Detention

This story was written for the 750 Word Project 2024. Below this line are exactly 750 words:

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The cane whistled through the cool air. I cringed at the anticipation of the pending sting as the bamboo struck my bare ass. My loud gasp hid the soft moan that followed the bite.

To say the private university my parents shipped me off to was a bit draconian in their disciplinary measures was a modest understatement. I didn't see anything in the brochure about having my wrists bound to a desk and my naked ass spanked with a bamboo cane.

Miss, oh, I'm sorry, Ms. Ratched was a contradiction. Both dowdy and hot, she was the vice principal of the school. Her standard uniform included a long pencil skirt with a white blouse that was maybe one size too small to hide her ample breasts properly.

Makeup, minimalistic. Eyeliner, a little blush, and bright red lips. It was that she never smiled that put everything off.

She pulled her long blonde hair into a high, tight, braided ponytail. Someone had fucked her over hard to make her so bitter. What she was doing at a women's college administering discipline, I had no idea.

Damn, that stings, but in a weird sort of way, I liked it. I gasped again and used the opportunity to look are her stocking clad calves and the stiletto heels she's wearing. They had to be at least five-inch heels.

Yeah, I noticed the details, every one of them. I could even tell you what her shoes smelled like after she'd worn them for a day.

I also notice that my pussy was soaked. Clear liquid dripped from my lips, coating the floor.

This time, my moan was too loud and followed by a soft chuckle.

"Did you say something, Miss Withers?"

"No, ma'am." I shuddered as the next strike hit. Only fifteen more.

Shoes, yeah, her shoes. That is why I'm in the situation I'm in right now. I had planned it all so well, my little escapade into her office. Her schedule was as rigid as she was. I checked and double checked; triple checked even. At five o'clock on the dot, she slips off her heels, sets them next to her desk and puts on her ballet flats. Then, while I empty the trash in the offices, she hands me her trash can and leaves for the day.

Entrance into her space is strictly forbidden unless explicitly by her request; no wait, command is a better word.

I figured I could get away with it. "I was just replacing the trash can." That was a simple enough excuse if someone caught me coming or going. Forgivable, with perhaps a simple detention.

To be caught on my knees, my fingers in my slit, inhaling the savory musk of a full day of her feet in those shoes, though. How would I explain that?

Whatever I said when she came back for her keys wasn't it.

"Detention Miss Withers. Tomorrow. Room B-6." She grabbed her keys and just left me there. Yeah, I'd never lost interest so fast in my life.

There was detention, and then there was room B-6. Detention was what you'd expect. A bunch of girls that couldn't be quiet in class sitting around pretending to do schoolwork. B-6, though. We all called that 'the dungeon.' No one ever talked about what happened there, and now I knew why.

Another lash, another gasp, another moan. My legs trembled.

"Are you uncomfortable, Miss withers?" All I could do was nod. Suddenly, the binding on my wrists dragged me across the table until I lay prone on top of it.

"Better?" she whispered in my ear.

"Yes, thank you." Another fierce sting.

"I don't believe I gave you permission to talk." Followed by another. How many was that?

One more. Another and another. The moans became louder with each strike. One more. My entire body shuddered as I peaked. My pussy quivered as my juices spewed all over the floor.

She unbound me. I picked up my clothes to leave.

"Did I say you could leave, just yet, Miss Withers?" I froze in my tracks. Turning, I watched in awe as her skirt slowly ascended her long legs, past her knees, up her thighs. Damn, those weren't panty hose, they were stockings. Her garters teased me. Holy fuck, she wasn't wearing panties. Her shaved mound glistened as she sat back on the table and spread her legs.

"Detention is not quite over." She winked.

I was right. She was beautiful when she smiled.