Chapter 2

“You’re late,” Ms. Ellerby says.

Hearing my voice has a calming effect on Penny because she knows it’s me. I don’t know what to expect other than reasonable discipline for making online pornography. The teacher rubs around Penny’s breasts, then around the nipples which are turning red from the clamps. Then the teacher starts slapping the undersides of the boobs. Something about a feminine black hand on milk white boobs is so enticing.

I know that Penny has never had her breasts slapped before because she tells me everything. Breast slapping was never in her repertoire of limited sexual experiences. She winces and tenses with each impact. Her nipples get harder and the surrounding flesh turns red.

Ms. Ellerby tells her to stand. The teacher sits on that stool and has Penny bend over her lap. I know what’s going to happen and it’s something we’ve never done before. A part of me is scared, another part of me is jealous that I wasn’t the first to explore this with Penny.

The blows come fast and in quick succession. Penny’s white bottom is being spanked, her body trembles at what the art teacher is doing, her toes curling into little balls. In between spanks, Ms. Ellerby’s hand would go between Penny’s legs and do something, inserting fingers I’m guessing, making wet noises in the process.

What’s interesting is that Ms. Ellerby doesn’t appear to have an emotional stake in having a naked student on her lap. No excitement, no sense of guilt. It makes me wonder if she’s done this before, and with students, and if she’s going to masturbate thinking of this when she’s alone and won’t be judged by anyone.

Despite the unconventional nature of the punishment, I recognize the panting noises that Penny makes and jealousy lingers in my heart. I know it’s wrong on so many levels, but I wanted to be the one doing this to her, to explore spanking and breast slaps and clampings with her. And maybe we’ll try it later. How ironic that we learned this from a teacher.

When it’s over, Penny is told to stand, then she’s asked if she understands why this happened. She nods and acknowledges her mistake. After the nipple clamps are removed, Penny is told to gather her things and leave.

Ms. Ellerby keeps her wet hand open and walks to the sink to wash. That’s when I get a good look at Penny as she starts to dress. A red bottom, swollen pink nipples, and the undersides of her breasts are red. Most striking of all, a trail of fluids run down her legs. She accidentally had an orgasm, or maybe that was done on purpose, by the hands of the disciplining teacher.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

Penny nods. “Yeah… umm… I’m fine.”

No she’s not. She just had the orgasm of the century, and she did that without me.

2. Theology of the Body

Because I’m new, they allow me to watch and I don’t have to participate yet. It’s a night class dubbed “Theology of the Body” which is a course you won’t find listed anywhere. It’s taught by Ms. Delillo and that’s mortifying because she was my history professor last year.

There are five other girls here and I find myself thanking God that I don’t know any of them. One is an athlete on the rowing team and the others are your run-of-the-mill students on campus. There’s a subtle, erotic tension in the room because we all know what’s going to happen.

One of the girls talks about her experience yesterday, cumming in the locker room shower. It’s the girl from the rowing team — Kaitlin — and she finds comfort getting these thoughts off her chest. The dressing and undressing. The other girls. The locker room nudity. It’s overwhelming to her and she hates these desires, but she talks about how she had an orgasm in the shower stall. She fingered her pussy thinking about the teammates she saw walking around nude after practice, laughing and letting loose to release the tension of a hard workout.

When she finishes her story she breathes a sigh of relief. She smiles, taking refuge in being amongst like-minded people, but she avoids looking at me because she doesn’t trust me yet, or maybe because she’s embarrassed revealing this to a newbie.

“Thank you so much for sharing,” Ms. Delillo says. “Everyone has different triggers, that’s why it’s so important that we invest time to understand what makes our bodies tick.”

When the teacher talks about ‘what makes our bodies tick,’ she means that in the literal sense. Kaitlin stands in front of her desk and Ms. Delillo gets several sheets of paper towels for her. Everyone in the room seems to know what’s coming, there’s nervous tension, but also excitement in the air. Everyone is seated with their eyes on the student.

Kaitlin unbuttons her jean pants and slides everything down in one movement. Just down to her ankles. Her clean shaven pussy is exposed. She’s got the legs of a fitness enthusiast, that’s what rowing gets you. The teacher puts the paper towels on the desk and I have a pretty good idea what they’re for.

Her butt presses against the desk as she leans back then she rubs herself while we watch. It’s clear that this is a normal occurrence here, the teacher and other students don’t seem shocked, if anything they seem enamored, almost rooting for Kaitlin to have an earth shaking orgasm.

