"You're really pissed at me, aren't you?" she said.
"I wouldn't exactly put it in those words, Louisa, but I am."
"I disappointed you?"
"Very much. But the person that really should be disappointed is you. You set out to do something important in your life, and you refused to take it seriously. You get half way through your degree and pull some stupid stunt like this. I don't understand. I have no idea why you even bothered with your math class only to turn around and fail two others. If you had some kind of explanation I'd appreciate it."
"Explanation?"
"Well?" he asked.
"I'm not a very good student."
"Only because you don't try."
"Still, I've been thinking that maybe college just isn't right for me. At least not now."
"I suppose you went through high school without having to do much work?"
"I guess so."
"And you took all the college classes that you could easily pass, and finally hit the ones you didn't want to take?"
"Yeah," she admitted.
"So you have a regular pattern of sloughing off."
"I guess. I've sort of decided just to forget about it, and do my theatre work and see what happens."
He shook his head.
"You're over half way through your education, and you'll give it up?"
"I kind of have to now, after this last semester."
Actually she hadn't given it much consideration at all. When she made the decision to drop out of school, she'd hardly given it a second thought. But now, looking into the Professor's caring eyes, she was feeling very bad about it.
"And you still want to live here?" he asked.
"If we can work something out."
"I don't know." He was still flabbergasted by the whole thing, though at the same time he wanted to care for her. Irrational as it was, he couldn't help it. "I suppose it's possible to work something out. But what I still don't understand is why you'd go on with the tutoring and fail everything else?"
There was the bit of the devil in her eyes, as she stared at him, as if there was a really wicked explanation that she didn't want to admit.
"So?" he prompted her.
"I guess," she started timidly. "I guess because I like you?"
"Like me?"
"Yes. Something about the way you treat me. So firm and commanding, but still kind of gentle. Even the spanking. I couldn't resist. No one's ever treated me that way. I mean really cared enough to put limits on my crazy behavior."
Hans considered her admission for a minute, finding as he did, that the young woman's fresh vibrant face was one thing he'd certainly miss if she moved out. "Well, Louisa, I like you too, very much. And though I'm afraid this will end up being the most foolish thing I've ever done, I would like to help you."
"You would?"
"Yes, I would."
"But only if you follow my rules," he added immediately.
"That's what I need," she agreed.
"Suppose we have dinner tonight and talk about it," he suggested.
"You can do that? I mean have dinner with me. A student."
"You're not a student anymore, are you?"
"I guess not." Her sheepish imp-like expression tugged at his heart strings. He remembered how hard she'd worked for him, and wondered if she just needed a little more guidance to keep her on track.
“First, you're going to work, and pay the rent on time as soon as you get that second job. Second, you're going to go to night school and take one class next semester."
"But?"
"You can do that much. You don't want to quit now, I promise you. And then you'll to re-apply for the university, and do what it takes to regain your status."
"But, I can't . . ."
"Oh, yes you can, Louisa."
"But look how I've already failed?"
"You wouldn't have, believe me, if I'd known about your other classes."
"Good god, I'll be getting spanked all the time, if you use the same plan," she moaned.
"Maybe, that's just what you need."
He spoke sternly, from that fatherly resolve that enticed Louisa so. And this time, even as he dictated the rules, there was an affectionate twinkle in his brown eyes as he admitted the tenderness that was in his heart.
"Maybe, you're right," she returned. "It's just that the idea of going back to school changes my whole outlook on things."
"You needed that change. From what I've seen, you're a talented artist, just like you first proclaimed to me when we met. You'll go a lot farther with your career if you stick with this and get your degree."
Louisa smiled. She was excited and nervous and a little humbled, that someone cared so much about her to see her through this rocky time.
"Just one question," she said.
"What's that?"
"Does Mrs. Greg have to be there if you do spank me again?"
"Do you want her there?"
"Not really," she replied. "In fact, not at all."
He nodded, knowing that they were on the same wave length. "But, we will take things slowly. I won't rush in to anything," he added.
"That's fine, as long as it's just you and me." She felt as nervous and giddy as she did when she was sixteen, But her heart soared, knowing that the Professor, at least in part, returned her romantic feelings.
Six Month Later . . .
"I can't get this, it's not going in my brain, Hans, and it never, ever will!" Louisa shouted at the Professor just before she slammed the door on her way out.
"Louisa, come back here," he called to her, but just as he suspected the saucy brat was not about to give in.
In the months since they made their agreement, Louisa had pretty much fulfilled her end of the bargain, retaking her history class, and passing with some help from the Professor. She'd re-enrolled in the university—on probation of course. But she had a class load she could manage, and Hans's watchful eye to keep her on track.
Hans had fulfilled his end of the bargain too. Just two necessary spankings curtailed a slip in habits: once, a missed class and forgotten assignment; the second, the first test of her new semester as a full student again, she "simply forgot about the quiz," and failed it miserably.
Louisa took both spankings in stride. Painful as they were, there was still that added bonus, that little thrill of finding her Professor's intimate attentions to her behind quite arousing—even if the two hadn't really acted on their more amorous feelings. The Professor was determined that her spankings teach her the necessary lesson.
