School's in Session

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School's in Session Page 16

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  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.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered after a moment, wiping her eyes and stepping away.

  I pulled her back in to my embrace, kissing the top of her head lightly. "It's all right. You're forgiven, but please take me seriously this time, Michelle."

  "Well, if I'm not, my hot ass certainly is!" she giggled.

  "Language," I scolded sternly. "Remember?"

  She made a face at me and I reached around to give her a smack on the back of her skirt. With an exaggerated yelp, she began a game of chase around my tiny office, darting under my arms and making her way over my desk. I stalked toward her, growling in mock-anger. She giggled and darted around the other side, grinning triumphantly at me.

  I stood in place, contemplating my next move to capture the naughty minx when she picked up the wooden paddle. "Exactly what do you intend to do with that?" I asked her drily, arching a warning brow.

  "Oh, I think you already know," she tossed back saucily.

  I stayed perfectly still, watching her to see what she'd do next. She was looking back at me, perhaps waiting for the charge she thought would be coming. Well, I wouldn't give her that satisfaction. At last, seeming satisfied that I didn't intend to rush at her, she darted around the desk, ran behind me and managed to swing the paddle rather ineffectually at my butt.

  She seemed disappointed by my lack of reaction, but when she made to try again, I captured her wrist in an iron grip. "Naughty girl," I scolded, tsking at her. "You should know better."

  Despite having been caught, she was grinning from ear-to-ear, making me wonder if she'd wanted to be caught.

  "Do you need another spanking, Michelle? Perhaps I went too easy on you."

  She stuck her tongue out at me and tried to wrench out of my grasp, but I held her firmly. Next, I tugged her over to the chair behind my desk—as much as she dug her heels in, she couldn't hide her giggles—where I took a seat and easily hauled her over my lap.

  "I can see that I've been much too lenient," I murmured, stroking her hair for a moment before I flipped up her cute black skirt. "And while I'm thinking about it, this skirt is much too short for school."

  "Forgive me, I thought you would approve," she replied flippantly.

  "All right." I ran my hand over her pantied bottom. "You may wear it when you're in my office, but nowhere else." I waited for her to protest at having my hand on her bottom with only one thin layer of protection between the two of us, but she only wriggled on my lap and giggled. I brought my hand down with a loud clap that echoed through the room and made Shelly whimper.

  "That hurts," she complained.

  "Did you think I was going to give you love pats?" I retorted, smiling at her pout. I brought my hand down again, enjoying being able to feel the warmth of her radiating through her bikini underwear.

  "No, but I didn't think it would hurt more than the paddle!" she cried, kicking a foot in the air.

  "Settle down, honey, you're going to get what you have coming to you. In what universe did you think it would be acceptable to try to hit me?"

  "You hit me," she complained.

  "No, I spanked you. And that is something you will never, ever do to me, understand?" When she didn't answer, I delivered half a dozen quick, hard smacks to her bottom, alternating cheeks.

  "Okay!" she wailed.

  "I'm sorry, what was that?" I punctuated the question with another hard swat to each of her cheeks.

  "I said—"

  Wrong answer, I thought as I delivered the message to her behind.

  "Ow! I'm sorry! Yes, I understand, Sir!"

  "If you don't learn to watch that tone, you're going to find out firsthand what a bare bottom spanking feels like," I warned.

  She surprised me by craning her head back to look at me. She didn't answer, but the challenge in her eyes told me that she was daring me to follow through with my threat.

  "All right, have it your way," I said amicably before sliding her panties down to her thighs. I took a moment to survey the pink bottom over my lap before lying a hand over her cheeks and testing for heat. They were warm, but nowhere near as hot as they could be, if given cause. I was aware that she was still watching me, but I ignored her as I drank in my fill. Her ass was even more voluptuous than I'd imagined and I was sure she had to feel my hard cock pushing her thigh. I sighed reverently as I gave her cheeks one last, slow caress before I brought my hand cracking down.

  Shelly gasped and lurched over my lap. There was a fullness to the sound of the swat, soon echoed by another and then another. I didn't spank her hard, though I did keep the swats coming. I peppered her bottom with them, working my way from the top of her cheeks all the way down to her thighs and back again. It wasn't long before she began to writhe over my lap and utter gasping cries of protest, though she never once asked me to stop. I would have at the first hint that she wanted me to, yet I sensed that she wanted this spanking—maybe she even needed it.

  When she did start begging, her pleas of "Stop, please stop," were half-hearted at best and I ignored her, maintaining my steady pattern of spanks on her quickly reddening behind. After a few swats to her thighs, she began to writhe and buck, but I had no trouble keeping her just where I wanted her.

  "Had enough?"

  "Y-yes, Sir," she whimpered.

  "Are you going to try to hit me again? Ever?"

  "No, Sir."

