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 ï>¿Disciplining Young Ladies by Charles Petersunn

   Mr.  Peters provides a demonstration.

   The students had been told to expect this, and many of them had been
disciplined before.  Knowing that it was coming or having experienced it
before, didn't necessarily make it any easier.  In fact, knowing that it
was coming could make it all the more difficult.  The anticipatory anxiety,
the wondering and worrying about what might happen, could in fact be worse
than actually experiencing the shame and embarrassment of being disciplined
in front of your fellow students.  Well, maybe it's not actually worse than
the experience.  But, it was probably best not to worry about it in advance
as the worrying didn't really help.  It wasn't like that the more you
worried about it, the less likely it would happen or the less embarrassing
it would be.  And, besides, it might not be as bad as you fear.  Still, it
was so difficult not to wonder and worry.

   A couple of the girls in the class even dropped out and transferred to
Miss Baer 's class.  It was their right to do so.  Enrollment within Mr. 
Peters' classes was entirely voluntary, as it was in any class, and there
were viable alternatives.  However, it was also known that the students who
graduated from Mr.  Peters' classes succeeded, on average, at a higher rate
than those who graduated from other classes.  The fact was, his form of
pedagogy did in fact work, and very effectively so.

   It was precisely this success that led to today's classroom
demonstration.  Mr.  Eric Stratton and Miss Mandy Pepperidge from Longwood
College had requested that Mr.  Peters provide to them a demonstration of
his disciplinary techniques.  Longwood College was having a particularly
difficult time with miscreant, insubordinate, and recalcitrant students
(the members of the Delta Tau Chi fraternity were especially troublesome).

   Mr.  Stratton and Miss Pepperidge were sent on behalf of the
administration of Longwood (President Wormer himself made the request) as
it was clear that their present approach was sorely ineffective in
establishing effective discipline, respect, and honor.

   Mr.  Peters graciously assented.  It would disrupt his classroom
instruction to some extent.  No young lady currently required disciplinary
action, and he would have to take some time away from lecture and
discussion to provide an effective demonstration.  Nevertheless, he could
hardly deny the request of colleagues from sister colleges.

   Further, he didn't really want to brush the request aside.  On the
contrary, his mission as an educator was the growth and development of
college students, and the pursuit of this objective would certainly include
providing whatever help or guidance that was requested from his colleagues
at other universities.  The more he could disseminate the correct and
effective implementation of the New School method of student discipline,
the more students who would be enriched.

   Longwood College was coed and so Mr.  Stratton and Miss Pepperidge, of
course, wished to see the methods demonstrated with young women, as well as
young men.  Mr.  Peters had indicated that the discipline of young women is
best applied by a man, whereas the discipline of young men is best applied
by a woman.  Discipline is more than just the provision of a spanking.  It
was much, much more than that, as the guests from Longwood College would
soon observe.

   To observe the disciplining of young ladies, Mr.  Stratton and Miss
Pepperidge attended Mr.  Peters' math class.  They would attend one of Miss
Harding's classes for a demonstration of the disciplinary methods for young
gentleman (see "Disciplining young gentlemen").

   "Alright then, students, listen up," Mr.  Peters said, getting them to
quiet down and pay attention.  "As indicated on the syllabus, for the first
part of this class we will be demonstrating for our illustrious guests from
Longwood College the method of discipline we use within this course." Deep
breaths of apprehension and nervous anticipation could be heard through the
class.  "We are, of course, very delighted to have this opportunity to
assist our sister college." He turned to his guests with a bit of a twinkle
in his eye.  "In return, I don't suppose you might help us with football?"
A titter ran through the classroom.  No one could remember the last time
that Templeton had beaten Longwood College at football.

   Miss Pepperidge graciously responded.  "We would gladly trade your
skills in the development of young minds with our skills in training
quarterbacks.  I think we know what is truly most important."

   "Yes, well, it doesn't always feel that way when that Saturday game
arrives." It was a point well taken.  "But, let's get started." Mandy and
Eric took a position standing beside the last student at the back of the
class.  They wanted to be well out of the way, not wishing their presence
to actually interfere with the demonstration.  "Excellent," Mr.  Peters
said, "You will have a good view from there.  Clorette DePasto, why don't
you have the pleasure of being our volunteer.  If you would, please come up
to the front of the class and stand right here, in front of my desk."

   It was no real pleasure for Clorette.  In fact, it was a pleasure to all
of the other girls in the class not to have been chosen.  As they breathed
sighs of relief, Clorette's heart sank.  She had thought that she had stood
a pretty good chance not to have been selected.  After all, there were
about 15 girls in the class, and she was a very well-behaved young lady,
always duly respectful and obedient.  Why did Mr.  Peters choose her?

   Mr.  Peters had in fact chosen Clorette for a number of very good
reasons.  She was strikingly cute, with a quite petite frame, long curly
dark hair, a very sweet smile, perky nose, cute dimples, and large innocent
eyes that so often seemed to express a confused wonderment and confusion
beneath her spectacles.  Perhaps most importantly, though, Clorette was
among the more compliant and agreeable students in the class.  In fact, she
had never been spanked before.  There was simply never any reason to
discipline her.  However, her characteristic obedience, if not docility,
would be precisely helpful as the first student in the class to demonstrate
the New School methods.  He intended to provide a very comprehensive
demonstration in the limited period of time that was available.  And,
besides, he would have to honestly admit that there was a bit of him, just
a small part, that had always wanted to give Clorette a little spanking.

   "Oh, Mr.  Peters, must I?" Clorette responded, looking at him so
lovingly beseechingly through her spectacles.

   "No, no, of course not, Clorette," he replied.  "This is all strictly
voluntary.  You will not be penalized in any way if you decline to
participate." That was very true.  He had some difficulty getting this
demonstration approved by the Templeton Ethics Board.  They approved the
project as long as the participation was truly voluntary.  In fact, if a
student was willing to be spanked, what right did the college actually have
to deny her that opportunity?  "You would not, of course, receive the extra
credit toward your final grade that I am offering to each participant but,
of course, no extra credit is ever a requirement.  It's only there as a
helpful offering."

   Clorette, though, knew that she would comply with the professor's
request.  It was just simply her way.  She didn't really need the extra
credit.  She was already well on the way to receiving a final 'A' grade. 
It was just so inconsistent with her personality to decline the request of
a professor.  She often volunteered to hand out assignments or track down
articles.  She would even erase the board for a professor before he or she
arrived.  If a professor needed her for something, all he or she had to do
was to ask.  And, Professor Peters clearly needed her for this.  "Alright,
sir, yes, I will do it."

