By Cynthia Blaine
[This story includes bodily functions as well as significant discipline. If any of this offends you, please read no further. You might enjoy this story more if you read the first two chapters first, but you don't have to do that. All characters are 18 or over.]
I'd been adjusting well to my first term at Stanford. It was amazing, I thought, that no one talks about the weather here: it's always nice. I knew that come January, there could be a rainy season, but it was hard to fret about that now. People were bright here, very bright, but the climate tended to take the edge off the arrogance that all these smart people would likely be exhibiting in the East.
I found it hard to resist the girls, either. They were always dressed for warm weather, and I decided I'd make a determined effort not to stare. One woman introduced herself to me when I was having coffee one morning.
She was more than attractive and dressed charmingly in shorts, very short shorts, and a nice blue top that was just thin enough to make it clear she was going braless. And it wasn't that she wasn't pretty well endowed. Her name was Terry and I tried not to stare into her face too much (to avoid staring at her chest).
She had dark red hair, worn in a clever cut I liked a lot--in fact, I found everything about her easy to like. We talked for quite some time. She was from Oregon, it turned out, but decided to aim for Stanford because she figured she could get in. I didn't bother trying to figure out just how smart she was; I just assumed she was.
I told her I'd been planning to go to a play that was on that evening and casually asked if she'd like to go with me. She smiled and said she had hoped I would ask her to do something like that. We talked about what we had heard or read about the play, and it sounded like there was a good chance it would be good.
She told me she was living in a dorm and explained how to get there. We agreed I'd meet here there at 6:30. As we left the café, she smiled at me and said she was glad she had started up a conversation with me. I responded by telling her I felt the same way. We fist-bumped before we went our separate ways.
The play turned out to be as good as our expectations had been for it. It was a comedy but with a serious side and denouement. We did laugh a lot but then sobered up at the end.
After we'd left the show, I mentioned that there was a good place for "coffee and" on the way to my place. Terry seemed pleased by my suggestion, and we did stop and have coffee and shared a fruit and cheese plate. I hadn't suggested drinks (other than coffee) and after we'd finished and walked out, I said I'd love it if she wanted to stop back at my place.
I think she had decided that I wouldn't turn out to be a guy who would get her up to his room and then maul her. She nodded yes and soon we were walking down the corridor of the small campus residence where I'd managed to get a room. It was nice mostly because it didn't seem too much like the dorm it really was.
I had my own room and when we entered, I offered Terry the armchair and I sat on the bed. She decided to sit next to me on the bed and when she sat down next to me, I took the plunge and gave her a kiss. We talked and compared our early experiences on the campus of the Farm, as students call Stanford. She was surprised that I was an English major, and I did explain that I'd had a high school teacher who turned me on to lit. I didn't mention what else Lauren Kaden had turned me on to.
She said she was a physics major but liked astronomy too. I told her that I wasn't totally oblivious to reality, so I was minoring in computer science. She laughed and responded that she had never been accused of being all that pragmatic. I decided to come clean, so I did tell her that I'd had a very dominant physics teacher.
Her eyebrows rose at that, and she asked if I would mind saying a bit more about that. I had to explain that I had gone to an elite high school, but it was very old-fashioned in one respect. She looked like she was dying for me to go on, so I did. I admitted that it was very strict and with parental consent, the teachers were free to discipline us, most of them by using a paddle, but a few teachers, primarily young women, believed in caning and spanking.
"You mean some young woman teacher spanked or...caned you?" Terry asked, incredulously. "That they did," I confessed. She took that in and surprised me, although I shouldn't been.
"Jack," she said evenly, "I think I'd like to spank you some time. You may think this is weird, but that kind of thing does turn me on."
I grinned at her and chuckled, "Oh, you just want to get into my pants," and I reached over and kissed her.
"I guess I could spank you for taking that little liberty of kissing me, Jack," she said, affecting a sternness that I'd not seen before.
"I guess you could, if I agreed," I answered blandly.
"I think you should," she said cutely. "I think you'll like it."
I asked her if she had ever been spanked, much less caned. She responded that she'd tell me after she spanked me.
I decided this could turn out all right, and I definitely had experienced spanking before, both at home from my mom and at school from Miss Kaden and Miss Benton, and there were others, too.
"OK." I said.
"Unbuckle your belt and take down your pants," Terry said, and it was said in a normal tone of voice without any indication that she was ordering me to do it. I was going ahead with this by my own decision, or preference.
I complied with what I regarded then as her request. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, in her sweater and skirt. She patted her lap, and it was totally clear that she meant for me to place myself across it.
I did just that and it felt funny being across a female lap yet again.
"You should understand, Jack, that I'm spanking you because you have been very nice, but you didn't bother to ask me if I wanted you to kiss me," Terry then said as I was across her skirted lap. "As it happens, I was happy that you kissed me, but you didn't know I would feel that way. So that's why I'm going to spank you for being naughty."
Then she told me to lift my midsection and I knew that meant she was going to pull down my boxer shorts, which she proceeded to do. I was glad she couldn't see that I had a real hard-on, but it turned out that when she opened her legs a little, my hard-on slipped right down between her thighs, which she closed on it to trap it between them. I decided then and there that Terry had some experience in spanking and possibly other forms of dominance.