Teach Me Something New, Part 1

by Summer Olsen

  “So,” my mother asked, drawing out the word until it had more syllables than the Dead had followers. “How are things going?”

  This was her subtle way of asking if I’d gotten into trouble lately. We had this discussion every time they visited. I’d never gotten myself into any really dire straits, but I did seem to have a knack for finding trouble. Getting kicked out of bars, disturbing the peace, breaking furniture in ill advised indoor stunts, starting fights between other people (my big mouth again), flunking out of a course because I took a long vacation to Tijuana. All these were things that happened to me regularly.

  Until recently, of course. Even my friends had noted that the out-every-night, dancing on the bar party girl seemed to have suddenly disappeared. Little did anyone know it was because I was spending my nights at home surfing bondage porn and masturbating my fingers raw fantasizing about my literature professor.

  I thought of the note he’d given me yesterday, and class tomorrow, and squirmed in my seat a little. “Good, actually, mom. I’m getting all B’s and A’s, as far as I can tell. I haven’t gotten fined for anything in at least three months either.”

  My dad patted my hand, smiling through his thick beard. “That’s good, honey. Real good. You know we hate to see you getting in trouble.”

  “Unless it’s for a good cause, right Dad?”

  He frowned. “Well, yes.”

  I squeezed his hand back. My mom took a bite of her vegetarian lasagna and eyed me. “You do seem to have settled down a little. I can’t deny I worry sometimes that you’re a little too wild.”

  “Says the woman who got pregnant with me in a field at an outdoor music festival,” I quipped with a snort.

  “Yes honey, but you’re not me,” she said, softly. I thought about Ryan smacking my knuckles with the ruler, and how wet it had made me.

  “No mom, I’m not. But I’m good, I swear. Better than good.”

  She eyed me intently. I didn’t wither under her gaze, as I might have once, unsure of myself. My feet and knees were together and I rested my hands on the table. Not flat, because I held my silverware, but the posture was close enough, and I felt Ryan’s approval like a blanket around my shoulders.

  “Who is he?” mom asked.

  “A teacher,” I replied.

  My dad sighed. “Are you sleeping with him?”

  I answered honestly. “No. Though not for lack of trying on my part.”

  “Honestly, Lucy. Some things never change. Your outspokenness seems to be one of them.” My mother rolled her eyes. “He seems to be having a positive effect on you, at least. Can we meet him?”

  “Maybe. Someday.” I didn’t exactly know where our relationship, strange as it was, was going. Introducing him to the parental units seemed like something that should wait until there was something more than a little dominance play between us.

  I left my parents to argue the ethics of teacher-student relationships while I went to the ladies’ room. On the way back, I saw a familiar face at one of the tables. I was a little startled to run into him again so soon, and paused in my tracks, unsure what to do.

  Jeremy noticed me and waved a hand. I went over to his table, smiling.

  “Lucy,” he said. “Nice to see you again. You look lovely. Are you here with Ryan?”

  I blinked, a little surprised he would think so. “Uh, no. My parents are in town and they love this place. Why would I be here with Professor Sherwood?” I couldn’t help but wonder if Ryan had said something to make him think we were dating or something. But he just quirked one dark brow at me and then motioned to the woman sitting with him. I hadn’t really noticed her until now.

  “Excuse me, how rude of me not to introduce my guest. Lucy, this is--”

  But now that I’d looked at her face, I realized I recognized her. “Penny Clearwater!”

  She blinked gorgeous, bright green eyes at me and flushed slightly. The curvaceous redhead had been a bikini weather girl a few years back and all the college guys had watched her religiously. I’d been murderously envious of her lush body. She smiled. “Nice to meet you, Lucy. You’re a friend of Mr. Tinsdale’s?”

  “Who?” I asked. This seemed to confuse her. She nodded at Jeremy. I laughed. “Oh, Jeremy. No, we just met yesterday. I’m a friend of a friend, I guess you could say.”

  “We’re not friends, Lucy? I’m wounded.” He pressed a mock hand to his heart, fluttering absurdly long lashes at me.

  “You’ll survive,” both Penny and I said at the same time, and shared a laugh. The redhead’s laugh was sultry, even to me, and I saw the flare of attraction in Jeremy’s eyes. I figured it was probably time for me to head back to my own table.

  “Well,” I said, smiling. “It was nice to see you again, Jeremy. Penny, it’s a total honor to meet you. I’m such a fan.”

  She blushed prettily. “Thank you, Lucy. It’s wonderful to meet you too.”

  “Do me a favor?” Jeremy asked. “Next time you run into Ryan on the quad, tell him he owes me a story.”

  I frowned. “Okay, I will.” I didn’t ask, but I had a buzzing feeling in my chest and thought I might know just what kind of story Jeremy wanted to hear. Did it bother me, the idea of Ryan telling his friends what we were doing? I wasn’t sure. “I’d better get back before my parents think I ditched them.”

  I waved to Penny a final time and made my way back to the table, turning over the idea of other people knowing I was being dominated.

