Sonia hovered nervously outside his room, trying to muster the courage to knock on the door. She knew she was going to be in trouble and that did not detach from the even greater problem that loomed on the horizon. Okay, so she had been foolish, she should have attended the lessons and kept up with her course work — too late now! She took a deep breath, smoothed her skirt down her thighs and knocked on his door.

"Come in!" Professor Watson looked up from his large desk where he sat reviewing his students' latest submissions. The heavy door swung open to reveal a rather apprehensive young student. He peered over his glasses as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her before approaching his desk.

She seemed vaguely familiar and he tried to place her as he stared at the striking young woman with dark hair swept back off her head to form a ponytail. She was slim, with a good figure, although not too generous in the bust-line. A popular girl he imagined.

"Yes?" He spoke rather brusquely as though irritated by her intrusion.

"It's about the coming exams..." She began nervously, "I'm afraid I've rather fallen behind on some of my course work and I was wondering if there was anyway I could catch-up?" She grimaced, sucking air in between her clenched teeth.

He sighed, sitting back in his chair as he appraised her more fully. Why did these students do this? Every year there were one or two students who seemed to think that they could cruise through the year doing next to nothing and then right at the last minute expect him to drop everything to help them get through. "Name?"

"Sonia Thompson." Sonia twisted her fingers together apprehensively.

"Sonia Thompson," He repeated to himself, opening a filing cabinet beside his desk and scanning the folders. He found one with her name on it and pulled it out. He studied the contents briefly. Little wonder he barely recognised her, she had attended less than a third of his lectures and worse still, half of her assignments were outstanding. He took a deep breath, emphasising his disappoint. "Why do you do it?"

"Do what sir?" Sonia answered, feigning innocence.

"Mess about with your education — waste your parent's hard earned money. You party away the academic year..." He waved her into silence as she started to protest, "Let me guess. You've been ill, absent due to some obscure illness that has prevented you from attending lectures, but not late night discos. The hard drive on your personal computer has died, causing you to lose everything. Perhaps there has been a death in the family, or maybe it was a car accident... or any one of the other hundred odd excuses you students manage to dream up at this time of year." He calmed down, his voice steadying as he continued. "Go on, tell me your feeble excuse — let's see how original it is?"

Sonia bowed her head miserably. It was true, every word of it. All of the excuses had raced through her head at some point, right down to the failed computer excuse.

"Well... ?" He pressed.

"I don't have an excuse." She replied weakly.

"At least you are honest enough to admit it."

"Will you help me, please?" Sonia whispered timidly.

"I spend the year preparing lectures, making up assignment briefs, marking papers, dedicating hours of time and effort to have students like you turn your nose up at it all. Other students appreciate the work that is involved and in turn do the work themselves. How fair do you think it is to them that I then shift my time from the dedicated students to one who couldn't be bothered?"

"It isn't."

"You're right it isn't. And if you were my daughter I'd put you across my knee!" He abruptly snapped.

"My parents will kill me if they find out." Tears filled her eyes and threatened to spill. "If I fail I'll have to start again, do the whole first year over or drop out of University altogether — my parents will go mad."

"And so they should young lady."

"Would you help me?" Sonia persisted, wiping her cheek where a tear had fallen. "Please?"

"No! And why should I?"

"Please... I'm begging you." Sonia sobbed, tears flowing down her cheek. "I'll do anything to get through this."

"Anything?" Watson cocked his head curiously, his eyes enquiring. "That's like writing a blank cheque?"

"I don't have much money." Sonia stammered, uncertain of where this was heading, but well aware of the implication her suggestion had offered.

"You said anything — do you mean that?"

"Well... I'm not sure... I mean... what exactly did you have in mind?" Her tears stayed as she looked at him nervously.

"Nothing." He rested his elbows on the armrest and folded his hands together before himself thoughtfully. "I am merely trying to ascertain what you mean by anything?"

"I... err... don't know. What would I need to do?"

