This scene takes place on a small, private University campus.
All characters are above the age of 18.
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"William!"
Somewhere in my mind, the needle of a record player rips across an album.
"I would like to see you in my office at the end of today's schedule."
The words are a command, not a request; a matter-of-fact statement not to be challenged.
"Is that clear?"
My whole world suddenly comes to an abrupt, jarring halt. A sound of giggling from somewhere across the room. I can feel my face turning red even as every vein in my body turns cold.
"Yes Ms. M."
I spend the next three hours in lecture halls, time frozen with panic, oblivious to the subjects of the speakers, anguishing over my now inescapable fate; How do I explain this to my parents? What if this prevents me from getting into another school? Was there a law broken by my behavior? Only a few weeks into my first semester at the University and I'm now about to be kicked out for masturbating during calculus.
I was so certain I was being careful and clever. By the end of the first week, I began taking the seat in the back corner of the small classroom to hide my arousal; four rows deep, no one beside me, the side of the room she seemed to prefer when using the black board. By the second week I began wearing an oversized hooded sweatshirt, after it became clear I could no longer keep myself from massaging my erection. I could easily slide one arm from the sleeve and attend the throbbing distraction growing in my pants; while the other arm rested on the desk, pencil in hand.
How could she possibly know what I was doing? My eyes and attention were groping her the entire period; watching every movement, every glance, every change in the shape of her divine body. Not once was there any hint or signal of discovery, nor any awareness of my dirty secret.
As I enter the corridor and begin to make my way to the faculty offices, I go back in my mind to the moment that has brought me to this exact point in time & space.
As usual, her long dark silky hair is pulled back tight, tied up in a low twisted ballet knot with a careless finish, her intense green eyes looking out over black framed glasses.
From every angle, there are more curves on her body than would be found in the textbook that sits in front of me on my desk.
Her firm ripe breasts appear to defy gravity; pointing straight out, perfectly round, level and true. Covered by a thin, black, form fitted cashmere sweater that clings tight to every curve of her torso. The curve starting at the round arc of her breasts, gradually sloping down to her thin waist then rising again sharply over plumb hips; A polynomial function of which would give the buried corpse of Leibniz himself an erection.
Her tight, tartan mini skirt, black with various shades of gray, tappers down off the hips to end mid-thigh, barely covering the lace welt at the top of her black silk stockings; sliding up just enough when she reaches out to erase equations from the board or sits with her legs crossed at her desk. These stockings run smoothly down long slim legs, accentuating toned thighs and calves, and slip into shiny black leather heels.
And oh that glorious ass! The fabric of the skirt nothing more than a thin layer of lycra stretched tightly over a perfectly shaped, well rounded flank; the rear seam just below the seat, pinched tight to pull in and trace the twin curves under those magnificent and succulent cheeks. The tailor must of sewed the skirt to her body this morning.
And it was this wonderful landscape of non-Euclidean geometry I was so deep in contemplation, when, hard throbbing cock in hand, she suddenly turned to the class, and announced the appointment I have just now arrived at.
I knock on the door.
"Yes, please come in"
Avoiding a proper greeting, I enter the room and immediately move to take a seat in one of the two chairs set at a perfect 45° angle in front of her desk; only to be quickly interrupted.
"I do not recall instructing you to take a seat."
Her voice expresses nothing less than a complete confidence in her authority. I straighten up, facing forward toward the desk. I can feel her eyes piercing through me, but dare not look.
"Do you see the tape on the floor in front of you?"
I arch my neck forward, squinting my eyes to read the tiny written message.
"Read it to me aloud."
It reads.
"Undisciplined little boys stand Here."
For the first time my eyes raise to make contact, to be quickly averted by the wicked grin of her thin red lips, I stare back down as I toe the line.
"Do you have any idea why I've asked you to see me today?"
"No Ms. M."
She rises from her desk, removing a long leather crop hanging on the wall behind her; right hand firmly gripping the handle, while the thumb and forefinger of her left hand gently explore the leather braiding that makes the shaft. She moves around the desk and begins to circle me; the tap of her heels on the tile floor marking the meter.
"Well William, It appears that you are having some difficulty paying attention during my lessons... or rather, to be more accurate... your attention appears to be somewhere else entirely, somewhere it shouldn't be... somewhere obviously inappropriate... And I have also noticed that your hands have been quite busy playing with something under your desk... Would you like to tell me exactly what it is your playing with down there?"
"No Ms. M... I-I, I mean it's nothing."
She stops directly in front of me. Her tone shifts slightly to a nurturing mother, but with an unmistakable underlying intention of condescension.
"Oh my shy little boy, I was hoping we could resolve this issue ourselves... Keep this just between you and me... Would you rather have this conversation in the Headmaster's office?"
(Is she offering me a why out?)
"No Ms. M."
