Kiss Me Constance

by Margaret Jane

 

She walked through the double doors and inhaled deeply. That smell of polish and wax took her back over five years. She’d last been in this building as a school girl and was returning as a newly qualified teacher of English literature. She couldn’t wait to get started.

Most of her colleagues had been teachers when she was a pupil here and she expected some gentle teasing about her behaviour as a student. She had certainly been a bit of a rebel in her early years at the school but by the time she reached sixth form she had transformed into quite a swot, getting excellent exam results and taking the starring role in the school production of Calamity Jane. She had headed off to Edinburgh University, gaining a first class degree in English, then qualifying as a teacher. She was delighted when a junior position became available at her old school and ecstatic when she got the job.

The headmistress, Miss Austin, greeted Constance warmly and escorted her to her new classroom.

"I’ll leave you to get familiar with your surroundings Connie, Mr Crothers will be along to see you soon. You remember Mr Crothers? He’s head of the English Department now that old Vollers has retired, hence the opening for your job."

Miss Austin could have no idea about the sensations her words caused within Constance’s soul. Mr Crothers! So he was still here, was he? Constance was transported back well over ten years to her fourteen year old self, to an English class taken by Mr Crothers and her telling him that she hadn’t read the short stories of W Somerset Maugham because she found them unutterably boring. Constance could still remember the look he’d given her and the intake of breath from her classmates - no one gave Mr Crothers cheek - he was reckoned to be far too dangerous. He’d given her detention and an extra essay on the use of metaphor within Maugham’s writing but on her way out of the class that day he’d clapped a hand on her shoulder and held her back.

"Should you ever speak to me like that again Miss Carson, I’ll give you the spanking you deserve. I’m sure you know you can take me at my word."

Constance could remember blushing violently and the fact that her knees had weakened with the weight of his hand on her shoulder.

He’d raised an eyebrow at her "Well?"

"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir. It won’t happen again."

He hadn’t spoken again but jerked his head towards the door dismissing her. She had almost expected to feel his hand slapping her bottom as she fled the room, but it hadn’t happened.

Constance had lost count of the number of times she’d relived that scene since then. It never failed to make her squirm slightly and even now feel a bit embarrassed. The idea of being spanked had begun to fascinate her since that day and she’d been disappointed when Mr Vollers had taken her ‘O’ level class.

Her only other dealing with Mr Crothers had been when he directed Calamity Jane, giving her the title role. He had been a hard task master then too, giving her some fairly specific instructions about how she was supposed to feel when submitting to the will of Wild Bill Hickok. She could remember that conversation very well too.

"So, Calamity knows she’s been a silly, foolish girl. She knows she should have listened to Bill, not been so stubborn. If she’d just been obedient to him in the first place she wouldn’t have to go after Katie now. So you need to think about how it feels to be a chastened, subdued girl who is subject to a man’s will for the first time in her life. If you need any help with that Constance, you just let me know. I’ll be only too happy to supply you with some first hand experience."

Again Constance had felt her knees tremble a bit. From then on she’d incorporated his little speech into her fantasies.

University had been a wonderful experience but she’d never found the intellectual or sexual stimulation she really craved. The phrase ‘callow youths’ seemed to sum up the boys her own age. Only once had she got up the courage to broach what she’d like, with a boyfriend. She really liked him and trusted him too and after they’d been together for a while she’d snuggled up to him one night, rested her hand on his bare chest and said, "You haven’t beaten me yet." His reaction was one of such horror that she’d never spoken about it to him or anyone else again. She was ashamed of where she knew her inclinations lay and was almost resigned to never having them fulfilled.

And now here she was, waiting for her first class and with the knowledge that Billy Crothers was her head of department. And suddenly there he was in the doorway. His light hearted tone totally disarmed her.

"Miss Carson, what a pleasure to welcome you to the team. I’ll see you after school and we can go through the curriculum in some detail, until then I’ll let you get on with your first day." He turned to go and she still hadn’t uttered a word. Then, as if recollecting something, he turned to say, "You’ll be pleased to know we’re studying William Trevor’s short stories this year, poor old Somerset Maugham has been consigned to the dustbin." And he winked at her. He quite deliberately winked and then exited the room.

Constance stood very still, amazed at the power she felt emanating from him. His presence was overpowering, he was coming to discuss the curriculum with her after class, and he obviously remembered their spat about Maugham. This information kept her in a state of semi-excitement all day. She enjoyed her first day of teaching, she had a natural and easy manner with her students and this coupled with a genuine enthusiasm for her subject meant she had no trouble at all.

