My Red Maid

The estate was palatial, sitting on the edge of the cliffs, overlooking the vast Pacific Ocean. I swerved my way through the curves leading to the family estate, top down, wind flapping my shirt collar. Father would not have approved. He always hated my driving from the day I got my license, but those days are long gone. Now, the estate is mine as well as the family business and the fortune its operation have acquired. He is still around mind you, he has just hung out the gone fishing sign and tossed me the keys to everything that mattered. I can live with that.

Walking through the front door, I was greeted by the sounds of gunfire. I considered dodging for cover, but then I realized it was only the television. The quality of my father’s sound system is indisputably the best available and the surround sound feature really makes it like you are actually there. In the television room, I found Elaine, our housemaid, feet up on the sofa, enjoying John Wayne on the 80 inch plasma. I sat on the arm of the sofa and waited for her to realize she was not alone.

“Shit Jacob,” She said, propping herself up, “When the fuck did you get in?”

“You wouldn’t need to ask if you were doing your chores instead of fantasizing about Johnny,” I said.

“If you were half the man he was, I wouldn’t need to,” She said.

“Do the chores or fantasize?” I asked.

“Both,” She said, “I’m sure he was enough of a man to do his own chores and take care of a woman properly.”

“I’m sure he was, but I don’t recall you being my woman,” I said, “and you’re paid to do the chores.”

“Two grand a night and I’m all yours,” She said, with a wink.

“Not even if you looked like Julia Roberts,” I said.

“Yeah, I can’t figure why Richard Gere needed to pay for it anyway and worse, why he would go for skank like her,” Elaine said. “Hell, I would have paid him.”

“You couldn’t have paid him enough to look your direction, let alone spend a day with you,” I said, “Especially since you don’t like to work.”

“I like work just fine,” She said, “as long as other people are doing it.”

“How on earth did you convince my father to keep you around all these years?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” She said, giggling.

“Probably not, but you do realize he is no longer running things,” I said.

She sighed saying, “Yes, and now you’ve finally got your chance to make your mark. Are you going to start by firing me?”

“Maybe lighting a fire under your backside, but I think I’ll keep you around for now, unless you’d rather not work for me,” I said.

“That depends,” She said. “Are we still going to be friends or are you going to turn into an asshole like your father?”

I shook my head and said, “That depends, are you going to be friendly when I ask you to do your work?”

“Hell no,” She said. “You’ve known me long enough to know that.”

I laughed, “That’s what I thought.”

The phone rang. Crossing the floor to answer it, I said, “Maybe you could at least pretend to do some chores.”

“What’s the fucking point?” She asked, shutting the television off and stretching.

I answered the phone and Elaine left the room, heading off for parts unknown. It was easy to pretend she was going to do some work, but I knew better. On the other end of the phone, my administrative assistant filled me in on a brewing client crisis my father had decided to ignore or dump in my lap, or both. Either way it meant leaving for the office and possibly a trip across the country before nightfall. Hanging up, I went in search of Elaine.

She was standing on the staircase, holding a feather duster in one hand and her nose in the other. I laughed at the cloud surrounding her head and she stuck her tongue out at me. That she started coughing a moment later only increased my laughter and her displeasure, seemed entirely appropriate. Apparently, she disagreed.

“It’s not fucking funny,” She said, gagging on dust.

“No, but it is funny,” I said.

“Ha ha,” She said.

I said, “See, even you agree.”

“Bite me,” She said, cocking her head to the side.

“Maybe later,” I said, heading toward the entry. “I have to go back to the office and I might need to take a trip tonight. Please take care of my laundry and prepare an overnight bag for me.”

“I’ll think about it,” She said, as I walked out the door. “Have fun.”

My business meeting went smoother than expected and I returned to the estate a mere three hours later with no need to venture off on a business trip. Elaine was relaxing in the lounge with a friend of hers from the local area. Neither bothered to get up when I entered the room, nor temper their conversation. I suspect they expected me to leave them in privacy, after all it is only my family’s residence. Why would I think I had free reign of it?

Elaine said, “You wouldn’t fucking believe it. I was coughing and wheezing for an hour. No shitting. I must be fucking allergic to dust and he just thought it was fucking hilarious.”

Her friend said, “Damn, what an a-hole. I can’t figure these rich fuckers anyhow. I mean what the fuck, they can’t clean their own house? How fucking lazy do they have to be?”

“Good evening, ladies,” I said, although by the sounds of things there were none in the room.

Elaine said, “Shit Jacob! How long you been standing there?”

“Just got back,” I said. “I see you’re making yourself right at home.”

Her friend said, “Hell yeah. Your place is the shit.”

I glanced at the floor hoping I misunderstood. “I tend to think of it as a little better than a local dung heap,” I said.

“Right on,” Her friend said, “That place don’t have half as good of liquor as what you got here.”

“Yes, but they have much larger flies,” I said.

“Dude, you’re funny,” Her friend said.

“I’ll be here all week,” I said. “The question is, will you?”

Elaine said, “I thought you were going on a trip.”

