Chapter 82 Classroom Punishment After Years
Will’s P.O.V.
When I see Iva standing in the classroom again after all these years, I feel an immense sense of satisfaction. I’ve been working on this for months. The idea to build this room came to me when I was missing our old moments.
Seeing her here makes me realise it’s the best idea I’ve ever had. Seeing my professor again, right where I first saw her… it refreshes everything and turns me on in a completely different way.
And here, it’s not just about us. Other couples can also fulfil their fantasies and role-play as teacher and student.
“So that’s why you asked me to dress up like a professor. God, Will, this surprise is beyond my imagination. This is the best.” She smiles widely at me, and I can see her eyes shining with joy.
Whenever I see Iva happy like this, and when I’m the reason, it satisfies my soul deep inside. Because filling my professor’s life with happiness is the only motive of my life, I can do anything for it. Her happiness brings me immense peace.
I rise from the desk and walk over to her. “You always say this after every surprise.” I chuckle.
“But this time, it really is the best. It’s… I don’t have words.” She looks around, her eyes turning teary with joy. “So many memories of us are attached to this room, Will.”
I pull her to me by the waist. “And now we’re going to relive them.”
“I can’t wait.” She grins.
“So are you ready for the classroom punishment again?” I lean closer to her face, my eyes fixed on her.
“More than anything else. I’ve yearned for them.” She whispers against my lips.
“God! I’m getting harder with just imagining you tied up in every corner here in different positions.” I rub my hardness against her, gripping her waist tighter.
“Oh… Master.. please do that.” She grinds herself against me harder.
“Have some patience, my slut.”
I look at her, breathing heavily. The sight of her in those glasses, trembling in the middle of our recreated classroom, is more intoxicating than any drink served at the bar downstairs.
Like always, I first remove her specs and place them safely in the drawer. Her breathing grows deeper with each passing second. I return to her and kiss her roughly, grabbing her. God! Every time I kiss her, it feels like I’m kissing her for the first time. It’s so amazing to kiss my wife, my professor, my bitch.
After kissing her, I don’t waste another second. I’m going to give her exactly what she wants, because today is our day. I grab her by the waist and hoist her up before putting her down firmly on the edge of the professor’s desk. I don’t ask, I command.
I hitch up her tight pencil skirt until it’s bunched around her hips, and then I strip her panties off with a ruthless tug.
"Spread them.” I move my eyes toward her thighs. “Show me exactly what I’ve been missing all evening while I was at the club."
She obeys instantly, opening her legs as she leans back on her elbows. I don't give her time to settle. I place my hand between her thighs, my fingers finding her slick and swollen. I begin to finger her vigorously, rubbing my thumb hard against her clit while my other hand works the buttons of her white shirt. I pop them open, baring her lace-covered breasts. After pulling down her bra, I squeeze them firmly.
As I pull her bra down even further, my eyes fall on the tattoo just below her breasts, the one she gifted me last year on this very date. She inked on her skin, “Will’s desperate bitch.” I always get turned on seeing it. Truly, she is my needy girl, and with that mark, I feel like I own her body.
With that thought alone, my fingers roll inside her tight hole, and her moans fill the empty classroom, driving me crazy.
"Master... I'm going to cum!" she gasps, tossing her head back.
"Cum, professor," I order her darkly as I increase the friction.
Her body arches, her toes under high heels curl against the desk, and with a shattered cry, she cums hard, her internal muscles pulsing violently against my hand. The sensation is incredible, but I don't pull away. I keep rubbing her sensitive core roughly, forcing her to endure the aftershocks of the climax. She squirts more onto the table and my hand, and a few drops fall on my clothes as well.
“Fuck, Iva, that’s so hot,” I groan, lost in her.
Watching her come on my hands is the hottest thing in my life. Every time I see it, I get so turned on that I want to fuck her even harder.
Overwhelmed by the intensity, Iva instinctively brings her legs together, her thighs trembling as she attempts to close herself off from the sensory overload.
My blood boils. I pull my hand back and deliver a light slap across her cheek, causing her eyes to widen. “Did I tell you to close your fucking legs, bitch? What are the rules?"
She tries to answer me, but I don’t let her speak. “Did you forget? In front of me, you don’t close your legs. Ever.”
I grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back so she has to look me in the eye. With my free hand, I force her legs apart again, pinning them wide.
Then, I bring my palm down on her soaking wet pussy, once, twice, five times in a row. The sound of my hand hitting her wet skin is making me harder.
"I'm sorry, Master!" she screams.
I don't want apologies yet. I slap her again on her face this time, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to remind her exactly who owns every inch of her.
I whisper against her lips, “You will be sorry, Professor. I'm going to punish you so hard that next time, you’ll think a thousand times before you even dream of closing your legs in front of me." Her breath gets deeper at my words.
I know how much she loves being punished by me, so I never miss a reason to make it happen. And moreover, today we’re in the classroom again after years, so punishment is a must, because the classroom is our thing.
“Undress yourself. Fast,” I command darkly, making her shiver.
She obeys instantly after stepping down the desk. I love her submissive nature.
I reach under the desk and pull out the rope. Now she’s standing there in nothing but her heels and my necklace around her neck.
“Sit on the table,” I command. She follows instantly once more, and I see her submissive gaze, ready to take whatever her master gives her.
I catch her wrists and bind them together with a tight knot. Then I lay her flat on the table and loop the rope around her thighs.
I pull the ends tight, tying them to the legs of the desk, stretching her legs wider and wider until she is completely exposed, pinned in a vulnerable V. She is totally at my mercy, right where she belongs.
"Now.” I stand back to admire my handiwork. "The lesson officially begins."
Punishing her in the classroom after so many years is like a dream come true, and I can’t wait to teach her a good lesson.