by Carl Hamlin
Having found the proper plank, she tossed the others back into the barrel and pushed it back into place beneath the workbench. Now she had to ensure that everything she needed was present. She scanned the workbench until she came across a coping saw. She was unfamiliar with the tool but it appeared to be something she could use to cut out and shape the paddle. It would be a time-consuming task, but she could put the board in her grandfather’s bench vice while she used the thin bladed tool to cut a handle for the paddle that would warm her bottom in a matter of twelve days.
Wondering if she was forgetting anything, she looked around and saw a clump of steel wool. She would have preferred sandpaper, but she knew that using the steel wool to finish the board would make it smooth and free from any concern of splinters, either in Brandon’s hand, or her tender bottom cheeks.
She was tempted to take the board into the cottage with her, then decided its presence nearby may be too much of a distraction, so she left it laying on the workbench. She decided that Brandon’s suggestion was a stroke of genius; leaving the task of transforming the small board into her paddle would make the day preceding the evening of the next date an interesting one. Before she could change her mind and take the small board inside to give herself a few trial smacks, she put it back on the bench, left the garage and went back into the cottage.
She decided to push ahead with her work while still in the glow of all that had taken place, and all that she was looking forward to. She e – mailed the magazine editor who wanted to do the online interview and arranged for that to take place in two days. She also e – mailed Brandon to see if she could do a fundraiser for the university by holding a book signing at the campus bookstore, with all proceeds going to the school.
She leisurely caught up on the non-urgent e-mails that had accumulated over the past several days. She messaged some of those individuals who had been helpful to her over the last year, to thank them for their support and to update them on her status. She was elated that she had nothing but good news to report.
She also decided it was time to e–mail her parents, and let them know that she was now seeing someone who worked at the university. Although she had just spoken to them two days before on her birthday, the scenario that was building in her psyche and libido seem to make the topic off-limits on that day. Although she was certain that her mother did not know Brandon, she most likely knew of him, and Hannah knew that the overall situation would please her.
It was the middle of the afternoon before she opened the file for her outline to the Witches sequel, and found that since her memorable weekend, she had an entirely new and energetic perspective toward writing love scenes. After all, she had found out just how remarkable it could all be.
After working for several hours on the revisions to the outline she decided that she was already prepared to start fleshing out the actual manuscript. There were some details in her first Witches novel that she wanted to double – check, to ensure that she was correct in her continuity of the storyline. She went over her notes and scanned the manuscript to verify that she had the sequence of events correct.
She could not help but scan down to the spanking scene, the scene that seemed to have had quite an impact on her life, let alone her backside. She began re-– reading the passage, now that she had the perspective of actually having experienced a true-life spanking. As she read and reread the passage, she found herself comparing her fictional account to her actual session over Brandon’s knees. She found the exercise to be somewhat humorous, but also quite titillating.
When she went to bed that night, she did so feeling a sense of accomplishment, contentment and satisfaction. The only thing that night that threatened to keep her awake was the thought that was stirring in her mind as the evening wore on: she had fallen in love. Perhaps too rapidly, but she had fallen in love nonetheless.
Brandon arrived home near midnight. He had been chosen by the university president to speak on behalf of the fund-raising effort at a dinner meeting of the Chamber of Commerce. The dinner and his talk was followed by numerous conversations with those who lingered in the banquet room, and those he rubbed elbows with in the bar of the hotel where the event was held.
He felt fortunate that neither of the classes he taught the next day were morning classes, and he had no meetings scheduled for early in the morning. As he undressed and sat down on the edge of his bed, he felt confident that he had done well in conveying the state of the university, and what benefits to the community could be derived from more financial support.
As he lay his head on the pillow, however, his sense of achievement was overshadowed by his wish that Hannah were in the bed at his side. He was dedicated to his job, and felt a debt of gratitude to the university for the opportunity that had been provided to him. Nonetheless, at that moment he was feeling selfish: he wished that his responsibilities would not preclude him from spending more time with the enchanting lady in his life, the one that he was already hoping to be with forever.
As he closed his eyes in a vain attempt at slumber, he considered that Hannah was not simply the new lady in his life: she was unlike any he had ever known before, or likely would ever meet again. Each time he was with her, it was as if a light came on to chase away his loneliness.
Brandon Tangier spent his life in close proximity to other people, day in and day out. He was lonely nonetheless, and Hannah Miller made him feel totally different when she was in his presence. It may not have been logical, and it may have been too sudden. Regardless of the normal rules of life, he had fallen in love.
Hannah spent most of the week working on the sequel manuscript, and adding detail to the outline for her other novel idea. She had received some e – mails from Brandon along with a couple of very welcome phone calls that he was able to squeeze in between all of his other oppressive activities.
