Spanking Smut sneak peek - Emily and the Professor

Spanking Smut is a collection of two short stories and one longer story. The stories involve spanking and some edgy stuff. Just for you, my blog friends, is the first story. Hope you like it!

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Emily and the Professor by Jennie May

He was working at his desk when she said it. It slipped out like hot butter on a skillet. She closed her mouth quickly as if she could trap the word in, but she was too late. He heard her.
“Emily!” he bellowed.
She scooted from the tiny kitchen and into the room where he sat. He was grading papers, she knew. He looked up at her and frowned. “What was that?”
“Um…” she didn’t know what to say. She could repeat the offensive word, but she was afraid that would get her into further trouble. She knew she couldn’t lie. That would be a disaster. Could she hope that he wasn’t sure what he had heard escape her lips? “What’s that dear?”
His eyebrows went up, and she knew she wasn’t going to be getting out of this easily.
“We talked about this, Emily,” he told her sternly. It was true. They had first had this conversation when Emily had been a freshman in his first section of French 201. He did not tolerate swearing of any kind in his classes. This was a rule that modern college students found hard to obey. It helped a little that his class wasn’t run in English.
Thomas was a professor with an old-fashioned attitude. He treated his students like they were middle school children rather than young adults. He expected respect and obedience, and he wouldn’t hesitate to throw them out of class if they didn’t show appropriate submission.
That was how he and Emily had first begun a personal relationship. Offered the choice between being tossed out of a class she needed or having to submit to his punishment, she chose the latter. Five years later, they were living together in his comfortable apartment several blocks off campus.
“Come over here so I can slap your face,” he told her gruffly.
Emily swallowed hard but did as she was told. There were times when she wasn’t sure why she participated in this bizarre paternal relationship with him, but there were also times when she knew exactly why she did.
She went to his desk and bent down so that he would not have to move away from his grading in order to punish her. The slap was firm, and it stung. He never slapped her hard enough to whip her head around, just hard enough to demonstrate that he would not be putting up with any nonsense from her.
“That language is unladylike, disgusting and beneath you,” he told her.
“Yes sir,” she answered.
He suddenly looked up at her. “Did you get that paper back from Dr. Johns today?”
She twisted her mouth. “Yes.”
“Well?”
She went to her book bag and found the paper. She was pursuing a Master’s Degree, and Thomas was paying for it. A condition of this kindness was that he had full access to anything related to her academic progress. She handed the paper over to him and then folded her hands to wait for his reaction.
“Gave you a C, did he?” Thomas said with disapproval. He thumbed through the paper. “Well I can’t say I blame him, Emily. There are several careless mistakes here.”
“I know,” she admitted. “I didn’t focus.”
“You know you’ll be punished,” he told her.
“I know,” she said again quietly.
He stood and regarded her with an authoritative stare. “We can’t have you performing beneath your potential now, can we?”
She shook her head. Her hands remained clasped in front of her, but her fingers began to itch with an anxious anticipation of what was to come.
He took off his jacket then and snaked an arm around her body to let his hand rest on her bottom. She breathed in the scent of him, an aroma of peppermint and high quality coffee.
“Where do I punish you, darling?”
She squirmed. She knew he asked her these questions to make her feel embarrassed and small. “My bottom,” she answered.
“In complete sentences please,” he said.
“You punish my bottom, sir.” She was blushing furiously, which made her even more embarrassed.
“How do I punish your bottom, love?”
She closed her eyes. His hand rubbed her bottom harder now and slipped into her crack, pushing the fabric of her skirt along with it. “You spank my bottom.”
“And?”
She grimaced. “You put your finger in… in my bottom.”
He patted her warmly. “That’s right, love. I put other things in there, too. And today I think we’ll have your extra punishment. Do you think you deserve that, Emily?”
She felt her knees go weak. She wanted to protest, to scream. Instead she gave him the answer she knew he wanted to hear. “Yes, sir.”
He took her by the hand. “Come on then. Let’s go punish your bottom for that terrible paper.”
She followed along behind him, the soles of her shoes shuffling on the hard wood floors. He led her into the bedroom they shared.
“Go and get your box, please,” he instructed. He seated himself on the bed and watched her.
She went to her dresser drawer and pulled out a box he had given her at the beginning of their relationship. It was a beautifully crafted wooden case the size of a shoebox. It had been originally meant for jewelry or keepsakes, Emily thought. It was engraved “Emily’s Punishment Chest.”
She handed the box to him and then stood in front of him, waiting. She folded her hands in front of her and lowered her eyes to the floor. She was keenly aware of the room around her and the sensations in it. She could hear the faint murmur of the dishwasher running in the kitchen, and she could hear the breeze blowing outside. She felt her feet rooted toward the floors and her arms seemed to pull from heavily from her shoulders.
Thomas placed the box on the bed next to him and then put his hands on Emily’s hips. He shook his head, his face showing disappointment. “I expect better from you,” he told her.
“Yes sir,” she answered.
“Over my knee then,” he said. He tugged on one arm, and Emily allowed herself to be draped across his lap. Her upper body was supported by the firm mattress that Thomas preferred, and her legs dangled.
Thomas was seventeen years older than Emily, but he was a disciplined man. He kept himself strong morally and physically. He was easily able to punish his young girlfriend. He rubbed her skirt, pushing it up toward her back. Then he fingered the outline of her black panties.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to hurt your bottom tonight, Emily,” he told her.
