Spanked By Professor Mga Nobela at Kwento

"Explain." "He treats me with kid gloves and I hate it." I said. "he's always all, are you sure, we need to take it slow, yadda yadda yadda. And he probably thinks he's just being a gentleman and all. Well, I think he's still trying to convince himself I'm not fifteen or something." "Let me get this right. The professor is treating you nicely and you don't... Like it?" She asked carefully. "You want him to what, slap you around and call you his dirty slut?"

I gasped, heat flooding my body. “Focus,” he ordered, voice rough. Another smack. Then another. Each one sent sparks through me. The thrill of knowing someone could knock on the door at any moment made everything more intense. My heart raced. My panties were already soaked. “Alex…” I whimpered. “Professor,” he corrected, spanking me again, harder this time. “Say it.” “Professor,” I moaned, grinding against him. He flipped me onto my back on the couch in one smooth motion. In seconds, my skirt was pushed up and my panties were pulled to the side. He dropped to his knees between my legs, eyes dark with hunger.

“Come here. As punishment, apply the ointment on me.” I was stunned. Punishment? This was clearly a reward. I walked over on trembling legs. My fingers dipped into the cool ointment, and the moment I touched his solid chest, my brain short-circuited. It was firm, hot, and powerful. “Hiss!” He looked down, his eyes churning darkly. “Why are you shaking? You were pretty brave when you poured that coffee.” I was on the verge of tears. “Professor, that was an accident. I slipped…”

I hear charcoal scratching the paper, he’s already drawing. I take my underwear down, step out of them, and I’m completely naked in my professor’s studio. “Sit on the stool in the stage.” I climb the two steps, the wooden stool pressing under me. The spotlight is bright, exposing. I cross my arms over my breasts, dying of shame. “Drop your arms.” “Mateo…” “Professor Sandoval.” His tone is sharp. “In this studio, you call me Professor. And you follow instructions. Arms down.”

JAXON “I didn’t think you would come see me again,” Professor Storm’s voice was a hoarse slur. She was a wreck, a shadow of her old self. Slumped against the stonewall with silver-coated chains binding her wrists and ankles, she looked drained. “I have questions,” I said, drawing out a chair. She scoffed weakly. “And what makes you so sure that I have the answers that you want?” She’d better not test me. I was certainly not in a good mood, and if she pissed me off, I was more than ready to maim her.

“Face down. It’s time your sweet little ass got the spanking it deserves.” I could feel his erection as I settled across his lap. He made no attempt to hide how much this aroused him. “Hold still. I don’t want you flailing all over the place. Do you understand?” His tone was even, though his hands stroked my ass in calming circles. My pulse hammered with nerves. I couldn’t believe I was really here, about to be spanked by Professor Wilde. The absurdity of it made me flush. I was clearly insane—if not for letting him spank me, then definitely for consulting a fake oracle in my head.

What I saw made my cock harden instantly. Professor Jonathan Hale, respected, married, always so composed, had one of his students bent over his desk. Her skirt was shoved up around her waist, blouse open, breasts pressed against the wood. He was behind her, pants around his ankles, pounding into her with deep, powerful strokes. Her moans were desperate, muffled against her arm. “Fuck, Professor… harder,” she whimpered. He spanked her ass hard, the sound sharp. “Take it, Evelyn. Take your professor’s cock like the dirty little student you are.”

"Imagine if they were full. If all your classmates could see what a desperate little slut you are for your professor's cock." "Marcus," she whimpered, and I brought my palm down hard on her ass cheek. The crack echoed through the empty lecture hall. "That's Professor Bennett to you," I corrected, soothing the red mark with my palm before spanking her again on the other side. "In this classroom, you show respect." "Yes, Professor Bennett," she gasped. "I'm sorry, Professor Bennett." "Good girl." I unzipped my pants, freeing my aching cock. I was so hard it hurt, precum already leaking from the tip. I dragged the head through her wetness, coating myself, and she pushed back, trying to take me

“Take your Professor’s cock like the filthy sassy girl you are. All that attitude and your pussy is creaming all over me.” He pulled out suddenly, flipped me over, and bent me over the desk. He spanked my ass hard, the sharp sting making me cry out, before driving back into me from behind even deeper. “Fuck….yes…harder!” I whimpered, pushing back against him. “You love this, don’t you?” he taunted, fisting my hair and yanking my head back. “Getting fucked senseless by the professor you love to challenge. This tight little cunt was made for my dick.”

Mara opened her mouth to reply, but the door opened and everyone quieted down. The professor walked in, but his back was facing, so I didn't see his face at first. He had lean broad shoulders that filled out the white button-down sleeves rolled to his elbows. He had dark hair and a strong posture. A few girls whispered and giggled. Mara leaned over. “Damn, the new prof is fine.” I laughed under my breath. “You’re ridiculous.” Then he turned to face the class and my laugh died in my throat. Grey-blue eyes. The same angelic jaw. The same mouth that had been on me last night.