1 comments/ 17232 views/ 1 favorites The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 00 By: caligula97236 Introduction - Author's notes about "The Wanderings of Amy" and other erotic discipline fiction The "Wanderings of Amy" was my first effort to write fiction of any sort. I had prior experience writing works of non-fiction, journalism, and academic research. However, I had always wanted to write fiction and have had ideas for a couple of political novels for many years. During the summer of 2002, for reasons I myself do not understand, I started to write a story in which I sought to explore a variety of erotic punishment scenarios. Originally I intended to write a story of about 10 chapters, but as my imagination took off, I ended up with a novel of 28 chapters instead. "The Wanderings of Amy" began its existence as a series of connected short stories posted to several Yahoo spanking forums. I did not write the novel from beginning to end. The chapters that most heavily concentrate on scenes of discipline were written first. As I became more interested in developing the characters I subsequently wrote the chapters that do not have discipline scenes. I sought to explore their issues and thought patterns, and how their personalities make them interact with each other. I needed to develop a plot to justify the characters' punishments, and then develop the characters to make the plot flow. As time went on I began to like my characters more and more, and increasingly sought to explore their lives, as well as their thoughts and personalities. Because "The Wanderings of Amy" was my first novel, I experimented to find a style of storytelling that worked for what I was trying to accomplish. My work on the project did not end with the concluding chapter, because I did two major revisions of the chapters to make them more consistent and to further develop the characters after completing the original draft. I later came to like my characters so much that I later wrote a non-fetish version of the story that continues the characters' lives three years past the ending of the fetish version. The characters from "The Wanderings of Amy" remained largely forgotten during 2004 while I wrote my second novel "Maragana Girl". However, as I started working with Poser and creating images for both novels, the characters from the first novel re-entered my mind as I selected models to represent them in my art and began making illustrations. The models I used for Amy Debbs and Suzanne Foster were downloaded character sets, but I decided to create my own characters to represent Robert Johnson, Ruth Burnside, and Paul Glisan from original base models I purchased from DAZ. As "Maragana Girl" neared its conclusion, the desire to further develop a couple of the characters from "The Wanderings of Amy" returned to my thoughts. My original idea was to write a novel that featured the earlier years of my fictional dominatrix Ruth Burnside. However I felt that I did not have enough material to dedicate an entire novel to Dr. Burnside. I solved the problem by making her a secondary character in my third novel "The Freshman". Another character from "The Wanderings of Amy", the photographer Suzanne Foster, also makes brief appearance in "The Freshman". Originally there was no connection between the plots or characters of my first two novels "The Wanderings of Amy" and "Maragana Girl". However, because one of the goals I had for writing "The Freshman" was to further develop the lives of several characters from earlier projects, my third novel bridges the first two. The story of "The Wanderings of Amy" begins about three years after the conclusion of "The Freshman". Suzanne Foster, who was a college sophomore when she met Cecilia Sanchez, now is about to graduate. Dr. Ruth Burnside's life is somewhat less changed; instead of 38 she now is 42, but her career and her sex life remain the same. If you read "The Wanderings of Amy" in its entirety, you will notice that the punishment scenes throughout the novel vary tremendously. Scenarios can be M/F, F/F, or F/M, and characters that were submissive in one chapter can become dominant in another. That is because I wanted to keep the novel from becoming monotonous, and also because over the course of the story my characters grow and become more confident in themselves. The changes within my characters continued to be a pattern in my later novels "Maragana Girl" and "The Freshman". "The Wanderings of Amy" is a work of erotic fantasy. All characters and situations are purely figments of my imagination. The story is not intended to represent real people or events, nor how I feel people should behave in real life. There are a few autobiographical elements in certain events, descriptions, and characters in this story, but for the most part everything that takes place is purely a product of my head. I tried to keep the story's settings and elements as realistic as possible, but took the liberty to diverge from reality when I felt it was necessary to make the story flow better. The Setting for "The Wanderings of Amy" I have only been to Chicago once, so I know what the city looks like, and that is about it. I deliberately picked a city where I have not spent much time. The choice of Chicago was arbitrary, as were all other places mentioned in the story. I just needed some place names and chose some out of the Mid-West. The university is not supposed to be any in particular. The reader may assume that Amy and the other characters attend a major university, but it is a fictitious one, located in a western suburb away from the downtown area. My characters' names also are arbitrary. I was sparing with giving names to my characters on purpose. I chose common first names for everyone. In the cases where I felt I had to provide a last name, I simply used street names from the area where I currently live. My thoughts on erotic discipline fiction in general and influences on "The Wanderings of Amy" I became interested in erotic discipline fiction when I was about 15 years old. At that time some of the censorship laws in the bookstores were somewhat looser than they are today, so I had no trouble buying several Victorian-era erotic discipline novels. The two earliest novels I read were "A Man with a Maid" series and "Frank and I". I greatly enjoyed those novels and their generally upbeat mood and positive endings. Those two novels greatly influenced my how I viewed other erotic discipline fiction I read later. I believe that the single character that has most influenced erotic discipline literature is the fictitious dominatrix Harriet Marwood from "The Governess". I have seen elements of Harriet Marwood in many different erotic discipline stories that feature a dominant female character. Undoubtedly Harriet Marwood heavily influenced my character Ruth Burnside. However, Burnside also contains a lot of myself and shares many of my own thoughts and values. I presume that the most famous and influential novel in the genre of erotic discipline fiction has been "The Story of O". I read it, and found the psychological setting of the novel fascinating. However, I was repulsed by the novel's violence and scenes of mutilation. In spite of my overall dislike of "The Story of O", some of its influence has worked its way into "The Wanderings of Amy". Wendy Lee's submission to Ruth Burnside is as complete as O's submission was to Sir Stephen. However, in my story Ruth Burnside cares about Wendy and ultimately hopes to help her. Burnside subjects Wendy to intense suffering to satisfy Wendy's needs, not so much her own desires. In contrast with O, Wendy leaves her internment in Burnside's house a stronger person and is able to move on with her life. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 01 Chapter 1 - Robert's Apartment Chicago attorney Robert Johnson sat down at his office desk at 8:00 as usual. Behind him was a plate glass window that overlooked Lake Michigan, but he was in no mood to enjoy the view. Today is December 10, he reflected, exactly six months since Amy, the daughter of his law partner and friend John Debbs, had disappeared. It had been exactly four months since he lost his wife Tricia when she was hit by a drunk driver. It had been exactly two months since John himself had died, leaving Robert with the unenviable task of tracking down Amy, if at all possible. He had a feeling that something else would happen today on this 10th, another loss. It seemed that the 10th of the month had become an unlucky day for him. As his desk phone started to ring, Robert checked his ID machine before picking up. "Police Precinct # 14" read the display window. "What now?" he groaned as he picked up the phone. "Mr. Robert Johnson?" asked a tired cynical male voice on the other end. Typical cop voice. When he answered yes the voice continued. "We have a young female in custody, Amy Debbs. She claims that when she tried to call her father, John Debbs, from the station, the call was forwarded to your number." Robert sat up in his chair. Amy! So she had finally re-surfaced after six months! Thank God! "Ms. Debbs was picked up last night for shoplifting." the voice continued "She's here if you want to talk to her." Robert's initial reaction of happiness was replaced with a mixture of annoyance and worry. The 10th! It figures! "Put her on." A terrified sob came over the other end. "Robert? Where's my father?! Please! I'm so sorry! I need to talk to him!" Robert was shocked at the change in Amy's voice. She had always had a sarcastic in-your-face way of speaking to her father, or to anyone older than her, for that matter. He had known her since she was a child, but during the last couple of years, whenever he or any of the other partners in the office talked to her, she had been thoroughly rude to them. Amy, who in high school knew everything, now sobbing and saying she was sorry. Her voice reflected that that she was truly scared and that her spirit had been totally broken. He wondered what had happened to Amy during those six months. He would find out soon enough... "I'll be over in a few minutes to get you out. Put the cop back on..." Robert's annoyance had not gone away, but the first priority was to retrieve John's daughter, now the only living member of the Debbs family. He was pleased to find out that he could have her out of jail as soon as he posted bail. He was less pleased when he found out how much it would cost him. The first stop was the bank. Robert's bank account shank when he withdrew what he would need to post bail. It seemed ridiculous that such a large amount of money would be needed to post bail for a shoplifting charge. His annoyance increased when he examined the pre-bail and post-bail balances on his draft statement. Robert then entered the police station, shook hands with the officer who was handling Amy's case, and followed him to his desk where she was sitting. As they walked to the back of the station the officer explained the circumstances of Amy's arrest. She had entered a Fast-Mart at about 10:30 last night and started stuffing food items into her pants and pockets. There was a store videotape showing this. The three clerks in the store at the time grabbed her and pulled the food out of her clothes, then held her until a squad car arrived to pick her up. The clerks did not speak much English and there was not much to go on other than the videotape. In her post-arrest statement Amy Debbs claimed to have arrived alone from Detroit, where her best friend had died from a heroin overdose. She claimed not to have had anything to eat since being kicked out of a women's shelter, three days ago. Amy's change of appearance was even more shocking to Robert than the change in her voice. The first thing he noticed was her hair. She had permed it about three months before, and it could not have looked worse. About three inches of her natural brown color grew next to her scalp, but beyond that her hair was a tangle of dried matted curls, dyed blond and green, crackling from the chemicals she had put in it and full of oil and dirt. She was much thinner than she had been the last time Robert saw her, her face pale and with bags under her eyes. The only clothes she had were a pair of filthy jeans, a jean jacket that seemed to have been dropped in motor oil, a stained sweatshirt, and wet hiking boots. Her hands were cracked and the cracks filled with black dirt. Worst of all, the girl smelled as bad as she looked. Amy, in fact, had almost ended up being badly beaten in the holding cell because of her smell. Three female gang members stood over her taunting her while she cowered on the bench with her arms around her knees. She knew that the slightest response from her would provoke a beating from the gang members. The insults, and later threats, went on for hours. Finally, when it seemed that the gang members had grown bored with insulting her and were going to beat her up anyway, Amy was pulled out to call Robert. The cop processing her case had realized what was about to happen in the holding cell, and knowing that Robert was on his way, kept her at his desk until he arrived. Robert thumbed through the case folder, ignoring the terrified girl momentarily. There were no words of hello. Finally he turned to confront her. Still smarting from the money he needed to post bail, he stood over Amy glaring at her, as she cringed in her chair. Robert was not tall, only about 5 feet and 7 inches. However he compensated for his lack of height with a muscular build from working out and a sharp critical eye. "Amy, I am mad at you. The shoplifting is only part of it. How in the hell could you let yourself look like this?!" Amy stared at his shoes. "I...I didn't really want to call you. The police made me because they said the jail was too full and they wanted me out. My father isn't picking up and the line was forwarded to yours. I'm sorry I put you out like this. I'll go away as soon as we leave." "Oh no you won't! Remember the bail money? You are going to get your charges cleared up. I can't get the bail back until you do! You are going to pull yourself together! You are NOT taking off again!" "But what about my father? Why didn't he come to get me?" Robert paused. Now was not the time to tell Amy that her father was dead and that he had been left in charge of her affairs. Amy had enough to deal with right now and there would be plenty of time later to tell her what happened to John. Finally he said, telling part of the truth, "John wanted me to take care of this. I'll explain later, when we have some time." Robert called his office to tell them he would be out the rest of the day. He motioned Amy to follow him to his car. As she sat down in the passenger seat she realized that he seethed with anger at her. It wasn't the bail money he explained. Not really. He was disgusted that she had let herself become so degraded, that the once pretty girl that he knew only six months ago was now this pathetic shell of her former self. She had allowed herself to be broken, to be weak. And it was all due to her own actions. In spite of the cold outside he had to roll down his window to reduce the stench in the car from the filthy young woman. After a trip across the city they finally arrived at Robert's apartment building. The apartment reflected his personality, a practical demand for physical comfort and disdain for ornamentation. It was very large, with four bedrooms, an enormous living room, a large kitchen and two bathrooms. It occupied half of the top floor of his building. One entire wall of the living room was covered with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves containing thousands of books. All of the furniture had been chosen because it was practical or comfortable, not for any concession to fashion. The colors were all neutral. Numerous pictures hung on the walls, but none of them had been chosen by him. They were vintage pictures from his mother's house, inherited after she had died a few years ago. Were it not for his mother's death and the inheritance of the pictures Robert would have had none at all. The apartment's living room had a spectacular view of Chicago and the lake beyond, a view that would captivate Amy over the next several weeks. Robert's bedroom reflected the environment of a recently widowed man. Amy realized with a shock that Robert's wife Trisha was no longer at the apartment, and shocked again when Robert told her that she was dead. She had not known Robert's wife that well, but Amy felt that Tricia had been the only adult with whom she could get along in high school. For some odd reason Amy felt that Tricia would be the one person who could understand her, and had hoped to talk to her upon getting to Robert's apartment. Robert was struggling with the issue about what to tell Amy about John Debbs. She had to know, but there were other issues to contend with that needed more immediate attention. Courtney was dead, according to the police. He would need to find out the details and see if there was anything from that end that he needed to do. Amy needed to pull herself together, and Robert was not sure that knowing about her father at this moment would in any way help her. Above anything else, the girl needed to take off her fetid clothing and take a bath. "Stand there. Don't touch anything." Robert snapped at Amy. He started to fill up the Jacuzzi-style bathtub in the large bathroom, and ordered her to take off her clothes, put them in the washing machine, then get into the shower and shampoo her hair before getting into the bathtub. Amy hesitated about stripping in front of him. "Right now you're not much to look at. Just do it." But he turned away while she stripped and walked to the bathroom. As Amy settled into the bathtub, for her first bath in several weeks, Robert came in with a glass of orange juice and a bagel. It wasn't much, but if she had not eaten in three days she might get sick if she ate too much too quickly. Amy was too hungry to worry about the fact that Robert could see the tops of her breasts in the water. She emptied the glass and devoured the bagel. When she looked up at him, obviously hoping for more to eat, he responded, "You can have something else to eat after you get out. But don't get out for a while. You need to soak." He hung up a thick white terry-cloth robe on the door and left the bathroom. Amy had forgotten how comfortable a bath could be. To feel weightless in the water, especially after spending night after night on hard shelter beds, benches, and doorways, was like being in paradise. Robert did not need to tell her to stay in the tub. She had no desire to get out for a long time. Finally the pangs of hunger and the promise of more food forced her out. Amy looked at herself in the full-length mirror of the bathroom. No wonder her father's partner had said that she was not much to look at. She was very thin. She was pale and had sores on her feet. Even washed, her hair was hideous. She noticed how tired her face looked. Depressed by her appearance, she put on her robe and went to the dining room. Robert gave his guest the first of a series of small meals that she would have during the rest of the day. When she finished eating, she sat on one of the living room armchairs while he knelt in front of her to put disinfectant on her feet. It was then that he decided to ask about Courtney. Robert remembered that his partner had always disliked