On the romantic side however, there were several sensuous kisses at the end of their "real" dates—those times when Hans took her out for pizza or a movie. Such a gentleman. He was delicate in the affairs of the heart, a fact that made the more audacious Louisa simply tremble in her shoes almost any time she was around the man. She'd been pretty easy to go to bed with men in the past. But Hans was different, and she was thoroughly feasting on the long slow tease.
"Louisa, open the door," Hans ordered her when he reached her upstairs apartment. He'd given her ten minutes to calm down, but ten was enough in his estimation.
"No!" she blared at him.
"Louisa!" he spoke sharply.
A second later, the door rattled simultaneous to a vicious sounding crash of glass. Something had gone flying in his direction and was sure to be in pieces at the bottom of the door.
Without another thought, Hans opened the locked door with his passkey and stepped gingerly over the broken glass.
"You!" He pointed a finger at the sniveling angry young woman who was huddled in the far corner of the room. "Stand up, and come here!"
Louisa remained silent, pouting noticeably. Her lower lip trembled, but it was a mad pout, and Hans prepared himself for her verbal assault.
"Louisa French!" He leveled a stare at her that was the worst she'd ever seen. No, not "mild-mannered" at all, he was at his commanding best. "Louisa," he repeated.
"I can't do
it!" she finally snapped.
"That's a lie."
"I can't, I can't, I can't. I don't care how much you tutor me, how much you spank me, how much . . . anything," her arms were flailing theatrically, "I'm never going to graduate. I'm a horrible failure." She collapsed back into the corner in her stew, her arms hugging her knees to her, her head bowed, hiding.
Hans shook his head in exasperation, wondering why his heart was so captured by this unruly woman. She had no self-control, no discipline, no sense at all in so many things. Yet he loved her and was loving her more every day—especially days like this, when she was annoying, and confounding and totally miserable. Even this, the very worst, he couldn't look on her woe with anything but tenderness.
At her side, Hans bent down and tugged at her crossed arms. At first she resisted, but a little more tugging and she allowed him to pull her to her feet.
"Sometimes you make so mad, I don't know why I put up with you," he said.
"Then don't," she snapped at him.
"Oh, no, it just makes it more of a challenge," he told her sternly. "We should have solved this hours ago, and that's just what we're going to do now."
"No!" Louisa said, trying to jerk away from him.
"Oh, yes!" he answered her protest firmly. As he held her close, he also began to unbuckle his belt from his pants.
"You're going to use that," she looked at him in horror.
"It's what I have," he said. The belt pulled free, Hans sat down on the couch, and pulled her over his lap. A quick tug of her lycra exercise shorts her white round buns were ready.
"Hans, no! Please. I'm sorry, I really am. I never should have thrown that dish, please!"
Smack! The belt struck while she was still pleading.
"Ouch!"
Smack! Smack! Smack! The belt took the place of words, the leather flying briskly through the air, landing time after time on Louisa's wiggling bottom. Stripes of red appeared within seconds, lines of darker red criss-crossing the more fiercely they landed.
"Ouch! Oh, no! Please don't." Her wails, her cries, her thrashing was constant. At first she was angry, and angrily fighting him, which only made Hans strike her harder. As time went on however, the quality of her cries diminished into a woeful, pain filled sob, something Hans expected.
Hearing her relinquishing somewhat, he back off too; though he didn't stop altogether. Continuing with an even pace, the belt landed again and again, covering Louisa's bottom with its stinging strikes. The more compliant Louisa, churned and moaned, and cried and wept, but in the end she was surrendering to the punishment, and to Hans, and to the discipline he offered.
Finishing off, Hans left her bottom with a half dozen cutting strikes that had her howling for an instant. But the spanking over, she went limp in his lap, content not to move for a long time.
With a gentle hand on her behind, Hans caressed her hot flesh. The feeling of oneness between the two had never been greater, and though he'd only taken this liberty one brief time before, he didn't stop. Louisa didn't want him to, he could see that by the encouragement of her squirming loins. Perhaps it was the day to make that momentous gesture, to take their unusual relationship one step further.
Not holding back his affections this time, Hans lifted her into his arms, and in nearly the same movement, the two fell back on Louisa's couch, their arms grasped around each other, their lips meeting for wet, passionate kisses.
The remainder of their clothes falling to the floor beside them, they were fully naked rocking together happily, as Hans firm erection thrust inside her.
Such a different kind of groan, such a happy sound to hear from her, it as glorious as her singing, as exuberant as she could be on the best of days. The blissful song of her orgasm rose delightfully, just as Hans himself slipped over the edge of his inspired climax.
"So, now that you've been well screwed, how's your disposition?" the Professor asked.
"Divine," Louisa purred gleefully. "You know I never thought you'd get around to this."
"I was waiting for the perfect time," he said.
"When I'm at my very lowest point?" she wondered aloud.
"Not exactly. Today just seemed to be the right day."
"You certainly left my bottom sore," she said, reaching around to massage an aching cheek.
"Good, it will serve as a reminder. I probably should give you another spanking for breaking that dish against the door, and your pouty attitude, and your ridiculous tantrum."
