She stands outside the door, her hand poised to knock, hesitant and fearful. She can still hear his voice, quiet and civilised as always with his cultured English accent, but with a steely edge to it that had set the butterflies to cavorting in her tummy. "Kindly report to my study at 6.00 this evening, Ms Starlit. I think a little remedial discipline may be what you need."
An excited buzz in the class around her had only increased her anxiety. 'Remedial discipline' - what exactly did it mean? Ever since the Principal's mysterious announcement, only a few days earlier, that Professor Kemp would "now be privileged, in particular cases, to offer remedial discipline to certain students", wild rumours had swept the campus. And now she, Starlit, would be the first to experience the reality of it - whatever it was. It really wasn't a privilege she felt overwhelmingly eager to accept.
And for what? So little, really. A moment's inattention. Hardly a major offence. Well, all right, maybe a little more than a moment. Five minutes, perhaps. Ten?
At all events, she had only realised how far away her thoughts had been when it was suddenly borne in on her that she was the centre of an expectant silence, and that the whole class was looking at her. Including - oh help! - Professor Kemp. He had, she realised with alarm, just asked her a question. Now he was gazing at her quizzically, one eyebrow upraised.
"Er - I'm sorry, Sir - I didn't quite - er, catch...?"
"Evidently not, Ms Starlit. I was asking whether - if you would be so good - you might paraphrase for us the principle of Kant's philosophy that I just read out to the class?"
Principle? Oh god - what principle? Frantically her brain backpedalled, trying to recapture the words that must have been drifting unnoticed into her ears over the last few minutes. She made a desperate grab at a phrase swimming somewhere in the nearer reaches of her consciousness.
"Oh, well, Sir - I think by the Categorical Imperative Kant meant - "
The professor raised his hand. "No, Ms Starlit. Not quite what I asked, I'm afraid. We were discussing the Categorical Imperative at a rather earlier juncture this morning. Since then we've moved on a little. Or at least, the rest of us have. You, it seems, have been on a slightly different track. Perhaps you'd care to tell the class what exactly has been engrossing your attention so powerfully?"
Her cheeks, already glowing with embarrassment, burned yet more hotly. No way could she possibly admit, not for a moment, what she'd been thinking about - confess the fantasies that filled so many of her waking dreams, and quite a few of her sleeping ones. Fantasies that involved a man of quiet authority scolding her for her misdeeds, and then - oh, the delicious shame of it! - gently but firmly drawing her down across his knee, lowering her panties and - and - spanking her. Spanking her soundly on her bare bottom, while she gasped and yelped and promised better behaviour. Spanking her with hand and paddle and hairbrush, each one igniting ever fiercer fires on her squirming mounds. Spanking her until every inch of her tender bottom was stinging and glowing, and she was tearfully begging for mercy. And then at last, just when she felt she couldn't possibly take any more, raising her up, hugging her and wiping away her tears, soothing and comforting her and telling her that it was all over - until the next time....
Wordlessly she gaped at Professor Kemp, quite unable to speak. Sniggers ran round the class. Oh god - if any of them ever guessed - !
The professor smiled ironically. "Apparently something of a highly confidential nature. Well, young lady, I shan't press you further." He half-turned, and with a rush of relief she thought she'd been spared - but then, with impeccable timing, he turned back. "However, Ms Starlit, this isn't by any means the first time in recent weeks that your attention has seemed to be elsewhere during my class. I might put it down to your finding Principles of Modern Philosophy an inexcusably dull subject - amazingly enough, I'm told, there are those that do." His eyes briefly swept the class, eliciting nervous giggles. "I might - were it not that, in the first place, you turned in some excellent and well-argued essays on the subject earlier this semester; and in the second place, that several of my colleagues have told me that they too have recently noticed your increasingly frequent lapses in concentration. So I can't claim the distinction of having been singled out for your neglect."
He fixed her with a penetrating gaze. "You're certainly not stupid, young lady. Far from it. Nor do you seem to be in poor health. You just appear to be losing the habit of paying attention. Well, I think we must see if we can't help you regain it." And then he uttered the fateful phrase. "Kindly report to my study at 6.00 this evening, Ms Starlit. I think a little remedial discipline may be what you need."
Starlit's eyes open wide and she nearly falls into the room in her haste to get the door open and not have any more penalties added. She looks around the office to see Prof. Kemp sitting behind his desk. The look in his eyes implies that he is laughing at her. She gives him a furious glare before catching herself and giving an aura of demureness and submissiveness.
