The Romance of Chastisement

The Romance of Chastisement

Saturday, November 30, 2013

Three Maids---Anonymous

Here is another story rescued from the dusty depths of my hard drive. Once again I have no idea who the author is. Like a lot of my collection, it probably came from USENET or maybe an old Yahoo group. This one is a fairly conventional schoolgirl story, a staple of our genre. The drawings are by Endart, who I understand is no longer creating new works of art. If I am wrong about any of this, let me know.

Blaine, Annette and Linda were having a difficult time keeping their eyes open in Dr. Shumway's statistics class. All three were sitting in the back of the classroom, next to the exit, exchanging quiet notes, grimaces and expressions of dismay as the professor's voice droned on. All three were eying the door and the clock. All three has similar thoughts of seeking escape through that inviting portal.
Blaine, a tall and stately girl with smooth brown skin and ebony hair, rolled her eyes and looked at the clock again. "Is he EVER gonna finish," she whispered to Annette, who sat immediately to her left.
Annette exhaled slowly and shook her head, her coppery curls quivering. "What time is it, again?" Annette was cute rather than pretty, with bright red hair, green eyes, and freckles. She looked a great deal younger than her 22 years.
"Five minutes after the LAST time you asked," replied Linda, who sat on Blaine's right. She brushed a pale wisp of hair away from her face and regarded the professor glumly as he continued his lecture. "Strictly speaking, he's speaking," she quipped. Linda was almost as tall as Blaine, and as pale as her friend was dark.
"Excuse me, ladies . . . Ladies?" All three looked up, startled, as Professor Shumway's voice interrupted their commiseration. He smiled benignly, lowered his spectacles a fraction and said, "Would you like to add anything to the lecture, thus far?" All three sat silently under his regard, faces blazing. He paused another few seconds, then nodded and took up the class again. The professor seemed almost stereotypically academic, with a neatly-trimmed, grey-peppered beard, heavy-framed glassed and a tweed jacket.
After a cautious few minutes, Blaine looked at Linda, then Annette. She scribbled a hasty note and passed it to Linda. Linda bit her lower lip, nodded, then passed the note just as hastily back to Blaine, who handed it to Annette. It read:
"Let's get out of here - NOW!"
Carefully, carefully, the three reloaded their purses and backpacks, only closing their textbooks at the very last moment. The professor was currently engaged at the chalkboard, his back to them. Then, moving almost as one, they scooped up their belongings and slipped through the inviting door. Escape achieved! Blaine and her cohorts held their titters until they were well outside the building, then the three girls burst into raucous merriment.
"We MADE it!" gasped Linda. "Ohmighod . . . "
"We're gonna get in such trouble," whispered Annette.
Blaine was scornful. "Trouble? What's he gonna do? Call our parents? Make us sit in the corner? Send us to the office? Girl, this is college, and we're all grown-ups! Those schoolgirl days of being sent to the office are o-v-e-r!"
"And besides," Linda rationalized, "it's not like we're the only ones who've ever left class early. And don't we have tonight's assignment?"
Annette sighed. "I-I guess you're right. But . . . I still feel - you know - guilty."
"I know what you mean," Blaine said. Linda nodded. "But tell me - what's worse? Bailing early or falling asleep at our desks?"

The next session of statistics class found them in their familiar seats. Dr. Shumway announced a pop quiz, based on last night's homework. After he collected and graded the quizzes, he announced, "I have a few personal things to attend to, so I will be dismissing class early today. Please be sure to read Sections 12 and 13 for tomorrow. Oh - Ms. Lyndon, Ms. Green and Ms. Kasick, I would like to see you for a moment before you leave." Annette, Linda and Blaine exchanged slightly nervous glances, shrugged, and trailed to the front of the classroom. "Please follow me to my office," he said, pausing to sign a transfer slip for another student.
During the short walk to his office, Linda, Annette and Blaine shifted their gaze from his back to each other. Evidently, the good professor had noticed their departure. Each was certain that this was to be the "warning" discussion, with suitable warnings about taking his class seriously.
Once there, the professor invited them to sit, then locked the door from the inside. This surprised them, and with wide eyes, they looked expectantly at Dr. Shumway. "Your behavior yesterday, ladies, was quite rude and disruptive. Your quiz scores are deplorable, which is only to be expected, since the three of you left before I covered that material. Now what do you have to say for yourselves?"
Linda hung her head. Annette bit her lower lip. Blaine held his gaze for exactly five seconds before sighing and looking at the floor. Speaking for the three of them, she said, "We're sorry, sir."
He nodded and looked thoughtful. "Ah, but I wonder, I do, just how sorry the three of you truly are. After all, this is not the first time you have passed notes or whispered during my lectures. Nor is it the first time you three have left class early. I cannot imagine what errand of urgency takes you away from this class and to The Java Bean, but I can only imagine it to be one of extreme importance - no?" He paused for a moment then continued, "I thought not. You realize, ladies, that I would be within my rights to expel the three of you from my class. After all, the semester is still young, and this is a required class for several majors, and a good many other students would love to enroll."
"So, ummm, what do you want us to do?" asked Blaine. "I mean, we SAID we were sorry."
"Ah, but how ‘sorry' are you? An apology is all too easy." The professor stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Actually, I was hoping you would ask me that," he said. "To put it simply and shortly, I am of the opinion that you three are unlikely to alter your behavior unless presented with the appropriate negative consequence."
"Y-you mean punishment," breathed Annette.
"Call it whatever you like, my dear," said the professor. "Punishment, negative reinforcement, discipline. You obviously lack it, and with your permission, I should be more than happy to administer some."
"Wait a minute, wait a minute," said Blaine. "What do you mean by, ‘with our permission'?"
"Very simply, I will do nothing without your permission. You are, after all, adults."
"Wh-what exactly are you talking about," asked Linda, remembering Blaine's glib references to being made to sit in the corner.