Courtney, and that he considered her a bad influence on his daughter. The two girls ran wild in school, going through numerous boyfriends, partying, and bad-mouthing everyone. John even considered moving to get Amy away from Courtney. Robert had only seen Courtney once, when she and Amy came to the office to see John, and was shocked by how rude Courtney had been to the secretary. Amy may have had a sneering in-your-face way of talking to her father, but it seemed that Courtney was that way with everyone. However, to everyone's surprise, the two girls managed to have a grade-point average last spring just high enough to let them graduate. Robert wondered if the school simply wanted to get rid of Courtney and Amy, but said nothing to John. Then, ten days after graduation, the two girls disappeared, taking nothing with them except backpacks and a large amount of cash that Courtney stole from her mother. They did not tell anyone where they were going, when they would be back, or how to get in touch with them. There was not much the police could do because the two girls were 18. Both Amy's father and Courtney's mother were devastated as the days without news from their daughters dragged out into weeks, and then into months. Amy, in her subdued way of talking that was still a shock to Robert, told the rest of the story. At first the road trip was fun. Living on Courtney's money, the two teenagers spent the whole summer going to beach parties. They hit all the major party spots: Daytona Beach, South Padre Island, Virginia Beach, New Orleans. But towards the end of the summer Amy noticed a change in Courtney. Her friend had started using heroin, was partying less and becoming obsessed with money. She started charging for sex, sometimes 5 times per night. She became ill-tempered and took no interest in anything other than getting money, always more money. Amy at first was curious to see what heroin would be like once she saw Courtney using it. Instead what she got was a cold, dead look from her friend that scared her. "Look, you don't want to go there." There was both fear and resignation in Courtney's voice. Amy quickly learned she was right. In September they drifted towards Buffalo, where one of Courtney's ex-boyfriends lived. They stayed at his place for three weeks, while Courtney stole his credit card numbers and cleaned him out. They took off and then their lives became ugly. In spite of Courtney's looting of her ex-boyfriend's accounts, the two girls were broke. One day Courtney snapped at Amy. "You need to bring in some money. I am doing all the work for both of us." Amy lost her temper and grabbed her friend's arm, jerking up her sleeve. The inside of her arm was a mass of sores and needle tracks. Amy was not about to do anything just to support Courtney's drug habit, but she was afraid to leave her. The two girls drifted around the Great Lakes area until they landed in Detroit. By this time they had the appearance typical of homeless teens. They learned to sleep under bridges, find shelters, beg money. The weather got cold. Amy spent Thanksgiving huddled behind a dumpster, waiting for Courtney to come back. Finally Courtney re-appeared. She stumbled. Her lip was swollen and she had several bruises on her face. Her eyes were glazed over. Amy wondered how well her friend could see. Courtney held out a hamburger and $20. "I'm sorry" Then she lay down. Amy ate the hamburger and looked at her friend, too numb to think about what was happening to her. She got up and walked around to ease the cold. She returned to the dumpster and noticed Courtney in the same position as when she left. She tried to roll her over, but she did not budge. Amy tugged harder. Courtney rolled over, stiff. Her face was gray and her eyes half open. There are certain moments in a person's life in which his or her character is tested. Amy was tested at that moment and her character failed her. She panicked. The only thing she could think of was to get away, anywhere. She grabbed her backpack and ran to the bus station, only a few blocks away. She laid all her money on the counter, and found out it would be enough to get her as far as Chicago. It was only by shear luck that Amy picked Chicago; in her confused state of mind she could have gone anywhere. However, the Chicago bus was leaving immediately and that was what she wanted. It was only later that the memory of Courtney's body in that cold ally would come back to haunt her. Chicago welcomed Amy with the loss of her backpack. She set it down for a moment to look at a phone book for a shelter, and it disappeared in a flash. She managed to stay at a women's shelter for a few days, but then was kicked out for lack of room. She spent the next three days sitting over an air vent for warmth, wondering where she would get something to eat. Finally she decided to slip some food out of a Fast-Mart. The Fast-Mart was aptly named, the clerks jumped on her immediately and reached into her clothes, her underwear, her bra, searching for stolen items. One twisted her arm behind her back and had his arm around her throat while they waited for the police to arrive. Robert handed Amy another glass of juice when she finished her story. As disgusted as he was by the fact that she had simply abandoned her friend's corpse, he was relieved with the rough manner that she was detained by the Fast-Mart clerks. He pondered how he could use their treatment of her to have the case thrown out. Robert began the process of making phone calls to set everything as straight as possible. While Amy ate another small meal, he started out by calling the Detroit Coroner's Office. He asked if they had a Jane Doe that matched Courtney's description who had died about 10 days ago from a heroin overdose. Sure enough, they had a young white female who matched. That was relief, at least Courtney could be returned to her mother for a proper burial. Another withdrawal from his bank account assured Courtney's transfer to a funeral home. Robert was not looking forward to having to face Courtney's mother to return the body, but obviously Amy was not up to it. He then went to work phoning friends to resolve his guest's legal problems and the charges. That night Robert laid out the rules of the apartment. He expected Amy to stay with him until her case was resolved and he got his bail money back. She was not to leave the building unless she had his permission. She was free to eat what she wanted, use his computer, exercise equipment, library, and the living room TV. Furthermore, the apartment had an indoor swimming pool that Robert had exclusive use from 9:30 to 11:00 three days a week. Amy could lock the door during those hours and would not need a swimsuit. To Amy, who had spent the last three nights huddled over an air vent, the amenities that her father's partner offered her seemed like something out of a dream. She was looking forward to living in comfort for a few weeks, even if her host's cold presence made her nervous. At any other time she would have rebelled against the order to not leave the apartment without permission. However, she was in no mood to do so now, certainly not after her terrifying experience in the holding cell. Amy brushed and flossed her teeth for the first time in weeks and crawled into the bed of the guest bedroom. For some reason Robert's cold words "You are not much to look at" burned in her mind. ---------- Amy spent the next four weeks enjoying simple things: good food, a clean bed, Robert's books, the Jacuzzi bathtub, the exercise room, the swimming pool. He seemed to be gone most of the time, only coming back late at night and leaving early in the mornings. Amy's street clothes, now clean, lay un-moved on her dresser during the entire time. She had no desire to put them on, preferring the white terry-cloth robe, or nothing at all when he was not present. She had spent the last three months without taking her clothes off, and felt determined to make up for it now. Amy never missed a chance to enjoy the pool. Usually she just floated on her back, naked, her hair floating out in all directions. Often she lost all track of time in the pool and only got out when she heard the angry buzzing of the doorbell from the neighbor who had the 11:00 to 12:30 time slot. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 01 There was the exercise equipment in Robert's spare room. Slowly at first, Amy started working out. She was dismayed at how weak she had become, but within days pleased as her strength returned. Her body, with rest, exercise, and good food, quickly snapped back into health. There were Robert's books, thousands of them, fiction and non-fiction, on almost any topic imaginable. Amy read a novel or more per day, escaping from her own depressing situation. However, the books slowly made her realize that the world was much more than what she and Courtney had made it out to be, full of opportunities that the two friends themselves had chosen to shut out. It was the books, the silence of the apartment, and the time that Amy had to reflect that created the beginnings of change in her soul and her outlook on life. Amy was glad not to have to face Robert and his cold demeanor during the days. Still, he was a mystery to her. He still seemed to seethe with anger, and made no secret of his disgust that she had abandoned Courtney's body. Still, it was obvious that he was doing everything in his power to help her. The detail that most stuck out was when he knelt on the floor to put disinfectant on her feet. But there were other details. He spent all of the first day and the second constantly preparing small meals for her, and had been right about that. She had consumed a large number of calories and did not get sick. At the end of the first week at Robert's place Amy threw off her robe to look at herself in the bathroom and noticed that her figure already was beginning to fill out and look more normal. Amy shuddered to think how much getting Courtney was going to cost him. He seemed to not give that a second thought, as though paying her funeral expenses was as normal as breathing. By the end of the first week Amy had recovered enough to grieve for Courtney. The last three months completely canceled out the memories of six years of fun and friendship that had preceded. Once Courtney got hooked on heroin there was not much that Amy could have done for her. But she had saved Amy's life by adamantly refusing to let her try the drug. Amy later was grateful for that refusal as she watched heroin slowly destroy and kill her friend. As a result of that experience she would never touch drugs again. She was grateful that Courtney's body would not end up in an unmarked grave or in a medical school dissection room, but that was thanks to Robert, no thanks to her. She was not proud of her behavior. Amy was not sure what to do about her father. At first she had wanted to see him, but now she was so ashamed of herself and her actions she did not see how she would be able to face him. For the first two weeks she was relieved that Robert did not bring up her father again. She would have to face him eventually, but was not ready now. ---------- Amy's wanderings in the empty apartment took her into Robert's room. He had not included anything in his room among the items his guest could use, so she felt like a trespasser whenever she went in. Tricia's presence was still there. There were pictures of her and of her with Robert everywhere, her jewelry boxes were still on the dresser, her clothes still hung in the closet. There was something else that Amy noticed hanging on the wall near the dresser that Tricia had used, a leather strap. Amy looked at the strap in amazement. It was a cruel-looking item, made from thick black leather, about two inches wide and about 16 inches long past the polished wooden handle. The handle, made of some fine hardwood that Amy did not recognize, added an additional five inches or so to the implement. She took the strap off its hook and examined it. She felt the thick leather between her fingers and flexed it in her hands. She held the handle and tried swinging it lightly. It was obvious that any hit with this strap would hurt. Amy felt a sudden urge to try it out. She could not get the strap to make good contact with her bottom, so she tried the fronts of her upper thighs. Even a light blow stung. Amy wondered if Robert had used the strap on Tricia. He must have, since it was hanging next to her dresser. She suddenly visualized Tricia, slacks and underwear around her ankles, bent over her dresser, tears running down her face. Had it been that way? Amy's imagination exchanged herself with Tricia. Now it was Amy who was the one bent over the dresser, except that she was naked, having thrown her robe on the floor. Robert was behind her with the strap in his hand. How many times would he hit her? She was crying and begging for mercy, but at the same time not really wanting any mercy. The strap took hold of Amy's imagination. She carried it to a full-length mirror. She caressed her breasts and thighs with the implement. She turned around and touched it to her bottom. Her bottom seemed to tingle from the anticipation. Amy carried to strap to her own room. She threw herself on her bed and continued to caress herself with the leather. Suddenly she let go of the strap and ran her hands over her body. She rubbed the sensitive areas between her legs, finally making contact with her clitoris. Over and over her mind re-ran the image of herself bent over, her bottom stretched and ready for its torture to begin. She wondered how badly the strap would mark her bottom cheeks. Her sexuality returned in a flash; suddenly she was incredibly wet. She had her first orgasm in over three months. When she finally calmed down, Amy got up and looked at herself in the mirror. She could not understand what had just happened. She had climaxed thinking about being beaten. Why on earth would that excite her? She returned the strap to its hook in Robert's room and shut his door. She went to the bookshelves to look at the section Robert had on sexuality. She noticed several books about spanking, and pulled them out. A couple of the books were illustrated. The pictures totally fascinated Amy. Her excitement mounted again as she turned the pages and carefully studied the drawings and photos. She wanted to be the girl in each of the pictures. Her imagination placed herself in each image; her bottom tormented by a wide range of implements. A few of the pictures had straps similar to the one hanging in Robert's room. Those were the images that excited her the most. Over the next several days, Amy's mind devoured the information in Robert's spanking books. There was some spanking fiction in the collection. She loved the descriptions of the punishments; they seemed to give coherence to the imagined scenes of her own punishment. She found the whole idea of being bent over, her bare bottom waiting for the pain, incredibly erotic. Her sexual fantasies became filled with images of marked bottoms. The fantasy that scared her the most was her hope that someday Robert might strap her... ---------- Christmas came and Robert cooked a turkey. Amy, dressed in the terry-cloth robe, ate a quiet, uncomfortable dinner with him. Finally she insisted on knowing why her father had not contacted her yet. He glared at the young woman. "Fine. You will know. Your father is dead. He died October 10th. He died from diabetes." Robert abruptly got up, pulled a folder out of the room that he used as an office, and handed it to her. It was full of items related to her father's death; obituary notices, funeral notices, medical reports, a copy of his will, and miscellaneous papers from the funeral home. Suddenly his anger at the pain that she had inflicted on his friend and partner by taking off and becoming a street bum, came out. "You weren't there for him, were you? He was only 46 years old. You're not supposed to die from diabetes at age 46. Not nowadays. I was the one who was with him in the hospital. I was the one who watched him die. I was the one who buried him. I was the one who spent days trying to find you, so that you could have his things. And where were you; where were you when he died?" Amy thumbed through the papers, but was too shocked to really look at them. She realized from Robert's face that he was on the verge of telling her more, all of which she was terribly afraid to hear. He said nothing else, but she could feel his temper directed at her as he stood over her. Amy realized with horror the real reason for Robert's anger: he blamed her for John's death. The next day Robert took Amy to her father's grave. She was in her street clothes, now clean, and wearing one of Tricia's coats that he had lent her. She dropped a rose in front of John's tombstone. She still was too shocked to feel anything. She had gone through too much and for now this was simply another piece of bad news. The feeling would come later. Robert looked at Amy as she stood quietly staring at the rose lying in the snow. Whatever anger he felt at her, he realized that he needed to overcome it. Amy needed his help. There is no way that she would get back on her feet without him. ---------- New Year's Eve Robert and Amy spent another evening together. She remembered with infinite sadness last New Year's spent getting drunk with Courtney and about 50 other classmates. Robert remembered celebrating with Tricia and a group of her office friends. Amy noticed a change in Robert. He was more talkative than she had seen him since she came into his apartment, and was actually being nice to her. Just before midnight he pulled out a bottle of champagne and poured a glass for Amy. Lightheartedly he said "Sure at 18 it's illegal, but I'm sure you had plenty of worse things last year." Amy smiled and nodded. They raised their glasses. "We both hit bottom last year. Here's to a better one." ---------- A week later Amy's outward transformation began. She put on her street clothes and stepped outside for only the second time in nearly a month to accompany Robert shopping. The first stop was a trip to the dentist, complete with three fillings. Then came the hairdresser. The hairdresser lifted a strand of Amy's ruined hair with disdain and declared "I can't do anything with this. It's going to have to come off". Amy exited the salon with a tomboy style cut. She did not really like it, but it was professional-looking and improved her appearance dramatically. She no longer looked like a freak with crisp, multi-colored hair. Finally came clothing and shoes. At the mall Robert noticed Amy looking longingly at an outlet of trendy teen clothing. "Don't even think about it." He motioned her to keep moving. He pointed at a store that specialized in women's business outfits. "You're getting your clothes from there." Amy groaned, but she was not the one paying. Robert bought her two outfits. She wore one of the outfits out of the store and stuffed her street clothes in a bag. As they passed by a large mirror on their way out Robert stopped Amy and pointed to her reflection. "Take a good look at yourself. Forget about what you looked like when we came in here. This is who you are now." She was surprised, pleasantly, with how good she looked in her business outfit and short haircut. