I Hate Math

by William Turney Morris

Copyright© 2019 by William Turney Morris

Erotica Sex Story: You can't expect to do well in class if you don't do your homework...

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Coercion   Heterosexual   Fiction   School   BDSM   Oral Sex   Water Sports   .

“I fuckin’ hate math!” she swore to herself.

She had been trying, unsuccessfully, to follow the example that the teacher, Mr. Morris had been working through on the board at the front of the class. Two things were distracting her; firstly since she was looking across from the side of the classroom, she could see his firm arse cheeks encased in his tight jeans. She was mentally undressing him, and wondering just how big his cock was, and whether she could fit all of it in her mouth. But even more distracting than those thoughts was her need to get to the bathroom. She hadn’t gone since she woke up, and the need was getting more urgent. She had been squirming in her seat for the last thirty minutes, pressing her thighs tightly together. At least the period should be over in a minute, and she will be able to get to the bathroom one floor down before joining her friends in the cafeteria for lunch.

For the umpteenth time in the last half hour, she looked at the clock above the board. It slowly – ever so slowly – inched its way up to the 60 minute mark. Finally, the bell went for the end of the period. She put her books in her backpack, and stood up.

“Tonight, I want you all to read chapter three in your text book,” Mr. Morris said. “We’ll be working through the exercises at the end of the chapter in tomorrow’s class. And your homework assignments are due in today; just leave them in a neat pile on the corner of my desk.”

Shit. She had not completed the assignment. It wasn’t really her fault; she had started it last night, sitting at the study desk in her bedroom intending to finish it. But as soon as she started, she was distracted by thoughts of Mr Morris; his piercing blue eyes that seemed to look through her into her soul. It was made even worse, because yesterday at lunch, one of her friends shared the latest gossip. Janice had seen Mr Morris lead the new, young art teacher, Miss Cooper into a spare storeroom in the basement, and she hung around outside. Sure enough, after about ten minutes, she could hear the moans of pleasure from Miss Cooper. They were in there, fucking like bunny rabbits.

Her mind went back to last night, when she was attempting to do her homework. Why would he do that with her, she asked herself. She’s not no tits at all, she’s a flat as a board. Not like her own 38D breasts. She slid her hands up inside her top, and caressed her boobs. She had taken her top and her shorts off, and lay back on her bed, imagining what it would be like to have him fuck her. She had seen him at the beach just the other weekend; he was carrying his surfboard under one arm. His sexy, hairy chest was on display, and she wished he was carrying her off somewhere. She imagined her hard nipples rubbing against his chest hair, as he slowly slid into her.

As she fantasized, she reached down inside her panties, rubbing her wet pussy and fingering herself. Over the next two hours, she came several times, and the last one was so powerful, so intense that she gushed her cum everywhere, soaking not just her panties, but her bedsheets as well. By the time she had stripped and remade the bed, she was too exhausted to finish the assignment.

Back to reality. She hadn’t done her homework, and it was due RIGHT NOW!

“Oh well, I can just sneak out with people between me and him, and bring it in tomorrow,” she thought to herself.

Her plan had almost worked, she was almost out the door when he called her back.

“Vikki! I think you forgot to hand in your assignment,” he called out.

She returned back to his desk, trying to think of a way out of her predicament. He told her to wait until everyone had left; she could really feel her need to pee; and she stood there, pressing her thighs together.

“Now, Vikki, where’s your assignment?” he asked. “I guess that once again, you haven’t completed your assignment on time.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Morris, I started it last night, but didn’t finish it,” she said, looking down at his feet. “Can I do it tonight, and submit it tomorrow?”

“That’s not fair for everyone else; they managed to complete it on time. This is the third time you’ve failed to complete assignments on time. Unless we can come to some agreement on it, I will have to mark you as a fail for this subject.”

Her heart sank; this would ruin her 4.0 GPA, and blow away any chance of getting into a decent college. She did have a thought, and she looked up at him, licking her lips, and reach out towards his fly.

