Sir

I knocked on the door softly, swallowing my nerves. "Enter." I pushed open the door and walked into the classroom. He was sat behind his desk stroking his pen across the books he was marking. I stood in front of him, smoothing down the short black pleats of my skirt. "Sit. You are to write out the phrase on the blackboard until I tell you to stop. Write neatly." He didn't even raise his head to look at me.

I moved over to the front desk and sat on the hard wooden chair behind it. A pile of paper and a pen lay in the middle of the desk. I looked up at the blackboard. 'I must follow my teacher's instructions immediately, exactly and at all times'. My heart skipped a beat and I sneaked a look at him. Even though he was my teacher and quite a bit older than my eighteen years I couldn't help but shiver with desire at the words. Perhaps he meant only that I should not answer back in class as I had done earlier that day. But I imagined that he meant more; much more. "Write." I jumped back to reality, picking up the pen and beginning to write, remembering to write as neatly as I could.

I don't know how long I wrote for. My hand cramped. I felt tired. My mind was struggling to focus. "Stop," he commanded. I dropped my pen, flexing my fingers. "Stand in the corner of the room facing the wall whilst I inspect your work. You will be punished for any mistakes I find." I stood and moved across the room. "Hands on your head," he ordered. I complied.

A number of minutes passed, the only sound the movement of the paper as he studied my work. I felt a nervous knot form in my stomach as I contemplated his threat to punish any mistakes. My breathing was hard and fast. "There are twenty-nine mistakes. Let's make it a round thirty. Come over here." I moved towards him, my eyes fastened to his, desperate for a look that would tell me it would all be ok. He didn't look at me once. His coldness sent a shiver down my spine.

"Bend over the desk. Lift your skirt." I obediently did as I was asked, my body tensing with fear as I guessed what was to come. "Hands flat on the desk. Remain still." I struggled to control my shivers as I felt his hands on my waist pulling my tiny white cotton knickers down around my knees and then off. "You will count each of your thirty strokes." I took a deep breath and closed my eyes tightly.

SMACK!

"One" I gasped. He paused letting the fire in my ass build up. Just as it reached its pitch...SMACK! "Two" and the burning spread across my body, increasing until it was time for the third. I bit my lip hard between my counting. I was determined not to let out a sound that would give away to him either the pain or the burgeoning pleasure he was creating. I could not help it. My body was becoming slick with pleasure. I hoped more than I'd ever hoped anything in my life that he would not notice. I tried to concentrate hard so I could count. "Twenty-four"; SMACK! "Twenty-five" and now tears were flowing down my cheeks. My thighs were hot and soaked now. My ass was burning. I tasted blood in my mouth from biting my lip so hard. I grew certain that my intensely aroused state came through in my words.

Finally; SMACK! "Thirty"; I exhaled slowly; remaining statue-still, waiting for what would come next. The only sound I could hear was my own heartbeat, loud and fast.

An eternity followed. I heard his footsteps as he moved around the desk to stand in front of me. I fixed my eyes to the floor. I felt his warm breath on my neck as he moved closer. His lips brushed softly against my ear as he whispered. "Did you know your cunt is dripping on my classroom floor?"

I shut my eyes, feeling my body flush in humiliation beneath my uniform. "You're a very bad girl." Softly touching my chin he pulled my head up, forcing my eyes to his. A small smile flickered across his lips as he brushed a finger across mine. He showed it to me, a drop of fresh scarlet blood on it from the bite on my lip. "One day I'll make you scream and you won't be able to stop it," he whispered. He stroked my cheek, leaving a trail of blood behind. Almost silently I moaned.

He stood up and returned to the seat behind his desk. "I hope you have learnt your lesson and I won't find you answering back again. You may leave." I stood and turned to him, letting my skirt fall back over me. I saw my underwear lying on his desk. I reached out for it. His hand was lightning fast as he stopped me from retrieving it. "You won't be needing them." He didn't look at me, concentrating on the pages in front of him. I couldn't breathe. "Same time next week," and I sensed I was dismissed even as I struggled to digest what he had just implied. I turned to leave, feeling with every step the lust-fuelled wetness between my legs, feeling the skin on my cheek tighten as my blood dried.