Educating Hannah

She wondered if she had pushed things too far by dressing up for the final class. More than that, she wondered why she was suddenly so aroused.

She watched him as he interacted with the students. He was handsome, she had to admit. Mid thirties, a flop of brown wavy hair that fell just below his ears and was always threatening his hazel eyes. His melodic, but confident voice to go with his obviously strong hands.

She was fading into fantasy when suddenly she realized that her classmates were packing up and leaving. Was that it? Her heart beat faster in her chest as she sat nervously waiting for the room to clear before approaching him. When she finally did, she held her bag guardedly with two hands in front of her, blocking his view of her skirt and legs.

"Sir," she said, head lowered but eyes on him, "You said you wanted to see me."

Mark took a deep breath and steadied himself. He was about to cross the Rubicon with this young woman and he had a moment's debate about whether he wanted to go through with it. As he saw her standing meekly in front of him, her emailed desire flashed through his mind, and he committed to putting himself on the line.

She watched as he walked to the classroom door and closed it. Being on the third floor of the classroom building, at the end of the day on the final day of classes before break, no one would wander by, and if they did they wouldn't pay the closed door any mind whatsoever. The university was already a ghost town, and only becoming more so.

As he turn to her from the doorway, he said calmly, "You skipped class on Thursday. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

It wasn't quite what Hannah expected, though honestly she didn't know what she expected. "Yes, but it was the next to last class and there wasn't an exam, so..."

"So you thought you'd disrespect me by simply deeming my class not worth your time." He finished her sentence.

"No," she said, suddenly defensive as he approached, "No I love your class, I just didn't think..."

"No," he interrupted her again, "You didn't think, did you?"

Her eyes were moist and her pink painted mouth was parted in surprise at his sudden sternness, she hadn't imagined Professor Devers would respond to any student this way.

Mark continued, "I see now what you meant when you told me that you felt yourself in need of discipline to become the best possible version of yourself."

She recognized the words she had sent to her anonymous coffee date and knew in that moment that her professor was testing whether she wanted to reconsider their relationship now that class was ending. At the realization every part of her tingled, and her mouth went dry. She knew she could walk out of that room, and he wouldn't stop her. She also knew if she stayed, then she would be his.

Hannah lowered her head and replied, "Yes Sir, this is what I meant."

"Such behavior on the part of a promising young woman such as yourself is not to be tolerated," Mark walked toward her, reached out and lifted her chin with his forefinger so her eyes were on his., "You need to be punished."

She swallowed hard and nodded. Although nervous at what he might possibly mean, she was also more aroused than she had ever been in her young life.

Slowly he circled behind her as she tried to be remain still and keep her lowered eyes on him. When he moved behind her he placed his strong hands on her narrow shoulders, and Hannah felt his hot breath on her neck.

"Lean forward and grip the edge of the desk," Mark whispered into her ear, his hands easing her forward, encouraging her to bend at the waist.

Hannah hesitated, did he really mean to take her here, in the classroom? It was quiet but anyone could walk in. Her voice trembled as she tried to communicate her concerns. "Sir?"

Mark ignored her doubts as he guided her forward until gravity and balance forced her to reach out and grip the edge of the desk as instructed. He ran a hand down her back as he moved to her left, taking in the feel of her petite frame until his hand slid down over her skirt and gave her ass a squeeze.

"Did you wear this for me, today?" He asked her as his hand lingered inappropriately. "Did you hope I would notice?"

Hannah let out a little moan. "Yes Sir," she admitted, feeling more vulnerable and exposed than ever even though she was still fully clothed.

Leaning in Mark whispered in her ear, "Well, I noticed." and he let his hand slide lower to the hem of her skirt, onto her thigh and then up the inside of her leg, pushing the skirt up with it. The edge of his hand pushed against her tights with her panties and sex beneath and slid along along her and up over her ass. When the movement of his hand had finished, her skirt had been pushed up to her slender waist.

"Now," he added in a clear and commanding voice, "Count." Before she had time to process what that meant, he brought his hand down on her upturned ass, still bound in tights, such that it made a muted smacking sound in the room.