   The boys were very pleased with that decision.  Mr.  Peters had already
disciplined a number of the students in the class, including some of the
boys (although he typically brought in Miss Harding to do that).  Anyone
who was disciplined didn't really like it.  Well, that was not entirely
true.  Many of the boys, and the girls, in fact most of them, did
eventually grow to enjoy it, or at least certain aspects of it.  But, by
and large, one would certainly prefer to avoid it.  It was really all
terribly confusing.

   However, it was for the most part very enjoyable to witness,
particularly if it was a member of the opposite sex that was being
punished. And, none of the boys had yet seen Clorette receive discipline.
Penises began to swell just thinking about that cute little bare bottom
being spanked right in front of them.  Who knew that Introductory
Mathematics, Mr.  Peters' course, would be so intriguing, so instructive,
so fun!

   Clorette walked timidly to the front of the class, her eyes fixed on Mr.
Peters, wondering what he intended to do.  She hoped it would be less
embarrassing than other spankings, particularly because of the presence of
the visitors from Longwood.  She glanced back at Mr.  Stratton and Miss
Pepperidge, feeling quite uncomfortable at the thought that these two
strangers, these two adults, would be a witness to her spanking.  She
avoided entirely any eye contact with her classmates.  It was like having a
form of stage fright, where your only hope was to try to ignore the fact
that there was indeed a large audience watching your every move.  Clorette
tried to block them out of her mind as she reached her position in front of
Mr.  Peters' desk.

   Mr.  Peters smiled as she approached.  He so much enjoyed the sight of
the Templeton uniform on the young ladies: the black tie, innocent white
blouse, plaid skirt to the knees, and Mary Jane shoes.  Clorette looked
particularly fetching, with her petite frame, youthful face, and
bespectacled eyes.  "Alright, then," he replied.  "Let me turn off the
overhead lights, turn on the camera lights, and switch on the camcorder."

   Clorette squealed, "You're going to record this?!" She instinctively
covered her bottom with her hands, even though she hadn't yet shown
anything at all.  "This is being videotaped?"

   "Well, it's actually a digital camera, dear, but yes, of course, of
course," Mr.  Peters explained as he shut the blinds, turned on the camera
lights and turned off the overhead lights.  The room became quite dark, and
once he returned to the front of the class, only the two of them, Mr. 
Peters and Clorette, were in the light.

   Not surprisingly, not all of the students had been willing to be
recorded, nor did all of the parents consent to have them taped.  "Now just
the two of us in the front of the room can be seen in the camera." He
turned to the entire class, which he could only just barely see through the
glare of the camera lights.  "We don't want to violate anyone's
confidentiality, of course, or cause any undue embarrassment."

   Clorette continued to object, which was really most unusual for her, but
these were rather unusual circumstances.  "I didn't know you were going to
record this, Mr.  Peters."

   "You signed the consent form, dear.  Didn't you read it?" All of the
students in the class were at least eighteen years old, and many of the
students, and their parents, had signed a consent form, including Clorette,
in which it was clearly stated that the discipline would be taped.  Many of
the students, though, hadn't actually read it that thoroughly.  They got
these consent forms all the time from the college administration, from
doctors, from psychologists doing experiments.  They were always so long
and convoluted.  How could they be expected to read all the little details?

   Clorette shook her head.  She softly replied, "No sir, I didn't." She
could tell that Mr.  Peters was disappointed.  She so hated to disappoint a
professor.  She cursed herself for failing to have noticed the reference to
taping.  Actually, she didn't really use a curse word.  She would never use
words like that.  "I'm sorry, Mr.  Peters."

   "Well, maybe you should in fact be disciplined, young lady.  Perhaps
next time you will read consent forms more thoroughly in the future if you
receive a bit of spanking.  This could indeed be a very useful lesson for
you."

   'Wow,' she thought.  'He had a good point there.'

   Mr.  Peters continued.  "As it said in the consent form, which I am sure
all of you read," he said, turning toward the rest of the class, "We are
recording this demonstration so that other faculty, at other colleges, can
see for themselves how the New School method is implemented."

   Clorette exclaimed with surprise and some shock, "Other people are going
to see this?!"

   "Well, yes, dear, what else does one use a video recording for?"
Actually, this recording would probably also be used for other purposes,
but that would certainly be understandable.  "Mr.  Stratton and Miss
Pepperidge traveled quite a distance to witness this demonstration.  We can
hardly expect to require such an expensive journey all the time, can we?"

   "No sir, I suppose not."

   "And, I'm sure that you want to help students in other colleges become
better educated.  You're not a selfish girl, are you?"

   "Oh no sir, yes sir, of course sir."

   "Excellent, alright then, if you would," he said, as he used the remote
to turn on the video recorder, mounted in the ceiling.  "We want to first
demonstrate the basic positions for implementing discipline," he said to
his guests, to the class, and to the video recorder.  "Clorette, if you
please," he said to her, "Bend over the desk, resting on your elbows."

   With a deep breath Clorette got into position.  It had been bad enough
thinking about doing this in front of the whole class, it was so terribly
much worse to think about how many other persons, strangers from across the
country, might view this in the future.  But, she did as she was told.  She
leaned over the desk, resting on her elbows, her bottom sticking out toward
the class, the two guests, and the camera.  She could feel the warmth of
the camera lights, although she wondered if it was her embarrassed flushing
that made her feel so warm.

   "This is, of course," Mr.  Peters instructed, "the traditional position,
at least within an academic setting.  It was first proposed by Dean Stanton
at the St.  Catherine School for Girls in Canton, England in 1892, or at
least that's the first documentation of the recommended position published
within the scientific pedagogical literature.  In any case, the bottom is
nicely presented in a rather submissive posture.  To really make the point
stronger you should instruct the girl to arch her back." He turned to
Clorette.  "Clorette, if you don't mind."

   She understood what he wanted.  She was, of course, listening very
intently, as she always did.  However, she didn't really want to arch her
back as it felt like a rather obscene gesture, bent over the way she was,
but she did as she was told.  Any objection or defiance at this point could
itself justify further spanking.  She arched her back.

   The boys smiled with pleasure.  An advantage of the darkened room
immediately became evident to the boys, and some of the more adventurous of
them were already fondling their penises in anticipation of what was to
come.

   "Yes, excellent.  As you see, when Clorette arches her back her bottom
pokes up even higher, presenting an even better target, as if Clorette is
wishing, wanting, asking you to paddle, to handle, her bottom."

