In Love With Shakespeare

Sore

"I find you incredibly beautiful," I said eventually.

I think it was the right thing to say.

"Well, thank you," my professor said coolly. "But you still need to learn your lesson."

I held my breath.

Suddenly I felt the sharp whack of a hand slap – thwack! – into the soft cotton at the back of my panties.

Ouch! That hurt! The pain was reasonably intense, but nothing I couldn't handle.

Then a second blow, this time harder – THWACK! I grabbed the legs of Professor East's chair, trying to steady myself. The sound of hand on behind seemed really loud this time. I'd seen earlier that that the office window was slightly open and I imagined that sound echoing round the ancient courtyard.

"You've been such a bad girl," my professor said sternly, and I could feel myself melting – almost literally – into her hot lap.

Then I felt something that actually made me stop breathing entirely for several seconds. It was the sensation of several long fingers gently inserting themselves under the tight elastic at the top of my panties at the back. I figured my professor was about to pull them down a little!

That thought sent a thousand butterflies flapping and falling in my stomach. I already felt dangerously – and deliciously – vulnerable and exposed. I was sure those feelings would be redoubled if Professor East was able to gaze down at my bare butt, or even smack her strong hand into the tight muscly cheeks that would soon be laid completely bare to her steady gaze.

Sure enough, I could now feel my panties being slowly peeled from my butt cheeks. It was like my gorgeous professor was gently but firmly peeling the skin off a peach. I could feel the cool evening air just lightly breezing against my naked flesh there. I gripped the chair-legs, bracing myself.

Rather than peel the panties right down, it seemed my professor was choosing to leave them tight across the tops of my thighs, like some kind of delicious restraint wrapped snug around me.

"Be careful with me," I said quietly.

"You should have thought of that before you spoke as you did!"

Ooooh! She still sounded so mad with me! I don't know I still reckoned that was some kind of achievement, but I really did!

SMACK!

Uuugh! I let out a little scream and grabbed tighter onto the chairlegs.

That was the loudest smack so far – and also the most painful. I imagined the sharper sound of flesh-on-flesh reverberating around the seventeenth-century cobblestones outside, interlaced with my little scream.

It even felt like we were making a little bit of history of our own. Wouldn't this be a tale to tell in the college yearbook?

And I'll tell you another thing too.

Don't ask me why, but I felt really, oddly safe at this point. There was something about playing with the 'dark side' that was strangely reassuring – like me and Professor East were jointly looking some devils straight in the eye and here we were, still living, still smiling.

That probably sounds really weird, but it was actually a nice feeling. I think there was some kind of trust there.

I could not help, of course, but notice another little development which rather broadened the smile that was spreading slowly across my face. While Professor East's hand had previously bounced back after slapping into me, this time it kind of lingered where it had hit, stroking just a little as if trying to calm me and make me feel better. And if I was not very much mistaken, my esteemed professor was actually in the process of slipping one of her long, elegant fingers along the length of the little hot valley that divided my presumablyreddened butt cheeks!

Ooooh baby! My stomach was on fire now. I pushed my butt upwards a little to intensify the pressure from that finger.

I gripped the chair-legs even tighter than ever, thinking, Take me, professor, take me! Take me any which way you like!

"You must be sore," my sexy prof said suddenly, with a lovely soothing tone to a voice.

"A little, ma'am."

"Well, perhaps you need a little Indonesian love-butter?"

"What's that ma'am?" I said, intrigued and excited.

"It's just a little something I picked up on my travels. It's soothing, but it also has the quality of intensifying any pleasurable sensations."

"I see," I said, still gazing at the floorboards. For some reason, I felt like being really cheeky. "Well, it sounds just lovely!" I said. "Did you say 'Indonesian love-your-butt'?

It wasn't the greatest joke, but I swear a little giggle escaped my stern professor's lips, and I was thinking Yes! I made her laugh!

Within moments, Prof East seemed quickly to retrieve all her severity and she said sternly and without humor, "No I did not. I said Indonesian love-butter."