“Ready for another game, Terry.” Faith had been thinking hard. Terry would only spank her in role-play, and role-play wasn’t her gift. He’d moved one of the kitchen chairs into the bedroom and put a thick book, The Columbia History of the World, on the seat. The space was ready for a spanking; he must be ready, too.

“Well, Faith, I’ve been thinking. Don’t I deserve some games, too? Look!” He brought out a shiny nickel.

“How did you get one that bright?”

Terry smiled. This game needed some symbols.

“It’s relatively new, but I polished it. I figured we needed a symbol. Heads I choose; tails you choose.”

“Don’t we call it?”

“Nah! Your game involves your tail, after all. Have a place to keep it between games? I don’t want to shine a new coin every time.” And he’d decided that one symbol was the tail. For that matter, the tip that would be opening her in his games was the head of his organ.

“Sure.” She gave him a box her new earrings had come in. She kept them in her jewel case, not the store’s box.

“Great. Let’s strip and you flip it onto the bed.” She stripped, waited for him -- men took so long with their shoes, and flipped the coin. It came up tails. “Tails.”

“Mr. Brown, I’m sorry I copied from Sarah,” she began.

“Copying is a very serious offence. Do you know what grade you’re in?” He had to have more information before he could play his role.

“I’m in ninth. See in your book: ‘Mary Smith, ninth grade.’”

“Don’t get lippy with me, young woman! How’d you like to be in the ninth grade next year. Then you wouldn’t have Sarah to copy from.” He was thinking fast. She’d end up over his lap, but she should play at being forced to it.

“Aren’t you ending a sentence with a preposition Mr. Brown?”

“On the other hand, you could be in the eighth grade next year.” Okay. That was the way they’d play it. She’d be a ninth-grade girl in a one-room school. Still, it would take a lot of suspension of disbelief to handle Faith’s lovely, full, ass and pretend that it belonged to a ninth-grader.

“Oh, no. Please don’t, Mr. Brown. I’m truly sorry. I’ll do anything.” In particular, she was willing to bend over his lap and get spanked.

“There’s nothing you can do. If you were a boy, I’d spank you. But girls get held back.” Let Faith’s character beg for it. Mary! He’d have to remember that the girl he was spanking was Mary.

“Not another year in ninth grade. But I know my lessons. Couldn’t you spank me?”

“No. For being lippy, much less for copying, the punishment is a spanking on the bare bottom.”

“Not my bare bottom! I’m a modest girl.”

“Doesn’t have to be.” He sat down on the history book. “You can be held back a grade. Choose!” She walked over to stand on his right.

“Please sir, not bare.”

“A bare ninth-grader or a clothed eighth-grader. It’s your choice.” Looking reluctant, she mimed removing her skirt. She stood with her thumbs on the waistband of her imaginary panties. “Bare means bare. Be bare on top, too.” She mimed stripping off her blouse. She figured a ninth-grader back then wouldn’t be wearing a bra. “And now your panties.”

“Oh no! Please!” But she mimed taking down her panties. When she stood, she covered her delta with her hands.

“Lie down on my lap. Then I can’t see what you’re trying to hide.” She lay down on his lap. She could already feel Terry’s -- or Mr. Brown’s -- erection against her side. “Now put your hands on the back of your neck.” When she did, he brushed her hair forward and held both her hands in his left. He stroked over her butt with his fingers.

“Mr. Brown!”

“Oh, yes.” He pulled his hand back, paused while she caught her breath, and brought it down hard. He’d really got into that swing.

“Owww!”

“Oh yes. I’m supposed to be spanking you. Well, count for me.” He spanked her again.

“Ow. Two.”

“But you didn’t count one. This is one.” It was another strong swing.

“One.” She counted up to five. Then he stroked her butt with his fingers. One finger slipped between her cheeks and along her slit. “Mr. Brown!” He immediately slapped her hard. “Oww! Six.”

“Are you so anxious to be spanked then?” He brought his hand down again.

“No sir. I’ll be good. Haven’t you spanked me enough?” He hit her again, hard.

“Ow. Eight.”

“Maybe. You should go back to first grade. You can’t count. You missed seven.” He slapped her again.

“Seven.” Terry’s spanking was beginning to hurt her ass. All this talking in between got him able to have each slap a full, hard, swing. He slid his finger along her slit again. Between the spanks, the position, and his rubbing her lips, she was really getting turned on. “But, Mr. Brown, I’m a good girl.” She expected this slap, and howled. Then she counted, “Eight.”

“Good girls don’t copy from other girls’ papers. Or do you mean that nobody has touched you like this before.” He figured that he’d warm her up while he was warming up her ass. With any luck, they could get the fuck into the game.

“Nobody has.” And, schoolgirl Mary aside, nobody had touched her in quite that way before. Not even Terry. He spanked her again, immediately.