Mr. Peters and the Panties

This story is classified within the section concerning reluctance and submission, including humiliation and spanking. If you don't like these types of stories you won't like this one and so you really, really shouldn't read it! Please do avoid this story if such topics are not to your liking or taste. All of the characters in this story are at least eighteen years old (one must be at least 18 to attend Templeton College). I hope you enjoy it!

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Mr. Peters' day began with the usual dull routine. It was sometimes so difficult to get up in the morning, knowing all that would face him throughout the day: so many students in need of guidance and discipline, so little time.

An educator's job never really ends. One class graduates as another one arrives. It did at times seem like an endless stream of young minds, and young bodies, needing his time, his consideration, his expert touch. But, as his mentor, Mr. Henry Desmond from Livingston College always reminded him, it was the life they, as educators, had chosen. They should not complain.

First on Mr. Peters' schedule today was Emily Brown. Emily had not been wearing regulation panties.

At Templeton, all of the girls had to wear white blouses with black ties, plaid skirts that had to reach below the knees, white socks, black shoes (Maryjanes were preferred), and, of course, white panties and brassieres. None of the girls were allowed to wear perfume, or excessive jewelry or substantial make-up. And certainly none of the young ladies could have tattoos! Just the thought of that was simply abhorrent to the Board of Trustees.

The administration felt that the uniform requirement was very helpful in instilling within the young ladies a sense of pride and discipline, as well as avoiding the presence of the licentious and distracting outfits that many college students were wearing these days. Goodness, at some colleges girls will show up wearing a chemise as if it was in fact a blouse! The parents of the Templeton girls appreciated not only the emphasis on proper, respectful dress and behavior, but also the considerable savings. It was remarkable how much money a young lady can spend on clothes.

The white panty regulation though was not well enforced. There were at times spot panty checks in the student center or at other well traveled locations. The Dean of Women would require a passing girl to briefly lift up her skirt (e.g., see "Just a little peek").

If a girl was caught without regulation panties she would be sent before the Student Disciplinary Board. The first offense was met with just a warning. Second offense was met with a grounding for a week (a punishment difficult to enforce for students who lived off campus). The third offense was met with having to write a paper on the importance of wearing regulation panties, and periodically visiting the Dean of Women to have the panties checked.

The President of Templeton, Dr. Chalmers, recognized that the college was probably not fulfilling its responsibility to provide sufficient enforcement of the white panty policy. All of the students at Templeton College were at least 18 years old but they still looked upon the faculty to provide guidance, discipline, and structure. If it became apparent that the college was lax when it came to some rules, others would be treated with comparable negligence and disrespect. It was a slippery slope that really should be avoided.

The college wanted to demonstrate that they were serious about the uniform regulation. President Chalmers informed Mr. Peters to give his own New School approach a trial run.

Mr. Peters would address Emily's panties in the morning, and his entire class in the afternoon.

As soon as Emily entered Mr. Peters' office she felt a heavy wave of anxiety sweep over her. Standing right next to Mr. Peters' desk was an old-fashioned pillory where one is held by one's wrists and neck between two large boards. Once trapped within a girl could not possibly escape and she would be subject to whatever Mr. Peters had in mind for her, which would be rather obvious by the pose in which she would be caught: her bottom sticking out behind her.

"Emily," Mr. Peters greeted the young lady as she timidly approached him, a look of apprehension evident in her eyes. "You know why you've been sent here."

"Yes, sir. I do," she demurely replied. She knew full well why she was there, and she wasn't happy about it. She was in fact rather embarrassed by it. "It's because of...well..." It was difficult for her to say, out loud, particularly to a male professor. She finally softly acknowledged, "My panties, Mr. Peters."

"Yes, precisely, Emily...Your panties." Mr. Peters didn't say anything further for a moment. He wanted that point to sink in.

The silence was awkward. Emily wondered if she was supposed to say something. But, what? What more is there to say? She clasped her hands behind her bottom, her eyes shifting to her feet. She nervously shuffled her left foot.

Mr. Peters finally continued. "I understand, Emily, that this was the fourth time you have been caught wearing non-regulation panties."

Emily's eyes nervously glanced around Mr. Peters' office as she admitted, "Yes sir, it is, or was."

