The Classroom Ordeal

With astonishing timidity, both hands slowly wound their way around the white face of the clock, each movement agonizingly slow. Jenni’s eyes gazed intently into the circle from across the room, watching each minuscule motion with agony. She longed to reach up, remove the damn thing from the wall, and dash it to pieces against the chalk covered board. She inwardly groaned. How much longer could a group of advanced placement students tolerate biology class? Her thoughts drifted back over the previous weekend instead of the lecture. Ms. Temis continued her droning lecture about the biology of cells, harping about mitochondria and permeable and non-permeable surfaces and so on and so forth until it all became a monotone jumble in Jenni’s mind. Her thoughts faded away from the monotonous discourse until they focused on the clock, counting away the final minutes until the school day ended. 

Ms. Temis’ spectacled eyes were still buried in her book, a huge teacher’s edition tome that gave her all the answers to the questions, and yet did nothing for her capabilities to illuminate young minds. Jenni shifted in her seat, smoothing her blue plaid skirt around her legs, fidgeting against the boredom. 

As her teacher began another section on mitosis, Jenni felt the soft touch of a shoe. She started in her seat as she realized that Erica, the girl seated directly behind her, had tapped her ankle. She almost turned but remembered swiftly that Ms. Temis tolerated no interruptions and that violations were immediately and mercilessly dealt with. Jenni stared forward resolutely, totally resolved not to attract the punishing eye of Ms. Temis. 

Erica kicked her again, this time with more force, and Jenni slowly shook her head. Ms. Temis continued to read from the book and Jenni ignored Erica’s incessant tapping. The hands of the clock moved another fraction, marking the time with slow even ticks. 

Jenni stiffened when she felt the sharp point of Erica’s pencil dig into the soft skin at the nape of her neck and she hunched her shoulders upward. Keeping an eye on Ms. Temis, she casually reached upward to remove Erica’s pencil point from her neck. But as she reached backward her hand encountered something other than a pencil and she felt a small square of paper pushed into her hand. Then the sharp prickling of the pencil was gone. 

Jenni brought her hand backward and she froze in terror as she saw the small note. She glanced up at Ms. Temis, fear rising to her throat, but the teacher was still boring her students to death. Jenni hastily brought her hand down to her lap, hiding the offending piece of parchment. 

For several minutes she concentrated on the lecture, filling her mind with osmosis and asexual reproduction. But the insipid disquisition of Ms. Temis tempted her mind to wonder about the small square piece of paper, hidden under the hem of her skirt. Slowly, her eyes fastened on Ms. Temis’ face, she drew the note forth and carefully unfolded it. Flattened out on her lap, hidden from view by her desk, she guiltily looked down onto the paper. 

“Jenni!” called out Ms. Temis sharply, admonishment in her voice. 

Jenni jumped in her seat, before even reading the paper, startled by the sudden shout of her instructor. 

“Yes Ms. Temis?” she asked quickly. 

“What are you looking at?” demanded Ms. Temis, her eyes narrowing. 

Jenni gulped and stammered, “N-n-nothing, Ms. Temis.” 

Ms. Temis sneered at her, shaking her head. “Then you will explain how that small piece of paper that has fallen off your lap onto the floor is nothing, young lady!” 

Jenni glanced down and saw that in her startlement, she had caused the still unread note to fall not an inch from her sandaled foot. Jenni’s eyes widened in alarm and she shook her head. 

“I-I-I don’t know what that is, Ms. Temis.” She replied. 

“Bring it here, now!” Ms. Temis ordered. 

Jenni stood up, carefully smoothing her skirt downward. She knelt down and scooped the note upward and tried to read as she walked to the lectern. But Ms. Temis snatched it away from her and read it silently. 

Jenni watched Ms. Temis’ gray eyes turn to steel and goose bumps raced up and down her arms. Ms. Temis crumpled the note up into a tiny ball and hurled it at the waist basket, missing the rim. Jenni watched as it fell to the side of the can against the baseboard. 

“You know what the punishment for passing notes is, don’t you?” demanded Ms. Temis. 

“Yes Ms. Temis,” said Jenni, tears coming to her eyes. “But I didn’t pass it! Please believe me!” 

Ms. Temis snarled. “Of course I am supposed to believe that!” The teacher took hold of Jenni’s arm and yanked her forward toward the large oak desk that stood at the front of the room. As she was pulled, Jenni’s large shirt pulled against the front of her chest and for the briefest moment, each delicate nipple was outlined against the cloth, large and solid. 

Ms Temis gasped, eyes wide. Her hand came up and without a second’s warning, she grabbed hold of Jenni’s nipple, outlined perfectly by the thin cotton of her shirt. Jenni let out a squeal as the pain shot through her. 

“How dare you? How dare you come to this class without wearing the appropriate underwear?” 

Tears came welling up into Jenni’s eyes, her finger locked around Ms. Temis’ wrist. The teacher hadn’t let her breast go. “Please Ms. Temis, I’m sorry! It won’t happen again! Please! You’re hurting me!” She broke into sobs. 

