Starting With Mr. J

[jamessc]

Ellen sat on her bed in the dorm room, her knees drawn up to her chest, and tears in her eyes. She was glad her roommate had gone home for the weekend; she didn’t want anyone to see her this way.

Only a few weeks ago, Ellen was thrilled with the idea of her freshman year. She was away from home, on her own, her own boss. She plunged at once into the parties, the bar scenes, letting her hair down and having a toot.

She’d been a good student in high school, a Beta Club member. But on her desk were some of her latest test grades, and they weren’t good. Too much time partying, not enough studying, and being hungover in class was no help. However, those grades weren’t why she had tears in her eyes on a Saturday afternoon.

That morning, Ellen had woken up in a strange bed, with a young man of whom she had absolutely no memory. Thankfully, he must have been even drunker than she had been, because he was sleeping so soundly that he didn’t rouse as she gathered her clothes in shame and horror and slunk back across campus to her own dorm room.

“I’m out of control,” she whispered to herself. “I never thought I’d be like this! I need some help!” She laid her head on her crossed arms over her knees and cried for a long time. As she raised her head, she saw the campus paper on her roommate’s bed, and went to pick it up. It slipped from her fingers and fell on the floor, opening to the classified section.

Her eyes fell on the “Personals” ads, and the first one made her draw a sharp breath. “Are you out of control? Lacking self-discipline? I can help. Call Mr. J at ….” She crossed the room to the phone on the wall and dialed the number with a shaky hand.

“Hello?” a deep male voice answered after the third ring. “Is..is this Mr. J?” Ellen whispered hoarsely. “I saw your ad, and…and..” “You knew you needed help,” the soothing masculine finished for her—she could almost see the smile on his face as he spoke. Ellen let out a big breath before saying, “Yes, yes I do.”

“Tell me what’s wrong,” the voice continued. So Ellen poured it all out—the drinking, the poor time management, the bad grades, the shock of last night’s foolhardiness, even her bingeing on junk food. “You really do need help,” Mr. J firmly told her. “I’m at 36 Sycamore Lane. Do you know where that is?” “Y-yes,” Ellen blurted, the tears starting all over again. “Good,” he said, “I want you here in 30 minutes. Do you understand?”

“O-okay,” Ellen stammered. “Ellen, the proper answer is ‘yes, sir,’” he corrected, with an sudden edge to his voice. “Don’t be late.” “Yes..sir,” Ellen responded, wondering, a bit fearfully, where this would lead.

Thirty-three minutes later, Ellen pulled into the driveway at 36 Sycamore Lane. She was nervous, she craved candy when she was nervous, and that machine at the dorm was a disgrace; that, she told herself, caused the delay. She wiped her damp palms on the back of her jeans as she walked up to the door and rang the bell.

Ellen often joked that at 5’9”, she was “on the short end of tall.” The man who opened the door was at the other end—she barely came up to his chest! She swallowed and said, “Mr. J?”

“That’s right, Ellen. Come in,” he boomed, with no trace of a smile on his face. He held the door open, and she almost tiptoed past him. “Come into the living room,” he said.

He was not only tall, but broad-shouldered, with long arms and large hands, ending in strong, blunt fingers, the back of the hands covered with black hair, like that which peeked out from the neckline of his shirt collar. He sat in a black leather club chair suited to his frame, and Ellen felt almost the way Jack must have felt in the giant’s castle. She stood before him—something inside her told her that she must not sit until she was told.

With a wave of his big hand, he indicated a footstool in front of his chair, and she sat without taking her eyes off this—masterful---man. “I feel as if I’m a child again,” she realized. His steely blue eyes seemed to pierce her to the heart.

“Ellen,” he began, “what you told me today indicates that you need someone to save you from yourself. Is that not true?” She gulped nervously and nodded. He had hit it squarely on the head—that was just what she needed. She’d tried to be her own boss, and failed miserably. If she kept on as she’d begun, who knows what could happen to her and her dreams?

“Remember what my ad said, Ellen?” he questioned with just a hint, now, of a smile. “Y-yes..sir,” she answered, instinctively adding the word of respect. “ ‘Lacking self-discipline,’ you said.” “That’s correct,” he replied, rubbing the palms of those big hands together. “And what does someone lacking in self-discipline need?”

Ellen couldn’t remember later having thought about it at all—the words just seemed to come to her lips. “She needs discipline from someone else, sir.”

Mr. J nodded, and the hint of a smile became more distinct. “You understand. Someone needs to supply the discipline you lack, Ellen. That’s how I intend to help you.” She couldn’t look away from his face, even though her breaths came quick and shallow. “How will that work, sir?” she whispered.

“Very simply, Ellen,” he said quietly. “You’ve been acting like a child. I will treat you as one until you reach that place where it is no longer so. In short, when you go partying, instead of studying, when you eat too much, drink too much, and otherwise indulge your whims, you will be spanked like the child you resemble.”

“Spanked?” she squeaked. She hadn’t been spanked in years! She thought back, in a moment, to those times she had been…and remembered how those spankings had changed her stubborn behavior, cleared the air between her and her parents, and how she had been reassured that someone cared, that someone wouldn’t let her keep messing things up. It was that feeling of caring that she had been missing—no one seemed to care if she crashed and burned; no one but this awe-inspiring man….

