I went back to my pattern, slowing my pace as to fully enjoy the fuller sounds of the swats and Shelly's renewed cries. Before long, she was mewling continuously, and I knew her tears would not be far behind. Which was why I chose that moment to lean over and pick up the wooden ruler next to her on the desk.
"No, you can't," she moaned, turning to look at me with wide, teary eyes.
"I can't?" I echoed, my voice amused and firm all at once.
Her pretty rosebud mouth rounded into an O as she considered me. "I just meant—I don't—I already hurt so much already."
Yet, I noted, she was still bent over the desk. She could have leapt up at any moment, called me an asshole and stormed out, but she hadn't. And I knew in that moment that she wouldn't. My cock swelled past the point of pain, but I didn't care. I had a job to finish. "Your bottom is supposed to hurt, Shelly. It will remind you what happens to naughty little girls who can't behave themselves. In fact, I wager that you'll be feeling this spanking every time you sit down tomorrow."
A high flush rose to her face, painting her cheeks a dusty rose. When she turned back around, arching her bottom out toward me again, I could have kissed her. I made myself go slow, working the ruler down methodically. I didn't spank too hard, knowing that this was her first time, but hard enough to make the wager I'd made her come true. The sounds of the ruler striking her flesh were deliciously full and before I'd even reached her thighs, I could hear her sniffling.
Part of me wanted to stop then and there, take her into my arms and reassure her that she was a good girl. The other part wanted to ensure that this was a job well done, and that was the part that won out. I went easier still as I spanked her thighs, but her sniffles became cries and as I worked the ruler over her already pink behind—it was hard to see through the panties, but the flush of her cheeks shone through the lace—she broke into full-fledged sobs. I gave her the last two smacks, reaching the top of her cheeks once more and dropped the ruler to the floor.
She didn't move, just stayed hunched over the desk, her shoulders shaking with sobs. I reached over to lay a hand on her shoulder, murmuring, "Shelly…"
As soon as I'd touched her, she whirled around, tears streaming down her face. To my surprise, her eyes were glittering with anger. "What's wrong with you? What kind of sick jerk are you? You get off on this, don't you? Making women cry?" She sneered at me before yanking her dress back down with shaking fingers. She gave me one last long, poisonous glare before she turned on her heel and stormed out.
I stood stock still, watching after her. The words stung, but I'd heard all that and worse through the years. Shelly Johnson was angry all right, but I had a feeling she was more angry at herself than at me. I felt a pang of loss as she left, but I didn't dwell on it—because while I'd had my doubts in the beginning, I now knew for certain: Shelly was a girl who liked being challenged, who liked giving the gift of her obedience. Whether she knew it or not, she was a spanko, just like me.
Michelle
I didn't know who I was angrier with: "Professor" Black or myself. I should be madder at him, but I wasn't. Damn it, why wasn't I? Because I had let him. I had let him spank me—what had I been thinking?—which made everything that had come with it ultimately my fault. I could have walked away—should have, even—but I hadn't. I'd let him smack my butt again and again until it had brought me to tears. I hadn't wanted to cry; in fact, I'd been dead-set against it, until I'd realized that Josh wasn't going to stop until I did.
When I'd finally let go, giving into the tears and the quivers, it had been a proverbial flood, pulling out all the baggage I'd tried to stuff down deep and ignore for so long. Once I started I just couldn't seem to stop. I tended to push things aside and pretend they didn't bother me, but with my backside throbbing and my eyes full of tears, I was hit with all the horrible, awful stuff that had happened in the past year. For the first time, I cried about my cancer diagnosis. I never had, even when the doctor had told me I might die, even though Ben had badgered me again and again to "open up." I'd wanted to be strong, to keep it together for him and my sister. As Josh spanked me, I found all the fear rushing back, and for the first time, I acknowledged it.
But it didn't stop there: soon, I was mourning for Ben, for the man with whom I'd thought I'd spend the rest of my life. Crying for all I had lost.
