green eyes hoping to find mercy, but instead, I found a steely determination that didn’t bode well for my bottom. 

“All the way down. Take them off. Give them to me.”

My hands had begun to tremble, but I was a smart girl—most of the time—and I knew when I should submit and obey. 

I hooked my thumbs into the waistband and pushed them down, the damp gusset catching between my thighs. 

Opening my legs just a bit, let the white cotton snap free from my pussy, and I dragged them down my thighs letting them slip down my legs to puddle at my shoes. With shaky legs, I stepped out of my underwear and handed them to him. 

“What’s this, girl? You’ve made a mess in them! Obviously, you find a visit to be disciplined exciting. Dirty little minx.”

I had desperately hoped he wouldn’t notice how my arousal had dripped on them.  And I wasn’t excited about a spanking, that’s just silly.  Isn’t it?  I mean my clit has been throbbing, but isn’t that from fear as well? 

“Open wide, girl. There, you can keep your soiled panties in your mouth.”

“Oh, no! Please, Sir.” 

“Much better. Gagged with your own sticky knickers.”

My mouth had been dry with fright already; now the absorbent cotton made me so parched I felt I was near choking. 

“Legs apart. You know your bare slit has to be inspected before punishment.”

I spread my legs as requested, and my juices pooled at the entrance of my sex.  I said a silent prayer that my honey wouldn’t drip.

“Good. Bare and smooth. And very wet.”

Surely he must smell my scent; I felt like my musky arousal hung in the dank room. 

“Now go and stand beside the spanking chair.”

“Yes, Sir.”  On wobbly knees, I shuffled to the chair and couldn’t help but wonder how many girls and women before me had been disciplined over this man’s knees on this very chair. Were they all afraid as I was?  Did their bellies flip and the urge to pee feel unbearable?  

“Hands on your head.”

I laced my hands together, the palms sweaty against my fine blonde hair.  The air in the room brushed along my bare bottom, now that my blouse had left it completely uncovered to his view. 

“Not so willful and cheeky now, are we, young lady?”

“N-no, Sir.” 

“A scolding beside the spanking chair, about to get a good whacking on your bare bottom.”

I clenched my bottom involuntary at the word “whacking” and wondered what implement the Professor would use.  I’ve heard of many spanking weapons in this room and had always hoped that none of them would meet my buttocks.  Alas, I was wrong.  

“My goodness, your face has flushed quite pink. Your pretty little bum is going to be a similar shade very soon.”

I shuffled my feet, staring at the carpet, the humiliation beyond what I had anticipated, and I am now truly fearful of the pain, unsure if I can handle it stoically or if I’ll cry like a small child. 

“You remember my leather spanking slipper. Just the thing for naughty schoolgirls.”

“Oh, no, Sir.” 

The dark-haired punisher seated before me smirks at me, slapping the slipper against his hand.

The smacking sound making me jump, and tears quickly filled my eyes.  The time has come, and I fought the urge to run out of the room.  I glanced at the door and contemplated my chances of running out of here unscathed. 

“Bend over my lap, young lady…”

I choked on a sob and resolutely eased myself onto his hard thighs.  My feet found purchase on the floor, and kept me from tumbling off of him. 

“That’s it, legs spread apart. Hands on the floor.”

I had wrapped my right hand around his ankle for stability…and assurance.  But with his order, I quickly let go and placed both palms on the cold, hardwood.  He has me bent in such a way, I couldn’t clench, but my body stiffened in preparation, and I held my breath waiting for the painful first slap. 

“You are a very… very… naughty girl.”

Each word is punctuated with a hard slap of the leather slipper, and I grimaced, holding in any reaction, wanting to prove that I’m a grown woman and a brave one at that.  

“You deserve a good… long… slippering.”

He continued to march the implement up and down my rump, and when he focused on my sit spots, I sobbed out loud and attempted to cover my bottom with my feet.  Anything to protect the inflamed flesh. 

“I don’t want to see your feet kicking, young lady.”

“It hurts!”  I cried openly now and obediently dropped my feet back to the floor not wanting to incur any further punishment or wrath. 

“How does it feel to be getting spanked like a silly little girl.”

