by Carl Hamlin
She looked out the window for a minute, appreciating the scene of the gravel driveway leading to the road. The trees were turning green and the shrubs e beginning to blossom.
She glanced above the back of the stove and that was when she noticed a small decorative miniature breadboard hanging from a small nail on the wall. She walked closer and began to read it. She recited out loud the homage to visiting families and friends. Most of all she was drawn to the shape of the small wooden object. The pot began to whistle, and she finally was able to make her coffee.
She continued to stare at the decorative breadboard. As had been the case for as long as she could remember, she was drawn to any object in the shape of a paddle or any other potential instrument that could be used to administer a spanking. Many times she had paused in a drug store to gaze at the display of hairbrushes. It was not that she had ever really been subjected to such, but it was undeniable to her that she had a long – established curiosity regarding her potential to receive some satisfying smacks to her backside.
For as long she could recall, seeing a spanking scene in a movie or on a television show would drive her to distraction. Any reference to spanking, paddling or corporal punishment registered in her mind like a bolt of lightning. However, Hannah was well behaved at home and at school, so the concept of a painful smack to her fanny rested purely in her imagination.
When she reached adulthood, she would from time to time allow herself to get on the Internet and view a video or two showing a woman being spanked by a man. But that really held little in the way of satisfaction to Hannah. She was really not a visual person when it came to being stimulated: she was purely tactile in her sexual wiring. And as much as she desired it, the actual feel of a man’s hand or a paddle being applied to her rather ample backside in the course of play had never been in the cards.
She actually deeply regretted that it had never been her experience to be spanked. She did not know whether, if it actually ever happened, she would actually enjoy the sensations. She certainly knew that for as many years as she could remember, she had craved the opportunity to find out.
Another thing that was certain was that whenever she was alone and encountered such an object that so activated her imagination, she could not resist the impulse to provide herself a dose of what had otherwise eluded her at the hands of another. She reached to the wall and retrieved the small board. Although she was alone in a cottage back a considerable lane, out of habit she looked around and outside to ensure that she was indeed alone. Nonetheless, she skittered into the living room before bending over the back of the overstuffed chair and proceeded to administer a few stinging smacks to her own bottom.
Also, as she had numerous times during the past several years as she had become more adept at shopping on the Internet, she was tempted to go online and order a small paddle to enhance her episodes of self-administered swats. As was also typical, she had always backed away from the urge, although she could not explain why. Now her situation was different: for a growing number of people, her name would raise a flag of recognition.
When she had written her novel about the young woman who shared a house with her mother and her aunts, a group of women who fancied themselves to dabble in witchcraft, she had inserted a love interest for the main character. Her young male suitor was her avenue to escape from the zany antics of the older women, but Hannah could not resist the titillating urge to tempt fate and give her heroine her own yearning to be spanked by a desirable man.
She asked herself at times if she were somehow forcing herself to reveal her inner kink. At the same time, if it were the case, she was unsure as to exactly what she was trying to accomplish. Perhaps in doing so she would provide herself with a sense of liberation and permission to pursue her desire. There was another possible answer, and when she considered it, it made her blood turn cold: perhaps she was hoping to catch the attention of someone willing to fulfill the other half of her desire. One thing was certain: she had certainly had a good time planning and writing that particular scene more than any other in the book.
Whatever the reason, she had inserted the scene where her character had visited her boyfriend who lived with his parents and attended the same local community college as did she. Finding that he had the house to himself for the evening, she commenced to playfully tease him and taunt him over every conceivable issue. Although the boyfriend was aware that she was simply in a playful mood, he responded to her sassiness in mock indignation. It all came to a conclusion when she when she stuck her tongue out at him, and dared him to make her behave. Picking up on the cue, he escorted her to the family sofa, and as she squealed in delight, he set about to give her the firm spanking she had been hoping for. As the scene unfolded, the heroine’s bottom sufficiently warmed, they both found themselves aroused and lapsed into an innocent but lively make-out session.
After reading the original draft, her agent had suggested that the couple actually make love. Hannah asked if not doing so would result in her book being disadvantaged. When the agent reassured her that was not the case, Hannah decided to leave the text as it was. Even after publication, she was unsure as to whether she simply wanted the book to maintain its innocent appeal, or if she feared a more explicit scene would reveal too much of her own inner desire. She had to admit that her imagination deeply held that fantasy: her virgin self being spanked and sent straight to bed.
As she stood in the kitchen pouring hot water into the cup and stirring the dissolving crystals, there was indeed no question in her mind as to how she would like to have her own spanking scenario conclude. She was no longer content with minimal results of such self-administered smacks. She wanted to experience the missing elements of lack of control, even a sense of erotic danger as she desired to be at the mercy of a man whacking her bottom.
She knew that there were various avenues to meet such a person. She certainly had no problem with those who sought such an outlet. However. It just wasn’t for her. She promised herself that it would happen someday, but that when it would happen, it would be much more natural… spontaneous… but if spontaneous was not possible, she would eventually seek and accept the next best thing.
