by Sumner Morrow
Jennifer Rawlings tried to concentrate on the newspaper as she paced the floor in the living room, but her efforts in that regard were in vain. She wanted to distract herself from the pesky emotions and thoughts that had seemed to invade every minute of her day.
As soon as she had gotten home from a busy Wednesday at the university, she had been disappointed upon arriving at the house and finding that she was not experiencing the sense of serenity she would typically feel at the prospect of having several days off - not when her consciousness was being occupied by unwelcome old business.
Even more distracting was the ever-present fluttering and quivering throughout the entire middle third of her body as she walked the floor aimlessly, nervously running her fingers through her shoulder-length brown hair. Those sensations coordinated well with the little tingling twinges of nerve endings across the surfaces of her bottom cheeks. Jennifer had anticipation down to a science.
As she put the newspaper down on a coffee table and walked to the bay window to gaze upon the scenic front lawn, she finally realized that when she had walked to the bedroom to change out of her pantsuit, she had absentmindedly taken one of her husband's pro football jerseys from a drawer and slipped it on without even bothering to put on jeans or shorts. She finally realized how she was dressed, and sighed and laughed to herself; she very well knew what was coming. She had obviously, albeit unwittingly, dressed for her own comfort and her husband's convenience.
She placed her hands on her hips, closed her eyes and leaned her head back and took a deep breath. The nicotine cravings had nearly overwhelmed her from mid morning through the rest of the day. She felt jittery, edgy and short tempered all day long. It was all that she could do to be cordial to her students and fellow faculty members, and when one of the professors stopped her in the hallway to ask her a question, the aroma of cigarette smoke he emanated nearly drove her to the brink.
She heard a low rumbling sound and she knew that Michael was home. She took a deep breath and strolled to the kitchen door that opened into the garage. As soon as he walked through, she rushed to him and put her arms around him and they embraced and kissed deeply. "Could my behind borrow that strong, hard right hand of yours for a few minutes?"
His eyes arched in surprise. "It's been several months since you've been spanked. Getting the cigarette urges because you are nervous about your speech tomorrow night?"
She leaned her head against his chest. "It's not the speech. It's the subject matter. I long ago got over my fears of speaking in public when it comes to things like research. But having to retell my own story makes me become a little unraveled. You know how it goes... it makes me nervous, and it makes me want to smoke."
He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close. "So, give me a little guidance here."
Her face flushed a dark pink. "You know, I just need a pretty good reminder of how much worse it would be if I actually gave in and lit one up." She put her arms around his back and gave him a tight squeeze: "I believe that the sofa is available."
Michael took Jennifer by the hand and led her to the living room, all the while entranced by the vision of her in the short jersey. He would have been elated to have been guiding her to their bed. However, he had to admit to himself that providing the woman that he loved with one of the infrequent spankings generated by her confessions that she was in danger of resuming smoking was not something he found to be an unpleasant task.
After the first time he had taken Jennifer across his knees for that purpose, he had been candid regarding the fact that he found the act arousing. She understood and accepted that reaction, and if anything it made her feel more at ease in subsequent requests that he paddle her.
Michael sat down on the middle cushion of the sofa, and without any coaxing Jennifer placed herself across his knees and lowered her head on her folded hands as she felt the jersey raised up to the middle of her back. Then she bit her lower lip in anxiety as she felt her panties being lowered and shuffled down to her knees.
Something about her demeanor must have correctly conveyed to her husband that she needed for him to get on with some very serious business. The customary soft caressing was dispensed with. Rather, she simply felt a couple of mild warning taps on the center of her bare bottom.
Two seconds later the tense quiet of the room was broken by an unnerving CRACK, and Jennifer squealed from the sting. In shock and surprise that the first smack had been so forceful, she was struggling to gather her wits when a second, equally loud CRACK echoed in the room.
As Michael hesitated for a moment, he looked down to see two dark pink handprints on Jennifer's shapely and still pale backside. Then he began his typical, rhythmic manner of spanking. Every several seconds, Jennifer absorbed another sharp and stinging smack, although this time they were more painful than she usually received for one of her 'craving and near surrender' bottom warmings.
And this time Jennifer seemed to be having more of a struggle in coping with the pain, and she finally allowed herself to stop trying to prevent the tears from falling or to refrain from allowing her expressions of pain to be verbalized. But even after the sounds of her crying were unmistakable, the spanking continued for yet another minute, another dozen solid smacks further reddening her bottom.
