Disciplining Young Ladies

Clorette quickly covered her face with her hands, knowing what everyone now could see. Even that exasperating Billy Thompson was now seeing her naked bottom! He was always teasing her, annoying her, making all sorts of dirty adolescent jokes. One time he even had the gall to pinch her bottom. She gave him a very hard glare for that and told him that if he ever did that again she would tell on him for sure. He just laughed, but he didn't try that again. However, here he was now, sitting front and center of the class, being provided the best view possible of her now shamefully displayed naked fanny, even sticking it out toward him, as if she was inviting him to pinch it. Yes, the New School certainly did keep the component of humiliation.

All of the boys leaned forward, and in the comfort, the safety, the security, of the darkened room, more than a few of them now had their hands in their laps. Clorette had such a very cute behind: so round, so perky, so white, so sweet.

Unfortunately, for the boys, Mr. Peters tucked her panties just under her behind, hiding the even more tasty cunnie pouch.

Clorette could feel Mr. Peters tucking her panties in beneath her bottom. She was grateful for that. Exposing one's fanny was bad enough. It was so demeaning and infantile. But, imagine if the boys in the class could see her girlish part! She blushed just thinking about it.

Mr. Peters observed, "Clorette does certainly have a very pretty, a very appealing behind. She is a young lady of eighteen years, but her bottom is so cutely perky and petite." To emphasize his point he delicately patted her fanny. Clorette squirmed a bit at his touch. The boys squirmed a bit at the sight of his touch.

A young lady's behind did feel so good to pat, to touch, to caress, and Mr. Peters allowed himself a brief moment to gently feel Clorette's soft, tender bum buns. They were so preciously teeny. He could almost squeeze her entire derriere with just one hand.

Miss Pepperidge squirmed a bit as well at the sight of the young lady's bottom being so openly fondled by the professor. She wasn't entirely sure, however, whether she felt uncomfortable or strangely aroused.

Mr. Stratton though was not the least bit conflicted over his feelings. He could feel the push of his hard cock against his slacks and the throbbing from the excitement of seeing Clorette's pretty perky naked derriere. He so wished that he could reach down and give himself a squeeze but he sincerely doubted that he could do so outside the sight of Miss Pepperidge. How unfortunate that she was standing to his left! Perhaps he could shift around her, pretending that he was just trying to get a better view? He was at least grateful for the darkness of the room, as he knew that he was displaying a notable bulge.

Sandy McDonald was sitting right next to Mr. Stratton. There was little light at the back of the room but she could clearly see the bulge out of the corner of her eyes. It was a little disconcerting, to say the least. It wasn't too often that a visiting dignitary was in your class, and even less often that he was displaying a hard-on in his slacks, just inches from your eyes.

She knew that she should probably be taking notes. Some of this might be on the test. But, how could Mr. Peters expect her to take notes when it was so dark? Most importantly, the sight of Mr. Stratton's stiffy was plenty more interesting to her than what Mr. Peters was saying.

"As you can see, I left Clorette's panties tucked just below her little round cheeks. I did this largely because I always find that a girl's derriere is all the prettier when it's so nicely framed, and what better trim than bunched-up white cotton panties."

If bottoms could blush, Clorette's certainly would.

"One could remove the panties entirely, but their presence, particularly their ineffective presence, provides such a nice concrete reminder of the young lady's state of undress. It would be enjoyable enough for the boys to see the girl's panties, but now," he said, as he ran a finger up and down her lovely bottom crack, "They in fact get to see both her panties and her bare bottom."

Clorette's bottom again twitched, much to the pleasure of the boys, particularly Billy, who had the front and center seat. He so much wanted to reach down and grip his cock, but he was so close to Mr. Peters that he couldn't take the chance.

"Now, there are, of course, alternative places for the panties."

Clorette uncovered her face and lifted her head, staring worriedly out in front of her. What other places? She didn't have to wait long to find out.

"My favorite position for the girl's panties is in fact down here," he explained, as he stepped behind her, momentarily obstructing the boys' view of her precious buttercup, and proceeded to pull Clorette's panties farther down. "I like them here," he said, "bunched up and around the knees." He stepped aside so that everyone could appreciate their new position.

