Spanked by My Clarinet Teacher

"Isabelle," said Mister Adler sternly, "you are late again."

"Sorry, sir," I said, quickly opening my clarinet case. I put the instrument together, a reed soaking in my mouth.

"What is this?" he asked, lifting a bit of my blouse that I hadn't tucked in properly. "Make yourself presentable before you come to my house. You are a college girl, Isabelle, you'd better start acting like it."

"Sorry sir." I tucked my blouse in properly, adjusting my maroon cashmere sweater and my black velvet skirt for good measure.

"Is your reed ready? Good. Play the 32nd practice exercise in your book for me."

I flipped to the correct page and began to play.

"Stop, stop!" cried Mister Adler. "This is not good. You are sightreading. You were supposed to practice, Isabelle, how many times must I tell you?"

"Sorry, sir," I said, staring at my shoes. "I- I really am trying, it's just--"

"I do not want excuses, Isabelle, I want results. I have half a mind to bend you over my knee and teach you the old fashioned way."

"Sorry, sir, please."

"Please what?"

"Please don't spank me."

"You have one more chance. If anything, and I mean anything, goes wrong tomorrow, you will be sorry, young lady."

"Yes sir," I said solemnly.

***

That night, laying in my dorm bed under the covers, I couldn't help but think about Mister Adler bending me over his knee.

I pictured myself in today's outfit standing in his living room. I imagined him bending me over, my skirt falling awkwardly, his hand making first stinging contact with my bottom.

I realized my girldick was throbbing at just the thought of it.

Embarassed by this revelation, I flipped over and tried to fall asleep

***

The next day, I made sure I had everything in order. I had my music, my music stand, extra reeds, I had practiced, and I was on track to arrive 5 minutes early.

I checked my outfit before knocking on his door. I made sure my white collared blouse was tucked in, I made sure my little, light blue, button-up cardigan was not inside out, and I made sure my navy skirt was laying properly.

I looked cute, hopefully that would appease Mister Adler's temper a little.

The image I had imagined the night before flashed across my mind, but I shoved it aside.

I knocked.

Mister Adler opened the door.

"Isabelle, what a pleasant surprise! You're early."

"Yes, sir, I didn't want to cause any trouble this time."

"You look very pretty dear. Come inside and put your clarinet together."

I began to follow him inside, shutting the door behind me, but something about his words caught my attention.

I froze in the entryway. "My clarinet!"

Mister Adler composed himself for a moment, before saying "You forgot your clarinet?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mister Adler. You're not going to--"

"Yes, Isabelle, I am," he said sternly. He grabbed me by the arm and led me over to his usual seat.

I was hard and throbbing by the time he had me over his knee. I hoped desperately he couldn't feel how turned on I was.

He lifted my skirt, resting a strong hand against the contours of my butt. "I want you to count for me, sweetheart."

"Yes sir," I said, my voice coming out equal parts excited and nervous.

He raised his hand and struck me hard.

"Ow! One."

"Good girl. Keep counting."

"Mmm, two!"

"That's it, just accept it, you're going to be here for a while."

"Mmf, three."

We continued like this until I had counted to 25 and my girldick had grown soppingly wet in my panties.

"Could I be excused for a moment?" I asked breathlessly, "I need to use your bathroom."

"Make it quick, Isabelle."

I scurried off to the bathroom, my hands shaking as I closed the door. I pulled my skirt up and looked down at my white cotton panties. They were soaked through with a big wet splotch, but I hadn't come.

I closed my eyes and touched myself through my panties, lightly at first and then almost desperately.

There was a knock at the door, and then it opened. I froze.

"Isabelle, what in God's name do you think you're doing?"

I opened my mouth, only managing to get out a few uninteligable syllables.

He took me by the arm once more and dragged me into the living room, back to his chair.

"Lift your skirt," he said.

Shakily, I did so.

Putting one hand on my girldick through my panties, he laid me down with the other.

The feeling of his warm hand just holding my penis while the other traced lightly across my bottom was almost too much to bear.

He struck me suddenly, the surprise and pain causing me to buck my hips deliciously into his hand.

He struck me again, and again, and again, keeping a good rhythm. I half whimpered, half moaned. My body shuddered and pleasure exploded through me, only amplified by the pain in my bright red cheeks. I soaked my panties and his hand.

I ground myself into him a few more times and then went limp in his lap, letting him play lightly with my stinging bottom as I fell into a deep and peaceful slumber.