She suddenly sucked in a breath and the feel of the sting of it and gave a little whimper, almost forgetting herself, but she quickly recovered enough to say, "One, Sir."

He brought his hand down again, a bit harder this time and he watched her lurch forward, relying on her grip on the desk to keep her in position as she again gave the count, "Two, Sir."

His hand lingered on her still covered ass, and he said, "I'm sorry, Hannah, but this just isn't right."

At his words her heart sank in disappointment, had he changed his mind? Had she done something wrong? She felt more exposed than she ever had realizing suddenly how insane it was to receive a spanking from her professor in the classroom where he taught her.

She made a move to stand but before she could she felt him behind her, his hands on her hips under her skirt, fingers finding the waist of her leggings and panties and adeptly pulling them down to her knees, exposing her fully to the vacant room.

"Oh god," Hannah couldn't help the phrase escaping her lips as she felt the cool air on her bare skin.

Mark leaned over her and breathed into her ear, "All spanking should be done directly on flesh."

Hannah shuddered, letting a little moan escape her lips just before Mark brought his hand up and back down on her bare flesh. A loud stinging slap echoed in the room as Hannah let out a yelp before counting the number.

He alternated cheeks, slap after slap against the soft flesh of her buttocks. Letting out yelps and squirming under him, Hannah never failed to count, even as the number grew higher and her professor's palm impacted more intensely.

She sucked in air through her teeth and held back any exaggerated wailing, but his hand stung and she knew she would be feeling this spanking for a few days. More than the pain, however, Hannah felt electric, aware of herself in ways she never had been before.

She was aware that her nipples had grown hard and erect and rubbed against the fabric of her bra each time she lurched forward from the impact. Aware of the way her leggings trapped her legs at her knees, making her feel vulnerable and keeping her constantly aware of how exposed she was. Aware of her own growing arousal which Mark seemed to ignore in favour of the discipline he offered for her missing class.

Hannah desperately wanted him to touch her, to take her, to claim her. She wanted and expected her professor to lose control and fuck her exposed and willing body right there in the classroom. With each slap, her anticipation grew.

Finally Mark's hand came down on her reddened, enflamed ass, and she all but moaned, "Twenty-five, Sir." while she panted and squirmed trying to provide herself the friction she desired to no avail.

"I think that's enough for today," Mark said, his hand lingering on her smooth backside, the alabaster flesh turned angry red by his touch. She whimpered at his words and moved her hips trying to bring his hand to where she wanted it.

Giving a small chuckle, Mark asked, "Oh, were you hoping for release?"

She nodded and her blonde pony tail bounced as she did. "Please, Sir," she begged meekly.

"You'll cum when you've earned it," Mark explained pulling his hand away. "Now pick yourself up and pull up your tights."

Confused by his control, Hannah whimpered in frustration but did as she was told. She kept her eyes on the floor as she tugged her tights and panties back into place under her skirt, more aware than ever as to how wet she was.

Embarrassed and not quite knowing what to do, she stood there, head bowed, hands folded in front her, cheeks burning a bright red with desire and mortification.

Mark reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead that had escaped her pony tail. She lifted her eyes to his and saw the steely eyes of a man in control.

"If you want this to continue," he explained calmly, "then the first rule is that your orgasms belong to me." He paused for a moment as confusion washed over her face.

"I know how aroused you are, and I know what you want," he continued, "but you are not allowed until I give you permission. If you leave here and make yourself cum without it," he warned, "then this will be the only moment for us."

Hannah's brow furrowed as his words sunk into her understanding. How could he expect her not to get herself off after that? She wanted to whine like the teen she so recently was about how unfair he was being. She squirmed where she stood and instead of giving into her desire to beg and plead she said simply, "I understand, Sir."

He took her phone and used it to send himself a text. "There, now you have my phone number," he explained, "I want you to call me tonight at 9:00, and not a minute after. If you have disobeyed, then I'll know."

