Discipline and Consequences

She paused outside the door to his office, hand on the doorknob. She knew there was no way to avoid what was about to happen, and she really wasn't sure she even wanted to avoid it, but that didn't keep the butterflies in her stomach from making her pause a few seconds. Finally, swallowing hard, she turned the knob.

"You're late," he said, with an even mix of disapproval and authority. She flinched, and stopped just inside the door.

He was seated behind his desk, leaning back, his hands folded beneath his tie and an idle expression of condescension on his face. She wasn't able to meet his gaze for long, and when he didn't say anything else immediately, she began fiddling with the hem of her skirt. Somehow her normally chaste school uniform never seemed to fit well in his presence. In his class, when she felt his gaze on her body, suddenly her skirt felt too short, and her blouse too snug on her chest. She cursed silently that he had this effect on her; this was exactly why she kept getting into trouble.

"Do you know why you're here?" he asked, with obvious forced patience.

"I... because..." she muttered, not really sure.

"Because you cannot seem to resist flirting in class," he interjected as he rose and came around his broad desk. He took her upper arm in his hand and pulled her forward, towards his desk. It was a light touch, barely holding her, but she jumped nonetheless when he touched her skin.

He guided her forward until she was standing before his desk and released her arm. Her mind raced, simultaneously trying to guess what he was going to do, and to think of something to say in response.

"Um, well I wasn't meaning to flirt, I promise!" she finally responded. He was standing behind her and it was making her nervous, but she knew if she turned around without permission it would only make things worse.

"Lies. It would be one thing if you were flirting with another student, one might say only natural. But flirting with your instructor is a serious breach of conduct, young lady," he mused, still behind her. "More disappointing yet, this is not the first time you've done this, is it?" It was clearly rhetorical and she held her tongue. "Yes, it seems our last meeting didn't quite have the desired effect."

She remembered that all too well. Two weeks ago he had called her into his office after class. After a stern lecture about the proper behavior expected of a young woman, he had beckoned her over behind his desk. Without thinking, she had obeyed, and before she knew what was happening she was lying across his lap with her skirt flipped up and her panties exposed.

His hand had fallen so suddenly she was only able to squeak in protest at first. She had never been spanked before, and the surprise of it was almost as stunning as the sting of his hand striking her bottom. Of course immediately she began to struggle and fight him, but he had only calmly caught her wrist and pulled up to trap it behind her back. That proved to keep her infuriatingly helpless. He continued to land swats on her backside, and it didn't take much of this to reduce her rebellious attitude to desperate gasps and pleas for him to stop. He did not for some time.

Finally, when he felt like she'd been sufficiently chastised, he had stopped spanking her, and given her another stern lecture while keeping her bent over his lap. This had turned out to be the worst part yet. She could barely follow his words, and just did her best to contritely nod and whisper "yes" when she thought he expected it, because her attention had been stolen elsewhere. After he had stopped spanking her, he had rested his hand on her bottom. His palm was on her cheek where her panties ended, but his fingers were casually curled down somewhat lower, coming to rest right on the sensitive mound between her legs.

At first he did nothing but rest his hand there, which had been bad enough. Then, as he continued sternly with this very personal lesson, his hand began to move. It was so slight at first that she thought she might be imagining it, but soon she could feel his fingers moving softly, almost as if he was doing it absentmindedly, right against her the lips of her pussy, through her panties. She didn't know what to do, and settled for trying to pretend it wasn't happening. He was still holding her wrist behind her, so there was little else she could do.

Before long the stroking was insistent, and her breath was coming as fast as it had been when he was spanking her. She could tell her panties were soaking wet now, and blushed, realizing he must know exactly how aroused she had become. Then something else drew her attention almost completely: she felt something pressing against her from his lap. It was his cock, she thought with a gasp! She bit her lip as she imagined what was hidden in her instructor's pants right now, quickly growing harder beneath her. She stopped thinking of anything besides his fingertips playing across her panties and the pressure of his erection beneath her. She was embarrassed, but undeniably horny.