“I was able to step aside and avoid stumbling,” I said.

“Huh?” Elaine said.

“I’ll be staying in town,” I said.

“So like, I have the place to myself?” Elaine asked.

I shook my head, “I’m staying,” I said.

“Why didn’t you just say so?” Elaine asked.

I said, “I thought I did.”

“He’s just like his fucking father,” Elaine said to her friend, “always complicating things that don’t need to be.”

Her friend said, “Toss back a tall one, dude. Then you’ll be seeing how simple the shit life really is.”

“Silly me, I’ve always aimed a bit higher than the shit pile,” I said.

“You got to relax,” Her friend said, “Great expectations just lead to great disappointments.”

“Whatever you say,” I said nodding to them, “I’m going to retire for the evening. Goodnight.”

“Later, dude,” Her friend said, and Elaine raised her empty glass to me as I backed out of the room.

I walked off, heading up the stairs to my private suite. Inside, I found my bed piled three feet high with my laundry. The sheets were rolled down to the foot of the bed and hanging down to the floor. I considered taking a picture, after all it was a sight you do not see every day. On closer inspection, it became obvious the clothes were at least washed, but the wrinkles alone would almost negate the fact. I headed back down to the lounge.

“Dude,” I said to Elaine’s friend, “I think it’s time for you to ship out.”

“But there’s still an unopened bottle of scotch,” Her friend said.

I said, “Elaine, we need to talk and I doubt you want an audience.”

She looked up at me and shrugged, saying “Whatever. Head off. I’ll catch you later okay?”

Her friend looked between us and said, “Sure, whatever.”

With her friend gone, Elaine started closing up bottles and straightening the mess they had made. I said, “I thought I asked you to take care of my laundry today.”

She said, “Yeah and I told you I’d think about it.”

“You’re the maid,” I said.

“You’re very observant,” She said.

“You’re supposed to do the laundry without my asking,” I said.

“That’s the problem,” She said, “You messed everything up cause you had to ask.”

“So, if I hadn’t said anything you would have done it?” I asked.

She said, “I did do it. It’s all on your bed.”

“I noticed, it looks like you took a lot of time to pile it up as high as you could,” I said.

She smiled and said, “You noticed my effort? I’m impressed.”

“I’m not,” I said. “You’re going to go up there right this minute, iron everything perfect and put it away like you should have done hours ago.”

“I will not,” She said. “It’s after my work hours. I’m going to bed.”

“You’re a live-in maid, you don’t have after hours,” I said.

“I think the labor board would disagree with you,” She said.

I said, “There’s a much closer board that won’t agree with you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” She said.

I said, “Not only would I, but I will if you don’t get your sassy tail up to my room this minute.”

She said, “I’m not that kind of maid.”

“You’re not any kind of maid from what I’ve seen,” I said.

“Now that’s just rude, I expect an apology if you expect me to do any more work ever,” She said.

I sat down on the sofa and said, “You can either get over my knee or get out of my house.”

She said, “In your dreams.”

“It is my house and you will do one or the other this instant,” I said snapping my fingers at her.

“Make me!” She said.

“You asked for it,” I said, grabbing her arm pulling her over my lap.

She squealed from the very first slap of my hand. When I slipped my fingers in her her pant waist and eased them down, she squealed even louder. I smacked her red pantied bottom and she kicked and squirmed like the overgrown brat she was. My hand enjoyed the silkiness of her underwear, but I realized only a bare bottom spanking would have the desire effect.

Pulling her panties down, I said, “I like this red on your bottom. I think I’ll have to apply it directly though.”

“Stop it!” She screamed, kicking her legs, “What are you doing, you sick bastard?”

“I’m giving you the spanking you so richly deserve,” I said, reapplying my swinging hand to her bottom.

The room echoed with the clapping of my hand with bottom. Elaine provided a constant rhythm of thumping with her toes kicking the floor and a melody of squeaks, reminiscent of fairy tale birds singing. If it weren’t for the occasional curse word flying out of her mouth, I could have imagined I was spanking a poor princess. Why did they not make good cartoons like that showing all the young men how to handle their princesses? Oh well, live and learn, I suppose.

I kept up the walloping until her legs tired of kicking and then said, “Are you ready to put yourself over my lap for a proper spanking now?”

“I can’t take anymore,” Elaine said, sobbing.

“You could always leave,” I said, “but if you do, you will not be welcome back.”

“You’re a real bastard,” She said.

“I cannot control what you think of me, but while in my employ, you will keep your opinions to yourself unless I ask for them,” I said.

“Or what?” She said, twisting to look up at me.

“Or you’ll find yourself in this position more often,” I said.

“Fine,” She said, “I’ll take care of your laundry.”

I nodded and said, “I thought you might see things my way. Now stand up.”

Patting her bottom one more time, I released my hold on her and helped her climb to her feet. Her bottom was a mere pink, several shades lighter than her red panties, but the blush on her face and the genuine tears on her cheeks, were compensation enough. I knew her well enough to know it would not last unless I pushed a little farther though.