After the last smack had landed, Michael reached to take her by her arms and pulled her to sit in his lap as her crying continued. He held her closely for a few minutes, until she finally drew away, stuck out her lower lip in a theatrical pout and spoke to him in a hushed voice.
"Now you're going to have to think of something to make me feel all better after that."
Jennifer looked out across the hundreds of people gathered in the auditorium of Brandon Consolidated High School. She was not at all nervous sitting in full view of that many people, nor was she intimidated by knowing that in a few minutes she was going to be addressing them. Rather, she was able to relax and listened attentively as the Superintendent of Schools gave his rather long but flattering introduction:
"...and as we gather here this evening to honor our selected Outstanding Alumnus of 2015, I think that it is safe to say that the story of Jennifer Ashburn Rawlings is as improbable as it is remarkable. In her new book, Overnight Success, she chronicles the years of her academic struggles in her grammar and high school years through her attainment of her PhD in Veterinary Medicine and her renowned work in the development of advanced and safer antibiotics for use with livestock.
"As you may know, Dr. Rawlings graduated from Wyndham Rural High School in 2003, five years before the three districts consolidated to form the Brandon Consolidated District. Dr. Rawlings then decided to remain here in Tennessee, and continued on to..."
As Jennifer sat gingerly on her still tender backside and adjusted her glasses and looked down to see that the hem of the black dress was still demurely resting at her knees, she could not help but listen and want to shake her own head as the superintendent recited her achievements. "...now an esteemed tenured research professor at Singleton University, and in charge of a promising project with a goal of making it possible for farmers and ranchers all across the world to raise healthier and more disease-resistant ..."
Jennifer smiled as she looked out over the audience, recognizing many of them in attendance. "...and many of you may have seen her recently on some of the network morning programs talking about her book. Dr. Rawlings has become a source of inspiration to those who have found themselves struggling to achieve their goals, but never wanting to give up.
"Of course, until the publication of Overnight Success, only those who have known her over the course of time know the true meaning of the title of that book. Although her recognition for her research seemed to come to her suddenly, it was actually the result of many years of struggle and hard work beginning with a day in..."
Jennifer smiled and nodded through the remainder of her introduction, then to the applause of the crowd she rose to greet John Manchester, who had been the principal of Wyndham when she was a student there. She stepped up to the microphone, thanked the superintendent for his kind words and gave him a hug, and launched into her well rehearsed speech with her typical calm and near-perfect diction.
Several minutes into the speech, she could see that she had the rapt attention of the audience, and continued, "I think that it is always wise for us to recognize and be thankful for those moments in our lives that served as critical events and turning points for what we have been able to accomplish. As for my professional career, I spent a fateful weekend at the farm of an aunt and uncle with whom I was quite close at the age of nineteen. Of course, when I was nineteen years of age I had just completed my junior year of high school, for my study habits at that stage of my life would have given one the impression that I was so in love with Wyndham Rural High School that I had no intentions of ever leaving school and facing adulthood."
She waited a moment for the laughter to subside, but those who knew her well understood that darker meaning of her comment. "My aunt and uncle had no children of their own, and they served as an extra set of parents for me. I was looking forward to helping them with some farm work that weekend, and it was on a pleasant June Saturday morning when I headed to the barn to begin feeding the dairy cattle and check on a calf that had been born the night before. One thing that I have always loved is animals of all kinds, and one of the best things in my life took place that morning when that calf just didn't look right to me. I ran to find my uncle, and he confirmed that there was reason to be concerned. Fearful for the fate of the new calf, I waited anxiously with my uncle before the arrival of the veterinarian, It turned out that the calf had been born with an infection in his digestive system.
"I had never before in my life displayed any interest in any matter of science, but as we conversed with the veterinarian as he checked out the calf and gave it two injections of antibiotics and vitamins, I found myself mystified by what he was doing. Of course, in science classes we had covered the discovery and development of antibiotics, but I was really not listening I guess. However, as we waited for the doctor to arrive, my attention, and my heart for that matter, were captivated by those large brown eyes of the newborn calf whose life was in peril. All I cared about was that the newborn little brown and white girl would make it through the day. That calf seemed so helpless, and the infection that was threatening to take its life seemed so cruel to me.
"That veterinarian knew my uncle well, and I learned later that on more than one occasion my uncle had expressed to him his concerns about the direction in which I was heading in life. And before that veterinarian left the farm that morning, he went to his truck and dug around in a box behind the front seat. When he came back, he handed me a couple of manuals regarding livestock diseases and their treatments and wished me well as he made me promise to call him with any questions.
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