Please Professor 2
1016 Words
Thwack!
The heavy wooden paddle landed right across both cheeks, and I shrieked so loud I’m sure they heard me down the hall. The sting exploded across my skin like fire. My whole body jerked forward against the desk, my breasts squishing into the cool wood through my blouse.
Crack! Smack!
“Forty-eight… forty-nine…” My voice came out broken and shaky. I couldn’t believe how wet I was getting. It hurt—God, it hurt so bad—but the pain was doing something terrible and wonderful inside me. My n*****s were rock hard now, scraping against the fabric every time I breathed. And between my legs… I could feel it. Warm trickles sliding down the inside of my thighs. I was dripping. Actually dripping onto the floor like some desperate animal.
I didn’t understand it. How could something so humiliating, so painful, make me this turned on? But it did. Every sharp smack sent a jolt straight to my c**t. My ass was on fire, and I loved it.
Behind me, Professor Markus was breathing hard. I didn’t need to look to know his c**k was straining against his trousers, thick and ready. He loved this just as much as I did. Maybe more. We both had this sick obsession with my ass—spanking it until it glowed, then taking it until I couldn’t think straight. It was like we fed off each other’s need.
He swung harder now. The paddle cracked down faster, heavier. My bottom felt swollen, hot, cherry red. I could picture it—bright and angry, marked with perfect ovals from the paddle’s edge. Every hit made me sway, made me push back just a little, even though it hurt worse when I did.
“Fifty… fifty-one!” I sobbed the numbers out, tears running down my cheeks. My voice sounded excited, almost eager. I hated how needy I sounded, but I couldn’t stop. I was so close. So close to coming just from the beating. My ass throbbed with every heartbeat, sore and tender and alive.
He didn’t stop at sixty. He kept going until I was a shaking, crying mess, ass high in the air, legs trembling. When he finally dropped the paddle, I heard his zipper. Then his rough hands grabbed my hips, fingers digging into the raw, burning flesh of my cheeks.
I howled at the fresh pain. He spread me open without warning and pushed in hard. No slow start. No mercy. Just one brutal thrust that buried him deep in my ass.
The stretch burned. My sore hole clamped down around him like it was trying to push him out and pull him in at the same time. Every slap of his hips against my punished bottom felt like another spanking—sharp, hot jolts that made me cry out louder. His balls smacked my dripping p***y with every stroke, teasing my c**t without ever touching it.
He wasn’t gentle. He never was when he took my ass. His fingers squeezed my red cheeks so hard I knew I’d have bruises tomorrow. He rutted into me like he owned me, grunting with every deep plunge. I writhed under him, half in pain, half in desperate pleasure. The inside of my ass felt stretched and cramping, gripping him tight. Every thrust rubbed against that secret spot that made stars burst behind my eyes.
The pain and the fullness twisted together inside me. Hot jolts of hurt wrapped around something dark and sweet, building and building until I couldn’t hold it back.
I came with a scream.
My whole body shook. My ass clenched hard around his c**k, spasming, milking him as wave after wave crashed through me. I humped back against him like a slut, rubbing my ravaged cheeks against his body, chasing every last bit of sensation. Tears streamed down my face. I didn’t care. It felt too good.
Professor Markus groaned low in his throat. My tight, rippling ass was too much for him. He slammed in one last time, burying himself to the hilt, and I felt the first hot spurt deep inside me. He came hard, flooding my sore hole with pulse after pulse. We howled together—raw, animal sounds—as my clenching bottom squeezed every drop out of him.
When it was over, he pulled out slowly. I felt the wet slide of his c*m leaking out, trickling down my thighs to mix with my own slick. My asshole throbbed, open and used.
“Get dressed,” he said, voice rough but calm again. “And fix your skirt. You’re dismissed.”
I pushed myself up on shaky arms. My legs barely held me. I tugged my panties back up—wincing as the fabric scraped my tender skin—then smoothed my skirt down. c*m was already soaking through, making a dark spot. I didn’t care.
I walked out of his office with careful, waddling steps. Every movement made my ass sting and clench, pushing more of his seed out. The secretary looked up from her desk and smirked when she saw the way I moved. She knew. She always knew. I ignored her and kept going, head high even though my face burned with shame.
I couldn’t sit down for the rest of the day. Every chair felt like torture. But honestly? That just made it better. The soreness kept reminding me what he’d done, how thoroughly he’d used me. My ass throbbed with every step, a constant, dirty little secret between my legs.
I wasn’t sure I could come back tomorrow. I was so sore already. Walking hurt. Sitting hurt. Even lying down would probably hurt.
But this was my last year. Time was running out.
And deep down, I already knew I’d be back. If my bottom was tender before he even started… God, it would feel even better when he spanked it raw again. The thought made me shiver, made fresh heat bloom low in my belly.
I smiled to myself as I limped down the hallway.
Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.
- Writer
