Battle of Wills
Chapter 1
Rating: PG, discipline, no sex
Pairing: M/f... original characters
Many Thanks: to Monty for correcting my weird English, and to Janie just because.
Warning: PG. If you think that reading of a deserving young girl being spanked by a caring adult might disturb you... too bad. I mean, don't read.
Feedback: Yes, please dlharon@excite.com
Story Summary: A young girl is instinctively struggling against the rules... Her teacher is there to help her grow up, learning something himself in the process.
Latzi had angry red stripes all over the back of her legs when she returned to the dorm that night; and she wouldn't tell us what happened. Well, we guessed what happened, but THIS was too much. Mr. Langill always uses his hand, it's a common knowledge. OK, in class he DOES use his ruler, but when we get a note that says he's waiting for one of us in his office after classes, we can be sure he'll use his hand. He believes it adds an embarrassment, 'cause we're not kids after all, we're almost grown ladies, blah-blah-blah...
So, when Latzi came back that night, and fell on her bed sobbing, we didn't expect to see those ugly swollen welts on her thighs. Thighs! Since when they whip your legs?
Ronnie sat down near her friend and took her hand.
"Are you alright, Latz? Hey, don't cry. Everything's over", she whispered softly, patting the crying girl's back. Sobbing didn't subside. Everyone knew anything wasn't over. Far from over. It has just begun.
This whole mess started last week, when we were having our usual fun at Mr. Langill's class. I know, you're not supposed to think of class as of having fun, but when it's "History of Fine Arts", and the teacher is 28 years old blond, and the room is full of 17 years old girls with dreamy eyes, the class tends to be really nice.
Of course, we were behaving. On his early days in our school Mr. Langill has successfully shown us who was in charge, and since then no one risked to act up in his classroom. What for? The class was good, and when you're nice to the teacher, he's nice to you too. Mr. Langill IS nice. But I believe I've already said that.
Anyway, last week we had HistArt, and Latzi forgot her paper on her bed in the dorm. What would any other girl do in the situation like that? She would listen to whatever Rob Langill has to say, apologize for her lack of attention, and go get the paper. Yes, I bet you think Latzi acted like this.
Wrong.
When the teacher began scolding her, Latzi started to talk back. I don't remember what exactly she said - something incredibly stupid, some smart comment, it doesn't matter, really. And I have no idea why she decided to snarl. Why at Langill for Heaven's sake? He's nice! All the mouths at the classroom dropped open as one. Congratulations, Latzi Anderson finally lost her mind.
Mr. Langill's eyebrows shot up.
"Are you feeling bad, Olivia?" he asked with mock concern. "I can't think of any other reason to talk back to a teacher like this".
"I'm OK", Latzi spat out. "I just don't like being chewed out like this for forgetting some stupid paper".
"Very well, Miss Anderson. Please come here then, and hold out your hand", said Langill calmly. We saw he was upset, and I bet some of the girls were actually jealous that Latzi was getting so much attention. But as for me, to hell with the attention when he has this mean ruler in his hand. Who needs such kind of attention? Ha!
Latzi didn't say a word; she came to Mr. Langill and held out her hand, not even wincing in anticipation. One could think she was cool, and brave, and full of dignity and self-respect, but Ronnie, Beth and I know, that Latzi is awfully afraid of pain. By that moment she was probably half faint from fear and cursing her smart mouth. She's afraid of lots of things, our Latzi. Do you know why she never begs to forgive her? She's too shy. I don't know what kind of shyness you must have to talk back to teachers like Latzi always does, but still...
Anyway, Latzi held out her hand, and Mr. Langill slapped it with the ruler several times, which, frankly, was very generous of him, 'cause normally he would just bend her over his knee right then and there. But the very next minute everyone understood that if Rob Langill did something, he had a very clear purpose. Like teach a smart-mouthed, defiant young lady a lesson that would last for at least couple of weeks.
As Latzi stood there, grim-faced, shaking her hand in efforts to ease the pain with cool air, the teacher laid a hand on her shoulder, smiled at her disarmingly, and said:
"Please, take your seat Olivia. I would like you to spend some time this evening writing 100 lines of *I will not be rude or disrespectful to my teachers again*. It must be on my desk tomorrow."
Everyone stared in shock. Lines? He wants her to write LINES? Like in the 1st grade? Unbelievable. It can't be true because it can never be true. By our age we have already forgotten what it was like - to be assigned the lines. Instead we wrote essays, we did extra assignments - kind of things that are supposed to develop the young ladies' intellectual abilities, not bore them beyond imagination.
