Excellent//Afternoon

P: (Confused) Yes, Ma- I mean yes, Mrs. MacGregor. That's what I believe I gave.

M: (Raises eyebrows skeptically and returns to the paper) Hmm. We'll come back to that in a moment. I also noticed that your paper was not very well-informed. (uncrosses and recrosses her legs temptingly)

P: (Still confused, a bit offended. Uncurls her legs and sits up) What? I put all of the information that I collected from my time at the homeless shelter!

M: (Annoyed) Lower your voice, Penny Peasley, I'm right here. Either you can speak to me like an adult or take whatever grade I give you, is that understood?

P: (Embarrassed) Yes, Mrs. MacGregor, I'm sorry.

M: (Settles and returns to the paper) In any event, that brings us to the heart of the problem, Penny Peasley. How long have you been volunteering at the shelter?

P: (Caught off guard) About a year and a half, I think. I started-

M: (Looks skeptically at Penny) A year and a half and this is all the information you've been able to gather? (Flips the page) Take this part where you describe an old woman coming into the shelter with a shopping cart on a regular basis. Do you know her name?

P: (Perplexed) I- I didn't want to use names in the paper, Mrs. MacGregor. Some of these people wouldn't want to be too visible-

M: Well, is there anything else you can tell me about her? How did she get here? What does she miss the most about her old life? How old is she? (Looks at Penny searchingly) Anything, Penny Peasley?

P: (Unsure) Well, I wasn't exactly sure that's what you wanted Mrs.-

M: (Flips pages warily and sets paper aside on couch) I mean, it's like this throughout the piece. I hear a lot about you and what you do there and how great you are, but nothing about the actual people that you're helping. How much do you actually know about these people anyway, Penny Peasley? Have you ever stopped to talk to one of them, or do they smell too bad for conversation?

P: There's usually so much to do-

M: (Non-chalontly, glibly) Has anyone ever tried to hit on you? Cop a feel?

P: (Swallows hard) No, no one Mrs. MacGregor-

M: (Takes a sip of her iced tea) Have you ever wanted them to? Just once, maybe on a day that you felt frisky?

P: (Incredulously) No, Mrs. MacGregor. I'd never want to-

M: (Shrugs) I just thought I'd ask seeing as you evidently have such a high libido. I thought it might help you out. (Penny shrinks at the mention of the bathroom incident) By the way, whowereyou fantasizing about when you were masturbating in the bathroom during the pep rally? I never did get an answer. (Continues without giving Penny a chance to answer) No matter, there's a much more problematic matter for us to deal with concerning the opinions in this assignment.

P: (Totally off-guard) I don't understand, Mrs. MacGregor. Was there a problem with my(shifts uncomfortably)-how I formed my opinions? I used all of the latest facts and cited everything correctly, I believe.

M: As I said before the purpose of the assignment was for you to give your personal opinions, not the opinions of others. (Picks up the paper again) Here, for example where you talk about how volunteering often does more good for the volunteer than those they help.

P: (Tentatively) Well, Mrs. MacGregor, that's usually the way I've found things.

M: Then it's just a coincidence that I said the exact same thing in class the day before?

P: (Confused, again) I guess it is Mrs.-

M: (Exasperated. Turns the page) And here where you opine that people often volunteer for the wrong positions. That was pretty much the point of my anecdote during the lecture and here I find it in your paper, Penny Peasley. Worse than that, it doesn't even fit in with the rest of the paper you've written.

P: (Panicked, rises to look at the paper) Mrs. MacGregor, can I have a look-

M: (Waves Penny off then puts her hand under her chin and looks at Penny) This is the second time we've had to talk about plagiarism isn't it, Penny Peasley? I can't stress enough how serious of an issue that is, especially in college, (recrosses her legs again and puts down the paper) but it doesn't seem like you're taking my concerns very seriously.

P: (Distracted for a moment) I-I take them very seriously, Mrs. MacGregor. (Regaining herself, desperate) Very seriously, I promise. But if you'll hear me out, this isn't what it looks like-

M: (Takes off glasses wearily) I think I've heard enough. (Leans closer to Penny) This careless and lazy attitude seem to be a major pattern with you, don't you think, Penny Peasley?

