Chloe's Cupcakes

Author's note: this story is the sequel to Chloe's Private Lesson, which can be found on my author page.

*****

I'd be lying if I said that the rest of semester with Chloe went smoothly. Her academic performance remained excellent, but it was clear that there was tension between us, and not just of the sexual variety.

There was that too, of course. She didn't suddenly lose her sharp sense of style, her enchanting blue eyes or her incredible ass. And she didn't stop coming to my office hours.

But her visits became shorter and completely business-like. Neither one of us mentioned what had happened between us at my house, and I saw her boyfriend waiting for her in the hall outside my office more than once after our meetings.

Nevertheless, it was clear that she didn't regret our encounter. She still smiled at me with her eyes, even if her eye contact wasn't as prolonged as it had been before. She still brushed her hair behind her ear with the same irresistibly girlish flip of her hand that she'd always used.

When she approached my desk to turn in her final exam just before winter break she even winked at me.

"See you next year, professor," she whispered, before turning and leaving the room.

But the next semester came and went without us ever meeting again. She didn't take any of my classes, and, though the college was small, we somehow didn't end up bumping into each other again until one night in May, after final exams, at a bar on the edge of campus.

Because it was such a small town, there was nothing unusual about seeing students out and about. Still, I was pleasantly surprised to catch a glimpse of Chloe's blonde mane as she entered the bar with a group of other students.

I was with a group of colleagues, commiserating about the piles of final exams we had waiting for us on our desks.

"Hey, do you know Chloe?" asked my friend from the English department, "she was one of my best students in composition this semester."

"Yeah, I had her last semester. Sweet kid, and very smart."

For the next hour or so I stole several glances over at her group. I didn't see her boyfriend anywhere nearby. When she stood and headed for the restrooms, I decided to do the same.

"Hi professor, I'm surprised to see you here so late," she teased, flipping her hair boldly as she emerged to see me in the hallway.

"I could say the same thing about you," I countered, "don't you know that good girls should be in bed by 10 PM? What would your parents say. And your boyfriend?"

She blushed deeply. So she still had a little of the old shyness still in her.

"Ha ha," she laughed, "so what - are you going to punish me or something? Discipline me for not acting how you think I should?"

She looked up at me with her large blue eyes and pretended to pout.

"It's clear that's exactly what you need," I said, moving in close enough to breathe in her scent.

"I'm not so sure about that," she retorted, "who do you think you are, my dad? Are you going to ground me or something?"

Looking behind her, I saw my friend from the English department coming towards us.

"I've got to be going," I said, "but I'll be in town all summer if you want to continue this conversation."

I walked past her back out into the bar, where I rejoined my colleagues. About 15 minutes later, we left.

--

I had almost forgotten about our flirtation outside the restrooms when Chloe appeared on my doorstep one Saturday afternoon in June. It was a beautiful day, and I had spent the better part of the morning cutting grass. Now, with the sun high in the sky, I was in the kitchen slicing the first green tomatoes of the year for a sandwich.

In my rush to answer the door I kept the plate with me, but I almost dropped it when I saw her there, smiling angelically in a breathtaking pink sundress, holding a plate of pink frosted cupcakes while the sun illuminated her brilliant blonde hair. She was wearing bright red lipstick which added a slightly slutty touch to an otherwise innocent look.

"Hi, professor," she said, "I made some extras and thought you might like to try one."

"Uh-, um," now it was me stammering for words as my eyes devoured the beautiful petite young woman in front of me, "thanks, Chloe. Why don't you come in?"

"Ok, professor," she smiled, "are you sure your wife won't mind?"

"She happens to be gone for the weekend," I said, my heart pounding at the prospect of being alone again with the beautiful girl.

"Have a seat," I said, gesturing to a chair at the kitchen island.

She placed the plate of cupcakes on the island and carefully smoothed the dress out underneath her before sitting down. I couldn't help but steal a glimpse at her legs, the smooth, pale skin of which was exposed now.

"Professor," she said, her tone turning more serious now, "I came to talk about what happened last semester."

"Ok," I said, still standing, "what about it?"

"I just wanted to apologize that things ended so abruptly," she continued, her eyes focused on the counter now, "my boyfriend started asking a lot of questions about what was going on, and I -," she stopped.

"It's ok," I said.