“So, you’re staying?” I asked.

She nodded, wiping tears from her eyes and nursing her bare bottom.

“Then you agree to do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it and keep your opinions to yourself?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Good,” I said. “Now you are going to strip--

She gasped, eyes widening like saucers.

--everything off and then you will go upstairs, iron my clothes, neatly take of everything in its proper place, and then come back down to the kitchen and stand against the wall with your bare red bottom on display until I’m ready to send you off to bed. Understood?”

She glanced at the door then back to me and tugged her pants and panties down her legs stepping out of them and tossing them onto the coffee table. Covering herself for a moment against the wall, she found the nerve to lift her top off and throw it to join her other things. Wearing nothing but her bra and nylons she looked to me for mercy.

“Everything,” I said.

Her face turned bright red and she unfastened her bra, throwing it to the table. A moment later she rolled her nylons off her legs and rushed off up the stairs. I followed her, to make certain she would do a good job of course. Elaine lifted the mountain from my bed and carried it back down to her work area. She ironed well into the night and when I woke in the morning she was standing by the kitchen wall, hands on her head, naked bottom still displayed. My clothing was so well tended, I am thinking I might have to permanently alter her uniform. I wonder if Elaine would voice an opinion about it?

School Spankings

When I write about school spankings, I have a tendency to shy away from anything not college related. Personally, I just don’t like the idea of the publicly ran school system spanking. The college environment is much different, because it allows the creation of a fantasy environment not touched by the walls of everyday reality. For the most part, real colleges don’t delve into the spanking arena which makes the story safe for exploring all kinds of situations.

Another plus to the college environment is the student (aka spankee) is old enough to choose for themselves if they want to go through the disciplinary situation that is created or run away. Of course since I’ve created the character in the first place, I make the choice for them, but that is entirely irrelevant. The point is, the college school environment makes for a great setting where the story is free to explore institutional style discipline without the boundaries typically required by the school type spanking stories. I like this because when I write stories, I like to be able to follow the story wherever my characters want to take it and sometimes that is a very strange place.

What is not so great about the college environment is the lack of routine and structure most college’s employ in their operation. When a student can choose not to attend class, not to do their course work, fail tests, and hang out on the beach all day, the story can quickly lose its footing. Why would a student about to get an embarrassing spanking in front of their class even go to class under those rules? They wouldn’t, unless they were shooting for that embarrassing scene in the first place. Some people / characters are all for this kind of thing, but most of the characters I create have a healthy desire to avoid such things. Meaning, they will hang out at the beach if they had the choice, I know I would.

The easiest way to fix the problem is by adopting a structured environment of enforceable rules which dictate the students’ actions in a way that requires them to face consequences even when they would rather not. Although, in some ways the environment can feel more like a high school at this point, it is still representative of a small portion of faith-based private colleges. That allows an aspect of realism into the story, but small enough that I can still wander through the story with a minimum of disruption. Really, the lines drawn between fact and fantasy are irrelevant because the story from its inception is fantasy, but it is nice to have that feeling which suggests even though the events are fictional, perhaps the environment is real. It makes the fantasy palatable and just a touch more exciting.

What remains is the ability to pull the reader from their reality and suck them into the fantasy I’ve created. Maybe that could be said in a nicer way, I by no means suggest that readers suck or should be sucked, but it is important that while reading a story they can suspend their disbelief and become a part of the fantasy. This is of course the most difficult challenge every author faces and it is because individually we draw our own lines at what we will believe and not believe. As an author all I can do is create a consistent environment that follows its own rules without variation. If I can do that, then I have created a fantasy which should not disrupt from itself and if you dare to step inside, you might just lose yourself, for a time, in the characters and their stories.

The Spanking Chronicles of Cedar Lake: For the General Assembly is just such a story and it is available now for immediate download at Lulu.com.

ps. Don’t forget to stop by Imagine the Stories, tomorrow for my weekly short story. This week we have a housemaid with more attitude than cleaning skills. I wonder what happens to her?

The Massive List of Projects Update

The Retreat

I’ve been promising an update on this project for a little while now, so here it is. The story has gone through a few twists and turns and ran headlong into a brick wall. I was tempted to wad the whole thing up and throw it away, but after leaving it alone for a little while, I’ve come back to seeing a way through the mess I started. What all this means is The Retreat is back on the agenda and with a new plan in place. I’m still working on it and I don’t want to say too much, because I already did that and got myself into trouble, but I am looking at a couple of different twists from the original ideas which make it easier for me to move the story forward. Primarily, the main character and her reasons for being at The Retreat are being reworked.

Now for those who forgot and those who just don’t know, The Retreat is a very special place where professionals are sent when their behavior has fallen short of their career’s expectations. It was referenced in the Quest Five story and ever since its first mention the idea has been churning for a first hand(person?) visit. The things I’m certain about with The Retreat are not numerous, but in short it is a place where corporal punishment is used liberally on its inmates. The inmates are required to stay within the facility until such time as their sentence is over and while the people running the place may seem unreasonable, even cruel, the inmates are their own worst enemies.