Hannah carried her steaming cup of coffee into the bedroom and set it on the nightstand as she began to get dressed. It was going to be a much warmer day than the one before, and coupled with the pleasant bright blue sky, it would be a great day for her to go into Manton and take care of some business. Prior to her move she had called ahead to make arrangements for her cable installation that would include her Internet access. All that was left for her to do was to go to the local office to sign some papers. She decided to forgo a landline telephone service, and she had already taken care of having electricity put in her name by phone from her parents home.
Hannah also decided that she would establish a local checking account simply for the convenience. She also wanted to stop by the campus of the small private college in Manton, the one from which her mother had obtained her degree in accounting. But of even more interest to her was that the college had a reputation for hosting an acclaimed creative writing program, one from which Hannah had taken some distance-learning classes. In fact, she felt that those classes taken in front of the computer screen had been instrumental in her development as a writer. Now that she was financially secure, she had decided to contribute to a scholarship program there for promising young writers.
Before leaving for town, she looked up the college website. She clicked onto the link for the creative writing program, and could not help but once again read the profile of the department head. Actually, she enjoyed looking at the photo of Dr. Brandon Tangier. When she had first logged on to the campus website three years earlier, she found herself entranced by the image of the attractive professor, now in charge of his department. Feeling somewhat like a schoolgirl with a crush on a handsome teacher, she looked him up on a search engine and found that he was a very eligible bachelor. Numerous local newspaper articles mentioned his
involvement in community affairs as well as his penchant for long-distance running. She knew that he was a busy man, as there were many different references to his membership on boards and committees within the community.
As she neared the town, she put her phone on the speaker setting and called her parents. She assured them that she had settled into the old home comfortably. More than being simply comfortable, she found that she liked the cottage more than she had dared hope.
She was not just attempting to make them feel good. She told them that she did not know if her living there would be a very long term arrangement, but she was certainly pleased with how she felt right at home.
Her mother mentioned that Hannah’s birthday was approaching in several weeks, and Hannah found it amusing that although she would be turning 28, a birthday was still a major milestone to her parents. As she had no siblings, she knew that this would always be the case, that any event in her life would be of consequence to them. She promised her mother that she would buy a cupcake and stick a candle in it to observe the day. They continued to chat over small talk before she finally said goodbye as she approached the offices of the cable company.
The town of 20,000 people was not hard for her to navigate, especially using her GPS. Within an hour of reaching the city limits, she had established her communications services and opened her checking account. There was much of the afternoon left, and considering that the weather had turned inviting, she drove on to the college and parked at the administration building. As soon as she got out of the car and began looking at the well-kept campus with the ivy-covered buildings, she could see why her mother spoke of her days there with so much sentiment and nostalgia. She reached into the back seat to find her jacket and lock her car before she began a leisurely stroll among the buildings. By chance, she soon happened upon a sign in front of a stately brick building telling her that she had stumbled upon the building that housed the English department along with a couple of others.
She walked in and was greeted by an elderly secretary sitting behind a stately oak desk. The plump silver haired lady removed her glasses and looked up. “Can I help? Oh, my goodness - I knew your mother. How can I help you?”
Hannah smiled warmly at the friendly reception. “Actually, I just need to leave a message for someone. I don’t know whom, really. You could have someone call me - or e-mail me.” She reached into her purse. “Here’s my card. I would like for someone to contact me, so that I can contribute to the scholarship fund for the creative writing students.”
The receptionist flashed a beaming smile. “Actually, that would be Dr. Tangier - Brandon Tangier - he’s the department head, and oversees scholarships for the entire English department. If you have a moment, I could see if he’s available. His classes are over for the day.”
Hannah nodded as she felt herself begin to tremble. “Thank you. That would be fine.”
The receptionist picked up her phone and punched the button. “Dr. Tangier, would you like to speak to Hannah Miller? Yes, that Hannah Miller.”
A few seconds later the door behind the receptionist swung open briskly. There stood a man in his mid-thirties, wearing a light brown corduroy sport coat, a blue denim shirt open at the neck and a pair of faded jeans. But most of all, Hannah’s attention was seized by the tanned face, the deep set brown eyes and the somewhat unruly brown hair that brushed his collar and came down slightly over his ears. She felt that he was much more handsome in person than his photo suggested.
He stepped forward several feet and put out his hand. “This is certainly a pleasure and a wonderful surprise. Please come into my office.”
Brandon Tangier gestured toward the open office with a sweeping motion of his right hand, then gently touched his left hand to her back as he escorted her in. Hannah felt herself blushing at just a minimal touch of this man’s hand. He gestured toward a leather armchair, then walked around and sat in his own high back chair as Hannah settled into the seat.
Hannah was stunned at her at her own reaction, as she realized that she was immediately scanning his hands to see if there were any rings present. There were none, and she again felt the same sense of blushing.
