Description
About the author:
Desiree D’Angelo writes sizzling spanking stories. From San Francisco, when the weather is warm, you may find her with her laptop on the beach dreaming up her next spanking tale, her Australian Shepherd by her side.
Here is a short sample from the book:
College was supposed to be different than high school, or so I thought, until the day I walked into my first class at Moorpark, a small liberal arts school in San Francisco. Little did I know that it was going to be—at least for me—not all that different than a high school in the South, where girls get spanked and paddled regularly, even for the most minor of infractions.
That I would find out, to my dismay, soon enough.
But for now, my roommate Tabitha and I arrived at our first class a few minutes early.
“Oh my God! What is that?” she said, pointing at a seating chart posted on the wall. “Did you know you were going back to kindergarten, Samantha?”
“What the hell?” I said, rolling my eyes.
“And we’re not even sitting anywhere close to each other, either.”
For both of us, this was our first time away from home. Fortunately, we had gotten to know one another a little bit before school started via email and Skype. So far, she was my best friend here in San Francisco. Starting college felt just like the first day of high school. Everything was unfamiliar and everyone was a stranger. Luckily for me, Tabitha had been able to make new friends easily and got us invites to the hottest parties on campus. I’d been having tons of fun since I got here last week. It was way better than the small town in Iowa where I grew up.
She looked at me with her puppy dog eyes. She grimaced, and said, “That’s not fair! You’re sitting all the way up in the front, and I’m way in the back. I won’t have nearly as good of a view of our professor as you do.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, “Have you seen his photo? Can you believe how gorgeous he is? Why, I think he’s the most handsome teacher on campus. And I hear he isn’t married, either.”
“Ha ha,” I groaned, rubbing my forehead which still ached due to a few too many vodkas with Red Bull last night. My head was pounding. I’ve never felt so much pain. At least we had time to grab an extra large cup of coffee before class. I don’t think I could have made it here without it. If today hadn’t been the first day of class, I probably would have just skipped it. Finally, I was far away from my over-protective mother, and could do as I pleased—including skipping class if I wanted to. Free at last… Free at last…
We had just taken our seats when our professor walked in. He was built like a Marine—just as I had expected. He knew my father from the war in Afghanistan. My mother had been in contact with him before she decided I could go to this school. He’d assured her that he would look out for me and make sure that I stayed out of trouble.
The professor surveyed the room and then began to speak. Without a word, he commanded the attention of the entire class.
“Good morning. I’m Professor Trevor McNight. This is History 5A, Introduction to U.S. History. I assume you have all found your assigned seats. If not, please refer to the diagram posted on the wall and move to the proper desk.”
He was very precise in his speech. Clearly a military man… or how I imagined a military man would be. I don’t have many memories of my father at all. I was only five when he was killed in an ambush. My mother has a photo of us accepting the ceremonial folded flag at his funeral. But, I hardly even remember that.
The professor droned on. “For many of you, I know this is your first day of college. You should know in advance that, as a professor, I am very demanding. I think if you ask my former students, they will all agree that they have benefitted from the fact that there is discipline in my classroom.”
I figured it would take a while for him to get through his pleasantries and begin today’s real lesson, so I pulled out my cell phone to check for messages. He walked over to the whiteboard and began writing a list of rules.
“These rules exist to make sure that you get the most out of this class. Be forewarned, I will not hesitate to enforce any violations to the fullest extent allowed.”
I was only halfway listening when he said, “There will be no electronic devices of any type powered on in this room by anyone other than myself. If you do have one in your possession, please ensure that it is turned off and incapable of making any noise.” Since Professor McKnight had known my father so well, I figured none of his so-called “rules” nor any of his “discipline” would apply to me. I guess that was one huge advantage having your professor know your family personally.
I was engrossed in a chat with a friend back home on my cell phone. I was barely aware the room had become quiet and every eye in the room had turned toward me when I heard my name called.
“Ms. Sterling, am I interrupting something?” he asked in a sarcastic tone. The room burst out in laughter.
“Um, no,” I said, hoping no one would notice the flush I felt building up on my cheeks.
“I expect the rules to be followed in my classroom. All of them. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, of course,” I replied, trying to pretend like I hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Then, will you do me the courtesy of putting your phone away this instant.”
I couldn’t help but notice that even though his words were phrased as a question, his tone of voice indicated it was a command.
I slid the phone under my notebook. Looking up at the board, I couldn’t believe the list of rules he had written – attendance was part of the grade, no being late, no eating or drinking, no electronic devices allowed in class, no talking without being called upon. The list went on and on.
He passed out the course syllabus and began his lecture. Looking over the list of books we were going to have to read during the quarter, I doubted this man believed in students having a good time at all. It was starting to sound like this class was going to be a lot harder than I thought it would be. I looked through my enrollment materials to see if there was a way to switch to a different class.
At long last, he began his lecture. He asked someone in the back of the room to turn off the lights so we could watch a video. I took this as my cue to resume the conversation I’d been having. I kept the phone below my desk so that no one could see it.
After the video had ended, we were given an assignment to complete before our next class. I raced to the door as soon as we were dismissed, thankful it had finally ended.
Unfortunately, not quickly enough…
“Ms. Sterling. I’d like to see you in my office before your next class, please.” Even though he said “please,” it didn’t sound like much of a request at all. If anything, it sounded like this man hadn’t fully escaped the military and believed he could issue orders at will to any student under his purview and expect unconditional compliance.
“What’s that all about?” Tabitha asked.
