(The following continues the unexpurgated diary of American professor David Rogers. Of course, names have been changed, although certain individuals will recognize themselves.
If you are a young lady at least one day past her eighteenth birthday and are intrigued by our unique educational methods, please contact the editor and he will put you in touch with the professor or with me.
Yours--
Dean Williams)
Maggie had her tongue in my mouth and her hand deep inside my trousers, grabbing onto my penis through my briefs. I at first responded in kind, as any man would: a beautiful red-haired and quite naked eighteen-year old girl, leashed and collared, was letting me know how much she wanted me.
Then, the teacher in me took over. My right hand, which was instinctively grasping her left buttock, pulled back. I cupped my hand slightly and then I gave her as strong a smack on that naked cheek as I could.
"Oh oh OWW!" she cried out and jumped away from me, rubbing her ass.
"Get down on your heels," I told her calmly.
"I... I" she was gasping.
"If you don't get your sweet arse down on your heels right now, with those pretty legs wide open, there will be even worse consequences," I stated evenly.
She plopped herself down so quickly she nearly fell over. Her knees were wide but not nearly wide enough for a girl being disciplined. I squatted down and roughly pulled her wider until she winced and her gaping pussy was on lewd display.
"Does that hurt? Good. It's supposed to hurt," I told her.
I stood up. Maggie was still gasping, and then she scrunched up her face as she did when she came for me, just fifteen minutes ago. This time she started sobbing.
I waited for a while then I crouched down next to her. I put my hand on her bare shoulder until she looked at me. "I am truly sorry to have to treat you this way-- I really am! You are a good girl, but even good girls need to be reminded of proper discipline."
She was breathing more calmly now. I found some tissues in my pocket and I dried her pretty eyes.
"May-- may I speak, sir?" she whispered
I was so glad she was finally remembering her discipline.
"You always have permission to speak to me," I informed her. "You are my sweet, special girl. I choose you out of all the others to be my naked pet. As long as you are respectful, you may always speak to me."
"I-- I-- am so sorry. There is... no excuse. I've-- I'm-- I am a bad girl, which is why I'm here. I am... uncontrollable sometimes. I-- I-- I need your discipline."
This was a terrific first step-- for a girl to admit that she needed discipline. I had to make sure to follow through though-- this could have been merely a learned response to generate sympathy.
I asked her if there was a bench overlooking the famous pond that were headed toward. She answered in the affirmative.
"Good!" I said. "You may stand up now. I am going to take you over my lap on that bench and give you a sound sexual spanking. After every few slaps on your bare bum, I will shove my fingers very roughly into your tight little cunnie. Eventually, you will be trained to respond with sexual arousal to being spanked."
Maggie had her head down. "Yes sir," she said quietly. "I welcome your discipline sir."
Again, she was of course being a good girl now but it remained to be seen how she would respond to true corporal punishment.
I had her lead the way once again but this time I literally kept a tight leash on her. I had to find out about what in her past had her convinced that she was a "bad girl:" there are no bad girls-- just untrained girls.
At last the path opened up to a bucolic scene with a pond that was the size of a small lake with stepping stones all around it. There was such a deep forested area just on the other side of the pond that I was surprised.
Maggie stood and looked towards the forest. "That is where we would have gone sir, and you would have properly fucked me. But now..."
Then she scrunched up her face again and began to sob. She was trying to be quiet, which showed some self-control. I let her cry herself out. I made no move to hug her or hold her. Not yet.
I put my hand on the small of her back and rubbed her once she had calmed herself. "Why do you think you're such a bad girl, pretty Mags?"
She stopped crying and turned to me in shock. "My father... he... he calls me Mags! He... caught me almost naked... playing with me self. I..."
She paused to catch her breath.
"He looked at me for a long time. I was on me bed-- with my legs open. I thought the door was locked! Then he shook his head and he left."
I was silent for a while, processing this. "Is that why they sent you here, because they caught you masturbating?!"
Maggie pressed her lips together. "It wasn't the first time. Ever since I was young, I was doin' it. But that last time that was it. He saw a true near-grown woman in there with her pants down and fingerin' her open cunnie. That was it for him."
I considered all this. Thornbush Academy was not supposed to be a place where wayward girls were sent to be disciplined. It was admittedly a place where sexually attractive young ladies learned all we had to teach them about the joys and wonders of sex.
