This short story is an entry in the 2003 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
Category: Adult
The Driving School
By
Valerie Meilong <meilong@excite.com>
I looked at the clock. Two minutes to eight.
Curious. She's late. Unusual, especially as she wanted that film on Channel 4. Had she had an accident?
I was not unduly worried. The Cathedral Driving School had a good reputation. She would have been under supervision the whole time. I switched on the TV.
But she might have had an accident, I supposed. Only a fender-bender, I hoped.
Driving did not come naturally to her. I smiled as I recalled the times I'd tried to teach her myself, and the blazing rows that always resulted from her lack of hand-foot coordination. So we'd fixed up professional instruction lessons for her.
We've been married about two years and were still in the honeymoon stage, and although we'd had a few humdingers the making up was pleasant to say the least. I was in a win-win situation. If I was contrite after a row she loved the lovemaking I offered as an apology (and so did I!) or if I was masterful and whacked her bottom for her bad behaviour she seemed to like that too, or at least it aroused her (and I liked that too!)
It was gone quarter-past when she came in. She looked solemn; sort of subdued.
"I was beginning to worry," I said. "You said you'd be early. You wanted that programme."
She said nothing, but came and sat down beside me on the sofa. She wriggled a bit, and then moved close to me, half turning towards me. I put my arm around her and she snuggled tight. We watched the film for a moment but I could see she was not really interested.
"Difficult to pick up the story?" I asked.
She nodded.
I put my hand under her skirt and twiddled with the knob on her suspenders, letting the tip of my middle finger stroke the smooth flesh of her thigh.
She did not react to my stroking. Something was wrong, I could tell.
"Has something happened?" I asked gently. "Did you have an accident at the Driving School?"
"No," she said. "Nothing like that."
"But something's happened," I insisted. "Tell me."
There was a long silence.
We'd stopped watching the film, so I turned the TV sound down.
I looked at her, "Well, something has happened, hasn't it? Tell me."
She looked up and I noticed her eyes were moist. "I hate that bloody driving school," she said vehemently."
I was startled. I knew she was not making much progress, but I didn't realise the lessons were distressing her so much.
I hugged her closely. "Come on. Tell me what has happened."
She swallowed, and then with her head down like a naughty schoolgirl said, "I was sent to the Senior Tutor."
"So?"
"He was very cross with me."
I smiled. "What did he do, shout at you?"
"More than that," she said tearfully. "He made me bend over his desk and then he gave me six of the best for repeated faulty gear changing."
The End
© Copyright Valerie Meilong, 11 July 2003
Reviews
Don A. Landhill <dlandhill(at)aol(dot)com>
This was a very nice story. I kept expecting a husbandly spanking -- only to find myself with a schoolgirl spanking instead. Nice twist. A good solid entry.
Pablo <pablo(dot)stubbs(at)newsguy(dot)com>
A driving school is a scenario that's ripe for some good-old fashioned, non-consensual, coercive spanking fun, but this use of it falls a little bit flat. The point of view seems wrong: why do we spend the story with the husband, when the real narrative takes place elsewhere? So much of the story seems to be build-up towards a great revelation or punch line, but when it comes it's not really strong enough.
There's some scope for a great story here, but this piece seems oddly to purposefully avoid that.
Brad <b_radleym(at)yahoo(dot)com(dot)au>
I liked the story because it presented a new angle. The usual take on this type of story is the instructor-student driver relationship.
I know there is a constraint regarding maximum number of words but this time, I felt the ending came too soon. I would have liked to see how the story would have played out.