This story is based on the following picture…

Miss Muffy Uppercrust sat glumly in Prof. James Tweedy’s calculus class, staring in dismay at her midterm exam. The big red “F” covered the entire first page. She knew she was failing the course, there was no chance of passing now. She also knew she’d be suspended from the cheerleading team with a failing grade. And grad school... she could just forget it. Why hadn’t she studied, she thought to herself. Why did she have to party till the wee hours with an important exam the next day? But wait, Tweedy had penciled in “See me!” at the bottom of the page and underlined it twice. Maybe there was hope...

After class she stood hesitantly in front of Tweedy’s office door, exam in hand. Dweeby Tweedy, his students called him, a stereotype of the stuffy math prof right down to his horn-rimmed spectacles, walrus mustache, and ever-present pipe. Still, some of the other girls said he had an eye for a well-turned female form. She was wearing one of her short tartan skirts, high socks, and a tight sweater, the uniform of Omega Tau Kappa. Maybe if she used all her considerable feminine “assets”, even maybe squeezed out a few tears... well, here goes nothing, she thought. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

“Come... har-rumph... come in”, the reedy voice answered from within. She slowly opened the heavy door a little way and peered in. Tweedy was behind his big oak desk, which was buried as always under piles of assignments, journals, and books. He was lighting his pipe, squinting over his glasses at her. “Ah, yes, Ms. Uppercrust... I’ve been expecting you. Well, come in, come in, and close the door behind you!”

She does as she is told, slowly walks in, trying to look shy and vulnerable. Tweedy gestures toward a chair in front of the desk and she sits down, rather carelessly, showing him a lot of leg. She sees his eyes drop to her hemline, then go up to her bosom, finally at her face. “Uh... ahem... your exam... I wanted to discuss your exam with you. You know you’re failing my class, don’t you?” “Yes, sir,” she mumbles with downcast eyes. “I’m very disappointed in you, young lady”, Tweedy continues. “I know you’re capable of doing the work. You’re not applying yourself. It’s just laziness. Poor study habits and lack of self-discipline.” “I know”, she says quietly. “Young people these days!” Tweedy rambles on. “Just want to have fun! Don’t want to work for anything!” He leans back in his chair, shaking his head, puffing on his pipe.

She looks up pleadingly at him, a tear rolling down her cheek. “Oh, please, Professor Tweedy! I just can’t fail this course! I’ll get kicked off the cheerleading squad! It’ll bring my GPA down to where I won’t get into grad school!” “You should have thought of that”, Tweedy replys, unmoved. She’s really crying now, getting into her own story, wallowing in self-pity. “Oh, please, PLEASE give me another chance... I’ll do anything... I just can’t flunk... oh, boo hooo...

She’s taken out a kleenex and daubing at her eyes. She sees Tweedy’s expression soften, a twinkle come into his eye, as though he’s had an idea. “This is really important to you, isn’t it?” A glimmer of hope. “Oh, yes sir! More important than anything in my life!” “And you’re willing to do anything to get a passing grade?” “Yes! Yes! Anything! Just tell me!”

“Well”, says Tweedy, a sly grin coming over his face, “perhaps we can work out something...”

Muffy Uppercrust could hardly believe her ears. She was going to get another chance after all! But what would she have to? A make-up exam? Extra assignments? Heck, she’d dust erasers to pass!

Tweedy got up from his desk and walked over to a high, backless stool. Something about the smug, self-satisfied look on his face gave Muffy Uppercrust butterflies in her stomach. He seated himself on the stool. “Come here, Ms. Uppercrust, and bring your exam with you”, he said.

She got up slowly and took a few steps toward him. “Closer”, he said. She hesitantly went to within arm’s reach. Tweedy patted his lap. “Over my knee, young lady!” he ordered. “Pro-professor?” she stammered. “Ms. Uppercrust, I said your failing of this course is not due to lack of ability on your part. It’s that you’re not applying yourself. Well, I think I can remedy that. I’m going to apply my hand firmly to your... seat of learning!”

Muffy Uppercrust was aghast. A spanking? She had NEVER been spanked! Well, there was her Omega Tau Kappa initiation - but that didn’t really count. And now, as an adult? So juvenile! So embarassing! “P-professor... a s-spanking? Y-you’re kidding, right? I can’t be - you can’t really spank me! It’s too humiliating! I’d just die!!”