She nodded in a haze of need, not quite understanding. Mark, however, collected his things in his briefcase and slid on his overcoat.

"I think we can be good for each other, but you have much to learn," He smiled as he paused at the door, "But then again, I am a teacher so you're in luck." And as he left he called out, "Remember, nine o'clock."

Hannah was left standing alone in the classroom, cheeks still flushed red, still aware of her need. She glanced around and walked back to her desk, legs trembling, thoughts scattered. Hannah had always assumed that submission led to sex, that the Dom would be so aroused as to be unable to deny making use of her for his pleasure, which she would allow, but Mark was so... in control. It was herself that was coming undone, grateful for his firm hand.

She knew without his command to abstain she would have considered getting herself off right there in the empty classroom. Now she didn't want to disappoint him, and more than even her own release, she desperately wanted more of him.

With those thoughts she left the room and walked the empty halls and grounds back toward her apartment, aware of what was left undone with every step she took. She turned her eyes from the few people she passed, afraid they would see her desire in them and misinterpret it. The few college aged boys she encountered glanced at her pretty figure, short skirt and leggings still catching every eye. Would they have Professor Devers' restraint? No. Of course not. They were boys who only saw their own need. Professor Devers was a man. He saw her for what she wanted to be. What she needed. The thought made her shiver more than the December air.

When Hannah returned to her apartment she tried to concentrate on anything other than what just happened. She wished she had a girlfriend she trusted enough to call and tell her all about it, but she couldn't imagine which of her friends would keep such a secret, let alone not judge her for letting her professor spank her bare bottom in a classroom.

Instead she sat on her bed and tried to pay attention to the many different social media apps on her phone. As she did, she found her free hand lazily touching various aspects of her body. The exposed skin on her other arm, for a start, her neck, the slope of her breast.

When she caught what she was doing, she suddenly stopped, wary of the increasing electricity flowing through her unsatisfied body. She thought of his command that she wasn't allowed to cum until he allowed her to.

His command. She suddenly had a Sir and he was giving her commands. The thought made her ache with need. Hannah wanted to be good, but she squirmed on her bed suddenly reliving the events of the morning in her mind.

She rolled over onto her stomach so she could reach behind her and rub her still stinging ass. Hannah had meant it to be a motion of comfort, but she suddenly couldn't resist lifting her hand and bringing it down on her own ass in a pantomime of Mark's discipline.

Bending her knees slightly she raised her ass up on her bed and slapped her own ass again, before rolling onto her back and reaching between her spread legs to rub herself through her tights. Her hips pushed up into her hand, while somewhere in the back of her mind a voice was pleading with her to stop, to be good.

"How will he know?" the more desperate voice demanded. "He'll never know..." Hannah slipped past her own defenses, past her own desire to be a good girl and humped her hand with a desperation she had never known.

Just then her phone pinged, and then pinged again. It was like an alarm clock waking Hannah from her lustful stupor. She forced her hand away even though her hips still thrust at the air and reached for her phone.

Two texts from the same number appeared.

"I know what you want." The first said.

The second simply read, "Don't."

Reading the texts her heart was racing. How did he know? He did know! The realization made her both more aroused and more determined to follow his direction. She felt so exposed, as though there were cameras in her room, but the thought passed, replaced with the realization that Mark just knew her. And that thought alone threatened to send her over the edge.

Needing the distraction, Hannah quickly threw on her coat, grabbed her bag, and headed out. At least being in public would keep her hands from straying even if her mind kept replaying the feeling of being exposed in the classroom, or even if she kept reading those two texts over and over.

Exams were finished for Hannah, so she tried to fill her time with the idleness of the internet, Instagram and Twitter. All the while glancing at the time as she scrolled while sitting in the coffee shop. Why did he have to set the time so far in the evening? As she squirmed in her chair, she wasn't sure she would make it until 9:00.

Mark was having his own trouble concentrating. While some of his distraction was down to arousal at the replayed memory of exposing the young coed in his classroom and giving her the first taste of submission, the greater part was owed to his chastising himself for being so reckless as to handle the girl in his classroom.