When it happens, it happens fast, and she grabs the paper towels and squeezes them into a messy ball, pressing it against her pussy while her other hand keeps rubbing the clit in a furious motion. She breathes hard, panting, and she keeps her eyes focused down below to make sure she doesn’t make a mess on the floor.

Kaitlin takes a moment to compose herself and wipes around her pussy with paper towels that seem to get wetter and wetter. If that were me, I’d be so mortified that I’d be running out of here, but that seems to be the whole point. To conquer one’s fear of the body and to share.

“That looks like quite the relief,” Ms. Delillo says. “What were you thinking about, dear?”

“Being in that locker room. I imagined my teammates serving me, especially the captain, like everyone on their knees. My back against the tile wall. It was nice. It made me feel appreciated for my contributions.”

“Wanting to be appreciated is a dream that’s all too common. Cunnilingus is one way of showing that appreciation.”

Kaitlin blushes. When she finishes wiping she pulls the paper towels away and everyone gets a view of her wiped pussy with a clitoris that’s still erect. She’s embarrassed, but she reveals what she’s done and the power she’s gotten. The teacher claps first and everyone else follows. Kaitlin tucks her hair behind her ears and fixes her jean pants, still blushing.

It’s our first time meeting. Ms. Parker was able to fit me into her schedule mid-morning and she’s a professor I’ll have next year for economics, which needless to say, makes this an awkward affair on my part. I honestly don’t know what to expect from her.

We’re sitting in her office, she’s wearing thick framed glasses with a bob cut, and a flower-patterned dress that goes to her ankles. Her desk is cluttered with stacks of papers and books and her laptop is open. When she said she was able to squeeze me into her schedule, she meant it. The woman is busy and she’s ready to finish this fast.

“I’ve been told about you,” Ms. Parker says. “The webcam thingy. I’ll spare you the lecture because you’ve probably heard a million things by now. Plus the stress of disciplinary action, I’m sure that’s taken its toll.”

“Thanks for being reasonable, I appreciate that. Yeah, it’s been the craziest week of my life. And I’ve learned my lesson.”

“For sure. It was something we wanted to explore and we were totally wrong to do that. Our bodies aren’t things meant to be exploited.”

“I also hear you’re going to present a report to the Dean about updating school policy.”

Ms. Parker gazes at me through her thick framed glasses. I know that expression, those large eyes, the parted lips, she wants something. She’s not trying to make my life miserable, if anything we’re on the same page and she wants the same outcome.

“That’s correct,” I say. “We… umm… I’ve learned some interesting things which will be included in my report to the Dean.”

“It beats getting expelled from school. That’s for sure.”

She takes a long pause. “Well, that brings us to the main point. Your disciplinary action. Sit there and follow my lead. I have class soon, this will be fast, I promise.”

Ms. Parker is the kind of woman who’s a wallflower for dance events, only to break loose with the worst dance moves you’ve ever seen, and have the best time while doing it. I think that’s why I like her so much. We can relate to each other.

She lifts her butt from the chair and reaches up her dress to slide her panties down. Then she steps out of her panties, placing it on the desk in a crumpled mess. She’s sitting down again and keeps her eyes focused on her hair pussy as she strokes her clitoris. In between rubs she pushes two fingers inside then goes back to rubbing. She was wet before this even started, the anticipation had been building inside knowing she was going to do this for me.

This isn’t going to take long. I can tell by her easy-to-read body language. As it turns out, women like Ms. Parker are deceptively orgasmic, meaning they’re so secretly horny that they can cum on-demand despite looking harmless, adhering to a tight work schedule. Would who have thought? I’m so flummoxed by what this booksmart professor is doing that I can only watch in complete awe of how her pussy is responding. Her pubic hairs are now covered in fluids.

Before she cums, she grabs the mug on the desk and drinks what little coffee is leftover, and she holds the empty mug below her pussy. In a crouching position and holding her dress up, she keeps fingering until she leaks into the mug like a runny faucet, her face grimacing with pleasure, her eyes squinting behind those thick framed glasses.

She relaxes. Then she sits down to take a breath, putting the mug on the desk, wiping her fingers and pussy with a tissue. Then she holds the mug and looks at me.

“I have broad discretion on your punishment,” she says. “It’s your choice, you can always refuse. But having a taste is fine. Then you’re free to go.”

Ms. Parker brings the mug to her lips and takes a drink from the small pool that’s in the mug. She sips it slowly as if it’s fine wine from another century. Her eyes remain focused on me as she tilts her head back and drinks.