Give her what she wants

"Miss Fulton," your tone hardens slightly and you see Monica stiffen in anticipation, "I believe that our students often reflect the values and attitudes of their teachers."

"Yes, Sir." Monica nods solemnly in agreement, turning to face you with her hands at her side and eyes lowered.

"Your disrespect for Ms. Naylor is a good example. What was it you called her, 'an old bat' and talking about 'her panties in a bunch,' is this the kind of role model our young students should be getting?"

"No. Sir." It's hard to tell if Monica is genuinely nervous as she tugs at her sundress, or just playing out a part in this game, but you find you don't really care. Your admiration for the young headmistress of this institution has grown immeasurably since first meeting her, and setting this flirt straight about showing respect for her betters feels exactly right.

"There's also the matter of you coming here to get the dirt on an incident that in no way concerns you, Miss Fulton." To her credit Monica doesn't pretend that that wasn't the main reason for her visit.

"I'm sorry Sir, I won't do any of this again." The words come out in a low husky whisper that barely hides the underlying excitement she seems to be feeling. To be fair, there is a sizable bulge growing in your khakis too, and the way Monica is staring at your crotch is only adding to the tightness.

"Sorry is not enough Miss Fulton," Monica gasps softly as you grip her by her upper arm and lead her to your desk. "Place your forearms on my desk; you wanted gossip about Miss Longmire's punishment, Miss Fulton? I'll give you a taste of what it was like." Without a word of protest, the pretty blonde teacher bends over your desk placing her elbows on the desk and lowering her palms until they pressed against the dark wood. Because of her fashionable wedges and the length of her toned legs, Monica's ass was slightly higher than Tamara's had been and you lick your lips in anticipation as you reach for the hem of her colorful dress.

You are not at all surprised to find her smooth, tanned, ass is barely covered by a black thong, and as you pull down the tiny garment, the musky aroma of woman in heat assaults your senses making your cock harden even more in your pants.

Miss Marshal's paddle is several steps away on the bookcase, you could just use your hand instead. That way you'd get to feel the soft skin warm as it turned bright red, or you could punish Miss Fulton another way altogether.

Unlike with Tamara, where you had to suppress the sexual excitement you felt, there is no doubt at all that you are going to fuck this pretty flirt good and hard before she moves from this position. Maybe you should just skip the spanking and get right to the main course.