Detention With Professor Black

by Dinah McLeod

  "Michelle?"

  I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, trying to ignore the sound of his voice.

  "Michelle. You should be getting up."

  With a loud, regretful moan, I turned on my side and reluctantly opened my eyes. It had been such a wonderfully sweet dream…

  "Shouldn't you be up by now? I heard your alarm go off ten minutes ago."

  With an annoyed sigh, I rolled over to peer at my alarm clock. More like thirty. "Shit!" I exclaimed, throwing the covers back and bolting out of bed. It looked like I'd been enjoying my subconscious fantasy a little too much.

  "I'm heading out too. I'll be back in time for dinner."

  Mumbling a quick thank you, I ushered him out of my room so that I could begin getting dressed. While I would have loved to take care with my appearance, I didn't have the time. I threw on a black skirt that fell a few inches above the knee and a light pink sweater. I didn't have time for more makeup than lipstick—hell, I hardly had time to shove my feet into a pair of black pumps.

  Grabbing my purse, I raced out of the bedroom. I made a quick stop by the kitchen for a cup of coffee, even knowing I was going to have to drink it black. I wrinkled my nose in disgust at the thought, but it couldn't be helped. There was no time to stop for cream and sugar. Damn, I wished I had time.

  It figured that today was the day that traffic would be a nightmare. There were only three and a half miles between the house and the school, but I hit every single traffic light on the way. "What, do they put them up every five hundred feet?" I griped, grimacing as I took a swallow of lukewarm black coffee. Delicious.

  Finally, the light turned green and I hit the gas. Unfortunately for me, the guy in front of me didn't seem to be in a particular hurry and was going five under the speed limit. I honked at him, hoping he'd get the message, but it seemed to me like he was going slower.

  "Ugh!" I exclaimed, honking the horn again to no avail. I glanced at the road. I was currently in a no-passing zone, but if I didn't have time for cream and sugar then I sure as hell didn't have time for traffic laws. Putting on my blinker, I sped up, moved over and passed him before moving in front of him. It must have taken all of twenty seconds, and I was feeling triumphant at finally making some progress.

  It was, unfortunately, a feeling that was very short-lived as only moments later I heard the wail of a siren right before I spotted the flashing blue lights in my rearview mirror. "Nooo!" I moaned, slamming my head back in frustration as I pulled over. This day could not get any worse—and it was barely seven-thirty!

  As I waited for the cop to pull up behind me, I couldn't help but notice the car I'd passed driving by and giving me a cherry wave. I felt like showing him a few fingers of my own—maybe just one—but I was in enough trouble as it was.

  Please, let me be able to talk my way out of this, I prayed to the Powers That Be. I didn't want half of my first paycheck to go to paying a fine! I needed every bit of that money.

  Sometime in the middle of my agonizing and fervent pleas to the Universe, the police officer made his way to my window. I immediately rolled it down, praying he was a friend I would recognize.

  "Do you know why I pulled you over, Ma'am?" He was an older gentleman, and he called me Ma'am in a way that told me he wanted to call me missy instead.

  I debated for half a heartbeat. Honesty? Or denial? "Y—no, sir."

  "All righty, I pulled you over because you passed that Sonata in a no-passing lane."

  "Oh, really?" I gasped in pretend surprise. I might as well try to sell it. "Gosh, I am so sorry, Officer! I didn't realize."

  "Uh-huh." He lowered his sunglasses to peer at me. "Say, you're Shelley Johnson, aren't you? Mick Johnson's kid?"

  "Um…yeah," I replied as I wondered if he'd see that as a good thing or a bad thing.

  It didn't take me long to figure out as he gave me a grim little smile and shook his head. "Well, I guess it's true what they say. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

  I felt my stomach lurch in disappointment, even as I felt the sting of the insult. "Hey, wait a minute!" I cried indignantly. "That's not fair. You don't even know me!"

  "I know you don't care about obeying laws, or care about others' safety. That's enough, Ms. Johnson. License and registration, please."

