Wednesday, 21 March 2007

Allison's Bottom

This story is written for and inspired by a dear friend of mine, Kirsten Ellison, who is an excellent writer of spanking fiction. The story is mine but I have stolen a lot from her. It is a tribute and I hope she will like it and don't think me rude for putting poor Allison, the heroine of this story, in a very embarrassing situation. If you want to read some of Kirsten's work you should go here!

Allison hurried through the corridor. She was furious, she was angry, she was annoyed and frustrated. The blond brat in her class had managed to push all the wrong buttons, again. Jannike was tall, slim, delicate and very pretty. She had an angel's smile and very gentle manners. Seeing her for the first time you would adore her. But her innocent frame harboured the heart of a gargoyle. Allison hated her. She knew it was wrong to hate one of your pupils but she couldn't help it. They had had a discussion again and this time Jannike had been right.

Allison thought about spankings. She often did that when she was frustrated. Any other day she would have preferred to be at the receiving end and even in the rare cases when she delivered the smacks she was never angry. She never spanked in anger. Jannike had made her reconsider that. The delightful thought of having the young girl in her lap, relentlessly smacking her bottom made Allison feel guilty. Spanking was something she would never, ever, consider for her pupils. Spanking children was just wrong.

She was still frustrated as she walked into the common room and almost bumped into the man standing inside the door. He turned to her and she had to look up. He was not a big man but he was tall, slim and tall. She had never seen him before and for a while she felt lost and utterly bewildered.

'Allison, this is Theo, our new colleague, just arrived from the Netherlands,' someone said.

Allison stared into the new face. She smiled, trying to compose herself. She stood in awe for a second and then Theo turned to be introduced to someone else.

'Isn't he handsome?' a voice whispered in her ear, a voice belonging to a female colleague of Allison's. The other woman was some years older but the tone of her voice made her seem like she was thirteen.

That bewildering day came to an end and Allison hurried home with many thoughts tumbling around in her head. The handsome face of the new teacher persistently popped into her thoughts. A tall, dark, Dutch man had become her new colleague.

'Tall, Dutch and handsome,' she thought for herself and giggled a little.

Life went on and things returned to normal, which meant the usual gossip in the common room, the annoying classes containing Jannike and that ever present stress that seemed to fill up her life.

Some days later Allison went into the common room and picked up the morning paper only to find the face of the blond devil Jannike staring at her. She had been interviewed by a local journalist hunting for something to criticise the UK education system for. The young pupil provided him with some tale of mean and uncaring teachers who didn't know their subjects.

In that moment she hated the girl. Perhaps it was guilt over that hate the prompted the words that she didn't realise she had spoken out loud.

'Well, spank me! That little...'

'I am only khappy to oblige,' the voice came from behind, happy spoken with a very distinct aspiration. Allison turned around and faced her new colleague, the Dutchman, Theo.

'What?' she said.

'You said, spank me,' he replied beaming, 'and I said that I was only khappy to oblige.'

Allison was lost for words. She stared at Theo and all of a sudden she felt like fainting, her knees were weak.

'I...I,' was the only thing she managed to say.

Theo looked at her and suddenly he was serious.

'Do you really want me to spank you?'

Allison found the situation quite absurd.

'Well,' she stumbled on her words, 'well, yes.'

Allison shook her head in disbelief as they walked to her office. She wondered how this had happened. The whole situation was surreal, something that should not happen. Still it felt strangely natural.

As Allison locked the door to her office, Theo looked around the room, walked to her desk and picked up a ruler. He smiled a strangely happy and innocent smile, although Allison knew well what he was thinking, as he was swishing the ruler through the air.

The tall man sat down on the chair and looked at Allison. She looked back and she almost started laughing at the strangeness of the situation. Theo tapped his knees and she stared at him. As she took a step closer to him she felt an urge to speak.

'But only on my clothes,' she said, sounding stern.

'Off course,' he answered with a beaming smile.

Allison thought that it was something very boyish about that smile, about that tall man sitting in her chair about to smack her bottom. Still he was very much a man. Her knees were weak again.

In her confused mind Allison wondered how she ended up in this situation lying face down on the lap of this strange, happy Dutchman, a man she did not know, who seemed so boyishly confident. The tapping on her bottom with the ruler brought her back from her thoughts.

'What are you doing?' Allison cried out, 'on my clothes, I said.'

She had been taken by surprise as Theo flipped up her skirt.

'But those tights things,' he said, sounding surprised, 'aren't they clothes?'

'Of course they are,' Allison retorted.

'Well then.'

Before she had a chance to say anything, Theo brought down the ruler on her now less protected behind. The sting was considerable and Allison suddenly had other things on her mind than protesting about a flipped up skirt.

Theo smacked her bottom with some determination and Allison found the whole thing quite unpleasant. She didn't cry or protest. It was below her dignity. She struggled to keep her composure. After all, she didn't know the man. She was embarrassed at finding her body so close to Theo's and the fact the he could stare unhindered at her scantily clad behind did not diminish that sensation.

She thought that it was probably right that she should suffer. She had hated her pupil and that was something that made her feel guilty and the relentless smacking of her bottom alleviated that guilt.

The sense of deserving a punishment made Allison almost able to cope with her spanking. Theo was a tall man with long arms and a good swing. It crossed Allison's mind that perhaps he could be a good bowler with that swing. The Dutch did play cricket but were not very good at it.

What happened next caught her completely off guard. She was utterly unprepared for the sensation of Theo's fingers getting hold of her tights and tugging them downwards with great force. Allison felt surprised and powerless as she felt them sliding over her upturned bottom. With fear she realised that it was not only her tights that were removed.

'Are you mad?' she screamed with both anger and fear in her voice.

'It is only for the last ones,' Theo said and she imagined the boyish smile on his face which made her even more upset and angry. She felt humiliated and overwhelmed but was not able to get up and walk away. Something kept her in place.

He didn't give her many more spanks but the ones he delivered were delivered in earnest and on her unprotected bottom. Allison cried out in shame and agony.

'Done,' he proclaimed, 'you may stand up now.'

Allison felt her cheeks blush as she scrambled to her feet and readjusted her clothes in a very unladylike fashion. She was humiliated and angry and was about to scream something appropriate to this madman who had treated her like this.

'That wasn't too bad?' Theo said with his beaming smile.

Allison found that she could not scream. She could only nod and look down.

'No, not too bad,' she said.

'Thank you,' she continued and almost bit her tongue.

'Any time,' the tall handsome Dutch said.

Allison was upset as she walked home, upset and angry. She was still mad at Jannike and the strange Dutchman. Didn't Jannike sound like a Dutch name? It was a conspiracy. Still there was a strange sensation in her as she walked home, a new spring in her step. Anyone seeing her could, perhaps, discern an inward looking smile on her face. She would never admit it but there was this persistent pondering in her mind. It was a scheming and planning that went on without her conscious permission. She blushed as she realised that she, really, was trying to figure out a way of getting over that blasted Dutch knee again.


Dove said...

I must have missed this one when I did my long trawl of your blog a while ago. What a fun story to read and exciting too. Now, where do all these tall Dutchmen hide I wonder?


Anonymous said...

I am doing research for my college thesis, thanks for your excellent points, now I am acting on a sudden impulse.

- Laura