by Rachel White
I sighed when I opened the form letter from the University Registrar's Office. I knew it would happen but it was still a shock. I had been placed on academic probation because of poor grades. What was I going to do now? My parents would yell and scream, but when don't they?
It's my own fault, really... too much time wandering around town, too much time spent not studying and preparing, and too much time being undisciplined. University is not like High School. Here, nobody cares if you do the readings or homework or even if you show up for classes. If you do badly nobody phones your parents to tell on you. The Registrar's Office just waits until all the facts are in and then decides. And it did. Now what am I going to do?
I cannot go on like this. I cannot achieve my goals by being like this. I feel like such a failure. Maybe my friend Jennifer can cheer me up. She and three of her friends share a house with an older guy who seems real nice. He is friendly and affectionate with them without being sexual, and Jennifer likes to call him 'Uncle Richard' even though they are not related. I should ask her about that. In the meantime I have to figure out what if anything I am going to say to my parents. They are going to be so mad.
It was then that Jennifer came by my apartment. After I invited her in, I said that I was just thinking of her. I started making some tea for us when she saw the form letter.
"My God, Rachey, I didn't think you were doing so bad," she said. "What happened?"
So I told her. I told her about the skipped classes, lax study habits, laziness, procrastination and other things. I then said that sometimes I think what I need is a damned good spanking.
"Have you ever been spanked?" she asked.
"Yes," I snorted, "Quite a few times till the age of 15. Then they stopped."
"They still hurt just as much as they ever did," she said.
I arched an eyebrow at that comment. "How do you manage to do so well?" I asked, changing the subject slightly.
"Uncle Richard knows about all of our assignments and their due dates. He helps us with our homework if he can. He also enforces a study time after supper, along with a curfew and a bedtime."
I wasn't sure what to make of that. "And what happens if you break those or don't do well in your tests and assignments - he spanks you?" I asked sarcastically. She blushed, looked down and smiled a little, and said yes. "My God, Jenny, I didn't know. I didn't mean it like that!" I was genuinely shocked. I had no idea. We sat there in stunned silence for a few moments.
"It's not as bad as it sounds. He gives us some much needed structure and accountability in our lives. He really is like an uncle to us, and besides, if we don't want to live under his wing we can leave whenever we want to," she explained. "He really does care about us. Did I ever mention that he tucks us in at night?"
"Wow! Tell me more," I said, genuinely curious.
So she gave me an overview of what life was like in the house. I peppered her with questions as she talked away. Then she realized that she was going to be late for lunch. So I called Uncle Richard and explained the situation. He then invited me over for supper so I could learn more. Jenny's friend Julie was leaving in a month so there would soon be an opening. Could this be the answer to my wish?
I was nervous as Jennifer drove me to her house for supper. I hoped that I would not see or hear a spanking while I was there. I especially did not want Jenny to be the recipient. I did, however, want to hear more about how the arrangement works.
Richard opened the door for us. I wasn't sure if his firm handshake was reassuring or not! I helped make dinner and get the table set up. Richard seemed genuinely interested in me and what I was up to. Dinner itself was good and we talked a lot about various things. After cleaning up afterwards, it was study time for the girls. That gave Richard and I an opportunity to discuss things privately in his study.
I started by telling Richard what little info Jenny had told me... that there were some rules and standards that were expected, that there were curfews and bedtime, oh and also spankings for misbehavior. I was honest and admitted that this was the part that made me nervous. He then told me a few things about the history of the arrangement. I found out that it started five years ago and it grew to its current size within its first year. Julie, in fact, would be only the second one that had left. There was one girl who left last year after her graduation. In fact, she was the first to live in this arrangement.
It was then my turn to ask questions, and I certainly had a few! I decided to start with the basics. "If I stayed here, what rules would you have for me?"
"You would have an 11pm curfew on school nights, 12am on weekends, and a bedtime an hour afterwards. You would be expected to be polite and do assigned chores. No swearing or fighting. You would be expected to attend to your classes and get assignments done on time and done well. You would be expected to dress modestly. You would be expected to maintain at least a B average. I don't believe that a rigid set of rules are appropriate for young adults," Richard explained.