“N-not, so g-good. Ow, ow!”

“This naughty bum is turning a lovely shade of pink.”

I cried pitifully; my hand had left the floor, grasping his ankle, squeezing it tightly as the pain increased.  I had wanted him to know how desperately I tried to keep my hands down, and yet know that I was dying…actually dying.  Is it possible that I could end up in the hospital for a spanking? 

“Let’s pause for a moment so that I can inspect you.”

Inspect me how?  My pussy?  My bottomhole? 

“Lie still whilst I spread your bottom cheeks.”

I groaned loudly.  With everything I had been through today, I didn’t think the degradation could get any worse.  Inspect my bottomhole?  Who does that? 

“You do have a warm bum!”

I fought the urge to yell, “No DUH!”  Self-preservation won over my sassy mouth, which admittedly was a rarity, but desperate times called for desperate measures. 

“What a pretty little hole. Do you find this humiliating, young lady, having your bottom examined?”

Yes, Sir.”  What is he looking at?  How different are assholes?  The way he was pulling my cheeks apart, I wondered if my little hole was open and winking at him when I clenched. 

“And I see your pretty little slit is glistening. Are you enjoying your punishment? You are a naughty girl!”

“N-No, Sir! It hurts.”  Why would my pussy drip with need when I suffered so mightily?  Was I masochist after all? 

“Let’s carry on.”

“But you already spanked me.  I don’t deserve any more.  Please, Sir.”  I looked over my shoulder at him, and he narrowed his gaze at me, his lips thinned.

“A good hard whacking is just what you deserve, young lady.”

I wanted to quibble the point with him but again chose to be restrained in my replies. 

“You know I have to be very strict.”

The smacks during this round were harder and faster.  I felt myself losing control, unable to hold back my reactions to the searing slaps 

“Spanked like a schoolgirl over my knee.”

“A good old-fashioned bottom warming.”

I screeched around my panties, my hands clawing at the floor, my hips waggling with the desire to avoid the smacks—to no avail, of course.  

“I am glad I put those panties in your mouth. Good girls should take their spankings with decorum, without silly begging and pleading.”

“A dozen more…”

“N-no,” I whined around the cotton, shaking my head back and forth recklessly, my hair sticking to the tears and snot from my wailing. 

“That’s it, good girl.”

I collapsed on his lap, my body slumping in exhaustion. 

My body hiccupped with the sobs, evidence of my remaining misery.  

What’s that??  I feel…oh my God; it’s his cock.  His erection is pressing into my hip, throbbing and pulsing with his need.  Was the professor turned on from spanking me?

“You may stand up now, but no rubbing…”

His large hands braced my hips, holding me upright lest I should fall to the floor.  It took more resolve than I anticipated to keep my hands from my backside, the abraded skin throbbing from my punishment.  

“Now go stand with your nose in the corner.”

Even though I expected to stand in the corner, I always forgot how one felt like a small child.  My poor bottom exposed, forced to thinking of my sins, vowing never to let this happen again, knowing that my punisher is staring at his handiwork.  

“Reach behind, and hold your spanked cheeks apart. Wider, please. You know naughty girls expose their bottom holes.”

What was it with this man and bottom holes?  Must I show him my arse – it’s not bad enough that he slippered it, leaving it bruised, no doubt.  Now I need to put my little hole on display also? 

“I hope that’s not  a pout on your face, young lady…”

I quickly shook my head.  No need to piss the spanker off.  I needed to just get through this and get out of this den. 

“How embarrassing that must be, on display, holding your sore pink bottom open.”

If I weren’t so sore, I’d give him a tongue lashing—and not the fun kind either.  How dare he humiliate me to such a degree.  I pounded my small Mary Jane foot on the hard pine, the floor shaking 

“Did you just stomp your foot, young lady?!”

I stiffened but was smart enough not to answer. 

“Clearly you still haven’t learnt your lesson. But I’ve just the cure for petulant little girls.”

I shuttered my eyes, tears leaking from the corners.  What did that mean?  Would I be spanked again?  I didn’t think I could handle that

“Keep that nose in the corner, and your bottom open. I don’t want to see you turning around.”

