Copyright 2000 to <mollyb@newsguy.com> Please respect this copyright. Don't distribute or archive this story in any way except for personal use without explicit permission. No, it's not in the public domain. Ask first, okay? Thanks.

No Sabbatical from Spanking
by MollyB

As Jamie awoke, she felt Alan's right hand inside her light blue flannel pajama pants, resting lightly on her bottom. She snuggled toward him a bit, and as she struggled into morning consciousness, she remembered how that hand had given her one of the hardest spankings she had ever gotten, just the previous night.

Her shifting under the covers woke Alan, who hugged her even closer and, rubbing her bottom gently, asked, "How's my girl this morning?" as he kissed her forehead.

"Mmm. I'm fine, Alan." More quietly, "And I promise I'll start working on my paper today."

"Good girl." And then, "But I am still going to spank you again."

Jamie squirmed and blushed.

It was November, more than halfway through the fall semester that Jamie had been given off to do research and to write.

Alan had been shocked at his accidental discovery that Jamie had hardly done any work at all in months. He'd come home to hear the last part of her phone conversation with her friend Joan:

"I don't know. I just feel so terrible. I'm starting to get scared that I really won't get anything done at all. Uh huh. I know. I *did* really need a break. But I've done about 3 days' work all semester. I don't know where the time goes, but it does and then I notice . . ."

He knew that she had taken the summer off, and he was frankly relieved to see that, figuring she'd be devoting herself full-time to her research in the fall. But now the trees were bare of leaves, and the last warmish days were dwindling; dusk already came early. That panicky, pack-everything-into-the-last-weeks part of the semester was approaching, and had Jamie been at school, she probably would have been more aware of the passage of academic time as well as of the season. But she had been given research time and had no on-campus duties. Somehow or other, those precious weeks had slipped by, one by one as she did shockingly little work on the project she had set out for herself.

Alan had raised the issue of Jamie's research at dinner, managing to extract from her the fact that she had done almost none in months. In some ways, it was a relief to tell him, to have her secret out, to be able to share her fear that she'd waste her entire sabbatical. But Jamie felt more guilt and fear than relief.

As they cleared away the dinner debris, Alan said, "I'll expect to see you in my study shortly. You have been behaving like an irresponsible schoolgirl who hasn't been doing her homework, and that is how you will be dealt with."

As she dressed for the appointment in Alan's study, Jamie remembered how her hands shook the first time she tried to iron her white blouse and press pleats into her plaid skirt. Now she found the garments oddly comforting as she put on the familiar uniform, trying to push from her mind the punishment she knew was coming. This time she wore the white cotton panties that Alan expected as part of her uniform and not the white lace ones she mistakenly wore the first time. She pulled up her grey knee socks, made sure her oxfords were neatly tied. Looking in the mirror, she carefully checked her collar and tie, buttoned her navy blue blazer. As a last gesture, she ran her hairbrush through her hair absentmindedly; then she stared at the brush a moment, shuddered, and placed the heavy hairbrush down firmly on the dresser as if had she not done so, it might have followed her to Alan's study of its own accord.

"Jamie, I recall addressing your procrastination problem some time ago. That was bad enough, leaving your tenure application until the last minute. But this is at least as serious. You're not doing your work at all, and the 'last minute' is almost here. What do you have to say for yourself?"

What could she say? That having lunch with friends had cut into her library time? That she had spent more time online sending e-mail than doing searches? That she'd been busy writing spanking stories? That she'd developed a talent for doing nothing -- or at least, nothing that anyone might recognize as productive?

"And, just as bad, you have let me believe that you've been working this whole time."

It was true that Jamie had not disabused Alan of the notion that she was hard at work. She had already started to feel embarrassed and guilty for wasting so much time, and she felt that telling him would only make things worse. Besides, there never seemed to be a good time to announce "By the way, I haven't really been doing much work." So Jamie just let Alan go on thinking whatever he thought, sometimes even responding with a guilty "Fine" when he asked how things were going.