"You wanted to see me, sir?" "Yes, Ms. Starlit." Starlit shuffles her feet and moves her hands nervously. "Stand still, please. No moving." Starlit freezes and looks very apprehensive. She takes the time to look around the front part of the office and her eyes land on wall behind the desk. There were different implements on it. Starlit recognized them from her fantasies and magazines. There was a paddle, a riding crop, a cane, a big wooden spoon, a brander, a hairbrush, and a few rulers. Her eyes went wide and she felt her face heat up and she stared at them. Oh my God. I hope he isn't planning to use all of those on me. Well.. I do want to find out how the cane, riding crop, paddle, brander…. oh heck… I want to know how all of them feel… but not at the same time.
Starlit's attention is caught by the spanking implements and she fails to hear the professor calling her name repeatedly and then getting exasperated with her and getting up. She does notice him then since he is standing in front of the implements. She blinks and looks at him. He has a serious look in his eyes. She gulps and takes a step back. Like a shot Prof. Kemp is around the desk and bending Starlit over his knee. She doesn't even have time to gasp. Then he delivers 10 hard smacks to her bottom. " I told you to stay still. This is what I am talking about. You have been suffering from lapses in concentration recently. We have to remedy that." Ten more smacks. "Ouch. Stop that. Please, sir. I'm sorry. I won't do it again." "Uh-huh. We have to deal with this problem of yours and resolve it." Starlit gets five more spanks and then is let up. She starts rubbing her bottom, but Prof. Kemp holds he hands away. "Keep your hands at your side." Starlit looks at the floor. "Yes sir."
Professor Kemp walks back to the wall that holds the spanking implements. Starlit follows his movement with her eyes, which widen as he begins take each item down, weighing it in his hands and then putting it back. She has the urge to run away, but doesn't cave in since she believes that will get her into more trouble. He decides on the paddle and walks back to where Starlit is standing.
"Let me tell you about the method I have for dealing with students with concentration problems. You will be spanked on your bare bottom until you give the correct answers to the questions that I am going to ask you. Is that clear?" Starlit's eyes widen as she stares at Professor Kemp. She gulps and whispers, "Yes sir." Too quickly for her to know what he is planning, Prof. Kemp lands five swats with the paddle on Starlir's bottom. "Ow ow ow" "I didn't hear you. Speak louder." "Yes sir. It's clear, sir." "Good girl."
"Now face the desk." Starlit does and realizes that there is an empty space in the center of the desk. "Now bend over and hold onto the other side of the desk, please." As she bend's over, Starlit's short skirt rides up until it is at the bottom of her cheeks. She feels her face flush as she realizes that she is going to be in more trouble than from just the problems with her concentration. She tries the lower the edge of the skirt so that it covers more of her legs, but it can't be pulled down. Before she can put her hand back to the end of the table, she feels another three swats on her bottom and jumps up into standing position. "Do not reach behind you Ms. Starlit! Understand?" Starlit rubs her bottom. "Yes sir, I do." "And not touching your bottom until I give you permission to do so." Her hands fall to her sides. "Yes sir." "Good. Now bend over the desk again. I think there is something else that we also need to discuss."
Starlit gulps and reluctantly bends over the desk again and puts her face between her arms as they stretch to the other side of the desk. "What have we here?" Starlit feels the paddle at the bottom of her skirt. "Is there a regulation concerning the length of skirts at this school Ms. Starlit." Starlit tries to say "Yes sir," but the sound comes out mumbles due to the arms blocking the sound. Smack SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK. "Speak clearly. Do not mumble." Starlit manages to stay down this time. She turns her head to the side and repeats, "Yes sir." "And what does this regulation state?" "That skirts have to be at the knee, sir." "If that were the case Ms. Starlit, where would the hem be in a bent over position?" "At mid-thigh sir." "Is this the state of your skirt Ms. Starlit?" "No sir." "Very well then. Six strokes with the strap will be added to your punishment. One for every inch that your skirt is above the regulation stated." Starlit turns around to face Professor Kemp. "Please sir. I won't do it again." SMACK! "Face front Ms. Starlit. I am sorry, but my mind is made up."
"Now to your original problem. What was the question that I asked you today in class Ms. Starlit?" Question? What question? Something about Kant. Categorical imperatives? That sounds right. "Er - Categorical imperatives of Kant's philosophy sir." SMACK!! SMACK!! "That is incorrect Ms. Starlit. Please try again."
Starlit's brain races frantically. What on earth had they been discussing? If only she'd had the sense to check the set textbook on Kant before reporting to Prof Kemp's study. Another stupid oversight - it was as almost though she'd wanted to be spanked....
His voice comes again, cool but with an edge of impatience. "Well, young lady? I'm waiting."
She grabs desperately at an answer. "Er - er - a posteriori synthetic judgements, sir?"
"No, Ms Starlit, I'm afraid not. A valiant guess, but wrong. Though in a way quite appropriate, since it's very much a posteriori that your discipline is going to be administered. I think, my girl, that it's about time we got down to basics."