"You'll have to spread your legs a bit, Clorette, to keep your undies in place. If they fall down, I will have to provide you with some extra spanking."

Clorette grimaced. She had been hoping that she could at least keep her thighs pressed tightly together, hoping that this might help to hide her most personal private part from view. It actually wouldn't, but she would at least feel that she was doing the best she could to protect her modesty, her dignity, her self-respect. Nevertheless, she certainly didn't want any "extra" spanking. She kind of hoped that she wouldn't get any spanking at all. Perhaps he would just have her demonstrate the position for a spanking. Perhaps if she was a good girl, he would spank someone else. She spread her legs apart, just a bit, just enough to feel her thighs holding onto, stretching out, her white, cotton panties. She at least felt good that she had worn fresh, clean panties that day.

"That's a good girl," Mr. Peters observed.

That made her feel better, at least a little bit. It was always nice to hear the compliments, the appreciation, of your instructor, but she still didn't feel particularly good about opening her thighs up for Billy, for the rest of the class and for whomever might someday see this videotape.

Billy was now rock hard. Presented before him, fully open to view, was the little hairy Clorette cunnie cup. It was not though in fact very hairy at all, and so one could see very well the white, virginal peach, poking out from between her soft lily white thighs and split down the middle by a very delicate, very feminine, slit. This slit in which he would so much want to drive his cock, where it would be met and gripped by a very hot, wet, tight, clenching cunt. He so much wanted to grab his cock.

"This position, of course," Mr. Peters explained, "is also very helpful in displaying the young lady's. . ." He leaned down a bit to Clorette. "What word would you prefer I use, Clorette?"

Clorette would prefer no word whatsoever, and she certainly didn't want to provide the word. Her own preferred word was though 'cunnie.' She liked that word because it seemed more feminine, more sweet, more pretty. 'Cunt' was too derogatory, too slutty. 'Vagina' was too clinical, too doctor-like. It was what your mother would call it. She always thought that the 'Vagina Monologues' should have been 'Cunnie Chronicles.' But, again, there was no way she would tell Mr. Peters this. Actually, she didn't really mind telling him, personally. After all, he was a mature and well respected professor. She just didn't want to say it out loud in front of the class. But, of course, how much modesty did she really have left? "Anything you want, Mr. Peters," she softly replied, but thinking, 'Please don't use the word cunt!'

"Well, I personally prefer the word, 'cunnie,'" Mr. Peters said, "and I believe this is most fitting for Clorette, as she does have one of the more innocently appealing little cunnies I have ever seen."

Clorette felt another wave of warmth course through her face. It was of course very nice to hear that he also liked the word 'cunnie.' For some reason, it made her feel closer to him that they thought of her, her most feminine part, in the same way. And, it was even better that he was so complimentary of its appearance. She had wondered at times whether a boy would consider her cunnie to be unappealing. Lots of girls she had seen in the shower had cunnies that were so much fuller, meatier, fleshier. There just didn't seem much to hers at all. Just a little slit down a white mound. She didn't even have much hair on it.

"And, I must say, isn't it nice that she has such a delicate peach fuzz." He reached down and gently traced his fingers up and down the length of her slit.

Clorette quickly, instinctively, clasped her thighs shut and her panties fell to her ankles. She groaned at her mistake, particularly as she had not gained anything from clasping her thighs together. With this pose her cunnie was still very well exposed, and now she had Mr. Peters' fingers clutched tightly within her thighs as they lightly rested against her personal feminine lips.

Fortunately, Mr. Peters did not appear to be upset. He politely withdrew his fingers and said, "Oopsy daisy, Clorette. You seem to have dropped your panties." A rather incongruous statement to be making in a class. "But, that's fine. I was about to pull them down the rest of the way anyway."

Clorette breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wouldn't be getting an extra spanking. Perhaps she wouldn't be getting any at all.

"You can see class, our guests, and," he added, turning his face for a moment directly into the camera, "those at home, there is also an appeal in having the panties gathered around the ankles. It is still rather constraining. Whether the panties are around the knees or the ankles, she can't really kick or escape. Let me demonstrate."

