Special Office Hours

Cammie knew she needed to do anything she could to get her grades up in Dr. Clarke’s psych class and soon. If she failed one more test, she’d fail the whole class and her daddy had made it clear that, if she did fail, he’d cut her off for real this time. Cammie thought about, like, maybe studying but quickly rejected that as the morning tequila shot talking. Instead, she looked up Dr. Clarke’s address, slipped on a sheer tank top that showcased her black bra and a mini skirt that hung low on her wide hips while still only barely stretching past her bubbled ass, and called a rideshare.

Cammie figured she’d show up, flirt a little with the stuffy guy, maybe blow him if she had to, and he’d be happy to keep her grades up. Dr. Clarke was definitely surprised to see her, but he ultimately let her inside when she said she wanted to discuss his class. He guided her to his living room and even offered her something to drink. Unfortunately, that was where her plan stalled.

Sure, when he’d first seen her, his eyes had raked obviously up and down her tight, scantily clad body, and she’d felt his gaze burning into her ass when he waved her inside ahead of him. Still, once they started talking, the jerk wouldn’t rise to the bait. No matter how far forward Cammie leaned or how many suggestive things she said, he flatly declined her suggestion of earning some ‘extra credit.’ Instead, he just kept telling her she needed to try harder. So obvious.

With an internal groan, Cammie finally accepted that flirting wouldn’t be enough and slid across the couch towards him. With a fake smile, she tried to slide her hand up his thigh toward his pants zipper, but Dr. Clarke grabbed her arm and pulled her off the couch in a sudden burst of cold anger. Standing and dragging her protesting to the center of the room, he firmly ordered her to stay put. Stunned, Cammie found herself obeying as he moved to a cabinet and grabbed something from it. Walking slowly but purposefully back to her with whatever he’d grabbed held behind his back, he spoke in a domineering tone that reminded Cammie of her daddy.

Telling her that, if she insisted on acting like a brat and a whore, he’d at least make sure she was a well-behaved one. With that same stern tone, he ordered her to strip and Cammie found herself eagerly complying. Sure, he might not be rolling over as easily as she’d expected, but at least she was heading back towards familiar territory. Besides, now that she really thought about it, Dr. Clarke was kind of hot in that gruff, cigar-and-scotch scented sort of way. Cammie quickly discarded her top and skirt before coyly peering back at her watching professor clad only in her underwear.

He raised an eye at her behavior but ultimately nodded with approval and something flipped happily in her stomach. When he ordered her to get on her hands and knees, she did so without question and gazed anticipatorily at Dr. Clarke’s crotch, but he made no move to approach. Instead, he dropped the object he’d been holding at his feet and walked around her back towards the couch.

With wide eyes, Cammie realized the object was dark leather paddle with the word PIG stenciled on it in huge print. While she was getting over her surprise, Dr. Clarke told her to pick up the paddle and bring it to him. Still a bit shocked, Cammie made to grab it but he coldly told her to stop and explained how she was to bring it to him.

A wave of shame rushed over her but she also felt excited at the idea. As Cammie crawled forward and leaned down to grab the paddle with her mouth, she noted that her panties were undeniably wet. With the paddle in her mouth, she turned and slowly crawled the long way around the room toward Dr. Clarke, making sure to teasingly sway her ass high in the air as she did. Finally, she crawled across the couch and dropped the paddle in his lap before pouting up at him, like a puppy looking for treats.

Instead of offering a treat though, Dr. Clarke brusquely picked up the paddle and pulled Cammie over his lap. The first ten or so swats on her ass weren’t that hard, and she actually giggled a little as she felt the paddle lightly jiggle her ass. The **** of the swats kept picking up though, and Cammie was soon squirming over his lap. He just held her firmly in place and kept going. Every once in a while, he’d stop paddling her ass and gently massage her reddening cheeks, his fingers always managing to find and stroke the ever growing wet spot on her panties between her thighs. After he was done massaging her though, Dr. Clarke would inevitably start swatting her again, even harder than before.

Soon, Cammie was alternating between tearing up and squealing as the PIG paddle rapidly cracked across her bright red ass or moaning eagerly as Dr. Clarke’s obviously experienced hands teased her needy body. When he was finally done paddling her and told her she’d done well while groping her hot ass, Cammie nearly came then and there.

Telling her he was satisfied she could now be a well behaved brat, Dr. Clarke unzipped himself and pulled out his hard dick. When he told her that it was time to teach her how to be a well behaved whore, Cammie didn’t hesitate. Practically ripping her underwear off, she wasted no time straddling him, slamming her soaking wet pussy down onto his dick, and riding him as hard as she could.

For the rest of the semester, she never once missed one of her and Dr. Clarke’s special office hours and her grades rapidly improved. In fact, she was going to be his TA next semester!