P: (Stifled, frustrated) Mrs. MacGregor, I'm not lazy, I mean, I don't think I'm lazy, it's just-

M: (Raises eyebrows) No? Well, all the evidence before us seems to suggest otherwise. You gave me my own opinions on this assignment, basically a resume on the first assignment, and now you've just admitted that you know next to nothing about the people you've been 'helping' at this homeless shelter.

P: (Desperate) But Mrs. Mac-

M: And on the strength of that you want me to write a recommendation letter for you? To put my reputation on the line with close colleagues and friends?

P: (Confused, shocked, caught) Excuse me, Mrs. MacGregor?

M: (Slams down paper) Penny Peasley, don't try my patience! That's the reason you signed up for my seminar, isn't it?

P: (Protesting, scared) No!

M: You thought you would come in, do a little bit of work and skate away with a recommendation to wherever you were thinking about going. (Sits back a bit and calms down) That's why you've been trying to weasel your way into a better grade on each assignment. Yes?

P: (Long pause. Dejected) I just wanted to ask how I could do better.

M: (Calmer, taking a deep breath) I've been quite clear in my instructions and I don't see a need for further clarification, especially when my advice isn't taken. (Sighs resignedly) But you don't want to follow my instructions, do you, Penny Peasley?

P: (Searching, ashamed, squirming) Well...I, Mrs. MacGregor...

M: (Clasping her hands together resignedly) In fact, Penny Peasley, you don't know what you want, do you?

P: (Looking at Mrs. MacGregor's body longingly) I want to do better...

M: Well, it seems we have two problems to address together if we're going to get anywhere. The first problem is finding out exactly what you want out of life and the second is this lazy, spoiled, self-entitled attitude you seem to have developed over the years. The former, we'll have to work on slowly over time. However, the latter can only be corrected through punishment. And that we need to do immediately.

P: (Defeated, in a small voice) Punishment?

M: I'm afraid so, Penny Peasley. There's no other way around it. (Leans back slightly and recrosses her legs. Penny squirms once again) Now, I want you to go over to the bookshelf by the window and pick out the third book from the left on the second shelf.

"Yes, Mrs. MacGregor," I said in a low, dead tone. I felt dazed, defeated, like I was in a trance as I got up from the floor and walked across the room towards the large bookshelf. I just thought I needed some touching up on my paper, but maybe I had some real problems that I hadn't realized before. Was she going to make me read something? Copy down some pages from one of the books? Do a report? It occurred to me that I had never actually been punished before, not by a teacher. I had no idea what to expect. All of the books looked old. They were leather bound hardbacks, all large, ranging in color from dark red to a dusty looking beige. It was an imposing sight. Four long shelves of the biggest, densest looking books ever, like in the reference section of the library. My mind was swimming and I couldn't get a hold of myself. I felt like I was behind the curve. Mrs. MacGregor had been asking questions so fast, I didn't know the answers, how to word them. Then there was that dress. I could see her smooth, ivory skin through the fabric. My eyes kept coming back to her curvy thighs and smooth, athletic calves. I could see her full, round breasts underneath the dress, her pink nipples. Were they as hard as mine?

"Not that one!" Mrs. MacGregor snapped from behind me, waking me from my trance and stopping me from reaching for what I thought was the right book. "Third from the bottom, Penny Peasley, and stop wasting time. Hurry up!" I jumped at her voice and quickly moved my hand up one shelf and pried a brown leather book out of the shelf. The cover read "A Guide to Shakespearian Sonnets," which filled me with panic. I wasn't as keen on Shakespeare as I was on other subjects and things were not looking up.

"Now, I want you to take the book over to the dining room table between the two place settings in front of you and open to page 33." Mrs. MacGregor ordered from the couch. Her voice was calmer now, but still sharp. I made my way over to the dining room table uneasily, trying to avert my gaze from her magnificent body and piercing eyes. I turned to page 33. Sonnet #10. "Now listen very closely Penny Peasley because I'm only going to say this once. Are you listening, Penny Peasley?"

"Yes, Mrs. MacGregor," I replied nervously. I didn't even want to turn around to look at her. My mind was ringing with something like fear, but not a fear of being harmed. I just didn't know what to do next. I didn't know what was coming next. I was lost.

She continued sternly. "I want you to place your hands flat on either side of the book and bend over so that your arms are stiff and your back is arched. Then I want you to read page 33 and page 33 ONLY. Out loud, like you mean it, Penny Peasley. Do you understand?