"I couldn't tell him the truth," she said, "so I just had to avoid you. But we ended up breaking up anyway."

"I understand."

"But I'm with a new guy now, so I just came to tell you that I'm sorry, but that this will have to be the last time we see each other alone."

Now I wasn't sure what was going on. Had she been consciously teasing me before - in my office hours, in the hallway at the bar? Or was some part of her ambivalent? Was she waiting for me to make the next move?

"I hope you like the cupcakes," she said, and stood up from the stool, "I should get going now."

She turned and walked to the door. Just before she crossed the threshold, I put my hand on her shoulder.

"Hold on a minute, Chloe," I said, "do you really think you can get away with coming here and teasing me like this? We need to have a serious discussion."

She grabbed my hand and tried to move it from her shoulder, but gave up quickly and began to stroke it instead.

"Oh professor," she whispered, "I'm sorry. Goodbye."

I turned her to face me, my hand on her upper arm.

"Chloe," I said, looking deep into her watery eyes, "it's ok to admit it. To me and yourself."

I heard her breathing accelerate.

"Admit what?"

"That you came here for one reason, and one reason only."

"And that would be?" her voice wavered as she dropped her gaze.

"To fuck me. Or, to be more accurate, to be fucked *by* me," I whispered, my lips tickling the top ridge of her right ear.

"No," she stammered, trying half-heartedly to break my grasp, "I just wanted -."

She flushed a deep crimson.

"Shh," I said, brushing her hair over her ear and touching her lips for a moment, "just come back into the living room with me."

I took her hand and she followed me, wordlessly.

I sat on the couch in the livingroom. Sunlight shone through the sheer curtains, illuminating the room with the splendor of the summer afternoon.

I pulled Chloe down towards me. She tried to sit beside me, but I pulled the petite woman onto my lap.

"What are you -?"

"Shh," I said, placing a hand on her leg, stroking her inner thigh as I breathed in the scent of her hair, "I know underneath your new flirtatious, confident exterior, you're still the same innocent little girl you were a few months ago."

"I'm not some little girl," she protested, the color leaving her face for a moment and then returning again with a fury.

"Yes you are," I said, "and you need a man to guide you. Do you remember what I told you the time we slept together? When you were talking about being too sore to fuck your boyfriend?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

I was unconvinced.

"You know exactly what I said. Tell me what it was."

"You said," her face cycled its color scheme from pale white to deep red once more, "you said that I was your property."

"What part of you, specifically?"

"My pussy," she whispered, almost inaudibly. My cock was rock hard, now, pressing into the bottom of her thighs as she sat on my lap. She had to feel it.

"And did you respect my wishes? Did you keep your boyfriend - sorry, your *boyfriends* away from your pussy?"

"No," she mumbled. Her breathing was fast and shallow.

"Relax, Chloe," I said, stroking her back, "it's ok. But you know I'm going to punish you."

"Punish me?"

"That's right, honey," I said, stroking her hair, "you're going to have to show me that you can be a good girl again. That's what you want, isn't it?"

She nodded, still looking at the ground.

"Ok, Chloe," I said, "I want you to do something."

She looked up at me, meeting my eyes only for a moment before dropping her gaze once more.

"Go into the kitchen and bring me the wooden spatula you find in large ceramic jar next to the stove."

She looked at me again, this time with a frightened look in her eye.

"Did you hear me, Chloe?"

She nodded.

I watched as the beautiful young woman walked slowly into the kitchen, her incredible ass just covered by her sundress.

She returned with the spatula in her hand, walking slowly towards me with her eyes downcast.

"Here you go," she said.

"Very good, sweetheart," I said. She blushed again at my use of the pet name.

"Now I want you to take off your sandals."

She stooped and undid the sandal straps, then stepped delicately to the side, leaving them empty on the floor.

"Now your panties."

She looked at me.

"Now, Chloe."

There is something so wonderful about watching a woman remove her panties, I thought to myself as I watched Chloe reach up under her dress, trying to preserve as much modesty as possible despite the situation. Something so incredibly delicate and vulnerable, so feminine.

She stood before me, holding a small piece of white cotton in her hands.

"Put them on the couch next to me," I ordered.

She did as she was told.

"Now bend over my lap."

She walked forward, then lowered herself gracefully over my lap, her beautiful bottom exposed by the position she found herself in now.