“Well, that might be enjoyable for me,” he said. “But there has to be some element of punishment in it for you. Otherwise, how will you learn the consequences of not getting your work done?”

He moved over to the door, locking it and pulling the blind down over the window. He then turned out the classroom lights, and anyone walking past in the corridor would assume the room was unoccupied. Reaching under his desk, he pulled out a long, thin bamboo cane, and flexed it between his hands.

“Right, pull your skirt up, panties down, and bend over that desk. Six of the best, I thinkj,” he said as he swished the cane through the air.

Shit. Today of all days, she had decided to go ‘commando’, on a dare from some of the others. Oh well, nothing she could do about it now; her more pressing concern was the need to empty her bladder. God, if she pissed herself in front of him...

She pulled the edge of her skirt up, exposing her bare backside to Mr Morris, and bent down over the desk.

“What’s this?” he asked. “No underwear; that’s a serious violation of the school’s uniform policy, Miss Martin. I think you’ve just earned yourself another four cuts.”

He stood behind her, and bent down. He roughly pushed her ankles apart, and she felt them being tied to the legs of the desk with some cloth. He then moved around in front of her, pushed her upper body hard against the top of her desk and tied her wrists to the other legs of the desk. She was held securely on the desk; her weight and angle was making the edge of the desk press uncomfortably into her bladder. She squeezed her muscles tightly so that she wouldn’t leak.

“Now, so I don’t lose count,” he said, “you are to count each stroke out loud. If you don’t, then I’ll forget where I’m up to, and have to start again. This is for your own good; as a reminder that you have to complete the work assigned to you ON TIME.”

He walked around to stand behind her, and he felt the cane touch her backside. He moved it away, and she heard a few swishes as he swung it in the air. Then her backside exploded in a burst of hot, searing pain. She was surprised by it, and had not tensed her muscles. She could feel a small bit of pee escape from her; she couldn’t help herself.

“Jesus! One!” she remembered to call out.

She tensed the muscles in her arse cheeks, and prepared herself for the second hit. It was just as hard, but didn’t seem to hurt as much.

“Two!”

Instead of another hit with the cane, she felt his hand sliding over her butt cheeks, moving down between her thighs. His soft touch ignited a fire inside her; and she could feel her wetness start to flow. His fingers reached down and touched her clit; which responded by swelling and throbbing. She could feel his fingers rubbing her wetness around her aching bud; she sighed softly. She had to tense her muscles as his fingers moved along her slit; he rubbed right on her pee hole. She almost lost control; but fought to keep everything inside her. When he rubbed his fingers around the opening to her cunt, and slid a finger a little way inside her, she groaned with pleasure.

“Maybe he’ll forget the rest of the cane strokes, and finger me?” she thought.

She then felt him pressing his finger tip against her arsehole; she relaxed slightly, and she felt her opening up, and his finger enter slightly.

There was no chance of a reprieve; she felt the cane hit her again.

“Three!”

She was becoming accustomed to the pain of it hitting her now; she would clench her muscles, and it didn’t seem to be as bad as that unexpected first hit.

“Four!”

“Five”

Strangely, she was feeling incredibly aroused; her pussy was throbbing, and deep in her cunt, her hot, sweet juices were really starting to flow. In fact, she could feel them start to trickle down the inside of her thighs. If she actually came, she thought, what if she gushed? Or squirted? She barely had time to tighten her muscles as the next stroke hit; another little jet of pee escaped; she thought she could hear the sounds of it splattering on the floor at her feet. God, don’t let me lose control, she pleaded with herself.

“Six!”

At least she remembered the count, if he had to start again from the beginning, everything would be lost.

“Seven!”

“Eight”

Only two more, and she would be able to go ... but she was so incredibly turned on; there must be a stream of her juices flowing down each thigh. Her clit ached for someone to touch it, and her cunt was throbbing, needing to be filled with a hard cock, or anything!

“Nine!”

God, she was right on the brink, if only her hands were free, to touch her clit, push a finger inside her. It would be a huge orgasm, she knew it, one that would have her gushing her cum and leaving her shaking.

 
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