"Well then... I'm going to need you to be completely honest with me and answer all my questions truthfully. Can you do that for me William?"
"Yes Ms. M."
"Good boy... Now I'm going to ask you again, and this time I'm going to be rather direct... Are you playing with your penis during my lessons?"
(I have no choice but to come clean, this may be my only way out.)
"Y-Yes Ms. M."
"And William, when your touching penis in my classroom... are you looking, and fantasizing about me?"
"Yes Ms. M."
"That's a good boy... I truly appreciate your being honest with me... But you certainly understand, it is my responsibility to this school to discipline you for this obscene behavior. I can't just let you go around masturbating your penis when and where ever you want... After all, it is my duty to teach undisciplined boys how to behave like young men. Do you understand?
"Yes Ms. M."
"Good boy."
She leans back on the desk, legs stretched straight crossed at the ankles, angled to the floor. Her skirt rises up just enough to get a peek at the lace pattern at the top of the stockings. Arms folded, lifting & squeezing her breasts together. The edge of the desk pushing against her ass to create a new set of curves, like soft hills beyond her hips.
"Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully. You need to accept my discipline as the consequence of your astonishingly perverse behavior, and you will need also to obey closely to all my instructions... is that clear?"
"Yes Ms. M."
"Now to begin... I would like you to lower your pants, so we can have a close look at exactly what's causing your problem."
A look of confusion flashes over my face. Before I can even make out the word "What?", I'm firmly cut off.
"How would like me to explain this foul & indecent behavior to your parents?"
I reluctantly unbutton and unzip my pants, pushing them down to my ankles.
(I can't believe I'm doing this... this is so embarrassing)
"Your little undies too!"
(Fuck!)
I slide my boxer briefs down with a growing feeling of humiliation about to be made worse. I look up to find her staring directly at my privates.
"Oh my dear little boy, (giggle) that is the tiniest little penis I have ever seen... You must be so embarrassed."
Nerves and humiliation of the present situation has had the same effect as jumping into cold water. My face is turning red as my tiny little pecker shrinks between my legs.
"To be perfectly honest... I'm a bit disappointed. I was expecting a little more...(giggle) to work with."
Taking a wooden ruler off the desk, she moves toward me, lifting the head of my dangling member with the end ruler.
"How can something so tiny be causing such a huge distraction? (giggle)"
Holding the ruler flat and level to my genitals.
"Measure it!"
(Oh man. Just need to get this over with)
Using my thumb and forefinger, I place my shrunken limp penis squarely on the edge of the ruler; feeling the cold wood against the shaft, I stretch the organ as far as it will go.
She looks down.
"Three and one quarter inch... Well that simply won't do now will it?"
Backing up a step, she slides up onto the edge of the desk, crossing her legs; skirt sliding up over the welt of lace at the top of her stockings to expose a band of soft smooth flesh that disappears under the hem of her skirt. For first time I begin to feel a tingling in my groin, starting in my testicles, radiating into my limp penis; the capillaries of the shaft begin to expand, once again allowing the flow of blood into my cock.
"Get it hard!"
I return a look of shock.
(Are you serious?)
"Come on! Show me how you do it. Three and a quarter inches is not acceptable... Make it bigger."
Conflicted by which of the two is the worse humiliation, continuing to stand here with my shrunken penis dangling between my legs, or masturbating while she watches; I pinch my tiny cock and start rapidly yanking. First with my thumb and forefinger... The head of my penis bouncing freely like a bobble doll... then with two fingers... My stare fixated on the brilliant contrast of the stocking's black lace against milky white thighs... Then three fingers... I begin to feel the blood pulse into the shaft, groin muscles flexing & releasing... four fingers... Cock beginning to engorge with warm blood.
I look up to see a smile that could define the meaning of belittlement; a sadistic impersonation of a mother's face watching her little boy piss in the potty the first time. A boy with his penis in his hand either way I guess.
My hand now firmly wrapped around my cock, short rhythmic strokes, testicles beginning to contract, growing firm, harder, larger; I feel the sensation...
"Stop!... Hands to you side!"
Deep breath.
My cock thrusts outward and flops down; not yet fully erect but still semi-flaccid, pointing straight out at a slight downward angle, bowing like a bough of a laden fruit tree. Twitching up and down as warm blood continues to pump into the shaft.
She moves from her desk to retrieve an item from a cabinet, my erection pulsating in tempo with the sound of her heels tapping the tile.
"Now I assume that in addition to your problem with chronic masturbation, you are also a pre-mature ejaculator... and I won't have you making a mess on my floor."
She returns with a length of black silk rope. Squatting down before me, my throbbing cock just inches from her face; her mouth; her red lips.
"DO NOT SQUIRM."
With a will of its own, my cock starts stretching forward like a growing stalk reaching toward the sun.