He looked at her thoughtfully. Young, slim, knee length skirt, trim waist, pretty face and sensuous lips. Shaking his head, he pulled himself together and inched his chair toward his desk. "Forget it. Now if you don't mind I have work to be getting on with." He turned his attention back to the papers before him.

"Pleaseee..." Sonia whispered.

"Look!" He put his pen back on the desk before him forcefully. "In my opinion you need to be taught a lesson. I've told you what I would do if I were in your father's shoes..."

"Do it then?" Sonia cut him short.

"What!?"

"I said do it — smack me if it satisfies your sense of justice. Just don't let me fail."

"Now listen here young lady." He was getting angry. "Don't think you can come in here and start playing games with me."

"I'm not." Sonia continued in a low steady voice. "I deserve it — you said so yourself. Whether my father tans my backside or you do, it makes little difference. If I am to be punished and you do it I still have a chance with my exams. If my father does it will be after my chances are gone!"

Professor Watson sat back in his chair flabbergasted. He had never heard anything so incredible in his life. He removed his glasses and wiped the lens as endless possibilities whirled around in his mind. "You want me to punish you?"

"If that's what it will take?" Her manner was becoming more confident and he didn't care for what he considered was the insolence creeping into her tone. "No. That's not what it will take and lose that attitude right now."

"Yes sir." Her eyes fell downward. "Sorry sir."

He hesitated for a moment, letting his eyes slowly roll up from her toes. She was pretty, exquisitely so. His thoughts drifted into sordid territory and he let those thoughts run as his eyes continued to roll slowly up toward her face. Oh Yes! How he'd just love to teach her a thing or two! There was danger here and he knew it all too well. One word from her and he would be in serious trouble. Yet, she needed to be taught a lesson and who else could do this better? The alarm-bells were clanging away in his head, urging extreme caution, but the words that came from his mouth showed no such caution, "Go and lock the door."

Her eyes peered apprehensively up at him briefly as her face bowed down. She turned silently, nervously picking her way across the room to turn the key. Sonia faced him, her eyes not daring to meet his. He liked it, her whole demeanour made him start to stiffen in his trousers.

"Come here." He forced the air of command in his voice. She timidly approached his desk to stand opposite him. He wouldn't do it, not really — would he? Surly he was only trying to scare her into thinking he would. But what if he did — what if he actually smacked her behind?

"Come around here." He waved her round his desk as he pushed his seat back, shuffling himself forward to perch himself on the edge of the chair.

Sonia stood beside him; face slightly flushed as she stared down at his dark grey clad knees. Not really? Her eyes shot nervous glances to his face as he looked up at her. Oh my God, he was! "Lift your skirt and bend over my knee."

Lift her skirt! She hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard before leaning down and clasping the hem of her skirt. She raised the back of her skirt, bunching it together and holding it to the small of her back as she used her free hand to guide herself down over his knees. Getting over his knee one handed was a cumbersome affair, but at last it was done with as much dignity as she could manage, if indeed there was any dignity to be had from such an act.

He would have much preferred it if she had raised the whole of her skirt, his eyes followed the front of her hemline as it raised halfway up her thighs, but it wasn't to be and caution erred against insistence. He felt her small firm breasts press against the outside of his thigh as she settled across his lap. Her stomach bowed downward, she wasn't high enough. He took the knotted skirt from her hand and pushed her further across his lap, his eyes drinking in the sight of her pale blue underwear tightly cladding her two firm globes.

As she rode over his lap, her buttocks became taut. The fabric stretched. His mouth felt dry as he stared at the flimsy pale blue cloth, the shallow dip as it bridged the valley between her buttocks. The stitching along the elastic stretched around the base of her buttocks, curling in and downward, a two inch strip of pale blue covering the mound of her purse bulging out between her thighs. He took it all in, every detail, scanned and stored.

She shuffled nervously, her hands reaching to the floor as her thighs tensed together tightly. Sonia braced herself for the stinging blow, whilst trying to control the rising tide of humiliation washing over her. The indignity of prostrating herself across his knee, skirt gathered about her waist, bottom submissively poised. What was he waiting for — why the delay? She turned her head slightly, straining her eyes backward anxiously.

