by Kim Acton
An important exam loomed at the end of the week and Heather used all of her new-found self-discipline to prepare. She felt confident she would achieve an excellent grade. However, she made one critical error. She set her alarm clock improperly and slept right through the early morning exam. When she awoke she was horrified to find the time for the exam had passed. She flew from her bed, dressed and ran to the office of the professor who conducted the exam. Dr. Kelly had a reputation as a classic, old school, hard ass who went by the book. She pleaded with him to allow her an opportunity to have a second chance at doing the exam. Not surprisingly, he refused. The failing grade on the exam ensured Heather would fail the course, there was no way to avoid it.
She spent the rest of the day in tears and made plans to finish her semester and drop out with the hope of perhaps returning to college in a year or two when her circumstances were different. That evening she received a text message from the Professor. It said;
I am aware of what happened today. Come see me at 9PM, sharp.
Heather's first reaction was to blow off the appointment. What was done was done and more discipline from the Professor was not going to change anything. However, after she considered that, she wondered why he would ask her to have a session if there was nothing he could do to help her. Once again, she found herself in a desperate situation where she saw nothing to lose by visiting the Professor to find out what he had to say.
She arrived at his condo early and waited in the hallway so she could knock on his door at the stroke of 9 PM. He answered the door dressed just the way he was on her first visit. He ushered her into the living room and had her sit on the sofa. Before he could begin Heather told him she was leaving school. "Professor, I didn't come here tonight for a session of discipline. I will be leaving school for awhile so my study habits have become moot, I'm afraid."
The Professor was not persuaded by her remarks. "Heather, I am aware of what happened today. Although the exam grades are not yet posted online, the list of students who were absent from the exam was posted. There was only one name and it was yours. Missing an exam is inexcusable."
"I know, Professor. It was incredibly stupid of me. I spoke to Dr. Kelly and he insisted that I cannot take the exam now and that has sealed my fate. I will have to drop out."
Again, the Professor was not persuaded. He gave Heather a steady look and slowly asked, "What if I could intervene and secure you the opportunity to take the exam? Would you be willing to be severely disciplined in exchange for that?"
Heather didn't know how to answer. She didn't even think about what 'severe discipline' would mean; she thought about the chance to take the exam. "How would you do that?" she asked.
"That is my concern. My question to you is, would you accept the extra discipline that you obviously need if I were to get you a second chance?" he asked.
"Yes! Yes, I would, Professor," came her quick answer.
The Professor removed his mobile phone from his pocket and dialed. Heather could only hear one side of the conversation, "Dr. Kelly, how are you? I'm calling about one of your students, Heather Chelsea. She missed an exam today and I'm wondering if you would allow her a second opportunity to take it." There was a long pause. "Yes, I understand. But she is under my tutelage and has agreed to a special session in order to make amends and to ensure it won't happen in the future. Yes. That is correct. Thank you very much Dr. Kelly, I assure you she will be there on Monday. Good night to you too." He slipped the phone back into his pocket and gave Heather a knowing smile. "Now, young lady, it's time for you to pay the price for your second chance."
Heather was torn between happiness that her future was suddenly much brighter, and the feeling in the pit of her stomach that she was now obligated to surrender herself to the severe discipline to which she agreed.
The Professor took his time telling her what was in store for her. But first he told her to remove all of her clothes and stand in front of him. When she did he deliberately looked her up and down slowly so she could feel his eyes on her. "You will not be receiving an over the knee spanking tonight. You also will not get the small paddle you experienced before. Those are not sufficient for what you have done."
Heather felt a chill run through her. Goosebumps formed and she felt her legs trembling. The Professor continued. "I'm going to take you into a different room. It's a room most students never need to see. It contains many devices and implements that are designed to make girls remember to wake up on time for exams. In your case, I will administer a leather strap to your ass. It's quite thick and menacing, actually. Sometimes I find it so heavy I have to rest my arm before completing a session. I won't lie to you, Heather; it's going to hurt more than you can imagine."
Tears filled Heather's eyes. Her knees began to visibly shake.
"In fact, you're going to receive it with wet buttocks. You see, a wet strapping is far more intense. And that's what you're getting tonight, Heather, a wet strapping with the leather." He stood up and directed her into a bedroom that contained no bed but several pieces of unusual furniture. There was a padded bench, a throne chair, something that reminded Heather of a sawhorse in her Dad's garage workshop and two large timbers formed into an X and leaned against the wall at a slight angle. The room was a dungeon and it hid many insidious features to which Heather was oblivious.
"You will be fastened to this cross, Heather. Your wrists and ankles will be secured and you will remain there for the duration of your discipline session. Now step up to the cross and place your arms and legs into position."
The cross formed a broad X and required her legs to be spread far apart. The Professor closed metal clamps around her slim ankles and wrists and locked her into a vulnerable and submissive position. The slight forward angle ensured the Professor a clear view of her small, shaved pussy. Fear tore through her mind and body as she realized how trapped she was. She thought about screaming. As if he could read her mind, the Professor said, "You are permitted to scream as loud as you like in here. If you examine the walls, floor and ceiling you can see they are covered in thick acoustic insulation. Sound does not escape this room so you may scream with abandon during the session."