I wept bitterly about losing my job, my home, my sense of security. I'd sobbed piteously for having to move back in with my dad, a man I couldn't stand. I let go completely until my nose was running, strands of hair were sticking to my face and my eyes were red-rimmed and sore. Still, I wasn't done. I wasn't even close.
Then I'd seen Josh, and he'd looked so handsome and caring, like a white knight come to rescue me. But I couldn't go there, I didn't dare. If I let him woo me into his arms, who knew what would happen next? Just then, I was so vulnerable I'd have let him rip my clothes off and fuck me on the cold, hard linoleum floor. Actually, that idea still didn't sound half bad.
So I'd done what I always did: I'd lashed out and pushed him away before he could get any closer. I never meant to, but it was just something that tended to happen and I was sure that at the end of the day, I had my dad to thank for that. Which, I supposed, meant I could put this and my failed relationship with Ben on his tally, not that it would make a difference. He'd never be able to pay the bill he'd amassed.
The funny thing was, I'd expected him to look wounded or even pissed when I'd snapped at him, but he hadn't. His expression had stayed neutral, his dark eyes unreadable, so that I didn't have the faintest idea what he felt. Maybe it was just that he didn't feel anything for me in the first place, so he didn't care what I thought of him.
Gah! I felt like an idiot running in circles with all these questions. The only thing I knew for certain was that, for some reason, I felt better. Even though not a thing had changed and my life was just as sad and pathetic as it had been before he'd spanked me, I found myself breathing a little easier. Maybe, for the first time in months, I'd get a good nights' sleep. If so, I'd have Josh to thank for that.
I did sleep well, surprising myself by waking up even before my alarm went off—a first, for me. My behind still tingled uncomfortably, but it didn't hurt anymore. Thinking of my still-pink ass made me think of Josh and I realized with a sinking stomach that I couldn't face him. I just couldn't do it, not after the things I'd said. I'd be embarrassed to even lay eyes on him and if he tried to talk to me… the thought made a wave of shame crest over me.
Did I even still have a job? Maybe he'd intended to fire me for cursing all along, maybe that was why he'd looked so unaffected by my words. But could he do that? I wasn't technically on the clock, after all. The only way I was going to know for sure was to go ask, but that idea made me feel worse than all the others.
"Ugh," I groaned aloud, burying my face in a pillow. "Being an adult sucks!"
Just then, there was a knock on my door. "Shell—Michelle? Are you awake?"
"Yeah!" I called out. I was hoping that would give him a hint to go away, but instead the door clicked open and my dad walked in.
"Are you still in bed? Shouldn't you be getting ready for work?"
"Uh, I…I'm not feeling so well."
My dad surprised me by sitting down on the edge of my bed. "Uh-huh. Fever? Headache?"
"Well, my stomach is upset."
"I see."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded.
"Nothing," he replied lightly, but he couldn't hide the smile working at the corners of his mouth.
"Well, what's so funny?" I snapped, exasperated.
"Not a thing, sugar, except that you still can't lie worth a hill of beans."
I scowled at him and plopped back down on the bed. "Whatever."
"I notice you didn't tell me I'm wrong."
"Go away, Dad."
"I will," he replied amiably. "As soon as you get up and get ready for work."
"Why, are you charging me rent now?" I asked with bitin
g sarcasm.
"No, but I am your dad and I want what's best for you."
I snorted in disbelief. Who did he think he was, trying to play concerned parent? Did he think I was stupid enough to fall for it?
"Did you have a bad day yesterday?"
"You could say that."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
No, was on the tip of my tongue, and yet, something inside me was dying to confide to someone, anyone, so that I could figure out what to do next. "I feel like I keep making a mess of my life," I muttered, half-hoping he wouldn't hear me.
"Aw, c'mon, it can't be that bad."
I looked at the ceiling, stubbornly refusing to answer.
"Shel, you've had to deal with more this year than some people do in a lifetime. Cut yourself some slack—you're doing just fine."
