Friday, August 06, 2010

Fantasy Friday - Appropriate Punishment

It's my favorite day of the week again. I hope you have come for a good read this morning. We have a brand new story from a brand new writer. I was lucky enough to receive 2 new stories this past week so we'll have another one next week too. For today sit back and enjoy...


Appropriate Punishment


I was in a sour mood. Well not really a sour mood—that would have required effort. I simply didn’t care enough about my mood to make an effort one way or the other… something that was getting under the Prof.’s nerves. The guest speaker had just finished a presentation about something or other. I had spent more time looking at the clock than listening. I heard my name and glanced at the Prof. the look on his face showed that he was waiting for me to answer his question… the one I hadn’t cared enough to hear.

Normally I was an apt student, one who knew a good portion of the answers in any course. This really screwed me over when I was in a blah, mentally lethargic mood.
“That’s two… keep it up and I’ll need to see you after class.”

Whatever. Of course I knew what he meant. I just didn’t care. He was well known as one of the best professors at the school, everyone liked having his classes, and nobody ever pushed his on his three strikes policy. Nobody knew for sure if it was a joke or not, but nobody really wanted to be the one to find out either. I would have bet that it was a joke if I was in the mood to bet, but that would have required effort. It was as I was perusing this idea of being too bored and mentally lethargic to literally care about anything that I felt someone standing next to me. I glanced down at the absentminded doodles on my notebook and then up at the person hovering at my elbow.

“Three.”

Hmmm, guess I’d find out how serious he was. This realization almost snapped me out of it, but not quite. I glanced up at the clock, almost time to go.

“Alright everybody, it seems that we’ve covered everything we needed to cover for today, study your notes for the quiz next week.” Why was he looking at me when he said that? “I need to see you after class, please.” Crap. He was looking right at me. The rest of the class filed out in oblivion. “Follow me to my office please.”

We walked down a couple hallways until we got to his office. He unlocked the door.

“You know why you’re here?”

I nodded.

“Is there anything you wish to say before we get started?

I shook my head. Inwardly I marveled that I wasn’t putting up more of a fight. I had a bit of curiosity about what would happen but I wasn’t even putting up a token argument. It was almost like I wanted it to happen.

“Hands on the front of the desk. Lean forward. Little bit more. Good.” He looked into my eyes as he pulled a large fraternity paddle out from his cabinet. “I am going to give you five swats. You know why, so we won’t go into that. Do you have any questions now?”

I mutely shook my head no.

He seemed as surprised as I supposed I should feel. I was still having a hard time caring about anything. The first swat was lighthearted, it barely stung at all. The second swing held even less heat than the first, like the Prof. was confused. It stung a bit, but not much. The paddle patted my bottom a couple more times, like it was gearing up for a harder swing. I didn’t brace myself.

The professor looked at me and leaned on his paddle like it was a cane. “You’re normally a good student. You debate me and everyone else on everything. You have nothing to say about this?”

I shook my head no and looked back down at the desk… waiting…

“Do you need any more?”

I looked back at him, “no.”

He nodded. “You may go.”

I looked at him in surprise. I wasn’t surprised that he had struck me. I was surprised that he hadn’t struck me harder; he was definitely someone who worked out. I was even more surprised that he was letting me leave before he had delivered the promised five strokes. My surprise melted quickly back into indifference and I straightened up and turned to go.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat.

Oh yeah, I was supposed to apologize for my infraction, at least that was how the “joke” went.

“If this happens again I won’t go so easily on you. You know it can get harder right?”

I nodded. “Yes you look like you could make it hurt.”

Surprise flickered across his eyes. “Didn’t it hurt at all?”

“No.” I looked at him again, told him I would see him in class next week and walked out. I hadn’t gotten all the way to my car before my own impertinence brought me out of my fog. I couldn’t believe what I had just done. No wonder he was surprised at my behavior; I was surprised at my behavior. I looked at my watch. He had another class starting in ten minutes. If I hurried I might be able to catch him. In a few minutes I was in the door to his room; his next class was filtering in. He looked up, seemed a little surprised to see me.

“Can I help you?”

“I don’t know. Do you have a few minutes?”

“I have to teach this class in a couple minutes; if you need more time than that I can meet you after this class in two hours, or during my normal office hours.”