   Everyone, including Miss Pepperidge, found her position to be a bit
provocative in another manner as well.

   "I think some of the boys may also recognize Clorette's pose as
conveying another meaning, another implication.  Would any of you like to
share it with the class?"

   Clorette's red face deepened further.  The implication was very obvious
to her.  It was as if she was offering herself, sexually.

   None of the boys raised their hands.  Obtaining class participation was
often difficult, particularly from the boys.  Usually it was because they
weren't paying much attention.  In this case, it was probably a reluctance
to speak so openly about something that was so difficult to acknowledge, at
least publicly.

   Mr.  Peters smiled understandingly.  "My goodness, aren't we the shy
ones today.  I suppose we're feeling a little camera shy, what with the
guests here today and the filming." He turned back to Clorette and
affectionately laid his hand on her little round tush, enjoying the sweet,
soft touch of the girl's behind.  "Well, I'm sure what the boys are
noticing is that Clorette also appears to be presenting herself to be
mounted, and I imagine quite a few boys would be more than happy to step up
to the plate." He affectionately patted her bottom.

   Clorette grimaced at the feel of Mr.  Peters' intimate touch, as well as
the open discussion of the sexual nature of her presentation.  He really
wouldn't have a boy do that, would he?  Not in front of the whole class?

   "This connotation is in fact integral to the New School approach.  There
have always been considered to be two basic components to corporeal
discipline, pain and humiliation.  The New School approach, of course, adds
a third component, which I will get to shortly." He gently grasped
Clorette's cheeks to help her raise her bottom up even a bit higher. 
"Spankings can be delivered over her skirt." He again lightly fondled her
petite derriere.

   The hands of the boys were nearly all now fondling their own swelling
appendages.

   "You can, of course, increase both the pain and the embarrassment
through the raising of the skirt."

   Clorette turned her head back to Mr.  Peters, plaintively imploring him
through her spectacles to show some mercy.  She didn't want him to raise
her skirt.

   Mr.  Peters, however, did not hesitate.  He reached down for the hem of
her plaid skirt and pulled it up over her bottom, revealing to the entire
class Clorette's undergarment.  Her tight, white panty shined brightly in
the camera lights, like a wonderfully gorgeous white moon.  Her panties
clung beneath her buttocks, where there was a very clear outline of a
little cunnie cup poking out beneath her perky bottom.

   Boys in the class leaned forward eagerly, entranced by the lovely view.
A few girls did likewise, although some averted their eyes in sympathy.

   Clorette turned her face back toward the front of the room, imagining
the lustful leers of her classmates and wishing she could hide.  She knew
she couldn't see them in the darkness but felt as though each ogling pair
of eyes was an intimate touch on her behind.

   "But, in the New School, we really are not interested in inflicting any
undue harm or pain.  We do appreciate the concerns that have been raised
with regard to corporeal punishment, particularly within academic settings.
No, in fact, we eschew the infliction of undue and excessive pain and in
fact replace it with the complementary third component of the New School
method, pleasurable arousal."

   Arousal?  Clorette did not at all feel any arousal, other than the
arousal of anxiety and embarrassment.

   "We do though keep the component of embarrassment," he added as he
pulled Clorette's panties carefully down off her bottom, her naked derriere
suddenly coming into view, her little white orb seeming to now glow ever
more brilliantly in the darkened room (although this appearance could be
simply an illusion of one's greater interest in the whiteness of her naked
skin over the whiteness of her panties).  Mr.  Peters tucked her panties
just under her behind, hiding the even more delectable cunnie pouch.  "You
can't really have discipline without some punishment."

   Clorette quickly covered her face with her hands, knowing what everyone
now could see.  Even that exasperating Billy Thompson was now seeing her
naked bottom!  He was always teasing her, annoying her, making all sorts of
dirty adolescent jokes.  One time he even had the gall to pinch her bottom.
She gave him a very hard glare for that and told him that if he ever did
that again she would tell on him for sure.  He just laughed, but he didn't
try that again.  However, here he was now, sitting front and center of the
class, being provided the best view possible of her now shamefully
displayed naked fanny, even sticking it out toward him, as if she was
inviting him to pinch it.  Yes, the New School certainly did keep the
component of humiliation.

   All of the boys leaned forward, and in the comfort, the safety, the
security, of the darkened room, more than a few of them now had their hands
in their laps.  Clorette had such a very cute behind: so round, so perky,
so white, so sweet.

   Unfortunately, for the boys, Mr.  Peters tucked her panties just under
her behind, hiding the even more tasty cunnie pouch.

   Clorette could feel Mr.  Peters tucking her panties in beneath her
bottom.  She was grateful for that.  Exposing one's fanny was bad enough.
It was so demeaning and infantile.  But, imagine if the boys in the class
could see her girlish part!  She blushed just thinking about it.

   Mr.  Peters observed, "Clorette does certainly have a very pretty, a
very appealing behind.  She is a young lady of eighteen years, but her
bottom is so cutely perky and petite." To emphasize his point he delicately
patted her fanny.  Clorette squirmed a bit at his touch.  The boys squirmed
a bit at the sight of his touch.

   A young lady's behind did feel so good to pat, to touch, to caress, and
Mr.  Peters allowed himself a brief moment to gently feel Clorette's soft,
tender bum buns.  They were so preciously teeny.  He could almost squeeze
her entire derriere with just one hand.

   Miss Pepperidge squirmed a bit as well at the sight of the young lady's
bottom being so openly fondled by the professor.  She wasn't entirely sure,
however, whether she felt uncomfortable or strangely aroused.

   Mr.  Stratton though was not the least bit conflicted over his feelings.
He could feel the push of his hard cock against his slacks and the
throbbing from the excitement of seeing Clorette's pretty perky naked
derriere.  He so wished that he could reach down and give himself a squeeze
but he sincerely doubted that he could do so outside the sight of Miss
Pepperidge.  How unfortunate that she was standing to his left!  Perhaps he
could shift around her, pretending that he was just trying to get a better
view?  He was at least grateful for the darkness of the room, as he knew
that he was displaying a notable bulge.

   Sandy McDonald was sitting right next to Mr.  Stratton.  There was
little light at the back of the room but she could clearly see the bulge
out of the corner of her eyes.  It was a little disconcerting, to say the
least.  It wasn't too often that a visiting dignitary was in your class,
and even less often that he was displaying a hard-on in his slacks, just
inches from your eyes.

