by Fiona Wilde
She didn’t mention the incident in class, but Hannah’s smug behavior confirmed her suspicions. Throughout the day she acted as if nothing happened, but after school she went downtown to the mortgage company Beckwith Bartlett ran and waited patiently until he agreed to see her.
“Miss Fowler, right?” he asked, extending a hand that resembled a pudgy, pink starfish. “I hope you aren’t having problems with Hannah. She promised the headmaster she wouldn’t text in assembly after you took her phone, which, by the way, I think was a bit of an overreaction…”
“No,” she said. “This is a bit more serious, Mr. Bartlett.”
Anna told him what had happened. She handed him a scrap of paper with the license plate written down on it. Beckwith Bartlett looked down at the paper, grim-faced, as Anna told him about the damage to the car.
“So what do you want? Money?” he barked. “Is that what this is about?”
Anna was so surprised she couldn’t speak for a moment.
“No,” she said quietly. “I don’t want your money. I just want your kids to be held accountable.”
“Then why didn’t you tell the police? Or the school? I mean, if my kids were really involved...” He held out the paper with a dismissive snort.
Anna refused to take it.
“I didn’t tell them because they aren’t the parents,” she said coldly. “You’re the father, Mr. Bartlett. One would think that you’d want to know what your kids are doing...”
“Alleged to be doing,” he said, his fat face growing red. “Alleged. There’s not a shred of proof other than your own statement. Look, miss; I know where you come from. I know what kind of kids you’re used to teaching. But these kids here are well-bred. They aren’t hooligans like you’re used to...”
Anna stood looking at him, disdain rising in her like a wellspring.
“No, Mr. Bartlett,” she said, finally taking the paper. “They’re worse, because they have every advantage the kids I used to teach never had. These kids are just throwing back everything you’ve given them in your face, and you can’t be bothered to deal with it. Clearly I made a mistake coming here.”
She turned to walk away.
“Yeah, leave!” she heard him say. “I’ll be talking to your boss, Miss Fowler. Apparently, Bridgestone is pretty desperate for teachers if they’re hiring the likes of you!”
Anna ignored him and surprised herself by keeping a calm demeanor as she exited the building and headed home. She walked into the house as if nothing were wrong and cooked grilled salmon with tarragon, brussel sprouts and crescent rolls. She’d picked up a key lime pie on the way home because it was her mother’s favorite. Beth Fowler surprised her daughter by eating two pieces of pie and then agreeing to take a walk to burn the calories. Afterwards they played cards until nine, at which point Beth Fowler announced it was time to go to bed with Prince Valium. Anna worked on lesson plans until midnight.
The next morning she arrived at school to find a strange woman in her classroom.
“I’m Lia Phelps,” she said. “The school secretary called this morning to ask me to fill in for you.”
“Fill in?” she asked.
“Yes,” the substitute said. “Apparently you have an urgent meeting with the headmaster.”
Apparently, the school had a creative way of keeping its teachers in the loop. Anna was fuming as she walked to the office, and trying not to worry about what awaited her. It was no surprise that Beckwith Bartlett was sitting in Logan Chance’s office. What did surprise her was his expression. The man who had been so antagonistic the day before looked subdued and uncomfortable now. As she entered, he flushed read and stood up.
Anna looked from the headmaster to the clearly upset father of her student.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I’ll let Mr. Bartlett tell you, Miss Fowler,” the headmaster said.
Anna looked at Bartlett and waited.
“I owe you an apology,” the man said. “You came to me yesterday with good information and in my….stubborn pride I managed to make a complete ass of myself. I said a lot of terrible things to you, so you can only imagine how I felt when I came home last night and overheard my daughter laughing to her friend over the phone about what she’d gotten Beck to do to your car.”
He looked up at her and shook his head. “It’s not easy for me to admit this, Miss Fowler, but what you said yesterday was correct. My kids are jerks. Both of them. What they did to you was unforgiveable….”
“No, not unforgivable,” she said. “It was stupid. Really stupid. And possibly even criminal. But it’s not the kind of thing that I think should follow them the rest of their lives, which is why I came to you instead…”
She looked at the headmaster now, and noted for the first time that he was giving her the same stern, hard look he’d given her just before he’d taken the paddle to her quivering backside. Her stomach rolled at the memory and she swallowed hard.
“They’ve been expelled, Miss Fowler,” Logan Chance said. “Both Beck and Hannah are out of here. And what they’ve done is going to be reported to the police by their father.”
“Mr. Chance,” she began. “I think…”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Not this time. This is the best course of action, and their father agrees. It’s why he came to me.”
Anna stood considering the gravity of what the men had decided. She did not agree, but she was not the parent. Mr. Bartlett was.