To her dismay, she feels him lift her scandalously brief skirt and fold it back above her waist. "Ah," he says. "And just what are these, may I ask?"
"My - my panties, sir."
"Indeed? And from what emporium of erotic lingerie did you buy them, I wonder? Most stimulating - but hardly appropriate for a well-brought-up young lady at a respectable seat of learning, are they? Or were you planning to supplement your student grant by moonlighting as a hooker?"
"N - no, sir."
"I'm relieved to hear it, Ms Starlit. Nonetheless, I think a further six strokes of the strap must be added to your final tally for wearing so provocative a garment. Which, by the way, must have cost you a good deal. I'd hate to risk damaging them - so down they must come, well out of harm's way. In any case, I'm sure they would have provided scant protection to the target area."
With alarm, she feels his hands at her waist, and her most intimate garment is lowered to her knees. He pats her now utterly bare and defenceless bottom cheeks.
"Very pretty," he says. "You have a charmingly plump and shapely bottom, young lady. One that just cries out to be spanked. And now it will be - very thoroughly indeed. Unless of course you can recall the answer to my question?"
He pauses. "No? Very well, then."
SMACK!!! SMACK!!!
She gasps as the paddle delivers two stinging swats, one to each cheek, but somehow manages to stay bent over, gripping the far side of the desk.
Another pause, just long enough for the sting to sink in, and then -
SMACK!!! SMACK!!!
"Owww!! Oh please, sir - "
SMACK!!! SMACK!!!
"Aaaah! Owwww!"
"Yes, young lady? You have the answer?"
"No sir, but please - "
SMACK!!! SMACK!!!
"Ouch!! Yeee-OWWW!"
And so it goes on. One stinging spank on her right cheek, one on her left cheek, a calculated pause, then repeated - for what to her seems like hours, although it's probably no more than ten minutes. Until finally he puts down the paddle and says quietly, "Very well, Ms Starlit - you may stand up now. But no rubbing, please."
Slowly, painfully, she obeys. Her bottom is blazing like a furnace, and must surely be swollen to twice its normal size. With remarkable will-power she manages to follow his instructions and refrain from rubbing her anguished mounds. He turns her to face him. Her face is flushed and her eyes are filled with tears. But he sees something else there - something that intrigues him. Could it be - fulfilment?
He decides to follow his hunch. "Well, Ms Starlit, since the answer to my question still evades you - I suggest that when you leave here you consult page 35, paragraph 2 in your textbook, and report your findings to me in my next class. But before that, I have another question for you. And this time, since we're no longer in front of all your fellow-students, I hope you'll feel able to answer it. During that period of inattention in my class that brought this retribution upon you - what exactly was it you were thinking about?"
She gazes at the carpet, transfixed. She could lie, of course. But somehow it seems that she can't deny the truth to this man who has just chastised her in so intimate a fashion. Slowly she raises her gaze to meet his eyes, and whispers her reply.
"Spanking."
A slow, warm smile spreads across his face. "Ah - so I was right. Well, young lady - I hope the reality lived up to your expectations?"
Again the shy whisper. "Almost, sir."
"Only almost? Dear, dear - and in what way did the experience fall short?"
Her face is now almost as scarlet as her other cheeks, but she bravely responds, "I - I always imagined you putting me across your knee, sir."
"Did you now? Well, I'm sure that can easily be put right." He smiles again, almost tenderly, and takes her by the hand, leading her towards the sofa in the corner of his study.
Starlit follows Prof. Kemp wondering if she had done the right thing by admitting what she had been thinking. Would the reality be as good as the imagined scenario? What if she did something wrong? She could feel her heart fluttering and her breath getting quicker from nervousness.
They reach the sofa all too quickly in Starlit's opinion. Prof. Kemp turns around and sits down. Starlit keeps her eyes downcast awaiting instructions. And to hide the anticipation in her eyes. "Look at me, Starlit." Starlit looks up. "Are you sure this is what you want?" Her face flames up again as she nods her head. "Okay then." Prof. Kemp takes hold of her arms and leads her over his lap.
The feeling is so strange. Vulnerable. More than over the desk. And it feels more intimate, in the sense that Starlit is actually being held. She squirms a bit to get comfortable.
SMACK!!
"Oowww." "Stay still." "Yes sir." Starlit reaches back to rub at the sting. Prof. Kemp sighs. "I see that you have already forgotten your paddling." Starlit freezes and blushes at the same time. And her hand falls back to the floor. "I'm sorry, sir."
"Let's get started. You don't have to count. But don't reach back or try to get away. Understood?" "Yes sir."