   She knew that she should probably be taking notes.  Some of this might
be on the test.  But, how could Mr.  Peters expect her to take notes when
it was so dark?  Most importantly, the sight of Mr.  Stratton's stiffy was
plenty more interesting to her than what Mr.  Peters was saying.

   "As you can see, I left Clorette's panties tucked just below her little
round cheeks.  I did this largely because I always find that a girl's
derriere is all the prettier when it's so nicely framed, and what better
trim than bunched-up white cotton panties."

   If bottoms could blush, Clorette's certainly would.

   "One could remove the panties entirely, but their presence, particularly
their ineffective presence, provides such a nice concrete reminder of the
young lady's state of undress.  It would be enjoyable enough for the boys
to see the girl's panties, but now," he said, as he ran a finger up and
down her lovely bottom crack, "They in fact get to see both her panties and
her bare bottom."

   Clorette's bottom again twitched, much to the pleasure of the boys,
particularly Billy, who had the front and center seat.  He so much wanted
to reach down and grip his cock, but he was so close to Mr.  Peters that he
couldn't take the chance.

   "Now, there are, of course, alternative places for the panties."

   Clorette uncovered her face and lifted her head, staring worriedly out
in front of her.  What other places?  She didn't have to wait long to find
out.

   "My favorite position for the girl's panties is in fact down here," he
explained, as he stepped behind her, momentarily obstructing the boys' view
of her precious buttercup, and proceeded to pull Clorette's panties farther
down.  "I like them here," he said, "bunched up and around the knees." He
stepped aside so that everyone could appreciate their new position.

   "You'll have to spread your legs a bit, Clorette, to keep your undies in
place.  If they fall down, I will have to provide you with some extra
spanking."

   Clorette grimaced.  She had been hoping that she could at least keep her
thighs pressed tightly together, hoping that this might help to hide her
most personal private part from view.  It actually wouldn't, but she would
at least feel that she was doing the best she could to protect her modesty,
her dignity, her self-respect.  Nevertheless, she certainly didn't want any
"extra" spanking.  She kind of hoped that she wouldn't get any spanking at
all.  Perhaps he would just have her demonstrate the position for a
spanking.  Perhaps if she was a good girl, he would spank someone else. 
She spread her legs apart, just a bit, just enough to feel her thighs
holding onto, stretching out, her white, cotton panties.  She at least felt
good that she had worn fresh, clean panties that day.

   "That's a good girl," Mr.  Peters observed.

   That made her feel better, at least a little bit.  It was always nice to
hear the compliments, the appreciation, of your instructor, but she still
didn't feel particularly good about opening her thighs up for Billy, for
the rest of the class and for whomever might someday see this videotape.

   Billy was now rock hard.  Presented before him, fully open to view, was
the little hairy Clorette cunnie cup.  It was not though in fact very hairy
at all, and so one could see very well the white, virginal peach, poking
out from between her soft lily white thighs and split down the middle by a
very delicate, very feminine, slit.  This slit in which he would so much
want to drive his cock, where it would be met and gripped by a very hot,
wet, tight, clenching cunt.  He so much wanted to grab his cock.

   "This position, of course," Mr.  Peters explained, "is also very helpful
in displaying the young lady's. . ." He leaned down a bit to Clorette. 
"What word would you prefer I use, Clorette?"

   Clorette would prefer no word whatsoever, and she certainly didn't want
to provide the word.  Her own preferred word was though 'cunnie.' She liked
that word because it seemed more feminine, more sweet, more pretty.  'Cunt'
was too derogatory, too slutty.  'Vagina' was too clinical, too
doctor-like. It was what your mother would call it.  She always thought
that the 'Vagina Monologues' should have been 'Cunnie Chronicles.' But,
again, there was no way she would tell Mr.  Peters this.  Actually, she
didn't really mind telling him, personally.  After all, he was a mature and
well respected professor.  She just didn't want to say it out loud in front
of the class.  But, of course, how much modesty did she really have left?
"Anything you want, Mr.  Peters," she softly replied, but thinking, 'Please
don't use the word cunt!'

   "Well, I personally prefer the word, 'cunnie,'" Mr.  Peters said, "and I
believe this is most fitting for Clorette, as she does have one of the more
innocently appealing little cunnies I have ever seen."

   Clorette felt another wave of warmth course through her face.  It was of
course very nice to hear that he also liked the word 'cunnie.' For some
reason, it made her feel closer to him that they thought of her, her most
feminine part, in the same way.  And, it was even better that he was so
complimentary of its appearance.  She had wondered at times whether a boy
would consider her cunnie to be unappealing.  Lots of girls she had seen in
the shower had cunnies that were so much fuller, meatier, fleshier.  There
just didn't seem much to hers at all.  Just a little slit down a white
mound.  She didn't even have much hair on it.

   "And, I must say, isn't it nice that she has such a delicate peach
fuzz." He reached down and gently traced his fingers up and down the length
of her slit.

   Clorette quickly, instinctively, clasped her thighs shut and her panties
fell to her ankles.  She groaned at her mistake, particularly as she had
not gained anything from clasping her thighs together.  With this pose her
cunnie was still very well exposed, and now she had Mr.  Peters' fingers
clutched tightly within her thighs as they lightly rested against her
personal feminine lips.

   Fortunately, Mr.  Peters did not appear to be upset.  He politely
withdrew his fingers and said, "Oopsy daisy, Clorette.  You seem to have
dropped your panties." A rather incongruous statement to be making in a
class.  "But, that's fine.  I was about to pull them down the rest of the
way anyway."

   Clorette breathed a sigh of relief.  At least she wouldn't be getting an
extra spanking.  Perhaps she wouldn't be getting any at all.

   "You can see class, our guests, and," he added, turning his face for a
moment directly into the camera, "those at home, there is also an appeal in
having the panties gathered around the ankles.  It is still rather
constraining.  Whether the panties are around the knees or the ankles, she
can't really kick or escape.  Let me demonstrate."

   Smack!

   "Mr.  Peters!" Clorette exclaimed.

   Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!

   "Mr.  Peters, please, please.  It stings!" Clorette protested, her face
grimacing, her pretty bottom wriggling.

   It really wasn't a terribly painful spanking.  There was no use of a
cane, switch, or ruler, and he actually wasn't smacking her too terribly
hard.  But, it was a shock, and it did certainly sting a bit.  Clorette
pranced and danced before the class, trying to flay out her feet, her legs,
but Mr.  Peters was right.  She really couldn't do much with her panties
wrapped around her ankles.

