Making the Grade


by Anonymous

Twenty-one year old Matt Hayes looked unenthusiastically out the window. Another boring day in Algebra class. He was ready for this day of school to be over with. Suddenly he heard his name.

"Matthew Hayes, come see me after class for a moment."

He wondered what was up. At the end of class he walked slowly towards Professor Callahan's desk. The older man looked at him sternly.

"68, Hayes."

"What's that, sir?"

"68. That's your grade at this point for the semester. There's no way for you to pass right now."

"Um...oh. Sorry. I've never been good at maths."

"You seem to be a good scholar otherwise. What are you making in your other classes?"

"Uh, 90s range mostly."

"I thought so. I suppose you'd like an opportunity to bring this one up?"

"Well, yeah, of course. What can I do?"

"I'm not in favour of letting you do make up work. I simply don't have time to grade it. I think some sort of punishment is in order. If you can take it like a man, I'll raise the grade."

Matt grew nervous, wondering what on earth the man had in mind.

"Uh, what would you suggest, sir?"

"Personally, I think you could use a good spanking."

Matt turned red and burst out in nervous giggles.

"You can't be serious."

"I'm deadly serious. Do you want the grade raised or not?"

"I...I do." His parents would be furious if he failed.

"Come to my flat at 5:30. You know where it is."

"Yeah."

At 5:27 Matt knocked on professor Callahan's door. His heart was racing in anxiety. This was the most twisted thing he'd ever heard of. He wondered if the professor got off on this kind of thing. But what could he do? He needed the grade.

Callahan opened the door and looked at his student. He'd been watching Hayes since the first day of class. He was a strikingly handsome tall, skinny young man with a boyish face, neatly combed auburn hair and black-framed glasses. He'd been hoping all year that he'd have a chance to do this.

"Come in. What are you so dressed up for?"

"Uh, I have a date at six."

Callahan smirked. He wouldn't be going to bed with his date tonight.

"Take off your trousers and underwear."

"WHAT?" Matt turned bright red at the suggestion.

"That's the way it's got to be. You don't have anything I've not seen before. Do you want this grade or not?"

Blushing furiously, Matt removed his trousers and boxers.

The professor sat cross-legged on the floor.

"Lay over my lap."

Matt obeyed, heart pounding. This was so...wrong. But what could he do?

The professor took a moment to admire his student's arse, resting his hand on it gently. In keeping with his boyish appearance, it was pale and almost totally hairless, but surprisingly rounded for such a skinny boy. Lovely. He began to stiffen at the sight.

"I'm going to strike you thirty times with my hand. Then you'll go over to the bed there and lie face down. You'll get 20 lashes with a strap and ten with a paddle. Then you can go off to your date."

Matt squirmed. This was 10 times worse than he had imagined.

"SMACK!" The professor brought his hand down none too gently. "SMACK! SMACK!" He covered Matt's arse thoroughly, reddening the skin in each area before moving on. He brought his hand down heavily on the delicate part where the legs began, and Matt let out something resembling a squeal. It really stung. Finally that part was over.

"Over to the bed. Lie over those pillows."

Matt obeyed meekly, blushing like crazy. He felt insanely vulnerable, lying face down with his arse propped in the air by two large pillows. This was wrong. So wrong.

"WHACK!" A leather strap smacked down on his exposed arse. The pain was intense, and poor Matt squirmed against the pillows. The professor stood back to observe his handiwork, the red welts on his swollen pink bottom. He was growing harder and harder.

"Spread your legs."

"What??"

"Spread your legs. Wider."

Intensely embarrased, Matt spread his skinny legs, revealing his penis and, probably, his arsehole. His face was redder than it had ever been.

The professor admired his student's display. To his delight, Matt was very well hung, he guessed about 8 inches. Sadly there was no trace of an erection. Too bad. Some guys just didn't get off on this sort of thing.

"WHACK! WHACK!" The strap crashed down several more times, and then the final two blows landed right in the middle of his arse, striking his arsehole. The pain caused Matt to let out a strangled sob at the last moment.

Finally the professor picked up the paddle. It was a large one, with holes to make it more "aerodynamic." It also made it hurt like hell.

"WHACK! WHACK!" Matt couldn't take it anymore. He started crying. By the time it was over, tears of pain and rage were streaming down his reddened face.

"You can stand up and put on your pants now."

Matt did so, averting his eyes from the professor's gaze. It hurt so bad. Already he was thinking about cancelling his date.

"You did fine. You get a 75. Come here."

The professor hugged Matt firmly. Matt shrank in horror at feeling the older man's erection against his leg.

"Have a great time on your date, Matthew."


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