  "Oh, forget it," I snapped. "You're already going to write me a ticket, do we have to go through this formality? I need to get to work."

  "So I see," he drawled mildly. "Don't worry, I'll do my best not to take up too much of your precious time. License and registration."

  With an annoyed huff, I flipped the glove box open and retrieved the documents, thrusting them at him like a weapon. I knew I wasn't doing anything to help my case, but at this point I doubted anything would. He'd already convicted me in his mind once he'd found out whom I was related to.

  I watched the clock with an eagle eye, groaning in frustration with every minute that passed. The officer seemed to be pointedly taking his time and the longer it took, the more furious I became. It just wasn't fair.

  "Finally," I muttered under my breath as I saw him approaching.

  "All right, Ms. Johnson, you're all set."

  I snatched the proffered documents from his hand, but his grin only widened. "Don't forget to have that ticket in by the end of the month. Drive safe now."

  Rolling my eyes, I turned my blinker on and began to pull back into traffic. The light was red once more and I was seething as I waited for it to change.

  By the time I arrived at the school, it was seven-forty-five and I practically ran down the hall. When I threw open the door, Crystal and Buddy called out excited greetings, seeming relieved that I'd come. When I saw who my replacement was, I couldn't blame them.

  "Sorry I'm late," I murmured, flushed from dashing across the parking lot and down the hall in heels.

  Josh didn't look one bit impressed with my apology. "I'm so glad you could make it, Ms. Johnson," he replied crisply, loud enough to be heard by the class. "Please see me in my office after school. We have some matters to discuss."

  I nodded, lowering my eyes to the floor as he passed. My heart began beating wildly, yet I couldn't hide the smile that crept to my face or the delicious thrill that coursed through me at his words.

  The day passed by all too quickly, from my point of view. I'd tried to stay focused on the kids and the lesson plan for the day, but I only succeeded half the time. I'd be in the middle of art class and remember how smoldering his eyes had looked when he'd told me to meet him after school. Or I'd recall that sexy lilt in his voice and I'd stand stock still, having to remind myself to breathe.

  By the time the last bell had rung and I was making my way down the hall to his office, I was a bundle of frazzled nerves. My footsteps sounded too loud as they echoed in an empty hallway and I couldn't help but notice that my mouth seemed to go dry as I approached his office. Not that I was afraid of him—only afraid of what I might feel. I knew I could walk away at any time, so why did I feel myself drawn to him?

  I stood in front of the doorway to his office for several long seconds, staring at Principal Black spelled out in bold, black letters and trying to work up the courage to go into his office. My tummy was twisting in nervous, excited knots just at the thought of seeing him and I knew that the reality would be so much better than even the image I'd drawn up of him in my head. So why did I hold back?

  I'd just raised my hand to knock on the door when suddenly it burst open and Julia Cobb stepped out.

  "Oh, hey!" The perky brunette greeted me. "How was your day?"

  "Um…" I couldn't help but notice how bright her eyes were, how flushed her cheeks. The sight of it made my gut twist enviously. I knew that look—at least, I was pretty sure it was close to how I looked after spending a few minutes in his presence.

  Julia seemed happily oblivious to my discomfort. "You know, I've been meaning to check in with you. As the only kindergarten teachers, we really should go have a drink sometime and commiserate. No o
ne knows better than me what hellions these little rug rats can be."

  I was so caught off guard by her offer that for a moment I forgot to be insanely jealous. "Oh, ah…sure. That would be…nice."

  "Great!" she chirped. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Have a nice night, Michelle." She started to walk away, but suddenly she stopped and turned to me. "I hope he goes easy on you." She winked at me, then giggled, probably at the way my mouth dropped open.

  I stared after her until she was out of sight, my mind whirling with questions. Did he… I turned to stare dubiously at the door that she'd left cracked an inch. Oh, man, now I really didn't want to go in there, not when she knew I'd been waiting for my turn to visit with him.

  Still, I squared my shoulders and marched in. He looked up as I entered and I couldn't help but remember my dream. The sharp images came flooding back, and the way he looked at me made me feel like he knew every single naughty thought I'd ever had and intended to make me pay for each one.