She felt a lump in her throat so thick it made breathing difficult. The Professor removed a black strap from a hook on the wall and showed it to Heather. It was nearly three feet in length and hung with only a slight bend owing to its thickness and rigidity. "Other girls have nicknamed this strap, Lucifer," he said with a grin. They've learned that if they really screw up in a class they'll 'have Lucifer to pay,'" he said, with the only chuckle she ever heard from him.
"Brace yourself," he said. Without any other warning he laid the strap hard across both cheeks of her tender ass. It landed like an electric shock and Heather tried to scream as loud as she could but no sound came out. He administered a second stroke that pressed her forward into the timbers of the cross and send a shockwave through her body. Heather broke into immediate tears and wailed with abandon. "It hurts! It hurts!" was all she could think to yell.
"Of course it does. That is the point. You should be glad I gave you a couple of easy warm-ups before wetting you down." He removed a spray bottle from a shelf. It looked like the kind of bottle used to spray window cleaner, with a large trigger and an adjustable spray nozzle. "This is a harmless mixture of water and glycerin. The glycerine helps the moisture stick where it is placed." He sprayed it on her buttocks and deliberately let some overspray land on her pussy lips. That was to let her know her womanhood was fully exposed to his gaze for the duration of her ordeal. Such was the Professor's strong belief in the powerful role of humiliation when applying discipline and motivation to improve oneself.
With her pink ass now gleaming with wetness in the dim light of the dungeon the Professor informed Heather that her first round would be ten wet strokes of the strap. Without further delay he administered the first stroke.
Whack!
The sound was different when her cheeks were wet. The strap
slapped louder, almost with a splash. He paused to let it sink in. Heather felt the pain run up and down her body unlike anything before. By the time she fifth stroke landed she was screaming loudly and trying to catch her breath. When the tenth one was complete she began to sob.
The Professor reapplied the liquid and informed her she would receive ten more. On the fourth stroke she interrupted her crying and wailing just enough to yell the word, "Stop!"
The Professor stopped immediately. "We haven't finished," he informed her.
Through her tears Heather managed to say, "It hurts too much. I don't want any more."
"We can do that," said the Professor, calmly. "I'll release you immediately and you can get dressed and leave. However, I will call Dr. Kelly and inform him that you have changed your mind and that you will not be taking his exam on Monday. Is that what you would prefer? Just say so and I will release you right now."
Heather began to cry again. She fully realized her situation. If she quit now it would all be for nothing. If she took her full measure of discipline she would get her second chance. "OK," was all she said.
The Professor pressed his advantage, "You must ask me to please continue with your discipline," he informed her.
Heather tried to stifle her tears, "Professor, please continue with my discipline session. I want you to finish the session, please," she offered obediently.
"Very well. Now let's start over with these ten strokes." He applied more liquid to saturate her buttocks and resumed her whipping. He delivered the first three in fast succession and the intensity was unbearable to Heather. She grew faint and could only steal shallow breaths between strokes. Her ass burned with fire and her back and shoulders began to show perspiration. When the Professor stopped she was twisting her body against the restraints and whimpering. As she caught her breath she felt the sickening feeling of the Professor reapplying the liquid to her cheeks. She didn't protest. She began to sob uncontrollably.
As he applied the glycerin, the last two squirts were to her upper thighs on the back of her legs. It sent a shiver though her to realize her legs were going to be strapped. She knew it would hurt but she really had no idea how much. The Professor picked up the strap and informed her, "This will be the last of it. Pay attention to what Lucifer is trying to teach you," he said with grim amusement.
He delivered the strokes harder than the others. They turned her ass cheeks purple. The swelling flesh pulled her skin tight in every direction and every fiber of her ass screamed out in torment. The strapping was relentless and only paused long enough for her to realize her thighs were still untouched. No sooner did she realize that than the Professor laid the heavy strap hard across her left thigh. The pain was wildly excruciating and she gasped loudly as she sucked in a gulp of air. The right thigh felt the next lick and it was equally painful. One more vicious stroke was added to each leg and Heather sobbed so hard and loud she didn't even realize when her ankles and wrists were released from the restraints.
When she gained some composure she saw the Professor seated imperiously in the throne chair and smiling wickedly at Heather's condition. She knew this session was not free and now it was time for her to pay the bill. With her mouth.
"Come over here and unfasten my pants," he told her. Heather obeyed and undid his belt and lowered his pants and underwear to the floor. His cock was already fully hard. It was long and thick and bigger than any she'd personally seen. It had a slight downward curve that Heather would soon learn made it easier to take deeper into her throat. She slowly reached for it but the Professor stopped her. "Stand up straight," he said.