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 02 Chapter 2 - Robert's Strap After a day of shopping it was a new Amy that sat next to Robert on the way back to his apartment. With new clothes, her hair cut short but neatly, her fingernails cleaned and polished, no one would have recognized the girl beside Robert as the same one who left with him in the morning. Amy felt grateful to her father's partner, and shuddered to think what would have happened to her had he not been there to pick her up from the police station. It was wonderful to ride in a car again as a simple passenger, to sit where it was warm and watch the grime of the street from the safety of her seat. As they rolled down the streets, Amy's thoughts wandered, finally focusing on Robert's strap. She had spent too many nights thinking about how the implement would feel on her, too many nights with her hands between her legs fantasizing about it. She had to know. Finally she blurted out: "Robert, how come there's a strap hanging in your room?" Robert glanced over. "I used it on Tricia while we were still married. We both felt that Tricia's getting the strap every so often did her some good." "You actually punished her with it? For what?" "Tricia was a lot like you. She had a wild side that when let out of control, would wreck her life. In Tricia's case, it was drinking. I don't think you're old enough to remember, but Tricia was an alcoholic. It got so bad, I was thinking about divorcing her. But then one day we made a deal. Every time she drank alcohol, I strapped her. She knew that would be the price of a drink. If she had more than one drink, she got more than one strapping. After a while, Tricia quit drinking." "And you punished her on the bare bottom?" "Of course I punished her on the bare bottom. How else would I punish her?" Amy was quiet for a few minutes, then softly said "I keep having this fantasy, that I was Tricia. I...I wanted you to strap me like you did her. I can't stop thinking about it." Amy's heart jumped into her throat. That just came out! She had not meant to say it! Oh my God! What would Robert think of her? The tension in the car mounted as Amy sat in mortified silence. Finally Robert looked over at her and commented, "That's something for us to discuss when we get home. I suppose some punishment might do you good, given the crap that you've pulled and everything that's happened." Amy felt whirlwind of emotion. She was terribly afraid, but at the same time was intensely aroused. She became wet, and hoped that Robert would not notice. Was he serious? Was he actually thinking about strapping her? True, Amy had fantasized about it endlessly, but now that it might actually happen... Another side of Amy told her that the whole thing was impossible. Of course he would not strap her. How could he? That thought, of nothing happening after all, filled Amy with as much anxiety as the thought of being punished. Robert and Amy arrived back at his apartment and he parked the car in the underground garage. Upon entering the apartment Robert said "Amy, put your stuff away and then we can talk." Amy simply took all of the boxes out the bags and stacked them neatly in the closet. She folded the bags and brought them to the kitchen and then went to the living room were Robert was going over some of his business papers. He looked up at her with a very irritated expression. "A couple of things. First, I want to know what you were doing in my bedroom. I never said you could go in there." "I'm sorry...I was just curious. But I swear I didn't touch anything except the strap." "You touched the strap. Amy, didn't it occur to you that maybe that was something private between Tricia and myself, that maybe you had no right to be in my room, and maybe you had no business touching Tricia's things? Don't you have any respect for anyone? For anything at all?" Amy said nothing, but her face went pale and she looked like she was about to cry. Robert sighed loudly. He wanted to berate her over the violation of privacy, but held his tongue. She had meant no harm, and it was clear she felt guilty enough about it already. He pushed ahead with the second, and much more important question...why. "All right, enough said about that. Now, what's this about you wanting to be punished?" "I really don't know. I guess I did some bad things... It just sort of came out I guess." "You did some bad things. Yeah, I guess you did, didn't you? And you think that somehow a sore butt will fix everything?" "I...don't know. I don't know why I'm thinking these things." "'Thinking these things'...what things?" Robert stood up and walked over to her. "Amy, would you for once, try to help me figure you out? What is it that you want? What is it that you're after? I mean...are you really serious about this business of wanting to be punished?" Amy swallowed hard. This was it, the moment she needed to decide whether to fulfill her fantasy or not. She was terrified of the choice in front of her. She knew that if Robert didn't punish her at that moment, she always would wonder what would have happened if he had. Yet, to be punished! By her father's business partner! How could she want that? Amy shook from the stress of her dilemma. However, she knew what choice she had to make. She forced herself to nod slightly. Robert paused, his own emotions in turmoil at that moment. He was aroused by the thought of punishing this pretty girl, but concerned about those same feelings of arousal. The last thing he wanted was any hint of sex between himself and his dead friend's daughter. What was obvious, however, was that Amy badly wanted to be punished. He wondered if perhaps there was something to her thought about "a sore butt fixing everything". He knew that John Debbs had never punished Amy when she was little. By the time she was older it was too late to discipline her, or so John had thought. Maybe it hadn't been too late. Maybe, in her most secret thoughts, she had wanted to be disciplined all along. Maybe that was her problem. Perhaps...a few sessions with the strap in high school would have kept Amy and Courtney at home, and prevented the entire road trip disaster. Robert was well aware that punishing her now would be a huge gamble and the experience easily could go very wrong. However, it seemed that Amy did truly want to be punished, if for no other reason to find an excuse to change her behavior. He pushed his doubts aside and spoke to her in the most authoritative voice he could muster: "Alright...fine. You'll get your punishment. First, I want you to go to your room and take off all your clothes. I mean everything, including your earrings and watch. Once you've done that you'll go in my room and get the strap. I want you to bring it to me. Once you're back out here I'll tell you what to do next." Amy's heart jumped into her throat. Saying nothing, she turned to go to her room to follow Robert's order to get undressed. The strapping! It was actually going to happen! As her shaking hands struggled with the buttons and zippers of her clothes, Amy realized that she was no longer excited. She was just plain scared. At the same time she also was determined. She had fantasized endlessly about this moment. The fantasy had a grip on her that she couldn't even begin to understand. She felt herself being pulled forward, as though she had little control over her own actions. Robert cleared an oblong table that was up against a wall, and pulled the table into the center of the living room. The table was perfect for a punishment. It was about two feet wide and four feet long, and very strongly built. When he was satisfied that he would have plenty of room to swing, Robert left the table in place and faced the hallway to the bedrooms. Her heart still pounding, Amy, now naked, walked into Robert's room to get the strap. Suddenly she felt very self-conscious and tried to cover herself with her hands as she walked out of Robert's room. To make matters worse, Amy had decided to shave her pubic hair that very morning, which would expose her even more. As she approached with her hand over her crotch Robert gave Amy a look of impatience. "What the hell are you doing?" Amy stared at Robert's feet and shyly held the strap out to Robert. "I guess I am just a bit scared." "Amy, keep in mind you're doing this because you want to. You have every right to go back in your room, get dressed, and drop the whole thing. But if you want to go through with this, you'll do it my way. Now, either you drop your hands and forget about this modesty crap, or you'll go back to your room and get dressed. Which is it?" With every bit of her willpower Amy slowly dropped her hands. Suddenly she straightened up and felt a strange resolve in herself. She would have no secrets. With her hands at her sides, Amy stood straight, waiting for Robert's next order. Robert took a moment to enjoy the view of her attractive body. He began to sweat as arousal hit him full-force. Until this moment he had not truly realized how pretty Amy really was. Finally, he forced himself to stop admiring her. "So, are you ready?" Amy nodded. Robert walked over to the table and placed his hand on it. "Good. Now I want you to bend over the end of this table." Amy walked over and did as she was told. "Now grab hold of the edge in front with your hands, and put your feet on the outside of the table legs in the back." When Amy complied, she felt the cool air of the apartment caress her most intimate areas. She was aware of how exposed she was between her bottom cheeks. With her legs spread and her bottom turned up, her body certainly hid no secrets from Robert now. The sight confronting Robert was one that would have severely tested any man. The girl's lovely bottom was on full display. Her legs were wide apart and her entire backside was turned up. Her anus and vagina were in clear view, beckoning him to unzip his pants and enter her. Robert checked himself, however. He needed to focus. Amy was bent over for discipline, not sex. He forced himself to step over to her left side and begin the strapping on her waiting bottom. Amy heard Robert's faint steps as he positioned himself. He gently tapped the end of the strap on her left bottom cheek, drew it back, and with a loud CRACK laid on the first swat. Instantly a rectangle across the center of Amy's bottom left cheek turned from white to bright pink. Amy jerked and bit her lip. Tears formed in her eyes. She was shocked at how much it hurt. Robert was determined to punish Amy at a very leisurely pace. He wanted to maximize the effect of the swats by spacing them apart every 30 seconds. Waiting between blows allowed Amy to feel each swat separately and appreciate it before receiving the next. The slow pace also gave him the opportunity to enjoy the sight of her slowly reddening bottom. Robert studied the first pink rectangle marking the left side of the girl's bottom. He then walked over to her right side, tapped the strap on her right bottom cheek, and marked it with a sharp back-handed blow. This time Amy let out a noise that was part sob, part grunt. For the third blow, Robert again took up position on Amy's left side. This time he tapped the base of her bottom with the strap, right above her thighs. Oh God, thought Amy. CRACK! This time Amy let out a much louder sob. Robert noticed tears on her face and she had started to cry, but she stayed in position for him. CRACK! Another swat on the left bottom cheek, above the first. Another rectangle turned from white to pink on Amy's left bottom cheek. Amy sobbed again. CRACK! Another back-handed swing on the right bottom cheek. Robert played tennis, and had a vicious backhand, as Amy was learning the hard way. Again Robert moved over to Amy's left side for the next swat across both bottom cheeks. A light tap of the strap, and CRACK! right across the center of Amy's bottom. Amy grabbed the table edge with all her strength and sobbed. With the sixth swat of the strap Robert had established his pattern on Amy: left cheek, right cheek, then a swat across both cheeks. Amy had completely forgotten her earlier embarrassment of being so fully exposed to Robert. Her world became the pain being inflicted on her bottom, pain that intensified with each swat. However, she was determined to see this through. She had promised herself that she would take whatever punishment he chose to give her. CRACK! The seventh swat was harder than any of the others, and caught the tender skin at the inner part of Amy's left cheek. Amy screamed for the first time as she kicked out her left leg and turned slightly. "Stay in position!" Amy quickly straightened herself and returned her foot back to the outside of the table leg. Robert walked over to Amy's right side. He waited for the girl to calm down before giving her the eighth swat. CRACK! A vicious back-hand blow caught the inside of her right bottom-cheek. Amy, instead of screaming again, started sobbing loudly. Her whole body shook with her sobs. This time Robert did not wait, but quickly slashed the strap across both cheeks right in the middle. The young woman continued to sob. Robert stopped to examine his work. Amy's bottom was now almost completely a deep pink, with only a few small areas of white left. Robert decided that he wanted another scream from his subject. She had asked for this and he was not going to let her off. "OK, stick your butt out as much as you can for the next one." Amy managed to spread herself a little more. Amy's efforts to comply gave Robert a complete view of her labia and bottom-hole, framed by thick pink stripes. Robert now sported a furious hard-on under his pants. To see this lovely girl, exposed like this... Robert tapped the strap at the spot where Amy's left bottom check met her thigh. He drew it back. CRACK! Amy screamed and let go of the table. She looked back at Robert through her tears, biting her lip. That was the worst! She could not believe how much it hurt! "Amy! What did I tell you!? Get back down!" She struggled to get back down and find the table edge with her hands. "Prepare yourself. You are getting the same on the other side!." This time there was no warning pat, just a CRACK! and then the pain. Amy screamed again, but managed to stay down. The next swat landed squarely across the upper part of both cheeks. Robert had been concentrating on the lower part of Amy's bottom, but the twelfth swat quickly added color to the upper part of her backside. CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK! Robert concentrated the next six strokes right at the middle of Amy's bottom cheeks. By now all of her bottom was a dark pink, and was starting to swell. In spite of her best efforts, Amy was shaking violently from crying, and her knees were quivering. It took Robert every bit of his willpower to keep himself from taking Amy right then. But he couldn't, he knew that it would wreck her trust in him. Subconsciously he took out his internal conflict in the next three strokes, all delivered to the upper part of Amy's bottom...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK! The final stroke was so hard that Amy shot up. Instinctively her hands reached behind as she sought ease the pain. In an instant she realized what she had done, but could not let go of her bottom. Amy looked at Robert with pleading in her eyes. "Robert..." she sobbed. "So you think that you had enough?" Robert asked. Amy's eyes filled with tears again, but suddenly she violently shook her head no. Robert watched with amazement as the girl again stretched herself over the table. Slowly she spread her legs and placed her feet on the outside of the table legs, and then she returned her hands to the table edge in front. Amy cried quietly as she waited for the rest of her punishment. Robert's heart went out to the poor girl at that moment. Amy made it clear that she would do her best to take any punishment he wanted to give her. She was totally submissive to him, willing to accept his judgment of what he thought was best for her. He suddenly felt even more responsibility for Amy. His earlier arousal was gone now, replaced with something far deeper and far more intense. This punishment would have to continue. Amy had committed both of them to further swats by lying back down on the table. Still, Robert knew by looking at her bottom that the strapping could not go on much longer. Welts were already forming and a too many more swats would risk breaking her skin. Robert decided to give Amy six additional swats and then end her punishment. He took up position behind her left side and tapped her bottom again. CRACK! Amy immediately started sobbing again as the strap hit the already dark area at the base of her left bottom-cheek. CRACK! Another backhanded swat to the lower part of Amy's right bottom cheek resulted in a scream. CRACK! The next swat went across the lower part of both bottom cheeks, precisely over the spot where Robert had laid the first three hits of the punishment. Amy's hands again shot back over her bottom, but she managed to get them back on the table legs before Robert could say anything. CRACK!...CRACK! Two more swats caught the tops of Amy's thighs. CRACK! The final swat went across the middle part of Amy's bottom. "Alright, you can take your hands off the table edge and relax your legs. But I want you to stay bent over the table." Amy buried her face in her hands and after a few minutes managed to quiet her crying. Robert set the strap on the table next to Amy, and examined her bottom. He had done a thorough job on her. Purplish welts punctuated the deep pink color, and there were several blood blisters on both cheeks. However, as Robert looked over the welts and blisters, he was satisfied that he had not broken the skin anywhere her bottom. Robert sat down in the easy chair behind Amy. The sight of the girl still bent over excited him again, and he decided to take a few minutes to enjoy looking at her. Once satisfied, he finally decided to end Amy's punishment. He took her hand to help her stand up. She bit her lip as she rubbed her bottom. Robert left the living room and came back with a glass of water. He put his arm around her bare shoulder and pressed the glass to her lips. She took it with a trembling hand and emptied it immediately. Robert then helped Amy to her feet. She immediately threw her arms around him and started sobbing into his shoulder. Robert said nothing for a few minutes, satisfied to comfort her. She needed to be held, comforted, forgiven. As Amy held on to Robert and her tears began to soak his shirt, he reflected that her healing process could not begin until she was ready to forgive herself. He was satisfied that would indeed happen; she had convinced him when she laid back down on the table for the six final swats. Even now, Robert suspected that Amy's crying was only partly due to the pain in her bottom. He suspected, and hoped, that some of her guilt was being purged as well, through all those tears. Finally Amy's crying subsided. Robert put his arm around her shoulder and walked her back to her room. He pulled back the covers and she lay down on her stomach. With that he covered her up. Amy closed her eyes and Robert saw a look of peace on her face that he had not seen on her before. He noticed a change in her breathing, indicating that she had gone to sleep. Robert turned out Amy's light and left her room. As he put the living room back in order, he reflected that the experience could not have gone better for her. It was obvious that she had the internal strength to overcome her high school behavior and the road-trip disaster. A successful court date, enrollment in college, and some oversight to get her through the first semester were all that she needed. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 03 Chapter 3 - Spring Semester Amy woke up in the middle of the night. The apartment was dark, and at first she was confused as to where she even was. Then she remembered. And the punishment. Had she dreamt that? As she rolled on her back her bottom started throbbing - no, that was no dream. Amy got up and quietly walked towards into the living room. At first she thought about putting on her robe, but then thought no, why bother? She felt a little daring walking out in the living room in the nude with Robert asleep in the next room, but she realized that was silly. He had a thorough look at her during the strapping. Amy had nothing to hide from him now. Besides, he was a deep sleeper, she had noticed. Once he was asleep he rarely woke up until his alarm clock went off, so he was unlikely to come out anyway. Robert kept the apartment temperature slightly lower than Amy did when he was away. The cooler air made her all that much more aware of her nakedness. She opened the living room curtains and took in the night view of the city that had fascinated her since she first started staying here. It gave the young woman time to reflect. Amy's bottom no longer hurt much unless she sat down or pressed up against something. But the sensation was still there, which made her all too aware of the strapping she had received just a few hours ago. Sitting down was a different matter. Amy knew from having rolled on her back in bed that sitting down would be down-right painful. She figured that it would be at least another day before she could sit down normally. The details of her punishment came back to her. She re-ran the entire punishment through her mind. The part that most stuck out the most was how Robert had treated her at the end. He seemed to instinctively know what Amy needed; the glass of water, having his arm around her shoulder, holding her and giving her time to cry without saying anything, staying with her and comforting her when she was in bed. He knew how to be both cruel and kind. That was no contradiction. The kindness that Robert showed Amy after her punishment would have had no meaning had it not been preceded by the intense pain and humiliation of the strapping itself. Even through her pain and crying Amy noticed a total change in Robert's attitude towards her. The coldness that he felt towards her had gone. Although she knew that he had blamed her for her father's death, perhaps now he had forgiven her. Amy felt a strange sexual arousal from the experience she had just endured. She wanted Robert to hold her again. She wanted to be naked in his arms: helpless, submissive, but comforted. She wanted to feel his warmth. Strangest of all, she wanted to know that he would punish her again if her behavior displeased him. She did not specifically want another strapping, but she wanted to know that the possibility of another strapping would always be a part of her relationship with Robert. Amy went to the bathroom and turned on the light. She looked at herself in the mirror from the front at first, studying herself from the front. The sight of her own body aroused Amy even more. She turned around and looked at the reflection of her bottom. It was swollen. Her bottom was no longer a deep pink, but more reddish, punctuated with purple marks. She turned in different directions to look at her bottom from different angles. She bent over and looked at her refection between her legs, in spite of the pain caused by stretching her bottom. She wished that she could be photographed like this. The girl's hands gently caressed the welts on her bottom. She traced the outlines of them with her fingers. Her hands moved to her front, first to her thighs, then to her breasts and stomach. She ran her hands between her legs and lightly touched her clitoris. She leaned back and rested her bottom on the sink counter. Her bottom immediately protested with pain, but Amy wanted to feel that pain. She continued rubbing herself. She was incredibly wet. Her eyes narrowed and her voice squeaked as the orgasm came. Amy was not done. She went back to the living room and pulled a large table book off the coffee table. She returned to her room, and without shutting the door, threw the book on the bed. She wanted the hard surface of the book to press her bottom while she climaxed. She lay on her back; her bottom pressed to the book's hard surface as her fingers worked the insides of her thighs and clitoris over and over. The pain was intense. Amy's sexual arousal was intense. Each orgasm was stronger than the previous one. Amy's labia and clitoris became sore and rubbed raw from so much attention from her hands, but she could not stop. She groaned and squeaked. She lost all track of time. Finally, Amy passed out from sheer exhaustion, just as it was starting to get light outside. She lay on her back, her legs spread, her swollen labia on full display. One of her hands draped across her inner thigh. That is how Robert saw her when he got up, noticed her door open, and peeked in to see if she was all right. He stood dumbfounded at the sight of her, especially her labia and clitoris, which had been rubbed raw. It was not hard for Robert to figure out what she had been doing. To see her spread on the bed... Robert was sweating as he closed the door. Finally he regained his composure. The girl was fine, no doubt about that. Robert pondered the fact that Amy had a large picture book on the bed with her. Surely the pictures had not been what excited her. Then Robert guessed the truth, that Amy had used the book to lie on to intensify the pain on her bottom while she climaxed. Judging by the state of her labia and the surrounding area, that must have been one hell of an orgasm. So, the young woman got off on her strapping...interesting. Robert felt the pull of being drawn into a sexual relationship with John's daughter, but had to resist that temptation. He knew that Amy would submit to having sex with him in a heartbeat, but he also knew that such a relationship would destroy her, and possibly him as well. He needed to maintain a role as Amy's mentor. Sex was out. Robert cleaned up and started breakfast. As he started putting plates on the table for himself and Amy, he heard her soft footsteps on the carpeting. She was in her usual terrycloth robe. What seemed new was the look in her eyes. They seemed to shine with a new radiance, with an intensity that he had not seen before. Still, there was a shyness about her. Amy was not sure how her host would treat her, now that it was daytime; whether he would go back to his cold, business-like manner with her or whether he would treat her like he did the previous night. Robert did not let on that he had seen Amy on her bed. He simply asked, "How are you doing this morning?" "I'm fine. A bit sore still, but fine." They gave each other a look that indicated that everything was forgiven between them. Amy smiled warmly at Robert. He asked her what she wanted on her eggs, and motioned her to come in the kitchen to see the wide variety of possible omelet ingredients she could choose from. Once Amy made her choice, she took the coffee and cream to the table and took a chair. Amy winced as she sat down. Robert wondered if she really was all right. "Amy, I want to check you to make sure you are OK, if you could drop your robe. I am afraid that I might have overdone it last night." Amy immediately stood up, took off her robe and put it on an empty chair. She turned away from Robert and placed her hands on the dining room table. Robert studied his guest's bottom. The welts had turned darker, but she seemed all right. She turned to face him again, one hand on the table behind her, the other at her side. She seemed unaware of the redness remaining between her legs. No modesty now. No...she was making it clear that if he wanted to take her, right there...over the breakfast table...she would gladly give herself over to him. Robert took a deep breath. "That's fine. Sit down." Amy struggled to put the robe back on. The disappointment showed in her face as she slowly sat down again. Robert set Amy's plate in front of her and joined her for breakfast. They ate quietly, struggling to resist their desires and control their fears. ---------- Two days later, in her navy-blue business outfit, Amy accompanied her host and one of his remaining law partners to the city courthouse for a preliminary hearing. The attorney was female, sharp featured and sharp-tongued, almost scary. She has as much warmth as a butcher knife. Amy was glad that she was on her side and not with the DA's office. It was clear the two lawyers knew how to handle the case and what they planned to say to the judge. Robert certainly did have connections in this city, Amy thought, as they breezed past benches full of defendants, family members, and defense attorneys. Towards the back of one of the chambers Amy noticed one of the gang members who had threatened her in the holding cell, and felt a pang of fear. The defendant did not realize that she looked so different now that her one-time nemesis didn't even recognize her. The storeowner dropped the charges. He was quite glad to retreat from the courthouse when it was over. Waving a copy of the store surveillance videotape in her hand while another copy played, Robert's partner pointed out that Amy was groped when she was restrained, and oh, by the way, did the clerks have green cards? No? So, let me get this straight - you hired illegal immigrants who groped a female detainee who was not resisting? Is this the policy of your company? No? Obviously we are dealing with a case of sexual battery and we would like to file a complaint...Your honor, my client... Amy thanked Robert's partner when it was over, but the only response she received was "Stay out of trouble. Next time you won't be so lucky." And with that Amy Debbs' career as a criminal came to an end. "She's never lost a case as long as I have worked with her," said Robert, as they walked back to his car. "In fact, as far as I can remember, she's only had four cases that even went to trial." Amy could believe that. ---------- That night Robert treated Amy to a dinner at one of his favorite restaurants. Their table was next to a plate glass window with a nice view of the city, and Lake Michigan off to the right. The city lights shimmered in the cold night air. In the street far below Amy noticed what looked like a bundle of clothes stagger behind a market basket. That could be me, she thought with a shudder. Again her heart welled up with gratitude for Robert. She wanted so badly to repay him... "That is what we are here to discuss. You can repay me all right. Your father left you his money with me in charge, in case you were ever found. I enrolled you in college and you will need to start next week...Don't look so surprised." Robert stared intently at Amy across the table. He laid out his case. "You certainly can't stay with me. You're more than welcome to come over whenever you want for dinner or to talk, but you need to live somewhere else. You can't earn much of a living on your current education. Your father's house is sold and all your stuff and his is in storage, so what are you going to do...? "You owe it to me to make a success out of yourself. The only way you are going to do that is to study. I don't care what, as long as you are successful. You owe me that. You owe it to your father as well." Amy nodded. She felt worried and relieved at the same time. At least her future was no longer in doubt. She wondered if she could adjust to college so quickly. However, as she shifted in her chair, the soreness in her bottom reminded her that she had been through much worse. She would have to adapt; or else she would feel Robert's strap again. Robert took out a class schedule and handed it to Amy, explaining what she needed to do to fill out her preferences. "Give it some thought and get this back to me tomorrow. Everything else is taken care of." When they got back to Robert's apartment he continued laying out Amy's future, which was to begin next Monday. The young woman stayed dressed in her navy blue suit. In her suit, she was ravishing, Robert thought. She had her hands full of papers and at that moment looked every part the professional woman of the type that he was attracted to. With difficulty he continued. "I set you up in an apartment with the daughter of one of my partners. Her name is Suzanne Foster. Ed (my partner) says that Suzanne is a bit strange, but I talked to her and she seems OK to me. Besides, Ed is strange himself. I had to do all this quickly to get you set up. You will have your own room and the apartment is nice. If you don't get along with Suzanne I can change you later." Amy protested "But, I'd still rather stay with you. Really" "I know you do. We just can't. Later you'll understand why." Worried by Amy's sad expression Robert added "If you can accept this arrangement I will give you a key to my place, and you will be welcome to come over when you want. You just need to have your bed and stuff at your own place." It was with a heavy heart that Amy took off her suit and hung it up. She had fallen in love with Robert and evidently he deeply cared for her, but even now she was beginning to realize that he was right. Still, she wanted to be a part of his life and have him be a part of hers. She wanted to have the feeling that he was guiding and protecting her more than anything else. She was re-assured by his insistence that she was welcome to come over and visit whenever she wanted. At least she could spend time with him. Amy, now in her white robe, the usual state of attire while in Robert's apartment, found him sitting in the living room, lost in thought. She joined him on the sofa and snuggled up to him. He put his arm around her shoulder and she placed her head on his chest. She settled down to enjoy the protective embrace of Robert's arm, and the warmth of his chest against her body. Within a few minutes she fell asleep. Robert slipped out from under Amy and moved her to a lying position. Then he retrieved the blankets and pillow from Amy's bed and covered her up. He looked into her face for a few minutes before finally getting up to go to bed himself. He thought about how much he would miss having her at his place. His desire for her was as strong as ever. ---------- Sunday, the day before Amy needed to start classes and endure the hassle of buying books, Robert took her over to Suzanne's apartment near the university. He asked his passenger to read out directions as they circled about looking for a place to park. Finally they entered a series of condominium-style units and found the one that matched the address on Amy's paper. The area looked quite nice. Amy was nervous about having to circulate with people her own age again, having spent almost all of the last month by herself or with Robert. Left to herself she would have stayed under his protection indefinitely, which would have done neither of them any good. She knew that he was right about getting her in college and forcing her to move ahead with her life. Still it would be difficult. At Suzanne's door they were greeted by a young woman in a simple warm ankle-length skirt and jacket. She was dressed warmly because she expected to have to go outside to help Amy with her suitcases, but Amy did not have much. Her things were still in storage and it would be next week before Robert could have them delivered. Suzanne, in spite of her modern clothing, had a look about her that made her seem from another era. Her long hair was done up around her head, making her look like one of the women in a Victorian painting that Robert had at his place. Amy's new roommate had a determined look about her, the expression of a person who knows what she wants from life. She had a voice that was soft, but which Amy would quickly learn, had a commanding quality to it. Her dark eyes had a sad intensity about them. Even under her skirt, Amy could tell that Suzanne's figure was not what would be considered ideal by late 20th Century standards; she had small breasts and wide hips. However, there was a sexiness about her that Robert picked up on immediately and that even Amy could perceive. Suzanne's apartment was neat to a fault. She had expensive furniture, which gave her living room a rich warm feel to it. There were large photographs on the walls everywhere, all taken by Suzanne. Each picture was a landscape, portrait, or a figure study. Each picture made a powerful statement of its subject. The thought of living with the creator of the pictures excited Amy. Photography had always fascinated her, and it was clear that her new roommate knew how to take a good picture. She was intimidated by the neatness of Suzanne's apartment however, not having had much discipline in her past with having to keep her room neat. Robert drove Amy and Suzanne around in his car, touring the campus area for the benefit of Amy. Suzanne revealed a lot about herself in the course of the conversation and her description of different places that Amy would need to know about to function in school. She was a double major in photography and physical therapy. She was realistic about her chances of ever being able to earn an adequate living off photography, so it was from physical therapy that she would receive her paycheck. She enjoyed giving massages, had a massage table in the apartment, and already had some customers. The love of her life was photography, however. There was nothing more that she enjoyed more than doing a figure study, drawing the subject's personality out through the portrayal of the body in her photos. In spite of her lack of confidence in being able to earn a living off taking pictures, Suzanne's work had been featured in several art shows and she had several on-going contracts with galleries. Her name was just beginning to spread among people who wanted quality pictures. What struck Amy and Robert was Suzanne's self confidence in what she wanted from life. Amy, who had been adrift ever since she had been in middle-school, never worried about anything except partying and dating, was impressed by Suzanne. She was only a few years older than Amy, but she had laid out a personal dream, a realistic road map to achieve that dream, and most importantly, a realistic back-up plan should her dream fail her. It was not the dream that her father approved of, which had led him to tell Robert that Suzanne was strange, but it was better by far than that of most people seriously interested in the arts. When they returned to the apartment, Suzanne showed Amy and Robert the three bedrooms. There was the room that Amy would have, the room that Suzanne slept in, which was the smallest of the three, and the largest bedroom, which had the massage table and some studio and darkroom equipment in it. It was clear from the arrangement where Suzanne's priorities were. After forcing his partner's daughter to assure him that she did not need anything else, Robert left. It was time for him to drive back across the city to his own place, his job, and his memories of Tricia. Amy now had started with her new life. Amy had learned a lot about Suzanne, but had not revealed much about herself so far. That changed when Amy and Suzanne went into the kitchen for Suzanne to show where all the kitchen supplies were kept. They sat down in the kitchen. Amy saw in Suzanne a person her own age she could trust. In great detail Amy told Suzanne about her high school years with Courtney, the road trip, and how Robert picked her up from jail. She told Suzanne about the beach parties, raves, ecstasy trips, nights of drunken casual sex, and Courtney's decline. She told Suzanne about her burden of guilt over the results of the trip, Courtney's death behind the dumpster, and her own flight to Chicago. She described being arrested, the clerk's arm around her neck, the strange impression that the smell of sweat and strong cologne from the clerks left on her as they reached under her clothing. She described Robert's efforts to retrieve her from the abyss. She described her father's death, the visit to the cemetery, and the pre-trial hearing. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 03 Suzanne listened intently, studying Amy's face. The girl's past showed in her eyes. Her eyes had a haunting expression in them, if as a photographer, one knew how to look for it. Suzanne asked Amy if she wanted to see her studio and portfolio. As she leafed through Suzanne's portraits she realized that the ones on the walls were not any better than the ones in the folders. Suzanne consistently took powerful pictures. Amy was curious to see what she would look like from behind Suzanne's lens. "Could you take a picture of me? I haven't had my picture taken since graduation." Suzanne's photographer's eye scanned Amy's figure. She was pleased that her new roommate was so attractive. Amy had an innocent adolescent look about her that would make her an excellent photo subject. Suzanne pulled out one of her cameras. She checked the film and lighting. She gently adjusted the lens. She took several face shots, then asked Amy to turn around. "Now turn part way and look back at me." Amy did as directed. Her sad eyes looked into Suzanne's camera. That's the shot, thought Suzanne. It was Amy's first portrait by Suzanne. ---------- Amy found that university life was not as hard as she feared. For the most part the freshman-level classes were fairly easy, as long as she attended class every day. That was not hard to do with Suzanne looking over her shoulder. Suzanne imposed self-discipline on Amy. She quickly learned not to leave dishes in the kitchen, not to leave her clothes on the floor, not to leave toothpaste in the bathroom sink, to put everything away as soon as she was done with it. Amy was free to use anything that belonged to Suzanne, but God forbid that she not put it back when she was finished. Suzanne knew Amy's schedule and made sure she was out the door on time to make her classes. There was no sleeping in. Amy avoided the party circuit. She had experienced enough raves, beer bongs, concerts and one night encounters last summer to satisfy herself for a while. That part of her life was behind her. Instead she tagged along with Suzanne on photo shoots, helping her with the photo equipment and learning how to use it. Suzanne took her all over Chicago and nearby cities. Amy learned to appreciate the beauty of winter life: snow fields under the full moon, cold winter sunrises, a haunting pre-dawn skyline, forests covered with ice crystals. Amy was fascinated by the haunting over-the-shoulder portrait that Suzanne had taken of her. Suzanne had captured her personality in that picture. Amy remembered from her anthropology class her professor mentioning the belief held by some cultures that photography could capture a person's soul. Looking at her own portrait, Amy could believe it. Amy soon became Suzanne's main figure model. Amy had started to wonder what she could do for spending money when Suzanne offered her a job as her model. Knowing that Amy could use the money, Suzanne offered to split the proceeds from her photos 50-50. Amy spent endless hours in front of Suzanne's cameras, inside, outside, clothed, nude. She began to see herself in some of Chicago's better photo galleries. The money from the pictures was erratic, but slightly more than she could earn working at a bookstore or restaurant. The agreement had a side condition for Amy. She had to get in better shape. As the winter dragged into spring, Amy spent increasing hours at the gym, toning her body. Before each photo shoot Suzanne massaged her on her table to relax her. Physically Amy felt better than she had ever felt in her life. ---------- At the end of February Amy decided to stay with Robert over the weekend. After making sure that Suzanne had no photo shoots planned for the next couple of days, Amy asked her roommate to drive her over to Robert's apartment. Suzanne, in her typical take-charge manner, forced Amy to fill her backpack with textbooks before leaving. "If you're going over there for the whole weekend, you'll need to study." Amy felt the rush of anticipation. Amy knew that Robert liked women in business outfits and was wearing one of her most recent purchases when she entered his place. At that point in her life she still had a crush on him. Robert decided to take Amy out to dinner first and find out about her latest adventures in college. Robert was not too sure that he liked the idea of Amy being a model, but at least she was not trying to be a fashion model or a pin-up. Suzanne took serious pictures. Amy gave a folder of large prints to Robert, including a copy of the over-the-shoulder portrait. He was impressed. "This one I want to frame. Maybe there's something to Suzanne's photography after all." Robert was very pleased by the influence Suzanne was having on Amy's outlook on life. The girl seemed more focused. Her travels with the photographer had become an important part of her education. Amy seemed more knowledgeable about life in general. She had the ability to appreciate beauty, in nature and in herself. Robert was pleased that Suzanne prodded Amy whenever she got lazy about her studies. When they got back, Robert was surprised to see Amy carefully hang up her coat and outfit after taking them off. Dressed in her usual white robe, she carefully dropped the rest of her clothing in Robert's washer. Two months of being snapped at by Suzanne had conditioned her about taking care of her clothes. The next morning Robert got up and had a surprise. Amy, still in her robe, was sitting at the dining room table, taking notes from one of her course textbooks. She already had made coffee and had partially prepared breakfast for both of them. Amy had indeed changed in the short time since that fateful morning in the police station. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 04 Chapter 4 - Modeling for Suzanne Spring Break came and went. The week leading up to Spring Break was particularly hard for Amy. The mention of the party spots that Amy and Courtney had been to last year forced Amy to remember the "better" half of her road trip. As the memories of the different party spots popped up in her mind, she began to realize that even at the beginning there were indications that the whole adventure with Courtney was going to end in disaster. The sight of drunken "college chicks" on the video channels touting Spring Break forced Amy to avoid the Student Center restaurants. While drinking coffee between classes the Monday before Spring Break, she happened to see one video clip showing a group of girls on the shoulders of some fraternity guys in Daytona Beach, swinging their bikini tops. The girls were censored with that electronic fuzz over their chests, of course. The clip included a girl who looked identical to Courtney. In fact, it probably was Courtney, since Amy thought she recognized some of the guys. She started having flashbacks. Suddenly she was behind the dumpster, looking into Courtney's face for the last time. Amy could not go to her next class. She ran all the way home; no small feat given that it was nearly a mile from the university. She burst into the apartment, where Suzanne was just about to go out. She rushed passed her astonished roommate and threw up in the kitchen sink. Suzanne ran to the kitchen to comfort her. For the first time in two years Suzanne missed a class, as she spent hours cradling her roommate in her arms. ---------- Amy spent Spring Break with Suzanne. They traveled south to an isolated forest location that Suzanne previously had used for photo shoots. Amy felt the thrill of spending hours outdoors in the nude, as Suzanne shot over 40 rolls of both color and black & white film in four days. Amy walked in the shade, walked in the sun, sat with her feet in a cold stream, smiled, looked serious. Sometimes Suzanne clearly told her subject what she wanted her to do. Sometimes she let Amy wander around with no direction at all, letting her do what she wanted and taking pictures spontaneously. Sometimes Suzanne backed away to shoot her with a telephoto lens, allowing Amy to forget the immediate presence of the camera. On the last day Suzanne left her model alone for two hours to shoot her with the telephoto lens. It was a strange sensation, spending a full two hours walking down a forest path in the nude by herself, completely cut off from her clothing and every other trapping of civilization. The feel of the sun and breeze on her body thrilled her. Amy completely forgot about the camera, which was what the photographer wanted. Upon returning to their apartment Suzanne taught Amy how to develop pictures. They spent the next three days in the apartment's darkroom. Developed pictures from the forest session started to stack up. Amy thought that over half of the pictures were great, but Suzanne's critical eye picked out the final 30 prints that she would try to sell. An additional handful were separated to put in her portfolio. She tried to explain the difference between a truly great picture and a mediocre one, in technical terms that Amy only half understood. Over the next several weeks it became evident that Suzanne knew what she was doing in selecting the pictures. She found herself digging through the rejected photos for others to offer clients after the first batch sold. The income from the sales was better than either the photographer or her model expected. Amy suddenly found that she had enough money to pay her tuition and rent through the summer, allowing her to tell Robert to leave her father's money in the trust. Several of the pictures from the Spring Break photo shoot later appeared in a national photo magazine. By the summer it was clear to both roommates that the forest photos were a turning point in Suzanne's career. ---------- At the end of April Suzanne landed a contract with a publisher who was putting out a series exercise books, featuring people working out in the nude. There were going to be a total of 10 books altogether, each focusing on a different photographer and a different model. Suzanne was responsible for taking all the pictures for one book out of the series. As Suzanne discussed the contract with the publisher, it became evident that the he was hoping for the same model that she had used in the forest pictures. That's easy enough, replied Suzanne, she's my roommate. After showing the contracts to Robert to make sure she understood them, Suzanne presented the job to Amy. She was excited. The photographer drove home the point the session would be a major undertaking. "We're not talking about you just strolling around in the woods. This is going to take real effort on your part. You might hate me by the time we finish." Suzanne was genuinely worried. She had to do a good job. She had to have a model who understood what was needed, who would work day after day and patiently allow over a thousand pictures to be taken only to have about 100 or so end up in the book. If Amy was not up to the task, it would wreck their friendship and possibly Suzanne's future as a photographer. The university gym had reduced hours as soon as finals ended, opening up the opportunity for Suzanne to use it as a setting for the photo shoot. The art department chairman arranged for Suzanne to have after-hours access to the workout rooms, squash courts, and indoor pool until the end of June. He handed his student a master key. Suzanne thanked her chairman and immediately headed over to the gym to check the lighting. That night Suzanne and her model went over to the gym for the first time. Amy left her clothes in the locker room. Suzanne stayed dressed because she needed to carry her photography supplies around in her pockets. Suzanne explained that Amy would actually be working out. "You're not just posing. Your actual daily workouts will be during our after-hours sessions." The experience of entering the empty gym left a strange impression on Amy, being alone in a place usually full of people, being nude in a place she normally would have to be dressed. Since Amy already had worked out that day, Suzanne had to content herself with some shots of her model in the pool and the sauna. She did take some experimental shots of Amy in the workout rooms, just to check the lighting. Suzanne was not satisfied with the lighting at all. She would have to bring some of her own, which would complicate each night's session. Amy picked up on her roommate's anxiety. Each night Amy and Suzanne entered the empty gym. Amy stripped and went through her routine in the nude. On Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays she did upper body, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays she did lower body. She finished in the pool. The pool was her favorite part. It was wonderful to be able to swim in the nude again. Suzanne's camera clicked continuously as Amy sweat on the machines and weights. Her camera clicked as Amy splashed in the pool. Her camera clicked on the racquetball court and the gymnastics room. Trouble erupted between Amy and Suzanne during the third week of shooting. After a while it seemed to Amy that Suzanne was taking the same pictures over and over. She did not see the point of taking any more and became irritated with Suzanne's constant tinkering with the lighting. She wanted to spend the hot summer evenings outside, not working out. Suzanne was becoming increasingly convinced that Amy was not putting all of her effort into the workouts. It showed in the pictures. Her muscles were not tensed. Her face looked too relaxed. She was not sweating enough. Suzanne shook her head in frustration as she slapped the latest batch of developed prints on her desk. These weren't going to work. The fight came Thursday night, when a group of classmates from one of Amy's summer classes decided to see a movie. She left a message on the answering machine telling Suzanne that she would skip tonight's workout to go out with the others. The tone of the message made clear to Suzanne that Amy's enthusiasm was gone. As soon as Amy came through the door Suzanne confronted her. It was not the movie, she explained, it was her over-all attitude. Amy rolled her eyes: "Look, you've taken the same stupid pictures of me over and over. How many shots of me doing leg presses do you need? Select your fucking photos already and send them in!" Suzanne tried to explain what she needed and that Amy was not giving it to her. Amy rolled her eyes a second time. "Then get a different model! I'm sick of this shit!" Panic swept though Suzanne. It was too late to get another model. Amy needed to be motivated. Suzanne remembered the story of the strapping that Robert had given her. It seemed that they both agreed that it helped her pull herself together. Suzanne decided to try discipline to motivate her model. The next morning Suzanne surprised her step-mother by dropping over at her father's house. The photographer explained that she needed the paddle that her father had used on her when she was still in middle-school. "I'll see if I can find it." Suzanne watched while her step-mother rummaged through the drawers of the den. Finally she found it at the bottom of a drawer in a cabinet. She passed it over. "What do you need it for anyway?" Suzanne explained about Amy and the photo shoot. Then she studied at the paddle in her hands. It brought back a lot of unpleasant memories. She had not seen it since she was about 14. The implement was 18 inches long, about 4 inches wide, and about a quarter of an inch thick. It was strange to hold the paddle as an adult that had tormented her so much as a young teenager. Suzanne remembered that it had a vicious sting to it, but did not bruise the skin very much. She remembered that the marks from the paddle never lasted more than a day or two. Suzanne remembered the evenings bent over her father's desk, her jeans around her knees, punished for almost anything that displeased him. She pushed her past out of her thoughts and lightly slapped the palm of her hand. Amy, you're gonna get it, thought Suzanne to herself. ---------- That night in the gym Suzanne had the paddle packed in her photo bag. She planned not to use it if her model's attitude changed. However, that was not likely, given the unpleasantness from the previous evening. Suzanne was right. Amy was sullen and uncooperative from the beginning. She continuously rolled her eyes when Suzanne told her to do anything. Finally the photographer picked up her camera bag and a small workout bench. "Amy, I need you to come with me." Suzanne had nothing to say to Amy. She had explained everything last night. Amy had not listened. Suzanne's patience was exhausted. Amy followed Suzanne into a small spare workout room that currently was empty. Suzanne locked the door and set the bench in the middle of the floor. She set the camera bag in a corner, unzipped it, and pulled out the paddle. She turned to face her roommate. Seeing Suzanne with the paddle in her hand shocked Amy so much that for a moment she could not speak. Suzanne was pleased to see her friend's frightened expression. "Amy, last night I explained to you how important this photo shoot is to me." Suzanne began quietly. "I explained that what I needed from you was what you promised from the beginning, 100% effort on your part, to make the photos convincing. You wanted to do this, even after I explained to you what it would entail. You told me that it would thrill you to be the model of the shoot that would launch my career." This time Amy said nothing. Suzanne had told her all this last night, but she did not have a paddle in her hand while saying it. Suzanne continued with a calm cold voice that frightened her roommate. "I am giving you two choices tonight. Either you can get dressed and walk out of here, or you can bend over that bench. If you walk out of here I expect you to have your things out of the apartment by this time tomorrow night. You can take the pictures that we have done so far out of my work-room. I will have no use for them. I won't come back until you and your things are gone. I'll send a check for the rest of your rent for this month to Robert's address. I might or might not be able to get another model and try to re-do the shoot in time. However, that won't be your problem." "If you bend over that bench, we'll start the shooting all over, from the very beginning, on Monday. We only have four weeks left, which isn't much time. The paddle will stay in my camera bag until we're done." Amy opened her mouth to try to convince Suzanne she would try harder, that she