Читать книгу Shadow Lane Volume 10: The Spanking Adventures of Amanda Sands - Eve Howard - Страница 10

Chapter Three Amanda’s Diary November

November 1st

“You can’t be in love with your professor,” Alicia remonstrated with me this morning, “it’s a cliché.”

But how can I help it when Mr. Keen is so adorable, so grave, so tall and lean and handsome? I am horribly in love. I write his name in the margins of my notebooks. I hang around after every class, with the cleverest questions I can think of, just to hear his voice and feel his gaze upon my face. I know he’s onto me. His dark eyes mock me while he makes polite, concise, informative replies, punctuated with pleasant smiles and always a quick glance at his watch to let me know I’m on his time.

November 3rd

I think of Mr. Keen night and day and it is pleasant to do so. It is good to be in love. But can I have him? Is it in the realm of possibility? He’s not married. He’s only roughly twice my age, so it wouldn’t be obscene. I’ve seen him play squash. He’s fit and trim. It would not be an embarrassment to view his unclothed limbs. Oh why, why did I have to be given a teacher who so exactly resembles Richard Widmark?

I wonder if Mr. Keen has ever spanked a girl. Would it be awful if he weren’t the slightest bit dominant? Would I fall instantly out of love? I think I would. I’m not sure why, but I think I would. I sometimes think I’m ready for a master. But suppose Mr. Keen is unsophisticated? Suppose he fails to appreciate the gift the gods of love are handing him?

Then, obviously, I will cease to adore him. He will have proven unworthy. But I sense he is worthy! I feel he will know exactly what to do with me, and how.

November 4th

Hugo says the only way to make sure a man is fully dominant is to try to tempt him to go submissive to you. He says that men who are submissive or switchable can never resist the temptation to receive corporal punishment from a good-looking woman or girl. But a dominant man will always suggest the reverse, because that is his primary wish and we all do what we want to.

I said to him, “You don’t think it would be wrong for me to try to get my most beloved professor to make love to me, do you?”

“That depends. Do you think the guy is cool enough to handle it, or could it make trouble for you in the long run? You can’t jeopardize Harvard.”

I said I didn’t know if he was cool or not.

“Try to run into him after hours and get him to smoke pot. Then you’ll know.”

Easier said then done. I’d have to stalk the guy to find out where he spends his off hours. And that’s not right. That could get me in trouble.

November 5th

The most wonderful thing has happened! Mr. Keen has invited his entire class over to his house for a wine and cheese party. I can see where and how he lives.

November 7th

Mr. Keen’s wine party took place at his nice, old house in Cambridge, where he lives alone with a group of cats. I felt it was a place I’d enjoying visiting repeatedly. The sitting room has a lovely fireplace. We could see it begin to snow through the windows. I’m told it doesn’t usually snow this early in the season, which portends a very cold winter.

I was the last to say goodbye to Mr. Keen at the door and since no one was looking except one of the cats, I seized the opportunity to lightly press my lips to his. He stared at me in confusion for a moment then finding his voice, lightly admonished me, “What’s this all about? Are you being naughty? Go on, go home!” I was dismissed with a smack on my bottom!

November 8th

Hugo just called with advice to the effect that this whole thing could backfire on me severely. The love object could turn out to be a by-the-book philistine who might put me on report instead of receiving the proffered gift with untold gladness. Then he suggested I come out to Random Point for the weekend and he’d set me up with a good looking, local English teacher who was in the scene and could point out the error of my ways and maybe make me see reason. I decided to wait until I got to RP to confess that I’d already made my first move. Anyway, the schoolteacher sounds exciting!

I’m writing this in the train. Just like Oscar Wilde!!!

November 9th

Yesterday will go down in my short history as one of the best.

I’m writing this in the window seat of the Ball and Feather dining room where I am enjoying an enormous buttermilk biscuit, drenched in butter along with strong English tea. The snow is falling steadily outside and is about a foot deep at this point. Hugo’s gone to chat with the innkeeper, so I can make this entry on my laptop.

Hugo met me at the station and took me directly to his shop, where Laura had been minding the counter. She made us all some coffee and produced some sandwiches for me that were lovely.

“So,” Hugo said, “you want to meet Mr. Lawrence, the English teacher?”

“I do want to meet him!” I replied, “and have dressed accordingly.” I had on my new black thigh high boots, textured tights, a short, grey pleated skirt and a black polo sweater.

“Well then, you can take my car and drive up the cove road to meet him. Here’s the directions and the address,” Hugo said, handing me the keys to his old Jag and a printout of the directions.