Currently, I have no final release date on the project, but I am expecting it to be done sometime in July.

Jessica’s Toil

This is the permanently delayed project. Just kidding. It has, unfortunately, been pushed back several times over though. Initially it was meant to be part one of a three part project, but as long as it has been pushed back I’m considering wrapping all three parts together when I finally get this project on the top of my priority list. Of course, if I do that, it means this story will still be a bit in coming because the tale is not a short one. I’ll have to update you again later when this project is a little more in focus.

What is it about? Well, Jessica’s Toil is fundamentally a love story. It takes place shortly after the American Civil War (as if war could ever be civil) and Jessica is a young woman who, like many of her generation, was orphaned during the war. Reaching the age of adulthood, she is about to be kicked out to the streets. With hardly any means to support herself, she jumps when she is offered a position of employment as a maid. It probably needs not be said, but as the maid, she soon finds herself on the receiving end of corporal punishment. At first, her problems are confined to the quality and quantity of her work, but as she becomes more comfortable with her employer and her duties, it is her mouth or rather the words coming out of it, that keep her in trouble. Not surprisingly, she falls in love with her employer, but there is a lot more than just their status in society keeping them apart.

Currently, no release date is planned. I would like to see it done before Fall, but there are many factors which can effect my goal. I’ll have to post another update on this one when it is a little closer to the top of the list.

Lyrics Are Lies

I was very focused on this story in the closing days of Quest Five and it remains one of my favorite ideas. Right now, it has been pushed back to make room for a few other ideas that came more recently. In my order of priorities it is shifting back and forth between coming after The Retreat or after Jessica’s Toil. If I can figure out how to do a poll I might ask what all of you are more interested in reading first, but in the meantime you can always weigh in anonymously (or not) in the comments for this post.

Lyrics Are Lies is set in the last days of prohibition in America, the early 1930’s. It’s an interesting time period because the Depression is in swing and at the same time a whole lot of social changes, technological changes, and political changes are going on. Mobs, gangs, organized crime is peaking with a backbone on supplying moonshine to the average man. Bank robbers are heroes, striking back at a system that failed everyone and the lines between right and wrong are so blurred the criminals and the cops can end up fighting on the same side.

Amidst all of this is the perfect setting for Lyrics Are Lies, which features a woman singer in a speakeasy who has essentially sold herself to a gang of mobsters in order to guarantee safety for her family. She never fools herself about the kind of people she is mixed up with and when she sings it is with a pessimistic heart and a voice that knows everything and everyone is wrong because there is no right left to choose. When an undercover FBI agent enters the fold, she knows, one way or another, her entire life is about to change and that means no one is going to be safe.

The release date will depend on this story’s priority in the list. I will have to update when this story makes its way to the top.

The Spanking Days of Summer

This is the top of the list. I am working away on this project and have pushed everything out of the way until it is finished. The main character has already become one my favorites and the rest of the characters are starting to feel a bit like family. This is probably the most fun I have had writing on a project since beginning Quest Five. I realize the placement of The Spanking Chronicles of Cedar Lake: For the General Assembly might have given the impression I valued it more, but rest assured that is not the case. Cedar Lake was a short term project which moved in front of Summer only because it required far less time to complete and I thought it would be well enjoyed by you, my readers.

The Spanking Days of Summer is all about Summer. Hot days, hot nights, no school, and partying all the time, oh wait, that’s not the story. In brief, the story is about a young woman forced to live with an Uncle she barely knows on his ranch. She’s trying to get her life together and find a way into college, but she has got some baggage that’s holding her down. Mostly, she does a lot of dreaming and thinking about doing things instead of actually doing things. Her Uncle has a few solutions for that and they all end up the same, bright red.

The release date is still in question, but I’m shooting for July 3, 2010. I hope everyone can wait that long.

The Spanking Chronicles of Cedar Lake: For the General Assembly

It is out and available on Lulu.com as a pdf download. My sincere thanks to all those who already purchased and I do hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

If you’re wondering what it’s about, Lulu has a free preview of most of the first chapter on the product page and here is a basic synopsis:

College senior Kylie Langston, is facing a formal school paddling before a general assembly of the Cedar Lake students and faculty. She has seen it happen before, but this time is different because Kylie did not do the crime. With an official Inquiry pending, she is off on a hunt to find who is setting her up and why. But things get complicated when she lands in the Dean’s office after confronting her chief suspect, former friend and roommate, Gabby Jones. The Dean is a stickler for the rules and he never plays favorites, handing Kylie one of the strictest punishments of her college career. Kylie’s troubles are far from over with a uniform restriction and Saturday detention hampering her investigation, can she solve the puzzle in time for her Inquiry or will she be for the general assembly?

The Spanking Chronicles of Cedar Lake

The Spanking Chronicles of Cedar Lake: For the General Assembly is available now. The story revolves around Kylie Langston, a college senior at Cedar Lake, who is accused of possessing alcohol on campus, a violation of the school's rather strict rule book. Kylie claims to be innocent and, while the school is investigating her, she begins investigating her own list of suspects, landing herself in all sorts of trouble-filled situations.