  "Thank you for coming, Ms. Johnson. You may close the door."

  I obeyed quickly, hesitating only for a second before I walked toward the cushy chair in front of his desk. I defiantly took a seat—dream be damned.

  Josh stared back at me steadily and didn't comment.

  "I ran into Julia on my way in," I commented. I'd meant it to be conversational, but even I couldn't miss the edge to my words.

  "Yes," he replied and left it at that.

  But I couldn't help but wonder: did he…had he spanked her? Is that what he did with all the poor, misguided teachers? I felt myself getting angry at the thought, even though I knew it was unfair. I could hardly have expected him to view me as special.

  "Shall we get down to business? All right then." He began flipping through a sheaf of papers until he found the page he sought. "Of course you know why you're here, Ms. Johnson. You've been inexcusably tardy for the last three days in a row. This is a most unbecoming habit and it won't be tolerated by this school, or by me. Is that understood?"

  "Yes, Sir." My voice was little more than a whisper.

  "Good. Now, to show you how serious I am, I've written up the offense and I want you to sign here." He turned the papers around and pushed them toward me, tapping his finger on a dotted line at the bottom.

  I stared at it without seeing, feeling suddenly unsure of what was going on.

  "It says that you understand why you're being reprimanded, that we've discussed the issue and you understand that further infractions could result in termination." He spoke calmly, his voice nothing more than matter-of-fact and I felt oddly disappointed.

  "What's this?"

  "It's your first write-up, Ms. Johnson."

  Somehow, the punishment felt cold and uncaring and as I looked back at him, my heart sank. "I see."

  "If you will sign there, please, then we can both go home." He handed me a black pen and I took it from him.

  I stared at the dotted line, my mind whirling. Somehow, after he'd spanked me that last time I'd thought I was special to him. It was stupid, obviously, but that was what I'd thought. Or maybe hoped would be a better word for it. I tapped the pen thoughtfully against the page, deliberating over what to do next.

  "Are you not going to sign?"

  I raised my eyes to his, biting down on my lip.

  "Michelle?"

  So relieved not to be called Ms. Johnson again, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Couldn't you just…you know. Do the other thing?"

  Josh

  The other thing? She couldn't mean…could she actually be asking me for a spanking? The very idea was absurd. So absurd that my cock was surging to life and my heart was pounding loudly in my ears. "Care to elaborate?" The flush of color in her cheeks told me exactly what I needed to know, but still I wanted to hear her say it.

  "You know…"

  "No, I'm afraid I don't." I knew it was mean, but it was worth it to see the way she shifted in the chair, perhaps already imagining her bottom pink and sore. I knew I was.

  "Could you spank me? Like before?" she entreated with quiet dignity.

  I leaned back in my chair, grinning with satisfaction—not that she noticed. She was keeping her eyes firmly glued to the top of my desk. "I don't think so, Ms. Johnson. After all, this is not a first offense. I'm afraid if I were to consider an alternate punishment, I wouldn't be inclined to go light on you."

  "I understand that, Sir."

  God, she was lovely. She was sweet and demure right now, but I'd seen the fire and life that she possessed, which made her submission all the more beautiful. I opened my top drawer and riffled around until my hand made contact with the handle of the paddle. I pulled it out of the drawer and held it out in front of me.

  Her eyes flickered to the instrument, widened, then flew to me. She stared at me for a long moment, panic and indecision flickering over her face, before she dropped her eyes again.

  "If I tear up this write-up, I'm going to spank you with this and it's going to hurt. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "And you're sure that's what you want?"

  Though I could see the effort it cost her, she met my eyes and gave a tiny, definitive nod. "I'm sure, Sir."

  I set the paddle down so that I could pick up the pile of papers. I tore them in half then and there; I didn't know that I'd ever heard a more satisfying sound. Well, except for the sound the paddle would make as it collided with her perfectly shaped bottom, that is. I could see the corners of her mouth lifting in a smile and felt a rush of affection for her. She was the first woman to ever ask for a spanking and I wasn't going to disappoint either of us.