"You've been grounded for a week. You've even written an essay on the importance of wearing regulation panties. Yet, you still don't seem to have learned your lesson."

Emily's eyes again fixed on her toes. "No sir, I guess not," she very quietly acknowledged.

"I'm not sure what can be done at this point to help you, young lady."

The three components of the New School method of pedagogical discipline are pain, embarrassment, and pleasure (see "Disciplining young ladies"), with the least emphasis on pain. Mr. Peters felt that in this instance he would emphasize in particular the component of embarrassment, perhaps excluding pain altogether.

Emily was pleased to hear that Mr. Peters was attempting to come up with a way to help her. She had assumed that she had been sent to him for some form of punishment. She again glanced at the pillory but just as quickly averted her eyes. She so hoped that it would be nothing like that!

"Do you have anything to say, Emily?"

She looked into the professor's eyes and said with as much sincerity as she could muster. "I am really ashamed, Mr. Peters. I'm embarrassed and ashamed." She didn't really feel that terribly ashamed, but she was most definitely embarrassed, at least by the fact that she was talking about her panties with a male professor.

"Are you really, Emily? Is that really true?"

"Oh yes sir, I am. Very much so sir, honestly."

"You know, I'm not so sure. I'm not so sure that you really understand the meaning of the word embarrassment, or shame."

"Oh, I do, sir, I really do. I feel very much ashamed right this moment, sir. Honest I do. I don't think I could feel any more ashamed than I do right now, sir."

That was a clear challenge, and opening. "Well, let's just see if that's really true."

"Excuse me, sir?"

Mr. Peters explained. "It's possible, Emily, that your current feelings of shame and embarrassment will be enough to motivate you to do better in the future. But, perhaps you need a bit more incentive. Don't you think?"

Emily had no idea what he meant. All she knew was that it didn't really sound so good. But, she wasn't in a position to disagree. "Yes sir, I guess so, sir."

"Excellent," Mr. Peters replied, taking her comment to be a clear and firm expression of agreement, which it perhaps wasn't. "Then let's get started."

Emily felt her pulse accelerate, her heart race. She glanced over at the pillory.

Mr. Peters noticed the direction of her eyes. He reassured her. "No, no, don't worry, Emily. I will not subject you to that."

Emily breathed a deep sigh of relief, her little titties momentarily rising within her white uniform blouse.

"No," Mr. Peters explained. "Your punishment will be more simple and straightforward."

"Yes sir," Emily quietly replied, feeling grateful for that.

"Now, if you would, raise up your skirt."

Emily looked at the professor with surprise. "Excuse me, sir?" She had heard of the unusual methods of Mr. Peters, but she had felt that much of it had just been rumors.

Mr. Peters looked Emily in the eye, his authority evident within his expression. "I think you heard me correctly, young lady. If I need to repeat myself then perhaps the pillory might in fact provide a more appropriate punishment?"

"Oh no sir, no, no. I don't think I need that."

"Well then," he replied, gesturing with his hand for the petite and pretty coed to raise her skirt. "Seriously, Emily," Mr. Peters added, "you must have realized that I would at least need to confirm that you are wearing regulation panties."

That was a good point, but she had never had a male professor inspect her panties before. She grimaced, her face turning red. She leaned forward a bit to take hold of the hem of her skirt. She couldn't believe she was actually doing this. She pulled up the skirt, past her knees, up her legs, all the way to the tops of her thighs.

Mr. Peters smiled at the sight of the young lady's soft, pale girlish thighs coming into view. He could see that Emily was no exhibitionist. Some girls were not the least bit reluctant to show a little thigh. Some were in fact quite proud and pleased with the opportunity. However, that was very clearly not the case with Emily, which boded well for the effectiveness of this New School lesson.

Emily avoided the professor's eyes, which she knew were staring at her exposed thighs. This just felt so wrong, so inappropriate, raising up her skirt like this in a male professor's office. It was like she was trying to tease him in some licentious way, which most certainly was not the case.

Mr. Peters nodded his approval, but it was time to extend the lesson. "A bit higher, Emily," he quietly instructed.

Emily held her breath and raised her skirt higher, realizing that she was now showing Mr. Peters her most personal, feminine place: the little white mound of her cunnie. It was still hidden beneath her panties, but she knew full well that it would be rather clearly outlined.