   And, her little dance was all the more pleasurable, more enjoyable, for
the boys, and for Mr.  Stratton.  It was like she was trying to entice them
by flouncing, sashaying, and waving her naked tush, even giving them brief
glimpses and erotic displays of her girlish cunnie.

   Mr.  Stratton hadn't realized how erotic it would be to watch a girl get
a spanking.  His cock yearned and strained to be released from his slacks,
or at least to be squeezed and stroked.

   The cocks of many of the boys were indeed being stroked and squeezed. 
They were resting their hands in their laps, as if that was how they
normally sat during a class, but any watchful eye would quickly see fingers
shifting and working on their erect penises.

   Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!

   "Mr.  Peters, please, please, I'll be good, I promise."

   It was an instinctual response.  She actually hadn't been bad at all,
but she did hope that promising to be good would end the spanking.

   However, Mr.  Peters continued to spank her.

   Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!

   After awhile, she stopped her struggling and just gritted her teeth to
accept the discipline.

   Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!

   That was enough.  Mr.  Peters wasn't actually attempting to discipline
Clorette.  After all, she hadn't actually deserved to be spanked.  This was
really just a demonstration and so there was no real need to belabor the
spanking.  He did though want to get a good rosy glow.  A vivid visual
spectacle was vital for the video tape, as well as for the guests.

   "As you can see, gentlemen, and ladies, Clorette's derriere now has a
very lively red luster.  This is what one calls a real apple bottom."

   Clorette was wiggling her Golden Delicious around, trying to get the
sting out.  It didn't really hurt all that bad.  Mr.  Peters had been
considerate about that.  It was more like an inescapable tingling, like all
the nerves of her bottom were sparkling and twinkling stars, dancing around
her bottom as her cheeks danced for the class.

   "By the way Clorette is wiggling her bottom, it's almost like she wants
us to take a bite of her apple."

   Clorette stopped moving it around.  Of course, she hadn't been doing
that to try to entice her audience.  Just the thought of that made her
blush, realizing that it probably did look like she was trying to tempt and
beguile the boys by waving her naked tush at them.  'This is so
embarrassing,' she thought.

   Mr.  Peters continued his lecture.  "It is, of course, always good to at
times pause, at least for a bit, to admire one's handiwork.  I do
particularly like the bottom at this early stage."

   'Early?' Clorette thought.  That was not a good sign.

   "The girl's bottom is now just ripening, coming alive, and the rosy
glean makes it all the more pleasing to the eye.  Here, let me show you. 
Clorette, if you would, get up on your tip toes."

   "Yes sir," Clorette softly replied, and did as she was told.

   "Having the girl on her tippy toes can be a nice variation on this
position.  By doing so she raises her bottom up even higher, of course. 
But, more importantly, the fact that she is doing so by getting up on her
tip toes gives the impression that she is doing all that she can within her
power, what little power she has, to let you know how much she wants to be
spanked, how much she wants you to see her most intimate places."

   Clorette knew very well that she was giving that appearance.  It really
did feel that way, whether she wanted it to or not, and she groaned with
embarrassment.

   "And, the presentation is indeed very delightful.  The pinkness of her
bottom now contrasts very well with the whiteness, where the hand did not
spank." To accentuate his point he gently ran his fingers up and down the
crack of her bottom.  Clorette buried her face in her hands.  He didn't
actually stick his fingers down into her crack, but it still felt rather
invasive and immodest, to say the least; to have a professor touch her
there, in front of everyone, and, besides, it tickled, and she just
couldn't help wiggling and twitching.

   "And, of course, by being on tippy toes, Clorette is doing her very best
to get us to notice the most sweetest, delicate crack of all." Mr.  Peters'
fingers went down past her bottom, all the way down, to her white, pure,
innocent cunnie mound, that was now again so visibly evident, and this time
so prominently so.

   Clorette gave out a little puppy whine as she felt the professor's
fingers lightly caressing her slit.

   "I think she is even a little bit moist.  My goodness.  It doesn't
usually happen this quickly."

   Clorette turned her head back to the professor, a look of panic on her
face.  No way!  How terribly, terribly embarrassing.  She wanted to look
for herself, but that would be rather awkward.  Besides, she couldn't leave
this position without permission.  But, as she felt the professor's fingers
going up and down her slit she could indeed feel a bit of moisture.

   "My goodness, Clorette," Mr.  Peters said, looking Clorette in the eye,
a knowing smile on his face, "You kind of like spanking, don't you."

   Clorette vigorously shook her head.  "No, no, no sir!"

   "This isn't something you've done with any of your little boyfriends?"

   She said even more emphatically, her eyes beneath her spectacles wide
open in shock, "Oh my gosh, no sir!"

   "Well, you might want to consider it in the future.  It seems like you
may in fact have a natural talent for it." He removed his finger and held
it up for her to see, to see the tell-tale glistening of feminine dew.

   She saw it and quickly looked away.  How so terribly, terribly
humiliating!  Why did he have to show it to the entire class?!  Well, she
knew full well why he did it.  Humiliation was part of the discipline
process.  Thank goodness at least none of her closest friends were there,
or her family.  When she was spanked as a little girl her father would do
it in front of the family, as the embarrassment was indeed part of the
punishment.  But, her father had never done anything like this before. 
And, then she realized, maybe her friends, even her father, would indeed
see it someday, would see the video.  What if it got on Youtube?  Her face
went deep red and her heart raced with that thought, although she quickly
realized that Youtube doesn't show any nudity.  She relaxed a little bit.
Thank goodness for that.  Although, of course, Youtube was hardly the only
place the videotape could wind up.

   Mr.  Stratton had been taking notes on a clipboard, but he now brought
the clipboard down to his side, thereby providing more cover from the eyes
of Miss Pepperidge.  He could in fact press the clipboard against his
crotch to hide his erection completely from view.  If he did that he might
even be able to surreptitiously play with himself.  But, he knew that
having the clipboard pressed against him would be like raising a red flag,
signaling that he was indeed hiding something.  He therefore just kept it
to his side.  At least then Miss Pepperidge couldn't see it.  He knew now
that he really should have worn briefs, and made a note of that for future
reference.

   The fact that he wore boxers though was much appreciated by Sandy, whose
own eyes were now fixed on the big round bulb pushing out the front of Mr.
Stratton's slacks.  It was actually kind of hard to ignore, even if she had
wanted to.  He was standing just inches from her desk.  If he moved any
closer it could poke her right in the side of her face.

