Educated

by Gray Gardner

  “Well, you’re the only one who’s going to be sore,” he smirked, pushing her ankle back down as her legs swung in the air and a Kate Spade shoe flew past his nose. He took a deep breath and tried to remember that he had to get through the discipline part first. “And I don’t want you to be quiet.”

  “What?” she snapped, suddenly freezing as she felt the skirt of her dress swish upwards and fall onto her back. She couldn’t move and she certainly couldn’t speak at the moment. Oh God, what underwear was she wearing? She couldn’t believe he’d just done that!

  Dr. Frasier was frozen, as well. He was now staring at her perfect little ass underneath the prettiest laciest black panties he’d ever seen… along with about 2 inches of bare thigh, and then the lacy tops of her cream colored tights. She wore thigh-highs? He adjusted her on his lap so she couldn’t feel how much it really turned him on. He cleared his throat and focused as she began pleading with him.

  “Please, Dr. Frasier! Please! I’m sorry!” she gasped, flattening her hands as he angled her on his left leg and the foot of the bed, trying to push up and off of him.

  “Why are you here, Mary Madeline?” he asked as she struggled underneath his hands.

  “Because I got into a fight and I’m sorry!”

  He raised his hand and brought it down hard. The sound shocked the both of them, but he recovered quickly. “And should a grad student be getting into fights?” He smacked her again.

  “Ow! No!”

  Smack! “No?”

  “No sir!” she answered, trying to catch her breath. This hurt so much more than the last time, with only her tiny underwear protecting her.

  “Good girl. Why else are you here?” Smack!

  “Ow! Because I went to jail!”

  “Do good girls get arrested and go to jail?” Smack!

  “N-no!” she replied, her voice cracking. He was hitting her hard. Then he hit her again and she clenched her teeth. “No sir.”

  “Who gets arrested and sent to jail?” he asked, bringing his hand down hard again.

  Oh God, he wasn’t going to make her say it, was he? He brought his hand down twice more as she hesitated, so she just conceded.

  “Bad girls.”

  “And which are you?” Smack!

  Jesus. This seemed to have also been a lesson in pushing aside her pride. She took in a breath and replied, “I’m a good girl.”

  He paused and let his hand rest on her perky ass, now very warm as she squirmed a little bit underneath his grasp. Unfortunately that had been the easy part. He took a breath, calming his libido, as he shifted his hand from her back to her waist, wrapping around it and pulling her into him so he could hold her more firmly. Shit, he could feel her tight stomach muscles on his fingertips. Well, if she could hit the way she did, then she most certainly did work out. He cleared his throat again.

  “You know there is one more reason you’re here, Mary Madeline. Tell me.”

  Chapter 7

  What? Besides fighting and the drunk tank? She’d finally caught her breath and calmed down but now she was nervous again. Oh, wait… was this about the Honor Council thing? It was hard to think in this position.

  She jerked her head around over her shoulder as his hand took hold of the waistband of her underwear and slid them down. All the way down. Oh shit, if she’d been humiliated before, now she was simply mortified. She couldn’t move. He turned and looked into her eyes. Then she saw him raise his hand so she instinctively turned her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

  The sound of skin on skin was jolting and they both sat still for a minute. She kept her eyes closed in total mortification. He kept his eyes on the pink handprints all over what he now knew was a perfect little ass. He brought his hand down again and broke the silence.

  “Tell me, Mary Madeline,” he urged, slapping his hand down again.

  She bit her lip so she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a defeated cry. She certainly couldn’t answer him and give away that tears were forming in her eyes. She had too much pride that she simply couldn’t let go.

  “Tell me why your naughty little pink bottom is in the air for everyone to see,” he said, spanking her a couple of more times.

  Oh shit. The pride was out the window at this point. She’d reached full on humiliation. She released her lip and opened her eyes. “I lied to the Honor Council,” she cried, her voice cracking.

  Smack!