"I am rather particular about how I receive fellatio. I want your hand on my cock the entire time you are sucking. I want you to ensure the shaft is fully wet and lubricated with your saliva. When you are moving your head up and down I want your hand sliding and twisting in the same rhythm. I want to feel your mouth sucking hard and I want your tongue swirling around the shaft without stopping. I want you to collect your thoughts and concentrate on doing all of that. It will not be easy for you because you will be crying most of the time."
"Yes, Professor," she answered, but she wondered why he said she would be crying.
He told her to turn around so he could see her ass. He ran his fingertips along her puffy flesh and felt the heat radiating from it. The color was bright red on her thighs and blended into a deep purple where the majority of the lashes landed. Several welts were raised in parallel rows across her ass. "Lean forward and grasp your ankles tightly with your hands," he told her.
It might have been that the Professor had a bit of a sadistic streak or it might have been that his philosophy was that the person being disciplined should not enjoy any aspect of it, including paying for the session with a long blowjob. It was important to the Professor that Heather not enjoy any aspect of giving him head.
With Heather bent low and the skin on her legs and ass pulled very taut, he drew his fingernails hard along her tender, swollen ass leaving scratch marks from the top of her cheeks to the backs of her legs. Heather whimpered then broke into loud crying. "Get on your knees and begin," he told her.
When Heather bent her knees and leaned forward with her mouth open she felt the skin on her backside stretched to its limits. She began to sob from the pain. As she sucked and bobbed up and down on his thick, tumescent cock her tears fell onto his lap. "Very good," he informed her. "You are learning to follow instructions perfectly. As you suck force yourself to remember how this feels. This is the way it feels when you fail to perform your work as required. If you want to avoid this feeling in the future I suggest you focus on becoming an A-student."
As he spoke he began to thrust himself deeper into her mouth and to press her blonde head hard against his cock and balls. Heather dutifully sucked his cock deeply into her throat and kept her hand and tongue in constant motion as instructed. The experience was surreal to her. She was giving superb head while her ass was on fire with stinging and throbbing pain and she sputtered and cried. She felt the full shame of her academic failure and she never wanted to feel it again. She was still crying when he climaxed and sent his cum spewing down her throat. She sputtered and gagged and cum spilled out onto her face and chin. She licked his cock clean then stood up and awaited permission to get dressed.
"Excellent work, Heather. An A-plus effort. You may get dressed now." Heather retrieved her clothes and winced as the coarse fabric of her jeans scratched against her tender, hypersensitive skin. She left for home and went straight to bed. Her ass was painfully on fire and she did not masturbate for a full week after her session. She had learned the difference between the effects of a light discipline spanking and a severe punishment whipping.
I Brought a Friend
Heather passed her exam. In fact, she achieved a record score for her. It was a turning point in her grade point average and meant her finances would be secure for the immediate future. During the exam she also noticed the amused looks she got from Dr. Kelly each time she had to uncomfortably adjust her seated position. She clearly was given her second chance because Dr. Kelly was aware of the kind of tutoring the Professor used. Having someone know what was done to her ass added to her embarrassment. Then she wondered if Dr. Kelly was aware of how payment was made to the Professor. Oh, God! Did he know everything? Her embarrassment turned to humiliation. But after she left her exam she was surprised to realize that having Dr. Kelly know she was mercilessly strapped and had to suck a cock in payment made her wet with arousal. She didn't know why, but she felt that her sessions with the Professor were changing her in some way. She was generally happier and it wasn't just because her financial situation was less bleak.
Her friend, Jenna, noticed that Heather seemed happier and mentioned it to her one night while they were watching TV in Jenna's apartment. "So, last month you said you might have to drop out and now you seem like you aren't worried about it. Did you get some extra money, or what?" asked Jenna.
"Sort of, I was able
to bring my grades up quite a bit so some extra grant and scholarship money kicked in. Now my financial aid is going to be fine until at least the end of this semester and maybe the next one too," Heather replied.
"Oh, my god, that's great," said Jenna. "How did you improve so fast?"
"I got some tutoring in study habits. I basically know what I'm supposed to do but I'm a bit of a slacker sometimes and my tutor ... sort of ... um ... motivates me to do what I'm supposed to do," said Heather, trying to carefully choose her words.
Jenna was immediately interested and asked about what subjects her tutor helped with, how much it cost, where he was located and a lot of other information. Heather danced around the questions for as long as she could then decided she would share the truth with Jenna. She told her it was a special arrangement that was not like other tutors. She said it was more like motivational help than subject-related help. Jenna seemed rather confused and simply asked, "So, what does he do to help you?"
"Can you keep a secret?" Heather asked with a grin.
"Sure," replied Jenna.
"He spanks me," said Heather.
"Are you serious?" Jenna was shocked but Heather could tell she was also interested in hearing all the juicy details. Heather filled her in on how the arrangement worked, the ways she received her discipline and, after more questions, how she paid for his services.
As soon as Heather told Jenna that at the end of a session she was required to suck his cock, Jenna blurted, "I want in!" Then she asked, "Is he hot?"
"I think he is," replied Heather. "I mean, he's an older guy but he's really smart and he sure doesn't put up with any bullshit."
