by Louis Woodley
Rachel Wallace had just finished eating supper and wanted to make a quick escape back to her bedroom. However, any sudden movements would draw Greg Lowman's attention so she slowly rose from her chair instead. She carried her plate to the sink and rinsed it before putting it into the dishwasher.
"Thanks for supper, I'm going back to my room now," she informed him.
"That's fine," he answered as she started to turn away from him. "And while you're there, why don't you grab your History exam so we can look it over and see how you did."
Dammit! Just as she feared, he hadn't forgotten that she was supposed to get that grade back today! And he'd want to see if she'd lived up to the standards they'd previously agreed. Right now, Rachel was having a sinking feeling in her stomach, because she knew that shortly her underwear was going to be sinking below her ankles and her freshly-bared bottom was going to be spanked. Ugh! Why had she gotten so cocky and made such a half-assed effort at studying, given all the previous mistakes she'd made.
Mr. Lowman had watched his own children's behavior over the years and it hadn't taken him long to pick up on his houseguest's 'tells'... the furtiveness, the hesitation in her step, and the slumping of her shoulders practically screamed that she had something she wanted to hide from him. That was an unwise choice at the best of times and a bigger mistake when it came to issues regarding her academic performance. The lack thereof had been a critical factor in her winding up as his lodger in the first place.
"You might want to go ahead and change into your nightclothes before you come back, so you'll be more comfortable," he said. The tone was light and non-accusatory, so anyone overhearing the conversation might take it at face value, not knowing the deeper meaning behind it.
Sadly, Rachel wasn't at all fooled by the suggestion.
'More comfortable, my ass,' she thought to herself, although obviously wasn't stupid enough to blurt it out loud. But she still immediately regretted her choice of phrase, since it was indeed her ass that was soon going to be made most uncomfortable. As in stinging, aching, throbbing, reddened, burning, or any of a number of other descriptive words for the future state of her backside.
"And while you're at it, could you grab my bedroom slipper for me."
His voice might be a velvet glove but inside that glove was a palm that felt like a plank of wood that could relentlessly swat forwards and backwards for long minutes at a time without ceasing. And he'd just informed her that once he confirmed that her History grade was insufficient it would be a bedroom slipper whacking her poor bare butt. God, she hated the big, firm slipper, although to be fair there really wasn't a good option when Mr. Lowman was displeased with her. And he was going to be displeased tonight for certain, since he'd accuse her of lying to hide the grade.
But while these punishments were always painful, there was always a purpose behind them. Despite her being in a situation where she really couldn't afford to say no to him, he didn't thrash her bottom for the amusement value. No, there was always a reason attached to the licking, one that Rachel had no one but herself to blame for. It was a constant reminder that she'd dug herself a huge hole and the only way to get out was the change the behaviors that had caused the problem in the first place. And those reminders might be a few brisk swats or a lengthy thrashing but they were always administered with the best of intentions.
Why had she bothered to hope that he'd somehow forget about getting the grade back today, one that she knew she hadn't studied as hard for as she should have, despite her snarky assurances to Mr. Lowman that she was fully prepared. The moment she saw her grade, her butt cheeks had clinched in nervous anticipation over how her host was going to react.
81! Damn, that wasn't good at all, and certainly not up to the high standards they'd agreed upon in order to salvage her academic standing. He'd made it explicitly clear, by word and deed, that there would be consequences for failing to achieve these goals, particularly when she hadn't tried her best.
Yes, she could try to weasel her way out of Mr. Lowman spanking her by making excuses, but she'd learned the hard way that he had an excellent bullshit detector when she'd tried to bluff her way out of a prior spanking for non-compliance. Not only had he seen through her story he'd then tacked on the additional charge of lying to him. A desperate apology didn't change matters at all. Since Greg Lowman didn't appreciate being lied to, Rachel's hindquarters wound up far worse off than if she'd just come clean and accepted her fate from the beginning.
God Almighty, that had been a horrific error in judgment on her part. Her parents shared the same fervent belief in the benefits of corporal punishment for their daughter, so she was painfully familiar with the feel of a hand or implement on her bare behind. There were several ways that Mr. Lowman made her regret her behavior and the slipper was possibly the worst.
He'd first administer the 'unsatisfactory schoolwork performance' spanking that she was going to get regardless, baring her hiney and taking her over his lap to deliver the prescribed number of spanks for not achieving the minimum required score they'd agreed upon. It would have only been nine swats but Mr. Lowman didn't believe in doing anything halfway, so she'd be hollering from the sting.