SMACK Starlit gasps. SMACK SMACK SMACK "oooww" SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK Starlit gasps again. SMACK SMACK SMACK "ooww"
The spanks are slow and moderately hard. Starlit doesn't squirm, but settles in to enjoy her first over the knee spanking. So far it is a wonderful experience. She feels Prof. Kemp rubbing her bottom every few spanks and feeling the heat radiating from her bottom. SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK
Suddenly she feels her skirt, which had fallen back down to cover her bottom, rising. She wonders where her panties are and realizes that they had slipped off her ankles while she was in position. She reaches back to protect her bottom before remembering what Prof. Kemp had told her. He takes hold of her hand, raises her skirt to her waist and gives her an extra-sharp SMACK. "OOWWW." "I told you not to reach back." SMACK SMACK SMACK "I'm sorry, sir. I forgot." SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK "You seem to be making a habit of that Ms Starlit. I do not recommend you continuing on this trend." SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK "Ooowwww. Yes sir. I won't. I'm sorry." "See that you don't."
Then the spanks increase in strength and Starlit is kicking with her legs and "owing" more often. The sting hurts and is great at the same time. SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK Prof. Kemp is still rubbing her bottom every few smacks, but now it is on her bare bottom and more embarrassing. She doesn't dare reach back, but her face is as red as her bottom is. SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK
When her bottom is a bright, bright red Prof. Kemp stops spanking Starlit and just rubs her bottom. She lies over his lap enjoying the attention. The spanking was everything she had hoped it would be. "How do you feel?" Starlit sighs, "Great." Prof. Kemp laughs and rubs her bottom for a while more before helping her to stand up. She sways a bit on her feet and he has to steady. When she can stand on her own again Prof. Kemp looks at her and says, "Now that you bottom has been warmed, shall we move to the final part of your punishment?" "Punishment? I thought it was over." "Oh no Ms Starlit. Have you forgotten about the strapping you have coming given the length of your skirt and the panties you were wearing?"
Her heart leaps. Is he serious? A lovely long spanking session every week - especially across his knee - would be sheer heaven. "Oh yes please, sir," she whispers.
He laughs. "Well, you are a glutton for punishment, young lady. Perhaps you should wait until you've felt the strap. You may not be so keen after that."
He leads her back to the desk and once more bends her over it. Unbidden, she reaches forward and grasps the far side of it. "Good girl," he remarks approvingly as he goes to the wall to select a suitable implement.
He comes back with a wicked-looking tan leather strap with a short wooden handle. Inwardly, Starlit quails. This strap has a ferocious aspect. Will she be able to take it - especially on a bottom already so blazingly hot and tender? But she passively awaits her fate.
Prof. Kemp once again lifts Starlit's short skirt, folding it well back above her waist, and contemplates the richly blushing mounds of her soundly-spanked bottom. What a lovely plump, rounded rear end this girl has, he muses - absolutely made to be spanked. And she thoroughly appreciates it, that much is quite clear. A weekly disciplinary session with this naughty young student would be a charming prospect.
He raises the strap and strokes it across the plumpest part of Starlit's radiant curves. "Twelve strokes, young lady. And if you stand up, or put your hands over your bottom, there'll be extra strokes added. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," she murmurs.
Swish-THWAPP!!
She gasps. A strip of fire traces itself across her already blazing cheeks. It hurts like hell - yet it's strangely stimulating.
Swish-THWAPP!! Right across her ultra-sensitive sit spot this time, just where bottom meets thigh.
"Yeee-OWWW!" she yelps - but at the same time a paradoxical feeling of joy floods through her. I can take this, she thinks - I really can!
So she stays obediently bent over, presenting her trembling bottom to the strap's cruel kiss, for ten more strokes. And when it's over she doesn't leap up but stays in position, lost in savouring the exquisite fire it's lit on her bottom cheeks - and in adjacent areas of her anatomy.
His voice seems to come from distant miles away. "All right, young lady, it's all over. You can get up now - and rub if you want to."
She stands up and turns to face him. "Oh sir," she says, greatly daring, "I'd prefer you to rub it for me." He laughs, takes her in his arms, and flips up her skirt. And while he gently rubs her throbbing bare bottom-cheeks she weeps quietly on his shoulder. Finally he releases her with a kiss on her forehead. "Good girl," he says. "You took your punishment very well."
Starlit retrieves her panties, deciding to leave them off for the moment, and Prof. Kemp escorts her to the door and sees her on her way with a farewell swat that makes her yip. "I'll see you in my class tomorrow, Ms Starlit," he says "And I trust we'll find your memory and concentration are much improved." He grins. "I think you'll find you still have a tangible reminder. And I'll see you here again at 6.00 on Friday, my girl - for a little refresher course."
"Oh yes, sir," she says. "Thank you, sir." And as she makes her way back to her room, the delicious afterglow of her spanking suffusing and pleasuring all her nether regions, Starlit thinks to herself, "I wonder - if I was even more absent-minded in class, maybe - just maybe - I could get him to make that twice a week..."