Ms. Temis face turned scarlet, but she let go. “How dare you! I will deal with that infraction as soon as I am done punishing you for the note passing! Now face the desk, young lady! Immediately!” 

Jenni nodded, her eyes bleeding the watery tears of misery. She took a single step forward until she felt the hard edge of the desk bite into the tops of her thighs. 

“Bend over!” demanded Ms. Temis. 

Jenni leaned over the desk, resting her throbbing nipple and arms on the writing surface. The tears continued to spill from her face, pooling softly under her upturned cheek. She closed her eyes as she heard the desk drawer being pulled open and she knew the large leather crop Ms. Temis kept there had been removed. She also knew that the punishment was about to get much, much worse.

“Lift your skirt, young lady,” Ms. Temis ordered.  

Jenni made no move to obey, trembling against the flood of emotions that flooded through her. Ms. Temis made a growling sound and grasped the hem of Jenni’s skirt, flipping it upward over her buttocks and back. 

The sudden gasps of her schoolmates as well as the grunt of astonishment that came from Ms. Temis told Jenni that the sight of her bare and pantiless bottom had surprised at least some of them. Ms. Temis’ mouth opened and closed like a caught fish, filled with fury at the unbridled disobedience of Jenni’s decision not to wear underwear. 

“You will be punished for that as well!” Ms. Temis screeched loudly, smacking the crop against the palm of her hand. 

Jenni said nothing, enduring tears of embarrassment as her classmates caught sight of her creamy white buttocks and the smooth pink lips of her sex deep between her legs. She pushed her thighs together tightly, trying to block even the smallest peek of her sex to the now hungry eyes of her classmates. But clearly Ms. Temis had other plans. Instead of hitting her bottom, the crop tapped heavily on her inner thigh, pushing. Jenni had no choice but to comply, spreading her feet wide, then even more, until she could feel the air swirling around her dripping wet pussy.

The first stroke against her bottom took her totally by surprise, though it shouldn’t have. Her fingers gripped the edge of the desk, as if dangling from a cliff, as her bottom clenched in agony as a line of fire seemed to erupt across both buttocks. Jenni cried out loud, feeling the radiating pain and then heat cascades downward over her smooth skin. The crop landed again, and then again, beating its sharp painful path across the landscape of her seat. She counted silently, squealing with each blow. The fire roared in her ears and the salty taste of her tears slipped across her crimson lips. Ms. Temis hesitated; she examined the red streaked cheeks of Jenni’s bottom and then gave the girl the twentieth stroke anyway. 

“Stand up and turn around!” ordered Ms. Temis. 

Jenni slowly lifted herself up from the desk, her arms and legs trembling. Her hands went to her ass, the flesh burning and stinging. She saw the faces of her fellow students and realized that they had all seen every little part of her. She saw their riveted attention, staring in fascination and desire. She quickly looked down, flushing with embarrassment. 

“Place your hands palm down on the desk behind you, young lady!” Ms. Temis demanded, the apparent anger still raging through the teacher’s face. 

Jenni leaned backward and placed her hands on the flat surface behind her. She felt awkward, tilted with her breasts, stomach, and loins oddly extended toward the class. But at least the skirt around her waist had fallen back down to conceal her still smarting bottom.

“Take one step forward!” demanded Temis. Jenni trembled and took a tiny step forward, keeping her hands flat upon the smooth warm wood of the desk. 

“NO! A large step, you slut!” Ordered Temis. 

Jenni jumped and stepped outward, pushing her groin and breasts outward as her body arched itself upward and back. Ms. Temis reached forward and grabbed the edge of her white blouse and yanked hard. Tiny white buttons flew outward, like small pieces of popcorn, showering the front row of the schoolmates turned audience. 

Temis yanked the white cloth aside, baring a perfect set of creamy white breasts and light pink areola. Jenni gasped as the cool air rushed by her nipples and she felt her skin involuntarily tighten, hardening, pushing the delicate tips of her breast outward. Ms. Temis’ eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“Now spread your feet.” She told the girl. “As wide as you can.”

Jenni took two small steps outward with each leg, spreading her legs apart and pushing the cotton sides of her skirt outward. 

“I think the humiliation of your punishment will be as important as the physical reminder, young lady.” Ms. Temis said and she lifted the front hem of Jenni’s skirt and tucked it into the waistband. The movement exposed Jenni’s shaved slit, the glistening pink folds, and the desperate clit peeking out from its hood.

Jenni shivered under the onslaught of stares and carnivorous looks of her class. Her spread legs and bared breasts perfectly displayed every secret charm and piece of her body. Her body quivered and then suddenly she felt a spurt of wetness between her legs. The crop swung through her vision and came crashing down upon her breasts. Her lips parted with a sudden cry and she arched outward, thrusting her hips and breasts forward in a knee jerk reaction. Temis quickly followed with another crashing blow, bringing a bright red welt to surface across both breasts. 

