You defy him. But he has a cure for that.

"Please Professor, don't...don't slap me..." you sob, "Don't...don't **** me...it's not...not right...Please don't be...be mean..."

"You came here to be a whore, now you can get treated like a whore," he growls. "Now get on your knees and get to work or suffer the consequences."

"Professor, please...please don't make me...please..." you beg, realising that your pleas for mercy are exciting you immensely. Not only that, you can see from the look in his eyes that they're heightening his own arousal, his fat cock thickening as he holds a handful of your hair and sneers at your helplessness.

"I've had enough of your bullshit," he snarls, pulling your hair to **** you to bend over, then landing a painful smack on your bare ass. You squeal, trying to pull away from him, but his grip on your hair is too tight. He smacks you again, and you struggle as you cry out, your hands pulling at his arm that holds your hair. You don't dare strike at him, fearing his retribution, even as you start to weaken as he spanks you.

You've always melted at being spanked. Boyfriends who have play spanked you have been surprised by the sudden voracious lust it awakened in you, some of them unnerved by how overwhelming horny you became. And they were just playing. Professor Garrison is deadly serious, spanking your hard, and your pussy feels like it's on fire with need.

He spanks your quivering ass again, and all your resistance dissolves. You sink to your knees, grasping his cock in your slender hands as you devour it, looking up at him with eyes that signal your total submission.