“I’m sure it’s nothing. He served with my father. My mother spoke with him before I came to Moorpark. Since we haven’t met in person yet, he probably just wants to introduce himself and give me his contact info in case I ever need anything.”
“I don’t know… it sounded a bit more serious than that.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll catch up with you at lunch.”
I made my way up the stairs to the second floor where his office was. I took a deep breath before opening the door.
“You wanted to see me, Trevor?” I asked, entering his office.
His office was very orderly. He had a large, solid oak desk that was meticulously organized, two hard wooden chairs were placed in front of it, and a black leather couch was off to the side. Behind his desk was a cabinet. He had hundreds of books, neatly lined up on shelves floor to ceiling on a different wall. I wondered if he hadn’t taken out his ruler to ensure that all of them were properly spaced.
He looked up from what he was working on.
“I will ask that you refer to me as Professor McKnight or Mr. McKnight,” he said, in a stern voice, as he gestured for me to sit in one of the chairs facing him.
“Fine, MISTER McKnight,” I said, plopping myself down, drawing out the word “mister” for emphasis.
“Ms. Sterling, do you know why I asked you here?”
“I’d prefer that you call me Sam. That’s what all my friends call me.”
He completely disregarded my comment and continued. “Ms. Sterling, as you are aware, your mother and I engaged in lengthy discussions regarding whether sending you to Moorpark University was the most appropriate choice for you to continue your studies. It seems, you’ve had some trouble back home, haven’t you?”
What on earth did my mother tell him? She had no business doing that. I could tell I was going to have to break her of her delusions of ongoing control over me. I was a full grown adult woman. She needed to adjust to that.
“Whatever,” I said, in a flabbergasted tone. As though what happened back home was any of his business, anyway. I mean, I know he knew my dad and all, but to me, he was a complete stranger. And he was a stranger to my mom, too. Why would she have shared anything with him?
He rubbed his chin and looked at me like he had something important to say. Since I was planning on dropping his course, anyway, I was certain it was of little concern to me.
“Did your mother disclose the nature of what we had discussed?
“Yeah, she said that you would be here in case I got into any trouble,” I responded, rolling my eyes. “That’s very nice of you. I’m sure I’ll be fine. Do you want to give me your phone number or something?”
“I don’t think you fully understand, Ms. Sterling. While you are correct that I will be here if you get into any trouble, part of my role here will be to ensure that you also stay out of trouble.”
“Um. Okay…” I said, picking up my backpack and purse as I got out of the chair. “Well, it was very nice meeting you in person. I think I will see about finding my next class.”
“Sit. Down. Now.” he commanded.
He glared at me, and I stared right back.
“Fine,” I said, parking myself back down in the chair.
“I think we have a couple of things we need to talk about today. To begin with, let’s start with the matter of your behavior in my class earlier, shall we?”
“What? You said put the phone away. I did. What more do you want from me?”
“Do you think I didn’t see that you pulled it back out during the video? I expressly told you one of the rules is that electronic devices are not to be turned on while you are in my classroom.”
Suddenly, my stomach felt hollow.
“Oh. That. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure not to do that again. I plan on talking to my counselor about dropping your class, anyway, so you won’t need to worry about that in the future. Are we done here?” I asked, standing up again.
“No, we are not,” he said sternly. “I will advise you when we have finished. Until then, I expect you to remain seated in your chair unless I direct you otherwise.”
Man, he sure is uptight.
“So, returning to our discussion regarding your behavior, what do you think we should do about this?”
“I already apologized. What more do you want?”
He paused for a moment.
“Ms. Sterling, when was the last time you were spanked?”
“Um… Not that I remember, but maybe when I was five or six-years-old. I don’t think that’s really any of your business, though.”
He stood up and put his hands on his desk. Leaning forward, he said, “I had hoped we would have time to get to know one another before it came to this, but clearly, you’ve left me no other choice. Your behavior was unacceptable today. I cannot allow you to get away with that.”
“So what are you going to do? Spank me?”
“Well, funny you should ask, because that is exactly what I have in mind.”
“There’s no way in hell you’re going to spank me. What right do you think you have?”
“The right that I have is the full support of your mother. That’s all I need.”
“She would never agree to such a barbaric thing as spanking. She doesn’t believe that it’s an effective method to discipline children. Plus, I’m not a child, anyway. Unquestionably, you are mistaken. Even if my mother really did give you permission, I’m an adult now. I no longer have to follow her every whim.”
He sat back down and leaned back in his chair.
“Your mother and I have talked at length about what we believe you need. That is why she sent you here. We had intended to discuss this with you once I’d had the opportunity to evaluate the situation. It’s far worse than I had anticipated. I didn’t expect outright impertinence from you so soon.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re wrong. My mother would never agree to any such thing. Call her now and ask.”
His assumption of authority over me was starting to irritate me. I stared at him in disbelief. If this was some kind of joke, he sure was doing a good job pretending to be totally serious.
“I want you to stand over there in the corner with your nose against the wall,” he said, pointing to the far corner of his office. “While you are there, I want you to think about your behavior. You will stay there until I get her on the line.”
“What?”
“Now!” he bellowed in a tone befitting that of a drill sergeant.
It scared me a little, so I got up and did as he said.
“You are to remain standing there with your hands on your head until I tell you that you can stop. Is that clear?”
“Yes,” I said.
First he treats the students in his class like they are kindergarteners, and then he treats me like some naughty five year old put in time-out. Unbelievable. Who would have ever thought this is how my first day of college would have turned out?
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