Eventually, he had let her up, and she left his office quickly. The need between her legs didn't go away all afternoon, and that night she had lied awake in bed desperately rubbing herself and thinking of her instructor. She had always thought he was distractingly attractive; that was why she had thought it would be fun to flirt a little with him in class, but now it was a desire she could neither resist nor even understand. Despite how aroused she was, she couldn't get herself off; she imagined kissing him, undressing him, but it wasn't working. Then she had a more wicked thought.

Quietly, trying not to think about how late it was, she went to the closet and put her school uniform back on. She felt quite silly, but too excited to care as she went back to the bed. Rather than getting in, she knelt down on the floor and laid herself over the edge of the bed face-down. She thought back to this afternoon and reached back, lifting her skirt up exactly as he had done to her earlier. Finally, she brought one arm behind her and imagined him catching her wrist. Then the memory of the afternoon came back in a rush, and instantly she felt herself tighten inside.

She imagined herself back on his lap, feeling his insistent touch, and desperately she addressed the burning need between her legs. She thought of his cock against her and began to touch herself softly over her panties just like he had, but she could only take it for a minute before her fingers found their way under her panties and she suddenly climaxed. She moaned into the sheets trying to stay quiet as she writhed in ecstasy. Afterwards, as she drifted off to sleep, she basked in the inner glow of pleasure and tried not to dwell on exactly why she had done that, or why being disciplined and then molested by her instructor had made her so unbelievably aroused.

The next day in class, she had been unable to look him in the eyes during class, and fidgeted each time he walked by her. He had acted like nothing had happened, though, and soon she relaxed a bit. Still, the mild attraction she had had for him before he had spanked her was nothing compared to the almost instant flush of desire she felt now in his presence. And that had been why she had made the mistake of flirting with him again. And now she was back in his office.

"I said, young lady, what will it take to make you behave properly in my class?" he demanded, the undercurrent of anger growing in his voice. She cursed herself for drifting off while he was talking, for now she was in more trouble.

"I... Please, I didn't mean to be disrespectful, sir. It's just..." she stammered, "it's just that you, uh... when you... well..." she trailed off, not daring to try to explain how she felt.

"I think I've been far too lenient with you so far. Don't worry, miss, I won't make that mistake again," he said, and the false concern in his voice was unconvincing. "It seems you require something a bit more severe than last time."

Words failed her. Another spanking? She didn't think she could handle it. Oh god, what if he started touching her again. She started to sweat as her nervousness jumped to new heights.

"Now, please move up to the edge of my desk and lay yourself down" he continued. The tone of command in his voice brooked no objections. She moved forward instantly, but hesitated at the edge of the desk, finally mustering the courage to look back at him questioningly.

"Now, young lady!" he barked, and he stepped up behind her, effectively trapping her against the desk. She was about to sputter a question when she met his eye. His glare was startlingly intimidating. There was something there in his eyes that wasn't there last time. Anger? No. Desire? Eagerness, maybe? Whatever it was, it was thoroughly predatory, and she caught her breath, a little scared as well as nervous now.

Without another word, he put his hand against her back and firmly pressed her down. She had no choice but to do as he had instructed and laid herself down on his desk, catching herself with her hands. Then it took everything she had not to tremble. As she felt the weight of his hand continue to hold her down, she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how anxious she was. She steadied her breathing and told herself she could take anything he would dish out. Plus, their last meeting hadn't been all bad, and the way he was leaning over her was making her pulse quicken.

"That's better," he said patiently, "Now, the last time we did this, you had some difficulty in remaining still, so I think a precautionary measure is in order." She heard a clinking sound behind her, but he kept whatever he was holding just out of her sight.

"Place your hands behind you." He ordered casually. She reluctantly obeyed, focusing more on trying to hide her apprehension than considering what was about to happen. "Good," he offered as he took one of her wrists lightly.

She felt him doing something, but was distracted by how close he had moved behind her; his thigh were pressing up against hers. Then some material was wrapped around her wrist, and a bit too late she realized he was putting some kind of cuff on her wrist.

