Page 33 of Rolling with my Professors

I slip off my panties and stuff them into my backpack while waiting for a response.

Daddy: Get your naughty little ass inside, so I can spank it

Me: And if I don’t?

Daddy: I’ll drag you out of that car, throw you over my shoulder, and make you sit at your desk watching everyone else in the sex club have fun.

My desk? I’m intrigued. I’m out the car in a heartbeat.

To my surprise, the doorman hands me a small piece of paper. A hall pass with my name, a room number, and ‘don’t be late’.

Skating through the club, my destination becomes clear even before I confirm the room number. The curtains are open, allowing me and everyone else to see in from the main part of the club.

A single student desk sits in the middle of the room and a dry-erase board has been hung on the wall.

I’m so excited, my wetness is slicking my thighs.

Where are my guys?

The door is open. I skate in, circling the desk that’s similar to what I had in high school—a wooden top and metal legs. I run my fingers over the cool surface, a shiver of anticipation racing up my spine.

The dry-erase board is blank, but there are markers held to it with magnets. I pick the red one, pop the cap, and write ‘Mila was here’ in big, bold letters. The squeak of the marker against the board makes me giggle.

I turn back to the desk, wondering what they have planned. My backpack suddenly feels heavy with possibilities. I unzip it, pulling out the ruler and setting it on the desk.

The vibrators follow, their soft hum filling the room as I turn them on briefly to make sure they’re charged. Should have checked that at home. I set them next to the ruler.

I’m just about to pull out my sleepshirt when I hear rustling behind me. I spin around, my skirt flaring out. Rutherford leans against the doorway, his eyes dark with desire.

He makes a twirling motion with his finger, prompting me to do a few more skating moves.

“Looks like someone’s been defacing school property,” he says, pushing off the doorframe.

Slowly stalking my direction, he bypasses me, as if he can’t tell how ready I am for him.

Lifting the eraser, he extends it. “Make this right.”

I tilt my head and bite my lip. Then with a wink, I take the eraser and clean the board.

His masculine scent amplifies my excitement. He lifts my skirt. “How dare you come to school without panties. You know what that does to the boys.”

“I have them. They’re in my backpack.”

A sharp crack fills the air and my bottom stings as the ruler connects with my ass. When did he grab it? The eraser falls from my hands as I brace myself against the board. I barely catch myself with the brake on my skate.

“That’s what you get for sassing me.”

Before I can catch my breath, he’s kneeling behind me, his hands sliding up my thighs. He reaches my wetness and teases his finger back and forth.

“You have such beautiful legs,” he says, his voice low and husky. “I could spend hours worshiping them.”

I moan as his fingers tease my curls.

“You like it when I touch you like this, don’t you, Little One?”

“Y-yes,” I stammer, my breath coming in short gasps.

“Yes, what?” he prompts, his hands continuing the teasing.

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