Brandon leaned forward and placed his right hand index finger to his temple and leaned forward. “We don’t get many famous writers dropping in on us. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Hannah laughed. “I’m afraid you flatter me, actually without justification.”
Now it was Brandon’s turn to laugh. “Quite justified, I would say. You have been all over the news, and in all the literary magazines. You’ve made quite a splash.”
Hannah was immediately impressed that he made no mention of her recent complications. She also knew that anyone with his knowledge of the literary world had to know about what had happened to her. “Well you know, Dr. Tangier.”
Brandon held up his hand. “Please….call me Brandon.”
“Okay, Brandon. My mother has always spoken endlessly about how much this university still means to her. And, I’m sure you’re aware that I have made use of some of your Internet-based classes. The struggle of being an unknown, unappreciated writer is still fresh in my memory. I would like to do something to help out. I want to contribute to your scholarship fund for the writing students. The receptionist told me that you are the person to talk to about this.”
Brandon’s face could not conceal his surprise and pleasure at hearing those words. In fact, when he went to respond, he hesitated and his emotion was quite visible.
“I don’t know what to say - except thank you on behalf of the college. We are proud of our writing program here, but we are far out of the limelight, and it’s difficult for us to compete with some of the more influential colleges and universities for such funding. Considering your popularity, not only would our students and future students benefit from your generosity, but also this could open a floodgate of attention that could bring in even more donations from yet more people. I can’t tell you how important this is to us. I don’t know how to thank you sufficiently.”
Hannah felt warm inside. For months she had been centered purely on her own achievement and gratification. She could not remember the last time, in all honesty, that she had done something for someone else.
Hannah leaned forward. “It will be my pleasure. This is something I really need to do. Actually, I’m also doing it on behalf of my mother.”
Brandon’s sighed deeply. “Well, to do this, I just need for you to fill out a couple of forms for you to send back to me. Then, our legal staff takes it from there and channels the money into the scholarship fund.” He began to laugh as he opened a drawer. “I just happened to always have a couple of folders with the right paperwork at my side.” He pulled a manila folder from the side drawer and handed it to Hannah. He reached into the middle drawer and pulled out an addressed envelope and stuck it in the file.
He gently pushed the file folder across the desk with a wide grin on his face. “All we need for you to do is fill these out and send them back to me.”
Hannah smiled and laughed. “You mean along with a nice check don’t you?” She laughed again.
Brandon nodded. “I’m sure that we will be very pleased with any contribution you can make.”
Hannah looked him directly in the eyes. “I think I can say with all confidence, you and the college will not be disappointed.”
Hannah began to rise, and Brandon stood up in response. He suddenly displayed a bit of a different look on his face. “If I didn’t have a faculty meeting beginning in thirty minutes, I would offer you a personal tour of the campus.”
Hannah felt a rush of anticipation. “I take rain checks.” She once again reached into her purse, and pulled out another of her business cards. “I’m living nearby now. I moved into an old family home out by the river. I’m not planning any travel for quite a while, so I would love to have that personal tour at your convenience.”
Now Hannah could see that Brandon was turning a bit red in the face.
“I’ll be in touch right away. I think the long-range weather forecast looks good for next week. Your mother probably told you how beautiful the campus is when it’s greening up for spring time.”
He reached his hand out and Hannah took it warmly. She smiled and did not want to let go. “Thank you, Brandon, until next week then.” He escorted her out of the office as they nonchalantly talked of the sudden but welcome change in the weather, then he opened the door for her and she stepped out into the brilliant blue day.
She began to slowly retrace her steps back to her car. She certainly would not have minded spending a little bit more time with the undeniably attractive department head. She felt a catch in her breathing as she wondered if he would really follow through on his invitation to walk with her around the campus. She admitted to herself that her disappointment would be pronounced if that did not occur.
Of course, if nothing else, he would indeed follow through, especially after he received her donation. Without question, however, Hannah hoped deep inside that he would simply want to see her again. She was not typically so quickly smitten, but she was looking forward to once again being in his presence.
As Hannah pulled out of the parking lot and cruised down the main drive of the campus, through the large brick markers that welcome visitors to the college, she decided it was a good time to arrange for delivery of a few more things she needed.
She really knew nothing of the businesses in the town, so when she came to a furniture store she simply pulled in and headed for the bedroom furnishings section. She remembered the dimensions of the bed and decided to splurge on a high quality set of a mattress and box springs. She browsed around the rest of the store for a while after arranging for a delivery the following morning, but decided that she found the rest of the home’s furnishings to be too quaint to be replaced, at least for the time being. The old sofa and matching overstuffed chair were incredibly outdated and visibly worn on the surface, but both were still unbelievably comfortable, and must have been of a fairly high quality when they were purchased decades ago. She remembered her father’s admonition that, “Just because something is newer, doesn’t mean that it is better”.