Cedar Lake is a rather unique college. The operation of the school has more of a high school feel about it, with the students required to attend all their classes, show up on time, and avoid disrupting the class. To maintain strict adherence to the school's rules, corporal punishment is the order of the day for correcting any student missteps. The ultimate sanction is a disciplinary session carried out before a general assembly of the students and faculty.

One of my readers posed an interesting question about creating and maintaining plausibility while still being able to create interesting and involving spanking and punishment scenes. With a story like Cedar Lake, it can be a difficult challenge and essentially impossible if the reader is demanding a reality or reality plausible story. Story writing is all about creating fictional worlds that make sense and that is the only way I know to keep a reader immersed in the story.

In order to create a world that makes sense, I find it easiest to begin with things most people can relate to as real. In the case of Cedar Lake, we have a structured college environment not unlike many faith-based private universities in the United States. For my personal preferences, I have stripped away the faith, but kept the institution otherwise intact. When it comes to discipline on these campuses, believe it or not most don't turn to the cane or paddle, they have a system of investigation known as a board of inquiry which will, after a review of evidence, decide on penalties for guilty parties. I found this a nice system which I could easily pervert into a tool leading toward the ultimate corporal punishment situations at Cedar Lake. There are minor other nods to real colleges and real college classrooms which help keep the story from straying too far from the normality of college life we all know and expect.

That however, is where the reality ends. In Cedar Lake's pursuit of justice, fairness, and order it employs corporal punishment and it does so without regard to a student's embarrassment, modesty, or general comfort. The real key to a plausible story from this point is all about staying true to the characters and the setting. If it snows in 100 degree temps, things aren't right and that's not a universe any of us can identify with. What I mean is; The punishments and the reactions to those punishments have to be in keeping with the framework of the story and the characters within it. As long as the setting and character don't act in a way contradictory to their development, the disciplinary scenes have a lot of room for exploration. Some readers may think I've gone too far with certain scenes or situations, others not far enough, and this is of course the crux of plausibility; The standards which must be met vary from reader to reader as an author I can't please everyone's personal tastes. I have to stick with creating a story that works for me and in so doing, I have to hope it works for a large number of my readers too.

The Spanking Chronicles of Cedar Lake: For the General Assembly is available for immediate download on Lulu.com as a PDF.

The Cheater of Cedar Lake

The following story is something of a prologue for my soon to be released project titled, The Spanking Chronicles of Cedar Lake: For The General Assembly. Cedar Lake is a fictional college where all students live on campus and attend classes according to a rigid schedule. The college has some unusual disciplinary policies which even the best behaved students can occasionally run afoul. This short tale is only a small taste of the characters and atmosphere, but if you enjoy it, I am rather certain you will enjoy Kylie Langston’s full story. Look for it Monday, June 7, 2010.

We all began our tutelage at Cedar Lake in the same year. I never boarded during my primary or secondary educational years and I was apprehensive at the prospect of sharing living space. It was my good fortune to be assigned a room with two young women who shared my apprehension and the reason for it. Our similar origins made us fast friends from the very first night. In the days and weeks to come we shared everything and for most of that first year I was certain nothing would ever tear us apart.

It was a hot night with stale air near the end of Spring term and the three of us were cloistered in our room with only a small oscillating fan to provide the semblance of cooling. Laying on our beds, clad in nothing more than the bare necessities of undergarments, we flipped through our books and notes, preparing for the upcoming, final exams. The hour was getting late, soon to be lights out, and I was less than halfway through the material I needed to cover before morning. Frustrated, I sat up and yanked on the ends of my hairs, emitting a low growl.

Gabby said, “You’re going to be bald by the time we graduate.”

“If I don’t learn this stuff by morning, I might not ever make it to graduation in the first place,” I said.

Rachel shook her head at us and said, “You guys are seriously talking about graduation? It’s like three years away and that’s if we’re all really lucky.”

“Luck has got nothing to do with it,” Gabby said. “Besides, haven’t I told you, I’m on a three year plan.”

I rolled my eyes in disgust and said, “Yeah, you keep reminding us every chance you get.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Gabby said.

Rachel laughed and I shook my head, smiling. Gabby pretended to be offended for another ten seconds before bursting out in laughter herself. She tossed a wadded up page of paper at me, boinking me in the forehead. I grabbed hold of my pillow and jumped the distance between our beds, knocking her down sideways onto her mattress.

Rachel said, “Hey! Watch the noise or we’re going to get in trouble again.”

“Lighten up,” Gabby said, “we’re just blowing off stress. You should try it sometime.”

“I’d rather not get a spanking the night before I have to spend three hours sitting through an English exam,” Rachel said.

“Are you sure?” I said, “I’ve heard a good spanking before exams can help one concentrate.”

“How is concentrating on how much my butt hurts, going to improve my grammar?” Rachel asked.

Gabby said, “By stopping you from over thinking everything.”

