The Professor's Forbidden Punishment 1
I never meant to cheat.
I really didn't. I really tried to stop myself but I couldn't and now I'm restless.
The guilt had been gnawing at me for days, like a heavy stone sitting in my stomach. I kept replaying that moment in my head — glancing over at my classmate’s paper during the exam, copying those few answers because I was terrified of failing. I felt disgusted with myself even while I was doing it. I knew it was wrong. I knew I was risking everything. But panic had taken over, and now I was about to face the consequences of my stupid decision.
When finals were approaching, I had been barely hanging on in Professor Kane’s literature class. My scholarship depended on maintaining a high GPA, and this course was my biggest struggle. One moment of weakness, and here I was.
The campus was nearly empty on Friday evening as I made my way up to his office on the top floor of the literature building. My hands were cold and clammy. Each step felt heavier than the last. When I reached his door, I took a deep breath before knocking softly.
“Come in.”
Professor Alexander Kane was leaning against the front of his large oak desk when I entered. He looked as intimidating as ever — thirty-four years old, tall with broad shoulders, sharp jawline, and those intense dark eyes that always made students nervous. His black button-up shirt had the sleeves rolled up, revealing strong, veined forearms. The scent of his cologne mixed with old books filled the room.
“Lock the door, Emily,” he said, his voice calm but authoritative.
Wait… why would I need to do that. Whatever, I'm too scared to focus on anything else right now. Was I caught.
I obeyed, my heart hammering wildly in my chest. He picked up my exam paper from the desk and held it out to me. The red circles on several answers were impossible to ignore — identical to the girl who had been sitting right next to me.
“You know what this means,” he continued quietly. “This is academic dishonesty. The university policy is very clear. You could fail this class… or face suspension. Possibly even expulsion if they decide to make an example out of you.”
Tears immediately filled my eyes. My voice came out shaky. “Professor Kane… please. I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to cheat. I felt horrible the entire time I was doing it. I was just so scared of failing and losing my scholarship. I didn’t feel like I had any other choice. I’ll do anything to fix this. Extra credit assignments, retaking the entire exam, community service… anything. Please don’t ruin my future over one mistake.”
He watched me silently for a long moment, studying my face. Then he slowly walked around the desk until he was standing directly in front of me. He was so tall that I had to tilt my head up to meet his eyes.
“Anything?” he repeated, his tone softer now, almost gentle. “That’s a dangerous word to use, Emily.”
I nodded desperately, wiping away a tear.
He reached out and gently lifted my chin with two fingers, forcing me to look at him. His touch was warm. “You’re nineteen years old. You’re old enough to understand that every action has consequences. But I’m not an unreasonable man. I believe people deserve second chances… especially bright young women who make one bad decision under pressure.”
My breath caught in my throat as his thumb slowly brushed across my lower lip.
“I can make this entire incident disappear from your record,” he continued, his voice low and persuasive. “No report. No consequences. But it won’t be free. You’ll need to accept my special private tutoring sessions. Three times a week, right here in my office. You will do everything I ask without hesitation. This is the only way I can justify helping you.”
I felt my cheeks burning. “What… what kind of sessions are we talking about, Professor?”
His hand moved down to rest on my waist, pulling me just a little closer. “The kind that will teach you real discipline. Focus. Obedience. And how to properly earn forgiveness.”
Before I could fully process what he meant, his other hand slipped under the hem of my short skirt, fingers gently tracing up my inner thigh. My entire body tensed up immediately.
“Professor… wait,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “This… this can’t be right. Isn’t this against the rules? You’re my teacher. We shouldn’t—”
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Rules exist for students who don’t need extra help, Emily. You crossed a serious line. I’m offering you a private way to make it right. Would you rather I report this and watch your scholarship vanish? Or would you rather let me guide you… personally?”
*Oh my God… this is actually happening. He can’t mean what I think he means… But if I say no, everything is over.*
His fingers reached my panties and brushed against the fabric. I gasped softly. I was already shamefully wet.
“You’re responding to me,” he murmured, sounding satisfied. “Your body knows what it needs, even if your mind is still fighting it. Let me help you, Emily. Let me teach you how to surrender. How to earn what you want.”
He pushed my panties to the side and slowly slid two thick fingers along my slick folds before pressing them inside me. I let out a shaky moan, instinctively gripping his shirt.
“Ahh… Professor Kane…”
“Shhh,” he soothed, but his voice had a firm edge. “Just relax and feel. This is part of your lesson tonight. You need to learn how to let go of control.”
His fingers moved deeper, curling slowly against that sensitive spot inside me. The stretch felt intense and overwhelming. I bit my lip hard, trying to stay quiet even as soft whimpers escaped me. My mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts — *This is so wrong… he’s my professor… but it feels so good… I can’t afford to fail…*
“You’re incredibly tight,” he groaned quietly against my neck. “So responsive. Such a good girl already.”
He began pumping his fingers in a steady, deliberate rhythm while his thumb found my c**t and started rubbing slow circles. My hips twitched against his hand even though shame burned through me. The wet sounds of his fingers moving inside me filled the quiet office.
“Professor… please…” I breathed, voice breaking. “Is this really the only way?”
“Yes,” he whispered, kissing the side of my neck softly. “But I promise you’ll begin to crave these sessions. By the end of the semester, you’ll be begging me for them. Trust me, Emily. Let me take care of you.”
He added a third finger, stretching me wider. The pressure built faster and stronger than I expected. My legs started shaking. I was panting, holding onto his shoulders for support.
“Don’t fight it,” he commanded gently but firmly. “c*m for me. Show me you accept your punishment.”
The orgasm hit me like a wave. I cried out, burying my face in his chest as my p***y clenched hard around his fingers. Pleasure crashed through my body in powerful waves while he kept moving his hand, drawing out every second of it until I was a trembling, dripping, breathless mess against him.
When it finally faded, he slowly pulled his fingers out and brought them up to my lips.
“Open your mouth, Emily.”
I hesitated for only a second before obeying, tasting my own arousal on his skin as I sucked his fingers clean.
Professor Kane smiled with dark satisfaction, his eyes gleaming.
“Good girl. That was only the first lesson. Next time, I won’t be nearly as gentle. I expect you here on Monday at 7 PM sharp. Don’t be late.”
I stood there on shaky legs, adjusting my skirt, my mind completely overwhelmed and spinning.
What had I just agreed to?