Smack!

"Mr. Peters!" Clorette exclaimed.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Mr. Peters, please, please. It stings!" Clorette protested, her face grimacing, her pretty bottom wriggling.

It really wasn't a terribly painful spanking. There was no use of a cane, switch, or ruler, and he actually wasn't smacking her too terribly hard. But, it was a shock, and it did certainly sting a bit. Clorette pranced and danced before the class, trying to flay out her feet, her legs, but Mr. Peters was right. She really couldn't do much with her panties wrapped around her ankles.

And, her little dance was all the more pleasurable, more enjoyable, for the boys, and for Mr. Stratton. It was like she was trying to entice them by flouncing, sashaying, and waving her naked tush, even giving them brief glimpses and erotic displays of her girlish cunnie.

Mr. Stratton hadn't realized how erotic it would be to watch a girl get a spanking. His cock yearned and strained to be released from his slacks, or at least to be squeezed and stroked.

The cocks of many of the boys were indeed being stroked and squeezed. They were resting their hands in their laps, as if that was how they normally sat during a class, but any watchful eye would quickly see fingers shifting and working on their erect penises.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

"Mr. Peters, please, please, I'll be good, I promise."

It was an instinctual response. She actually hadn't been bad at all, but she did hope that promising to be good would end the spanking.

However, Mr. Peters continued to spank her.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

After awhile, she stopped her struggling and just gritted her teeth to accept the discipline.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

That was enough. Mr. Peters wasn't actually attempting to discipline Clorette. After all, she hadn't actually deserved to be spanked. This was really just a demonstration and so there was no real need to belabor the spanking. He did though want to get a good rosy glow. A vivid visual spectacle was vital for the video tape, as well as for the guests.

"As you can see, gentlemen, and ladies, Clorette's derriere now has a very lively red luster. This is what one calls a real apple bottom."

Clorette was wiggling her Golden Delicious around, trying to get the sting out. It didn't really hurt all that bad. Mr. Peters had been considerate about that. It was more like an inescapable tingling, like all the nerves of her bottom were sparkling and twinkling stars, dancing around her bottom as her cheeks danced for the class.

"By the way Clorette is wiggling her bottom, it's almost like she wants us to take a bite of her apple."

Clorette stopped moving it around. Of course, she hadn't been doing that to try to entice her audience. Just the thought of that made her blush, realizing that it probably did look like she was trying to tempt and beguile the boys by waving her naked tush at them. 'This is so embarrassing,' she thought.

Mr. Peters continued his lecture. "It is, of course, always good to at times pause, at least for a bit, to admire one's handiwork. I do particularly like the bottom at this early stage."

'Early?' Clorette thought. That was not a good sign.

"The girl's bottom is now just ripening, coming alive, and the rosy glean makes it all the more pleasing to the eye. Here, let me show you. Clorette, if you would, get up on your tip toes."

"Yes sir," Clorette softly replied, and did as she was told.

"Having the girl on her tippy toes can be a nice variation on this position. By doing so she raises her bottom up even higher, of course. But, more importantly, the fact that she is doing so by getting up on her tip toes gives the impression that she is doing all that she can within her power, what little power she has, to let you know how much she wants to be spanked, how much she wants you to see her most intimate places."

Clorette knew very well that she was giving that appearance. It really did feel that way, whether she wanted it to or not, and she groaned with embarrassment.

"And, the presentation is indeed very delightful. The pinkness of her bottom now contrasts very well with the whiteness, where the hand did not spank." To accentuate his point he gently ran his fingers up and down the crack of her bottom. Clorette buried her face in her hands. He didn't actually stick his fingers down into her crack, but it still felt rather invasive and immodest, to say the least; to have a professor touch her there, in front of everyone, and, besides, it tickled, and she just couldn't help wiggling and twitching.

"And, of course, by being on tippy toes, Clorette is doing her very best to get us to notice the most sweetest, delicate crack of all." Mr. Peters' fingers went down past her bottom, all the way down, to her white, pure, innocent cunnie mound, that was now again so visibly evident, and this time so prominently so.