Latzi's head snapped up, and by the look on her face you could say she had already forgotten the pain in her slapped palm. She helplessly looked at the teacher's face, searching for a sign that his last words weren't serious, that he didn't mean it, that it was his own personal way to make fun of his pupil.
"Miss Anderson?" the teacher asked politely. "Does something escape your understanding?"
"Lines?" Latzi finally found her speech. "You want me to do lines? Like a kid? No way!"
Mr. Langill nodded, like this answer was something he had been expecting.
"I suggest that you think about it, Olivia", he said.
"To think about what? For Heaven's sake, sir, this is ridiculous! It's a childish punishment, didn't work on me when I was 10, won't work now, and you know it!" Latzi snorted, shaking her head.
The smile momentarily disappeared from Mr. Langill's face, as if he had turned it off. He leaned to look Latzi right in the eye and spoke seriously, very seriously and sadly:
"Think about it. Think about it, kid. And about consequences too, and try to understand why I ask you to do it. Think carefully, weigh it up, and make the right choice."
Latzi nodded, a little unsure, it seemed to me. Mr. Langill smiled again, patted her shoulder and pushed her slightly towards her seat.
"Where were we?" He asked the class, and went on with the lesson, carefully avoiding to bother Latzi, who was sitting there deep in thought, absent-mindedly tracking red trace of the ruler on her palm with the tip of her tongue in a not-too-ladylike manner. The teacher didn't even scold Ronnie, who had passed her friend a note with the picture of pouting donkey - universally recognized symbol of stubbornness.
When we were all leaving the classroom, the teacher called:
"And oh, Olivia! Don't forget to turn in that paper, will you?"
One of the features of Latzi's inconceivable personality is that she forgets about a problem until it demands her immediate attention. That's why when she, for example, gets a note that summons her to the Headmaster's office at 4pm sharp for an inevitable spanking and a very possible caning, she sighs deeply, spends couple of minutes in self-pity, and then turns her attention to something that is more pleasant to think about - until 3 o'clock at the least.
It's a kind of self-preservation of her mind, I guess: remember, I mentioned that she's afraid of the pain? Well, if she would spend several hours shaking with fear, her teeth chattering and everything, by this age she would be a nervous wreck. She just makes herself forget about troubles! Anyway, after a strange HistArt lesson and till the very end of the dinner you couldn't even tell something was bothering Latzi - some of us must have thought she had suddenly made up her mind and decided to do the lines (which is what every sane person would decide to do).
However, "Latzi" and "sane" aren't synonyms. They don't have anything in common.
We returned to our room after dinner and Latzi immediately hid in the corner of her bed cuddling a pillow. This was an immediate sign of her confusion - she hates to share her troubles with us, but when she's curled up in this position, we can at least try to distract her.
Ronnie asked what happened, and that's when Latzi hit us.
"I'm not playing this game", she said firmly. "School regulations say that Langill can spank me, but I don't remember the rule about humiliating pupils with childish assignments. I'm not doing the lines. I'm not playing his game."
I don't think any of us understood why she had called it a game. Hell, it was just a punishment, plain and simple, though a bit unusual. Latzi's big mouth got her in trouble - so what else is new? But Latzi had sensed something was wrong with this punishment, had sensed it right away; she knew it even then, even before Mr. Langill's plan became obvious for everyone in class.
Three of us spent the rest of the day studying for the Maths test we were going to have in the morning; and non of us tried to convince Latzi to change her mind. We knew better by then.
I must say, the test went lousy. Not for me - Maths is something I'm good at - but for my roommates and, I guess, the majority of our class. That's why no one was really surprised with Latzi's greenish face - most of the girls were already counting the damage, so to speak. In fact, everyone (well, almost everyone) was rather looking forward to HistArt - our only chance to relax.
When we were crossing the yard after Maths, we happened to run into Paul and his friends, so, predictably enough, the girls went to class without me, and the boys had to leave Paul at my disposal. Even more predictably, when the bell rang, we were still there - and at the first sound we were running in different directions, not even hoping to get in class faster than the teachers. Well, don't know about Paul, but I was late.
When I carefully poked my head in, Mr. Langill was leaning back against his table, flipping through the pages of Latzi's report, everyone else sitting perfectly quiet and staring at him.