I pulled my cheeks apart, the skin at the pucker stinging with the strain. My hands cupping my bottom burned, the heat is much more than I would have guessed from a spanking. 

“Come here, girl!”

Releasing my cheeks, I stood straight, pivoting in the corner.  I took mincing steps toward him, stopping at the spot he was pointing to, waiting for further orders.  

“Shoes and socks off.”

I tilted my head in confusion.  Why my shoes and socks?  It seemed to be an odd request, although I had heard of people spanking the soles of one’s feet.  Dear God, if you are merciful, please don’t let him spank my feet. 

“Now, I have a nice fresh pair of punishment panties for you. Step into them, and I’ll pull them up, nice and tight.”

What the fuck are punishment panties?  I’ve had panties pulled down, no panties, period panties, sexy panties…but punishment panties was a new one on me.  I’m sure my face conveyed my confusion.  Ow!  Ow!  He tugged them up so much that they burned my bottomhole and slipped between the puffy lips of my labia.  

“That’s it, nice and tight between your slit.”

Once again, I dropped my head in shame, whining behind my panties still gagging my mouth.   And now my ’punishment´panties were successfully chafing my sensitive pouch.  

“I don’t want to hear any whining, young lady.”

I immediately stopped and shifted trying to slip the material out of my slit. 

“Did you notice that hook on the wall? Perhaps I’ll take you over there, and lift you up, and hang you up by your punishment panties.”

Oh my God, he can’t be serious!  “N-no, N-no!”  I moaned, furiously shaking my head.   I couldn’t…wouldn’t allow it. 

“Such wide eyes. Don’t shake your head at me, young lady. I’m the one in charge.”

“It’s so cute when you think you get to have a choice.”

He dragged me to the dreaded hook, and I leaned back, tugging my arm from his grip like it was a venomous snake.  I think I would have preferred a snake than being hung from a hook by my panties.  Again, I looked toward the door, and then his muscled arms, wondering if my scrappy and wiry body could fight him enough to escape this defilement.  

“Up we get. See how easily I can pick you up.”

Oh, Shit!  He scooped me up like I weighed nothing…absolutely nothing.  I kicked and waved my arms, but with very little struggle he hooked me and stood back grinning at me like a cat who’d eaten the mouse.  

“There we go, hooked into the back of your panties.”

My feet pounded against the walls until I realized that the burn in my labia had become unbearable. 

“Now I can leave you to dangle by your panties.”

“If you struggle, they’ll only pull tighter!”

Like an insect, I did my best to crawl up the wall, digging my hands and feet onto the surface, but once my footing slipped, I shrieked in pain. 

“I’m sure you can feel the rubbing fabric hot against your bottom hole now.”

I nodded pathetically, tears tracking down my cheeks.  My poor little bottomhole throbbed, the burning pain searing.  How long would he keep me here? 

“You’re going to have such a sore pink stripe between your legs when I’ve finished with you, aren’t you?”

I nodded again, quietly crying.  I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so dejected…and unloved.  Did he mean to break my spirit?  Because if that was his goal, I felt it may happen today. 

“How cute you are, dangling by your panties, whimpering on your panty gag.”

I cried even harder now. 

“I’m greatly looking forward to pulling down your punishment panties and inspecting your sore messy slit.”

The panties were pulled so tightly into the creases of my sex that I was surely bleeding.  I attempted to climb up the wall to give myself relief, but instead, I just flailed hopelessly. 

“You can kick your little legs all you want, young lady, but I’m leaving you to dangle.”

“Perhaps I’ll put this little potty underneath you.”

I stilled, my eyes widening.  Did he just say a potty?  For what? So I can urinate?  I was glad the gag was in my mouth, or I would have yelled, “You lost your fucking mind!”  And more than likely would have earned myself a whipping in the process.  

“Now you can dangle there until you wet yourself.”

Wet myself?  I refuse!  What I need to do though, is inch my fingers beneath the seam of cloth giving my sensitive tissue some relief.  I tried to slide my finger under the material…and tried…and tried

“It’s no use, girl, your panties are too tight to permit your fingers any relief.”

“Have you learned your lesson? Are you going to be a good girl?”