Clorette gave out a little puppy whine as she felt the professor's fingers lightly caressing her slit.

"I think she is even a little bit moist. My goodness. It doesn't usually happen this quickly."

Clorette turned her head back to the professor, a look of panic on her face. No way! How terribly, terribly embarrassing. She wanted to look for herself, but that would be rather awkward. Besides, she couldn't leave this position without permission. But, as she felt the professor's fingers going up and down her slit she could indeed feel a bit of moisture.

"My goodness, Clorette," Mr. Peters said, looking Clorette in the eye, a knowing smile on his face, "You kind of like spanking, don't you."

Clorette vigorously shook her head. "No, no, no sir!"

"This isn't something you've done with any of your little boyfriends?"

She said even more emphatically, her eyes beneath her spectacles wide open in shock, "Oh my gosh, no sir!"

"Well, you might want to consider it in the future. It seems like you may in fact have a natural talent for it." He removed his finger and held it up for her to see, to see the tell-tale glistening of feminine dew.

She saw it and quickly looked away. How so terribly, terribly humiliating! Why did he have to show it to the entire class?! Well, she knew full well why he did it. Humiliation was part of the discipline process. Thank goodness at least none of her closest friends were there, or her family. When she was spanked as a little girl her father would do it in front of the family, as the embarrassment was indeed part of the punishment. But, her father had never done anything like this before. And, then she realized, maybe her friends, even her father, would indeed see it someday, would see the video. What if it got on Youtube? Her face went deep red and her heart raced with that thought, although she quickly realized that Youtube doesn't show any nudity. She relaxed a little bit. Thank goodness for that. Although, of course, Youtube was hardly the only place the videotape could wind up.

Mr. Stratton had been taking notes on a clipboard, but he now brought the clipboard down to his side, thereby providing more cover from the eyes of Miss Pepperidge. He could in fact press the clipboard against his crotch to hide his erection completely from view. If he did that he might even be able to surreptitiously play with himself. But, he knew that having the clipboard pressed against him would be like raising a red flag, signaling that he was indeed hiding something. He therefore just kept it to his side. At least then Miss Pepperidge couldn't see it. He knew now that he really should have worn briefs, and made a note of that for future reference.

The fact that he wore boxers though was much appreciated by Sandy, whose own eyes were now fixed on the big round bulb pushing out the front of Mr. Stratton's slacks. It was actually kind of hard to ignore, even if she had wanted to. He was standing just inches from her desk. If he moved any closer it could poke her right in the side of her face.

She wondered what he would do if she touched it. Would he get angry? Would he jump back and yell? She certainly didn't want to get into any trouble. But, could you expect a girl to just ignore something like that? Could you really expect her to resist such an enticing temptation?

She absentmindedly, at least seemingly so, played with a pencil in her hand, turning it around and around, the elbow of her bent arm resting on the arm rest of desk. Her heart began to race as she twirled the pencil in her fingers, slowly but surely moving closer and closer to Mr. Stratton's bulge. When she was but an half inch away, she dropped her hand to shift the pencil into her left hand and then brought her right hand back up, this time leaning it farther away from her desk to let it touch precisely on the tip of Mr. Stratton's bulge. In fact, she more than just touched it, she grasped it firmly between her thumb and forefinger, all the time keeping her eyes fixed on Mr. Peters' class presentation.

Mr. Stratton's eyes widened in shock and fright at the feel of the girl's fingers grasping hold of the tip of his hard cock. His knee jerk reaction would have been to suddenly pull away, but he had the self-control, the discipline as a professor, to remain calm when a girl grasped hold of his cock. Well, not really calm, but he had enough presence of mind not to make a sudden movement that might draw quite a bit of attention to his erection. He instead moved back gently, just a bit, to let her let go, but the girl did not in fact let go.

He had no idea what to do. He briefly glanced down. Her thumb and index finger were clearly holding onto him. She wasn't just inadvertently touching him, although she wasn't giving any sign that she was actually doing this intentionally. Her face was turned away from him, from his pants, from his bulge, his cock. With the exception of her thumb and finger, her full attention appeared to be directed toward the front of the class.