"What is that? Wait!" she breathed excitedly, and tugged a little against whatever he had put on her. When it didn't yield, she started to turn on the desk.

"Be still," he said sharply; it was not a request. "Your behavior last time showed me that this is necessary, and your attitude right now is proving me right." He already had her other wrist in a solid grip. "These are just simple restraints, they won't hurt you, they'll just keep you from struggling."

And that was it. Her other wrist was soon secured as well, and she tentatively tested her bonds. He was right, they didn't hurt. She couldn't quite see what he had put on her, but it was some sort of padded cuffs. They were snug, but comfortable enough. Her fingertips explored but found nothing helpful within reach.

"I also seem to remember you making quite a bit of noise at our last meeting," he continued. "So we'd best take care of that as well." She thought she could hear a distinct note of triumph in his voice now. The bastard was enjoying this! Then he bent over her, pressing more firmly against her backside as he did. Maybe she was enjoying it a little, too, she wasn't sure.

"I have just the thing to keep young ladies quiet," he said right behind her ear. He was so close, it was all she could do not to gasp aloud. Then he held something in front of her face. At first she didn't know what it was, then she recognized it.

Oh shit! She knew what that was! It was something she'd seen in a bad movie once. He was holding a gag! This wasn't happening. She turned her head away and squirmed under him, but as close as he was, and with her arms behind her back, she couldn't get away. Then he put his hand on the back of her neck. His grip was hard, and it seemed to take the fight out of her.

"Open..." he said softly, still very close to her. She pursed her lips tight as he moved the little ball to her mouth. "Open." He said again more firmly. She whined through her closed lips when she felt him press the gag against them. She tried to turn her head again but his grip on her neck prevented even that.

"Nhh uhh!" she murmured desperately through her teeth, "Please, no... mmph!" That was all the opportunity he needed, and he deftly pushed the ball into her mouth. He wasn't rough, but he gave her no room to struggle as he fastened the strap that held the gag in place behind her head.

"There we are." He cooed infuriatingly when he finished and stepped back. She tested the gag with her tongue, realizing that she couldn't budge it. She tossed her head and jerked in the cuffs. She tried to beg for him to let her go, but everything she said now came out as muffled whimpers and grunts. Embarrassed, she lowered her head and blushed, realizing the scene she was making for him. He was just watching her, now.

As she adjusted to her helpless state, she became frustratingly aware that she had become quite turned on. She had never felt this vulnerable before in her life, and she was forced to consider that it might be contributing to her humiliating arousal. She gave thanks for small graces that he had put her face down, so he couldn't see her hard nipples pushing through her blouse. At least she would be spared that indignity. Her relief was short-lived, however, when he returned to her side and began to lift her skirt up.

"Now, let's see what we can do about correcting your wayward manners." He said. She braced for what she knew was coming, but she still jumped and squealed when his hand landed across her panties. He swatter her a couple times more, then paused.

"I think this will be more effective," he mused, and she felt his fingertips slide to the waist of her panties.

What was he doing? Oh no! Not that! She cried out into the gag, and desperately squirmed as much as her situation would allow. Her mind raced as he delicately slid her panties off her waist and down over her ass, exposing her completely to his view. She couldn't see behind her, but she knew he must have a complete view of her, and it would be impossible not to notice her soaking crotch.

While she continued to protest unintelligibly, he resumed punishing her. Without her panties, it stung even more, and she yelped with each fall of his hand. Then he paused, and she could only catch her breath.

"Young miss, that is not appropriate behavior. You will be still. Now!"

She was confused, what was he talking about? Then she turned bright red as realized she had been grinding her hips quite lewdly. He wasn't even touching her, why couldn't she stop herself? With an effort she forced her body to be still. The gag turned a desperate sigh into a lusty moan. This was too much to bear.

