It was only four swats into her punishment, and yet he was ordering her to stand. Surely he couldn’t have finished already? Not that it didn’t hurt: oh goodness, how it hurt. But when they’d discussed it earlier, in his office, she’d somehow imagined the punishment lasting longer.

She staggered upright, brushing down her oh-too-short nightdress before her hands reached back to rub, to cradle, to soothe her backside. Her knickers were on her desk: would he let her put them back on now?

He stood too, looming over her. “Let’s get the nudity thing dealt with, shall we?”

“Sir?”

“Did I tell you that I would punish you on the bare?”

Reluctantly: “Yes, professor.”

“And did you agree to that condition?”

Blushing, she confirmed her consent. He’d been very clear: when he arrived at her dorm room, she would be wearing her nightie. And only her nightie. He’d already informed her that the knickers would prove to be a costly mistake.

“And yet you persist in trying to cover yourself at every opportunity.”

“It’s embarrassing, sir.”

“Being punished isn’t meant to be anything but embarrassing, Elisabeth. And you agreed, did you not, that you wanted me to punish you like this? To spank you.”

Blushing again: “I did, sir.”

“So why is it that every time I try to bring down my hand, I find you reaching back to pull down your nightie?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I won’t do it again.”

“Indeed not.” He walked around her. “I’m not used to my students disobeying me. But this particular matter should be remarkably easy to stop.”

“Sir?”

“Take off your nightdress…”

–

I can rather guess where this might go next, but sadly that was as far as my dream went last night. Now, I need to find a girl to spank. And to strip, for that matter.