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Cool air swirls over my ass, which is still warmer than usual from last Saturday’s spanking. My breaths turn shallow as I realize that he could do anything to me while I’m like this, including using a ruler.
“Are you sure you don’t want a blowjob this morning, sir?” My words tremble.
The part of me who came here powered by righteous indignation cringes, but the traitor between my leg twitches and pulses in anticipation for his fingers.
“All in good time.” He runs a warm palm over one buttock, making me moan. “I know you don’t have lectures until ten on Friday.”
My chest fills with warmth at the thought that he’s looked up my schedule on the University intranet. “How are my bruises?”
“They’re healing nicely,” he says, his voice thick. “However, I see a few bare patches that need color.”
“You can’t add to them,” I blurt. “Not when we’ve agreed that we’re both at fault.”
“I admitted nothing.” He curls his fingers, grabbing a handful of my ass.
I hiss through my teeth at the sting. As soon as the pain registers, he slips a finger between my slick folds.
“Oooh,” I moan.
“See how wet you are for me.” He circles my clit with deliciously slow strokes that make my thighs tremble. “You enjoy this just as much as I do.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and clamp my jaw because any words of denial would be a lie.
Something cold and wet lands with a squelch on my buttock, making me flinch. “What’s that?”
“Arnica gel.” He rubs it into my ass cheek. “Don’t you remember it from after the chocolate fondue?”
I bite down on my bottom lip, trying not to wriggle. “You mean when I licked melted chocolate off your dick?”
His belly shakes with a silent laugh. “I ran out of bananas.”
“Very funny,” I mutter despite my smile. “Toward the end, I was so sleepy that not even the chocolate could keep me awake.”
“Mmm…” His finger makes an extra slow circle around my clit, making my thighs tremble. “I’ll endeavor to cram in as much as I can before you expire.”
I’m about to ask what he means, when a knock sounds on the door, making us both stiffen.
“Get under the desk,” he growls, and wheels his chair back.
He doesn’t need to tell me twice. I scamper beneath his desk and position myself on my hands and knees. Fortunately, there’s a modesty panel stretching close to the floor, so the average person won’t notice there’s an entire human being down there unless they bent down and searched.
Professor Segul stares down at me as though checking that I’m in place before rolling back his desk chair and saying, “Enter.”
He sounds so clear and confident that I can’t help but wonder if he’s had other students down there before. Because no one could be so composed at the prospect of being caught.
Footsteps creak across the parquet floor. From the weight of them, I guess that his visitor is a man.
“Professor Segul,” says an equally as posh male voice. “I wonder if you could do me a favor.”
I clench my teeth, sending the interloper go-away vibes.
“What is it?” the professor asks, his voice guarded.
“There’s a complication down at the hospital.” The newcomer inhales a deep breath. “Professor Eckhart needs another procedure—”
“Is it serious?” he asks.
“Possibly,” the other man says with a long sigh. I suspect it’s Dr. Xander, the economics lecturer.