  "I'm not convinced," I teased, giving her another mild swat on each cheek.

  "No, Sir! Please, I promise. I'll never try that again."

  "Well, since you've learned your lesson like a good girl…" I helped her sit up on my lap and held her there. "So, tell me, Michelle…"

  "Yes, Sir?" Her voice was deliciously submissive and sweet.

  "If I were to ask you out now, would you turn me down again?"

  "That's depends." I loved that she could sound so playful even with her hot pink ass resting on my thigh. "Are you going to spank me again if I do?"

  I leaned forward and kissed her nose. "
Only if you want me to."

  Chapter 5

  Michelle

  Though I tried my damnedest, I still arrived at school at seven-oh-three the next morning. I thought it was a vast improvement, but when I saw Josh's tall, broad frame leaning against my doorway I knew he wouldn't be pleased. Seriously, did the man have nothing better to do than to stalk me, making sure I followed every rule he set? I was beginning to wonder and would have said as much if I didn't think it would be bad for my bottom.

  "I thought this might be an issue, even after our…discussion yesterday evening."

  Bite me, I thought, while aloud I answered, "I'm sorry. I really did try."

  "I know you did, sweetie. I just think you need a little reminder to try harder."

  I unlocked the door and moved back for him to enter, but he swept his arm out gallantly. "Oh, why, thank you," I mumbled drily as I walked in, not at all surprised when Josh followed close behind.

  "How's your bottom feeling today, sweetie?"

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say something biting and witty like how do you think, but being that I was still quite sore, I thought better of it. Besides which, being called sweetie did wonders for mollifying me. "I'm managing, thank you."

  "I'm glad to hear it. Now, go bend over the counter for me."

  "Excuse me?"

  "I think you heard me."

  His eyes were glittering playfully at me, even though I knew he was quite serious. I scowled at him, caffeine-deprived and unhappy about it, but I did as he instructed.

  "I see you opted for pants today," he remarked with a grin in his voice.

  "At least you can't say they're too short," I retorted.

  "Watch the tone, Shelly." With that, his hands snaked around my waist, finding the button of my jeans and undoing it with ease. He made quick work of sliding them down until they bunched underneath my thighs.

  "Yes, Sir," I murmured obediently as his hands cupped my ass. It felt deliciously naughty and yet perfectly right. When he slid my panties down, I gasped in protest even as my body thrilled at the skin-to-skin contact. "What are you doing?"

  "Giving you that reminder I mentioned."

  "But I'm still sore," I complained.

  "Not sore enough, I see."

  When I felt the cool cream being smoothed over my cheeks, I gasped and tried to pull away, but Josh kept his hand pressed firmly against my back. "What is that?"

  "It's called Capsaicin."

  "What does it do?"

  He chuckled low in his throat and the sound made goose bumps prickle my skin. "Let's just say you'll be thinking of me for the rest of the day." With that, he pulled my panties up—I'd worn a pair of sexy red lace ones, in hopeful preparation for a moment like this. Although at the time I'd had more enjoyable activities in mind. Once my clothing was restored, he turned me to face him and leaned forward to brush his lips over mine. "Have a good day, Shelly."

  That slight contact put me at a loss for words, a fact that Josh seemed very well aware of as he gave me a wink and said, "I'll see you at lunch. I want you waiting here for me, standing in the corner."

  I tried to protest, but my heart wasn't in it, so I gave a little nod of my head and watched him stride from the room. As soon as he'd shut the door behind him, I gave into the urge to hug myself and jump up and down. It might have been childish, but right then I just didn't care. The fifteen-year-old girl who still resided somewhere deep down inside highly approved. And why wouldn't she? My boyfriend was a stud.

  The thought made me flush with both pleasure and uncertainty. Was he my boyfriend? I wasn't sure, and these days it felt like Josh held all the cards. It left me feeling helpless and vulnerable whenever we were apart. If it had been any other man, that alone would have been enough to have me break things off, but with Josh, things were different. He had a way of seeing that vulnerability lurking deep inside and bringing it to the surface. In a strange way, I felt like he was spanking it out of me, bit by bit.

  Though the cream did nothing for the first few moments, as it seeped into my skin I began to feel a slight sting of discomfort. I tried to ignore it and begin planning out my lesson for the day, but with each passing minute it became harder and harder to ignore. I glanced at the clock and realized that my students would be arriving in twenty minutes and given how I was feeling at the moment—the burning sensation that was moving over my bottom, spreading over each part of my delicate skin—I wasn't sure I'd be of much use to them.

  I set the lesson planner down and raced out of the door. I scurried down the hallway, not caring who saw as I burst into Josh's closed office. He looked up with a raised brow and a look that said can I help you? "What did you do to me?" I blurted out.

  He chuckled low in his throat before he answered. "Some people call it a silent spanking."

  "What people?" I demanded. "Torturing sadists?"