I took my pillow across the room to Rachel and plopped it against her bottom. She looked up at me with quizzical eyebrows. Gabby laughed and I said, “There, a spanking without the long term aftereffects. You should be all set and stress free.”

Rachel said, “I don’t think it’s working.”

I raised the pillow above my head and whacked her bottom again. Rachel blinked at me. I shrugged and repeated the process with a bit more enthusiasm. The pillow bounced up from her bottom after impact and I just followed through bringing it up and back down a few more times until my arms got tired. Rachel laughed at my effort until I stopped.

“Hey, don’t stop! I was just starting to feel nice and cool with all that breeze you were making,” Rachel said.

A knock on the door came as I was swinging the pillow one more time. Rachel rolled onto her side shaking her head between Gabby and me. Gabby shrugged and swung her feet onto the floor, intending to open the door. I tossed the pillow back on my bed and chewed on my lower lip.

Rachel said, “I told you we were going to get it.”

Gabby opened the door. A young woman with an administration badge on her blazer held a note in her hand. She said, “I’m looking for Gabriella Jones.”

“I’m Gabby.”

“The Dean has requested your presence straight away,” The woman said.

Gabby looked back at Rachel and I. We all shrugged. It was fairly unusual for the Dean to request to see anyone after hours. The only thing I could come up with was in the form of something urgent and personal to Gabby, like a family member taking ill. I did not want to be the one to say it and so I kept my thoughts to myself.

Gabby turned back to the messenger and said, “Do you think he’d mind if I got dressed first?”

The woman said, “He doesn’t like to be kept waiting, but I’m sure if you’re quick it will be fine.”

Gabby grabbed her discarded uniform from the floor. Five minutes later she was out the door looking like a professional college student. I sat down on my bed and picked up my papers to study. Rachel looked at her book for a moment and then snapped it closed and sat up on her bed.

She said, “What do you think is happening?”

I shrugged.

“Come on,” She said, “You were thinking something. I saw it in your eyes.”

I said, “I’m not wishing it or anything, but it’s got to be bad news.”

“Isn’t going to see the Dean always bad news?” Rachel asked.

I smiled and said, “Not on graduation day.”

“You think someone died?” She asked.

I nodded and said, “I hope not.”

It was long after lights out when Gabby returned. I woke to the sound of the door closing even though she tried to be quiet. She laid down on her bed without bothering to undress and a few moments later I heard the unmistakable sounds of crying. Her tears were muffled by a pillow and she obviously did not want us to know. I laid still in the dark, not wanting to disturb her and at the same time wanting to offer her some comfort. When her sobs subsided, I drifted off to sleep only to wake in the morning and find her gone.

After first lesson finals, the three of us arrived in the cafeteria and shared a table by the window overlooking the central lake. Gabby looked tired. We munched on a shared tray of french fries and pretended it was just a normal day. Once the initial rush into the cafeteria ended, Gabby leaned in closer to us and cleared her throat.

She asked, “Have you guys heard anything?”

“About what?” I asked.

Gabby said, “About me.”

Rachel and I shared a glance before shaking our heads.

“What happened last night?” Rachel asked.

Gabby said, “I met with the Dean.”

I said, “We know that part.”

“I wasn’t finished,” Gabby said. “I met with the Dean and he started asking me all kinds of questions about my grades.”

Rachel said, “Maybe you’re going to get an award.”

Gabby shook her head and said, “Not any kind that I’m interested in getting. He asked about my grades and then he started asking me random questions, like some sort of oral exam.”

“Did you pass?” Rachel asked.

“I said it was like an exam,” Gabby said shaking her head. “It wasn’t a pass or fail sort of thing. He just kept going with these questions, making my head spin, and then he tells me, I’ve been accused of cheating.”

“By whom?” I asked.

Gabby said, “He wouldn’t say. I told him I don’t cheat, that I never would and all, but then he tells me that I answered a few of his questions differently than I did on my tests. He considered that to be like some kind of indication the allegations are true. Like anyone remembers that kind of stuff months after they’ve taken the tests.”

“I do,” Rachel and I said together.

“Yeah, well you two are freaks of nature,” Gabby said.

“So you’re saying you didn’t cheat?” I asked.

Gabby frowned at me and said, “Come on Kylie, you know me. I would never cheat, no matter what. You both know that.”

“It doesn’t sound good,” Rachel said.

“It’s a disaster,” Gabby said, “They’re calling an official Inquiry into it because I’m refuting the charges.”

“Maybe you should just admit to it,” I said.

Gabby blinked at me and said, “You’re joking right? Cop to something I didn’t do just to avoid an official Inquiry? It’s not going to happen and I don’t think you’d do it either.”

I said, “Look, all I’m saying is you’ve already admitted you don’t remember some of the lessons and your response to the Dean’s questions are going to go against you at the Inquiry. It might be better to just admit to it and avoid the potentially devastating consequences of an Inquiry.”

Gabby said, “I didn’t do it. That has to count for something and as far as consequences go, we’re talking about cheating. Even if I said I did it, the Dean would not go light. I’d probably still get a general assembly.”

