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I clear my throat and speak, hoping it will distract me. “Tell me, Eva. Did you have similar punishments at your last school?”
Her brow furrows as she glances at me over her shoulder. “Of course not. It was a normal school.”
“Surely, teachers punished pupils for bad behavior.”
“Never me. I’ve never been punished until I came to this hellhole.”
Her sincerity is refreshing, but it irritates me that every time she speaks her mind, it only makes me want her more. “Is that right? I find it hard to believe.”
She turns her attention back to the spot she’s cleaning. “I don’t care if you believe it or not. It’s the truth. Something you have no regard for.”
I’ve never allowed a pupil to speak to me the way she does, and yet, no part of me wants to punish her for it. I want my sick and twisted way with her.
“You missed a spot,” I say, pointing to a small splatter of blood in an area she’d moved away from.
Her eyes narrow, and then she crawls over to it, facing me, huffing under her breath. I stifle a groan at the sight of her hard nipples, pointing through the almost sheer fabric.
“What was that?” I snap.
She shakes her head, smiling innocently. “Nothing, sir–I mean, Oak.”
I grip hold of the pew beneath me so hard it’s a wonder the wood doesn’t bow and snap as she turns her full attention back to the job at hand. The next fifteen minutes are sheer torture as I save every image of her on all fours in my mental picture gallery, holding them in my memories so I can work out my frustration straight after we’re finished.
With five minutes to spare, Eva stands and announces, “Finished.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Have you learned your lesson yet?” I ask.
Eva glares at me. “Not sure what lesson it is I’m supposed to be learning. I’ve told you the truth, and it’s you that isn’t accepting it.”
I flex my fingers, wondering why she doesn’t tell a little white lie and be done with it.
Is she that incapable of bending the truth?
“Come here,” I order, glancing briefly at the clock on the wall. If I’m too long, Eva will be very late for her next class, as she needs to get dressed. “Over my knee, Eva.”
Her body turns rigid. “Sorry?”
I flex my fingers to stop myself from grabbing her and forcing her over it. “I said, over my knee.”
“I heard you, but that—”
I grab her wrist hard and yank her across my lap, groaning as I feel her wriggle against the press of my erection. The scent of her so close makes it impossible to control myself as I lightly lift the hem of her nightgown.
She fights against me. “Oak, I don’t have any panties on.”
“Good,” I growl, lifting the hem right to her hips.
She glances at me from over her shoulder, brow furrowed. “Where is the ruler?” She asks, her voice so quiet.
The dark, monstrous part of me delights in the sound. “I forgot it, so my hand will have to do.”
Her eyes widen. “Isn’t that a little—”
My hand lands on her right cheek before she can finish the question.
Eva recoils, squealing softly. The sensation of my hand striking her is no doubt different from the wooden ruler I’ve used on her for the past two weeks. It’s impossible to deny the need to caress her ass cheeks in my hands, stroking the skin after each spank.
Eva’s thighs tremble as her arousal glistens between her thick thighs. It takes all my willpower not to touch her there, not to bury my face in her pretty little cunt.