  "Please bend over my desk, Ms. Johnson."

  The smile dissipated, leaving no trace that it had ever been there. Still, she stood and obeyed, bowing her body over my desk and balancing herself on her hands. I didn't think I'd ever seen a more enchanting sight.

  I strode around the desk and came to stand behind her, resisting the temptation to caress her luscious behind. "What am I going to do with you, Ms. Johnson?" I asked out loud, tsking softly, enjoying the way she nervously clenched and unclenched her buttocks. "It seems you're always getting yourself in trouble. Is this going to become a habit?"

  She turned her head to look at me, her dark blue eyes widened with anticipation. Was I only imagining the eagerness I thought I saw there?

  "Please turn around, Ms. Johnson. You'll be getting a dozen with the paddle."

  Her eyes went to it and then back to my face. "A dozen?"

  I laughed softly at the surprise on her face. "Yes, I suppose it does seem a bit low in comparison with your first punishment, but I assure you that a dozen with this—" I held up the implement, "is more than enough for me to teach you a memorable lesson."

  Her teeth began to work her bottom lip as she studied me. I didn't think she'd ever looked more adorable than she did right then. With nothing more than a nod, she turned back around and repositioned herself over the mahogany desk.

  I stepped behind her, practicing my stroke by landing several small taps to her behind. Though I knew there was no way they could be hurting her, she jumped with each one. Finally ready to begin, I drew my arm back and took aim. The paddle landed with a loud thwack, quickly echoed by her cry of distress as she wiggled on her tiptoes. I had a momentary urge to say something witty, but I refrained. I'd let the paddle do my talking for me, for now.

  Smack. She let out a low moan as the hard wood made contact with her bottom, but she didn't protest or try to stop me in any way. Whack it landed with a thud and this time she uttered a little cry. Though I was immensely enjoying the sight of her submitting to my chastisement, part of me wanted nothing more than to drop the paddle and pull her into my arms. This time, I'd make sure she let me.

  But no, I'd promised a dozen, so a dozen it must be. When the paddle came smacking down again, she let out a yelp and jumped up. I thought she'd whirl around and storm out, but after a moment she repositioned herself over the desk. M
y cock was straining against the prison of my pants, desperate for release.

  I made quick work of the remaining strokes; I delivered one every thirty seconds and though each one was a bit gentler than the one before it, you wouldn't know it to hear her piteous cries. By the time the twelfth landed, she was a bundle of sobs and quivers. I set the paddle down on my desk and turned to look at her. Her head was lowered and her dark blond hair was blocking my view of her eyes, but I could easily make out the tears running down her cheeks.

  A large part of me expected her to run, like she had the last time, so I gave her a few moments to decide. When she didn't seem interested in leaving, I took a step toward her and began lecturing in a low, firm voice. "When you agreed to work here, you agreed to abide by the school rules. One of those rules is that you show up on time. Now, I don't care what you need to do to make that happen—we can clean out the broom closet for you, if you want, but you do need to see that it happens. Do I make myself clear?"

  She nodded, sniffling.

  "Very good. It's very foolish to endanger your job over something so silly, Ms. Johnson. You're a smart woman, you know better than that."

  "Michelle."

  The words were a whisper, but I smiled to hear them. Not only was she not running, she wasn't talking to me like she despised me, either. Both were steps in the right direction. "You can do better than this, can't you, Michelle?"

  She raised her head to look at me, and even with tear-streaked cheeks and watery eyes, she took my breath away. I didn't know when these feelings for her had started, but there was no denying that they were there. "Yes, Professor."

  I smiled and took a step forward to brush her wet hair out of her face. "Good girl. Do you want me to hold you now?" Without answering, she stepped into my arms, clinging to me as if for dear life. She buried her face in my shirt and cried for a few more minutes as I patted her back and soothed her the best I could. As sorry as I was for the pain that I caused her, the way she held on to me made it hard to feel much in the way of guilt, especially when the lesson had been so deserved.