Wordlessly, the professor unlocked his desk drawer and brought out a small wooden paddle. Three sets of feminine eyes widened. Three red, soft mouths gasped. "I am a firm believer in traditional, corporal discipline, and I happen to be of the opinion that you three ladies would benefit from an old-fashioned spanking. You have shown a profound disrespect for myself and your classmates. I am quite disappointed, especially considering the quality of your work."
"Now just a minute here, Dr. Shumway," Blaine said, standing. "You think we're gonna LET you paddle us? Just like we were back in grade school?"
"Very well, then, Ms. Kasick. I shall process your ‘drop' paperwork tomorrow morning. What about you, Ms. Green? Ms. Lyndon?"
"I don't know about YOU, Blaine," said Annette, lower lip starting to quiver, "but I NEED this class to graduate this June."
"Me too," said Linda. They looked sorrowfully at the professor.
"Um, look, Dr. Shumway," said Blaine, "can we talk about this - just the three of us?"
"Why, certainly. You have ten minutes." He rose, unlocked the door, and closed it behind him.
"This guy is SICK," said Blaine with some disgust.
"Maybe, but he's right - he could just throw us out of his class, and there'd be nothing we could do about it," Linda pointed out. "We were wrong."
"It's just a spanking," Annette said softly. "It's not like I've never been spanked before."
"We could get him in a lot of trouble for even suggesting it," Blaine said fiercely. The other two would not meet her gaze.
"But we were WRONG," said Linda. "We WERE."
Blaine sighed and caught her lower lip, feeling more like a naughty child caught in a misdeed and less like a savvy, streetwise co-ed. "Yeah, I know. And if my mother ever found out I was cutting classes, she'd pound my ass no matter how old I was. And with something a lot meaner than that little old paddle of his."
"It's just a spanking," Annette repeated. "How bad could it be? And besides," she said in a near-whisper, "if my Daddy ever found out, I'd get the strap. He thinks education is terribly important."
"My Aunt Grace uses a big wooden spoon that smarts like anything," Linda said. "And she's no respecter of age, either. Last month, my cousin, Sam, drove home drunk, and Aunt Grace blistered his butt - and he's 25! I could hear him hollering from the basement."
"Really? Not SAM?!"
"But he's 6'5" and lifts weights! He's gotta be three times her size," said Blaine.
"That doesn't matter to Aunt Grace," Linda said with a mirthless chuckle. "She just reaches up, grabs him by the earlobe, and he'll do anything she tells him, meek as a little lamb. If you're under her roof, you live by her rules. And driving under the influence is DEFINITELY a big negatory. That next morning, he had to sit on two pillows to eat his breakfast."
There was a discreet knock at the door, announcing Dr. Shumway's return. He entered, relocked the door, and said, "Well, ladies? Have you decided?"
Blaine spoke first. "Dr. Shumway, I-I've decided to . . . to . . . " her voice dropped to a near-whisper, "take the spanking instead."
"Me, too, sir." replied Linda. Annette nodded, squeezing her eyes shut tightly.
"Very well then." Dr. Shumway removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and moved a sturdy, straight-backed chair to the center of the room. Then he picked up the paddle. "Who would like to go first?" His statement was met with an anxious silence. He sighed and patted Linda on the shoulder. "Let us begin with Ms. Green. This way, if you please." He led her to the straight-backed chair and sat. "Lift your skirt," he instructed. Linda's face went beet-red, but after a moment, she obeyed. "Over my knee." Linda draped herself across the professor's lap, feeling nervous and awkward. She gasped as she felt her nylons and panties tugged down to her knees. Annette and Blaine watched with saucer-like eyes.
"No . . . Not bare! Please . . . "
"Nonsense, Ms. Green. Bare skin is very effective. I trust this is a lesson you will not soon forget. Now can you tell us, Ms. Green, why you find yourself in such an embarrassing predicament?"
"I-I . . . ummm . . . I-I was talking in-in class . . . And I left early, and-and . . . I'm sorry, Dr. Shumway! I'm really, really sorry! Do we have to do this?" Linda's voice sounded tearful already.
"I'm afraid so, Ms. Green. My office is soundproofed, so please feel free to cry and yell all you like. Ladies," he said, looking up at Blaine and Annette, who were regarding their friend's lowered panties and bared buttocks and with a mixture of horrid anticipation and fascination, "observe." He lifted the paddle and brought it smartly across Linda's seat. The stroke hurt more than she thought it would, for she yelped and squirmed.