The firmness in her voice alerted me to the seriousness of all of this. I made sure to catch every word. "Yes, Mrs. MacGregor," I did just as I was told, putting my hands flat on her walnut table, on either side of the white doilies that served as placemats for the two beautiful dinner settings.

"Arms straight, Penny Peasley!" Her voice came as a shock and I was caught off-guard yet again. "Lock them into place." I thought they were straight. My back was arched and my ass felt like it was hanging out. I felt completely exposed and naked, especially in those short white cutoffs. Despite all of this, or maybe because of it, my body was excited and my pussy was aching. I wondered if she could see how wet I was under the cutoffs.

"You may begin," I heard her command from the couch. I started the sonnet. "For shame! Deny that thou bear'st love to any, Who for thyself art so unprovident..."

"Like you mean it, Penny Peasley," My teacher demanded. Her voice wasn't so loud as it was just strong. "louder, clearer." I did the best I could, but the language was so unfamiliar. I just didn't want to disappoint her. I was tired of disappointing her. I had never disappointed anyone and I hated it. I tried to control my breathing, but my heart was beating in my ear like it was going to explode from my chest. My nipples were hard and I could feel the tension in them under the tank top.

I read the rest of the sonnet as loud and clear as I could, slowing down a bit as I finished. As soon as I did, I heard her voice cut the silence once more. "Again." This time, her voice was much calmer, but deeper and still firmer. I read the sonnet over again, my whole body trembling at the thought of her harsh rebuke. But each rebuke made my pussy tingle and sent electricity up my spine. I read it again, and again, and again. Each time, it was clearer to me, the sentences, and thoughts behind them. Then I heard Mrs. MacGregor's voice, "That's it Penny Peasley, memorize and regurgitate. Just like a bratty little 7th grader so that you can get an 'A' and make EVERYONE happy." Her voice was closer now, sarcastic and grim. I could tell she was standing. I could feel her walking towards me, her presence like a heavy weight, a dark cloud.

Finally, she reached the table. "Again," she whispered, her pelvis brushing up against my ass. I could feel the soft cotton fabric of her dress, the leather of the belt around her waist. Then she was leaning over me, her breath hot on my neck like an steam press. Her voice was lower, heavier, huskier, and strangely even more commanding now. I was so freaked out, so twisted around, that I just kept reading, trying to avoid, trying not to avoid. I couldn't figure anything out.

I didn't realize that she was unbuttoning my shorts until I felt the button loosen from around my waist. Mrs. MacGregor's hands were at my waist, pulling the cutoffs down my legs and leaving them in a pool around my feet. Now I felt really exposed. I felt small, powerless, stupid, and afraid. I just kept reading, it was the only thing I had to hold on to.

"That's right, Penny Peasley, going." Said Mrs. MacGregor cruelly. She sounded mad, but at the same time, she seemed to enjoy it. "If you're just going to be a little memory machine for the rest of your life, you'd might as well be the best at it." Her voice oozed acid, burning through me, filling me with something dangerous. It felt like finality, death.

"Now, for being such a spoiled lazy brat, you've earned yourself a spanking, Penny Peasley." Mrs. MacGregor informed me from her place behind my ass, moving back to a standing position. "I bet no one's ever punished you for that self-entitled attitude of yours, what a pity." I could hear her circling me, there was some commotion, but I couldn't make it out. A spanking? I couldn't believe this was happening. I just kept reading. Keep reading, keep reading. I told myself. "Now, if you take your punishment like a big girl, we can finally get on with a real lesson, but if you can't possibly stand anymore, I want you to say 'I'm going to be late for dinner,' loud enough so that I can hear you. Is that clear, Penny Peasley?"

I was so afraid to stop reading that I didn't answer immediately. I heard something thwack against the table. "An answer Penny Peasley?" Mrs. MacGregor demanded sharply, grabbing my torso forcefully. My body lurched forward and started to tremble. My teeth were chattering. "Did you hear my instructions yes or no?"

"Yes, Mrs. MacGregor, I understand," I whined nervously. My clit was throbbing now, my nipples were hard as rocks and my body felt like it was full of sparklers. Everything felt so clear and sharp. I could clearly see the shine on the walnut table. The colors on the walls and carpet, the detail on the paintings, they all came into focus like a camera. Brilliant. I couldn't figure anything out anymore, nothing made sense. This punishment, why I was taking it, what it would solve, it was all a mystery to me. But there was nothing more confusing than my body's reaction. The thought, the mere idea of Mrs. MacGregor spanking me was sending me into orbit.