"Come on in, Martina," he said absently, and held up his palm, indicating that I had to stay by the door, his eyes never leaving the report.
"Sorry I'm late", I muttered, sticking my tongue to Beth, who was rolling her eyes at me.
That's how it happened that I had the best possible view at what happened next.
So, I stayed standing. It wasn't a good sign and well... I thought about my own fate more than about Latzi's at that moment. But not for long.
"Very good, Olivia," the teacher said, closing the report and putting it on the desk behind him. "I'll look at it more closely later. And now I'd very much like to know where are the lines I had assigned to you. You DO remember I've assigned you the lines, don't you?"
No one really thought this question demanded an answer, and Latzi stayed quiet.
"Miss Anderson? Do you remember what you had to do?" Mr. Langill repeated, frowning. So he did want an answer...
Latzi slowly stood up, put on her best calm face and said:
"Yes, sir".
"Oh, do you? So, what was it?"
"I had to write lines, sir", Latzi said, gradually turning from frightened to angry, but she managed to hold her temper.
"And what were those lines, Miss Anderson?"
Latzi bit her lower lip. I guess she was holding back a smart remark - simple trick, but sometimes it worked. I could hear jealous sighs around me - some of the girls were ready to kill for such attention. But then, some girls were not to intelligent!
While Mr. Langill was waiting for the answer, he was walking back and forth across the front of the classroom, hands behind his back. Then, right in front of Latzi's row, he suddenly stopped and made an abrupt turn to face the class.
"What were the lines, Miss Anderson?" he asked sharply. "Well?"
Latzi blushed deep red and swallowed hard.
"*I will not be rude or disrespectful to my teachers again*", she forced out, looking down at her desk surface.
"Good!" the teacher said. "Now I see that you do remember. So, where are the lines?"
There was a pause. Then Latzi made herself look up and said firmly:
"I... didn't do them, sir. I believe you know it".
"Oh well..." Mr. Langill smiled involuntary, "Yes, I know. Of course I know, Latzi, but as you may have guessed, I prefer to hear it from you, just to make sure... And now that I heard it..."
"Just to make sure?" Latzi exclaimed angrily, interrupting the teacher, and even if there was still anyone left who doubted she had gone insane, all the doubts were fading quickly. "Just to make sure? Come on, sir, admit it, you just wanted to further humiliate me!"
All the room went silent, as Rob Langill shook his head and slowly came up to Latzi, who was shaking badly, only now having realized what she had said and what she was in for now.
The teacher put his finger under Latzi's chin, forcing her to look him in the eye.
"Yes." He said seriously. "You are absolutely right, though I would rather use the word 'embarrass'. And do you have any idea why I am doing it to you?"
Latzi couldn't look away, for her chin was firmly held up with the teacher's strong index finger. From my position by the door I could see helpless tears starting in her eyes. She didn't have an answer, she had probably never thought about his reasons. He was a teacher - an enemy! - and in every schoolgirl's mind it was a reason enough to be as mean as any human being can get.
Mr. Langill let go of her chin, turned his back to her and returned to stand by his table.
"This isn't right place and time to have a discussion like this, Miss Anderson", he said. "Please come to see me in my office after dinner tonight. We will deal with your disobedience and fresh mouth then. And I suggest that you do the lines I have assigned you by tomorrow. Now sit down and let me continue with the lesson."
Latzi nearly fell on her seat.
"You may sit down too, Martina", Mr. Langill said, addressing to me. I was surprised that he didn't forget about me altogether, because, frankly, witnessing a show like this I was starting to forget about me myself. "Next time you are late you are getting a spanking. Understood?"
"Yes sir. Sorry, sir", I said and slipped to my seat as quickly as I could.
I don't know how we made it through the rest of the classes. Latzi was scared to death, Ronnie was worried sick for her, and I was worried for both of them. Finally, after few hours, Latzi's self-preservation mechanics started to work, and she gradually loosened up.
The fact that Mr. Langill had decided to punish her in the evening in his office meant a lot.
First of all, he was probably going to take his time and make sure that his point was driven home - not really possible in the classroom, where he had to keep his eyes on 15 girls and somehow manage to teach HistArt in the breaks he has between punishing his pupils. In other words, in the evening it is possible to spank long and hard, not worrying about time limit.
And then, when you have to wait till the evening, it means many hours of anticipation! I don't really have to explain it, do I? It's impossible to explain or describe - the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, the sickening dread flooding your brain every time you think about what's to come. Everyone who had had to endure this at least once, understands me now.