Her conversation with Mr Crothers after class left her rather disappointed though. He took her through the syllabus and concentrated on her teaching methods.

"So, Miss Carson," he said finally "I’m happy, now that we’re colleagues, for you to call me Billy. Are you happy for me to call you Constance?"

"Yes, Sir." She blushed at her mistake. "Sorry, Sir. I mean sorry, Billy. Of course you can call me Constance, Connie if you like?"

He smiled "Fine, Connie it is then. Well Connie, I know you’ve only been here a day but I’m already getting good reports and I don’t expect you to have any problems with discipline in your class. If you do have any difficulties, let me know. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know I have an excellent record in that area. I don’t think I’ve even had to threaten to spank anyone for about ten years. But then I’m sure you have a very good recollection of that day." He raised an eyebrow. Constance blushed and looked down, no one had said the word "spanking" to her since then.

"Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten, Connie?"
"No, no I haven’t forgotten, Billy"

"No, something told me you’d remember." He reached out and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. She jumped as if she’d been electrocuted. Another smile played around his lips "I’ll see you at the staff meeting tomorrow."

Constance drifted through that evening, she prepared for the next day’s lessons in a haze and didn’t sleep well. She arrived at the staff meeting feeling wan. Miss Austin made some announcements and then handed over to Mr Crothers.

"I know it’s early in the term but we need to get working on the school play." Some of the other staff groaned. Mr Crothers laughed, "I know, I know, but we need to get on with it" He glanced at Constance. "I thought Miss Carson might like to assist me this year. She’s new, enthusiastic and had the starring role herself, not too long ago."

There was a murmur of approval around the room and Constance found herself the centre of attention. In order to deflect this Constance said, "What’s the play this year?"

"Kiss Me Kate" he replied with a smile that only she was supposed to interpret correctly.

She smiled back at him. "I would be delighted to help you, Billy. Just let me know where and when you need me."

"Thanks Connie, come and see me at lunchtime and we can discuss the schedule."

She dandered along to his office with her sandwich, during the lunch break. He was waiting for her and took her through what was quite an intensive timetable of auditions, rehearsals, dress rehearsals etc. It appeared they would be spending a lot of time together.

"Now, I always find that casting the principals is very important. For example I chose Jimmy Taylor very carefully to compliment you when he played Bill Hickok"

"Did you?" She asked, surprised. "I always thought he was a bit of a wuss, hardly Howard Keel, was he?"

"Maybe, Connie, I was trying to show you the contrast between a man and a boy." Constance held her breath and then held his gaze. He was looking deep into her eyes.

"I think I know the difference, Billy." She said pertly, "perhaps we could get back to Kiss Me Kate?"

"Fine, fine." He said, leaning back in his chair and drumming his fingers lightly on the table. "Now I had to work hard to convince Miss Austin to let me put on this play. Care to hazard a guess why?"

He was going to make her say it and she was determined to look at him as she did.

"I assume it’s because of the spanking scene?" She held his gaze.

"Indeed, the spanking scene. Have you any ideas how we can interpret that for a modern audience?"

"I do actually, why don’t we get her to give an Anne Robinson, Weakest Link, type wink as she’s being spanked." She faltered, "...almost as if she’s being post-ironic?"

"I’ve never really understood that expression." He responded, "That might work I suppose. But we wouldn’t want to give the impression that Kate was enjoying her punishment. After all, a spanking is supposed to deliver a stern message, isn’t it?"

"I wouldn’t know, Billy, I’ve never been spanked."

There, she’d said it. She knew her face must be very red. She’d both said and heard the word "spanking" more times in the last five minutes than in the whole of her life. She had her legs pressed tightly together and was glad she was wearing a padded bra because her nipples were rock hard in response to his words.

"How desperately sad Connie. Possibly one day some lucky man will rectify that situation. Let’s get back to Kiss Me Kate shall we."

Constance was horrified. She’d given him the opening she thought he was looking for and she’d been rebuffed in no uncertain terms. She swallowed hard, tried to get control of her emotions and concentrate on what he was saying. All she was really aware of was that she wasn’t going to get the spanking she wanted. She’d totally misread the situation.

Later that night though, upon reflection, she knew she was wrong. He had been flirting with her, he had been sexually suggestive and he had damn well enjoyed her discomfort at lunchtime when her embarrassment was obvious. So that was his game, he didn’t want it offered up to him on a plate. Well she could play that game too - she wouldn’t offer it up to him again, he’d have to come and take it from her - forcibly.

So began a few weeks of a very clever psychological dance between the two of them. Constance gently teasing Billy to try and provoke him and he gently menacing her. Both seemed to relish the flirtation and both their colleagues and the students seemed to be aware of the chemistry between them.