“I’ll come back at the end of class.” This wasn’t good. Now I was going to have two hours to think about how ashamed I was of myself, of my behavior. I went to the school library and got my homework done for his class, at least that wouldn’t be hanging over my head when I went to talk to him. After I was done with my homework I surfed the net for a half hour or so and logged off the computer. I would have fifteen minutes to make a five minute walk to my Prof.’s room, but I didn’t want to be late. I stopped at the bathroom on the way and got to the room only a couple minutes before the students began to leave. I walked into the room as the last couple students were on their way out and the Prof. looked at me.

“What can I do for you?”

“Can I walk back to your office with you?”

“Sure. Did you need help with the homework?”

“No. I just needed to say a few things.”

“Okay”

We walked in silence down the hallways to his office. Most of the rest of the staff were leaving for the night and the offices on either side of his were empty. He opened his door and held it for me as I walked into the room. I leaned against the desk I had held earlier.

“Well, what did you need? If you’re worried about how I will treat you now you will be relieved to know that as far as I am concerned you have a clean slate.”

“No.”

“Well…”

“I’m concerned by the punishment of course, but not because of what you’re thinking. I’m more concerned by my own behavior; both the behavior that brought it on, and the behavior I displayed afterwards. I think you went too easily on me.”

His right eyebrow quirked upward in surprise. “What are you saying? It’s very late, explain it to me.”

“I actually let myself get three strikes in your class. I don’t know anybody that’s ever done that. I also didn’t care one iota about having gotten three strikes when I did receive them. When we got in here I didn’t argue, but only because I didn’t care enough to. I received only two strokes, two very feeble ones that probably shouldn’t have even counted anyway, then told you that I didn’t need any more when you asked. I didn’t even apologize for my behavior.” I stopped, unsure of where I was going with all this.

He was simply standing there, watching. “What do you think we should do about that?”

“Do?”

“Well, it obviously bothered you, otherwise you wouldn’t be here right now. What bothered you the most?”

“The most?”

“Yes. Which part bothered you the most?

“I think the part where you chickened out and didn’t give me the amount of strokes you decreed I would get. I always thought you meant what you said. It is something I’ve counted on when I argued points against you in class...”

“And now?”

“And now it’s even worse because I’ve earned more than I had coming to me before.”

“So what do you propose?”

“Are you going to actually make me say it?”

“I want us to both be clear on the outcome of this conversation. I won’t be ‘chickening
out’ on you this time if you are asking what I think you are asking.”

“I am.”

“You are what?”

“I am confused. I am feeling guilty. I want everything to be alright again.”

“How can I help you with that? I already told you that as far as I was concerned you had a clean slate. Now you seem to think you earned more punishment than I originally meted out.”

“I think you should paddle me, but harder this time. I earned five strokes during class, then I lied when you asked if I needed any more, and I didn’t apologize for my behavior.”

“So, how many strokes do you think you deserve?”

“I think at least three from my earlier five, though you may wish to redo the first two as well, five more for lying, then you should probably double that for my failure to even apologize.”

“That’s sixteen to twenty strokes.”

“I think I deserve at least that many. If you feel I deserve more then I trust that you will give me what you feel is appropriate.”

“And you want me to give you that many strokes while striking harder?”

“If you are worried about me holding it against you if you make me cry I assure you that I won’t. I probably won’t cry. Even if I do I am sure it will prove cathartic. I am more likely to hold it against you if you don’t follow through.”

He nodded. “Okay, go ahead and get back into position.”

I turned around and leaned forward, my hands grasping the edge of the desk lightly. I watched as he retrieved his paddle and looked forward again as he moved behind me. I felt the face of the board tap once against by bottom. In a moment a burst of pain followed. My knees buckled slightly and I straightened them in time for another blow to land followed swiftly by two more. A moment later another blow fell. I heard the edge of the paddle tap against the floor.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

Was I sure? The paddle was producing a dull ache in my bottom that went deeper and hurt more than the light sting earlier. But I knew this was something I needed to do. I nodded my head and leaned forward toward the desk while straightening my legs. I could almost hear him shake his head. Again, he tapped the paddle against my bottom once before popping it hard against my backside. I exhaled as the paddle cracked down again. This was really starting to hurt. I knew he wasn’t putting his strength into the smacks; he was simply giving me what I needed. I clutched the edge of the desk more tightly as the smacks rained down. My bottom ached, I was sure it was a deep shade of pink. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. The smacks stopped coming. I glanced back at him.

“I will take your suggestion and give you five more. Though you seemed to think you might need more, I don’t think that will be necessary. I will be making the next four harder than the previous fifteen; the last smack will be the hardest of all. Do you have any questions?”