   She wondered what he would do if she touched it.  Would he get angry? 
Would he jump back and yell?  She certainly didn't want to get into any
trouble.  But, could you expect a girl to just ignore something like that?
Could you really expect her to resist such an enticing temptation?

   She absentmindedly, at least seemingly so, played with a pencil in her
hand, turning it around and around, the elbow of her bent arm resting on
the arm rest of desk.  Her heart began to race as she twirled the pencil in
her fingers, slowly but surely moving closer and closer to Mr.  Stratton's
bulge.  When she was but an half inch away, she dropped her hand to shift
the pencil into her left hand and then brought her right hand back up, this
time leaning it farther away from her desk to let it touch precisely on the
tip of Mr.  Stratton's bulge.  In fact, she more than just touched it, she
grasped it firmly between her thumb and forefinger, all the time keeping
her eyes fixed on Mr.  Peters' class presentation.

   Mr.  Stratton's eyes widened in shock and fright at the feel of the
girl's fingers grasping hold of the tip of his hard cock.  His knee jerk
reaction would have been to suddenly pull away, but he had the
self-control, the discipline as a professor, to remain calm when a girl
grasped hold of his cock.  Well, not really calm, but he had enough
presence of mind not to make a sudden movement that might draw quite a bit
of attention to his erection.  He instead moved back gently, just a bit, to
let her let go, but the girl did not in fact let go.

   He had no idea what to do.  He briefly glanced down.  Her thumb and
index finger were clearly holding onto him.  She wasn't just inadvertently
touching him, although she wasn't giving any sign that she was actually
doing this intentionally.  Her face was turned away from him, from his
pants, from his bulge, his cock.  With the exception of her thumb and
finger, her full attention appeared to be directed toward the front of the
class.

   And then, she let go.  He breathed a sigh of relief.  But, she let go
only to be able to lightly, subtly caress his knob with her thumb: lightly,
softly, quietly, circling around and around his bulb.  It felt so terribly,
terribly nice.  It would under any circumstances, but when accompanied by
the sight of Mr.  Peters lightly sliding his fingers up and down Clorette's
little feminine slit, it was quite an experience.  Yes, there did appear to
be some rather distinctive benefits of the New School method of discipline.
He shifted his position closer to the girl caressing his knob.  In fact, he
moved all the way up to her desk, ostensibly just to look more closely at
Mr.  Peters' demonstration, but in fact to get as close as possible to the
young lady's fingers, as well to further hide himself from the view of Miss
Pepperidge.

   Sandy smiled as she noticed him bring his erection closer.  No, he had
not reacted with shock or anger.  Apparently he liked it when a girl played
with his thing through his slacks.  Of course, she shouldn't be terribly
surprised at that.  Mr.  Stratton was, after all, a man, and what man
wouldn't enjoy that?  She grasped his knob between her first and second
fingers, like it was a cigarette, or more accurately a cigar, that she was
going to smoke, and then applied her thumb again to the knob, softly
caressing it through his slacks.  She so much wondered what it must look
like.  It did feel awfully big.

   "Well," Mr.  Peters said, from outside of the darkness.  "Let's now get
these panties all the way off.  I think we've covered well enough the
benefits of they're still being on.  Let's proceed to some positions in
which the panties are discarded."

   Clorette was very glad that Mr.  Peters stopped caressing her slit.  Her
face was now so terribly flushed, both with embarrassment and with
excitement.  He was apparently indeed correct that there was considerable
arousal during the course of a New School disciplinary session.

   Mr.  Peters crouched down and helped Clorette step out of her panties,
continuing to instruct as he did so.  "Removing the panties can be quite
gratifying to the girl as she can now more freely move about," as if
Clorette was free to do as she wished.  If she could move freely, she would
walk out of class, even if it meant leaving without her panties.

   Mr.  Peters took his time helping Clorette step out of her panties, as
his eyes were so close to her perky pink cheeks and sweet feminine pouch.
It took all of his professorial discipline not to bury his face, his lips,
into her thighs so that he could lick the sweet nectar of this girl's
delectable quim.

   Clorette did not leave the room but she did at least take the
opportunity of having her panties removed to get off her tip toes and close
her thighs.

   Mr.  Peters let the slight indiscretion slide.  He knew that remaining
on tip toes can be tiring and he didn't really want the girl to become
uncomfortable.

   He further explained as he stood back up, "By having the panties
removed, she is that much further from being able to pull them back up. 
Plus, of course, she might appreciate that you now have her delicate,
personal, unmentionables within manly hands."

   Clorette did not indeed "appreciate" being reminded of that, and she
grimaced at the thought of her panties being held up in the front of the
class.  At least Mr.  Peters wasn't passing them around the room, letting
each of the boys personally handle them.  That would certainly be going too
far.

   "In fact, let's pass Clorette's panties around the class so that each of
the students can take a closer look.  The boys may even consider
appreciating their aroma, if they are so inclined."

   Clorette dropped her forehead onto Mr.  Peters' desk.  Could this really
get any worse?

   As Mr.  Peters approached the student sitting in the front row of the
first column of desks, the one along which Mr.  Stratton and Miss
Pepperidge were standing toward the back, he allowed himself a brief sniff.
"Yes, I think you should take advantage of the opportunity.  Clorette
really does have a very nice, feminine scent." He handed the panties to the
boy sitting in the front row, who did indeed study them quite closely.

   Clorette remembered when she was much younger and some boys stole her
panties from her swimming bag.  That had been so embarrassing, seeing them
hold her panties up and toss them around, but at least they got into
trouble for it.

   She wasn't at all sure that she would even want to put her panties back
on when they did finally get back to her.  Even Billy Thompson would be
touching them, would be feeling them, and, oh man, smelling them?

   Mr.  Peters admonished the first boy, as he was clearly hoarding them.
"Keep them moving boys.  Let everyone have an opportunity to consider
Clorette's panties." He returned to Clorette, still submissively bent over
his desk, her pink buttercup pointed back toward her classmates.

   "Now, students, and guests, quite often when the girl is bent over the
desk like this one can also get a very nice presentation of her little
darling rosebud." There was a bit of smirks and giggling over that.  "But,
Clorette has such a tightly taut teeny tush that you really can't see into
her crack."

   Well, thought Clorette, that's at least something.  At least one part of
her was to be kept private.

   "Clorette, why don't you open it up for the class, for everyone to see.
Just reach back and spread your cheeks.  I think we would all like to see
it, wouldn't we?"

