To read the rest, click on ‘Links and Contributors’ above and scroll down to ‘B’, the writer of this lovely story.
Echo part 2
Two months later.
The lady who had bought the second apartment inherited by my parents invited me to her housewarming. She is an old biddy, always dressed in dark colors, as stuck on Victorian fashion. On the purchase agreement, she had mentioned retired professor.
She also invited everyone in the building. She offered a buffet of assorted canapes with a choice of apple or orange juices, as well as white wine. According to the photographs on a commode, she is a widow, and she has a daughter. The picture of her spouse showed a uniformed officer with a severe mustache. Her daughter was photographed wearing a doctorate graduation gown.
I noticed an impressive collection of med school books. I explored it and didn’t notice that everyone had left. Suddenly I froze. Next to the bookshelves in a tall and narrow vase I spotted a crook handle school cane. There was no doubt, it was exactly the same as the one on the cover of that Janus magazine.
She startled me. “You have been absorbed by the med school books…”
“I am a second year med school student.”
She had a quizzical smile, and I answered her silent question. “I am a year older than most second years. I had to retake my first year.”
She severely frowned before mentioning. “I was a maths and science professor before being appointed as headmistress. I have helped my daughter through med school. She is now a surgeon and head of her department.”
I raised an eyebrow for such an impressive achievement. I again gazed at that cane, wondering if it had encouraged her daughter.
I noticed that she caught my gazing, and surprised me as she offered. “I could help you.”
With my imagination running wild, I was almost inaudible as I whispered. “I do need help.”
“I’ll prepare a test for you. Would tomorrow afternoon two o’clock be suitable?”
I shyly nodded, and couldn’t say more than. “Yes, thank you Ma’am.”
Next day at two pm on the dot I pressed her buzzer. I was wearing a navy pleated miniskirt. I remembered how she had looked down her nose at my tight jeans during her house warming.
She opened. I saw how she discreetly inspected me, and smiled. She lead the way to her second bedroom with her desk facing an old fashioned school set of attached table and chair. It was obviously an antique, and the room felt as a miniature classroom with a blackboard.
I gave her my monthly report cards since September, and my course outlines with the bibliography for the next trimester. She said that she would study them while I take the test she has prepared for me.
“Fifty questions, ten for each subjects of math, physic, and chemistry, plus twenty for biology. You are to score thirty correct answers as I will always require a minimum average grade of 12/20.”
It was a tough test, as if I was retaking my first year’s finals.
I gave her my work. Standing in front of her desk, I noticed that she had taken notes from having studied my documents and report cards. There was plenty of red ink…
She sternly told me to return to my desk while she corrects my test. I obeyed and was very anxious. I hoped that she wouldn’t find me below her standard and refuse to help me. I carefully examined her classroom as I waited. Hanging from the bookcase next to her desk, I discovered a folded belt with the buckle removed and both ends taped together. I shivered, little did I know that it would soon be vigorously applied to my derriere.
She spoke. “9/20, a failing grade, and obviously below my required 12/20 minimum.”
I had a sinking feeling.
“You are not beyond hope.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“If you want me to help, you have to be punished for such poor work.”
“Huh!” I couldn’t help being surprised, although I had expected as much.
“Your neighbor across the courtyard got ten strokes of the belt on her bottom plus two on her thighs. Since you are older, you will get twenty, including four, across your thighs for that grade under 10/20.
“You are to decide. If you want me to help you have to say out loud, ‘Please punish me, Ma’am.”
It was the moment of truth. I had flunked the test she had given me. I remembered Natalie across the courtyard being punished for a poor grade. I felt that I also deserved to be punished. I took a deep breath and couldn’t help stammering as I said, “Please… p… …pu… punish me… Ma’am.”
“Very well, knees on your seat, feet sticking out under the back rest, and bend over your desk.”
I saw her pick up that belt, and she stepped behind me. I felt my skirt being raised. I started blushing. She lowered my flowery knickers. I blushed the more and kept my legs as tightly closed as I could.
“Embarrassing isn’t it?”
I didn’t answer and felt my ears prickling with shame.
“Skirt up and knickers down for a belting like a schoolgirl. Aren’t you ashamed?”
“Yes… M… M… Ma’am… I am so.”
Since you are so loud, you should echo your young neighbor!”
She opened the window, and I pleaded, “‘Please… p… p… please don’t.”
“Now everyone knows that you are been punished as a lazy girl.”
I must have blushed as red as a tomato when she raised her voice to say, “According to your past report cards, you have been slacking! That belting is long over due!”
“OH! AH! ARGHHH!”
She again raised her voice for, “Form now on for every poor grade you will get a bare bottom belting!”
“OH! AH! ARGHHHHH!”
She didn’t spare me. I bawled even louder when she belted the back of my thighs.
“OH! AH! ARGHHHHH!
“OH! AH! ARGHHHHHHH!”
I had no doubt that everyone had heard of my punishment.
Suddenly she stopped, and I slumped on my desk, legs opened, exposing my curls and rubbing my blazing bum and thighs. I was well punished and couldn’t say that I hadn’t deserved it.
When I had somewhat recovered, I stepped out of the desk and slowly eased my cotton knickers over my scorched thighs and bum. She gave me a prep for her next lesson and sternly added. “From now on you will always wear a skirt to med school so that you are self-conscious that your classmates might see your belted thighs.”
‘B’ also offers a beautiful, elaborate, immersive spanking role play game. Click here to investigate…