The Professor's Study

A bit of naughtiness rewarded

Photo copyright: The Author

I have been working on a lot of darkly erotic supernatural stories recently. This naughty spanking story is a bit of light relief from writing about horny demons.

The first section is free to read and then it has two endings. One is free and the other is for paid subscribers. Both are equally naughty.

We are sitting side by side on the sofa discussing her work and are in that delicious phase somewhere between mild flirting and physical contact; like two boxers circling each other in the ring, ducking and watching each other waiting for the other to strike the first blow. The only difference is that, at any moment, either of us could return to our corner and call the contest off.

Alice has read many of my stories, knows how my mind works. It is displayed all around me; the comfortable Victorian house, the polished dark wood desk and the bookcases that line the walls, recreate the lair of a dusty professor from the nineteen-fifties.

The only accent that draws the scene back to the modern world is the laptop sitting open on the desk. I have moved and sat behind my desk to look at its screen. And now, by that simple act, the dynamic has changed. I have become a figure of authority, the desk a symbol of that. She is still sitting on the sofa, physically lower: not quite the archetypal student, but still fifteen years younger than me. The elements of our unspoken shared fantasy are slotting into place, like the last pieces of a jigsaw.

“Are you going to practice what you preach?” She looks at me from under dark lashes. Slightly coy but confident enough to ask the question. I look across my study at her sitting primly, upright, knees together, on the sofa opposite. I raise an eyebrow; it is up to her to make the decision: I am waiting for her to pose the question.

She holds up the notes for her latest story. “Are you going to spank me if I don’t complete it on time?”

I let the question hang unanswered in the room, let the silence seep into her and the tension build.

“Have you ever been spanked before?”

“Not seriously.”

I look at her quizzically.

“Little bits of play with people who had no idea of what they were doing.”

“Stand up.”

She rises from the sofa and stands, feet together, hands by her sides. Her light green dress flows over her large breasts, around her wide hips and finishes just below her knee.

“Are you aware what you are committing to in asking that question?”

“Yes, Sir.” She replies without hesitation. “My submission will be total.”

“Turn around and stand in front of that chair.” I point to an upright dining chair in the corner of the room.

She complies, back straight, feet together, hands by her sides, her glossy, dark hair hangs straight down to the middle of her back.

“Lift your dress to your waist.”

She gathers up the material exposing full thighs and her wide behind clad in sensible white knickers.

“Bend over, hands on the arms of the chair.” The cheeks of her behind tighten as she leans forward.

“Knickers down.”

She slides one hand beneath the lacy top and pushes the panties down. Her behind quivers as if minor tremors are running through her.

“Good, you may go.”

She stands, pulling her underwear up and smoothing her dress she turns to look at me with a confused expression.

“Discipline is the gift of the dominant, as is the anticipation of that discipline. You have stated that you are willing to submit. That will be at a time and place of my choosing.”

“Yes, Sir,” She wriggles slightly.

“You will return on Wednesday.”

She turns to leave. She walks oddly, as if her legs have forgotten how to take neat steps. Maybe each step is sending tingles of arousal through her. In two days she should have hit boiling point, if she has not masturbated furiously in the meantime.

Now might be an opportune time to read the free ending Alice Through the Whiskey Glass