Office Hours

The university mixer was dull.

Julie had only come because her best friend bribed her with wine and the chance to dress up. She didn’t expect to see him.

Professor Brown.

Tall, composed, that same worn leather jacket and dark eyes that had haunted more than one of her college fantasies. He was standing by the bar, sipping bourbon like he owned the room. He still looked too damn good for someone who once lectured her about Chaucer.

She approached slowly, deliberately.

“Professor,” she said with a soft smile.

He turned. His eyes widened, only slightly, but she saw the flash of recognition.

“Julie,” he said. “It’s been… what, three years?”

“Four, technically,” she replied, taking a sip of her drink. “But who’s counting?”

“You are,” he said with a smirk. “Still sharp.”

She shrugged, biting her bottom lip. “Still strict?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Strict?”

“Oh, please.” She leaned in just enough to make it feel like a secret. “You used to look at me like I was the reason your rules existed.”

“Maybe you were.”

Silence stretched between them. Tension crackled like static. The hum of the room faded.

“I never broke,” she said softly.

“Maybe you should’ve.”

His voice was low now. Weighted. Serious.

Julie felt a flush rise in her cheeks. “Are you saying I should’ve acted out?”

“I’m saying…” He looked her up and down. “Maybe you wanted to. And maybe you still do.”

Fuck. The heat in her stomach curled downward.

“Are you offering detention, Professor?”

His eyes darkened. “I’m offering a chance to prove yourself.”

He set his drink down. “My place is across the street. Come if you want to find out what happens to girls who push too far.”

She didn’t hesitate.

His apartment was clean. Masculine. Books stacked in corners. Leather and wood and dim lights.

Julie stood near the window, trying not to shake as he rolled up his sleeves.

“You said I was strict,” he said, voice steady. “Maybe you need a lesson in what happens when someone ignores my rules.”

“I’m not your student anymore,” she whispered.

“Then take your punishment like a woman.”

Julie’s heart pounded.

He sat in the armchair. “Over my knee.”

She stepped forward, slow but sure. Bent over his lap. Her skirt lifted on its own, gravity and anticipation doing the work.

He ran a hand over her ass, pausing at the hem of her panties.

“White lace,” he murmured. “Cute.”

“Too cute to spank?”

“Nothing’s too cute for that.”

The first smack landed sharp and clean.

Julie gasped, more from shock than pain. Then again. Again. Heat bloomed under the lace.

“Still think I was too strict?” he asked, voice teasing.

She moaned softly. “Maybe not strict enough.”

He pulled her panties tighter, exposing the curves of her cheeks.

“Then let’s correct that.”

The hairbrush was on the table. He must’ve planned it. Or maybe he always had one nearby.

Julie squirmed. “Professor,”

“Quiet,” he snapped. “Or I’ll gag you with those panties you’re about to lose.”

She bit her lip as he hooked his fingers into the waistband and slid them down slowly, revealing flushed, reddened skin.

“All spankings,” he murmured, “should be on the bare bottom.”

Then the brush came down. Again. And again. Her moans grew louder, sharper, her legs shifting.

“Count,” he ordered.

“One, Sir…”

“Louder.”

“Two!”

She barely made it to ten before he set the brush down and stroked her inner thigh.

“You’re soaking.”

“You spanked it out of me,” she panted.

He pulled her up, bent her over the arm of the chair. Spread her legs. Unzipped.

Julie gasped as he slid his cock along her slick folds.

“You sure you’re not my student anymore?” he growled.

“Teach me,” she moaned.

He pushed in deep.

She cried out, not from pain, but from relief. He gripped her hips and fucked her slow at first, letting her feel every inch, every thrust.

Then harder.

Faster.

Her breath came in ragged gasps. Her ass still burned from the spanking, adding a sweet sting to every slap of his hips.

“Come,” he growled. “You earned it.”

She shattered around him, moaning into the cushion, body clenching, shaking. He wasn’t far behind, he slammed into her one last time and groaned, thick ropes of cum painting her from the inside.

They stayed tangled for a while, panting.

Julie finally spoke. “So… detention next week?”

He smirked.

“Only if you misbehave.”