His eyes fixed on the head of the valley parting her buttocks, peeking out from the top of her stretched underwear. Like a Siren's call it beckoned with an urgent and compelling lure, boring through his eyes into his very soul. Without thought or reason his hand acted on impulse, grasping the waist of her panties and thrusting them down quickly.

Sonia's eyes widened with shock. Her hand reacted, groping wildly as it snaked back to retrieve the flimsy cloth that defended her modesty. "Wha..."

The sight of bare flesh slammed into his mind like a lightening bolt. His hand released the elastic, allowing her underwear to snap back against the top of her thighs, moving his hand up in the air so as not to obscure the sight of the two firm globes sheering into his brain. He felt her body tense, saw her arm begin to swing back. His open hand descended swiftly, cutting off the first word of protest.

The slap caught her totally off guard, reverberating through the room and back into her already shocked mind. The heat exploded across her naked rump like a ball of fire, driving the air from her lungs. She gasped, her hips driving forward against his lap as her groping hand abandoned its quest to find her underwear and raced to the floor instead to halt her momentum.

Sonia's knees bent, pulling her naked bottom down, out of the direct line of fire. The next blow caught the top of her bare behind, propelling her hips forward into his legs once again. Her skirt unfurled down her legs as he wrestled her higher across his lap. Satisfied with her new posture, she cringed inwardly as she felt him lift her skirt.

Professor Watson's eyes glowed, his heart racing as he stared down at the treasure spread across his lap. Dark curls peeked out between locked thighs, with just the meanest hint of womanly crease on show beneath the crowning bow of tender round buttocks with its spreading redness. His hand fell, her buttocks sagged under impact, and a heavy ripple travelled the fleshy cushion. Her back arched upwards, her legs bowed, thighs spreading involuntarily, briefly offering the rudest glimpse of the hidden purse that lay within.

His hand pressed back between her shoulder blades, foiling resistance as she tried to lift herself off his lap. He let his other hand rest easily on her burning behind and cleared his throat. "You came here seeking my help, offering anything in exchange for that help, but with no explanation as to what you meant by anything. Explain yourself?"

Sonia tried to think, the blood rushing to her head as she slumped over his legs. Breathing was difficult in such a position, her diaphragm constricted within her chest preventing her from breathing normally. With so much discomfort it was difficult to reason, more so with his hand resting over her naked bottom, holding the heat to her burning cheeks. "I... err... don't know..." She wheezed.

A cool draft of air soothed the fiery embers on her cheeks temporarily as the hand lifted. The respite was brief before her smarting buttocks were stung once more by his hand, forcing the air from her lungs with a whoosh. "Anything..." She gasped, fighting back the sob, "What do you want?"

"Everything."

Confused, her mind tried to grapple with his answer whilst the stinging heat radiated across her behind. "I don't understand..." She sobbed. "What do you mean?"

The hand slapped down again, exploding against her bare flesh, causing her to wriggle against the pain and his restraining hand pushing back against her spine. He liked it when she squirmed against him, unwittingly displaying the hidden treasure between her thighs. The glimpse, so tantalisingly brief, and yet full of so much promise. "My everything is as obscure as your anything. You define anything and I'll define everything."

"I'll do whatever you want..." Sonia sobbed. His hand rode the swell of her buttocks, gliding smoothly down the base, fingers hooking into the bunched elastic waistline of her panties and pulling them down; first one leg, followed by the other. Sonia reached back...

"What are you doing?" She cried, her hand clawing the back of her leg, catching her underwear and clinging to it.

"Whatever I want — just as you said!"

"No... please..." She gasped, the harsh reality slamming into her mind with more force than any blow he had administered.

"No?" There was a moment's pause, a deafening silence that engulfed the room. He removed his hand from her back and she felt the bite of her underwear digging into her thigh relax. "Then get out of here and don't come back."

