Little Sophie and the Professor Read online

  "Yes Sir," squeaked Sophie. She felt a light tap, and then another. Oh the bastard - he was teasing. She knew why - it heightened her senses considerably and also increased her feeling of apprehension and dread at the fearsome sting to come. The taps continued, and each time, Sophie braced herself for a proper stroke, only to receive the gentlest of taps, until ...

  WHACK!

  "Yeoooow!" Sophie shrieked. Oh, that was a proper one all right. Oh boy, did it hurt. "One. Sir."

  Jack took aim and swung the cane a second time.

  WHACK!

  Sophie shrieked again, followed by a pitiful whimper. "Two-oooo!" She knew how hard that damn cane could be, but this was worse than she'd expected.

  Down came the cane again, slicing through the air to land in perfect position on Sophie's bottom.

  WHACK!

  "Owwwww! SHIT!" yelped Sophie. "Th-three Sir." Tears welled up in her eyes as the sting bit.

  "You will receive two more strokes for that disgustingly base language," said Sir sternly.

  "S-sorry Sir," she managed, her bottom burning. She braced herself for the next stroke, though goodness only knows why they were called cane 'strokes' as the impact was nothing like a stroke.

  WHACK!

  "Yeeooow!" This one made her leap into the air, her knickers falling down to her ankles to land in an ungainly green puddle. Sophie kicked them away. She desperately wanted to reach round to rub but knew it wasn't allowed. "Four Sir," she exhaled.

  There then followed another teasing little tap. She jumped at the soft touch. Obviously expecting more. Jack grinned and held the cane against her buttocks for several seconds before taking the next swing. Sophie arched her back, thrusting out her bottom further. What was it about the cane. She loved it. She hated it. It was dreadful at the time, but afterwards ... already she was feeling the after effects of the sting as it made the butterflies jump around in her tummy.

  WHACK!

  "Five Sir!" Sophie yelled out, before lapsing and wailing, "Owowow," as she waved her bottom lewdly from side to side.

  Jack eyed the spectacle appreciatively. Five red lines were imprinted on her jiggling bottom. He decided to go lower for the next hit.

  WHACK!

  Sophie emitted a strangled noise that sounded nothing like a number,

  "What was that?"

  "Oh! Ow! It was six! Six Sir," puffed Sophie.

  "Very well. And now for the final two."

  WHACK!

  "Yikes!" Sophie hopped about, first on one leg, then on the other. "Seven Sir," she wailed, immeasurably glad that there was only one left to go. Her poor rump was roasted. It felt like it was on fire.

  Jack looked at her bottom. It was decoratively patterned with seven vivid lines. But he hadn't caned her hard - hard enough for her to feel it, but not hard enough to leave lasting marks. They would be gone in a few hours time. Even so, she would find it mighty uncomfortable sitting on the hard wooden chair.

  The cane tapped again on Sophie's cheeks. Once. Twice. And then ...

  WHACK!

  "EIGHT Sir! OWWW!"

  "Now what do you say?"

  "Thank you, Sir." Her hands automatically went to her burning seat in an attempt to rub the sting away. Ouch! That last one hurt like hell.

  "Now you may pull up your knickers and sit." Sir indicated the wooden chair.

  Sophie winced as she pulled the hateful bottle-green contraption up over her sore bottom, but she winced even more when she sat down on the hard seat.

  "Right, young lady. In your desk you will find pen and paper. I want you to write 100 lines."

  "Oh Sir." Sophie's face fell. This was really like being back at school. She watched as Jack picked up a piece of chalk and wrote on the blackboard: I will not be late for school again. I will always be punctual for Professor Drummond's class.

  "One hundred times," repeated Jack. He hid a smile as Sophie shuffled about uncomfortably on the hard chair. "In your best handwriting. No mistakes now, or you'll start all over again."

  Mean old Daddy, thought Sophie. But she took the pen and began writing out the lines. After the first twenty or so she cursed herself for wanting to do this as part of the scene. She had given no thought to the fact that she would be sitting down so soon after her caning. Her bottom throbbed. She wrote a few more lines and squirmed uncomfortably. And yet, though the pain was still there, it had dissipated already, leaving her with that now all too familiar warm glow. She looked up. He was watching her. Their eyes met in understanding. Sophie knew she must finish the lines without complaint, so she did exactly that, knowing he would be pleased with her efforts.

  He was.

  "Good girl," he said as he scanned her papers. "Now then, before class is dismissed, I think your good efforts with the completion of 100 word perfect lines has earned you a reward. Don't you?" he said huskily.

  "Oh yes Sir, a very big reward," she said, eyeing the bulge that was revealed as his gown parted.

  "And what sort of reward would my special little girl like?" He stood before her as wordlessly, she reached for his zipper.

  "I want to suck Sir's lollipop," she said eagerly, unzipping him, unwrapping the goodies.

  "Do you now. Ahhhh ..." He held her head and guided her down as her busy tongue licked the length of his shaft, then he groaned in pleasure as she worked up to the tip, flicking her tongue so expertly over the swollen, throbbing head of his penis.

  Sophie sucked as her hands caressed his balls, and soon he was as far in her mouth as she could manage, groaning out his need as he thrust, cumming hard and fast.

  "Mmm, what a good girl you can be," he murmured eventually.

  Sophie nodded, proud of herself at servicing him just the way he liked it. Then with a little yelp she found herself lifted up and on her back on the big teacher's desk. He yanked off her knickers and positioned her so that her bottom was right on the very edge of the desk, and then he raised both her legs, and spread them wide, revealing her sex.

  Sophie blushed at being placed in such a humiliating pose but all thoughts of embarrassment disappeared as his tongue teased the sensitive area of her thighs, slowly moving up to tease her labia, then her needy clit. She whimpered, desperate for more, and when he pushed his finger up inside her while simultaneously flicking her clit with his tongue, she screeched out her release, bucking and jerking as he brought her to a screaming orgasm that left her drained and blissfully satiated.

  "So," he said later, "how did you enjoy being the naughty schoolgirl?"

  "It was great fun. I was completely taken aback when I saw what you'd done to the dining room. And you were so stern. I know I giggled at your funny old mortarboard, but after that I really felt in role."

  "You were great." He deposited a kiss on the end of her nose. "And the caning?"

  "Oh boy, did it hurt! Well it did at the time. But afterwards..." She grinned. "Afterwards was best of all."

  She stood compliant as he undressed her for her bath. This had become a ritual on the nights she stayed with him - which was more often than not. She loved this feeling of being pampered and cared for, and raised her arms so that he could pull off her gymslip, swiftly followed by her remaining clothes. Then it was into the tub, filled with lovely hot water and a cloud of scented bubbles.

  Jack picked up a cloth and began soaping her back, and then her front, paying attention to all her little nooks and crannies, and when she was clean and scrubbed pink, he lifted her out and dried her with a soft towel. After that he gave her a liberal dusting of talcum powder and produced the night clothes he'd selected for her.

  "Not that you need any, but you just look so damned cute in these things," he said, moving closer with a Hello Kitty nightshirt in his hands. "Arms up. Let's slip this on, little one."

  Jack thought the nightshirt was an excellent choice as it rode up high and gave him access to areas of special interest to him.

  But there was no more lovemaking that night. Sophie just enjoyed his cuddles. She just
loved snuggling up and falling asleep cradled in his arms. One thing was for sure ... she was fast falling in love with Professor Jack Drummond. He was so tender and loving and kind ... and kinky and deliciously perverted, and sexy as hell, and... and ... she fell fast asleep thinking about how wonderful he was.

  ---oOo---

  A few days later, Jack had an errand in a small market town 20 miles away. He took Sophie with him, along with a picnic hamper. It was a perfect afternoon, and after Jack had concluded his business, they found a pretty spot by the river to eat a leisurely lunch of French bread, slices of ham, cheeses, and grapes.

  In no time, they were joined by a mob of marauding Canada geese. The birds honked loudly, demanding food, and if they didn't get it, began lightly nipping with their beaks. Sophie screeched with laughter as one of the fatter geese pecked Jack's bum.

  "Bloody birds!" Jack brandished his fist in mock outrage, then ended up breaking up the remaining bread and cheese into tiny pieces. The two of them spent a happy half hour feeding the geese, retreating to the car when their picnic hamper was empty of even the smallest crumb.

  Half a mile away was a small park with pretty gardens and inviting wooden benches. "Shall we take a stroll through there?" asked Jack.

  "Sure. That would be nice. Oh look - there are swings! And a slide!"

  "Ah. I see little Sophie is breaking through," said Jack.

  "You bet she is!" cried Sophie, and the moment Jack parked the car, she was out and off, running as fast as her little legs would take her to the playground area. She jumped on the first swing and pushed off, her legs swinging, the swing gaining momentum. "Look at me!" she called.

  Jack smiled indulgently. "Want Daddy to push you?"

  "Yes!" laughed Sophie, and squealed as she went higher and higher. It was liberating, exhilarating. And with the wind on her face she felt as though she was flying up to the clouds. It was an opportunity to simply re-experience some of the half-forgotten joyous moments of childhood and temporarily relinquish her hold on adult responsibilities.

  Jack stood behind her, smiling and pushing her as high as it was safe to do so, then slowed her gradually so that she could jump off and head for the slide.

  Up she went, and down she came, sliding down the slippery surface, to be caught by Jack at the bottom.

  "This is great!" she enthused. "Why don't you try it too?"

  "No way, baby. My fun is watching you enjoy yourself."

  And enjoy herself she did, and when she'd had enough of the playground, they snuggled up together on a bench and relaxed under the warm sun. It no longer seemed strange that she was taken pleasure in childish activities; on the contrary, such times were quite liberating for her and hugely enjoyable and free from stress.

  ---oOo---

  It was as they were driving back along the main street of the town that Sophie saw the shop. It had a green painted shop front and a big sign that said Junkerama - come in and browse!

  "Oh - can we? Please? I love these kind of places," said Sophie.

  "What - you want to visit a junk shop? Seriously?"

  Sophie nodded with shining eyes. "Hell yes. You'd be amazed at what you can find in these places."

  "Ok," said Jack with a twinkle in his eyes. "Anything to keep my babygirl happy."

  "Thank you! Thank you!" Sophie was so excited, she began bouncing in her seat.

  "You can stop that right now or you'll get your bottom smacked. In public. Bare."

  "You wouldn't!"

  "Want to bet?"

  "Um, no." Sophie shook her head and giggled. A bare bottom spanking would sure wake up this sleepy little town though. She abandoned that thought as she stepped into the shop. "What is it about these sort of places?" she said to Jack. "They have such a wonderful atmosphere. You can feel the nostalgia associated with all these things collected from over the years. This is a real treasure trove - an Aladdin's cave!"

  Jack looked around cynically. It didn't look much like a treasure trove to him, merely piles of musty old junk stacked high and crammed onto shelves or stuffed into alcoves, or piled on top of old items of rickety furniture that seemed to fill every available inch of floor space. Still, if Sophie wanted to browse, it was fine with him.

  They ventured right inside the shop to be greeted by a dark-haired man wearing a spotted bow tie. He looked up from a pile of old magazines on his desk at the far end of the shop. Beneath the thatch of his eyebrows was a snub nose and a wide, smiling mouth.

  "Good afternoon. Is there anything I can help you with? Some toys for your little girl perhaps? Otherwise feel free to browse."

  "Thanks. We're not looking for anything specific. We'll just have a look around," said Jack.

  Sophie grinned at being referred to as Jack's little girl. She did look extra cute today in a pair of pink shorts, pink striped top, and a pair of sandals. "I think I'll go look over here, Daddy," she said with a grin, and headed off to the left.

  In spite of Jack's initial cynicism, he actually enjoyed pottering around the place, delving into heaps of old magazines and books, and nosing around the bric-a-brac. To his surprise and delight he found a stained-glass Tiffany lamp and pounced on it. It was in fine condition. He had one many years previously but it smashed when he accidentally knocked it off his desk.

  "Hey Sophie. Look what I've found. I'm going to buy this."

  "It's lovely," she said glancing at it, "and so is this. Look - isn't it amazing?!" Her face animated, she pointed at a doll's house. "How long has it been standing here, I wonder ... five years? Ten? Twenty?" She brushed off another thick layer of dust with her hand.