That seemed fair to me. "And what about punishments," I asked nervously.
"Well," he began, "they range from timeouts to groundings to spanking." I gasped, even though I knew it was coming. "Spankings are over my knee and usually with a wooden hairbrush. You would get to keep your panties on, but they won't give you much protection." I nodded. "I don't spank at the drop of a hat, but on the other hand the girls know that if I have to spank each of them twice a day I will do it," he said firmly.
"Have you?" I asked, a bit incredulously. He smiled and said no but that a couple of them have indeed had to be spanked twice in one day.
"I do explain why I have to use any kind of punishment with them, and besides they know I care about them." I found that reassuring. "I'm nothing special," he continued, "just an affectionate old fool who wants to help young people succeed and sets up an environment that works for some people."
"I wonder sometimes if it might work for me," I admitted, and then told him about my dismal academic performance and how I'd get yelled at and called stupid and retarded by my parents.
He responded by squeezing my shoulders and telling me that he had never called any of the young ladies in his care either stupid or retarded. I smiled.
"The best way to determine that is to stay with us for a short term. You will be under the same rules and standards as the others and you know what to expect if you mess up," he said.
I must admit that I winced a little when he said that I knew what to expect. I thought about it for a few seconds and then agreed to it.
Jenny drove me home afterwards. She was excited that I would spend the next week with them. So were the other three girls. I would be arriving tomorrow (Friday) before supper and going back to my apartment the following Sunday evening. I would be staying with Jenny in her room. We had a lot to talk about during the short ride!
Once I got to my apartment I started to pack a suitcase. It was then that the reality of what I had agreed to began to sink in. Here I was barely past 19 and I just agreed to a week where I can be spanked good and hard for misbehavior. It's been years since I've even had to consider that, and now it's about to be foremost on my mind. But maybe I shouldn't obsess about it. After all he seems like a nice man. I believed him when he said it wouldn't happen unless I earned it.
I slept well that night, better than I had in months. I am not sure what to attribute that to. I thought I would be nervous but I wasn't. I was calm and relaxed.
As I tidied my apartment before Jenny picked me up, I thought of some of the spankings I had from my parents. I'd got yelled at and told how stupid and useless I was. The spankings themselves were usually grabs and hits. Sometimes it would seem like Dad was simply trying to see how much pain he could inflict. Afterwards I'd be left alone to cry it out. If I cried too long they would yell at me to shut up or I'd get another one. Sometimes I wasn't even sure what the spanking was for in the first place. There was no way I wanted to risk another one so I shut up.
Then Jenny came over. I was so happy to see her again. Jenny seemed sad and a bit distant. "What's wrong?" I asked.
"Oh, just having a bad day," she said. I nodded. Then she said, "Oh Hell, I may as well tell you. Uncle Richard spanked me an hour or so ago."
I gasped. "My God, Jenny, what happened?"
Jennifer told me. She told me that she snuck out of the house well past bedtime and sat on a park bench by the river for a while then snuck back in. Uncle Richard confronted her a couple hours ago. She panicked and said that she hadn't gone out. Uncle Richard knew the truth. She told me about the scolding and how angry and disappointed he was with her for sneaking out like that and even more so for lying to him.
Then came the scary part. She told me about having to fetch the wooden hairbrush and how much it hurt. She said she wasn't sure how many dozen swats she got. She told me she cried like a baby and how they were reconciled with a hug and forgiveness afterwards. But she also told about having to spend 15 minutes in the corner of the living room with her bare bottom on display as a warning to the other girls.
She also said that Uncle Richard said that if she had asked he would have given permission. That is the saddest part of the story. The whole thing could have been avoided. Then she started crying again. I let her cry on my shoulder for a couple of minutes so she could compose herself.
Once she stopped crying I told her to go and wash her face. After all, I don't want us to get in trouble the moment we walk in the door. She giggled at that.
After that I put the suitcase in the car and we started the drive. While driving there, I thought carefully about what Jenny said. I remembered that there were about a half dozen times when I'd seen Jenny sad and she'd said it was just a bad day ... so that's at least six spankings in nine months. I found myself thinking hard about what this arrangement would entail. I started getting nervous. I walked into the house with a mixture of excitement and dread.
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