“Sally Mae,” he addressed her directly, “You’ve probably had guilt these feelings for several years. You left Jonestown feeling guilty ten years ago. You came back to Jonestown this week with those feelings. You don’t want to leave here with them again, do you?”
She didn’t respond.
“You and I need to take care of this,” he paused and put his hand on her arm. “I think what you really need is a good spanking.”
Sally Mae thought. Perhaps he was right. Maybe this was the reason she was so anxious over the whole trip to Jonestown. For her, it was a trip back in time. Then and there for a few short minutes, she was a student again.
“Yes, Sir I deserve to . . .” her voice trailed off into oblivion.
Mr. Robertson took control of the situation.
“Bend over and put your hands there on the desk,” he pointed.
Sally Mae hesitated for only a moment. There was little she could do to escape the truth. It had been too long since she’d felt the sting of her father’s belt on her backside, and Mr. Robertson was quickly becoming a worthy substitute. His mentoring would take a different form. She surrendered to his will and slowly bent over to put her hands exactly where he’d pointed.
“This is a very nice dress, Miss Johnson,” he flattered her. “I would not want to damage it, why don’t we just move it out of the way.”
He slowly lifted her velvet hem, first exposing her upper thighs then her black cotton panties.
“Please, Mr. Robertson this is embarrassing,” she mumbled, staring blankly at the chair behind the desk.