My cock twitched involuntarily, poking her stomach.

I pulled up her dress even further, admiring her smooth skin and the satisfying curve of her bottom. There was not a tan line or a blemish to be seen on its pale surface.

"Beautiful," I said.

Chloe was trembling. Not just her hands, her entire body.

I gathered her wrists together and placed them at the small of her back.

"Leave them there," I ordered, "and try to relax."

Her trembling subsided for a moment. I would have been lying if I had said that her nervousness didn't arouse me even more. It fed my animal desire to dominate her.

"Now Chloe," I said, "since this is a punishment, it's important that you understand the reasons for it. It's not enough for me to simply spank you. You need to understand why. Is that clear?"

She nodded.

"Answer me in words, Chloe."

"Yes."

"Good girl."

"Here's what's going to happen," I continued, "after each spank, I want you to thank me."

"Yes, sir."

Her trembling returned again, but subsided as I stroked the small of her back.

"There's one other thing," I said, "I want you to call me 'daddy.'"

"What? But that's so -."

"So what?"

"So wrong," she stammered.

"It's what I want," I said, "is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yes who?"

"Yes," her voice fell to a whisper "...daddy."

"Good girl," I said, rubbing the spatula over her smooth bottom, "and now I'm going to punish you."

"Do you know why?"

"Yes," she murmured.

"Why?"

"Because I let my boyfriends fuck me."

"How many times did it happen?"

She started laughing, all of her embarrassment gone for the moment.

"You expect me to remember every time we did it?"

"Just estimate."

"Um...ok...," she giggled, "I'd say a conservative estimate would be around 50 times, if we assume twice a week."

"Ok, let's start there," I said, "I'll start by giving you 50 spanks."

"What?!?"

"You heard me. You've been a slut, and now I'm going to treat you like one."

"I'm a slut for fucking the guys I date?"

"You're a slut for fucking them without daddy's permission," I corrected.

She blushed.

"Yes, daddy," she murmured.

"Good girl," I said, "and now, get ready to count."

SMACK!

"What do you say, slut?"

"Thank you, daddy," she gasped, having lost her breath at the sharpness of the blow.

SMACK!

"Th- thank you, daddy."

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

I gave her three sharp ones, all on the same cheek, and smiled as a pink glow began to form in the shape of the spatula.

"By the way, Chloe," I said, "you haven't started counting yet. As soon as you do, we can start the punishment."

"What?!"

"That's right. You have to count aloud. I'm certainly not going to!"

"Ok, well that was five. I think."

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Now her other cheek began to glow softly.

"It's not like when you guessed about how many times you fucked your boyfriend," I teased, "you can't just guess. Start over from one. Now."

"Yes, daddy," she moaned, "one, daddy. Thank you."

"Good girl."

SMACK!

"Two. Thank you, daddy."

SMACK!

"Three. Thank you, daddy."

"Now you're getting it, slut. But you still need to learn your lesson."

SMACK!

"Four. Thank you, daddy."

By the time we reach 25, I could sense that Chloe was starting to reach her limit. She arched her back and tried to direct where my blows would land.

"Are you enjoying this, slut?"

"No, daddy," she moaned, "it hurts."

"That's the idea," I said.

SMACK!

"26. Thank you, daddy!"

At forty, she suppressed a small sob.

"It...hurts...," she moaned, "please stop now. I've learned my lesson."

"How many spanks did I say you were going to get?"

"Fifty, daddy," she stammered, "but you already spanked me and didn't count it."

"No arguments, young lady."

After the next ten spanks, every other one delivered on a different cheek, she tried to stand.

"Not so fast," I said, pinning her back to my lap, "what do you think you're doing?"

"I thought we were finished," she said, "I thought you said fifty spanks."

"That's right, honey," I said, trying to ignore the rate at which the precum was seeping from the head of my cock, "but I think you still need some time to think about what you did."

I took the panties from the couch beside me.

"That's why I'm going to have you stand in the corner with these panties in your mouth."

"What?" she craned her neck, trying to look back at me as she was still stretched over my lap.

"You heard right, sweetheart. You're going to stand in the corner with these panties in your mouth and think about what you did."

"How long?"

"That's up to me to decide."

I pulled her onto her feet and looked at her face. Her eyes were ringed in mascara, but her lipstick was still intact. She avoided eye contact once again, and blushed deeply as she sensed my gaze.