However, sooner or later, everything comes to an end, and so did this day. By the evening Latzi again was nervous and worried. Not that she showed it, not at all - we just learnt to notice things like that. During the dinner she refused to look up, scowling at her plate like it was responsible for her misfortunes. But well, we all knew, that in fact no one was responsible except Latzi herself. All she had to do was do the lines and keep that tongue of hers where it belonged - in her mouth... But anyway, it was too late...
I haven't been a witness to the following events, - Ronnie and I had to wait in our room and pretend nothing was wrong - and it wasn't until months later that Latzi told us what happened to her in Mr. Langill's office. But I'll try to describe what I understood from her words and partly what I think she never admitted.
Latzi stepped into Mr. Langill's outer office at 8pm sharp to find the second door wide open and the teacher standing at the doorway, leaning against the post.
"Do come in, Miss Anderson", Mr. Langill said noticing her hesitation. He extended his hand and laid it on her shoulder as she came closer.
Latzi tensed momentarily, but Mr. Langill gently pushed her into his inner office, went in and closed the door. He then let go of her shoulder and walked over to the window, leaving her stand where she had stopped. At the window he spun on his heel in his usual manner and glared at the grim-faced girl.
"Well?" he inquired.
"Well, sir?" Latzi glared back at the teacher. She wasn't going to make it easier for him. He wanted a tearful repentance in whatever sins she had committed? Not likely! She was determined to demonstrate all the willpower she possessed, and it didn't even occur to her that she was determined to do so every time on similar occasions, and always failed.
"I believe we have a matter to discuss", Mr. Langill said.
"I believe we do, sir", Latzi agreed, waiting for his next move. She was quite sure she was facing a spanking, and hoped it would be over soon enough, before her determined mood would be blown away.
The teacher stood there, arms folded on his chest, and watched her without a word for couple of minutes, noting rebellion mixed with despair in black eyes looking steadily at him. What are you doing, foolish girl? he asked her mentally, part of him admiring her spirit, as he knew very well what danger was waiting for this spirited girl if he didn't teach her to measure the consequences of her overwhelming vanity. He braced himself for what needed to be done and what he was intended to do as thoroughly as he hoped he could, no matter what reputation he would have in the dorms by the end of the week.
And then Rob Langill started acting - a kind of action that was equally hated by schoolgirls of all ages. He walked to the front of his desk, picked up a chair and placed it right in the middle of the room. Then he unbuttoned the right sleeve of his white shirt and carefully rolled it up to his elbow, not bothering to check what effect all the preparations were having on the girl at his door. And then he sat down and glanced briefly at his pupil.
"Over my knee", he commanded.
Latzi started and bit on her lower lip, momentarily wishing she could take back last two days. He didn't say "please". He didn't call her name. He had lost his ironic gentlemanly air. He just commanded - and right then Latzi began to suspect she was in for more than a painful, but quick and ordinary spanking from her usually calm and polite teacher. She didn't realize what was wrong - it just was.
She stared at him stubbornly - staring was about the only thing she could do, because her legs felt like they were glued to the floor, and speaking wasn't an option at all - not with a ball of helpless tears in her throat.
"Over. My. Knee", Rob repeated, feeling disgusted but very determined. "Now".
Latzi whimpered, but found strength to comply. She walked over to his chair and stopped, almost sniffling.
"Come on over, girl," the teacher said, patting his leg. "Quit stalling. We have a long way to go, and it's late already... I know very well that you want the spanking to be over the sooner the better, so why don't we just start?"
Scared as she was, Latzi thought that the teacher's words had sense after all. She sighed deeply, wishing for this sick feeling to go away, swallowed the ball of tears and carefully placed herself over the teacher's lap. She found herself staring at the pale beige carpeting on the office's floor and felt like she was going to fall forward, head down, until Mr. Langill shifted a little and adjusted her position to what seemed a sort of equilibrium... except her legs couldn't reach the floor even if she tried, and her short wavy hair was sweeping the carpet.
The hem of her pleated skirt was being lifted and tucked in its waistband, and Latzi felt Mr. Langill's warm palm resting on her bottom. Her face suddenly felt hot with shame... but she had other things to worry about.
The teacher lightly tapped the upturned bottom of the girl doubled over his knees.
"Do I have your attention, Miss Anderson?"
"Yes, sir," Latzi forced out, waiting for the spanking to start, but it didn't.
