As she moved from dead-end job to dead-end job , Rachel had to admit that working life had not turned out as well as she had hoped. At 25, she returned to the college she'd dropped out of five years before. However, the first few weeks reminded her why she hadn't completed the courses the first time around.
However, one of the courses relied heavily on teamwork, so she hatched a little scheme. She could remember from her own high school and college days how the teenaged boys would fall over themselves to help a slightly older, scantily clad woman if there was even the slightest chance that they might get to see her tits at some point. She bought herself some tighter tops, shorter skirts, and figure-hugging jeans, and looked around the classroom to see which fellow student looked most vulnerable to her charms.
She quickly settled on Louis. He was muscular and somewhat handsome, but at half a head shorter than herself, he was not tall enough to be a big hit with the ladies. He was intelligent and hard-working, so he'd definitely be able to help her out. If she let him stare down her cleavage occasionally, or bent over to pick something up when he was behind her, she was sure he'd be happy to handle most of the work in their group projects.
"We have to hand it in next week! When were you thinking about at least BEGINNING? We're almost out of time."
"It's just so hard," she said, softly batting her eyelids at him. "I did my best, really! I'm sure that if you just showed me how to do it..."
"Oh no – that's what you said last week!" he said exasperated. "Are you just going to cruise along on my work? Do you want to earn your grade, or just leech off others?"
His guesses were getting a little too close for comfort, and she needed to distract him. She brushed her hair behind her ear, 'accidentally' causing one of the shoulder straps on her top to fall. "But you're so good at it," she said. "You've been a big help this project. You have no idea how grateful I am." Should she suck on her pencil as well, or would that be too much?
He stared at her. "That's your plan, isn't it? Flutter your eyes at me, show off your cleavage, and hope that I'd be horny enough to do all your work for you?"
She tried to seem offended at the suggestion, but it was clear he wasn't fooled anymore.
"That's enough! You've wasted weeks of my time, pretending that you're eventually going to do your share of the work, but I'm going to make sure you pay the price!" He grabbed her arm, pulled her to her feet, and started dragging her toward the bed.
She was shocked, and tried to free herself from his grasp – she was fine with a bit of teasing, but she wasn't actually going to sleep with someone for grades. If she'd willing to go to those extremes, she wouldn't have wasted her time on Louis; it would have been much quicker to target the teacher instead.
But instead of pulling her into bed with her, he sat down on the side of the bed, and she was tumbled over his lap. The breath was knocked out of her, and she wondered what in the world was going on. Her questions were answered when his hand smacked down on the seat of her jeans.
"Ouch! You can't do this!" she yelled, trying to stand up. His left hand held her in place while his right hand struck her bottom.
"You think you can wriggle your rear in my face and get me to do your work for you? Well, you're certainly going to wriggle it now!" His hand moved from cheek to cheek, every slap taking her breath away.
"Ow! You've made your point. You can let me up now!"
He chuckled. "We've barely begun, Rachel. By the time were done, you'll have a red, tear-streaked face, and a backside that's equally crimson!"
She winced as the sting in her tail grew stronger and stronger. "Please! I'm sorry about what I did! I didn't mean to take advantage of you."
"You're sorry, are you?" To her surprise and relief, he grabbed her waist and helped her to her feet. Her hands flew back to rub her stinging rear, and she vowed to never try this stunt again. But as he glared at up her, she received another shock. "Take down your jeans!"
"What?" she said, turning pale. Why did he want her to lower her trousers?
"If you're truly sorry about what you did, you'll lower your jeans and bend back over my knee for the rest of your punishment." She hesitated, and he continued: "If I have to take them down for you, you'll regret it."
Unable to think of a way out of the situation, and not wanting to see what happened if she made him madder, Rachel unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. Wriggling her hips, she lowered them to half-mast, revealing a small black thong.
He raised an eyebrow. "I was wondering if I was going to make you take your panties down as well, but it's not as that thing is going to provide much protection for your rear, is there?" He patted his knee, and she reluctantly lowered herself over his lap.
She cried out as his palm landed, shocked at how much more it stung without her jeans. She wriggled around, forcing him to place his left arm around her waist to hold his target in place.
"Are you learning your lesson, young lady? Are you going to stop leeching off others?" Every smack increased the fire in her poor rear end, and she was kicking her legs as tears streamed down her face.
"Ow! Yes, I'll be good! Please let me up!"
By the time he allowed her to get up, her backside was bright red. She felt like she'd been over his knee for hours.
"I'm going to make sure you stop leeching off my work," he told her. "Every week, you'll come here to my room to show me what you've done, and if I'm not satisfied with it..."
She nodded, eager to show that she would shape up and do her work from now on. This wasn't quite the study help she'd wanted from him, but she had a feeling that her grades would definitely improve.
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