I felt tears come to my eyes at the pep-talk. I was strangely touched, even if I knew he was being biased. "I don't know."
"Well, I do and I'll tell you what I know. My daughter is not a quitter. Now, isn't that right?"
I gave him a small smile. "Right."
"I'm sorry, you didn't convince me. I said my daughter is not a quitter. Right?"
"Okay, okay!" I gave a begrudging laugh as I sat up in bed. "I'll get ready for work."
"That's my girl." He patted my arm before he stood to leave.
He was at the door before I called him back. "Uh, Dad?"
"Yeah, honey."
"I just wanted to say…well, um…thank you."
He gave me a brief smile and a nod before he let himself out. I stayed sitting on the bed for a moment, contemplating the strangeness of the scene that had just taken place. Had my dad actually cheered me up? There was a first time for everything. And if he hadn't done exactly that, he'd at least renewed my desire to stick with the commitment I'd made.
You're made of tougher stuff than this, I told myself as I got dressed. You're not going to let one little spanking scare you off—you need this job. Although a part of me protested that it wasn't all that "little," I ignored it and focused on getting ready. By the time I finished, a quick glance at the clock showed me that I was already twenty minutes behind if I wanted to get to the school by Josh's seven o'clock start time.
I ran out of the room, calling a hurried "good bye!" over my shoulder as I flew out the door. I climbed in my car and said a little prayer to the Powers That Be as I turned the key in the ignition. Thankfully, the car started with a lurch and I pulled out of the driveway. I drove as fast as I dared—if I'd been back home I wouldn't have hesitated to go fifty in a thirty-five. Everyone did. When I finally pulled into the parking lot, it was seven-fifteen. I was sure Josh wouldn't be happy, but at least I'd made it. And I was earlier than yesterday. That had to count for something, right?
I was walking so quickly that when I met Josh in the hallway, I literally bumped into him.
"Whoa there!" he chuckled, reaching an arm out to steady me. "Are you all right?"
I was bit dazed from the physical contact, but otherwise I was fine. "I'm sorry I'm late."
Josh pulled back with a slight smile and arched eyebrows. "To be honest, I wasn't sure I wasn't going to have to call in a replacement, so I'm happy you're here."
A warm flush tingled across my cheeks. Was that the same as saying he was happy to see me? "I should probably get going."
"Of course. Have a good day, Ms. Johnson."
"Call me Michelle," I insisted shyly.
"All right. Have a good day, Michelle."
I returned his smile and nodded before making my way to my classroom. My arm was still tingling were I'd touched him and my insides had turned all squishy hearing him say my name. It had felt a little awkward, I'd expected that. What I hadn't expected was how happy seeing him would make me.
Chapter 4
Despite my original apprehension about returning to school, the second day got under way much more smoothly than the first. The only blot on the day was that it was raining so the kids couldn't go out to the playground for recess.
"Don't worry!" I spoke above dramatic groans and sighs. "We can have fun right here!"
"Doing what?" Crystal asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
"Ah, well…" I doubted they covered this type of thing in the teacher handbook. One of these days, I really needed to get around to reading that thing. "Let's see…" I began to rummage through the cabinets, stalling for time. I was pretty sure the little humans who were watching my every move knew it, too. "A-ha!" I crowed triumphantly, turning to face them.
Damien looked at the can I brandished. "Isn't that what daddies use for shaving?"
And Mommies, I thought, but did not say. "Yes."
"What does that have to do with recess?" Buddy whined.
"You said you wanted to have fun, right?"
"Right," my class echoed.
"Well this, my friends, is fun in a can."
Some of the kids gaped at me while others exchanged confused glances.
"Don't believe me?" I challenged, using my thumb to pop the top. "I guess I'll just have to show you." Walking to the first desk, I sprayed a generous amount in front of Sara before moving to the next child.
"It's squishy," she said in awed delight as she moved the substance through her fingers.