"Good," Mr. Langill said. He thoughtfully smoothed out the material of her little satin panties and tapped her bottom again. "Good" he repeated. "Now we'll talk".
The teacher shifted on the chair, making himself comfortable. He leaned back against the high straight back of the chair, securely gripping Latzi across the waist with his left hand to prevent her sliding off his knees.
Latzi grimly stared at the carpet, trying to guess what the hell Rob Langill had on mind... apart from obvious.
Warm palm rested comfortably on her bottom.
"My dear Miss Anderson", began the teacher. "We know each other for... how long?"
"A year", Latzi mumbled, shooting a hateful glance at the carpet.
"That's right, a year. And we meet in class... how often?"
"Every day", Latzi responded, not even trying to figure out what on Earth this was all about.
"True... During this year I had many young ladies in the position similar your own - bent over for a spanking. For various reasons, I must mention. Could you please name several reasons why you or your classmates found yourself in this position?"
Latzi licked her lips that went suddenly dry. This man was nuts. He wanted her to say why he whacked their bottoms! It was some crazy way to manipulate her into... something. She saw it, but couldn't do a thing about it.
"Answer me", the teacher said sharply.
"For not doing homework", Latzi mumbled unintelligibly.
"Speak up please, Miss Anderson."
"For not doing homework", she repeated, blushing furiously.
"That's right. What else?"
"For... uh... skipping classes."
"Yes, that happened too. Anything else?"
"Umm... being late?"
"Oh, yes. Being late." The warm palm was smoothing out her panties again, and Latzi felt the tears starting to burn in the back of her eyes. "What else, Miss Anderson?"
"Being rude... and disobedient", she swallowed the tears, trying desperately to make her voice sound even and calm.
"True. That will do, thank you. Now, as far as I remember, I have already had to spank you, haven't I?"
Latzi didn't say anything - confused, scared and miserable. She knew that he was leading her to some conclusion, she knew the method...
"Haven't I?" The teacher repeated insistently.
"Yes sir," she sighed.
"Can you remember how many times it happened?"
She didn't remember, and didn't want to...
"Don't bother straining your memory, my girl, I know. Twenty six times. Now let's try to recollect why I had to do it. Did you cut classes?"
"No I didn't!" she said indignantly.
"I see, so maybe you didn't turn in your homework on time?"
"No!"
"Easy, easy, Miss Anderson. You seem to forget who is over whose knee right now. Let's continue. Now, have I ever spanked you for being late?"
Latzi was swallowing angry tears. Now she knew what he was leading her to, but couldn't think of anything smart to say. Maybe later, in the dorm, curled under the soft blanket, she will think about the things she could have said...
"No, sir", she said.
"Haven't I? Now, what does it leave us with? Rudeness and disobedience, correct?"
"Yes, sir", she sniffled.
"Isn't it amazing? Twenty six spankings for rudeness and disobedience, during only one year... And I think other teachers punished you for it too, didn't they?"
Latzi couldn't force herself to answer... She just couldn't, and this time Rob gave her a little break.
"I know they did, but we won't take it into account now. So, tell me, my dear, how do you call a person that makes the same mistake twice?"
Latzi was silent. He could kill her, but she won't speak.
"Wouldn't you call such a person careless?"
Silence. Only quiet sniffles could be heard from the girl. Rob sighed. Well, no one said it would be easy.
"Miss Anderson, when I ask you a question, especially as easy as this, I expect you to answer. I don't want to threaten you, but your position is rather shaky as it is, there's no need to make me stand up and get my ruler. Now, would you call a person who makes the same mistake twice a careless person?"
"Yes, sir", Latzi sobbed.
"I would too. And what would you call a person who repeats this mistake for the third and the forth time? Stupid, maybe...?" Rob paused and waited. No answer followed, but he didn't expect any. "Now, what that makes a person who does the same thing twenty six times, gets punished for it and still doesn't learn...? I would say, hopelessly stupid, but you are far from stupid, aren't you?"
Latzi was weeping, her teeth gritted with shame mixed with fury. There were no right answers, because all this was leading to one thing - a spanking, but he just HAD to make her feel lousy, didn't he? Why not just spank her as hard as he pleased, and let her hide in her bed, with a pillow hugged to her chest?
The teacher continued:
"But if you aren't stupid, how could it happen that you keep being disobedient and disrespectful after having been punished for it numerous times?.. Do you have an answer?"