"Open your mouth, princess," I ordered.

She slowly complied. I pushed her panties (which were still damp) inside, and told her to keep them there. She nodded.

"Over here."

I guided her to a corner of the living room.

"Put your hands on your head. I don't want them anywhere close to your pussy."

"Mm-hmm," she said, raising her arms obediently and clasping her fingers together behind her head.

"Good girl," I said, reaching slowly between her thighs and letting my hand stroke her cunt ever so slightly.

I penetrated her slowly with a single digit, and her legs began to shake. I steadied her quickly with my other arm.

"Relax, Chloe. I just wanted to see how wet you are."

She let out a soft moan through the panty-gag.

It was all I could do to keep from taking out my cock and fucking her hard and fast right there, but I wanted to make sure she'd learned her lesson first, so I kept it in my pants.

"I'll be in kitchen for a while," I said, "but I'll check on you, too. Don't let me catch you move from that position, young lady."

She nodded.

"Good girl."

I went into the kitchen and saw the sandwich I'd abandoned. The spanking had made me hungry, but it seemed like a strange time to eat, with Chloe in the other room, and so I decided to do the dishes instead.

After loading the dishwasher, I turned and glanced around the corner, taking in the wonderful sight of Chloe standing there in her tiny sundress, her spanked bottom just barely visible, her slender legs bare and smooth, and her blonde hair bursting from her head where her two hands rested obediently.

But then she moved. I watched as she took her hands down for a moment, stretching them at her side and shaking them out. It was a completely understandable action, but also completely against the rules.

I walked immediately back into the living room and pulled the panties out of her mouth.

"What did you just do, slut?"

"Nothing," she said, tears welling up in her eyes, "I just had to rest my arms for a second."

"What did I tell you?"

"Not to move my arms," she conceded, her eyes downcast again.

"That's right."

"There are going to be consequences for this," I said, unfastening my belt and pulling it out of the loops.

"Keep your hands above your head," I ordered, "I'm going to spank you with my belt five times."

"What? Please no," Chloe begged, a look of terror in her eyes, "it's going to hurt so much."

"That's why I have to do it," I said, "I'm still not sure that you've learned whose property you are."

She simply closed her eyes and said nothing.

She was trembling as I rubbed the smooth leather against her tender backside.

"Chloe," I said, my mouth close to her ear, "I want you to count each spank again this time."

"Yes, sir. I mean daddy."

"Good job correcting yourself."

"But this time, I also want you to say 'my pussy belongs to you, daddy' each time. Is that clear?"

"Please no," she said, "it's so..."

"So what, Chloe?"

"So dirty."

She was beet red once again.

"That's why I want to hear you say it, honey."

I positioned my feet so I could swing the doubled belt to the best effect.

"Are you ready?"

"No!"

"Too bad."

I drew my arm back and then snapped my wrist forward sharply.

WHACK!

The first blow resounded through the house. Chloe began to whimper quietly.

"One. My -," her voice dropped to a hushed whisper, "pussy belongs to you, daddy."

"I couldn't quite hear that, so let's start over from the beginning," I said, rubbing the belt against her ass once again.

"What? No!"

WHACK!

The next blow made an angry red stripe in the girl's soft flesh, a ribbon of darker red on her already pink bottom.

"Two. I mean one!" she quickly corrected herself.

"That's a good girl. Now what do you say?"

"My pussy belongs to you, daddy."

"That's right."

WHACK!

This time, she was sobbing as tears began to run down her face. I knew that I was pushing her limits, but I also wanted to see what kind of punishment the young woman was able (and willing) to undergo.

"Two. My pussy belongs to you, daddy," she blubbered.

"Don't worry, honey, it'll be over soon," I whispered, drawing back the belt once more.

My cock was in serious need of attention now, and I could feel a wet patch of precum spreading across the front of my pants.

WHACK!

If anything, this next blow was even harder. Chloe jerked forward, tears spurting from her eyes.

"Please," she said, "no more."

"Chloe, I'm warning you."

She sobbed softly for a few more moments, then said "Three. My pussy belongs to you, daddy."

I had no mercy whatsoever with the next blow, but it seemed that Chloe had found some inner reserve of perseverance, and despite the severity of it, she did not cry out again.