Mr. Peters smiled at the sight. There was nothing more delicious than the appearance of a soft white cunnie pouch peeking out from between girlish thighs. He felt he even detected a bit of a camel toe, but it was only barely discernible. "All the way up, Emily," Mr. Peters further instructed. "All the way past the top of your panties. I want to be able to see the waistband."

"Yes sir," Emily softly responded, feeling her face get even redder. She pulled her skirt all the way up, past the point of the waistband. Her entire panties were now completely exposed.

Mr. Peters admired the sight. Emily was wearing white cotton panties, consistent with college regulations. But, they were not entirely plain. There was a bit of lace along the trim, and a little violet bow at the very top center. This small bit of adornment though can be considered acceptable. It was a judgment call and Mr. Peters would let it slide. They were in fact really quite adorable, and of course it certainly helped that she had a petite girlish figure. Mr. Peters' penis naturally stirred within his own underwear.

"Now, Emily, really," the professor suggested, "Don't you think these panties are pretty enough? I mean, gracious, I think you look very cute in them."

Emily grimaced with embarrassment. It was always nice to hear a compliment, but not when it concerns one's underthings, at least not by an older male professor. Of course, Mr. Peters wasn't really that old. He was also rather good looking, but that made the exposure of her panties to him perhaps a bit more troubling, as if she was flirting with him in a rather openly naughty manner. But, she knew better than to simply ignore his compliment. That would be rude. "Thank you, sir," she quietly replied. She even gave him a little brief curtsy.

Emily felt a strong impulse to look down to see for herself how they looked. She did wonder. What girl wouldn't be curious? It was like she was showing off a new hairdo but avoided looking in a mirror to see for herself how it appeared. She was at least glad that she had worn one of her freshest, newest panties.

She decided not to look. It was difficult enough to let him look at them. Looking at them herself would make her exposure so much more real and vivid, seeing for herself what he was seeing.

Mr. Peters turned his attention back to a report on his desk, pretending to be working on it as the young lady continued to stand in front of him, skirt raised, panties exposed.

Emily wondered what she should do. Was she done? Was this all she would have to do? Was that her punishment, having to show him her panties? It had certainly been embarrassing but it was considerably less than what she had feared might happen. She asked hesitantly, "Should I lower my skirt now, sir?"

Mr. Peters returned his eyes to her. "No, no, if you would, just keep your skirt raised."

"Yes sir," she softly replied, finding this to be rather odd and disconcerting, just standing there in his office, like a decoration, and a rather embarrassing one at that, with her skirt raised, her panties exposed.

She was most definitely very pretty to view. She had a perky little nose, lots of freckles, large round green eyes, and naturally rosy cheeks. Her light brown hair was split in the center of her head and tightly wound into two long pigtails.

What if his secretary came in? Would she have to keep her skirt raised then? She glanced back at the door. She didn't lock it when she came in. Perhaps it locked automatically, but what office doors do that?

She returned her eyes to the professor, finding that easier to do now that he wasn't looking at her. It helped that he wasn't paying much attention to her. Of course, it wasn't terribly flattering to raise your skirt for a man and not have him be that interested. But, she would rather be ignored by him than ogled by him.

Mr. Peters looked up from his work, his eyes again resting on the sight of the girl's exposed panties.

She shifted her feet, turning a knee and thigh inward a bit, as if that would help hide her cunnie mound.

His eyes returned to his work, occasionally though glancing back at her.

Emily would look away whenever he looked up at her, her face typically flushing when eye contact was made. She felt like she was some sort of live pin-up girl for him.

Mr. Peters eventually said, "Are you beginning to appreciate what true shame is, Emily?"

She looked directly at Mr. Peters and nodded emphatically, her eyes wide with certainty.

"Yes, yes, indeed," Mr. Peters replied. "Why don't you turn around so that I can see what they look like from behind."

Emily did as he instructed, finding her change in position to also be a bit flustering, as if she was posing for him like some lingerie model, or perhaps even worse. But, at least she was no longer facing him. Showing him her bottom was not as difficult as showing him her cunnie.

Mr. Peters absentmindedly tapped his pen on the desk as he pondered the sight of the young lady's pantied bottom. He suggested, "Lean over a bit, Emily, so that they are pulled across your bottom more tightly, more snugly."