  “Why didn’t you tell the truth?”

  “None of them knew it wasn’t the truth.”

  Smack!

  “I knew. You knew. Do you realize that if they ever find out, you will be expelled instantly with no hearing?” he asked, as her ass turned darker shades of pink. He didn’t want to push her much further. He wasn’t sure he could go much further, either. He sighed as he waited.

  “I… yes, but… it’s just better if they don’t know…” she whined, finding resolve as she steadied her voice and knew she was being honest.

  His hand rested on her ass again as he stared down at her strawberry blonde ponytail, lopsided and adorable.

  “Better if they didn’t know what?” he quietly asked.

  She swallowed and took a breath, replying in a whisper, “Why I really got into Eastland.”

  “Why did you really get into Eastland?” he asked firmly, hoping she wouldn’t answer with the self-deprecating response he just knew she was about to give.

  “Because of my book…”

  He quickly spanked her ten more times and she kicked her legs and cried out this time. He stopped and released her waist, placing his hand on her almost red ass and rubbing his thumb gently across the warm skin.

  “Don’t ever let me hear you say anything like that again, do you understand me?” he asked loudly.

  “B-but,” she began, as her ass seared with pain.

  “Everyone at this school has some reason that they should get in. Daddy put up a big endowment. Mommy’s a legacy. Uncle Joe is the Vice President. But no one, Mary Madeline, gets in without hard earned grades and exceptional recommendations. Especially the graduate programs. Do you hear me?”

  “I just—”

  “Mary Madeline,” he scolded, grabbing her thigh and pulling her tighter towards him so that he could spank her again.

  She gasped and nodded her head quickly. “Yes sir! I understand!” she squealed, clenching her eyes shut and waiting. He simply continued rubbing his thumb over her. She swallowed and relaxed a little, though she wished he would let her stand up and find her underwear. Her breath hitched as the hand squeezing her bare thigh suddenly slid upward, very slowly. What in the hell was he doing?

  He noticed her suddenly still as he rubbed her leg, but he couldn’t help himself. Her ass was so hot. She was so hot. And he could see from that angle, much to his pleasure, that she’d been enjoying herself as much as he had.

  “Dr. Frasier!” she choked, jerking her head up and lifting off of the bed. She felt his hand push down on her back as his other slid right between her legs. She closed her eyes briefly and tried to focus. What did he think he was doing?

  “You’re so wet, Mary Madeline,” he softly said, rubbing her very slowly.

  “Oh my God!” she objected, though it only came out in a sort of choked whisper. She couldn’t believe her professor had the balls to spank her and then rub his fingers somewhere she - let’s face it - hadn’t been rubbed in a long time.

  “You liked your spanking,” he grinned, suddenly pushing a finger inside of her, rubbing her at the same time. She’d liked it. That was the hottest thing of all.

  “What?” she huffed, closing her eyes in enjoyment but forcing them open again. “N-no I didn’t! Let me go!”

  He held her slender waist very lightly and began moving his fingers a little faster, watching her and her pink ass squirming underneath his touch.

  “Your mind may be telling you that you shouldn’t enjoy it but your body is telling me the truth,” he said, watching as her hands grabbed into
the comforter in two tight fists. He pushed his middle finger in and out as his index finger circled around her clitoris. He felt her suddenly clench around him.

  “Oh my God,” her muffled voice moaned into the comforter, more like an affirmation than an objection.

  “Good girl,” he coaxed her, wanting to give her pleasure now more than anything. It was suddenly the most important thing in the world. “I want you to come for me.”

  He bit his lip as she clenched even tighter around his finger, grinding her hips into him, pushing that perfect pink ass up into the air. She threw her head back and cried out, but he didn’t stop moving his fingers until she collapsed onto his lap in total submission, the sound of her panting echoing around the large, quiet room. Pulling out slowly, he began rubbing her ass again as he pulled the skirt of her dress back down. He wanted nothing more than to push her onto the bed and fuck her senseless, but he knew she was confused and would be reluctant and perhaps even mad at him if he tried to do that.