  * * *

  The next class was torture. I thought I’d gotten used to sitting still for such a long period of time, and I had, but the added element of being bare beneath my skirt had ratcheted up the tension. My thighs were slick with my wetness. My hands clenched and unclenched on my pen when I wasn’t taking notes. I didn’t ask a single question or make even one comment during class discussion. I didn’t dare open my mouth, in case I moaned or begged Professor Sherwood to touch me.

  It was odd that such a small thing could get me so turned on. It’s not as if I was flashing my pussy around. As usual, I kept my feet and knees together. Even someone deliberately looking up my skirt wouldn’t be able to see anything. But the knowledge that I was naked beneath the thin skirt, and knowing he knew I was, had me near orgasm for the full hour. My gaze never left him as he paced and lectured, writing on the board. I followed the strong line of his shoulders and the muscles of his back, the length of his long legs, so often with my eyes I could have carved him.

  As everyone filed out, he gave me a slight nod and motioned toward the rear door to lecture hall, the one that led to his office. I went out, waiting by his door as he finished speaking with one of the other students. My knees were trembling. I leaned heavily against the dark wood wall, hoping I wouldn’t collapse to the floor in orgasm before he even showed up.

  I didn’t. He arrived a few moments later, grey eyes hot as they scanned my body. He opened the door without speaking and ushered me inside without touching me. I think if he had, I would have come. I heard the click of the lock and couldn’t bite back the small whimper that escaped. He chuckled, moving around me to his desk.

  “You did very well today, Miss Montgomery. I’m very pleased with you.”

  I shuddered at the words, cheeks flushing, and a wide smile stretched my lips. “Thank you, sir.”

  “However,” he said, opening the top desk drawer. “Your skirt is too short.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly. “E-excuse me, sir?”

  He approached me slowly, ruler in hand, expression solemn. “I instructed you to wear a skirt that reached your knees. That one does not.” He indicated the hem of my lemon yellow skirt. “Kneel.”

  My pussy clenched as I did as he bade me. My eyes dropped to the fly of his slacks and I licked my lips. He shook his head at me. “No, Miss Montgomery. You will not be rewarded for bad behavior.”

  I jerked my gaze up to his, aroused and embarrassed that he’d guessed what I was thinking. “Of course not, sir,” I whisp
ered.

  He touched my hair lightly, gently. “Don’t be embarrassed. Wanting to please me is something you never have to be embarrassed about. Understand?”

  “Yes,” I breathed, heart hammering at the implication of his words. My thighs slid slickly against each other as I shifted restlessly.

  “Good,” he said. “Now, I had you kneel for a reason. Tell me, Miss Montgomery, does your skirt’s hem touch the floor?”

  I glanced down in surprise. The thin, bright yellow fabric ended about an inch above the floor. “No, sir.” The sir’s came so easy, as if I had been waiting all my life to say them to someone. Perhaps I had.

  He tsk-tsked, slapping the ruler lightly on his palm. I twitched each time it made contact with a light thwack. “Exactly. It does not reach the floor, therefore it does not reach your knees. Understand?”

  I licked my dry lips again. “Yes, sir.” I’d known it hadn’t quite reached my knees, but had figured he wouldn’t notice. It was barely an inch. What man noticed hardly an inch difference in hem lengths?

  “Up,” he commanded. I was on my feet as if he’d yanked my strings, nipples hard as diamonds in my bra. The slight chafe of the lace made me want to weep for more contact. My pussy pulsed in time with my thundering heart. He moved around me, pulling the straight-backed chair off to the side of the desk. My breath caught in my throat.

  “I instructed you to wear a skirt that reached your knees. True?”

  I shivered at the stern tone in his voice. “Yes, sir.”

  Thwack. The ruler struck his palm again. I jumped. Thwack, again. “Does that skirt reach your knees?”

  My voice was a rasp. “No, sir.”

  He stood behind me now, but I didn’t dare turn to look. “And did you know it did not reach your knees when you left home? Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

  I clenched my hands into fists to keep them out of my pussy. I desperately wanted to touch myself. This slow build to what I knew was coming had me on the knife edge of coming. “Yes, sir. I knew and I thought you wouldn’t notice.”

  His hand stroked my ponytail briefly. I whimpered. He chuckled. “Good girl. I wouldn’t have liked it if you lied. Now then, we’ve established that you knowingly disobeyed. What happens when you disobey?”

  I squeezed my eyes closed tight, trembling with need. “I get punished,” I gasped.

  “Lean forward and put your hands flat on the desk.” His voice was husky now too, deep and firm. I did as I was told, fingernails biting into the wood surface as I braced myself on my arms. This was it. I had presented myself to him, and he was behind me holding that ruler. I was going to get spanked by Professor Sherwood. The thought had my knees buckling and I swayed on my feet. I locked them to keep myself upright.

  “Spread your legs shoulder-width apart,” he said at my ear. I did, feeling the cool air strike the bare, wet flesh of my cunt. My inner walls spasmed at the sensation. His hand stroked my ass through my skirt. I almost bit through my lip at the feel of his big, warm hand finally touching me. He caressed me lightly as he spoke.

  “You will get five strokes for wearing a skirt that does not reach your knees, and five strokes for thinking I would not notice. Do you understand, Miss Montgomery?”

  I was practically weeping. “Yes, Professor Sherwood.”

  “This will hurt,” he assured me. The words caused a sharp arrow of pleasure in my belly. He continued. “You may not cry out. Would you like something to bite down on?”

  I contemplated that for only a second. I thought it unlikely I’d be able to keep from crying out at all, but having something to bite on might help. “Yes, sir.”

  I could have bitten off my own tongue when he lifted his hand from my ass and moved around his desk. He bent to the third drawer, the drawer with the stroke mags, and pulled out a small wooden box. He set it down, opened the lid, and lifted something out. He extended it to me and I saw it was a short bit of caramel colored leather, perhaps four inches long, with the words ‘Bad Girl’ stamped on it.

  My eyes flew to his. This was a gift for me, I could see that. Warm bloomed in my chest like wild rose. “Thank you, sir.”

  He nodded in acknowledgement and I parted my lips, letting him place the bit between my teeth. We shared a moment of eye contact as I clamped down on the small gift that was so intense I felt it inside my pussy. Deep inside. As if he’d thrust into me. I sucked in a sharp breath through my nose. I saw his jaw tighten and knew he’d felt something too.

  He moved around behind me again. I felt the shock of cool air as he flipped my skirt up onto my back, baring my naked ass. I heard his soft groan and the sound caused my heart to rattle the cage of my ribs. He was looking at me, the soft white globes of my ass cheeks and the glistening lips of my pussy peeking between my spread legs, parted to show my dark pink inner folds. My head dropped forward on my heaving chest as a shudder of pleasure rippled through me. I felt his hand on my ponytail, drawing my head back up. He held me there with one hand, chin jutting. I was staring at the bookshelf behind his desk, with its classical texts.

  I waited, breathing hard through my nose. For the touch of his hand or the smack of the ruler. But neither came. My arms and legs were trembling so I thought I might collapse. Just as some of my feverish excitement began to ebb and my bare skin began to grow cold, I heard the whistle of the ruler cutting through the air. Seconds later came the first, loud SMACK.

  At first, I didn’t feel it. I thought perhaps he’d struck his own palm again. And then heat and pain blossomed in my left cheek, radiating outward like an atomic blast. I bit down hard on my leather bit, glad for its presence as I tried to swallow my whimper. Before the pain from the first stroke had fully dissipated, he landed another on my right cheek. Again, for a split second I didn’t feel it at all, and then it detonated my nerve endings.

  He did not hit the same place twice. He alternated sides with each stroke, up and down the entire cheek, four strokes each. Heat wrapped around my ass, spreading down over my dripping pussy. The buzzing sting of my nerve endings felt like a vibration beneath my skin. The last two strokes fell on my upper thighs, just below my throbbing sex, and sent me over the edge. I came hard, shaking and shuddering and whimpering around the bit in my mouth.

  It seemed to go on and on. Each time the pleasure ebbed, the heat and throb of my stinging flesh would set it off again. Only his hand gripping my ponytail kept me from sliding to floor, overwhelmed with delicious sensation. When my orgasm, or orgasms - it was hard to tell if I’d had many little ones after each other, or one big, long one - finally subsided I was panting for air, drooling around the bit and tears were wet on my cheeks. I had never, ever in my life had an orgasm like that. Every single inch of my skin felt satisfied, every nerve and muscle. Even my organs, my teeth and hair, felt as if they’d come.

  Professor Sherwood let go of my hair. He flipped my skirt back down over my tender ass, once again caressing me gently through the thin fabric. I moaned softly at the feel of his hand on my abused backside. It was pain and pleasure at the same time. I could not physically come any more, and yet my body wanted to respond to his touch. He stroked and kneaded for a minute before setting aside the ruler and gripping my shoulders. He raised me from my bent position, cradling me gently in his arms. He took the bit from my mouth, placing it back in the wooden box, and wiped the saliva from the corners of my mouth with his thumb. He stroked my hair back from my flushed, sweaty, tear-streaked face and smiled at me.

  “You did well, Lucy. I am very pleased with you.”

  I snuggled closer to him, smiling, beginning to feel lethargic. But he forced me to meet his eyes. “What did you learn?”

  I thought back to what he’d said before giving me my punishment. “I should have known you’d notice.”

  He nodded, eyes warm with affection. “Good girl. I will notice everything about you. So do not think you can fool me.”

  “Yes, sir.” I did tuck my head beneath his chin then, enjoying the comfort. My as
s was still throbbing and stinging, but the pain was far away and sort of pleasant. “Thank you, sir.”

  “You’re welcome, Lucy.” He kissed my forehead. “Go home now and rest. Take a few aspirin and drink plenty of water. Have something sweet if you like, but call it an early night.”

  I yawned. I didn’t think that was going to be a problem. “Yes, sir.”

  He let me go, circling his desk to put the ruler and the wooden box back in his desk. “If you behave on Friday, you will get a reward after class. If not, you’ll get another punishment. Understand?”

  The mention of a reward made me smile. “Yes, sir.”