Brandon had also sent her a couple of teasing but whimsical e – mails as well. One was nothing more than a shorthand sign for “love and kisses” in very large font. However, the one that made the butterflies reemerge was a one-word message in the largest font and in italics. All that it said was SMACK! Hannah replied to that one with a one-sentence response: “Ouch – do that again.”
So it was that she and Brandon passed their time apart that week. When the empty weekend without Brandon arrived, and Hannah was not at the computer, she took off on both Saturday and Sunday to visit some antique shops she had located through the Internet. Her Cadillac Escalade had a large enough cargo area that she was able to bring home a couple of chairs she found interesting, and that would make her living room seem more adequately furnished. Aside from Brandon, she did not expect any company, but she would to be able to sit in the room wherever the mood hit her and the light was best for reading.
She also purchased an antique bowl and pitcher set that she thought would look cute on her kitchen table. Before the weekend was over she had also picked up several tinted glass vases and a supply of artificial flowers to put in them. By the time she went to bed on Sunday evening, the cottage was more colorful. More than that, it had become her home. It did not hurt that the cottage had proved to serve as a discrete refuge for indulging in moments requiring total privacy.
For the next four days, Hannah managed to keep herself well occupied and productive. She had a chance to read the interview she conducted by e –mail, and was pleased with its tone and her responses. In addition, her manuscript and outline work had progressed steadily.
It was when she woke up on Friday that her edginess returned. The next night she would be with Brandon and they would be sitting in the front row at the university performing arts auditorium watching the Phantom of the Opera. Not only that, the next day would take her to the barn, where she would finally craft the paddle.
She had decided more than a week ago that she needed to buy a new dress for attending the musical. That would be part of her Friday activities.
She decided that before the stores opened she would drop by the publi
c library. She wanted to introduce herself to the library director and offer her support and name in any way. She retrieved a copy of each of her books, signed a dedication to the library in the front of each, then left for town.
It happened that the library director was in her office, and was quite pleased to meet Hannah and accept her gift copies. The director said that she was going to put the books in a special display, not only because Hannah was a now famous author, but a local resident as well with ties to the local university.
She paid another visit to the same clothing store she had browsed at earlier, but this time she was intent upon bringing home a new dress. As she scanned the styles, she wanted to appear attractive, but for Brandon’s sake, she did not want her appearance to seem overly flirty. She finally settled on a black dress with a modest neckline, but slightly short on the other end. She felt that it was good compromise between fashion and propriety. She knew that the weather forecast called for mild temperatures, but also a nearly certain chance of rain. She picked out a long but light coat that would look just fine with a dress and heels.
She had one more stop to make. She went to the Wal-Mart and headed for the electronics section. She looked for a stereo system with good speakers, picked one out and placed the box in her cart. She then went to the display of CDs and was able to find the soundtrack to the Phantom of the Opera.
She was home before lunchtime, so she went to her computer and opened her e – mail account. There was a message from Brandon, telling her that he could not wait for the evening to come, but also telling her of the university president’s reaction to the large check she had sent, and that she should be expecting an invitation to have dinner with the president and his wife.
She was tempted to write a joking response, asking if he thought that the check would have been more modest if he had been less skilled in bed, but decided that she could not be certain no one else would see the message. Instead of simply replying to his e – mail, she originated a new message to Brandon with a polite and businesslike expression of how pleased she was to be able to help support such a fine institution. She knew that Brandon would understand that it was meant to be forwarded to the president, and would do Brandon no harm in terms of brownie points.
She went back to her car, opened the back, and brought in the boxed stereo set. She carried it into the bedroom and spent twenty minutes putting it together on top of her dresser. She put batteries in the remote control device, then put the CD in to play. Instantly the small cottage was filled with the soaring sounds that she so dearly loved.
Throughout the rest of that Friday, Hannah bounced back and forth between meaningful transcript development and busy work when her concentration began to flag. She was simply looking to the next day with too much anticipation to live that day in the present.
When Hannah woke that Saturday morning, she was pleasantly surprised that she had slept so soundly. As soon as she stepped onto the bedroom floor, she had a sensation of time passing rapidly, either because she had several things to get done, or because she simply wanted the evening to arrive.
She put on her workday uniform of jeans and sweatshirt and opened the freezer on top of the refrigerator. She had purchased a box of breakfast sandwiches that were probably microwaved by 99% of the population, but in her home would be heated in the oven.
As the sandwich was baking, she checked her e–mail, responded to several, and decided to call her parents. During their chat she told them of her date planned for that evening, as they knew how much she loved the Phantom of the Opera.