She didn’t answer. She felt the soft duvet cover under her arms and her face, and she waited.
Thomas slowly pulled her panties down to her thighs and gave her bottom several affectionate pats. “This bottom was made to be punished,” he told her. He grabbed fistfuls of cheek and squeezed her flesh roughly in his fists until she felt sore. He pulled the cheeks apart to inspect the area between them. He pushed at her bottom hole with his index finger, bringing a soft cry from Emily. He pushed her cheeks back so that he could run his fingers over the smooth skin of her upper thighs.
Emily held herself in place during this humiliating inspection. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the way his fingers felt on her bare skin as they probed and played with her bottom. In spite of her anxiety and in spite of her fear, Emily’s desire was growing.
Thomas began the spanking with explosive swats that rang out in the small bedroom. Emily could feel the heat immediately, and she grabbed the duvet cover hard in her fists.
“We’ll see if sitting in class on a sore bottom will improve your focus,” Thomas said, whaling away on her tender backside.
The tears came fast, as they always did. It hurt terribly when Thomas spanked her, and she knew that her bottom would be swollen and sore when he was finished. After just a few minutes of forceful spanks she was babbling incoherently about being a good girl and always being focused on her schoolwork.
He stopped the spanking for a moment and listened to her cry. “I’m glad that my discipline is getting through to you.” He reached into Emily’s box and picked up a wooden hairbrush. When he tapped Emily’s bottom with it, her tears increased.
“I’m going to make your bottom sore and sorry,” he told her with a tap tap tap of the heavy brush. “I hope you will think about this experience when you are working on your next paper.”
The hairbrush was a dreadful weapon, and Emily was crying out each time it fell on her bottom. Thomas was focusing his efforts on one strip of tender bottom at the base of her cheeks. Emily was soon bucking and bouncing over his lap.
“I’m going to make sure you don’t sit for a week,” he told her. He pushed one hand hard onto her back and used the hairbrush to bruise her bottom with the other hand.
When he finally put the hairbrush down, Emily was a sobbing mess. He didn’t bother talking to her then. He simply placed his hand between her legs and grabbed her by the sex in order to change her position. He lifted her up off the bed and placed her over just one thigh. He had her on her toes then, bent sharply at the waist so that he could easily access her upper thighs.
These he used his hands to spank with gusto, and Emily bawled her way through the next several minutes. When he was finished he told her to get up so that he could have a look at her.
Emily stood in front of him still sobbing. Her skirt fell back over her bottom, and even that felt like an assault.
“Your bottom is nice and red,” he told her gleefully. “That should keep you on track for awhile. Now it’s time for you to lie on your stomach so that I can administer the rest of your punishment.
Emily continued to cry as she climbed onto the bed and dropped to her stomach. Her panties had fallen to her knees. Thomas took her by the hips and lifted her so that he could place a pillow under her pelvis. Then he lifted her skirt so that he could see her bare, hot bottom.
He opened her box again then and took out a large dildo. “I’m going to have to punish you hard with your dildo,” he told her.
She wanted to beg him not to use the horrible object, but she knew it was no use. She cried into the duvet cover.
He was separating her cheeks. “Try to relax now, or this is going to hurt you even more. I’m going to use just a very small amount of lube because you are being punished.”
Emily tried taking deep breaths, but she kept choking on her tears. She felt his fingers invading her bottom hole, and then she felt the dildo push its way in. She tried to relax, but her bottom was stretched and full. She moaned.
“This is what happens when you don’t do your best,” he told her. He thrust the dildo all the way in, and Emily gasped.
“I’m afraid you have to have your little bottom fucked hard with your dildo tonight, Emily.” Thomas told her.
Emily’s tears left a wet mess on the bedding under her face. She felt Thomas take hold of the intrusive dildo and begin to pump it furiously in and out of her bottom hole.
This stretching pain was different than the stinging pain she still felt from her spanking. She tried to stay relaxed, knowing that clenching her cheeks would only make it worse. Thomas pounded her hard as she cried into the bed.
When he was finished, Thomas pulled the dildo out quickly. “You got your bottom fucked,” he announced. He smacked her sore cheeks rapidly, and Emily bucked.
“You stay here and think about what you’ve done,” he told her. With that, he left the room.
Emily was left with her bottom sore inside and out. As her tears began to slow, she pushed one hand down beneath her stomach. She found her clit and began to rub.
She knew that outside, in another part of the apartment, Thomas was on the phone with her professor telling him to change her grade to an A.

Spanking Smut Volume One

The Spanking Smut is here!

Spanking Smut volume one is now available at Lulu. You can also get it as a download.

The book is packed with spanking and other erotic activities. This one goes further than traditional domestic discipline. The stories in this book involve anal sex, spanking in front of witnesses, pussy spanking and some forceful sex. If you are a spanking traditionalist, this is not the book for you. But if some of your fantasies walk the edgy line, you will enjoy these stories.

I hope you enjoy Spanking Smut! Volume two is on the way.

Depression

Like many of my spanko friends, I suffer from depression. There are times when I just need to remove myself from the world for awhile.

What do you think? Are kinky folk more likely to have these kinds of issues... or maybe it's just kinky folk who like to write about their kinks?

I haven't seen the same thing in tops, interestingly. It's subs and brats who have the mental illness. Hm...

Anyway, I'm still here. I'm getting back to work on some fiction. I just gotta pull myself up outta the great dark hole.

Thanks for sticking with me.