“It’s supposed to be embarassing”, Tweedy said. “And you should be ashamed - ashamed of your performance. But you’re right - I can’t make you take this spanking. You can take your ‘F’ instead, and fail the course.”

Muffy knew he had her - she just couldn’t fail the course if there were any way it could be avoided. She hung her head. “I-I’ll take the s-sp-spanking, professor”, she murmured. “I thought you’d listen to reason”, Tweedy exclaimed with an air of triumph. “Now then, stop your whining and get over my knee, Ms. Uppercrust.”

He takes her hand, pulls her toward him. The stool is high and she has to step on the first rung to get to his level, sliding gingerly over his lap. She remembered now those girls who said Tweedy could be “persuaded” - how they had sat very carefully - now she realized why. She was suspended in mid-air on Tweedy’s lap, his arm holding her firmly. She never felt so self-conscious in her life. She reached back to tug at her short skirt.

Tweedy gave a couple of smart slaps to the seat of her skirt. “Owww...!” “If you’re so concerned about your skirt, Ms. Uppercrust, you should know a ‘skirt dusting’, as I call it, will only earn you a barely passing mark, a ‘D’,” Tweedy said. As he paused a moment, he continued, “If you agree to have your skirt lifted and take a ‘panty warming’, you get a ‘C’.” “O-ok, professor... I can’t settle for a ‘D’.” He flips the little skirt up, revealing matching tartan panties. He continues the spanking with more gusto now - smack! smack! “Oh! Ow! Eee! Uhh!” “On the other hand, if you want a really good grade - a solid B -,” he goes on while spanking steadily, “you must consent to having your panties lowered for a good, old-fashioned bare-bottom spanking.” Bare bottom... the shame. But could it hurt that much more? And with a “B” her GPA should be high enough... “A-all right, Professor Tweedy. I-I want the ‘B’.” He stops. “I knew you’d come around.”

Tweedy slips his hand in the waistband of her panties, lifts her a little with his other arm, and slides them past her round, full butt cheeks, then pulls down on the leg openings, positioning her panties at mid-thigh, framing her pinkening bottom between skirt and panties. She flushes deeply. “Keep your eyes on your exam”, he orders. “I want you to remember why you’re getting this spanking.” SMACK! Muffy Uppercrust could hardly catch her breath. Tweedy had taken out his old slide rule - he scoffed at such “gadgets” as calculators - and was spanking her poor unprotected bottom with it for all he was worth. Immediately she broke down and started kicking and crying, squirming and wriggling. “Took Tweedy for an old softy, didn’t you? Thought you could just bat those big blue eyes and shed a few fake tears and he’d cave right in?” “NOOO! AAAAHHH! PROOOFESSOR... IT HURRRTS! PLEEEZE!” “You naughty, lazy girl”, Tweedy scolds. “Are you going to study harder? Are you going to complete assignments on time?” “OWWW! WHAAA! YESSS! ANYTHING!! BAWWW! I’M SOR-REE HEE HEEE!!” “Promise?” “YES! I PROMISE!! EEEEK! I’LL BE YOUR BEST STUDENT! JUST STOP... BUAAA!!”

Finally Tweedy stops. Muffy Uppercrust lies on James Tweedy’s lap, sobbing her heart out. At last he helps her to her feet. Her panties fall in a puddle around her ankles, but she’s oblivious to them, thinking only of her blazing, brick-red bottom. “Now go stand in the corner and hold your skirt up”, Tweedy orders. “And think about what you’ve learned today.” She shuffles off, sniffling and rubbing her bottom. “Professor...” she finally pouts from the corner. “For such a terrible spanking... I really think I deserve an ‘A’.”

As Tweedy puffs reflectively on his pipe, he says, “An ‘A’? come back tomorrow... we’ll ‘discuss’ it!”

– The End –

Copyright © 2004 Jay. All rights reserved. No repost permitted without the author’s consent.

This story was written by Hay, who kindly allowed me to host it on my web site. Please note that my usual disclaimers do not necessarily apply to this story, as it was not written by myself.