  "I'm not certain, I've never asked," he replied with an ease I envied. Josh was always completely in control. He stood up and walked my way, pushing the door shut before coming to stand behind me. "I only used a very little bit, not enough to last for long."

  "But why?" I murmured, my voice softer. It was amazing what a calming effect he had on me.

  "Oh, I'm conducting an experiment of sorts." He ran his fingers lightly through my hair, brushing the nape of my neck and making me shiver.

  "What kind of experiment?"

  "Simple. I wanted to see if creating a fire down here—" His hands dropped to cup my cheeks and give them a little squeeze, "would create a fire here."

  A groan of sexual frustration had been building from the moment he came into my classroom and when his hand snaked around my waist to brush against my sensitive pussy, I couldn't hold it in any longer.

  "Now, tell me, Ms. Johnson. Is it working?"

  I wanted nothing more than to lean into him, to slide my pants off and beg him to take me. I was half-way to doing just that when a thought struck me. I wondered how he'd feel if he felt as uncertain of my feelings for him as I did of his for me? I was almost gratified by the surprise I saw flicker in his eyes when I pulled away. "I really should get back to my classroom."

  As quickly as the doubt registered, it was gone, leaving me to wonder if I'd imagined it. "Of course. I'll see you at lunchtime."

  "We'll see," I replied over my shoulder as I let myself out. I was smiling in satisfaction as I made my way back to my classroom.

  The day passed by in a blur and although my bottom did sting a bit, as time went on it began to fade, just as Josh had promised. Still, I stayed distracted with thoughts of him, which I suspected was what he'd wanted all along.

  What are you doing? My mind screamed at me. What good would it do to be head-over-heels for a man who, with his panty-soaking good looks, a firm, unruffled manner and quick sense of humor would never be interested in a girl like me? I wasn't the kind of girl men like that would ever have feelings for—a lesson that I should have learned the first time around.

  Yet, every time the room was quiet for even a moment—how was it that it never happened except when I needed the noise to distract me?—my mind went back to him. I wondered where he was right now, what he was doing. Was he thinking about me? Was he counting down the minutes until lunchtime?

  But of course he wasn't. The idea was preposterous. When had he ever said anything that had made me think he cared about me? He was merely passing time until the right one came along, then I'd become nothing more than a teacher under his employ. I was surprised by the pain that burst under my breast at the thought. How had I ended up back here, love-struck like some silly girl who wasn't even old enough to drive? It was this town, this quaint little town where nothing ever changed. It was only natural that I would come here and have all those first crush feelings come rushing back.

  Snap out of it, I berated myself in frustration. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to. My mind kept straying back to the way that he'd held me on his lap last night, the way he cuddled me and mad
e me feel, even for a second, like all was right in the world. Damn him for having this power over me—damn me for giving it to him!

  Five before noon, Julia Cobb surprised me by popping into my classroom. "Hi," she greeted me enthusiastically. "Mr. Black said you needed me to watch your class during lunch."

  Of course he did, I thought wryly. It would never occur to him that maybe I didn't want to be a mindless drone that obeyed his every command. He would never think to ask me what I wanted—hadn't, in fact. As sure as I was that he was used to having women fall at his feet, I was equally positive that I wasn't going to be one of them. Starting now, I was doing what I wanted to do, no matter what Professor Black had to say about it.

  But don't you want to obey him? a traitorous voice piped up. I instantly banished the thought and returned Julia's smile. "Actually, I was able to work everything out. I'll be able to eat with my class."

  Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "Are you sure? He seemed pretty sure that you needed someone to cover for you."

  "I'm sure. But thank you, I appreciate you being willing to do that for me."

  "Oh, anytime. See you in the cafeteria."

  I gave her a quick nod before instructing my kids to line up at the door. "Harley is the line leader today. And remember, we don't run, we…"

  "Walk!" fourteen young voices chorused.

  I beamed at them. "Very good. All right, who's ready for some lunch?" I had to admit, I was pretty pleased with myself as I walked to the cafeteria. I tried to picture the expression on Josh's face when he showed up and I was nowhere to be found. It made me giggle aloud. Thankfully, the din in the cafeteria meant that no one noticed. I was careful to hid my mirth behind my hand after that.

  I stayed pretty amused right up to the point that I saw him striding across the cafeteria toward me. At that moment, all the smugness I'd had dissipated into thin air, leaving nothing but a pit of anxiety in my stomach. Oh, he did not look happy. Not that anyone with an untrained eye would notice, but I'd had enough alone time with him to notice the signs: the downturned corners of his mouth, the seriousness in his dark brown eyes. I couldn't help but swallow hard, clenching and unclenching my fists in my lap as he approached. The only thing I didn't do was break eye contact. I wasn't ashamed of what I'd done; come what may, I'd made the right decision for me.

 

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