PicTales: The Rumor

Three pages of neatly stacked white paper waited on the desk. Four problems posed on the first page and three on each subsequent page comprised the entirety of the test. Ten problems, twenty minutes, two minutes per problem equals plenty of time provided you know the steps to solve the problems. It was this last part which proved to be the real problem. Hence, one large problem spread over three pages, ten problems and twenty minutes equals not enough time and one, strike that, two red and sore backsides.

I stared and blinked at the white pages. My mind remained blank, remarkably blanker than the paper sitting before me. Repeatedly, I sharpened my pencil followed by twirling and fidgeting of the same pencil in my sweaty hands, my thumb inevitably snapping the sharpened graphite from its soft wood shell. I shifted from side to side in my seat.

Time ran out. My pencil fell flat. The pages remained as they were, crisply stacked, neatly blank. Trepidation churned in my empty stomach. I watched his slow, precise movement through the classroom. His steady hands collecting and stapling each student's exam into individually identifiable packets. Row by row, desk by desk, student by student, he collected the final results, without pause. His eyes saw everything and nothing. My foot tapped impatiently, nervously, beneath my desk. I hoped he would not notice, I anticipated he would.

The rumors were well spread. They come from sources both reputable and not. He did nothing to dissuade the believers and nothing to convince the cynics. It was all very private, very hushed and yet the rumors persisted. Soon, I would know the truth or at least suspect it with more certainty than I had before. Fate had been tempted and all that remained was for fate to take the dangled bait.

I listened to the hum of the overhead florescent lights. The gentle sound calmed my heightened nerves. I questioned my sanity. Deliberately sabotaging myself was far from the smartest thing to have done. We had discussed it in detail, searched for alternatives and in the end we had arrived at the same conclusion. It was the only way and we would of course do it together so there would be corroboration for our newspaper article. We believed there was safety in numbers, the risks were worth the rewards, but sitting at my empty desk, waiting for the consequences, I wondered if we were wrong.

His eyes bore into me. It felt as if he knew all my secrets as he kept us after class. The room emptied. Our fellow students filed out the door with smirks firmly plastered on the male faces and our own sex surreptitiously giggled at our imminent fate. The door slammed itself closed with as soft hydraulic hiss, feeling more like the metal clang sealing a prison cell. I sat tensely still in my desk attempting to appear relaxed. He leaned back in his chair, a faint upturn at the corners of his dry lips and his hands folded in his lap beneath the desk, out of view. My friend shuddered, looking away from him and seeking strength to persevere within my eyes. If only I had it to share.

I felt my chest heave with every breath, his eyes enjoying the rippling of my white cotton blouse. Excited by the attention, by the movement, my nipples hardened and my face blushed with embarrassment. He smiled as if he knew my every thought, every impulse and there was a greediness to his eyes as they shamelessly wandered over my school uniform. The standard length of my skirt, seemingly too long when I fastened it in place in the morning, now felt revealingly too short. I felt the cool kiss of circulating air against my thighs. My knees clamped together, desperate to hide even the slightest glimpse of anything beneath my skirt.

He strode across the front of the classroom, his gait fast and deliberate. His fingers firmly grasped an unbroken length of white chalk. I watched, paralyzed by apprehension. He drafted the problem, the first on the exam, with inhuman precision on the green board. Finished, he tossed the chalk back to its home with careless disregard. His body swung around on polished heels to face us, his eyes darting between us, making his preference known as they lingered on my bosom.

"Solve it," He said. His voice was brusque, his tone stern. His gaze fell to his wrist watch. "You have one minute."

I looked to my friend. She looked to me. We looked to him, uncertain of what he expected. Impatience spread from his eyes to his cheeks and his thin smile faded. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the chalk board in the corner. "Forty-five seconds," He said.

Together, we scrambled for the board. The chalk snapped in half as we each grappled for it. I willed my brain to recall the lessons. I stared at the board as fear consumed me and left my mind a blank. My friend's shaking hand dragged the chalk across the board in an attempt to do something, anything. Her method was erratic and nonsensical. Desperate, she scribbled an answer beneath the problem. Knowing she was wrong, I ridiculously hoped she was right.

"Time is up," He said. His lips lingered in the air between our ears. The smile returned to his face. He shook his head gently from side to side looking at the bad math written on the board. Grabbing my friend by the wrist he gazed deeply into her eyes, silencing even the barest thoughts of protest before they reach her quivering lips. Turning his attention briefly to me, he said, "Your friend will buy you one more minute. I suggest you make the most of it."

I watched in horror as he led my friend away to a nearby desk. He pulled the bench out and sat down with her standing nervously in front of him. Her eyes expanded in fear as shook her head pleadingly. His hand patted the top of his lap and with an almost friendly smile he pulled her to him. Unable to focus, I looked on as she allowed herself to be laid over his lap, her skirt riding up to expose the vulnerable white flesh of her thighs. He slapped his hand down onto the flimsy material of her school skirt. Her body shuddered with the impact, legs twitching behind her. He slapped her butt again.

"Unless you want to be next, you'll solve the problem," He said, pausing in his spanking just long enough to look at me.

I stared mutely, watching him lift the hem of her skirt and toss it high up on her back. His hand rested atop her exposed black panties. In a methodical circular motion he rubbed the silky material of her panties and the reddening skin they were meant to protect. Her hand resting on the floor by his foot, my friend looked up at me. The spanking resumed, his hand bouncing from cheek to cheek. She kicked and squirmed on his lap. He held her in place and gave no respite. I forced myself to turn away and make an attempt at the problem posed on the board.