"I thought that's what you spanked me for," Louisa said.
"Not really. What upset me the most was your defeatest attitude. You have a little problem with some of your work, and you fly off the handle and tell me you can't do it. All you need is a little patience and a clear head, and you'll learn what you need to learn."
Louisa sighed. "You have such faith me. Sometimes I don't think I deserve you."
"Oh, you deserve me all right, and you need me too."
Louisa was silent for a moment, thinking. "So what do I give to you?" she asked. It was a very sincere question.
Hans smiled. "Oh, let's see. How about the sight of your glorious body, the sound of your voice, the exuberance of your spirit, and when you're not whining about school work, your determination to be an actress. There's lots to love, believe me."
She blushed. "You really think all that?" she asked.
"From the first time I met you," he said.
"Then I suppose I'll have to get busy so I can keep you around."
"You're damn right, Louisa French," the Professor agreed. "And, yes. I think I will give you another spanking tonight for breaking that dish." His eyes twinkled merrily, as he looked toward the mess on the floor.
"Well, I suppose if it ends the way this spanking did," she said. "I won't mind at all."
The professor smiled at her kindly. There it was again, those flashing artful eyes, and fresh exhilaration. Louisa French might be the most exasperating brat he'd ever met, but she was undoubtedly the most delightful one.
A Lesson In Love
"I can't take you on this trip, and that's that!" Joshua told her for the hundredth time.
"But why not! You still haven't given me a satisfactory answer." She put her foot down firmly, and with hands on her hips, her lusty rebellion was almost making Joshua laugh. But he'd already covered this territory with her and he was about to lose his patience.
"You, my sweet-assed wench," Joshua Crow purred in her ear as his arm went around her thin waist, "are going to stay here in England while I get the repairs done on the ship. That's my final word."
"But you said you'll be gone a month or two! I can't bear it!"
"Where I have to go to go on business, is no place for a woman," Joshua told her. "Beside I've arranged other accommodations for you."
"You have?"
"Yes, Mr. Terrill, your former guardian, now has a London house, you'll be staying with him and his new wife."
"Good God! No!" she blared, her eyes flashing wildly. She stormed desperately trying to wrench away from him.
"He's agreed," Joshua said.
"How could you! You know how I hate that man!"
"Hate? You? I doubt that. Besides, the situation has changed. You're no longer obligated to the man, no longer his charge. But you are in mine, and this is an emergency and I can find no where else where you can bide your time until things are ready for us to sail for New Bedford again."
"Dammit!" Juliet roared. This time, she freed herself of Joshua's grasp.
"Don't you go running off!" Joshua roared back. "Or I'll take the leather to your backside."
"But . . ." She turned back to him, no desire to feel that brand of wrath.
"Mind your manners," Joshua warned sternly.
She took a deep breath, bit her lip so he could see she was holding back her sharp retort. Then with as much cool restraint as she could gather, she ran her hands along her dress as if to straighten it, nodded to her husband, and started out the door again.
Just as she was about to close the door, Joshua spoke again, "I did instruct Mr. Terrill to use his discretion to keep you in line."
"What!" She whipped around. "You didn't," she snapped. Her eyes were flashing wildly.
"I won't have you not minding your behavior. I have no need of rebellious brats right now. All the worries that I have."
"You horrid, wretched, despicable man, Joshua Crow. I'll not love you again if you deposit me on his doorstop."
The sea Captain's eyes flashed mightily, his face was clouded with a dark aspect, as he lunged for his fast fleeing wife.
"What was that you said?" he queried her, as his fierce grip on her arm drew her back in the room.
"I said, I'll not love you again!" she retorted haughtily.
"I thought so," the Captain replied. "So, you can't keep your tongue, even for a second."
The stern man, a burly, handsome, dark bearded blackguard of a seaman, drew the auburn-haired beauty over his lap a split second later. Having her skirts flying over her head, her bottom was feeling the sting of his hand as it came down to paddle her exposed behind.
"Ouch! Goddammit, ow, ouch, stop!"
Her arms kicked, her legs thrashed, but she was perfectly captured by his overpowering command and strong arms, not about to be let up from the discipline until her husband was finished. Joshua's hand came down on her bottom, peppering her hard and fast with dozens of wicked smacks, turning the once fair cheeks into quite a display of fiery red hue as it splashed across the tender behind.
"Ow, ouch, stop, you bloody bastard!"
SMACK!
One particularly nasty slap of his hand admonished her more harshly than the rest. "You hold your tongue. I'm warning you."
SMACK!
Another vicious swat punctuated his resolve, and he resumed the efficient pelting and the steady pace, until Juliet's whole rear was ablaze, the skin hot to his touch.
"There now," he said at last. "You have anything else to say?" He held her tightly, his one arm clutching her waist, his other hand firmly squeezing a sore rear cheek. He defied her to say a word of protest.
For a long time, Juliet's whole torso heaved and sighed. The Caption knew that a hundred torrid thoughts were almost spoken, but not. His headstrong wife was fighting for all she was worth to quell her hostility, even though the task was difficult.
A Wild Night On the Island & Other Stories Page 9