If she'd just been honest with him from the beginning then the spanking would have only been by hand instead of the slipper and that would have been the end of the matter. But now he'd address her attempted deception at bedtime. He expected total honesty from her, something she was well aware of by now, so electing to be less than forthcoming meant she had additional misery coming her way. Her belated pleas that she was sorry didn't help matters, since he merely responded that she wasn't a child and shouldn't engage in childish behavior. He was waiting to see the grade and the slipper and the longer she stalled the worse the final reaction on his part would be.
With a heavy heart (and soon to be sore butt) she pulled the test out of her backpack before detouring to his room to pick up a slipper from his closet. These weren't typical flimsy slippers; they had a firm sole that covered a good portion of her poor backside with every stroke. And Mr. Lowman knew how to snap his wrist just before impact to really make them bite. If she hadn't tried to hide her grade she could have avoided a double-header with the slipper. By now you'd think she'd know better.
He asked her point-blank if she'd studied as hard as she should have for the test. They'd decided she should be able to make at least a 90 because this wasn't her most difficult class this semester. She'd come up nine points short of her goal, so was the test harder than she'd anticipated or had she failed to study sufficiently? Knowing that lying would only make this a total train wreck, she conceded that she didn't give it enough attention. Despite multiple offers of assistance, she'd been such a smart mouth that she'd earned the hairbrush on her butt cheeks.
Well, in that case, the slipper was going to give her butt some attention, in the form of nine swats on the hiney now, with the subsequent punishment for attempted deception still to come. He told her to drop her jeans and underwear and then bend over and take a firm grip on the coffee table. He had other spanking positions he used with her more often, but this was a favored way to slipper her hindquarters.
She assumed the position, hunkering down so she didn't break position from the coming impact. She felt a couple of taps across her tush and then she sensed his arm drawing back. Then size 12 misery exploded across her cheeks, making her grunt. He drew it back again, this time delivering a rising swing to her sit spots. Then he returned his attention to her butt cheeks.
As Mr. Lowman went to work on Rachel's butt, Kelly Norris walked in the front door.
"Sorry I'm late for supper, I missed the shuttle after my lab." She paused at the sight of Rachel getting a bare bottomed whacking with Mr. Lowman's slipper. "Low grade on that History test?" she asked, which he confirmed before launching another strike.
"Well, we offered to help you review, but..." she reminded Rachel before heading into the kitchen.
Rachel knew Kelly was right. "Ow!" she yelped as the slipper struck again. After the final swat she was told to pull her clothes back on and go help Kelly in the kitchen.
After supper she'd spent the rest of the evening trying to concentrate on her schoolwork since he'd be checking what she'd done. He'd warm their rumps up if he was dissatisfied with their efforts. But it was hard to think about her classes when her surrogate father planned to punish her because she was arrogant enough to think she could outsmart him. She'd caught a break when he'd gone over her work making only minor comments, and her blood pressure had eased slightly as he decided that nothing she'd missed was worth smacking her backside over.
However, when he returned at bedtime the slipper was in his hand again and he instructed her to stack her pillows, bare her bottom, then climb aboard and hold still.
Moments later she was in position and the slipper was again scorching her butt cheeks, making her cross her ankles to keep from bringing her feet up to protect herself. Despite the cool down period she'd had since her first wallops, it didn't take long for pink to change to red, and her yowling echoed through the back of the house. The strokes for her low grade were doubled at bedtime for dishonesty, so her backside was sizzled 18 times to send her sniffling to bed.
But how had Rachel come to find herself in this situation in the first place, living with a 'mentor' using a bedroom slipper to smack her bare bottom over a mediocre History test score? And who was Kelly Norris, and why was she so blasé about seeing it happening?
Growing up as an only child, Rachel had considered her parents to be overbearing, and she felt the weight of their expectations. She was monitored with a strict curfew and a pair of adults sniffing her like bloodhounds looking for something to bay about every time she'd been out with her friends. Discipline was enforced on her bare bottom, by hand or hairbrush for the most part although creativity had resulted in whatever was closest at hand being used on occasion.
They expected good grades from her, but that wasn't hard for her to accomplish. Her school wasn't academically rigorous and she was intelligent enough to succeed without developing good study habits. Instead, she got away with pulling papers together at the last minute and managed to slip the collar and escape from the house by attending 'study sessions' with her friends (minimal studying actually took place, but since she was making good grades and the other parents vouched for her being where she claimed then her parents were none the wiser).
Their school only had limited AP offerings but she did take a couple, earning a '3' on one but only a '2' on the other, insufficient to earn college credit.
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