She remained frozen across his lap for several long moments. Then slowly her fingers relaxed and untwined themselves from her panties. He watched as her hand moved haltingly back to the floor beside her head, fingers spreading on the carpet. And then, not as he expected, they stayed put instead of supporting her as she lifted herself from his lap. He waited, scarce daring to believe... "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." She whispered. "Everything — whatever you want!"

He hesitated for a moment, just to be sure of the invitation. Then his hand moved; brushing over the heat of her burning buttocks as it travelled back to her panties. She offered no resistance as he pulled her underwear down her thighs to the back of her knees. Legs pressed together, she became his accomplice, balancing herself across his lap and hinging her legs at the knee so her feet rose into the air, enabling him to remove her panties without hindrance.

Dipping her head lower to the floor to counterbalance her weight as she raised her feet, Sonia suddenly became aware of the bulge pressing against her from his trousers. She tried not to consider the connotation of such a thing despite its blatancy as her briefs travelled her legs and were unhitch from her feet. Her toes touched down on the floor as she rocked back into place, ever conscious of the swelling pushing back against her lower stomach. Would this be the price of success? She guessed it probably would and whilst the thought came with little surprise, it was tinged with resignation.

At nineteen Sonia would hardly describe herself a model of virtue, but that was not to suggest she had low morals either. She was popular with the guys and knew what boys were about where girls were concerned. Older men, like Professor Watson, she had no experience of, and that left her feeling vulnerable and out of her depth.

His warm hand pressed insistently between her knees and she slowly toe walked her feet apart. She knew what he wanted now, in that respect she supposed all men, young and old, were the same. Could he see her yet? She thought he probably could and stopped inching her feet apart. It suddenly occurred to her with a gravity of concern... was she showing? Thinking about it she decided she probably wasn't, most women know the slight moist feeling they get down below and right now she wasn't feeling it.

He stared down at the widening gap between her thighs, mesmerised by the exposure. It was her apparent lack of resistance, an almost willingness to comply, which he found confusing. It seemed too good to be true and gave rise to consternation. Was she baiting him — a trap perhaps? He stared pensively at the dark wispy curls veiling the swollen mound of her purse, trying to steady his breathing so as not to give himself away. His eyes had drunk their fill. He couldn't stand it anymore... "Stand up."

She rose off his lap carefully, unintentionally offering a wider display as she tried not to rub heavily against the bulge in his trousers. Her skirt fell about her legs, restoring her dignity as she faced him, flushing brightly. She noticed him swallowing hard and waited, knowing he must do more than merely look. His hand reached toward the hem of her skirt boldly, and then seemed to hesitate, losing confidence and returned to his lap.

"Remove your skirt."

Sonia reached for the zip at her hip. Feeling more embarrassed than she had ever felt in her life, she popped the button and lowered the zip down. Her skirt dropped quickly to her ankles, the hem of her blouse affording her little protection as he turned his head and looked at her sideways.

He glanced up at her face, suddenly aware that she was watching him,. He was conscious of the soft sheen of sweat across his forehead, just as he was aware of the slow rise and fall of her breasts that could only mean she was breathing heavily.

"And the rest."

He didn't need to be more specific. Her fingers found the button at the top of her blouse and slowly worked their way down. Sonia's eyes watched him secretly, nervously, as she undressed herself. The blouse opened and she slipped it from her shoulders, letting it slip from her fingers to join her skirt on the floor. There was a moment of hesitation, not an act of defiance, more of reluctance as she reached behind her back.

Professor Watson sat in his chair, hands clasped in his lap to hide the straining bulge in his trousers. She was beautiful, he thought, a marvel of nature. Perfectly flat tummy, the way her contours curved inward from her pelvis to form a shallow hollow that ran diagonally across the top of her thighs to her pubis, accentuating the feathery plume of dark hair between her legs. He watched, waiting with baited breath for the third and final secret of her splendour to be revealed.