“And you know something else,” Beckwith Bartlett was saying. “I think that the old Bridgestone disciplinary code is going to be applied in my house when I get back home. I think it’s time that someone got paddled to remind them to remember what they were told to do.”
“So do I,” the headmaster said, and Anna realized he was looking at her. She swallowed hard.
“Well, I’m leaving now,” Bartlett said. “Miss Fowler, you will be compensated for your damage.”
Anna started to say that there was no need, that the Mazda was old anyway, but he left. And she found herself standing in front of the headmaster.
“I need to get back to class,” she said.
“No you’re not,” he replied. “Not today.”
“I’m fired?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “But you are in trouble.”
“Logan...” she began.
“Today it’s Mr. Chance,” he said, and pointed to the door. “Now move.”
Anna’s head was swimming as he directed her outside.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“I told the secretary we were going to discuss staff development,” he said, pointing to a black Mercedes sedan parked in the space marked “Reserved for Headmaster.” Logan Chance opened the door for Anna, who felt her heart thudding as she got into the passenger’s seat.
He didn’t speak as he drove her through the winding streets of the old-money neighborhood where he’d grown up. Anna had heard through the grapevine that Logan Chance’s parents had moved to Florida and given him the house years before. She’d only seen it from the outside, never having been cool enough as a student to secure a coveted invitation to any of his parties. Now she was being taken inside for a reason she was dreading, and was wondering why in the hell she wasn’t protesting. Did she want this? Was part of her sickly fascinated with the kind of politically incorrect treatment he’s already given her?
“Mr. Chance…” she uttered as he cut the engine after pulling into a garage. Her voice was soft, pleading.
“Anna, I told you what would happen,” was all he said, and then he was out of the car and at her door. He opened it and led her out and then inside his house through the side door. It was exquisite inside. Everything was polished and clean. She looked down and realized he was holding her hand and flushed with fear and pleasure. She felt like a little girl helplessly trailing a much older guardian, even though Logan Chance was just a few years her senior.
She was in his study now and st
ood looking around as he shut the door. His father was a sailboat enthusiast and the walls were covered with all sorts of photos of the family sailing. Everyone was all smiles and decked out in almost cheesy sailing garb.
But her attention was quickly diverted back to the headmaster as he came to stand in front of her.
“Anna, look at me,” he said.
She forced herself to meet his gaze.
“You didn’t come to me with what you knew about Beck and Hannah. Why?”
She tried to think of an acceptable lie but couldn’t, so she opted for the truth.
“I knew you’d expel them so I…” She stopped.
“So you went over my head?”
Anna nodded. “I guess you can say that.”
“And what did I tell you about how I operate?”
“You told me that you…that you were the authority. And that I answer to you.”
“That’s right,” he said. “But you defied me, again, didn’t you?”
“Defiance is such a strong word,” she said. “I like to think I…”
But before she could finish the sentence, the headmaster had landed a stinging, open-handed slap on her bottom. Anna yelped and quickly rubbed her bottom as tears sprung to her eyes.
“Alright!” she said, daring to glare at him for the affront. “I defied you, OK? I didn’t agree with what I knew you’d do. I didn’t think expulsion was warranted and so I went to Mr. Bartlett. It was my car, after all...”
“But they are my students!” he said.
“They’re Bridgestone students!” she shot back. “So they’re mine, too!”
“But I’m in charge!” he said.
“So?” she retorted, and her response surprised them both. Anna again wondered what was wrong with her. She was goading him? But why? Did she want him to spank her? Was that why she’d defied him? Was that why she’d followed him to his car and into his house like some obedient little geisha? Was that why she wasn’t resisting, but only whimpering in fear as he sat down then in his study and pulled her across his lap? Was that why she was allowing him to pull up the hem of her skirt?
“I don’t think anything is going to get through to you unless it’s on the bare bottom,” he said. “That’s why I brought you here. You’re going to learn once and for all who is in charge, Anna Fowler.”
That snapped her out of it. On the bare? Was he serious?
“No!” she cried. “You can’t! Please! Please Mr. Chance! Don’t!”
But he ignored her and she felt her panties being slid down to mid-thigh. The AC had kicked on and the cool air washed over her exposed buttocks. She felt his hand, warm and hard, lay across her bottom then with a proprietary familiarity that caused her to blush, in part because she still didn’t resist.
The hand moved and when it descended again it was in a stinging slap that caused her to bolt forward on his lap. She couldn’t imagine anything hurting as bad as the paddle but in a way this was worse. It was a different kind of sting, but worse in that he spanked harder and faster now than he had with the paddle. Anna didn’t even have time to catch her breath between the steady, methodical slaps that peppered her upturned bottom. She began to kick and rock back and forth, but he held her fast and she sobbed harder as pain blended with the humiliating knowledge that she could not stop her legs from kicking and pin-wheeling apart, exposing the neatly shaved pussy between them.