I vigorously nodded my head. 

“This is what happens to naughty girls in this school.”

“I think I’ll just stand here and watch you kick your little feet as your panties dig deeper.”

I slumped into my punishment panties, allowing the whole of my body weight to press into them.  Defeated, I hung my head in despair. 

“Are you close to wetting yourself?”

I nodded, turning my head to look down the hallway toward the bathroom.  Please, Dear God, let him take me down. 

“No, young lady, you’ll be staying up there. I’m going to wait here and watch as you wet yourself.”

“I bet you’re feeling the need to pee growing, already so warm and wet between your legs.”

I crossed my legs, pressing my thighs together to stave off the urge, clenching the muscles of my urethra sphincter.  I looked at Sir, pleading silently for release from this hook.   

“That’s it, girl; you know Sir is in control.”

It was no use. My sphincter released, and I sobbed once my urine traveled down the urethra, seeping between my puffy labia, warming the irritated flesh.

“Now feel the warmth spreading through your punishment panties and seeping down your dangling legs. Can you hear it dripping into the potty?”

I could hear it.  The sound and evidence of my abject degradation and humiliation, my utter and complete submission to Sir dripping in a steady stream into a child-sized potty chair. 

“That’s a good girl.”

His voice had softened—was that a bit of pity I heard?  Or pride that I’d done it under his direction and authority?  And why did my ego feels such pleasure from his words, even as urine dripped from my toes into a child’s potty?  The objectification had me mortified  

“What’s it’s like to wet your punishment panties?”

I couldn’t answer, but if I could, what would I say?  It wasn’t pleasant, or positive, or even arousing.  But my pussy dripped with the control he exerted over me, my clit throbbed with need, and I wanted to be held by my punisher, coddled and stroked. I needed to hear that I’d been a good girl for obeying. 

“Quite contrite now, it seems.”

He became blurry as my eyes filled with tears, I nodded calmly.  I was contrite…and a very sad and sorry girl, indeed. 

“Now, let’s get you down again. All gathered up in my big strong arms.”

Just as he had easily hooked me on the peg, he took me down as effortlessly.  His sinewed arms cradled me, and I nestled my head into his neck.  I had survived my punishment.  And I prayed that it was indeed over.  

“A big hug for my special little girl.”

He squeezed me tightly, murmuring and cooing in my ear.  He stood me up on the floor, holding me until I found my feet. 

“Now, I’m going to pull down your wet panties.”

Slipping my panties down, they slid into a roll and fell down my legs like a twine of rope, and I stepped out of them, toe-ing them aside, and he pulled the panty gag from my mouth, rubbing the red sores at the corners. 

“Bend over like an obedient little girl whilst I inspect your stripe.”

My lip pouted, but I quickly bent over, grasping my knees tightly, the air cool on my still wet backside, my bottomhole stinging with the movement. 

“Hold your bottom apart.”

Cupping my cool bottom, I pulled my cheeks apart, groaning inwardly at the embarrassment that he was peering at my little pucker, with the stench of my urine still on my skin. 

“Ah yes, there we are – a lovely pink stripe from clit to bottom hole!”

I clenched in reaction to his words, my juices gushing inside me, and my anal sphincter clenching in unison. 

“Stay in position, and I’ll use this towel to dry you.”

The soft terrycloth towel, smelling of fabric softener and lavender, lightly brushed along my bottom and legs, wiping away the evidence of my bladder’s release and subsequent humiliation.  

“And oh… what’s this?”

“There seems to be a wetness here… of a completely different kind entirely…”

My sex throbbed and I pushed my bottom back onto the towel, urging him to insert his fingers…or cock into my pussy.  I needed a release, wanted to scream with my orgasm and suck his cock until he reached his completion as well. 

We made eye contact and then both of us grinned at each other before embracing and kissing.  Sir scooped me up dragging me down the hallway to our bedroom.  Who knew when I misbehaved in class today that my husband would give me such a wonderful punishment session as this…I’d have to wait to see what was in store for me next week during our weekly maintenance.  

I’m hoping for future collaborations on this site, if you’d like to try your hand at this one, go to the site and give it a whirl.  Let me know if you do:)

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