Fringe Benefits

This short story is an entry in the 2001 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments

Damn! Michelle had been planning simply to check her e-mail before going to her first class. Instead she ended up worrying all through Spanish and English Lit. When they eventually finished she trekked across campus to Graveston Hall, the faculty admin office block. Room 312 turned out to be in a corner of the third floor. It had a sign on the door reading, "No. Go Away," in place of the usual nameplate. She knocked anyway.

A man's voice answered, "Come in." She opened the door and saw he had a wrinkled face, and was in his late fifties. He was sitting at one of three computers, typing away. "Hi, I got a message when-"

"Ah!" he said, and stopped typing. He picked up a diskette from a stack at his elbow, then turned to face her. "You posted 'Make Money Fast' to forty-two newsgroups over the weekend. I got twenty-three complaints, plus the notice from the despammer. Here, is the hate mail that arrived before you exceeded your mail quota, and was shut down." He handed over the floppy, and added, "If you'd like your account reactivated this semester, pay the 130 dollars at the bursar's office."

"Five dollars per complaint plus fifteen dollars for the new account," he said, turning back to his computer.

"B-but I can't afford that. And I need to pay for my classes, and have to have access to the web for some of them."

She bit her lip. "Isn't there any way out of this?" He started typing again, and without looking up he said, "Well, they haven't rescinded the corporal punishment option."

"It's a regulation written back in the 1930s, before the school went co-ed. You can substitute one swat with a paddle for each five dollars of a fine. Mainly used to pay off parking tickets in those days."

She calculated rapidly. Ooh! Twenty-six swats! She bit her lip again, considering what her alternatives were. She could go to her parents, but if she went to them with a plea for 130 dollars they'd go ballistic. She could drop a class, but when they found out they would explode even more violently.

He pressed 'enter' and a laser printer started up. "The rules specify the standard fraternity paddle, but I've only got that one," he said, and nodded towards the closed door. Hanging from the coat hook was a black ebony ruler.. It had a neatly carved handle, but the main length was exactly twelve inches long, one inch wide It was slightly thicker at the middle but the edges were quite thin. He'd picked it up in an old antique shop he stumbled across some years ago, and he had realized at once how useful it would be. "You can have a witness present of your own choosing, and, oh, er…it has to be applied to the bare bottom." She blinked, and let the information sink in. It didn't look too fearsome a weapon, better than the Frat paddle. She wasn't too keen on the bare bottom bit, though.

"I do, and I can do it whenever you like. Personally, I think you're better off paying the fine, but that's entirely up to you." He handed the printout to her. "Here's the consent form."

Michelle skimmed over it. It was couched in legal language, but specified carefully that she freely gave her consent, and absolved the school of any responsibility. It said in essence what he had already told her about witnesses, and how the paddle was to be applied, and referred to the school rulebook in a couple of places. She thought deeply. Shit! It's 2001, and what's a bare bottom these days. And she could have the paddling in private for there was nobody she wanted as a witness. Besides, he didn't look as though he'd be too fierce. And it seemed preferable to get it over with before she lost her nerve, too. She sighed, signed the consent form, and handed it back. Then she looked at him, blushed, and said, "Can I get it over with? Can I have it straight away, er… the er… the paddling?" He nodded. "Certainly. No sweat."

He stood up, walked around her, took down the ruler, and tapped it gently on his left palm. "OK, lower your panties and bend over my desk."

He watched her as she pulled down her underwear, flipped up her skirt, and bent over. He ran his eyes over her garter belt, noting that she'd fastened the straps correctly so that they didn't twist the stockings, something that few girls seemed to be able to do properly these days. He gave a faint smile, and thought to himself, "Boy, they fall for it every time. Maybe this job is mostly dull routine, but it does have a few fringe benefits."

**********

Those web-surfers with keen eyesight and a good memory will recognize this story. The concept, which is a damn good one, was not originally mine. Sure, I have stolen the idea. So sue me. Frankly I don't care. Besides, I am sure that I have improved on the presentation, so there.

Valerie Meilong.

Naomi Darvell <naomi_darvell(at)hotmail(dot)com>
<<Quote of the author's explanation>>
Hmmm... Is this what's known as literary bratting? A brash claim, but I'll go along with it. The spanker is a wonderfully typical beaurocratic figure. I love the way he *slips in* that the punishment will be administered on the bare bottom. And wouldn't you know there'd be some boondoggle going on here? Nice job.

LAR <lds627(at)home(dot)com>
As Valerie pointed out this is not an original idea. Point of fact, I wrote a similar story the first year A.S.S. was up. Just the same it was well written, and entertaining.