"There didn't seem to be a good time to mention it," she said quietly.

"You have behaved like a schoolgirl hoping no one would notice that she had not kept up with her homework. How long did you plan to continue doing nothing?"

Jamie hung her head, staring at her shoes as if to find some answer there. "Remove your blazer and leave it on the chair."

Hands shaking a little, Jamie did as she was told.

"Come here to me please."

Alan was seated in a straight-backed wooden chair. He reached out and took Jamie's hand in his. Their eyes met knowingly, and then as Jamie gasped, Alan helped her over his knee, her bottom high and her head near the floor. Jamie felt the cool air on her thighs as Alan folded her pleated skirt up on her back. Calmly he took the hem of her white blouse and tucked it up on her back as well. He rested his hand on the seat of her white cotton panties for a moment before slipping his fingers into the waistband to take them down past Jamie's thighs, baring her pale bottom. Jamie squirmed with embarrassment at finding herself in this childish position, waiting for her bottom to be spanked like a little girl's.

Alan's large hand smacked Jamie's right cheek, leaving a pink handprint; her left cheek soon had one to match. Before long, her whole bottom was a uniform shade of pink, and Jamie was fighting a losing battle to keep from kicking.

SMACK

"Stop that and take the spanking you have coming to you. You were very naughty, and this is only the beginning." Alan landed several smacks on Jamie's thighs, and she steeled herself and settled down, though not without protest.

"Owch! Alan, that hurts!"

SPANK

"Good. It's supposed to. You are going to be a girl with a very sore bottom tonight."

"But, Alan, I ..."

"But what? *Did* you do the work you set out to do?" SMACK

"No." SMACK SMACK SPANK

"Did you do any work at all?"

Jamie's kick was rewarded with a hard slap on her thigh. Although she couldn't think clearly enough to explain that yes, she had done *some* work, just not a lot of work, she knew that really wasn't going to get her very far with Alan, anyway.

"Did you tell me everything was "fine" whenever I asked you about it?"

Her silence only encouraged Alan to lecture her about broken promises to other people and to herself, about letting herself down most of all. Alan gave voice to the thoughts that had hung heavy on Jamie's conscience for awhile. As Alan lectured, he continued methodically landing spanks on Jamie's bottom. Tears turned to sobs. Alan gave Jamie a final half dozen hard smacks at the tender juncture of thigh and bottom and then let her lay over his knee and shake out the last of her sobs. He rubbed her back and then helped her stand on shaky legs.

Holding her hands between his as she stood facing him, he said, "Jamie, you know I love you very much."

Jamie sniffled and nodded. "And you know that your punishment is not over, right?" "Well, I do now."

Jamie stood in the corner, her bottom already blazing, and she thought about the weeks she had wasted doing nothing. She tried to be brave as she thought about the fact that her bottom still had more punishment coming. Alan had made it clear that he was taking her -- there was no other word for it -- her misbehavior -- seriously.

When Jamie's corner time was up, Alan instructed: "Write out a schedule of what you did with your time today. And I want the truth, Jamie, not what you *planned* to do today, but what you actually did."

It was true that there was quite a discrepancy between those two possible lists. The list of what Jamie actually had done, though clearly not off to a good start, was at least honest: 7:00 wake up 7:30 breakfast with Alan 8:00 computer 8:30 back to bed 10:00 computer 11:30 shower and get dressed 12:00 lunch with Joan Figuring that even this partial accounting was enough of an exercise to make the point, Alan interrupted Jamie as she stared at the paper in front of her.

"Ok Jamie, the first spanking was for letting me think you've been working all semester."

He looked at the partial list and, sighing, shook his head. "Now you have a paddling coming for wasting way more time than can possibly be excused." Alan sat down on the couch and asked Jamie to go get the paddle from his desk drawer and bring it to him.

Standing in front of Alan, Jamie looked at her feet as she extended the small oak paddle in his general direction. She wiped sweaty hands on the hem of her skirt.

"Over my lap now, miss."