"Yes sir," Emily softly replied, leaning forward as she did so, her pigtails hanging down, wondering if she now looked rather lewd, thrusting her bottom back at the professor. Her pose certainly felt rather dirty.

"Yes, yes, that's much better," Mr. Peters observed. It was always a bit disappointing to have a skirt raised only to see loose fitting, disheveled panties. This, however, could be well corrected by having the girl stick her bottom out, so that the thin, soft cotton fit tighter to the round curves of the girl's derriere.

Mr. Peters really admired a young lady's perky little bottom. He couldn't explain why, but a petite, dainty derriere was so adorable, so fetching, and once Emily's came into view he could see that she did indeed have quite the charming posterior.

"Pull the panties up, Emily."

"What?" She didn't understand what he meant. Her panties were pulled up. She couldn't pull them up any higher.

Mr. Peters could see that the girl needed some instruction. "Bend over a bit more so that your skirt won't fall back down, and then pull your panties up real, real tight so that they wedge right in between the cheeks of your bottom."

Emily's eyes opened up wide with shock, her mouth gaping. He wanted her to do that? That was just simply indecent!

Emily was no prude. She didn't currently have a boyfriend but she had experience with guys. Still, she was no lewd slut who would pose in such a manner for a boyfriend. What decent girl would? And, Mr. Peters wanted her to do it for him? Right there in his office!?

She bent over farther, feeling her panties tighten further against her skin as she did so. She flipped her skirt up well onto her back so that it wouldn't fall back down. She looked back at Mr. Peters, sitting behind his desk, smiling. "Are you sure, sir?"

Mr. Peters nodded. "Oh yes, Emily, I'm quite sure. This is all for your own good, dear. Now reach back with both hands and pull up on the waistband so that they will fit nicely within your cheeks."

"Oh my goodness," Emily softly exclaimed as she turned her face away from Mr. Peters, her eyes fixed on the door to his office. What if someone came in right now, to see her bent over in front of Mr. Peters, her skirt tossed over her back, thrusting her bottom back at him. She reached back behind her and took hold of her panties to pull them up, wedging them into the crack of her butt.

Mr. Peters smiled. He liked it when girls pulled their panties up like that, converting modest panties into a thong, although for the girl it was a bit of an uncomfortable thong, as there was so much cotton now lodged in her crack.

Most importantly he could now admire the sight of the soft, curved, lily white cheeks of the young lady's derriere. He so much enjoyed how pure a young lady's bottom appeared. The sharp tan line accentuated the intimacy of its appearance, as it was evident that this part of her body was very private, never seeing the light of the sun, rarely seen by anyone, perhaps not even much by the girl herself. "Bend over a bit further, Emily. In fact, why don't you see if you can touch your toes."

"Yes sir," she softly replied, knowing that once she did so her cunnie mound would also come into full view. This was now a very, very obscene pose. It wasn't like she hadn't bent over like this for a guy before, but it had always had a very clear meaning and intention, one that she was not trying to suggest to Mr. Peters, yet the meaning, the implication, seemed very, very clear.

Mr. Peters' grin grew broader as the girl bent all the way over, her pigtails touching the floor, her cunnie pouch indeed coming into full view. With the panties pulled so tight he could discern more clearly a very nice camel toe, her panties hugging, squeezing so tightly the girl's feminine lips. "Yes, why don't you stay that way for awhile as I continue with these reports. Will that be alright with you, Emily?"

"Yes sir," Emily replied. It wasn't really, of course, but a good girl should accept her punishment.

"And wiggle that bottom a little bit for me, would you please, Emily? That would be helpful."

Emily's face turned beet red as she did so. She knew she must look so dirty and naughty as she wiggled her bottom back at the professor. She was now very much indeed learning about the meaning of embarrassment, of shame. Mr. Peters was a pretty darned good instructor. She would have to admit that.

Mr. Peters returned to his work, although looking up more frequently than before to have the girl give him another wiggle and wave, reaching down beneath the desk to give himself a squeeze as she did so. His dick felt so hard, so big, so yearning. But, he knew he could not, should not, give into the temptation. He had a job to do. His responsibility was this young lady's education, not the satisfaction of his lust, no matter how enticing, how tempting, she appeared to behave.