Casting was complete and rehearsals were underway. Billy had organised a private rehearsal for Constance, him and the two principals to have a first run through of the big scene. Rhonda and Mark were both great kids and very talented. Rhonda had confessed her nervousness about the spanking scene to Constance, who had reassured her. The costume mistress was making a specially adapted dress with a well padded behind so Rhonda wouldn’t feel a thing.
Constance watched, somewhat awed, as Billy put the students at their ease, explained the scene, how integral it was to the story and how they were going to handle it. Despite his professionalism both kids were awkward and gauche. Rhonda was obviously deeply embarrassed at being held over Mark’s knee and couldn’t stop wriggling.

Finally Billy called a halt. "Look, we’ll leave it for today. Just think about what I’ve said. It’s just another part of the script, don’t worry, we’ll get there."

Mark said jokingly, "Maybe you should spank Miss Carson, Mr Crothers. Just to show us how it’s done."

Billy tried to laugh this off but Constance wasn’t going to make it easy for him and said pointedly, "Oh no, Mark, it would take a man to do that job. I don’t think someone who thinks he’s a man but is actually a little boy stuck in adolescence is quite suitable, do you?"

Mark and Rhonda looked from one teacher to the next and beat a hasty retreat.

Billy inclined his head towards her. "So, I’m still in my adolescence am I?"

She nodded her head insolently. "Well, if the cap fits, possibly just this once, you could wear it on your big head!"

"Now who is being childish?"

Constance tossed her head and looked away from him, she had no intention of deigning that with a reply.

She was given no choice when he strode to her side and whirled her round to face him. He backed her swiftly to a wall so she was pressed against it. ‘Okay’ she thought ‘maybe now he’ll act.’ Her pulse raised, her lips parted slightly and her chest rose and fell, her breath coming rapidly.

"You’ve been asking for this for quite a while now, haven’t you, Miss Carson?" She noted the use of her surname.

"Asking for what Mr Crothers?" She taunted.

"Oh, you know very well, Miss Connie Carson, you’re looking for the spanking I threatened you with many years ago. Tell me something Connie, have you been thinking about it for long? Have you imagined being turned over my knee? Are your knickers up or down? Do I have your hands pinned in the small of your back or are your palms pressed to the floor?"

All the while he had her backed to the wall, breathing directly into her face. She blushed furiously, he was laying her soul bare, how did he know her thoughts so well?

"You flatter yourself, Mr Billy Crothers."

He grinned. It appeared the time for talking was over at last. He dragged her with him and sat down on the nearest chair. Pulling her roughly over his lap the slaps began to fall immediately. He gave her no time to adjust herself to her new prone position. She gasped and writhed, but it was with embarrassment. This wasn’t fulfilling her expectations, there were too many layers of clothes protecting her backside. Almost as this thought formed in her mind, he seemed to realise it as well.

"To paraphrase Cole Porter and Shakespeare, my sting is about to be in your tail, Connie. Your very bare tail. Lift your bottom. Now!" This last word was accompanied by a resounding smack.

She bent further forwards and lifted her backside a few inches off his thighs. He was easily able to push her skirt up and yank her knickers down. "That’s better."

And then Constance knew what it was like to be Kate as her first spanking began in earnest. It hurt and he intended it to. Each slap had full effect as he spanked the entire surface of her backside, neglecting nothing. She began to squirm and twitch. Her face must be as red as her bottom. She was acutely aware of him watching her buttocks as they jiggled and bounced in time with his swipes. She also knew that despite the pain, which was more excruciating than she’d ever anticipated, she was getting wet and she wondered if he could see that too. In her imagination she’d always received six or twelve spanks. Billy had delivered at least thirty hard blows to her bare
bottom before he paused.

"Still think I’m a boy, not a man?"

"No. No, Sir." She sobbed brokenly.

"Ever going to speak to me like that again?"

"No, Sir!" She wailed.

"That’s better." He then proceeded to give another half dozen swift, hard, swats to her arse before setting her on her feet in front of him. He stood up and looked down at her.

She gazed up at him the tears shining in her eyes. He lent over and brushed his lips against the corner of her right eye to remove the tear there. This caused her to begin sobbing. He took her in his arms and held her tenderly letting her cry against his shoulder. This was what she wanted, this was what she’d fantasised about. When she had exhausted herself he bent her backwards ever so slightly.

"Kiss me, Constance." He said before planting his mouth firmly over hers and kissing her more fiercely than she’d ever been kissed before.

And in obedience, she kissed him back.