His eyes bounced from the top of her thighs to her concealed breasts and back again. There was a postponement in the unveiling; her hands were poised, ready for the disclosure. A furrow formed on his forehead as he frowned, perplexed by the delay. Surly she wasn't backing out — not now? She met his enquiring gaze, her eyes dropped regretfully as her face coloured brightly. "There's not much." She whispered clumsily.

He didn't know what to say and so endured the awkward silence mutely, only looking up when he caught movement from the corner of his eye. The bra fell down her arms and dropped to the floor. She stood before him, arms coyly folded beneath her breasts, shoulders braced slightly back in an attempt to exaggerate what was on show.

Pink puffy nipples stood proudly, lifting toward the ceiling on small firm breasts that were an instant picture of feminine magnificence. He sat for several long moments unaware of her growing embarrassment as he stared at her, not daring to wrench his eyes away lest he turned back to discover it was all a dream. The narrow waist, the flair of womanly hips, the crisp dark triangle of hair contrasting against the paleness of flesh... "T-turn..." He cleared his tight throat and began again, "Turn around."

Sonia turned her back toward him, almost grateful of escaping his gaze, but then she felt she could feel his eyes upon her like tentacles reaching across the room to caress her glowing rump. Would he do it now — where — how? On the floor — his desk, what would he do — just take it out of his trousers and shove it crudely into her? Somehow she didn't think so, he seemed to like to take his time, and a quick roll around the floor didn't appear to be his style.

She wasn't afraid of him, not now, not in the true sense of fear. Of course there were nerves and there was that hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, but no panic, and the nerves were only really born out of an uncertainty for what he would do next. Worse than anything was that wall of silence behind her that accompanied the eternal waiting, the nothingness. She was beginning to wish he would just get on with it.

What should he do now? He knew what he would like to do, but what if it was some perverse kind of test the governors had set. Send a young pretty girl into each of the Lecturer's to see if any of them would take advantage. Maybe not all of them, just a select few such as himself, those they had doubts about. He wrestled with the dilemma before taking a reality check. They would never stoop to something like this, not really. He needed to think — no time. Then he had to make time, plan things out — try her, make sure she was genuine. He wrenched his gaze away from her and rolled his chair on its castors back to his desk.

He called to her, motioning her to approach the front of his desk, putting that barrier between himself and temptation. Oh god, look at those breasts, the enticing way they bounced as she stepped across the room toward him. She stood before him in all her naked glory, hands clasped modestly as he stared directly at her midriff.

"Sonia..." He began, "I think we both know what we are getting into here. I want you to go away and think about it."

"What do you mean?" She asked, confused by this latest development.

"Exactly what I say, I want you to go away and think carefully about it. What you are doing, if you think it's the right thing..."

"Will you still help me?"

He nodded his head once in deliberate affirmation.

"Then I'll be back."

"Put your things back on."

Sonia crossed the room and gathered up her clothes. She didn't mind too much that he watched her from the corner of his eye as she dressed, bra first of course. In some respects she felt triumphant, like she had won a small battle, and solved all her troubles. All she had to do was think about it, which was as good as done, come back and let him have what he wanted, what all men wanted.

She smoothed her clothes out and with head bowed Sonia moved toward the door. Taking the handle in her hand, she turned back to face him, asking simply... "When?"

"Tomorrow, same time."

Professor Watson watched the door close and sat for several minutes staring at the door. A long slow sigh escaped his lips as he turned his attention back to the papers on his desk. For almost half-an-hour he struggled to concentrate before finally giving up. He sat back in his chair, his eyes turned to the spot where Sonia had stood naked, his mind trying to capture the image. Already the event seemed more like a dream than an event that had actually taken place.

That night he sat at home deep in thought. He had been foolish to let her go instead of seizing the opportunity presented to him, would she come back? He seriously doubted it — but what if she did? Possibilities swirled though his mind without definition or logical cohesion. When he eventually retired for the night sleep evaded him, his mind haunted by images of Sonia standing naked before him, lying across his knees. It was maddening.