Sure the hall was empty, but anyone could have seen. The doors in the classroom building didn't even have locks, and now he wasn't sure if he even bothered to shut the door. Maybe someone did walk by. Maybe a report was being filed right then.

No. That was his imagination, his anxiety. He took a deep breath as he tried to focus on grading the papers he had just collected. His mind was filled with the sounds of Hannah's whimpers at the smack of his hand on her bare ass. The way her smooth flesh had felt on his fingers.

He glanced at his watch, Hannah would be home by now. He wondered if she would obey him or if she would immediately give in to her need. Throughout his class she had presented as an overachiever, one of the eager to please students who live for the approval of the professor's they admire. Such a girl would surely want to obey.

Then again, he could see her arousal from the spanking, and the almost painful expression of need in her eyes as the realization set in that he wasn't going to use her to completion. She might need some reinforcement, so he sent the text.

Of course this too was dangerous as it created an electronic record of their relationship which wasn't exactly proper. But this, unlike the spanking he gave, was a calculated risk. She was worth it. He saw great potential in her and was going to see it through, no matter where it led.

Returning to grading, he regretted that he had another commitment that got in the way of his explorations with Hannah, but he was loathe to call it off as it had become something of a tradition. The last day of classes, drinks with his colleague from the physics department, Dr. Caroline Moore, which often led back to her place.

At seven he met her at the University Club, a posh little establishment open only to faculty and distinguished alum. She was waiting for him at a small table near the fireplace, the warm wood interior of the club reminiscent of a hunting lodge without the taxidermy.

As Caroline stood to greet him, he took her hands in his and leaned in for the customary greeting of a kiss on the cheek. She was almost as tall as him, at least in the three inch heels she always seemed to be wearing, and the flicker of the fire from the fireplace glinted off of her glasses obscuring her deep brown eyes. Mark signalled to the waiter for a whiskey.

Smoothing her pencil skirt before retaking her seat she smiled and asked, "So, Mark, the semester end well for you?"

Sliding into the chair opposite her, Mark shrugged, "I suppose it did, I'm just glad to almost be done... still a pile of grading you know?"

"My students' labs were done last week, so I have some minimal bookkeeping, but no stack of papers." She took a sip of her drink, wrapping her red lips around the straw that led to something fruity in a tall glass. Her eyes never left his and the flirtation of it all made him smile.

"Honestly Mark," she said leaning over the table, "I'm not sure why you ever insist on drinks, you know you could just ask to meet at my place."

He gave a chuckle, "Oh Caroline, you know this isn't only about that... fun as it is."

She gave him a queer look, "You met someone, didn't you?" When he gave a little, non-committal shake of his head she pressed, "You did... don't worry, you can tell me. I'm not the jealous type."

"It's nothing, really," he half admitted, "I mean, it might lead to something, but, I can't really talk too much about it, there's not much to say."

Caroline's body language changed into a defeated shrug. "Well I can't say I'm not disappointed," then leaning in so she could whisper, "Sir."

Mark had met Caroline at the new faculty orientation when they were first hired seven years prior. They had immediately hit it off sharing a similar wicked sense of humor and a general disdain for the stupidity of University administration demands.

Of course they had dated for a while, but they realized very quickly that despite a certain sexual chemistry, including compatible interests in domination and submission, Caroline lacked Mark's dedication to order and preferred to live in chaos. As a result, they drove each other crazy if they spent too much time together. They were able to remain friends, however, and occasionally enjoyed the benefits that come with such friendship.

"So who is she?" Caroline asked, resigning herself to the idea that this was now a friendly drink and likely nothing more.

Mark shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, I..."

"Oh my god," she whispered, "It's a student, isn't it?"

"Shh, Caroline!" Mark's eyes went wide as he leaned in. "We met on a dating site, I didn't know."

Caroline shook her head, "Mark, you have to be careful. You're both adults but these things go very wrong quickly."

He nodded in agreement as he sipped he whiskey. "Why couldn't you just learn to use a hamper?" he chuckled.