A series of quick short slaps on each lush nipple turned Jenni’s breasts bright crimson, repeating the heat seared look of her buttocks. Over and over her breasts were tenderized in a deluge of strikes, bringing sheets of tears to her cheeks. As if the devil had taken her, Ms. Temis swung harder and harder.  

And then the blows stopped. Jenni’s body ached and sheets of pain radiated out from her bosom like the heat of a bonfire, stinging her very soul. But in the moments following the intense shooting pains, a heat that had begun building deep within her as she dealt with the exposure of her body came close to fruition. The thick wetness inside her sex flooded downward and she knew that the lips of her flower were soaked with desire. 

Ms. Temis moved the weapon between Jenni’s legs. She began stroking the pink petals with the leather end, softly, which only made Jenni groan, thrusting lewdly forward. But then Ms. Temis’ wrist snapped, the wooden handle swinging hard to pound the leather head of the crop sharply against the very apex of Jenni’s sex. With an agonizing cry the young girl arched and twisted, but she stayed in position as Ms. Temis pulled back and struck again. 

Agony exploded through Jenni, but as she rose up on tiptoe, her body shaking violently as Ms. Temis beat her pussy, it almost seemed as if the pain faded. There was fire and heat, but as Jenni shuddered under each strike, it wasn’t the sensation of punishment and pain that filled the girl’s mind. It was something else. Something more visceral. Deeper. With each additional stroke, Jenni’s nerves tightened and she felt the oncoming orgasm sweep upward toward its peak from a fathomless depth. As Ms. Temis slammed the crop into Jenni’s sex, the young girl pushed her loins forward, meeting the crisp bite quicker and with more sparks. 

Ms. Temis began calling out the number of strokes, her nasally voice enunciating the number sixteen. Jenni surged forward as the next swing came up between her legs. The rush of adrenaline cascaded and rushed through her. Again Temis swung her crop and Jenni twisted to center the head of the whip right on her clit. Jenni gasped out loud, shaking in desire and pleasure, the pain morphing into the explosive, orgasmic intensity blooming between her legs. Temis called out nineteen and swung again low, smashing the rod of the crop against Jenni’s sodden petals. Jenni jumped and her body began the physical meltdown of orgasm. 

On the twentieth lash, wave upon wave rushed through her veins like fire, filling her body with the roaring of her blood. Her chest heaved with strain as her lungs filled hungrily to fuel the rushing cells of her loins with oxygen. Still more waves rocked her, threatening to overwhelm her and she could feel the tsunami beginning to build, a final orgasm of shattering height. But then the blows stopped and Jenni clenched her teeth, her hips grinding as she hung there, on the cusp of orgasm. 

Ms. Temis hesitated, fully intending to end the punishment there, at the twentieth stroke, watching as Jenni’s brutal humiliation and whipping had almost culminated in sexual relief. The smirk on the teacher’s face was hidden from the other students, but Jenni, her veins still on fire with desperate need, saw it. Their eyes met and a single, unspoken word was communicated between them. Ms. Temis smiled wickedly, then raised the crop high above her head and brought it swiftly up between Jenni’s legs, slamming it as hard as she could into the red and steaming petals of flesh between the girl's legs. 

The tsunami crested, raging up higher than Jenni thought possible and her body shook and quivered like gelatin as the orgasm broke and rushed through every pore and every limb. Her eyes rolled backward as her brain overloaded, locking out all sensation except for the sheets of pleasure exploding through her form. Her arms crumpled and her body turned as it fell. She lay in a sodden heap, half on the desk, half off,  feeling the sticky wetness of her orgasm seep through the aching and hot lips of her sex. She lay motionless, simply breathing the cool sweet air. 

Ms. Temis stepped backward, staring at the fallen form of the abused girl. Her eyes widened in alarm as she realized she had stepped over a line better not crossed. She dropped the whip and walked swiftly out of the room, leaving the students in stunned silence. No one moved. Least of all Jenni.

The harsh sound of the final bell rang out and the students quickly rose from the seats. The thumping and bumping of bags and purses, of books and shoes, filled the room, but no voices. No one spoke. Jenni felt each person pass her, looking down at her half naked form. 

And then she was alone. Slowly, carefully, she raised herself up. She gathered a few of the buttons that lay scattered across the floor, but her blouse was ruined. There was no way to close it properly. She looked down at her breasts. Red welts crossed them, though the nipples were swollen and flushed. Her ass still seemed to sting and she could feel the ridges caused by the wooden handle of Ms. Temis’ crop. But most of all her pussy tingled and smarted, sore and hot and wet.  

She gathered her things. Finally she moved toward the door and her eyes caught sight of the small white smashed ball of paper. She leaned down and picked it up and held it. With slow patience, she pulled the creased sheet apart and saw the heavy masculine script scrawled across it. 

“Jenni, you’re so sexy!I hope Ms. Temis sees you with this note so you are punished. I want to see you hit with that crop,” she read silently. It was unsigned.

And Jenni smiled.