“Yes, Ellen, spanked. You will report to me every day, including your grades, your food intake, everything. You will consult me before you go out with your friends, and if I say no, and you persist, you will be punished for it. I know a lot of people in this town, so don’t think you can get past me. What do you have to say?”

It wasn’t, she thought to herself, as if she had any real choice. Flunking was the least that could happen if she didn’t get help, and there were so many worse things! Licking her dry lips, she whispered, “Yes, sir. You’re right. That’s just what it will take.”

It was finally a real smile that played over his firm features. “I’m glad you agree. We will begin right now. How long did I give you to get here this afternoon?”

She blinked. Did he intend to go as far as that? “Th-thirty minutes, sir,” she said, putting her hands in her lap to avoid wringing them. “And how long did it take you?” he glowered.

“Th-thirty-three, I think, sir.”

“That’s right. And what delayed you, Ellen?”

Swallowing hard, she answered, “I stopped by the candy machine on the way out, sir.”

“So you put your childish desire for candy before obeying my directive. Isn’t that right?”

She paled under her tan. She really hadn’t thought of it that way…but she couldn’t deny it, either. She couldn’t lie while looking in those eyes of his. “Yes, sir, I did.”

“Stand up, Ellen, and unfasten your jeans.”

Her eyes went wide. Being spanked was one thing—but taking off her clothes? She placed both hands, one over the other, over her waistline, and just barely shook her head.

“Ellen!” he thundered, and she quailed. “A naughty, disobedient child gets spanked on her bare bottom! It’s a waste of time to do it any other way! Now do as you’re told!”

She couldn’t hold out on him…she just couldn’t. She’d never met someone so commanding, so dominating. With shaky hands, she undid the button and unzipped the fly. She didn’t need to ask what to do next. She slid the jeans down to her ankles and stepped out of them. Standing before him in her T-shirt, panties, and sneakers, she clenched and unclenched her hands, waiting.

He stood and crossed to the footstool, then sat on it. Taking Ellen by the arm, he gently, but firmly, pulled her over to him, then over his knee. Her long brown hair fell to the floor as she caught herself by placing her hands on the floor. Under her thin cotton panties, her buttocks clenched in fear.

He waited until she relaxed, then slipped his thumb under her panty waistline and peeled them down her legs, as if he was peeling a banana, all the way down till he stopped midway between her knees and ankles. “Ellen, you were three minutes late without a good excuse. Each one of those minutes will cost you ten spanks. You will count each one. If you don’t, not only will it not count, but we will start over at one.”

“Y-yes, sir,” she whispered. If someone had told her a few days ago that she would be lying bare-bottomed over the knee of a man she had just met, ready to be spanked like a little girl, she would have laughed and told that person where to go and what to do when he got there. But here she was. She felt so small, so vulnerable, so exposed.

SMACK!

Ellen arched back and nearly screeched through clenched teeth, “One, sir!”

SMACK! “T-two, sir!”

SMACK! “Th-three, sir!”

He was covering her bottom with hard smacks, each one feeling like a massive bee sting, but with a growing heat. She began squirming, once reaching back to cover her burning bottom. He took her wrist, held it to her back, and held her down. She knew escape was impossible.

He spanked slowly, a couple of seconds between each one, so that the pain seemed to grow and spread like a fire. Her sneakers beat the floor like a drum, to no avail.

SMACK! “Th-thirty, SIR!” The word seemed to tear out of her very soul. He stopped. She had long since ceased even trying to avoid the hard hand slapping her cheeks. Instead, she lay limp over his knee, sobbing, broken, all her resistance gone.

He let her cry for a few minutes; when her breathing became more regular, he gently took her by the right shoulder. “It’s over. Time to get up, Ellen.”

She pushed herself up awkwardly and stood before him, clutching her aching bottom, tears still streaming from red eyes.

“Ellen,” he said, almost tenderly, “in the future, you will not touch your buttocks without permission after a spanking. Since this is your first, I’ll permit it, but only today. After this, doing that will get you further punishment.”

She nodded—she couldn’t speak, not yet. After a few minutes, she raised her eyes to his, and whispered, “Now what, sir?”

“Get dressed, Ellen.”

She slid her panties up—her bottom felt hot, as if it must be glowing! The elastic scraping over her skin made her gasp, as did pulling up her jeans. She dreaded the very thought of having to sit on that car seat on the way back to campus. After fastening her jeans and pulling her hair behind her, she looked up.

“Report to me tomorrow at 4 p.m. sharp, Ellen. Bring your schoolwork, all of it, including your assignment schedule. Also, bring your checkbook, because we will be going over your spending habits. You will not go out tonight, and I want you in bed by 10 p.m. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she nodded, looking through her tears at a man who commanded her deepest respect. “And thank you, sir.”

The hand that had spanked her so hard now rested gently on her shoulder as he steered her towards the door. She turned, and he raised her chin with one powerful finger. He kissed her—not on the lips, of course; that would have been inappropriate, she mused—but on her forehead, as a father might after disciplining, and forgiving, a naughty child. She blushed, and even though her buttocks still burned, her heart felt the rising of hope.

She waved to him, still standing on the doorstep, as she drove away.

[padded23]

AWESOME!!!!!! Please continue this arc!

[badgirl2023]

I love it! Great Job!

[sgtjoe]

Yeah, good story!