"Excellent." the world floated out of her mouth like a mist and sent shivers down my spine. Slap! The first swat came down on my left cheek and a sharp, quick pain radiated through my body and my pussy was drenched. My breath caught in my throat. Slap! The second slap came down, this time on my right ass cheek and my legs began to quake. She wasn't using her hand, as I thought she might, but something else. It felt like one of those little riding crops whips you saw on show horses sometimes. This one had a flat, square end that left a sharp little stinging packet with every hit. Slap! I gasped and moaned a little bit as I read the last couplet. It hurt, it really did, but -Slap! With every hit Mrs. MacGregor leveled, my heart raced faster and faster and I felt powerful sensations running through my body. Everything felt real, more real than it had ever felt before. Slap! Another hit across both ass cheeks, down near my thighs where my pussy was spasming beyond belief.

Then Mrs. MacGregor's voice, more breathless, wilder, but with almost exquisite poise. "You'd like it to always be this easy wouldn't you? Penny Peasley LOVES to coast, that's why she's so nice to all her teachers." Slap! "That's why she laughs at their jokes and works in the office and tells them how happy she is in school when she could really care less."

Slap! Slap! Slap! Three swats on my right cheek this time, close to my waist. My brain was soupy and the room was spinning. I was reading by memory now-I didn't dare stop-, my eyes were unfocused and my body felt like it might explode at any moment. But my mind clung to her words. As soon as she said them, I felt the sting of recognition and a wave of guilt washed over me. Until then, I hadn't thought of my behavior that way. I thought I was being a good student, was giving everyone what they wanted. I hadn't thought of myself as lazy, a manipulator, someone who looks down on others. But it's as if Mrs. MacGregor reached inside of me, pulled out my soul and showed it to me. Those traits were mine, she had me dead to rights. I felt like I had come home, like she knew me .

She delivered three more swats in totally random places on my ass, two quick and one more trailing far behind those. Each swat resonated through my body to my brain and back to my clit like a wave in a pond. Each ripple made me feel more and more savage, less and less stable. Everything was running together like a CD on fast forward. I suddenly realized something was dripping down my chin. Saliva. I was drooling, my mouth was watering and my breath was so hot. My eyes were heavy with lust. The pages of the book were so white against the dark walnut table, everything was so bright and the room was so still and quiet. I felt like I was floating away.

Finally, I felt Mrs. MacGregor's soothing hands on my battered bottom. "That was excellent, Penny Peasley," she encouraged, her voice was soft, almost a whisper with something like awe. "Turn around." I tentatively stood up and turned to face my teacher. The first thing that leaped out at me were those blue eyes, they were blazing, focusing intently on me, powerful and demanding. She was breathing heavily. Her chest heaved up and down and I took a moment to focus on those tits. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were so full and red, just below my forehead. I could feel her lust, wafting off of her like a fog, and elixir, a dangerous drug. I was intoxicated, an addict at 18. I knew that my nipples were hard, I knew she could see. I wasn't embarrassed. I knew that my own breath was deep and hot and that she knew that as well. I didn't care. I knew that my pussy was dripping, that my thighs were moving back and forth ever so slightly, less than an inch from hers. I knew she knew, but I no longer gave a fuck.

Mrs. MacGregor put her hands on my arms just below the shoulders and held me lightly. "Penny Peasley, tell me what you want ." She said it earnestly, with care, and interest, as if we were in class and we were talking about an assignment or something. It was like she hadn't spent the last 10 minutes behind me with a whip.

I looked at her, not directly in the eyes though. "I want..." I started breathlessly. I couldn't find the words, couldn't produce the sounds. I don't know if it was fear or lack of knowledge or what. I was so frustrated! I lifted my hand and reached for her chest but she slapped my hand away.

"I asked you to tell me!" She said in a terse whisper. "Tell me what you want." I could feel her looking at me expectantly. Her eyes were on me. She was waiting on me.

"I want you to...touch me," I said limply, casting my eyes downward. I was so embarrassed. I felt like I was going to rip apart at any moment. I felt so unpredictable. I felt like hitting her, tackling her, crying into her chest, bursting into flame.

"Is that all you want?" Mrs. MacGregor asked with a hint of slyness in her commanding tone. I looked up to find her looking over my body with a knowing grin on her face. Like a carnivore, I thought. Like a predator.