  Shit, he was willing to forgo his own pleasure just to watch her explode into an orgasm he’d given her. God, was he losing his touch, getting soft in his old age, or was she really just that special to him?

  She caught her breath and released the comforter from her fisted hands. What in the hell? What in the hell had that been? Good Lord, not only had he spanked her without anything covering her, but then he’d given her an orgasm… with his hand. She could barely remember the last time she’d had an orgasm, and she definitely knew no one had ever done it with his hand.

  Gasping again, she stumbled around as those hands gently held her shoulder and waist and brought her to her feet. Her hands immediately went to rub her ass, and she was sure the flush in her cheeks was from the embarrassment of the spanking and not the orgasm that had followed. She blinked and looked up into his dark eyes, not sure exactly what to say at a moment like this.

  He stood her up gently and stepped back, watching intently for a fist to come swinging at his head. When she just looked up at him with those inquisitive blue eyes, he took his chance to kiss her. He had to take the chance, even though he knew there was a high probability that she would reject him. And punch him.

  She was furious, and aroused… the two feelings were oddly similar. His hands were on her waist, one slowly skimming her dress up to her neck. His face leaned closer and his breath felt moist and warm on her lips. She reminded herself to breathe as he waited. Did she want this? Of course she did. Was he waiting for her permission? Now he wanted to be a gentleman?

  Hating that it was exactly what she wanted, but extremely turned on by his sneak attack between her legs, she lunged forward and closed the short distance between them, gripping his white shirt collar as her mouth found his.

  He’d wanted to give her time to recover, but he also wanted to see if she would kick him out or lean up into his kiss. When her lips touched his, he immediately wrapped his hand further around her waist, pulling her into him and meeting her tongue eagerly. He loved the way she kissed. He loved that he could turn her on.

  The phone vibrating in his breast pocket was the only thing that could have broken them apart besides a major natural disaster. He reluctantly looked down, releasing her waist but still stroking his fingers on the nape of her neck. He pressed his forehead against hers as he checked the caller ID.

  Well, Brad would be thrilled. The hot editor and her two naughty assistants were following up on their dinner the night before. Sighing, he closed his eyes as Mary’s hands fell off of his shoulders and she stepped back.

  “You… you should take that,” she mumbled, rubbing her fingertips across her lips and turning her head. She needed time to think. A lot had happened and all she needed was one second to sort everything out.

  “I’ll call back,” he softly said, running his hand over his jaw and looking at her antique white bedside table, the tan marble floor peeking out of the half closed bathroom door, the sheer white curtains hanging stiffly over the large window… anywhere but at her. He didn’t want to push her too far or else she might push him away.

  “Um,” she began, breathlessly. What did she want to say? You’re hot. You make me hot. Now take off your clothes, damn it. “Can I… get you something to drink?”

  “No, I need to go,” he replied with resolve, tucking his phone back into his pocket and taking a breath. He had to get out of there or else he was afraid he’d force her to do something she might not really want yet. Emphasis on yet. He had a plan, though. Turning his eyes down to her, he straightened his shirt and cleared his throat. “I want you to behave, Mary Madeline. I know how important this program is to you and I don’t want to see you expelled.”

  Her mouth dropped open at the curt dismissal of everything that had just transpired in her bedroom and his sudden commanding tone. She tried to say something but he took her chin between his fingers and leaned down.

  “And if I ever hear you even hint at the preposterous idea that Eastland only accepted you because you’re published, so help me I will drag you into my office, the nearest empty classroom, or even a broom closet and spank you so hard that you’ll be standing in the back of my classroom for a week, not sitting. Understand?”