She didn't.
"I thought so. But I hope you agree with me that there's a problem... Now, do you agree?"
She didn't, she didn't want to agree, she didn't want to answer.
"You answer me, now."
She just couldn't. No, it was too much, she couldn't, she wouldn't answer...
"I see", Rob said slowly. "Do you remember me saying I can use my ruler if you fail to answer properly?"
She slowly closed her eyes. As you wish, she thought. Just spank me. Just please, please spank me and let me go.
"I think you heard me, and understood me very well", Rob said thoughtfully, patting her bottom with light taps. "I don't think you like being spanked with a ruler... It isn't too appealing, is it? But still you choose to remain silent... Not to answer. To disobey me yet again. Is that what has just happened and continues happening?
You have been spanked for disobedience more times than you can remember of, you are going to be spanked for it in few minutes - I hope you don't have any doubts as to why you are over my knee right now - and still you chose to disobey me, even after having been warned about more severe punishment...
Now, tell me, Latzi, do you still think there's no problem?.."
She remained silent, of course. Rob sighed and adjusted her position again, taking aim.
"There is a problem, but you will get over it," he said, tightened his grip around her waist and brought down his right hand, not too hard, but very confidently.
Latzi sobbed with relief when the spanking finally started - it was strange, it was crazy, but these several minutes "talking" were worse than anything she had to experience when bent over someone's knee... at least it seemed that way.
The teacher was spanking with moderate force, in a steady, slow rhythm - the smacks stung unpleasantly, they were biting into Latzi's dignity, but didn't really hurt, she even managed to concentrate and take her tears under control. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, gasping slightly at some swats. The loud slapping sounds were much more scary and dramatic than pain inflicted by the measured, unhurried spanking, Latzi thought, but she wasn't sure what was going to come next... She held on, trying to breathe evenly, hoping that it would be over soon... but not quite believing in it. Mr. Langill never let anyone off his lap before they were truly and properly chastised, and Latzi had a feeling that this particular ordeal was going to take a long time a very long time... She was sniffling with embarrassment, and the spanking went on and on, the smacks never getting out of time.
The teacher was silent. His hand rose and fell, never hitting the same spot twice in a row, but without any pattern Latzi could distinguish. Minutes were creeping by, slow as a bunch of fat, lazy snails; and stinging in Latzi's bottom began to build up. She had a feeling that she had spent hours and hours in this position, and still Mr. Langill never changed a rhythm, never said a word.
The heat in her bottom was rising, slowly but inevitably, and Latzi caught her lower lip between her teeth to stop from gasping... she had a feeling she has been here forever. She prayed for every smack to be the last one - but more and more followed, in the same slow rhythm, with the same moderate force... but now they burnt viciously.
She was squirming now - couldn't help it. Her self-preservation instinct switched on, and she was trying to wiggle away from under the slaps, and of course it was impossible. The teacher spanked, Latzi wiggled - it was the way the world was. Complete helplessness brought the tears back to her eyes, and rising burning of the firm smacks made little sobs escape from her lips... Right then Mr. Langill increased the force and the swing with which his hand was falling.
With a howl Latzi threw her head back, and after two heavy smacks on the base of her cheeks she broke down sobbing.
Rob gritted his teeth and went on with two dozen more of those hard swats, concentrating on the area where Latzi's bottom wasn't protected by her thin panties. If the reaction of the kicking and howling girl was anything to go by, it had to really burn. Rob's own palm was stinging mightily; he gloomily thought that Latzi would hardly appreciate what troubles he was ready to experience because of her.
A sharp yelp and a forceful, frantic jerk of the girl's body followed each smack as she was trying to break away - unconsciously, of course, but it was getting hard to hold her. Rob thought about stopping and ordering the girl to control herself or else, but decided against it - the spanking was coming to an end anyway.
Then he stopped. Latzi was shaking with hiccuping sobs. The teacher gently rubbed her back, but strangely it just brought more tears.
Rob was intended to let Latzi cry herself out for a while, but as soon as he released the hem of her skirt, the girl started to push herself up. The teacher sighed and helped her on her feet.
Latzi was a mess. Red-faced, cheeks and temples wet with tears, eyes puffed... She was taking in air in little gulps, sobs escaping her swollen lips. Rob could see huge efforts she was making to compose herself, but it wasn't easy after a thorough job he did. Obviously she needed some time to be able to continue their "discussion". Rob shook his head and said:
"Stand facing the wall, hands at your sides".
