Deb suggested a bit of role play for our next session - she would be the strict teacher and I would be a naughty student. We spent much of the week before our slated session developing our characters online - her admonishing me to ‘behave or face the consequences’, ‘stop my sass or take a trip across her knee’ along with other quaint threats. There was no uncertainty that a spanking over her knee was in my future, that it would be applied by my bare bottom and somehow a wooden ruler and/or yardstick would be involved.

I arrived at her place in my usual work attire - slacks and a casual shirt. She wore a nominally conservative blouse but unbuttoned enough to provide a generous view of her ample cleavage. Her breasts were most alluring to me and I hoped that soon she might set them free for me to touch, suck and maybe even fuck. Her lower half was clad in a light gray skirt, covering her round bottom with enough of a side slit to be enticing.

She immediately launched into her cross teacher persona, “It isn’t enough your grades have slipped but your attitude and sassy mouth are unacceptable. I owe a trip over my knee to teach you a good long lesson on how to behave properly in school!”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied already getting aroused by the scene. She took me by the hand and led me to the spare room that served as her home office. A straight chair was already positioned in the open space of the room to facilitate the first segment of the spanking. On the seat of the chair lay a sturdy wood ruler - not the flimsy junk normally sold these days but a vintage item made of hardwood and well-suited to applying significant heat to a spankee’s bottom. On the desk was the yard-long cousin of the ruler. She sat in the chair and commanded, “Get those pants down and go over my knee.”

We had discussed - at great length - the various merits of who bares the spankee’s bottom, whether done by the spanker like she had done for me in our inaugural session or by the spankee themselves on command - indicating compliance and active participation in the punishment. I quickly undid my belt and fasteners, pushing my slacks and boxers down to just above my knees. She sighed at my half-mast status and jerked the clothing down to puddle around my ankles. She prompted me to drape myself over her lap and the adjusted my position slightly before tapping the ruler against my bare cheeks.

I reveled in the feeling of my pelvis - and particularly my boner - against her warm lap and the comparatively cool air my bare cheeks felt, knowing heat was only moments away. “You’ve been a very naughty boy and deserve a good spanking,” she declared and then began to smack my cheeks with the ruler. She small tool allowed her to paint the entirety of my bare ass with swats - I felt strikes from just even with the top of my butt crack to the tops of my thighs, the side and even turning the ruler to hit the inside faces of my cheeks as her left hand spread them slight for better access.

She paused and I felt her fingers probing my fiery cheeks. She prompted me to stand and then gasped in mock disgust at the spots of pre-cum on her skirt. “What a very naughty boy you are, leaking like that on my best skirt. I need to take care of that matter before I finish your spanking,” she scolded. She slid to her knees and took me in her mouth. She stroked, suck, licked and kissed until I knew release was imminent.

“I’m really close,” I noted so she wasn’t completely surprised and then felt my whole body tense. She pulled back with her mouth open and eyes locked on mine. Watching my cock twitch and then gush into her mouth was perhaps the most intense sexual visual I had ever experienced. She kissed the head, licking the last drops and then conspicuously swallowed.

She stood and ordered, “Bend over my desk, mister.” I happily shuffled to the desk and bent over. “Count these,” she added and then gave my ass a sharp strike with the yardstick.

The intensity was unexpected and I shrieked, “One!”