"I wanna try!" Buddy called out, and I smiled to myself.
The next thirty minutes went by relatively quickly with the kids "painting" pictures on the hard surfaces of their desks and guessing what each other had made a picture of. I was patting myself on the back pretty heartily when there was a knock on the door. Before I'd even stepped toward it, the door swung open and Josh walked in.
"Good afternoon, Ms. Johnson," he said pleasantly enough, though he was shooting bewildered looks at my students. "What's this?"
"Recess," I replied with great dignity.
"It's fun!" Crystal called out cheerfully, wagging her foam covered fingers at him. She giggled as some of the stuff fell off her fingers onto the desk.
I winced as I turned back to Josh, waiting for him to demand I see him in his office again.
Instead, he gave me a brief smile accompanied with a nod. "Everything seems to be in order here. Have a good rest of the day."
"I…I will. Thank you," I called after him.
It was funny, even though my heart had jumped into my throat the moment I'd seen him walk in the door, it didn't feel any better as I watched him leave. It didn't make any sense, I mused as I stared after him, but it didn't change the sinking in my stomach, either.
"Ms. Johnson I have to go pee-pee!" Alex called out, breaking me out of my reverie.
"Okay," I said with a laugh. "Let's line up, hands out. Come let me wipe you off and we'll head to the bathrooms."
The rest of the day had gone off without a hitch and I was feeling pretty pleased with myself as I handed off my last student to the car pool lane. I ambled back to my classroom and began putting everything back in order, trying to get a head start for the next day—and I would be on time, for once, I promised myself.
When I was finished, I checked my watch to see that it was only three-thirty. Idly, I wondered if Josh was still in his office. He didn't seem the type to leave unless every last thing was done for the day. Just thinking of him made my stomach turn little flips that I couldn't ignore. I'd only seen him the one time he'd stopped by my classroom and I'd found myself hoping to run into him again.
Just go home, I told myself. But when I walked out, I found my feet heading toward his office. The door was closed, but when I peered in I could see that the light was on. You should just go home, Michelle, I told myself, more firmly this time. I knew that I should, but before I could stop myself, I'd already raised my hand and rapped on the door.
"Come in."
His deep, commanding voice sent an excited shiver running through me and I couldn't help but smile as I opened the door. "Hello."
"Ms. Johnson." Though he was smiling, he was once again all business. "Is there something
I can do for you?"
"Oh, ah, no…sir. I just stopped by to…well, I mean, I needed to know if Fridays are casual dress, that's all."
He arched an eyebrow. "Really?"
I flushed and dropped my eyes, but I nodded.
"Well, if you'd read your handbook, you'd already know the answer to that," he reproved, a teasing edge in his voice. "But yes, you may wear jeans Friday."
"Oh, um, great. That's great. Thanks."
"You're welcome."
I raised my eyes, but looking at him just made my blush deepen until I was afraid I'd been permanently reduced to a stammering mess.
"Was that all?"
"Oh, ah…yes. Yes, I guess it was."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I think so."
"All right then, glad I could help. See you tomorrow?"
"Yes. I'll be here."
"Goodnight, Ms. Johnson."
I met his eyes despite my hot, tingling cheeks, managing a small smile. "Michelle, please."
"Of course. Goodnight, Michelle."
Another shiver ran through me at the way he said my name and I left the building with a smile on my face.
"Good afternoon, Professor Black," I said in my best sultry voice, adopting a come hither pose as I leaned against the open doorway.
"Ms. Johnson," he greeted me, folding his hands on his desk in a way that made him look formal and sexy all at once. "Come in and close the door behind you, please."
A little shiver of excitement jolted through my body as I slipped inside the door and closed it softly behind me. I walked to one of the chairs and sat down, raising my eyes to his face only to see him looking sternly back.
"I'm sorry, did you get permission to sit?"
"Oh, ah…" My face warmed under the intense scrutiny of his eyes. "No, but—"
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