Latzi was happy to comply. Anything, just to hide her face. All the walls of Mr. Langill's office were occupied by bookcases, so she just faced one of them, biting on her lip to quiet that pitiful sniffling, and started to dully study the names of the books on their backs, hoping this would take her mind away from infernal flames in her bottom. The hardest task was to keep her hands where there were supposed to be: she wanted to either try and rub the fire away, or press her palms to her face - she didn't even know what she wanted to do more... but she didn't dare to even think about it.
Meanwhile Rob put the chair back, rolled down his sleeve and stood looking at the wet branches in his window, at the dark park, at the gauzy cloud crossing the moon - he was preparing himself to what was going to come next. He was doing what he had to - but it didn't feel right.
He paced, watching Latzi out of the corner of his eye - the girl was crying, but she stood perfectly still apart from the shaking of her shoulders. Rob paced, and waited for the mournful sobbing to subside, for the girl to start thinking clearer. When it seemed like she had more or less calmed down, he came up to her and stood right behind her.
Latzi sensed him and tensed, even her breathing stopped for a moment.
"Miss Anderson," the teacher said calmly, "I hope you are closer to seeing my point now. You have just been punished for you disobedience, for the twenty-seventh time in one year. Can you promise me that I won't have to do this again?"
Latzi's mind convulsed. The burning in her bottom didn't subside the one bit, and her eyes ached from crying... but what he was saying was ridiculous. How could she promise anything like this? The words jumped on her tongue before she could stop them:
"I can't give a promise that I can't keep, especially if punishing or not punishing me is entirely up to you".
"Oh, is it?" Mr. Langill's voice rose, and Latzi wished she could roll in a ball. She was expecting to be bent over for another dose of smacks, but the thunder didn't follow.
There was a pause, and Latzi felt a hand gently lying on her shoulder.
"What are you doing?" the teacher whispered, and then spoke in full voice, never taking his hand away:
"Do you know what you are doing? You are pushing me, Latzi. You want to prove yourself strong. You want to prove that you can take more punishment than I can mete out. Is that what you are doing?"
Latzi felt sick on her stomach, suddenly hearing the words she could never voice - even for herself. No, it couldn't be true. She couldn't be doing what he'd said she was. She was just trying to save her dignity - something that this... this... this cruel man would never understand.
"Answer me," sharp smack landed on the seat of her skirt.
"No, sir," Latzi squeaked out.
"No?" a new smack sent waves of pain from her bottom.
"I'm not pushing you!"
"Are you not?"
Latzi longed to grab on something, and she held her own elbows as the teacher proceeded to smack her bottom, his hand on her shoulder steadying her trembling body.
"Hands at your sides!.. So, why am I spanking you right now?"
"For disobedience!" she squealed, pulling at the sides of her skirt with sweaty fingers.
"Wrong! I have already spanked you for it, I don't punish twice for the same offence!"
"I don't know why!"
"Yes, you do, and I won't stop until you tell me".
"For... for not answering you properly!"
The spanking stopped as abruptly as it has begun.
"And why didn't you answer it right away?"
"Don't know."
"Not true. Do I need to start spanking you again?"
"No, sir," Latzi gasped as she felt the hem of her skirt being tucked at her waistband once again. She started to turn, but was steadied by a stern "Face the wall."
"This," Mr. Langill explained, tapping her bottom, "is to help you concentrate. I'm not going to spank you any more, if you don't force me to. Now, the truth, please."
"What was the question?" Latzi whispered resignedly.
"Sir."
"What was the question, sir?" she repeated, swallowing tears.
"I will rephrase it. Why do I have to ask every question several times, and you never answer at once?"
"Not every question!" She protested, and then softly said: "Oh."
"See?"
Rob walked to the window, then to the door and back.
"I don't know, sir," Latzi said weakly.
"Don't know or can't say?"
"I don't know!" she was crying. Any second she was expecting to be hit again, but she couldn't answer at this - no one was allowed so deep into her soul.
"You can turn around," the teacher said quietly.
He was sitting on the sofa by the window, and looked at her, smiling sadly.
"Free your skirt, we are finished for today."
She reached back and untucked her skirt, letting it cover her hot, and, she was sure, blazing bottom. The teacher patted the sofa near him, and Latzi hesitantly walked to sit down. She was tense and scared, but he drawn her to him, as he always did after punishing one of the girls.
