Mary suggested playing a classic scene - her as the naughty schoolgirl to my stern teacher. She came to my place after work and withdrew to the bathroom to change. She emerged wearing a classic schoolgirl outfit - a white blouse over a plaid skirt. I imagined underneath were basic white bra and panties - the latter I would discover very soon.

I saw this when she came into my office and was quickly hard, just from seeing her in the outfit and imagining the fun to ensue. “Young lady,” I scolded. “I just graded your essay and discovered you had copied much of it verbatim from the internet. Do you know what the penalty for plagiarism is at this school?”

“Strokes with the yard stick,” she whispered. In preparation for the scene I had thought about the classic implements for a school-based punishment. I had told Mary my choice - a sturdy yardstick - in advance. I wanted to not only to build anticipation for us both but also to guide our dialog.

“Yes, indeed,” I agreed. “Today you have two dozen coming that you’ll be getting on the bare.”

I think Mary was actually was surprised at the sentence, though I expected she could easily endure it. “Please, sir, not so many,” she begged.

I pretended to mull-over her plea and replied, “Ok, I would reduce it to just six strokes of the yardstick in exchange for a full minute over my knee for a hand spanking and another minute more with my ruler.” I pointed to the tools that already lay on my desk. She nodded wordlessly and I took a seat in the chair that faced the desk. She instinctively moved to my right side.

“Panties down,” I ordered and she reached under her skirt and lowered her panties to mid-thigh. I reached across to the desk and retrieved an old-fashioned, one-minute sand timer and handed it to her. “Over my knee, young lady,” I ordered and she draped herself across my lap. I flipped up the back of her skirt to reveal my canvas and said, “Turn-over the timer when you’re ready.”

She took a deep breath and turned over the timer. The sand began to fall and I began to spank hard and fast. I aimed to cover the entirety of her cheeks, top to creased and side to side, ending the minute with a series of volleys of successive strikes to her sit spots. “Hand me the ruler,” I ordered. She reached over to the desk and handed me the tool. Another deep breath and she turned the timer again. I paddled her bottom with the slat of hardwood, re-heating her already pink cheeks. I was not paying attention to the timer but focused on whacking the crest to crease zone when by cried plaintively, “Time, time…”

I realized we were both a bit out-of-breath and prompted her to stand. “Bend over the desk,” I ordered. “Hold onto the far edge and don’t let go or come out of position or the stroke does not count.” I flipped up her skirt and tucked it into its own waist band. I tapped the yardstick against her proffered tush and instructed, “You will count these. I will wait until I hear your count so you set the pace,” I explained. I drew back and delivered a solid stroke, the wood against skin creating a very loud crack. She squealed in surprise but paused a moment before softly saying, “One.”

After the sixth, she remained bent over my desk for a moment before standing and rubbing her seared cheeks. She turned to face me as I set the yardstick on my desk. “I have a surprise addendum to your punishment,” I announced. Her eyes were a bit moist yet they really twinkled at the twist. I approached her and unbuttoned her blouse, the prompted her to kneel on a footstool that I hoped would solve the vertical alignment problem. She opened my pants and took me into her mouth before I pulled away briefly and then slid my cock under her bra. She pressed her boobs together and began to undulate up and down. I took very little extra stimulus to bring to fruition, unloading on to her breasts and chest. “Who’s the naughty one now?” Mary asked. “Just look at what a mess you’ve made.”