They talked until she told them that she had to take her breakfast out of the oven. They told her to enjoy the evening with her young man, leaving her wondering just what parents of their age suspected of a daughter of her age. She smiled after she snapped the phone shut: Mom? Dad? I’m going to get spanked… again. You should see the neat little paddle I’m making at Grandpa’s workbench.
She washed the sandwich down with a glass of orange juice, then took a deep breath, put on a jacket, and walked toward the barn. The sky was already cloudy, so the interior of the garage was in somewhat dim light in spite of the overhead fixture being switched on.
She walked over to the workbench where the plywood slat awaited her. She ran her hand back and forth over both sides, and determined that both surfaces were sufficiently smooth.
She picked up the slat and began to place it in the vice. However seeing that the surface of the vice jaws were serrated, she picked up two small pieces of wood from the bench, putting them on both sides of the slat before closing the vice to hold it in place tightly.
As the slat was just over a foot in length, she decided that she would not need to cut any wood off either end. She picked up the coping saw and began the tedious process of cutting ½ inch off of a five – inch section that would be the handle. Where the cut approached what would be the business portion of the paddle, she cut at a curve.
She loosened the vice, turned the board over, and repeated the process to complete the handle. When that second cut was completed she took the slat that she had transformed into the paddle, placed it on the workbench and examined it. She picked up the steel wool and began rubbing it around the edges of the paddle. All the while Hannah was dealing with the anticipation of having the paddle used on her, heightened by her role in making it. She felt that Brandon was a genius, as the task was certainly having the effect on her that he had predicted. Her arousal was quite pronounced.
Once she was done smoothing the edges, she began running the steel wool over the flat surfaces. She knew not which side would be landing on her bare bottom, perhaps within hours, but definitely before the weekend was over.
She held the paddle up and turned it back and forth in the light. The temptation
to give herself some trial smacks was nearly overwhelming, but she decided that doing so would take away too much of the sweet anticipation that would be part of the pleasure she would experience when the paddle was finally in Brandon’s grasp, and she was across his knees.
She decided that she had done a fine job in crafting her own paddle. She looked forward to finding out, with Brandon’s skilled assistance, just how effective and efficient her creation was.
She was just about to take the paddle to the house, when, out of a corner of her eye she noticed the antique hand drill on a shelf above the workbench. A drill bit protruded from the tool, one that appeared to be meant to create a hole about 3/8 of an inch across.
With some trepidation, in competition with a sense of anticipation, she took hold of the drill and turned the handle to see that it was still in good working order. She argued with herself, knowing from some occasional reading about being spanked with a paddle, that putting holes in the paddle increased the level of sting.
Her glance went from the paddle to the drill, from the drill to the paddle, and back and forth several more times. She reasoned that she had selected that particular plywood slat because it would provide a paddle that was going to most likely sting like the dickens, exactly what she wanted to happen. She had wanted a paddle that would allow Brandon to give her a very lengthy spanking, rendering the flesh on the surface of her bottom warm and crimson, but only doing mayhem to that surface flesh. Due to its lightweight nature, she could lie across Brandon’s knees and be paddled for a long, long, very, very long time.
She finally made her decision. It was the sting that she craved. She loved the sensation of feeling the heat, and then worrying about the next. She laid the paddle on another wood scrap lying on the workbench, and picked up the drill. If she liked the sting so much, she would provide herself with even more.
She pressed the sharp tip of the bit to the paddle’s surface and began to turn the handle while pressing down. After a minute, the first hole had been done. She moved the bit two inches to the right and drilled another hole.
She made an identical set two inches lower, then another two inches further down once again. For good measure, she added two hole
s in the center. She again picked up the steel wool and began smoothing each of the holes on both sides of the paddle. As she did so, she reminded herself that she was likely going to be feeling an extra little “zing” where each of them was located, each time the paddle landed on her bare bottom.
Finally satisfied that her work there was done, she tucked the paddle under her arm and walked back to the cottage. Once inside, she strolled to the living room. Looking around, she decided that there was only one logical place to have the paddle at the ready: she simply placed it on the end of the sofa. After all, that is where it would most likely be needed. And used to her delight.
Hannah had taken another extra long shower. She went to extra measures, applying lotion to her legs and arms and once again taking a generous amount of time to select her bra and panties. This time, there was no question in her mind as to whether Brandon would be viewing them before the night was over.
When she was finally done with the process of preparing for her date, she looked in the full-length mirror her grandfather had mounted to the inside of the bedroom door. Hannah Miller was by no means a vain woman, but she had to concede that she looked nothing but stunning on that evening as she awaited Brandon.
Finally she heard the knock on the door she had been awaiting for many days. She went to the door and saw her handsome fellow in a topcoat and under an umbrella to stave off the light rain that was falling. She nearly yanked him inside in her eagerness to give him a long kiss.