The first part was here.
She stood in the corner, she wasn't sure how long, until her arms ached from holding them stretched out. She could hear the tick of the clock moving above her head.
The professor sat at his desk, supposedly working, but now and then his eyes lingered just below the hem of her dress, or at her waist.
When he crossed the room slowly, purposefully, she gave a relieved sigh. He took the cane from her and she gingerly stretched her arm muscles. He pointed to the desk and asked her to bend over it. Her elbows settled on to the polished surface. She glanced quickly back over her shoulder, then returned to the required position.
She felt a line tracing up the back of her calf as he used the cane to tease her. It touched the edge of her skirt. With a quick movement he brought it down on her thigh, twice, hard. She winced and her knees gave a little but she didn't make a sound. The cane resumed its slow upward tracing, lifting her skirt to the lower edge of her bottom. The stifling warm air of the room was completely quiet. She shivered.
His hands gently tucked the skirt up to her waist now, out of the way. He resisted touching her bottom. Instead, he gave it 10 more blows, quick and hard and by the eighth she was crying out each time.
He lifted her upright and spun her around.
"I have a surprise I think you will like, girl," he said, smiling. "Or, if you don't, I know I will like it."
Then: "Take off your clothes".
She looked at the floor while she undid the small, white buttons. He lifted her chin when she had finished and gazed hard into her eyes. She wanted to flee from his stare, wanted him then to chase after her and knock her to the ground, to pummel her. He looked into her eyes with a nod and slight smile, knowing she wouldn't run. Couldn't run, really.
"And your bra" he said, less gently than before.
She did as she was told, letting it fall to the side. He shook his head slightly at this act of carelessness.
He considered saving his corrections for another day, but decided it was best not to wait.
"Pick it up and put it back on", he commanded, as she stared back with a mystified expression.
When she had refastened the garment, he took a hard grip in the back of her hair and propelled her to the bathroom adjoining his office. Through some freak of architectural history, it also included a shower, which is why he had particularly chosen to keep this office when others he'd been offered had much better views. Showers could be so useful in his line.
She felt her body moved against her will. Kicking off her shoes as she went, she was pushed to the bathroom and then down into a kneeling position in the dry shower stall.
"You don't seem particular about the care of this bra, the way you tossed it on the floor, girl. So you shouldn't mind what am about to do."
He didn't make a move to turn on the water.
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