"Come on, kid," he said gently, feeling her tense as he wrapped his hand around her shoulder. "It's over, and you were brave. Now relax, and let's talk calmly."
Latzi was still tense, but she let Mr. Langill hug her, and gently rock her for a minute. She was drained, both physically and emotionally, and almost hated him for being so nice now, but what she really needed was a little bit of comfort, a hug of reassurance, and Mr. Langill was the only person who could give it to her... He brought her a glass of orange juice, and watched her take a careful sip.
"Thank you," she whispered and handed the glass back, avoiding his glance.
"Drink it," Mr. Langill said. "I know it's warm, but you'll feel better."
"Like you care," she muttered, and bit on her tongue, looking up at him in horror.
"Oh, please," the teacher laughed, "You don't even mean it."
Latzi blushed and shook her head, eyes downcast.
"What am I gonna do with you, Latzi Anderson?"
He brought the chair to the couch where she was crouching, and sat down facing her.
"Drink your juice, Latzi, and listen to me... You are a good girl, and I know it - no, don't say anything, because you don't mean it, and you'll come to regret it, and I may have to spank you again - and you have really had enough. Right?"
She nodded. She couldn't bring herself to look into his eyes, and stared at the glass instead, still slightly sniffling, but without tears.
"You seem to think that submitting to the teacher's authority is a sign of weakness... you want for your word to be the last one on the matter - and I must tell you that what you consider to be the strength of you will is in fact a show of your stubbornness. You see yourself as a proud, supreme creature, too good to abide by the rules - but in fact you are just being vain and conceited. And silly, I must add. No, no, don't argue, I'm not finished yet."
Latzi _wanted_ to argue. He got it all wrong. She didn't think she was the best! On the contrary, just _everyone_ seemed to be better in something - Ronnie was a great dancer, Beth sang like a nightingale, Martina had won no less than 15 awards in different magazines with her caricatures and short stories... the list could go on and on, and Latzi was well aware that she was just a girl. Not better than everyone else. Not worse, but by no means better than her schoolmates. Damn teacher has got it all wrong - but there was no way to tell him. She couldn't argue with him.
"Now," Rob continued, "I know that you are a good girl. A nice, intelligent, charming girl. I can see it well. And the girls there at the dorms know that you are a good girl, because you had years to prove it - and because you never fight with _them_. You save your smart tongue and sassy comments for the teachers, and the girls admire your bravery, they seem to share the conception, that the teachers are common enemies, and you are a hero at the war. Spanked, but not subdued. But... there's no war, Latzi. There is only childish resistance of young girls, struggling against being kept in line - even if the rules you all so loath are for the sake of your own safety...
Are you listening to me?"
Oh, yes, she was. In some sense he was right, and it made her sick, and she hated it. She didn't want to hear it. She wanted to look away, but the teacher took her chin in his fingers and gently turned her face to him.
"It's never you against me, Latzi, or me against you. It's you and me together, against all the wrong decisions that you make, against the demons that possess you, if you will... I don't struggle against you. I struggle together with you. Do you understand?"
Latzi couldn't turn away her face, so instead she stared somewhere at his forehead. His words were just too good. He has probably found them somewhere, in a textbook for good little teachers, in a chapter named "How to have a troublemaker eat off your hand", and now he was reciting it to her with passion and expression, waiting for tearful repentance and immediate promise to shape up and never sin.
"What do you say?" Mr. Langill asked gently.
Latzi looked him in the eyes and quietly said:
"Can I be excused?"
For a moment the teacher's face showed confusion, and then he frowned, moved away and said, suddenly sounding very official:
"Yes you can. I hope you learned from today, Miss Anderson. Next time you show up in my class, I expect to see one hundred lines that you owe me ready and neat."
Latzi felt like she was slapped. She knew it. So much for sincerity, right, Mr. Langill? She stood up, managed a more or less calm "Good bye" and left.
"Smooth, idiot," Rob muttered and punched the back of the couch. He felt very much like spanking himself.
Predictably enough, after Latzi returned to the dorms she hardly said a word to any of us. Her face was grim and concentrated, lips pressed together and stare fixed. She muttered a hello, turned down a tube of arnica gel, laid down on the bed facing the wall, pillow tightly hugged to her tummy, and within minutes she was asleep. Ronnie and I looked at each other, shrugged and decided to call it a day too, hoping that the matter was closed. Little did we know.
END of CHAPTER 1