Frigging In Detention

'You were talking again, that's the fourth time this class.' Mr Smith was fuming with Eva he could not get her to shut up.

'But it wasn't just me...' Before she could finish her excuse he stopped her ordering her to stand on the other side of the door for the remaining 20 minutes of his history lesson. His meticulously designed lesson plan on the October Revolution was not being respected by this wayward chatterbox and he quite simply had had enough.

Once he had wrapped up his relation of the establishment of Bolshevik power, the bell went, he let his listeners go. Standing by the door he bade his class a pleasant rest of their day, Eva waited to come back and collect her things. Hoping she could do this without further reprimand. No such luck.

Attempting to get her bag and herself out of the room quickly as possible, her ankle gave way. She tripped over the chair leg splatting onto the carpet. Mr Smith stifled a giggle as he saw his offender prostrated as a victim to gravity. He sighed, and because he himself was slightly sadistic he said 'stop being silly and get up.' Embarrassed Eva's eyes shone with tears like polished silvery orbs as she tried not to cry, overwhelmed by her tumble the emotions that occupied her brain sunk into the purply bags under aforementioned orbs.

As she straightened up the embarrassment turned into a rage that she must conceal in order to not land herself in further trouble. Pathetically she blurted out 'I wasn't being silly!'. Mr Smith immediately invalidated her feelings 'You were. Now I know that it's the end of the day but not for you. Take a seat, you have detention.' She let out a long petulant moan.

'I didn't do anything that bad.' she protested.

'You disturbed me and my lesson, so for that you can stay behind for the next three hours. Understood?' Mr Smiths words constructed an impenetrable fortress of time confiscation that she could not escape. Her heart sank at his sentence, yet at the same time she felt sort of turned on by his tyrannical superciliousness. It seemed so unfair yet a thrill raced through her at the thought of getting to spend extra time with her oppressor, she found him somewhat attractive. He was young and recently qualified, but, that didn't stop him ruling with an iron fist.

Seating herself she looked around at the now empty room save the two of them. Wondering what on earth he would have her do for three hours, nerves whirred in her stomach sickening her. Yet she knew that she couldn't show weakness.

Mr Smith saw her sat and a surge of power rushed in him. Now he had her, this little devil that he detested so much yet interested him profusely. She frowned at the desk - crickets.

Staring at his captive the room was filled with silence his eyes absorbed her uniform clad figure. His interest grew with every seam he followed along her frame and hair that he examined. Eva found this silence to be most repressive and scary. Coughing she broke up the awkwardness and spoke, trying not to be rude. She failed at this saying 'Are you just going to make me sit here in silence for the next three hours or do I have a task that needs completing?'

Despite her tone being disrespectful, he couldn't call her out on it because she was right. He stood up, picked up a couple pieces of paper off of his desk and placed them before her. Seeing what they said left her wishing she never asked. He crouched to explain this cruel unusual punishment stating that she was to 'write out-neatly- each of these treatises. Then after thats done I want you to write them out again, however proceeding them with few sentences about how they reflect the political situation in Russia at the time.'

Eva liked learning about people being shot in basements not political ideology. Mr Smith just didn't understand her. All of a sudden her phone buzzed. Picking it up it was a text from her Mum reading: 'I've been waiting for 15 minutes. Are u ok?' Shit! She thought. Anxiety leaping from her brain to her fingers she began to type until her phone was ripped from her grip.

'No phones' Mr Smith said moving away from his pupil

'Sorry sir, that was my Mum I forgot she came to pick me up. I should've said. But, I forgot.'

'Hmmm...you may message her informing her of your predicament. Then give me the phone back and you can have it when I dismiss you.'

Concealing her eye roll she accepted the device to do as her tormentor told her and quickly handed it back. Again the rooms main occupier was an awkward silence that lingered a little too long. Mr Smith broke it, saying 'Get on with it, I expect you to finish that so you can move on to another task.' Was it wrong that she both loved and hated the individual attention he was giving her? She felt cursed and lucky in one sexually confused cloud that shrouded her head, distracting from the strange erotic impact that his authority was having on her she got on with the work given. Painfully inscribing each word that meant nothing to her. She feared she might die of boredom. Every few minutes she'd take a break from this mental torment to catch a glimpse of her handsome teacher who sat holding his phone up watching something with one earphone in.

A blatantly disrespectful power play that made her resent him. This resentment also fulled the fires of desire burning within her loins - she looked down at what she was writing - the intersection of his youth and the power he'd been given over her stirred up feelings she new she shouldn't be having. Her vagina stirred at the whole situation.

Hoping to escape notice she sought to resolve the itch in her pants, discretely placing her hand under her skirt to touch herself. Feeling for her clit as her educator was absorbed in his phone. Getting carried away she began to get hot under her collar, momentarily forgetting where she was she began to cum. Closing her eyes as an orgasm seemed likely any second. Before she could fully climax she'd gained the notice of the teacher.

'You think thats acceptable do you?' Realising what she'd done her mind was on the verge of collapsing, so ashamed that she had lost control and done that. 'I had an itch' was the first thing she could think of to say.

'Quite the substantial itch.' He said clutching the bridge of his nose pondering his next move, all at once this man was disgusted, angry and besotted with this wayward creature sat before him. 'Move your hands from your crotch' he continued 'and go pull the blinds down.' Divine inspiration came over him, he would beat her with his belt.

She returned and went to take a seat. He interrupted with 'no, don't do that stay stood. Place your hands on the desk.' As he was over her she did as she was told. Feeling her hips he raised her skirt, staring at her briefly covered bottom, it was tight and round. Pulling his belt out of their loops he raised it, hitting her over and over. She cried, winced and came all at the same time. The assault was overwhelming and her brain was completely denatured.

She was a shame-filled husk, feeling nothing but remorse.

Eventually the snapping of the leather against her flesh stopped. Her arse burned aggressively and she could feel a cold dampness upon her thighs that crept down with every passing moment. Before she could think of what to do next his big hands grabbed her flesh and he jiggled it, playing with her cheeks. Casually he began spanking her with his hands, the succession of these were slower, this was more indulgent almost sensual.

Recoiling at each stroke Eva's tears pooled on the desk. Her arousal growing, usually only her boyfriend touched her like this. Mr Smith pulled down her pants, intoxicated by the young woman's bottom he pulled her cheeks open looking at her arsehole. It was a treat to behold. He wanted to touch it, yet she was 18 and he couldn't risk loosing this job. Sniggering at how she cringed and cried he let go and patted her on the bum pulling her panties up twanging the elastic against her hips. The snap against the flesh moved not only through the room but through her frame as-well. Clueless she knew not what to do, so, she remained in her position.

'Well, I'm sorry I had to do that' Said Mr Smith over her sniffles, yet despite this he wasn't done 'now I want you to thank me for correcting you'. Gobsmacked she summoned the words 'thank you for teaching me a lesson sir' she squeaked from her hunched position. He flipped her skirt back over her bottom.

'You may stand now, you are disgusting. Finish your work and then you are dismissed.'

Reddened at both ends, sufficiently humbled, she sat and finished her work. Drowning in shame at the sequence of events that had just occurred. Praying to herself that all would be forgotten, although the glint in Mr Smiths eye indicated that he was going to hold this over her for the conceivable future. What a bad girl she was this was the collective thought that filled the room as she scribbled away, fast as she could.