Rachel asked, “Can you prove you didn’t cheat?”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that? Could you prove you haven’t cheated?” Gabby asked.

“I wouldn’t need to prove it, my answers would be the same today as they were when I originally took the tests unless I was guessing in the first place,” Rachel said.

“Aren’t I entitled to a presumption of innocence?” Gabby asked.

I said, “This is a Cedar Lake Inquiry, not a court of law. Besides, they would not have accused you in the first place if there was not strong evidence against you. If you haven’t been cheating you need to prove it and if you have, you should come clean before the Inquiry.”

“I can’t believe you both think I would cheat,” Gabby said.

“We didn’t say that,” Rachel said.

Gabby shoved her chair back from the table and stood up. She glared at Rachel and I, clearly angry with us and then turned and stalked off. I glanced at Rachel and we shared a shrug. There was nothing we could really do to help Gabby, especially if she was going to insist on being innocent beyond all reason. I had never really thought much about it before, but her stellar results with minimal study time were more than a little suspicious.

It was not until after the Inquiry we spoke about it again. Rachel and I were waiting in our room, pretending to be busy studying, but with finals over and the Summer term yet to begin, there was nothing to really study. Gabby returned with tears streaming down her face. I was not surprised although I did hope she was going to be proven innocent. The facts had gone against her and for some reason she refused to admit what was blatantly obvious to everyone else; She had cheated.

“I’m sorry,” I said, offering her a box of tissues.

Rachel and I sat on opposite side of her, trying to offer some comfort.

Gabby looked at me and said, “No, you’re not sorry one bit. You think I’m as guilty as they say I am.”

Rachel said, “The evidence was not in your favor.”

“The system doesn’t work,” Gabby said. “I did everything right and they presented lies against me. The only way I could have won was to invent my own evidence in opposition.”

I said, “They would have seen right through it.”

“Then why didn’t they see through the other?” Gabby asked.

Rachel said, “You know it’s probably not too late. You could go to the Dean and apologize. He’s a reasonable man.”

Gabby scoffed and said, “You only think that because you’ve never faced him like I did. Besides, I won’t apologize for something I didn’t do. I don’t care what they do to me, it will never make me guilty and I’ll never be sorry for saying so.”

“If you aren’t guilty, then tell me how you can never study and get better grades than anyone else in the entire Freshmen class?” I asked.

Gabby shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I just do it and I’ll still be doing it next year because I’m not cheating and I can’t change who I am.”

Rachel said, “Nobody is asking you to change who you are, we’re just trying to understand how you can do what you do, how they could find answer keys in your private locker, and you can look us in the eyes and swear you didn’t cheat. Something doesn’t add up.”

“No kidding,” Gabby said, “The only answer is someone set me up, but I don’t know why, who, or how.”

“So it’s a conspiracy is it?” I asked standing up and moving away from her. “I suppose Rachel and I are your chief suspects too?”

“I never said that,” Gabby said.

“You might as well have,” I said. “No one else on campus would have sufficient access to do what you’re suggesting.”

Gabby looked at me and nodded saying, “Yeah, you’re right. Maybe it was you. You’ve always been jealous of my three year plan and you’re always whining about how long it takes you to learn stuff. I should have seen it before.”

Rachel said, “Maybe it’d be best if we all just calmed down a minute.”

“Nothing is going to change in a minute, an hour or a year,” I said. “Gabby is a cheater and rather than admit it and apologize for it, she’d rather blame us and everyone else.”

“I am not a cheater!” Gabby said, jumping to her feet and swinging her hand to slap me across the face.

The noise echoed in our room, punctuated by the silence that fell between us. I shook my head at her and fought back the tears threatening to slip from my eyes. We had been the best of friends, I had trusted her and she had betrayed all of that trust from the very start. Faced with the evidence, she chose blind refusal and pretended to believe someone was out to get her, perhaps even me. I thought of slapping her back, but escalating the situation would not penetrate her denial nor would it serve any good for either of us. Instead, I walked out the door.

I wandered out of the dorm and followed the walking path down to the lake. The air was still and steamy, bringing a sweat to my forehead. I walked the perimeter of the lake, listening to the sounds of birds rustling in the trees and ducks quacking on the water. In time my anger faded. Gabby was having a hard day and I had pushed a little too hard in my effort to help her admit the truth. Maybe I deserved the slap, even the accusation, but Gabby needed her own wake up call as well.

Lost in my musings, I nearly forgot my appointment in the administration office to go over my schedule for the next term. My watch said the meeting was in five minutes and I was on the wrong side of the lake to get there in less than twenty. Sprinting all the way, I had nearly made it to the administration building’s door when a whistle shrieked behind me.

An authoritative woman said, “Stop right there, young lady.”

I skidded to a stop an arms length from the door. Turning around I saw for certain she was talking to me. She approached, walking as if to illustrate what I had been doing wrong. I swallowed my nerves and smiled at her, hoping she would be the kind to accept a reasonable explanation.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was running--

She said, “Yes, you were and you look like you’ve been here long enough to know better.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said. “I was late for my appointment.”

