Punish her for it

You walk over to the rack of punishment implements and take a thick, heavy, rectangular polycarbonate paddle.

"Imogen, your behaviour towards me is quite inappropriate, so I'm going to beat you."

She appears shocked by the baldness of the statement, but not unaccepting. Standing up, she bends over the table, pulling her skirt up round her waist and adopting the punishment position, on tiptoes, back arched, belly pressed down onto the table top, head up, looking straight ahead.

"Please may I be spanked for coming on to you, Professor." The fact that she admits the nature of her fault is to her credit, but it won't spare her bottom.

You walk up behind her and whack the unyielding paddle brutally into her peachy cheeks, eliciting a gasp, despite her experience at receiving chastisement.

"Thank-you for the first swat, Professor. Please may I have the second."

You haven't told her how many are to come, because you intend to continue until her buttocks are beaten to a pulp, **** to sit down upon for days on end. With only a few minutes until the scheduled end of the meeting, you're going to have to hurry and so lay on the next smack without delay.

* THWACK *

"Thank-you for the second swat, Professor. Please may I have the third."

* THWACK *

So it continues, the only change the increasing strain in your gorgeous student's voice as she struggles to thank you in response to the steadily rising anguish emanating from her rapidly bruising rump. Each swat comes as soon as she finishes pleading for it and when she pauses for breath between blow and thanks, you admonish her mercilessly to speed up.

After twenty swats, tears are flooding down her face, her words tumbling out desperately as she nears total hysteria, but you don't let up the pace.

* THWACK *

"Tha'you f'the twen'y-first swat, Prof'sor. Please may I have the twen'y-second."

* THWACK *

"Ah-ah-ah! Thank-you for the twenty-second swat, Professor. Plea' may I ha' the twen'y-third."

"Too long, Imogen, we'll have that one again."

* THWACK *

"Aaaargh! ThankyouforthetwentysecondswatProfessorpleasemayIhavethetwentythird."

"No, reply straight away, Imogen. Again."

* THWACK *

"Thank. You. For. The. Twenty. Second. Swat. Professor. Please. May. I. Have. The. Twenty. Third."

"I'll start over if you don't buck your ideas up, young lady."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it hurts so much!"

Imogen finally breaks down, sobbing uncontrollably while you swing the paddle time and again, counting as many swats as she can, but missing just as many. When the count reaches thirty, but is actually far more, you finally stop and press the implement vertically between her swollen, battered cheeks. Your punished student now moves for the first time since adopting the position, shuffling her feet apart whilst remaining on tip-toes. Her arse looks quite delightful, black with bruising, fading to maroon at the edges. When you inspect it with your fingers, her skin is almost painfully hot to the touch, in danger of abrading if you continue much longer, but the flesh beneath is so soft and yielding that it's almost like a water-filled balloon.

Taking a look at the time, you announce that today's chastisement is over.

"We'll have to stop there, Imogen, but I'll continue next week, until this foolish crush is beaten out of you."

"Yes, Professor, thank-you, Professor," she wails out wretchedly. "I'm so grateful, Professor and I'm sorry I couldn't take the spanking like I ought. Thank-you for giving me another chance next time. I promise I'll do better. Please may I thank you for punishing me for behaving inappropriately, Professor."

That reminds you, Imogen has to tip you. You don't want to send mixed signals, but maybe a sexual tip would reinforce the message that such acts are not emotional in nature.