Logan Chance aimed the majority of his spanks at her lower buttocks, reddening them quickly until the sting was first barely bearable and then unbearable. Anna was quickly becoming a sobbing, hysterical wreck as she tried to push herself off his lap. But he held her tight.
“Are you going to defy me again, young lady?” he asked.
“NO! NO! NO!” Anna screamed the words, as if volume could convince him if her tone did not. Finally, he seemed satisfied enough to stop and the room fell silent except for the sounds of her crying. When he gently lifted her to sitting she flinched and tried to lift her sore bottom off his lap. In all her kicking, Anna had lost her panties and was now bare-bottomed against his wool pants. Arching off of his lap pushed her closer against his chest, and the kiss that followed surprised them both.
But they weren’t so surprised that they could stop themselves.
“No,” the headmaster said. “I don’t want you to think…”
“I don’t!” she said against his lips. “I don’t think. I’m not. I can’t…”
He reached down, pulling her leg around until she was straddling him. His large hands were in her thick mane of hair now, pulling her face closer to his as his mouth ground down on hers. His hand moved to her blouse, which fortunately snapped up the front. It came open with a tug, exposing full breasts encased in a white bra that matched the panties lying in the corner. He reached around and unhooked the clasp, his mouth ready for the nipples when they were exposed. Anna cried out, twisting her hands in his blonde curls as his mouth closed over a breast swollen to a peak with need. She felt him fumbling with his zipper and then the hardness of him slid into her. It had been many long months since she’d let a man have her, and she was tight. His largeness filled her with an exquisite discomfort, but she was so slick and wet that it quickly went away, leaving only a deep throb as she came almost immediately.
Anna could tell that he wanted to join her, but the headmaster held back, prolonging his own pleasure as he pushed her back up the hill that culminated in another peak of exquisite starbursts of ecstasy. When he came, Anna squeezed hard against him, rhythmically pumping him as he moaned into her hair.
Afterwards they just sat there in silence. Her bottom was sore, but she didn’t care. In fact, the sensation was almost pleasant. She felt everything - wanted to feel everything. But then reality of what happened sank in and her face flushed.
“I just fucked my headmaster,” she said.
“I just fucked a teacher,” he replied.
He sighed. “Anna…”
“Don’t tell me you regret it,” she said quickly. “Please, Logan. Just don’t. I’d rather leave now and never see you again than to have you act like I’m some embarrassing accident you made at a frat party.”
He looked at her incredulously.
“Do I need to spank you again?”
Her bottom was throbbing now. She did not want another spanking.
“No,” she said.
“Then don’t say such a ridiculous thing, Anna. I don’t regret what just happened. Not in the least. The only thing that concerns me is that you won’t take the spanking seriously.”
She shifted on his lap. It was really hurting now.
“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” she said. “Now that the endorphins are wearing off I’m wishing I’d come to you instead of Mr. Bartlett.”
“Good girl,” he said.
“But still,” she replied quietly. “What we’ve done is…”
“…scandalous,” he said.
“Yes,” she agreed.
“Not as bad as the last scandal,” he replied. “I mean, you’re not a student. And there is no anti-fraternization policy at the school. They changed it when the science teacher married the school nurse in ’79.”
“They did?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m nothing if not an expert on Bridgestone trivia. It’s what helped get me hired.”
“Aah.”
They were silent again.
“We don’t have to mention this again,” she said.
“Not even over breakfast?” he asked.
“Breakfast?” She was confused.
“Breakfast, lunch, dinner…” He looked into her eyes. “In spite of what you think from my inability to control myself, Miss Fowler, I do not consider you just a quick hit. I’d like to have a relationship, if you’ll have me. We’ll need to keep it low key at first, for obvious reasons. But the way I look at it, we just kind of got things out of order.”
Anna regarded him. “And you’re sure this isn’t just your grie
f and loneliness talking?”
He sighed and smoothed her hair. “Anna, I miss Camille. God knows I miss her. And if you can handle being with a man who still leaves flowers on the grave of his late wife, then I’d very much like to see you again. And this time I promise not to ravish you, no matter how tempted I am.”
Anna smiled. “I think it’s charming that you leave flowers on your wife’s grave, Logan. It’s touching, and it’s one of the pleasant surprises you’ve given me since I came back to Bridgestone.”
He lowered his head and kissed her.
“I can guarantee there will be more pleasant ones if you’ll agree to see me,” he said. “So what do you say?”
She smiled at him.
“Yes sir,” she replied.
The End
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