   "Oh yes, Mr.  Peters," Billy Thompson suddenly exclaimed, although
quickly fearing that he should not have spoken up at all.  He didn't
particularly want the sound of his voice to be heard on the tape, nor did
he want to do anything that would draw attention to himself, particularly
to his erection.  The sound of a few chuckles could be heard.

   "Well, yes, William, I do appreciate your enthusiasm at seeing little
Miss Clorette's anus.  Are you particularly interested in girl's anuses?"

   This was precisely why he shouldn't have said anything.  The chuckling
got a bit louder.

   "No sir, I mean, well, they're okay, I guess." He really didn't know
what to say, and his rather feeble answer drew even some open laughter.

   Clorette, though, took no pleasure in the attention being shifted to
Billy, or even that he was now being embarrassed.  It was, after all, her
butt hole that was the focus of his comments and, apparently, deep
interest.

   "Yes, well, don't let it trouble you, William.  A cute girl's little
puckered rosebud can be a delight to the eye." He turned his attention back
to Clorette.  "Please, Clorette, yes, open yourself up for the class. 
Spread yourself open so that everyone can see your pretty pink flower."

   Yes, she realized that it could indeed get worse as she reached back,
grabbed hold of her cheeks, and opened up her bottom for everyone to see
deep down inside.  Actually, it wasn't particularly deep as she did have a
rather small tush.  But, that was hardly the point.  She felt like she
could feel the heat of the boys', and the girls', gawking eyes, although it
was probably just from the lamps, now getting full access to the sensitive
nerves of her anus.  Still, she could not even imagine ever doing this for
a boyfriend, let alone for an entire class of boys, and girls, opening up
her bottom cheeks to let everyone take a good look.

   "Oh yes, it is indeed a very pretty one, isn't it, class."

   Nobody said anything, not being sure if it was just a rhetorical
question.  Mr.  Peters turned toward them.  "Is it so pretty it left you
speechless?" He turned to Billy in particular.  "What do you think,
William? Is it as pretty as you imagined it would be?"

   He really, really wished he had kept his mouth shut.  There was really
no right answer to that question, or at least none that wouldn't embarrass
him further.  "Yea, sure, it's, um, it's a real good one." He tried to
pretend like he had seen lots of them.  "Really, one of the best I've
seen." It didn't work.  His remark was again met with giggles, some of the
girls wondering if he had a collection of girls' anus pictures.

   Mr.  Peters could see that William was a bit embarrassed at the
attention.  It was not his interest to discipline William.  He was, after
all, not the one with his pants down, at least not yet.  He tried to help
him out of his predicament.  "Well, yes, William, I must agree.  I have as
well seen quite a few and indeed," turning back to Clorette, "I think it's
a really very cute one."

   He spoke directly to Clorette.  "Have you ever taken a boy up your butt,
Clorette?"

   She instantly let go of her cheeks, as if she was thinking he was about
to try to do just that.  She said quite assertively, "Oh my goodness, no,
Mr.  Peters!" She did not, though, turn her head back to face him.  She
didn't want anyone to see how red her face was, nor did she want to look
any of the boys in the eye, if perhaps she could in fact see their eyes
through the glare of the spotlights blazing into her exposed anus.

   "Oh my, well, that's a shame.  I think a young gentleman would really
appreciate the opportunity." Mr.  Peters turned back to Billy.  "I imagine
our young Mr.  Thompson would like a go at it." There was again some
laughter.  Mr.  Peters just couldn't help himself.

   Sandy had taken the opportunity of everyone being so completely
mesmerized by the sight of Clorette spreading open her cheeks to more
openly massage, ply, and rub Mr.  Stratton's erection through his slacks.
He did not object nor resist.  Not too many professors would object to a
young, attractive coed playing with his cock in the dark, particularly
while he was gazing upon the very sexy sight of another pretty girl
spreading open her cheeks.  He did though glance to his side to see if Miss
Pepperidge was at all suspicious.  As soon as he turned to look, she
quickly glanced away.

   Miss Pepperidge was herself feeling quite confused.  On the one hand,
she did feel sorry for Clorette.  She could see that the girl was
embarrassed at having to display herself like that.  On the other hand, she
was feeling very terribly warm between her thighs.

   It was no accident that she was interested in the methods of the New
School, as she was not entirely inexperienced with respect to the art, and
play, of spanking, although she had been quite deprived of its fun over the
past few years.

   Actually, only one prior boyfriend had ever shared her interest: Larry
Kroger.  They had not been together long.  He had been given an offer from
Wellesley he could not refuse.  But their brief fling may have provided the
best sex she had ever experienced, and the memory of that wonderful albeit
abbreviated time with Larry was flooding back into a visceral memory as she
had watched Clorette get her paddling.  She was in fact even feeling a bit
jealous of Clorette.  She recalled when Larry one time even spanked her in
public, at a shopping mall.  They were sitting on a couch in one of the
rest areas and he suddenly just pulled her over his lap, flipped up her
skirt, and started paddling her.  They had talked about doing that many
times, and apparently he finally found the courage.  She gladly went along
with it, flaying her legs and protesting loudly about how embarrassing it
was for everyone to see her panties and how terrible it was to spank her
like that, all the time enjoying the fact that everyone could indeed see
her sheer pink panties.  Frankly, if she had known he was going to do that
she wouldn't have worn any panties at all!  They had such heated sex when
they got back to their car.

   Miss Pepperidge let out a deep sigh as she recalled the past romance,
causing Mr.  Stratton to look her way.  When he turned to her she quickly
turned her face away, worried that he would see the flushed, aroused
expression on her face.  Thank goodness the room was dark.

   Sandy whispered, "Would you like to see Clorette's panties, Mr. 
Stratton?"

   "What?" He looked down to see the girl who had been fondling his penis
holding up Clorette's panties.  They had finally made their way that far
down the column of desks.

   It was a very pretty sight.  Sandy was in fact quite attractive.  She
had large round pretty eyes, with very nice lashes, long curly red hair,
freckles, round cheeks, and a very sparkling smile.  The fact that she was
holding up a pair of white panties for him to inspect might have biased his
judgment though.  In fact, she held the panties so that they were draped
over and hiding her right hand, which she had now turned toward him and was
fully squeezing and fondling his cock through his slacks, the activity
though hidden by the panty curtain.

   "No, no, that's fine," Mr.  Stratton replied, his voice a bit
breathless. Actually, he would really like to see them, to feel them.  But,
it would be a bit awkward to be inspecting, admiring, a young lady's
panties with Miss Pepperidge standing right next to him.  He would have to
think that she would find that to be rather inappropriate.  Plus, he kind
of liked where they were right now, hiding his cock, and Sandy's hand, from
view.