Too soon for me, the spanking stopped. The loud slaps of his hand against her cushioned flesh echoed into silence and I felt the glare of his steel gaze on the small of my back. I dared not turn around to look. The chalk remained unused in my hand, the board as vacant of a solution as my brain a logical thought. I listened to the sounds of my friend clambering to her feet. The snap of elastic followed by my friend's moan elicited an image of lowered panties and a tucked up skirt. Unable to resist the urge, I glanced back to see the reality.

"It seems you wanted a turn," He said, his cheek brushing against my hair and his breath warming my earlobe and neck.

My eyes slipped closed. I inhaled a deep breath and shuddered from head to toe. His hand grasped the chalk from mine and tossed it aside into the tray. Firmly grabbing my wrist he pulled me along with him on the short journey to the empty bench. My friend watched without a word. Her hands slipped behind her to rub away at her burning, bare flesh. He sat down and pulled me close to him.

"Two minutes," He said, pointing at the chalkboard and looking at my friend.

I gasped at the length. She scurried to the board. In a daze, I laid over his lap. Nothing felt real, not his hand resting on my skirt, nor his hardness pressing against me from below. The first slap of his hand against my bubbly flesh sent ripples through my body. I blinked at the floor. The second slap echoed in my ears. My eyelids lowered and I focused on the growing tingle. The ripples of his spanks continued to flow through me, waves of pain overlapping with terse excitement.

The rhythm of spanks ceased. Stillness washed over me. His hand lifted my skirt and tucked the hem into the waistband. The coolness of his hand rubbing against my heated buttocks sent a shiver coursing through my spine. Pushing my butt against his hand, I moaned for more. His fingertips slipped inside the elastic of my panties and slid them over my inflamed skin and down my twitching thighs. He rested a gentle, supportive hand on my back and enjoyed his unobstructed view. I wriggled my naked backside in the cool classroom air. His palm patted approvingly against the curve of my right buttock.

"Up," He said, pulling me from my resting place on his lap.

The two minutes he promised my friend were far from over. I waited nervously, standing in front of him. His eyes wandered the length of my body, appraising me and my form. I held my breath. My muscles tensed. He smiled with greedy eyes. I glanced at my friend's back. Frantically she worked away at the problem on the board, ignoring everything happening behind her. He shook his head at me.

"You've been a bad, bad girl," He said, waving his index finger in my direction. I stood mute.

"Take it off," He said, his eyes scanning over me from head to toe. My eyes grew wide with apprehension. Nervously, I asked, "What?" The answer was blatantly clear, expressed by the look in his eyes. I trembled, waiting for the words he would voice, confirming my worst fear.

"Everything," He said.

The single utterance sent a tingle of panicked excitement shooting through my veins. My face burned bright and hot, images of standing naked flooding before my eyes. His own excitement pressed hard against his slacks. He sat waiting, unabashedly grinning from ear to ear. I squirmed in his spotlight, embarrassed by his groping gaze.

In mild protest, I said, "But you can't."

"With a single call I can have you placed on academic probation," He said.

I said, "My parents won't care."

"Are you certain?" He asked and I nodded emphatically. "That is unfortunate however, I can say with certainty your scholarship most certainly will mind."

My eyes widened with horror. The rumors were all true. He was manipulative. My fate rested in his sinister hands and he knew it all too well. He levied the threat with practiced ease, drawing me into his trap and snapping the cage closed with the only way out, jumping through the hoops of his devious little maze.

"That's right," He said smiling wider by the second, "they'll cancel your scholarship. So you see, you will do anything and everything I tell you to do from this moment on."

I looked down at myself. My hands raised themselves, shaking with outrage and defeat. The buttons on my blouse slipped undone, one by one. The clasp on my skirt came free with a pinch and the flimsy material fell to the floor around my feet. I slipped out of the stiff cotton blouse and let it fall as well. His eyes swept over the newly exposed flesh, anxious for more. I made him wait, removing my shoes and socks before slipping my lowered panties off my legs and then lastly unclasping my bra to fall atop the pile of discarded clothing at my feet.

He stood up and brushed my hair back behind my shoulders ensuring himself and unobstructed view of my breasts. His hands brushed over them, exciting my nipples once more and sending a shudder down to my toes. Taking a firm hold of my arm he guided me to the front desk next to chalkboard. He pushed me down onto the narrow bench where the edges of the hard wood bit into my spanked flesh. I forced myself to breath through the shock.

He slapped a blank test down in front of me. I stared at the problems and wished I had taken a few minutes to study the formulas the night before. My friend glanced back at the sound of his tapping finger on the desktop. Her eyes bulged before she quickly turned her attention back to the board. I looked up at him and his devious smile.

"You have ten minutes to finish the test and if you don't get at least half of them correct, I will cane you," He said, his eyes glancing to the cane hanging off the chalkboard's tray on the last word. The horror of sitting naked, taking a test with a burning red backside, paled in comparison to the new threat. Panic constricted my throat and my mind remained empty of answers and the path to them. All I could think about was the cane, innocuously hanging off to the side, waiting to be used on my naked butt.

"Class dismissed," He said, waking me from my daydreams and bring a fresh flush to my cheeks.

My classmates rumbled from their desks toward the exit as I scrambled to pack up my book and notebook. I caught his eye looking at me and pretended not to notice. The door closed behind the last of my classmates. He came to stand next to me, the two of us alone. I could feel his eyes looking through me, feel his breath washing over me.

"Sit down," He said.

Nervously I looked up at him. His face was impassive. My breath caught in my throat and I trembled, complying with his instruction. We were alone, utterly, completely alone. I stared at the desk and hoped the rumors were...

"I'm very disappointed in you," He said.