She loved it, but now its time to go

"Oh God that was fucking hot!" Monica gasps excitedly, wiping the semen off her face as she stands. "You're a beast, a lovely sexy beast. You're going to want me again soon, aren't you Kyle? You're going to fuck me like a bitch again."

"Good chance of it," you smile as she picks up the paddle, running her fingers across its smooth surface.

"Forsan miseros meliora sequentur." She reads the Latin script with a chuckle. When she sees your curiosity she translates it for you. "For those in misery, better things will come." It's an odd line to have engraved, but not as weird as it could have been. "It's a quote from Virgil," Monica explains, "I remember having to translate it and a hundred others back when I was in college." She says it like college for her was decades ago and not just four or five years and once again as you watch her you are reminded how young this teacher is. Monica is much closer in age to the students in this school than you or most of the other teachers here, it is no wonder the girls talk freely when she's around.

"What can you tell me about the Reflections that students write when they get in trouble?" Your friends from the Corps would be laughing their asses off at you now, you realize with a hidden grin. You have a hot young blonde half naked in your office and you are asking her about work? Monica scowls before sauntering back to you and resting her hands on your shoulders, but she is not upset with you.

"In my opinion, Ms. Naylor's reflections are the biggest waste of time ever." Her blue eyes sparkle with emotion as she qualifies her assessment. "For some of the girls it might be good to have them think over their mistakes, but we have a core of manipulative students who are spoiled bitches used to getting away with anything." She pauses long enough to trace her fingertips along your arm. "They have figured out the 'formula' for writing heartfelt confessions and the words mean no more to them than the Latin on that paddle." She squeezes your biceps appreciatively, "I meant it when I said what they needed was to have their asses tanned. I don't see Ms. Naylor going along with bare-assed spankings, but you never know."

You smile at the thought of how little Monica understands her boss, and wonder how she'd react if she knew the deal between you and Diana Naylor. You notice Monica's eyes take on a distant, thoughtful look and she turns a worried face to you.

"Do you think I'm totally weird, Kyle, acting like that?" Her eyes search yours for any indication of how you feel. "I'm not always like that, I promise. It's just," she hesitates briefly but then goes on in a rush. "we were talking about you paddling Tamara, and you looked so much like a schoolgirl's fantasy I got a little carried away."

"Well, it was a little different." You admit, "but you are one damn sexy woman."

"I'll take it." Monica laughs shyly. suddenly looking a little concerned. "Hey, umm, this doesn't mean we're dating, right? I mean you seem really nice and if you want to go out sometime that'd be cool." She licks her lips nervously before finishing what she's clearly worried about. "It's just I don't want you to expect every date to necessarily end like this...I'm sorry Kyle, I'm saying this all wrong, but I just don't want you to think I'm always kinky like this and hung up on getting spanked."

"Monica, you're fine." You assure her, not sure how you feel about being called an older man. Monica's Fulton roleplaying was odd, but not as strange as some of the things you've seen women do.

"Really?" She asks with a bright smile.

"Really."

"You're sweet," she says, scooping her thong off the floor and kissing your cheek. "And a world class fuck. I've got to run. Later Kyle."

Before you can say anything she's flounced out the door, leaving you drained and satisfied, but more than a little bemused.