   "Are you sure, Mr.  Stratton," Sandy pursued, giving him a very sweet,
innocent smile as well as a firm squeeze, along with a subtle stroking,
while still circling her thumb around and around the rounded tip of his
knob.  "They really are very nice panties."

   "No, no, that's fine." Her thumb felt so good caressing his swollen
bulb. He turned to Miss Pepperidge.  "Would you like to see Clorette's
panties?" His face reddened as soon as the words left his mouth.  It was an
appropriate question, at least at the moment, but it did feel rather
awkward to be speaking to Miss Pepperidge about a girl's panties, even
asking her if she wanted to look at them.

   Miss Pepperidge just shook her head.  She could use something to dab her
brow, but Clorette's panties would not really be appropriate for that. 
And, in any case, she felt quite uncomfortable about taking a pair of
girl's panties from her colleague, Mr.  Stratton.

   He turned back to Sandy and whispered, "Just pass them on."

   Sandy smiled back and whispered, even more softly as she gave him a very
big squeeze, "Mine are in fact much prettier." She let go of his penis and
turned to pass Clorette's panties to the girl sitting to the left of her.

   Mr.  Stratton's clipboard effectively blocked the view of Miss
Pepperidge and there were no students behind Sandy.  The only student who
could actually see Mr.  Stratton, or more accurately his stiff dick, was
the girl sitting just to the left of Sandy.  Her attention was fully on
Clorette in the front of the class but once Sandy turned to hand her
Clorette's panties, she did look in the direction of Mr.  Stratton and he
quickly shifted the clipboard so that it fully covered him.  He couldn't
leave it there long without it looking rather awkward, but she didn't look
in his direction for long.  Once she returned her attention back to the
front of the class, Mr.  Stratton returned the clipboard to its original
position, and Sandy could, once again, do pretty much whatever she wanted
with the bulge in his pants, as long as the girl didn't look over again. 
Sandy smiled mischievously.

   Mr.  Peters said, "Now, let's explore some other positions for
disciplinary spanking.  Clorette, you can stand up now."

   She was very grateful for that, as her skirt fell back over her bottom.
But, it wouldn't be there for long.

   Mr.  Peters continued his instruction.  "Of course, you might not in
fact have a desk for the girl to bend over.  This is not really a
disadvantage as there are quite a few positions that are more instructive
and more revealing, that don't require a desk.  Clorette, if you wouldn't
mind, step back from the desk a couple of paces and place your hands on
your knees."

   Clorette did as she was told, backing up toward the class, and then
bending over, placing her hands on her knees.

   "This is, of course, a very traditional position.  It's very useful in
helping the young lady to develop self-discipline, as she is typically
instructed to not remove her hands from her knees while she receives her
spanking."

   Mr.  Peters flipped up Clorette's skirt, raising the curtain once again,
her little pink moon coming back into view after its momentary eclipse. 
Just beneath it there was a little delicious slice of soft white pie, cut
down the middle by the delicate slit.

   Billy's eyes widened in delight, as Clorette or, more accurately, her
personal private parts, were now just inches in front of his desk, in front
of his eyes.  He could in fact reach out and touch her bottom, if he
wished, and he so wished very much.  It was like when he was a little boy
and there was a fresh batch of muffins, just out of the oven.  He wanted so
much to reach out and grasp, taste, that hot little red muffin and now
there was an even tastier one just inches way.  Maybe he could get a taste
of that tart pie as well?  But, as a young man he now had enough
self-control to resist the temptation.

   Smack!

   "Yip!" Clorette squealed.  She had known it was coming but she still
wasn't ready for it.  But she did keep her hands on her knees.

   Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!

   Her bottom wiggled and waved before Billy's eyes.  It was like she was
doing a little dance, personally for him.  He reached down and shifted his
hard cock.  He knew that he might be noticed but it just had to be done. 
He even considered leaving his hand there, but he knew if he did that it
would not be long before he came in his slacks.

   Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!  Smack!

   "Mr.  Peters!" Clorette exclaimed.

   He stopped.  Again, he didn't really want to inflict any real pain. 
This spanking was, after all, for demonstration purposes only.  As he
explained, "That appears to be enough, for now.  I just thought that the
pinkness was wearing off there a bit." He patted Clorette's bottom with
fatherly reassurance.  "One does want to keep the bloom on the rose, and it
is such a very pretty flower."

   "And, I want to add," he said to the class, "notice how Clorette kept
her hands on her knees.  Never once did she try to reach back to protect
herself, to cover or hide herself." He again patted her bottom, this time
with more appreciation, and perhaps even some affection.  "She is indeed a
very good little girl."

   Clorette instinctively looked back and up toward Mr.  Peters and
replied, "Thank-you, sir," perhaps forgetting for the moment that she was
showing off her pussy and bum to the class.  It was always so nice to be
told that you were indeed a good little girl and, at the moment, his
fatherly pats on her bottom did feel rather nice.

   Mr.  Peters rested his hand on the soft, warm, little bum and even gave
it an endearing squeeze.  Clorette had such a squeezably soft buns.  If it
wasn't for the class, he would spend more time enjoying this very tempting
derriere.  "Well, it's well deserved, dear." He returned to the matter at
hand.

   "Now, the hands on the knees is very traditional, but you can also have
her reach down and touch her toes.  Clorette, if you wouldn't mind."

   Clorette did indeed mind, but how could she refuse, or even object,
after he had been so complimentary?  She wanted to continue to be a good
girl and really couldn't disobey now.  And, after all, he, as a professor,
did know what was best.  She bent over further, stretching herself out, to
touch her toes.

   A gasp could be heard sweeping through the class as Clorette's bottom
stretched out and open, her cunnie rising up, peeking out, perhaps even
protruding out from between her tightly clenched thighs.  Billy slipped a
book into his lap so that he could use his hand beneath it, surreptitiously
touching, squeezing, stroking himself.  He just had to do it, at least for
a bit.

   "This position is, as you can so readily see, much more revealing. 
Clorette's apple cheeks are spreading out on their own.  You can see her
pretty little anus winking and blinking."

   It might not have been winking before, but his calling attention to it
did cause Clorette to try to squeeze her sphincter shut, as if by doing so
one couldn't actually see it.  However, by squeezing and squirming she was
only drawing more attention to it, making it wink and blink as Mr.  Peters
said.