The Education of Buffy Summers
3
“What is this?” William demanded, waving the contraband in
front of Buffy’s face. She flushed, too surprised to come up with a good
defense, or even a respectable offense.
“I—I—nothing?” Buffy offered.
He shook his head in disbelief. God, did she think he was aniot?iot? “I told you you wouldn’t like it if you made me mad again. Didn’t you
listen to me? Or are you just trying to see how far you can push me?”
“I—I—I can explain—”
“The time for that was the first three times I asked,”
William said curtly. “You’re way past the point of explanations, Miss Summers.”
“Are—are you going to smack my hand again?” squeaked Buffy.
“No, I am not going to smack you hand.”
Buffy tried to repress her sigh of relief. She hadn’t really
let on before, but that ruler hurt. And
she really didn’t want to feel that thing slapping against her flesh again, or
even—
“Bend over.”
“What?” Buffy blurted out in astonishment. She must have
heard him wrong. It sounded like he said—
“I said, Bend
over. And raise your skirt.”
Buffy stared at him, her jaw dropping. He had to be kidding!
There was no way he d thd think that—
“Every second you hesitate will make this worse for you,
Miss Summers.”
Finally Buffy bent over, pulling her skirt up to pool around
her waist and bracing her hands on her knees. Her cheeks burned with
humiliation.
After a moment she felt a hand caressing her soft bottom,
stroking into the curve of her buttocks and then tracing up the mounding flesh
to the small of her back.
“A thong, Miss Summers? As it
happens, those are also again Brighton’s policy. And I
think you’ll find they offer surprisingly little protection,” William added,
slipping his hand beneath the waistband and drawing the panties down, baring her
completely to his intense gaze. At his urging she lifted one foot, then the
other, allowing him to scoop up the black scrap of material and tuck it into a
desk drawer.
“Now, then,” he said, returning his warm hand to rest on her
ass. “I want you to keep count for me, Miss Summers.”
A moment later his hand came down upon her bottom cheeks,
surprisingly hard, and she gasped in response. “What did you say, Miss
Summers?”
“One,” she said hastily.
Again. Flat
against the apple of her ass. “Two.”
Smack. “Three.”
Crack. Harder, this time. “Oww!”
“What was that?”
“I mean, four!”
Swack! This time just the right
cheek. “Five!” Smack! This time the left. “Six!”
Slap! Right across the bottom this time, where her thighs
met her ass, and to her horror she felt electricity
ripple through her pussy and go straight to her clit.
Unbidden, she moaned.
“I don’t believe I heard you, Miss Summers,” he reminded
her.
“Six,” she mumbled. Suddenly he smacked her ass with a
flurry of small slaps, and she wriggled her bottom helplessly, hissing with a
mixture of desire and pain. “What?” she protested.
“That was number SEVEN,” he corrected her, resting his hand
on her ass. “Not six.”
“Seven,” she panted, shifting her bottom under his touch, squeezing
her hands around her knees, trying not to touch herself. If he just moved his
hand a little….
“Have you learned you lesson, Miss Summers?” he asked,
absently moving his hand in small circles over her ass. She moaned, squirming
under his touch and widening her legs. As if in response, his hand slipped
between her thighs and tangled itself into her nest of curls, tugging
demandingly.
“I’m not sure,” she gasped, thrusting her hips back at him.
“Then we’ll just have to worker harder, won’t we?” he said
pragmatically, unbuckling his belt and sliding down his fly.
SNORE! Buffy jerked awake, disturbed by the surprisingly
loud snoring of her roommate, Cordelia Chase. Between Buffy’s legs she was drenched, evidence of how much she’d been enjoying her dream.
She screwed her eyes shut and tried to fall back asleep, reluctant to let the
dream go, but it was gone.
Forget running away. Maybe she’d better concentrate on
getting a boyfriend instead—the sooner, the better.