  Some kind of affirmation managed to squeak out of her confused face so he nodded once and turned for the stairs. When she looked up at him like that he was finding it harder and harder to resist her. Quickly shuffling down the stairs, he yanked the door open, welcoming the cool rain on his face and shoulders, and jumped into his car. He pulled out into the street without checking over his shoulder and sighed heavily as he sped away. He wished he knew what it was about her that got him so riled up. His erection ached, which had become the norm since she’d popped into his life.

  Even at dinner the night before in the candle lit restaurant with Christina Miles, the hottest editor in the business, rubbing his arm and assuring him that he would get a two book deal, and her naughty assistants in their low cut shirts hanging all over Brad… the only image that popped into his head was of Mary Madeline Tucker, gazing up at him sweetly, curiously, begging to be kissed.

  Shit, Christina Miles. He had to return her call.

  Mary gaped at the door to her bedroom. He couldn’t have raced any faster out of her house if he’d been running the 100-meter dash. She frowned as she turned and looked back at the wrinkled comforter at the foot of her bed, then ran her fingers over her mouth. Yep, it had really happened. She took a step and winced, bringing her hand to her throbbing ass and spying her black underwear on the floor. Oh yeah, it had all happened.

  She sank into her hot, deep tub and nearly cried out as she leaned back. God, why had he spanked her? She wasn’t to blame for anything that had happened the night before. How had he known she was in a holding cell at that particular police station?

  Ugh, why had her traitorous body been so incredibly turned on by the whole situation? Taking a sip of cool white wine from her glass, she stared at the ceiling and wondered how a man that strong and that hell bent on disciplining her could have such a soft, sweet kiss. Why didn’t she punch him again? She should have just punched him and kicked him out… then she wouldn’t be feeling the way she did about him running out on her without a goodbye.

  Hey, Mary Madeline. Are u up yet?

  She scrambled for her phone as it beeped, a twinge of disappointment when she realized it was Will, but thankful for the diversion, nonetheless. She’d spent three hours that next morning on her Early Roman Expansion paper, lying on her stomach on her couch since she couldn’t sit very comfortably.

  Yeah, just lying around. R u ok?

  Sure, u can barely see the bruise. Hey, u know Dr. Britta and Francie from historiography?

  Historiography. Her mind leapt to Dr. Frasier’s dark eyes, peering down at her, his hair curling over his ears, the way he said her name…

  Sure I do.

  Well, they play touch football with us and we were all wondering if you wanted to join?

  Football? In this w
eather? She walked to the large window in her living room and glanced up at the clouds rumbling through the sky. It had stopped raining but was still a pretty dreary Sunday. She didn’t really want to get all wet and muddy on top of the possibility of having to see Nathaniel Worthington and… what the hell was Dr. Frasier’s first name? He’d seen her ass and had made her come with a finger inside her. How could she possibly have not asked for his name?

  Hey, Tucker, u still there?

  She grinned as she looked at the text. That’s what her friends in college had called her. She suddenly longed for them and for the simple days of going to undergrad classes in a mass of 400 other students and drinking in excess five nights a week just for fun. She stared at her phone.

  Ok, but I’m shit on defense.

  Can u catch as well as u throw?

  Surprisingly yes. I think.

  Then meet us at the field in an hour!

  Ok

  Surely Will wouldn’t have invited her if Nathaniel was going to show up. She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her small light pink Northface that would protect her from the rain if it started up again. She’d worn her old Gap jeans and old gray New Balances because of the mud and had tied her hair back in pigtails to better hold the wisps that always seemed to fall into her eyes. She shuffled down the empty sidewalk and approached the field slowly, not knowing why her stomach was flipping around.

  Will waved her over as Dr. Britta and a couple of kids from her classes did the same. She waved back and took a few steps before turning her eyes to a group on the side of the field, the library towering behind them. Dr. Frasier was staring at her, mouth open, pausing in what looked like mid-sentence with a group of undergrads and a couple of grad students hanging on his every word. Her cheeks flushed as she turned her head down and continued on to Will’s group.