*SMACK!* the first slap fell and Laura cried out as her eyes watered instantly. *SMACK!* another, just as hard ; she clenched her teeth, moaning painfully as the next ten fell in a quick succession over her short skirt. Way too short, she thought as she lay across her teacher’s lap, the top of her stockings already peeking out from under the blue tartan fabric.
Laura had always been tall, and even now in college she was among the tallests in her class. That had gotten her some attention over the years but never had she regretted more than that morning as she was taking her final in a crowded room and thought herself safe from the eyes of her teachers.
She had thought she would get away with a little help sheet, just a few formulae to help her out. She had thought she wouldn’t be noticed. She had thought she would get away with it. She had thought wrong, of course.
As she was giving her work back, her teacher had taken Laura aside and informed her he would be failing her, and that she could try her luck again the next year. Her head bowed, blushing, tears in her eyes, she had begged quietly, tried to explain herself, promised she would do anything, but it was all to no avail.
Laura had decided to wait in the corridor until all the other students had gone, and had gone back inside to try her luck on last time. Her teacher and the other two that were helping him that day stared at her when she entered the room and walked to them. She couldn’t have been more ashamed —or so she thought at the time.
*SMACK!* the slaps continued to rain down on her barely covered bottom, pain and heat building up rapidly as her teacher scolded her for daring to cheat, having the nerve to ask for leniency, her skimpy outfit, everything. She cried more out of shame than out of pain, the thought of disappointing him even worse than simply failing her class.
He got her skirt up with a quick pull and instantly resumed her punishment, her little light-pink thong offering no protection at all. The two other teachers still hadn’t left the room, and were going to great lengths to go in every row and check that no student had forgotten a pen or an article of clothing, or anything really. She could feel their gaze on her long legs, her red, burning bottom. And still the spanking went on, harsh and unforgiving.
Her thong went down and so did the tears on her face, abundant now. She could feel the bulge in her teacher’s trousers as he continued berating her and slamming his palm on her already crimson behind. She couldn’t even understand what he was saying anymore, the pain overwhelming all her other senses. She moaned, loudly, she cried, she begged. Spank after hard spank rained down on her slender cheeks in a continuous shower, leaving not a single spot unblemished. It seemed to her it went on forever until, at last, he stopped.
He got her up from over his knees and pointed to the desk.
“I’ll give you one hour to retake the exam,” he said, and she nodded, sniffling and trying to wipe the tears off her cheeks. She didn’t dare rubbing her bottom for fear he would take her over his lap again.
“However,” he continued, “you will take it standing at that desk, with your skirt up and your…” he shook his head, “…thong down.”
She blushed. “But sir…”
“I’m not done!” he cut her, and got up, taking his belt of with metallic click, “You will be getting sixty strokes of the belt, one for every minute I give you.”
Laura felt a shiver go up her spine and her hand flew to her bottom. “I…”
“Last chance, miss Spencer. You can walk away and fail your exam, it’s all the same to me.”
Head bowed, she walked over to the desk. He got a fresh paper out of his briefcase and put it down before her. She assumed the position: bent over the desk, a pen in her hand and her throbbing bottom up. She could barely see the paper through the tears.
Her teacher got behind her, his belt held in a loop in his hand. He raised his arm high.
“Your test begins… Now!”