“David is very handsome,” Laura told me when Hugo turned away to call my date and warn him of my imminent arrival.

“It’s true,” said Hugo, who had heard. “He’s got lovesick teenagers throwing themselves at him every other day.”

David Lawrence was waiting for me in the doorway of the little dollhouse he and his wife Hope live in, called Cobweb Cottage. They were right. The guy is A+ all the way, from face to form to dress to voice. I’ll always think of him as “The Voice” because I’ve never heard one as smooth, mellifluous and well modulated.

He showed me around the cozy interior in a minute. It was not large but it was wonderful. Apparently the site has a long history of being home to scene couples, passing from one to another as a precious jewel set above the jagged coast.

“Let me tell you something, honey, I’ve been harassed and driven crazy by more youngsters than I can remember. It’s not a pleasant sensation.”

“Oh, bosh,” I said. “Surely it’s an ego stroke?”

“Not one that I need or want!” he insisted. I could see what he meant. He was married to a former video model in the scene, a breathtakingly beautiful blonde in her mid-twenties. She runs the coffee counter at Margaret Alexander’s bookshop and she’s magnetically attractive in body and spirit. David Lawrence doesn’t need his students coming on to him to feel sexy.

“Being in the scene,” I said, “haven’t you felt tempted to spank them?”

“I have spanked two of them,” he admitted ruefully.

“You let yourself go that far?”

“Somehow they found out I was in the scene. And they were too. But I merely spanked them. Well, pretty much so.”

“I have no idea if the professor I like is in the scene.”

“He probably isn’t.”

“He called me naughty when I kissed him the other day. And he gave me a parting swat.”

“H’m.”

“I know. It’s intriguing.”

“I don’t think you should pursue this, Amanda.”

“No?”

“I think it’s putting your professor in an awful spot. He could get fired for playing around with his student.”

I shrugged and protested, “I can’t take back the kiss now.”

“But you can resolve not to put the poor guy in this type of position.”

“I could.”

“I may help deepen that resolve.”

I didn’t let him grab me right away. I made him chase me around the little lodge-like sitting room. He’s a smoker and he got irritated with this pretty quickly. Smokers in their 30’s get winded fast. Finally he snagged me and put me over his knee. The cute part is that he spanked me through my tights. He never even tried to pull them down. Though they were sheer enough for the pink of my skin tone to show through the intricate charcoal knit. (I had omitted panties). I checked it out later in a mirror. It was a nice, good, long, hard spanking, with a slow, steady buildup and I blush to confess, an orgasmic climax. This occurred when he grabbed my wrist to prevent me putting my hand back to cover my belabored bottom and pinned it to my waist. Oh, that gesture. It slays me. Then he just kept going on and on, harder and harder and faster and faster. And I mini-came again.

He tried to make me stand in the corner but I didn’t want to. He was adamant. I stamped my foot at him. He took off his belt.

Again, I made him chase me. After all that hard spanking, he must have been tired! I led him around and around the cottage and out the back door. He caught me on the back porch and bent me over the wooden railing. It was cold out there but after a few seconds I ceased to notice that. He was still clutching his belt and I soon felt it!

“I can’t believe you would defy me after I went to all the time and trouble to counsel you today,” he remarked, as though shocked.

I took about twelve hard licks with the strap before giving in. I’m building up an interesting tolerance but even it has its limits. I allowed myself to be marched indoors again and stood in the corner.

David Lawrence regarded me over folded arms, leaning back against a bookcase.

“Well?” he asked, “Are you going to cut your teacher a break and leave him the hell alone?”

I shrugged and thought to myself, “He did give me a swat. That demonstrates the right instinct.”

“Save yourself the humiliation of being rejected and control your lust for your teacher!” was my new disciplinarian’s final exhortation to me before taking me out of the corner and giving my hair a pat and my cheek an affectionate caress. I put my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his lightly. His arms went around my waist.

“Now don’t start tempting me, young lady,” he warned. “I’m married!”

“Yes, I notice you didn’t even lower my tights. Admirable control, Mr. Lawrence.”

“That was out of respect of the fact that you’re Hugo’s daughter.”

“But, he sent me to you for a thrill.”

“You’re awfully confident for a baby,” said David, kissing me once behind each ear in a way that sent ripples through my tummy, then letting me go. “Thank you for the compliment, but I promised my wife I wouldn’t have sex with any eighteen year olds this year.”

I pulled away as I felt he wished me to do and kept my 1.5 spanking induced orgasms a secret from him, since he was so determined to behave well.

I asked him if I might email with him now and then and ask him questions about English literature and he gave me his address.

What a lovely man!