The following morning he went to the university looking drained and pale. He negotiated the day on auto-pilot, going through the motions, the lectures, without any of his usual vigour and enthusiasm. After lunch he returned to his study and set about making a few changes to the layout, nothing too dramatic but sufficient for his needs. He settled down to mark the papers and await her arrival. An hour later he heard the knock on his door.

"Come." He beckoned, heart beating rapidly — was it her?

The door opened slowly and Sonia's head appeared around the jam. She looked at him, a small smile shyly crossed her face as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She was wearing hipster jeans and a pink tee shirt with the phrase, 'Cuddle Me' above a picture of two teddy-bears embracing. Sonia watched him tapping the desk absent-mindedly with his pen as she stood before him.

"So," He said at length, "You have returned?"

"Yes."

"And... ?"

"And... and, well I'm here!" There was no trace of insolence in her tone.

"You've thought about it then?"

"Yes." Her tone lowered.

"Yes is not an answer." He replied. "I need you to be specific, so I know we are both on the same wave length and there are no misunderstandings."

"I'll do whatever you want." Sonia's eyes dropped to avoid his.

"Don't start that again."

She hesitated before replying... "The everything you spoke about yesterday."

"Specifically Sonia, what did you understand everything to mean?"

"Sex!" Sonia said angrily. "I took it to mean sex. Shall I take my clothes off now?"

"No." He was slightly taken back by her outburst. "I have set my laptop up on the table over there. The reference files you require are open. If you retrieve your first assignment paper you will find all the information you need. Make your own notes."

"Thank you." She answered, her tone levelling.

Professor Watson watched her take the seat and set out her paperwork. He had set the table up where he could watch her without her being able to see him. He studied the sensuous curve of her slender neck, the soft downy hairs that had cut loose from the ponytail she wore her hair in. The glint of her chain hanging around her neck, had she worn a necklace yesterday — he couldn't remember seeing one. His eyes travelled over her shoulder, picking out the strap of her brassier and tracing it down her back and across. It looked like one of the eyehooks had not caught, leaving just one clasp holding the bra in place.

It was a slow arousal that grew over him, both a distraction and a yearning; a desire to somehow take this young exquisite flower and not spoil it. He didn't want to deface it with something sordid and debased, and this was where the challenge lay.

Two hours passed. Sonia made notes from the files on the screen. Professor Watson tried to concentrate on the papers he was marking in between long bouts of gazing thoughtfully at her. He sat up as she shuffled her notes together and put them in her bag. Now, she knew, it was time to pay the piper. She turned in her chair and glanced across at him, her face already beginning to flush.

"Finished?" He asked.

Sonia nodded her head and watched as he offered her a piece of paper across his desk. She rose to her feet and crossed the room slightly mystified. "My address," He explained. "Bring your notes with you. You can write them up properly there."

"What time?" Sonia glanced at the address.

"Seven-thirty — eight o'clock?" She pulled the slip of paper gently from between his offered fingers and turned to leave. "You can still pull out if you change your mind."

She said nothing as she turned and he followed the piston swing of her buttocks as she headed toward the door. So, tonight it was then, she thought to herself. This was maddening. Yesterday she had been caught completely off guard and actually undressed herself completely in front of him, allowed him to just gloat over her nudity. And when she had as good as offered herself to him, he had told her to go away and think about it! Now he did it again!

Sonia had thought about nothing else and the more she thought about it the more erotic and arousing it had become. Until the morning that was, then the nerves had kicked in. What should she wear, something sexy but not over the top. She knew she looked good in jeans and had chosen carefully. Her underwear was the best she owned, again without wanting to appear like she was dressing for a hot date.

It wasn't until she had arrived on Campus that she suddenly realised her mistake in wearing the jeans. Whilst they looked good, it wasn't so easy to take them off without being clumsy about it. Not that it mattered now anyhow because she had to go through the whole process again back at home. What was he waiting for — why didn't he just get on with it?