“You should have left earlier and then you would not be late,” She said.

“I lost track of time,” I said.

“Let’s go on inside and see if you’re late enough to avoid getting a spanking,” She said.

“I rather doubt I am, Ma’am,” I said.

She smiled and said, “As do I, but let’s just make certain. Who is your appointment with?”

“Professor Warner,” I said.

Together we walked inside the administration building and found Professor Warner, waiting in his office. He looked up when I knocked on his open door. The woman escorting me stepped inside and the two exchanged greetings. All eyes turned to me and I looked down at the floor, chewing on my lip as my escort explained about my running.

Professor Warner said, “Miss Langston, I am rather disappointed. You have been an exceptional student, but your recurring tardiness is simply unacceptable. I have half a mind to make you reschedule your appointment with me.”

I said, “I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll do whatever you require.”

“The first thing you’re going to do is get your little bottom spanked,” Professor Warner said.

I nodded. It was exactly what I expected, exactly what my escort expected. Two spankings at the same time, just what every girl dreams about. I looked between them and decided a joke was not a good idea to verbalize. She looked a bit more relaxed than Professor Warner, but neither of them were looking anything less than stern.

“Go and stand by the lockers over there,” She said, pointing to the wall opposite Professor Warner’s office.

I trailed over and was quickly followed by the pair of them. Professor Warner carried a leather paddle with him. The fortunate part was with the school between terms, there was no one around other than the three of us.

“Lean against the lockers, bottom out and lift that skirt out of the way,” Professor Warner said.

I obeyed without hesitation, baring my white panties for them to see. The first swat came almost instantly. She was apparently up first and her aim and technique were quite impressive. My bottom did not want to stay still from the start. She made every swat count with lots of sting and even more follow through. I think she was trying to wear a hole through my panties to get to my bare bottom. It would have been easier to lower them out of the way, but I guess that would have spoiled her fun.

After an even dozen, she stopped and gave Professor Warner his turn. I kept my hands against the locker and mostly kept my feet on the ground, but my bottom pretty much danced the entire space in between. He only gave a dozen himself. The problem was my bottom was already burning when he started so you can imagine the inferno blazing by the time he finished. After the last wallop, I was hopping up and down, holding my bottom like it might fall off. I realize there was no actual danger of bottom droppage, but with the heat and sting emanating from it, I was up for some creative, wishful thinking.

“Straighten up and compose yourself,” Professor Warner said, “You’re a college girl, act like it.”

Getting a hold of myself, I said, “Sorry, Sir. It just hurt.”

The woman said, “When people run on walk paths, someone always gets hurt. Remember that and be glad this time the only person getting hurt was you.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said.

Professor Warner said, “Seeing as you were both late and running, I feel it is appropriate to take a small additional measure and I hope it gives you an extra reason to think about the things you have done wrong here to day. Remove your skirt and hand it to me. I will retain until tomorrow evening when you can reacquire it here provided you arrive, walking and on time.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said, looking at him before lowering my gaze and reaching around myself to unfasten my skirt.

It slipped away from my body and I quickly folded it before handing it to him.

“When you return tomorrow we will discuss your schedule and then you may have your skirt back. In the meantime, you are dismissed back to the dorm where I am certain your peers will want to know all about how you lost your skirt,” Professor Warner said.

He was right. There was not a chance of anyone seeing me and not wanting to know the story. I walked out of the administration building keeping my head low and forcing myself not to run despite the overwhelming desire to hide inside my room as quickly as possible. The white of my panties was like a reflector beacon on the path with the sun already set and the path lights flickering to life.

“What happened?” Gabby asked approaching me from the direction of the dorms.

I stopped on the path near her and said, “I was running late and running on top of it.”

“Professor Warner?” She asked and I nodded.

She asked, “How long did he take your skirt away for?”

“A day,” I said.

“That sucks,” She said.

“I’ll live,” I said. “It’s not like I didn’t do the crime.”

“Yeah, that always makes it easier to accept,” Gabby said. “I’m sorry about slapping you earlier. It was wrong and I was just mad. Not mad at you, just mad at how badly everything went.”

“It’s okay,” I said, “I wasn’t exactly being the comforting friend you needed.”

“Still friends?” She asked.

I nodded and said, “I’ll still be your friend even if you never admit what you did.”

The thin smile faded from her face and she said, “I didn’t do it and if you don’t believe me, I don’t need or want you as my friend.”

“Gabby, the evidence is plain as day,” I said.

“Believe what you want to believe,” She said, turning and walking away.

“It’s not what I want to believe,” I said to her back. “It’s the truth and sooner or later you’re going to have to deal with it.”

She kept walking away and never looked back. It was not the last time we spoke, we lived together for several more months, but it was the last time we met as friends. Gabby faced her general assembly and put it behind her without ever accepting her responsibility in it. Rachel tried to be a peacekeeper, tried to mediate our differences, and in the end she found as I did, Gabby had lost her way. When Gabby walked away, all I saw was the ending, but now I know it was really just the beginning.