"Oh Gawd!!! Oh, that hurts!" The next stroke seared her left cheek, leaving an angry red splotch. Linda kicked and struggled on the professor's lap, trying to avoid the third stroke, which was laid carefully where thigh and buttock met. The professor did not neglect Linda's upper thighs, either, for both her bottom and thighs were quite red and sore by the time he finished, a total of thirty strokes. Linda was sobbing like a little girl, her face wet with tears. The professor lifted her gently and led her to a corner. "Hands on your head, and no touching your bottom - there's a good girl."
"Y-yes sir . . . " she sniffed, feeling very contrite and extremely humiliated. She hadn't had to stand in the corner since her freshman year in high school.

"Now, then, Ms. Lyndon?" Annette looked like a rabbit fascinated by a snake. Dr. Shumway took her hand and helped her to her feet. After instructing her to lift her skirt, Annette, too, assumed the recipient position across the professor's lap, panties pulled down to her knees. She wore no nylons - only white anklets, so the effect was far more juvenile. "And what do you have to say for yourself, Ms. Lyndon?"
Annette was already close to tears. She wanted to throw herself on her knees and beg Dr. Shumway not to spank her with that hard, wooden paddle, but like her Daddy, she knew that tears and begging would be to no avail. She said, "I'm very, very sorry, Dr. Shumway, and I promise I'll never talk in class or leave early again - ever. I know I deserve it . . . " Her voice ended in a small sob.
He nodded. "Yes, you deserve this spanking, Ms. Lyndon. You and your friends have been very naughty, and everyone knows what happens to naughty girls." He raised the paddle and struck. Annette shrieked aloud and burst into noisy tears, her little sneaker-clad feet kicking fruitlessly. Like Linda, Annette received thirty swats, and like Linda, her bottom and upper thighs were bright red. Dr. Shumway stood her in the corner opposite from Linda and gave her the same instructions.
Annette was still sobbing fitfully, but she felt oddly light inside - cleansed and purified, rather like after an appointment with Daddy's belt or Mama's hairbrush. She almost savored the burning of her cheeks and thighs, the embarrassment of standing in a corner, reddened bottom exposed to all who could see.
"My turn?" asked Blaine, trying to sound nonchalant. She was looking between Annette and Linda with fascination and dread and picturing herself over Dr. Shumway's knee, bawling like a baby.
"Your turn, Ms. Kasick. But first, let me ask you something?"
"Would I be correct in perceiving you as a sort . . . 'ringleader' for your little group?"
Blaine looked confused. "Uhh, I don't know. I guess so."
"And was it your idea to, ‘get out of here, NOW,' as you said in your note?"
"Yes, sir, that was me." Blaine wondered what the professor was leading up to.
He smiled pleasantly. "Then I think you deserve something special. Leadership, after all, should be recognized."
"Thanks, I think," was her sarcastic reply.
"You'd better watch that smart mouth, Ms. Kasick. You're already in trouble. In view of your responsibility for this incident, I HAD planned to administer forty swats. But since you're so plucky, I think I ought to increase the ‘dosage' to sixty strokes."
"Sixty . . . ?" Blaine's face went ashen. If Linda and Annette were squealing, kicking and squirming under thirty strokes, how much worse would SIXTY be? "No . . . no . . . Please . . . ?"
"Sixty strokes with the paddle, Ms. Kasick. You have most certainly earned this." The professor led Blaine to the chair, sat down, and lowered her trousers and panties. Then he lay her across his lap.
As with Linda and Jeanette, Dr. Shumway raised the implement of correction and struck hard. Despite her determination to do otherwise, Blaine wailed aloud, tears starting in her dark eyes. 59 to go?! Oh no! "Dr. Shumway, I'm sorry! I'll be good from now on - I PROMISE!"
"Ms. Kasick, you HAD your chance to be a good girl. And you can be a good girl again just as soon as you've had your spanking. It's quite magical, really." He paused to administer the next stroke and admire his handwork. "You take one bad girl, add one good, hard spanking, and presto - instant good girl." The paddle slammed against Blaine's upper left thigh. Tears trickled from her eyes and she caught her breath in a gasping sob.