I shook my head no, and resumed my position. This time there were two warning pats before the paddle cracked down. It packed so much force that the blow lifted me onto my toes and pushed me forward. I gasped aloud then resumed my position. The next three smacks followed in much the same fashion. My bottom was burning, aching in a dull way that I had never before experienced. He gave me a moment. I straightened out my fingers and reclasped the edge of the desk. This time the light taps against my bottom were painful. He hadn’t hit me harder; my bottom was just more sensitive. The last smack cracked down with an explosive force that lifted me into the air for a moment. Tears sprang to my eyes and my hands grasped the desk so hard that my white knuckles stood out in sharp contrast to the desk and my tanned hands. I waited, only wanting to collect myself, the slowly straightened up and turned around. I leaned back against the desk and quickly stood back up when my bottom brushed the edge.

He looked at my face, concern traced the edges of his eyes. “Are you going to be okay? Do you feel better?”

The irony of his question wasn’t lost on me, but I knew what he meant. I nodded my head. “I’m sorry for my poor behavior today. I’ll try to ensure that it doesn’t happen again.”

He smiled. “I have to admit, I’m impressed. It isn’t often that a student will actually request the punishment they deserve. It is even less often that they end their punishment with an unprompted apology.”

I smiled, “Well since half of my punishment was because I didn’t apologize before, I wanted to make sure I apologized now. I certainly don’t want a repeat of that punishment tonight.”

He chuckled, “Well, it has been quite a while since I was that hard on somebody. Not that you should assume that I won’t paddle you again if I need to, or you need me to.” I nodded. He gathered his things and held the door open. “Now go get that homework done.”

“Already done,” I answered. He smiled and walked me out to the outer doors next to the parking lot.

“How far away do you live?”

“About forty-five minutes,” I grimaced, “not looking forward to that drive home right now!”

He grinned and gave my rear a parting swat with is hand before heading toward his car, “Well better get it over with then.”

~~o0o~~

Went ever I get a story from someone new I ask for any information they are willing to share with us. I don't have a name for this author so I'll call her B. This way if she share's other stories with us I'll be able to link them all together for you. Here is the information B shared with me.

'I'm nearly 26. I have never been in any type of sexual relationship, vanilla or otherwise, and have never dated a man I didn't think I could marry. My friends think I'm quirky, smart and fun. Those I don't get along with think I'm opinionated, and mistake forthrightness for lack-of-caring. My story character could very well be me. I make excellent grades, and lead a very busy life. I love to teach, paint, learn, and read a good book. I become bored easily with long lectures on topics I know well enough to teach better than the lecturer. I can't do anything without thinking up lesson plans. I sometimes wonder why I fantasize about being spanked. I guess I'm no different than any other woman when it comes to most things. I wish we could tell who else was interested in spanking (although it has been becoming more and more mainstreamed) like some kind of spanko radar. I guess that's me in a nutshell.'

I agree! There should be some secret way that we can spot one another. A secret handshake or lapel button or something! B thanks so much for the story and for those who want more information about Fantasy Friday go here and if you are willing to submit a story send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

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Written by PK at 12:05 AM

7 comments

7 Comments:

At 8:10 AM, Blogger Katy said...

B, I really enjoyed your story. It's nice to see that there are others who think of a spanking in an institutional setting. I often wonder what work would be like if those who whined about everything had to take some strokes for their disruptions!

 
At 10:53 AM, Blogger sandy said...

Thanks B, I really liked this story. I like the sexy stories but I like ones like this too. I like the idea of being held accountable for your actions. I hope you'll write more.

Sandy

 
At 2:49 PM, Blogger Michelle Carlyle said...

Great story, B! And thanks for posting it, PK. Loved the story!

hugs
Michelle

 
At 3:51 PM, Anonymous abby said...

Loved reading this story B..well done! A great addition to Fantasy Friday!
abby

 
At 7:56 PM, Blogger Jean said...

Nice story, B/ Pk, thanks for sharing

 
At 8:47 PM, Blogger Florida Dom said...

Well done, B, a very good story and I also think your story is interesting from your bio. You should start a blog.

FD

 
At 12:21 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thanks for the encouragement everyone! I'm glad you liked the story.
Florida Dom... I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm not nearly the expert you all are. I would run out of things to talk about very quickly since I am not in a relationship.;)
Thanks again everyone,
-B

 

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