"This is a serious problem, young lady. And don't think I didn't notice how wet you were the last time, either," He went on. She flinched when he touched her backside, but it wasn't a slap, just a light touch. She held her breath as the touch traced down her bottom, to her inner thigh, and then up to her slit. She did everything she could to stifle the needful whimper that nonetheless escaped from her as he slowly stroked up and down, his fingers barely teasing her.

"Yes, we're going to have to take care of this little problem before we continue. What shall we do?" Now he was tormenting her, and clearly enjoying it.

Once again he bent down to lean over her, and his crotch pressed flush with her naked privates. This time, she could feel a distinct hardness pressing against her. She gasped, realizing how much disciplining her was turning him on. Suddenly, she didn't care about hiding her arousal from him anymore. She pressed back against him, moaning suggestively. She was rewarded by a soft grunt on his part before he mastered himself and continued.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked, holding a pink shaft in front of her eyes. She did, one of her girlfriends had a dildo. Watching her expression, he chuckled, "I thought so." He held it suggestively in front of her for a moment longer, making it clear what was about to happen, and then he rose and started stroking her again between her legs.

This time it was the smooth head of the dildo moving against her lips, and she groaned in frustration, just wanting him to put it in. She pulled at her cuffs, but he patiently teased her for a while longer before almost tenderly inserting the pink shaft. She let out a carnal groan of satisfaction at the feeling of finally having something inside her, and he worked it in and out of her a few times with a cruel look on his face.

"There we are, good girl," he teased. She was beyond caring. "Now, let's continue."

With one hand he held the dildo inside of her, and with the other he resumed spanking her. Each time his hand fell, she couldn't help but clench around the dildo. It no longer hurt, the swats had become mere spikes in a wave of pleasure mounting inside her. The hand holding the pink shaft was also brushing against her clit as she jerked on the desktop, and she could feel her inevitable climax coming. A small voice in her head took stock of her situation, aghast that she was about to have an orgasm like this: cuffed, gagged, exposed, and cruelly fondled by her school teacher. Fortunately for her, that small voice was drowned out by the chorus of her urgent need.

He stopped spanking her when she came. He had to; she started bucking so wildly as the clenching pulses of pleasure ran through her that he had to hold her still until she calmed down. She was almost glad she was gagged because it stifled what would have otherwise have been screams on her part. When the powerful climax subsided, he had already taken the dildo out and the gag, too. She lay, still cuffed, exhausted and panting on his desk. He laid a hand on her hip almost reassuringly.

"Consider that your punishment, young lady," He whispered. "But there's one more lesson you need to learn before you leave my office," he continued softly.

"Please, I can't..." she breathed. She swallowed and looked back as she heard what could only be his belt-buckle working.

"Shhh, stay quiet or I'll have to put the gag back on you," he warned. "You are in my office today because of your suggestive behavior during my class. You've been punished, but I also intend to teach you exactly what the natural consequences of that kind of conduct are."

Her arousal was returning at a startling rate as she realized what he must mean. Still, she struggled to turn around on the desk and rise. He wouldn't go through with this, would he? Did she even want him to stop? She had fantasized about her young teacher before, she couldn't deny it. Never like this, though. But he wasn't giving her the choice, and he stopped her twisting efforts with a firm grip on the link between her cuffs.

She froze as his cock come against her. At first it was just a hot pressure along the outside of her. Then he maneuvered himself so his head was just pressing against her, parting her just slightly. She tensed in anticipation.

"Please..." she breathed, barely a desperate whisper.

"Please what?" he responded, almost just as breathily.

"Please... hurry," she moaned.

He finally entered her, but he didn't hurry, and she cursed him as he took his time. Her eyes widened and she breathed in shallow gasps as he made her feel every inch of his dick going in. He savored the tight spreading sensation as he moved deeper. Finally he came to rest with his cock filling her; his pelvis resting against her ass. She waited for him to start moving, not sure if she could stand it.

Instead of thrusting like she expected, he released her wrists and held her by her shoulders. Then he pulled her up so she was standing, pressed against the desk, still completely impaled by him from behind.