Blaine's spanking, as ringleader, was the longest and hardest of all, and Dr. Shumway worked on her bottom with a loving intensity. Blaine screamed, kicked, thrashed and struggled as the merciless paddle struck again and again. Then finally, she burst into noisy tears and lay limp across the professor's lap as her spanking continued. The imprints of the paddle on her round cheeks looked almost purple. Dr. Shumway let her lay there for a moment and cry before lifting her to her feet and standing her, still bared, in a third corner of his office.
"Hands on your head, Ms. Kasick; no rubbing. Excellent." Turning his attention back to Linda, he said, "Do you think you can be a good girl again, Ms. Green? Or do you require a little more encouragement?"
She shook her head quickly. "N-n-n-oooo, sir. Not at all, sir."
In an almost teasing tone, the professor asked, "And what does a well-mannered young lady say to show gratitude for the discipline received?"
"Th-thank you, sir. Thank you very much." She colored, met his bright-eyed gaze for a fleeting moment, then dropped her eyes again.
Dr. Shumway turned his attention to Annette. "And what does Ms. Lyndon have to say for herself?"
Annette said, in a soft, remorseful tone, "I was wrong, Dr. Shumway, and I'm very, very sorry, and it won't happen again. Thank you for the spanking, sir. I d-deserved it."
He favored her with an avuncular smile. "A most extraordinary apology, Ms. Lyndon, and accepted. Do you think you can be a good girl from now on?" Annette nodded fervently. "And finally," he said, "we have Ms. Kasick. Have you anything to say to me, young lady?"
Blaine took a deep breath before replying. Part of her resented him for embarrassing and spanking her this way, and part of her felt the chastisement to be well-deserved. She could almost her mother saying, in a ferocious voice, ‘Didn't I raise you better than that, girl!?' She hoped her mother would never learn of this. Finally, she said, "Yes, sir, I do have something to say: I was wrong for whispering in class and for cutting out early...and... I'm sorry."
Dr. Shumway smiled at the three girls. "Thank you very much, Ladies, for the apologies and reassurance of future good behavior. You are welcome to remain in my class..." At his hesitation, the three looked at him with dread. "...and we will discuss any future concerns as they occur." Still smiling, he placed the paddle back in his desk drawer and locked it. Each girl had the uncomfortable impression that any ‘might involve an appointment with Dr. Shumway and his paddle. He directed them to straighten their clothing - pants and panties up, skirts down, then picked up his attache, saying, "I hope you will all excuse me, but I've an important errand to run." He unlocked the door to his office and ushered them into the hallway. "Don't forget your reading assignment, ladies: Sections 12 and 13 for tomorrow. Oh, and I would also like you each to write me a short essay on the necessity for attentiveness in class. Very good."
The three watched him make his way down the hall until he turned a corner and went out of their sight. "My butt still smarts," declared Linda in a terse whisper.
"YOUR butt smarts," retorted Blaine. "Girl, YOU got half of what I got. You don't even want to KNOW how sore my booty is!"
Annette nodded in agreement. "That really hurt."
"So..." said Linda, "why'd we let him do it?"
"I dunno," Blaine mumbled, shaking her head.
"Because we knew we needed it?" Annette suggested hopefully. "I DO feel better - you know, less guilty?"
Linda and Blaine stared at Annette for a moment, wanting to make a derisive comment. Neither could bring herself to do it. Linda finally said, "I do, too, Annette. I mean - it sounds stupid, but it's true."
Blaine said, "Yeah, me too... I wonder if he's gonna try it again?" All three reflected on the possibility of future spankings from the distinguished Dr. Shumway. Three sets of girlish cheeks flamed crimson at the thought.
"It's going to be an interesting semester, isn't it," Linda said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. Her companions nodded. An interesting semester, indeed!

No comments: