I find the fantasy of the sexy professor fascinating.

Because the allure of a professor is quite different from many other masculine fantasy figures.

His authority derives from his wisdom and his strict sense of duty and discipline. Those who submit to him do so as they believe he has their best interests at heart. The professor remains clothed, his libido controlled, sexy – yet strangely sexless.

His self-control and modesty only boosts the erotic charge of any disciplinary encounter. He expresses his dominance subtly, not by over-powering with physical superiority, but through unequivocal instructions and regimented discipline.

Bend over. Lift your skirt. Pull down your panties.

And now you will be spanked.

His discipline is a blank canvas, further eroticised by the recipient’s mind. Afterwards, a good professor will not fiddle or fuck his student, but dismiss them. They will walk away with their bottom throbbing, quite aware of what he could have done, but didn’t. All of which serves to make the experience even more erotic on every subsequent remembering.

Obedience to wise, righteous authority is a fundamental part of the human condition. It’s no wonder it’s such a popular sexual fantasy…