  The doll's house stood a metre high, with a grey roof and faded yellow painted walls. The dust-laden windows had both clear and stained glass, and Sophie could make out two diminutive plastic figures standing behind the glass panes in the dining room.

  "Interesting." Jack squatted in front of it and peered closely. "This hasn't been mass produced. It's been hand made. Look at the level of detail."

  Sophie knelt before the doll's house and opened the front panels, revealing the interior. Her glance took in the dining room, with its faded blue carpet, table and chairs and matching sideboard. There was a standard lamp in the corner topped with a red tasselled shade. Behind the dining room was the lounge, furnished with two maroon sofas, a china cabinet, a small coffee table and a roll top desk. There was even a miniature television, set into the alcove next to the fireplace. Behind the sofas was a grandfather clock, standing tall like a sentinel.

  "Isn't it fabulous? See here - there's a little kitchen." She gazed at the kitchen with its long rows of cupboards painted yellow, still of cheerful hue in spite of their age. Below the beige work surfaces were the tiny appliances - washing machine, oven, and fridge. And in the centre of the kitchen stood the wooden table, the chairs capped with yellow padded seat covers all tucked away neatly beneath the tabletop. "And see - there are little plastic people in some of the rooms. They live here. This is their doll's house."

  Jack made a quick assessment of whether the house would fit in the boot of his car. Failing that, it would surely fit on the back seat. "It's yours now, sweetheart, if you want it?"

  "Oh! Mine?! Really? Yes please?! I'd love to have it." Sophie was so excited she jumped up and down, clapping her hands. But then her expression changed and her face fell. "But my apartment is so tiny. I've nowhere to put it."

  "I have plenty of space. It can go in the smaller spare bedroom."

  "It can?" She flung herself at him and reached up to hug him. "Thank you so much."

  "My pleasure," he said affectionately. Some women friends in his past had wanted to be showered with gifts of expensive perfume or jewellery. But Sophie ... little Sophie was happy with an old doll's house. "I'll go settle up with the proprietor."

  Sophie turned back towards the doll's house, her eyes shining. She had always wanted one of these as a little girl, but never did get one. This was like a dream come true.

  ---oOo---
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  Sophie spent the rest of the day cleaning the doll's house. She took out the little plastic people and washed them in a soft detergent. She took a cloth and scrubbed the exterior of dust and grime. Jack found some left over paint in his garden shed that she used to smarten up the exterior - slate grey for the roof, red for the chimney pot, white for the door and window frames, and a pale yellow for the walls. She was delighted with it. As the paint dried, she set to work cleaning out the inside, washing down the walls and scrubbing the bits of furniture. She even took up the little carpet squares and sponged those too. Everything gleamed and sparkled.

  There were three plastic people and she gave each of them a name. The old lady with the white hair she called Granny Perkins. The younger pair she called Daisy and Michael Perkins.

  The next day, her interest hadn't waned. She spent a happy hour moving things around and positioning the Perkins family in various rooms.

  "Jack," she called. "Can we go to the toy store to buy more little people for the doll's house? I'd like to get a dog and a cat to live in there too."

  "Sure, honey, but not yet. I have some work to do."

  Sophie frowned. "Work? But it's the summer vacation. You shouldn't have to work."

  "Well I'm afraid I do. I have to get next terms budget analysis emailed by 5pm."

  "Can you finish early so we can go to the toy store?"

  "I'll try, sweetheart, but I can't promise. We can always go tomorrow instead." Jack returned to his spreadsheet and calculator, frowning in concentration as he manipulated numbers.

  Pouting, Sophie returned to the doll's house, muttering "Mean old Daddy," under her breath. She didn't want to go to the toy store tomorrow. She wanted to go today. She was desperate for new additions for her doll's house. She looked out of the window and sighed.

  And then she had an idea.

  Jack's Mercedes sat in the drive. Sophie stared at it. I could borrow it, she told herself. I can be there and back before he even realises I've been gone. The more she thought about the idea, the more confident she became. She knew where Jack kept his car keys, and tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen. He always left them on the counter inside the fruit bowl.