Jamie blinked back the start of tears as she placed herself in the familiar position. This time, at least, her feet reached the floor. But that was soon small consolation as Alan took down her panties and paddled her bottom sore.

SMACK "This is what happens to girls who do no work during their sabbaticals." SPANK, SLAP, SMACK

"Ow, Alan, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I know you are, sweetheart."

SPLAT, SMACK

Alan finally put the paddle down on the table next to the couch. He rubbed a gentle hand over Jamie's hot scarlet cheeks. As she drew in deep gulps of air, he helped her to her feet and pulled her close to him. She put her head on his shoulder and snuggled into his arms.

"Alright sweetie, we're almost done."

Jamie pulled back and looked at Alan in teary disbelief. "Wh-what?"

"You have 6 of the best coming to you, and then we'll be all done with this."

"Alan, I can't. Please. You're being mean. You already spanked me enough. My bottom already really hurts."

"Jamie, you can, and you will. And this is serious. You've been punished in the past for procrastinating, and yet you have by your own admission done almost no work in these last weeks. You are wasting precious weeks when your only real responsibility is your research. You said yourself that you're worried about this, and I am going to make sure that you can start getting things done and stop worrying. Now be a brave girl."

With Alan's assistance, Jamie rested her middle over the arm of the couch, her arms on the seat cushion, and her toes touching the floor. Alan once more lifted Jamie's skirt and smoothed it and her shirt tail over her back, exposing the redness of her bottom and thighs. Jamie gasped and clenched her bottom cheeks as Alan swiftly lowered her white panties to meet her grey knee socks.

Alan placed one hand on the small of Jamie's back. With the other, he smoothed her hair and then ran a finger softly over the side of her face. Steeling himself for what he knew he had to do, he stepped back and picked up the thick rattan cane.

"Ok, Jamie. Six. Please count them for me."

Swish -- thwack --- "one"

and so on up to the final

Swish -- thwack --- and a delayed and relieved "ssssixx."

"All done Jamie. You're ok. Good girl."

Jamie stood up slowly and ran her hands over her bottom, feeling the heat and the weals, tears streaming down her face. She relaxed into Alan's arms as he held her to his chest. They were quiet for a while, needing closeness but not words.

After a time, Alan said, "Without the discipline of a teaching schedule, it seems you are unable to do any work at all."

Jamie actually nodded her head against Alan's wet oxford cloth in agreement.

Alan brushed her hair back, tilted her chin up so she'd look at him, and continued, "That is going to change now. Apparently you need more structure imposed. As part of that structure, each morning for a week you will be given a 'reminder spanking' for the day."

Alan smacked Jamie's sore bottom lightly. "Don't pout, young lady. This is for your own good, and you know it."

"But, Alan --"

"But what?"

"I don't want you to spank me and then leave me all alone all day. I'll feel horrible."

"Sweetheart, your sore bottom will remind you of me and how much I care about you. You'll be busy at work and then when you shift in your chair or stand to get a book, you'll feel the soreness and remember that there's someone who loves you enough to smack your bottom when you let yourself down."

"Alan, that's a really lovely thought. What romance novel did you get it out of?"

Seeming to ignore Jamie's taunt, but actually quite impressed that she still had it in her, Alan went on outlining his plan for the week. "I will take you over my knee and paddle your bare bottom for five minutes each morning. At the end of the day, I will ask to be brought up to date on your work for the day. If we agree that it has not been satisfactory, you will merit additional punishment. At the end of the first week, we will talk about how things are going and whether or not you will need 'incentive' for the remainder of your sabbatical." The remaining sabbatical weeks suddenly seemed like a lot of time to Jamie.

"Now, go wash up and get ready for bed. I'll be there in a minute to rub some lotion onto your tush and tuck you in."

Alan kept his word, and soon they were asleep in their usual positions, Alan on his back with Jamie on her tummy, her body right against his and her head on his chest.

That had all happened last night. And today Jamie was going to sit on a sore bottom and get to work. Right after she called Joan.

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