was sorry. Suzanne's cold voice interrupted her before she could speak. "Amy, don't bother to say anything. Either go to the door or go to the bench. Those are your choices." Amy stood silent. She now realized that she was to blame for this. She had placed Suzanne into a desperate situation by not giving her what she needed for the photo shoot. This, her first book, was Suzanne's big chance. A book of lackluster photos would ruin her prospects for future contracts. Amy knew that Suzanne was such a perfectionist that she would risk a breach of contract suit before turning in mediocre photos. Amy just wished that she had taken her friend more seriously the previous night. Amy walked over to the bench. With sad eyes she looked over her shoulder, waiting for her next instructions. "Put your hands on the bench, and put your feet about shoulder-width apart...Now, arch your back a bit so your butt sticks out." Once in position, Amy bit her lip. She was nervous about the impending punishment, but more than anything else, sad and ashamed that she had let Suzanne down. She would not object to being punished; she had brought this upon herself. Suzanne studied the paddle in her hand. She glanced at Amy's waiting bottom. She remembered this paddle's role in her own life, slightly less than 10 years before. She remembered the nights bent over her father's desk. She remembered her father's long lectures while she waited with her pants down. She remembered her step-brother standing in the door of the den, smirking at her, whenever her stepmother did not chase him upstairs. She remembered the sharp sting. She remembered her step-mother, of all people, trying to comfort her afterwards in the kitchen. Suzanne felt bad about having to punish Amy. There was something about her roommate that invited a feeling of wanting to protect her. Inwardly Suzanne was grateful that Amy had not taken off. Still, she had to go through with this. Amy had assured her that she would put all of her effort into the pictures. Instead she had wasted three weeks out of the seven that Suzanne would have access to the gym. Her attitude, especially during the last two nights, threatened to wreck the entire project. Amy seemed not to realize that there was a lot at stake for her as well; Suzanne had offered her 50% of her net income from the book. Suzanne placed the paddle against both cheeks of Amy's bottom. She tapped her quivering target gently and pulled the paddle back. POP! Amy's bottom jiggled. Both cheeks turned a light pink. POP! The pink darkened slightly. POP!...POP!...POP!...POP!...POP!... Amy's bottom turned slightly darker with each swat. Amy stayed quiet at the beginning. The paddle had a sharp sting to it, somewhat lighter than Robert's strap. However, Amy's eyes quickly filled with tears, more from the humiliation of being paddled by her friend than from the actual pain. Suzanne was not counting the swats. She was not as experienced with discipline as was Robert. All she had to go on was the memory of her own punishments. Suzanne suddenly realized that she needed to time the swats and spread them out. She decided to hit Amy on alternate cheeks. POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... Amy's bottom was now a deep pink. Suddenly Amy began to cry quietly. After about 20 additional swats it became harder for Suzanne to continue. She hated doing this to her friend. She decided to give Amy 10 final swats and then stop. POP!...POP!...POP!...POP!...POP!...POP!... Amy started to cry louder. The pain in her bottom started to make it harder to stay in position. She struggled to keep her bottom out. Her knees began to shake. Suzanne decided to lay the final four swats across both bottom cheeks. POP!... Amy sobbed loudly. POP!... Suddenly she twisted out of position, but before Suzanne could say anything, struggled to get her hands back on the bench and her feet spread. POP!...POP!... Amy squealed loudly at each of the last two swats. Suzanne stopped. Amy's bottom was a deep pink. Her bottom cheeks were swollen, with faint traces of purple. The punishment had not been all that severe, however; her bottom would be fully recovered by Monday. The effect of the paddling was more psychological than physical. "You can get up. I'm done." Suzanne had tears in her own eyes. She had not realized how tough this would be on herself. Amy stood up. Even through her tears she noticed Suzanne's sad expression. She hugged Suzanne and cried into her shoulder. The coldness had gone out of her soul. She hugged her crying roommate hard. ---------- Amy's physical fitness improved dramatically over the next four weeks. Motivated by the shock of having been paddled by Suzanne, and by the knowledge that the paddle remained in the camera bag, Amy pushed herself hard during her workouts. Her strength increased as a result of the training, her muscles became more toned. Sweat poured down her body as Amy did her routine. By the end of June Amy could do 10 pull-ups. She could bench press her own weight. She could do sit-ups almost non-stop. By the end of the seven weeks Amy actually regretted the impending end of the photo shoot and of the opportunity to work out in the nude. Suzanne was pleased as she examined the pictures from the final week of shooting. Amy's muscles were visible in all the pictures, her nude body glistening with sweat, her face set with a grim, determined expression. The last picture of the last day taken of Amy was a portrait in the sauna. The only thing Amy was wearing was a wet headband. She was exhausted and sweat poured down her face and chest. Amy's eyes, staring straight at the camera, had the same haunting expression as Suzanne's first portrait of Amy back in January. Amy and Suzanne both realized the quality of the picture as soon as they pulled it out of the darkroom. The shot turned out to be even more successful than either could have imagined; the publisher chose it as the theme portrait for the entire series. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 05 Chapter 5 - The First Summer Amy's time throughout the rest of the summer was divided between her classes and Suzanne' photo sessions. Suzanne took Amy all over the Mid-west for photo shoots on weekends and whenever she had a break in her schedule during the week. They hit all of the Great Lakes, and traveled as far as Minnesota to the west and Pennsylvania to the east. Amy saw a huge variety of natural locations during the trips and was amazed at Suzanne's knowledge of the region. There were always side trips to historical locations, and of course, to art museums and galleries. The summer trips opened the world up to Amy in a way she could never have imagined the year before. It was during the trips in July and August that Amy began to realize how good a friend Suzanne really was. For the first time in her life Amy had found a person she could trust. Unlike Courtney, it would never cross Suzanne's mind to have Amy do something that would risk injury or embarrassment. She would never do anything to exploit Amy for her own pleasure or entertainment. She found it a relief to have a friend who would never dare her to do something just for fun. Amy knew that Suzanne was genuinely concerned about her well-being. In many ways Suzanne was strict with Amy, but always in ways that benefited her. Amy did well in her classes because of Suzanne. She was in excellent physical shape because of Suzanne. Her finances were in order because of Suzanne. She was neat and well organized because of Suzanne. Amy's character was changing. No longer did she feel that she was out of control and one step away from being back on the street. Suzanne only turned tyrant during a photo shoot. Even as Suzanne's harsh voice snapped at her from behind her camera, Amy realized it was only because her friend knew what was needed for the photos to be successful. Modeling for Suzanne had become Amy's job, and Suzanne expected top performance. However, as soon as the camera went back into its bag, the Suzanne that Amy loved and trusted was always there for her. Amy usually enjoyed her time with Suzanne during the modeling sessions. Increasingly she enjoyed the thrill of the air and sun on her body when outdoors, the cool breeze blowing between her legs and on her bottom. It thrilled her to be naked, taking orders, and submitting to her friend's commands. Amy loved the feel of Suzanne's self-assuredness during the shoots. Afterwards it thrilled Amy to see herself in galleries and photo magazines. Towards the end of the summer Suzanne took a picture of Amy kneeling on a white surface in a studio, wearing a gardening hat and holding a huge bouquet of flowers in front of her. From the angle of the picture it was hard to tell whether Amy was naked or not. This picture became the theme image for a fall gardening festival and appeared in newspapers all over Chicago. So was the pretty model behind the bouquet naked? Only Amy and Suzanne knew for sure. After several months Amy became as proficient in working with Suzanne's lab equipment as Suzanne herself. Amy's help freed Suzanne from many of the more mundane tasks of her profession. Amy became confident in the darkroom. By the end of the summer she easily could have taken a job at a photo lab. When Amy was not modeling for Suzanne, for example when Suzanne was taking landscape pictures, Amy was there with the cameras, cleaning them, changing lenses and film, taking them out of their cases and putting them away as needed. Suzanne came to rely on Amy as her assistant. Amy felt a deep sense of satisfaction knowing that she had become an important help in Suzanne's life and career, and that her friend relied on her. Suzanne was as interested in traveling and showing things to Amy as much as she was in taking pictures of her. After a while Amy suspected that Suzanne partly was using the summer photo shoots as an excuse to take trips with a close traveling companion. It dawned on Amy that in reality Suzanne was rather lonely, especially following her last break-up during the sports book photo shoot. Amy did not complain. She did not want to sit at home during the summer. Nor was there any way that Amy was ready to take on another relationship with a boyfriend at that point in her life. She needed to find direction own life first, to determine her own needs before having to worry about meeting someone else's. Suzanne and Amy never lacked for topics to discuss during their trips, given that their life experiences had been so different up until the time they started living together. Each came from a world so remote to the other that under any other circumstances they would never have become friends. Just a year ago Amy would have dismissed Suzanne as an art nerd, and Suzanne would have seen nothing but a shallow party girl in Amy. However, they had entered each other's lives in such a way that they could take an interest in each other. Whenever one of them talked about herself and her past, the other always learned something new, not about just her friend, but about life in general. During their travels it was inevitable that Suzanne and Amy would talk about their relationships with guys. Neither had much experience with stable relationships, but for totally different reasons. ---------- Suzanne's reasons for not having had a stable relationship differed now than they did when she was in high school. In high school she had largely kept to herself due to problems she was having at home. She hinted to Amy that she had serious problems with her father while in school, but did not tell her what those problems had been. She did tell Amy that the few times she dated in high school she had gone to great lengths to not let her father know about it. Suzanne had another problem in high school that kept her alone. Her personality was too serious for most of her classmates to be interested in her. At an early age she became interested in photography. As Amy was well aware from her numerous trips with her friend and the countless hours spent in the photo lab, pointing the camera was only a small part of being a photographer. Suzanne took her work as the high school year photographer way too seriously. The commitment that Suzanne's photos demanded prevented her from doing much else during her free time. The result of Suzanne's dedication was a yearbook that received commendations for three years. However, the other result was that everyone thought of Suzanne as "the school photographer" instead of thinking of Suzanne as a human being with emotional needs and a desire for companionship. Suzanne's solitude fed upon itself. Her pursuits were quiet ones. She listened to instrumental music and became hooked on New Age and classical. She could not stand the rap and heavy metal that her classmates enjoyed. Sports, cheerleading, and other school activities did not interest her, unless there was an opportunity to take pictures. She retreated into her studies, invariably doing well in all her classes and being liked by her teachers. She never caused any problems in school, never raised her voice, never drank or smoked. The only movies she was interested in were foreign ones. She turned her nose up at the Hollywood pop culture that so captivated everyone else her age. In high school Suzanne only had one serious boyfriend, during the second half of her junior year. He was a member of the marching band, and shared Suzanne's interest in music. He did not find it strange that Suzanne did not want her father to know about him, because he did not get along with his parents either. For the first time in her life Suzanne was able to open up to another person. Suzanne's brief interlude of happiness only lasted about 5 months. Her boyfriend was a senior. He graduated, and not knowing what to do with his life, went in the Army. He chose a specialty that required a lengthy stint of hard training in Ft Benning, Georgia, following completion of basic training. After six months of training his unit was mobilized, and he departed immediately overseas. Suzanne did not see him after that. Suzanne spent her entire senior year writing him and waiting for him to come back. He never did. Right after Suzanne graduated from high school, she learned that he had been killed overseas in a training accident. In spite of the loss, Suzanne moved on in her life. She already had endured many unpleasant experiences and her boyfriend's death was just one more. Suzanne's time in college was not much happier as far as personal relationships were concerned. She entered the university thinking that, being with other art majors, she would have an easy time finding someone who shared her interests. Most certainly she did, mixing with other students who also, for the most part, had not fit in their high schools. What Suzanne had not anticipated was how self-centered most of her art classmates were. Suzanne quickly became sick of her peers who thought they were the next Van Gogh or the next Mapplethorpe, when it was obvious their talent was mediocre at best. If there was one thing Suzanne could not stand, it was a person on an ego trip. Suzanne's first boyfriend in college gave her a rude shock. A few weeks after they started going out he started asking her for loans. Suzanne had no money herself and her boyfriend knew that. Still, he insisted and finally she gave him what little she had to live on that week. Within days he started demanding more. Suzanne had nothing more to give him. She was wondering herself where she would get enough to pay her food for the rest of the week. She lost her temper and broke off the relationship. For several months afterwards her ex-boyfriend stalked her, until finally she obtained a restraining order. Unlike Amy, Suzanne was the sort of person who quickly learned from her mistakes. She learned to quickly size up potential partners, looking for signs of financial dependency, unrealistic expectations from life, and abusive personalities. She learned, the hard way, that finding a reliable partner in the art department would be much more difficult than she had anticipated upon entering college. ---------- Amy's reason for never having a stable relationship came down to a single word, Courtney. At this point in her life Amy still adamantly defended Courtney. However, Suzanne picked up enough hints in her conversations with Amy to indicate that Amy was starting to recognize some of Courtney's faults. Suzanne did not like Courtney from Amy's description of her. However, Suzanne said nothing to Amy about her opinions about Courtney, wanting to give Amy time to question her past at her own pace. Amy was just beginning to realize that perhaps Courtney had not been such a great influence in her life. She was not ready to admit that out loud, not to Suzanne or to anyone else. Deep down inside Amy realized that Courtney had bullied her mercilessly in school through peer pressure and by convincing Amy that only what Courtney approved of could be considered "cool". Amy began to realize that there had been many lost opportunities during her high school years due to Courtney's influence over her. This was especially true when it came to boyfriends. It was true with everything else in Amy's life as well, her classes, her relationship with her father, even her health. Amy met Courtney in middle school the year that her mother died from cancer. Amy needed someone to look up to at the time and saw that in her classmate. Courtney seemed so self-confident, so arrogant to the guys, so sure that she knew how to be cool. Courtney had a comeback for anything anyone said to her. Amy loved the fact that no one could insult Courtney without receiving a sarcastic response that made everyone listening squirm. Some of Amy's teachers seemed almost afraid of her new friend. Amy stuck with Courtney, first out of insecurity, then out of not knowing anything else. Amy learned to talk with the same sarcastic in-your-face manner as Courtney, learned to use the same come-backs whenever anyone tried to insult her, learned to dress to draw guys' attention to her adolescent body. Courtney loved living on the edge. She was what some people would call an adrenaline junkie, long before she became a junkie of much more dangerous substances. Courtney drank heavily. Later in high school she loved drag-racing. She tried anything at parties being passed around. Any new substance she immediately pressed on Amy, which was part of the reason why at first Amy was so surprised that Courtney would not let her try heroin. Throughout high school the last thing Courtney wanted was calm in her life. She was impatient and became bored very easily. She was repelled by safe, stable guys. She gravitated towards the ones who led to trouble and saw to it that Amy did the same. As her 18th birthday approached, Courtney realized that the final restraint on her having fun as she defined it was about to come to an end. Upon turning 18 she could take off and do whatever she wanted. All she needed was money, and during her final month in high school she plotted how to finance her upcoming road-trip from her mother's bank account. By the time they left, Amy was so conditioned to doing anything Courtney described as "fun" or "cool" that the idea of not taking off with her friend never crossed her mind. ---------- Amy and Suzanne had dinner with Robert several times over the summer. Suzanne seemed to trust Robert for legal advice and always showed him any contract she needed to sign. Robert spent hours with Suzanne and gave her hundreds of dollars worth of legal advice for free. Amy reflected that it seemed strange that Suzanne went to Robert for advice when Suzanne's own father was a lawyer and just as competent at reviewing contracts. It was clear that Robert liked Suzanne. He seemed to enjoy talking to her. At first most of their conversation concentrated on how to study contracts to tell the difference between a good contract and a bad one. Suzanne had to tell Robert quite a bit about her work to give Robert an idea about her legal needs. Robert increasingly seemed to take interest in Suzanne's photography and her life in general as the summer ended and the fall semester started. Every so often Amy noticed Robert looking at Suzanne with a longing in his expression. It was true that Suzanne had a sexiness about her, that she was mature for her age, and had a quiet, dignified manner of carrying herself. It was true that Robert had now gone a year alone since Tricia had died. However it was also true that Robert and Suzanne had absolutely nothing in common. Amy realized that nothing could ever come of Robert's thoughts about Suzanne, whatever they happened to be. Even so, Amy was jealous that Robert was looking at Suzanne instead of at her. Robert was pleased about the influence that Suzanne had on Amy's life. He was hugely relieved at the thought of no longer having to act as a surrogate parent to a girl who had a crush on him. Being Amy's roommate, Suzanne had taken over that role. ---------- Amy felt much more relaxed as she started the fall semester. She no longer felt so tense about doing well in her classes. She started relaxing more and more. Although Suzanne was every bit as adamant about forcing Amy out of the apartment in time to make her classes as she had been during the spring, she could not stand over Amy and force her to keep track of her assignments. As the fall semester progressed Amy started to let her guard down. By the end of October Amy's attitude would land her into serious trouble with one of her professors. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 06 Chapter 6 - Halloween Party Midterms snuck up on Amy before she realized it. While it was true that Suzanne had her on an aggressive photo shoot schedule, it was also true that Amy had not put forth as much effort into her classes as she had during the spring and summer semesters. Amy's most pressing problem was a term paper due October 24 for her modern history of economics class. Amy hated both the subject and the professor. Just two days before the deadline Amy remembered the paper. Two days! She thought about talking to her professor to get an extension, but knew right away that would not work. The professor's name was Dr. Ruth Burnside. She was about 40 years old or so, fairly good-looking for her age, about average height and stature. Burnside always dressed in immaculate dark business attire and usually wore her black hair pulled back in a bun, which added to the severity of her appearance. Amy's professor had a cold stare and a very severe manner about her in general. She seemed to look down on her students, and especially delighted in humiliating the fraternity guys. Her pet peeve was baseball caps worn backwards. The male students quickly learned to have their baseball caps off in her class, if they did not want to be the targets of her acidic comments. In class her favorite comment was "Excuses are like assholes. Everybody has one." It was easy for her students to picture her as a dominatrix. Amy knew that she would get no sympathy from her professor. Amy briefly discussed her term paper situation with her lab partner from geology class. The other girl mentioned that there were a couple of websites that had term papers posted. Maybe Amy could pick up some ideas from there. Amy spent that night on the Internet and found what she needed. She downloaded a paper on the Marshall Plan and went to bed, hugely relieved. Tomorrow she could make a few small changes and it would be ready to turn in on time. She should have known better. The following Monday Dr. Burnside's teaching assistant returned the term papers. Amy noticed the frustrated looks on her classmates' faces as they looked at their grades. When it was Amy's turn to get her paper back, instead of the report Burnside's assistant handed her an empty folder. A small note was inside. "See me in my office after class. -Burnside-" Amy felt sick. She went pale and her hands shook. Before class ended she had enough time to wonder how Robert and her roommate would react when they found out. As Amy entered the office area for the economics department, she came up to another student from the class standing outside Burnside's door. She was a petite Asian girl called Wendy Li. Wendy's real name was pronounced Wen-Chuan, but she preferred Wendy. Wendy looked back at Amy. Wendy had tears in her dark eyes. "Term paper?" Amy managed to get out "Yeah". Burnside called the two students into her office. She did not offer them seats. With a cold, fierce, expression in her eyes, the professor handed Wendy's paper to Amy, and Amy's paper to Wendy. Wendy had turned in the same paper as had Amy. Burnside gave the two girls enough time to let this sink in. Then she handed the girls another copy of the report, this time the original downloaded from the Internet. "You two understand this university's cheating policy?" Both girls nodded. The cheating would be reported to the campus administration. Amy and Wendy would be expelled immediately and would take F's in their other classes. Furthermore, they would be placed in a database of students who had cheated for other universities to view, should they apply somewhere else. They were made to initial this policy line-by-line when they applied to study. "Do you have anything to say for yourselves?" Wendy sobbed. Amy felt like she was going to throw up. Neither said anything. "Good. You know what I say about excuses. Now sit down." Burnside stayed quiet for a few minutes, enjoying the increasing nervousness of her two students. Finally she spoke again. "How would you like me to give you an extension of two weeks to write an honest report?" Amy and Wendy looked up. They were too shocked to speak. Had they heard right? "Well... answer the question." Amy spoke for both of them. "Dr. Burnside, we would really appreciate it. We promise..." "Stuff it. I don't want promises." interrupted Burnside. "Ordinarily I would burn you for this. I am willing to cut you slack on your papers simply because I need a couple of hostesses for my Halloween party. Every year I throw one and I always need hostesses. I will demand a lot from you and I can guarantee you a tough night. But it beats the alternative." Wendy and Amy looked at each other. They nodded in agreement. Burnside took the reports back from Amy and Wendy to place them in a folder. She dropped the folder in her filing cabinet and locked it. "You will get these back when you turn in your other papers." Burnside then handed Wendy a picture of a model wearing straight black hair, cut shoulder length and curved in slightly at the bottom, with bangs in the front. Wendy passed the picture to Amy. "I want both of you to have your hair like this when you come to my house on the 31st. Amy, you will have to dye your hair black for the party." Burnside continued, "Be at my house at 3:00 in the afternoon. Here are the instructions to get there." "One more thing. You'll need to sign these." Burnside took out two sheets of paper and passed them to Amy and Wendy. She passed a pen to Amy. Amy's copy read: I, __________, admit to having attempted to commit plagiarism on __________. I have read and fully understand this university's cheating policy, and am fully aware of the consequences for committing an act of plagiarism under the student code of ethics. In lieu of disciplinary action from the university administration, I, __________, freely and willingly choose to accept the disciplinary alternative offered by my professor, Dr. Burnside. I understand that upon completion of the disciplinary alternative to Dr. Burnside's satisfaction, I will continue my coursework and no further action will be taken against me. Signed __________. Their hearts pounding, Amy and Wendy filled in their names and the date they turned in their term papers. They signed the papers and handed them back to Burnside. ---------- At 3:00 p.m. sharp Wendy and Amy showed up together in Wendy's BMW at Dr. Burnside's house. Neither wanted to face Burnside alone. When the professor opened the door, her appearance shocked her two students. She was dressed in a black leather corset and a black leather bikini bottom. She had black silk stockings that came up to her upper thighs, but was still wearing bedroom slippers. She wore black lipstick, thick black eyeliner and black fingernail polish. Inside items for the party were stacked on one side of Burnside's living room. These included standard party items such as coolers, a coffee maker, and food. The other items clearly indicated that this would be a BDSM theme and costume party. There were bondage items, leather furniture, and black sheets to hang on the walls. The living room itself was huge, it was one of the largest living rooms either Amy or Wendy had ever seen in an average-sized tract home. Burnside had chosen the house years before precisely because of its over-sized living room, perfect for accommodating large parties. "Ok. You two get started moving the living room furniture to the back bedroom except the chairs, which I want against the wall. Be careful with my stuff. I'll have the skin off your asses if you break anything." Amy and Wendy spent the next hour moving furniture while Burnside worked in the kitchen. Their muscles were sore when they finished, but the work relieved their stress a bit. Next Burnside instructed them to hang the sheets on a line of hooks on the walls near the ceiling. The room's appearance totally changed once the sheets were up. The girls set up the party tables and placed the chairs against the black walls. It was past 5:00 p.m. when they finished. "Now I need you two to get ready. Get your clothes off and put them in these bags" Burnside went back to the kitchen. Amy immediately started to undress. She had been nude for Suzanne often enough during the last year for it not to bother her to be nude in front of Burnside. She dropped her clothes in her bag and turned around to see Wendy still dressed, her face buried in her hands. "Wendy, come-on. You got to do this. I can't do it without you," pleaded Amy to her classmate. Wendy, crying, started to fumble with her buttons. Worried that Burnside would come back in and lose her temper at both of them, Amy pushed Wendy's hands aside and quickly unbuttoned her companion's blouse. She unhooked her bra and pulled both the blouse and bra off her shoulders. Amy then hooked her thumbs under the waistbands of Wendy's jeans and panties and pushed them to her ankles. Wendy covered herself with her hands as tears rolled down her cheeks. "Wendy, step up." Wendy lifted her right foot. Amy put both hands around Wendy's ankle and pushed the jeans and underwear over her foot. She did the same for Wendy's other foot. She dropped Wendy's clothes in her bag just in time. Burnside came back in and took the two bags to the bedroom closet. Amy glanced over at her companion to admire her thin, petite body and flawless brown skin. "Now I want you two to clean up." Burnside handed two razors and a can of shaving cream to Amy. "And shave between your legs. Everything. That will be part of your outfit." Wendy seemed completely immobilized. Amy grabbed her by the wrist and led her to the bathroom. Wendy watched sadly as Amy turned on the bathwater. When the tub was half full, Amy guided her trembling classmate into the water. Once Wendy sat down Amy told her to stand up and spread her legs. She quickly lathered the small amount of black hair on Wendy's pubis with shaving cream and carefully drew the razor across. She gently pushed aside Wendy's dark labia to shave her more thoroughly. She told Wendy to bend over and spread her bottom cheeks. Amy felt a tingle of excitement touching and shaving Wendy's most private areas. More than anything else Amy wanted to hurry, however, as if speeding up now would somehow shorten the long night that lay ahead of them. Amy quickly instructed Wendy to squat back down in the water to rinse off. Wendy said nothing while Amy quickly shaved herself. Amy dried off. She held the towel to Wendy. Reluctantly Wendy took it and rubbed it around her body. "Let's go. Let's get this over with." The two girls stood in front of Burnside. Naked, shaved, and with their straight black hair they looked much more alike, to Burnside's satisfaction. Burnside motioned them to come over to one of the tables. She grabbed Wendy's hands and clapped metal bondage cuffs on her wrists. She did the same with Amy's wrists. She handed additional cuffs to each for their ankles. Amy put on her own and then Wendy's. Next came metal collars. There was something scary about having cold metal locked around her neck, thought Amy, once her collar latched in place. The next detail was temporary tattoos. Burnside ordered Amy to hold out her arms while she wrapped each upper arm with a thick black tribal design. She did the same for Amy's thighs. Amy now had thick black designs encircling her upper arms and upper thighs. Burnside then handed another set to Amy and directed her to put them on Wendy. Now the two girls looked even more alike, with matching metal cuffs and tattoos. Burnside looked over the two students with a hungry expression that worried Amy. "Now you are almost ready for the party. Everyone will be here in about two hours. There is one more issue we need to settle before the party starts." Burnside stepped next to the table full of S&M implements. "Having you two work as hostesses is to make up for the fact that you tried to cheat and that I'm going to give you a second chance. But what angers me even more is the idea that you two thought you could trick me. What were you thinking? That I was born yesterday? That I do what I do as a hobby? I have a doctorate. I have published three books and God knows how many articles. I am a professional. I have been one for 15 years. I take the assumption that you two little sophomores could outwit me as an insult! And you're going to pay for that insult!" Burnside pulled a leather switch off the table and slashed it through the air. It made a sinister hiss. "So, which one of you wants to go first?" Wendy gasped. She cringed behind Amy. It was obvious that she had not been punished for a long time, if ever. Amy, who had submitted to two punishments over the past year, was only slightly less scared. She knew that Burnside's leather switch would hurt more than anything she had experienced so far from Robert or Suzanne. She felt no excitement like she had when Robert was about to punish her in January, just fear. The worst part of it was that the punishment was perfectly justified. Had Amy been in her professor's shoes she would have felt exactly the same way Burnside felt. Still, Amy was determined that Burnside would not get the best of her. She would take whatever punishment Burnside chose to dish out. She would not beg for mercy or even cry if she could possibly help it. She wanted Wendy to have the same attitude: don't let this bitch get the best of you. She would set the example. She looked Burnside in the eye and said. "I'll go." Burnside, slightly impressed with Amy's courage, ordered her to bend over what looked like a tall leather bench with several hooks on each of its four legs. Amy complied. She spread her legs and grabbed the feet of the bench with her hands. Wendy now had a perfect view of Amy's bottom and the backs of her legs. When Amy relaxed her neck and let her face hang upside down she could see Wendy's dark, petite figure and horrified expression from between her legs. Burnside crouched to attach Amy's metal cuffs to the hooks on the bench, but Amy said "Dr. Burnside, that won't be necessary. I won't move until you tell me I can get up." Burnside let go of the hook in her hand. "Have it your way. You'll get extras if you break your word." Burnside stepped back, placed the switch across the center of Amy's bottom to measure distance, and readjusted her position. Amy closed her eyes and held her breath. She heard the whistle of the first blow. Instantly a vicious burning sting radiated from the center of her left bottom cheek. A thin line appeared on her bottom. It quickly swelled and turned dark. The pain was different from anything that she had felt when punished by Robert or Suzanne, but at first it was not much worse than she had experienced the time Robert had strapped her. However, it quickly intensified. She gasped, but managed to stay quiet. Her fingers turned white from grabbing the legs of the bench. Amy heard the whoosh again. Another line appeared, slightly above and parallel to the first. The pain from the two welts continued to get worse, but it was still bearable. Amy gasped again and started breathing heavily. The third whistle announced the appearance of a thin line immediately below the first welt. Amy gasped again. The muscles of her arms tensed trying to keep hold of the bench. The pain was horrible. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Burnside's fourth blow was much further down than the others, at the base of Amy's left bottom cheek. Burnside hit a fifth time, immediately above the fourth welt. Amy gritted her teeth. Her tears were beginning to drop on the carpet under her face. Her breathing came in and out in gasps. Burnside hit Amy again between the third and fifth welts on her left bottom cheek. Amy now had six red welts on her left bottom cheek, evenly spaced. Amy's knees started shaking with the seventh blow, laid on the upper part of her bottom cheek. Amy now had seven thin red stripes, evenly spaced, across her left bottom cheek. Burnside knew how to dish out a punishment. She had hit Amy with precision each time, never crossing any of the welts. Amy was in intense pain, but she had not yet made any noise other than her breathing. She had not moved out of position. The only evidence of her suffering were her shaking knees and the growing number of drops on the carpet from the tears rolling off her face. Ruth Burnside was impressed. This girl had some spirit to her. Amy's punishment was only half over, but Burnside suspected that Amy would hold up as well for the welts on her right bottom cheek. Wendy's wide, horrified eyes were glued to Amy's welts. Wendy was amazed that Amy was still in position and not screaming her guts out. She also was amazed that Burnside could be so cruel to another human being. Burnside switched sides and continued. A whistle announced the first welt on Amy's right bottom cheek. It was low on her bottom, opposite the lowest welt on her left cheek. Amy's legs continued to shake. Her tears continued to stain the carpet under her face. This time Burnside methodically worked her way up Amy's right bottom cheek, laying on seven welts to match the ones on her left bottom cheek. Amy stayed quiet the whole time, except a short groan on the final stroke. Amy stayed bent over while Burnside and Wendy watched the final welts turn dark and rise. Amy used every bit of her strength to not cry. Although her punishment was over, the pain did not subside; it seemed to get worse. For a few minutes she could not think of anything except the increasing pain from her welts and her determination not to let the professor hear anything more out of her. Her breathing became irregular as she struggled to stay quiet. Finally the pain eased slightly. "OK, Amy, you can get off the horse. You're done." Amy stood up and bit her lip as the change of pressure on her skin sent new waves of pain through her bottom. Her face was flushed and wet from tears. Burnside gave Amy a few minutes to recover and for herself to enjoy the sight of her punished student. The darkening welts combined with the cuffs, metal collar, black hair, and tattoos to make Amy a perfect picture of hardcore submission. The professor licked her lips. Under her leather bikini she felt wet. Still, Burnside had never punished a student who had held up as well as Amy. She had taken 14 hard strokes and had made almost no noise at all. For that Burnside held a grudging admiration for her student. She looked at Wendy. Wendy panicked and ran to the bedroom to look for her clothes. Burnside admonished Amy. "Better stop her. If she leaves, she's history as far as her career is concerned" Amy ran to the bedroom. Her welts seemed to scorch as her swollen bottom jiggled. She found Wendy and grabbed her hands. Wendy was shaking. "I can't!... I'll fail the class!... I don't care!" "Wendy! You can't take off! Come on...we're in this together!" Wendy sobbed. Amy continued, "Didn't you tell me that you were the first girl in your family to go to college? Do you want to waste that now?" "Amy, how could you let her..." "Because I know what the street feels like, that's why! If it takes a sore ass to keep from going back to the street, I'll take the sore ass! And I didn't let her win. I didn't cry or beg her for mercy. That's what she wants. I didn't give it to her!" Wendy's dark eyes looked up into Amy's. Amy squeezed her classmate's hands. "Come on. You can do it. I'll be with you. And tomorrow this will all be over with." Wendy nodded. Amy led Wendy back into the living room. Burnside pointed her switch towards the bench. Amy squeezed Wendy's hand before letting go. "Don't beg her for mercy. Whatever you do, don't beg her for mercy," Amy whispered in her ear. Amy stepped aside. Wendy bent over the bench as instructed. Burnside clipped Wendy's wrists and ankles to the legs of the bench; it was obvious that there was no way that Wendy would take her punishment as well as Amy. Burnside held her switch to Wendy's bottom and positioned herself. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 06 In spite of her own pain, the sight of the flawless skin on Wendy's petite bottom, stretched tight and waiting to be marked, excited Amy. This was the first time she would see an Asian girl punished. Wendy's body seemed so delicate to her, so different from Suzanne's. Amy suddenly wished that she could be the one punishing Wendy. Maybe in the future... Amy looked at Burnside. Burnside, with her switch and her black outfit, was the perfect picture of a dominatrix. The professor was staring intently at Wendy's bottom with that same hungry look that had worried Amy when she and Wendy first had come out of the bathroom. Amy wondered if Burnside would be even harsher on Wendy than she had been on her. Amy watched Burnside twist her arm up and shoulder backwards. The switch made its familiar whistle. A reddish line instantly appeared in the center of Wendy's small bottom. Wendy's high-pitched shriek was so loud that it hurt Amy's ears. The shriek died down to loud sobs. Wendy's entire body shook. No, thought Amy, she was not going to take this well. Burnside twisted again and viciously slashed at Wendy's bottom, just slightly above the first line. Amy was amazed that Burnside could hit so hard with such accuracy. Wendy shrieked again. A second thin reddish line appeared on Wendy's bottom and quickly turned dark. Burnside struck again. A third welt appeared below the first two. Another ear-splitting shriek from Wendy made Amy wince. Wendy started jerking around. The muscles on her legs tensed as she struggled against the restraints on her wrists and ankles. Burnside's eyes shined with pleasure. There was nothing that she enjoyed more than watching a screaming, struggling student. This little Asian more than made up for the self-control that the other girl had shown... Amy had been right about staying quiet through her own punishment. While Burnside had enjoyed marking her bottom and watching her efforts to control the agony when she had been let up, Amy still managed to take a lot of the fun out of her punishment for Burnside by staying quiet and still. Burnside licked her lips. She slashed at Wendy again. Another screech. Wendy shook her black hair around as she moved her head. Her bottom tensed and relaxed as she frantically moved about, alternately exposing and hiding her dark labia and bottom-hole. Amy's heart went out for poor Wendy. On their way over to Burnside's house Wendy had told Amy that she was the only daughter of a Chinese-American importer, and that her over-protective parents had spoiled her all her life. She was rarely punished, even as a small child. The position in which she had placed herself by downloading that Marshall Plan paper was totally new to her. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. Amy looked at Burnside's face with mounting concern. Burnside swung again and a fifth welt appeared on Wendy's bottom. Wendy's screams seemed to feed Burnside's desire to hurt her victim. There was no question that Burnside was hitting Wendy harder than she had hit Amy. Burnside swung for the sixth time. Six dark red lines now marked Wendy's left bottom cheek, all perfectly parallel and evenly spaced. Wendy was now screaming non-stop from pain and panic. Burnside, her eyes wild with excitement, landed the seventh blow at the top of Wendy's small bottom cheek. "Dr. Burnside" sobbed Wendy. "Please..." Burnside jumped to Wendy's right side like she was possessed. "That's right, you spoiled little princess! I'll teach you to cheat in my class!" Oh my God, thought Amy. The idea crossed Amy's mind that she might have to intervene, free Wendy, and get her out of the house. If it goes any further than the seven extra strokes on Wendy's right side, she would have no choice... Burnside took up position, tightened her lips, and slashed hard. Wendy had stopped screaming and was sobbing loudly. Burnside laid the second line across Wendy's right bottom cheek, more severely than any of the others. Her face was illuminated with excitement. Her black lipstick was smeared. Wendy continued to sob. Suddenly Burnside noticed that Wendy was moving her bottom in and out, momentarily exposing her vulva each time. Burnside timed the next blow at the lowest part of Wendy's right cheek to hit precisely when her tender labia were most exposed. Wendy jerked like she had been electrocuted. She screamed. Burnside did not wait, but quickly slashed Wendy two more times. Wendy screamed again, a long shrill, ear piercing scream. Wendy, no! Your screaming is making her want to hit you all that much more, thought Amy. Quickly Burnside hit Wendy three more times. She no longer seemed to have the same control over where the strokes landed. A couple of the welts on Wendy's bottom crossed the others, resulting in ugly blood blisters. Wendy screamed again. Burnside raised her switch again. "DR. BURNSIDE!" screamed Amy. Burnside looked up at Amy and realized what she had been about to do to Wendy. She had lost control of herself, and it was Amy's voice that snapped her back into reality. Suddenly the spell lifted from the professor. The wild expression went out of her eyes. Breathing heavily, Burnside reached down to unhook Wendy's wrists and ankles. Wendy's hands immediately covered her face, but she stayed bent over the bench, her body shaking violently. "Be ready to serve in 45 minutes." snapped Burnside. "There is some black lipstick in the bathroom. I want you to put it on." With that she turned to go into the kitchen. Amy stepped over to Wendy. She grabbed the hands of her sobbing, trembling classmate and helped her stand up. Wendy seemed quite unsteady on her feet, forcing Amy to put her arm around her classmate to support her. Amy knew from her own bottom that, even though her punishment had ended, the pain in Wendy's bottom would get worse for a few minutes before subsiding slightly. Wendy buried her face into Amy's shoulder. Amy put both arms around her classmate to comfort her as best she could. It was obvious the experience had devastated Wendy. Amy wondered if she would be able to perform her hostess duties in just 45 minutes. She badly wanted to comfort Wendy, to hold her, to reassure her. However, Amy resisted the temptation to tell Wendy that everything was going to be all right, because she was not sure herself that everything would be all right. For fifteen minutes the two naked girls stood with their arms around each other, one sobbing, the other saying nothing. Finally, Amy told Wendy to hold on to one of the tables so that she could get her some water. Wendy seemed in a daze. Amy had to place her hands on the table for her. Amy walked into the kitchen and found Burnside laying out cocktail ingredients. She stared straight into her professor's eyes. With an edge of defiance in her voice she stated "Dr. Burnside, I need a glass of water for Wendy." When Burnside handed her a glass Amy continued. "I don't know if she'll be able to serve your guests or do anything in half an hour. I'll do my best to help her get ready." When she returned to the living room, Amy found Wendy slumped on the floor with her hands still on the table. She was still sobbing. "Wendy, come on." With difficulty Amy managed to get Wendy back to her feet. The sharp pain shooting through her own bottom made her task twice as hard. Amy fought back her own tears as she struggled to get Wendy upright. Repeating what Robert had done for her after he had punished her, Amy pressed the glass to Wendy's lips. Wendy seemed to recover a little after she drank. She threw her arms around her classmate again and continued sobbing into Amy's shoulder. Amy knew that they both needed to sit down for a few minutes and rest, but that obviously was out of the question with their bottoms so badly marked. She instead led Wendy to the back bedroom and onto the bed, face down. Wendy stopped crying. Her sad dark eyes looked into Amy's. Amy knelt beside the bed and gently brushed her classmate's hair out of her face. Amy badly wanted to lie down herself, but there was no time. She had to concentrate on getting Wendy back on her feet as quickly as possible. Amy went in the bathroom and wet a washrag. She wiped her classmate's face. Finally she tried to reassure her. "Wendy, the worst is over. All we have to do now is put on some lipstick and serve drinks for a few hours. Your parents won't even know." Wendy smiled shyly and raised herself up on her elbows. Amy helped her off the bed. When they entered the kitchen Burnside told Amy and Wendy what they needed to do. First they would greet guests and take their coats to the bedroom. Then they would work as hostesses. Essentially one would take drink orders and the other mix the drinks in the kitchen. They could change every so often if they wanted. A drink recipe pamphlet lay near the ingredients for the drinks they did not know how to make. Burnside handed Amy a small notebook to take orders. This enormously relieved Wendy. She could stay in the kitchen most of the time mixing drinks and not have to be out in the crowd with nothing on. She took it for granted that it would be Amy who would interact with the guests. Amy and Wendy spent the first half hour of the party opening the door and running back and forth to the bedroom with their arms full of coats. Most of the guests wore outlandish outfits, representing every shade of S&M: nurses, rubber, cops, medieval, diapers, nuns, leather, whatever. Guests continued to arrive until the party overflowed out Burnside's back door onto her patio. Amy recognized at least two professors and several graduate student aides. Burnside's S&M Halloween party had been a yearly tradition since she had started teaching. It seemed that everyone there knew each other. Amy realized that this was more a costume party than a real S&M party. Amy was shocked to see Burnside laughing and skipping around playfully swatting at her male guests with her switch, jumping away before they had a chance to swat her back. Burnside almost was acting like a little kid. The party itself was an interesting experience for Amy. This was a strange, dark world she had only heard about previously. The outfits intrigued Amy, as did their promise of the mixture of pain and pleasure. Every so often Amy looked at her professor, wondering what experiences Burnside might have had in her past to make her so obsessed with being the queen of this bizarre collection of individuals. She watched Burnside flirt shamelessly with both male and female guests. It was one thing to imagine Burnside as a dominatrix in class. It was quite another to see Burnside among her own crowd, with her black outfit, black make-up, and black switch. Watching Burnside fascinated Amy. What Amy liked most about her professor was that Burnside played by the rules only when she felt like it. The fact that Amy and Wendy were not facing having their lives ruined by being expelled under the student code of ethics was proof enough of that. Amy moved continuously through the crowd with her notebook and tray. She found that she was starting to enjoy herself somewhat. It thrilled her to be naked in such a large crowd, casually asking people what they wanted to drink. She flirted with the men, and even some of the women. In a strange way, she even enjoyed the stares her marked bottom received when she walked away from the guests with their orders. Wendy was kept busy mixing drinks and thumbing through the drink mix pamphlet looking for recipes. She was so busy that she did not have time to think about the experience with Burnside that she had just endured. Amy, who had briefly worked in a restaurant during high school, systematically laid the orders out in a row for Wendy to fill. Sometimes there were a few extra minutes between orders, which allowed Amy to mix drinks and help Wendy stay caught up. Wendy smiled in gratitude whenever Amy was able to take a few minutes to help her. Amy started to feel deeply satisfied from having helped another person through a difficult experience. The two students now shared a strong bond, which would last well past the night. The highlight of the S&M play was when four male graduate students placed a bet, the loser having to take a caning from Burnside. Amy stopped her work for a few minutes to enjoy the sight of the good-looking student, naked from the waist down, bent over the same bench she had been punished on a few hours before. Burnside used a cane, punishing the student even more severely than she had punished Wendy. Amy noticed the familiar hungry look in Burnside's eyes as she wielded the cane. When the student's companions pulled him off the bench and forced him to turn around, he had a furious erection, to the delight of the crowd. Suddenly Burnside grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him. He grabbed her upper arms and returned the kiss. She pulled the student by the hand into one of the bedrooms, the guests cheering them on. Shortly after Burnside and the student reappeared from the room, once again to the cheering of the crowd, the party began to wind down. Burnside told Amy to stop taking orders for alcoholic drinks and serve only non-alcoholic beverages. The change eased Wendy's workload to almost nothing. Wendy even managed to come out for a while and watch some of the party. The guests started taking pictures and many of them wanted the hostesses included in their scrapbooks. Amy and Wendy posed over and over with the arms of different guests wrapped around their shoulders. Finally Amy and Wendy began the task of shuttling the coats out of the bedroom back to the front hallway to pass out to people going out the door. When the last of the partiers left they had their first truly good piece of luck of the night. Burnside originally had planned that Amy and Wendy would stay to clean up before being allowed to go home. However, Burnside's caning victim remained with her. He had a strange look in his eyes, from both being excited and feeling guilty about it at the same time. He already had a metal collar around his neck. He was erect under his costume. Burnside had other things on her mind than putting away dishes. She wanted to get rid of Amy and Wendy as soon as possible and enjoy her new sex toy. Clean-up could wait until tomorrow. Burnside would have a cute guy to boss around to do the clean-up, a far more delicious prospect for her than ordering two tired girls to do it. Burnside handed them their clothes and unlatched their cuffs and collars. Amy and Wendy were dismissed. "You are not off the hook." Burnside reminded them. "I expect top-rate term papers from both of you. Originals, this time." Amy and Wendy slowly slid their jeans over their bottoms, wincing as they eased the coarse cloth over their welts. Slowly they walked back to Wendy's car. Sitting down in the car seats was tough. On the way back the two girls agreed to get together in two days to start work on their term papers. Amy suggested that they write a joint paper, if Burnside agreed to the idea. Wendy dropped Amy off at her apartment building's door and they hugged each other goodnight. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 07 Chapter 7 - November 1 Amy expected to quietly slip into the apartment and into her own room. She would have to sleep on her stomach. She would have to figure out how to get the temporary tattoos off before Suzanne saw them. She needed to figure out an explanation for her hair. Most of all, she needed to figure out an explanation for the dark red marks on her bottom. But she could deal with all that tomorrow. At that moment she just wanted some sleep. Amy quietly put her key in the door and eased it open. She was startled by the loud metallic crash of pans falling on the floor. A light went on in the living room. "Amy, get in here!...Now!" snapped Suzanne's voice. So much for a quiet entry. Amy pushed open the door into the pans, which seemed to clatter in protest. Suzanne had stacked them next to the door precisely to warn her when Amy pushed it open. "Nice hair." Suzanne sat up on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around the lower part of her body, glaring at Amy. Her bare, folded arms covered her breasts. "Amy, you have one chance, and one chance only, to tell me where you were tonight." "I...I was at a professor's Halloween party." "WHICH professor's Halloween party, Amy?" "My economics professor." "The name. I want to hear the name." "...Ruth Burnside" The expression on Suzanne's face and the tone of her voice made it obvious that she knew something. Amy wondered how much. "Amy, were you a guest at this party?" "I was invited..." "That's not what I asked you. I didn't ask you if you were invited. I asked you if you were a guest." Amy felt sick. Suzanne knew. "I...I...was a...hostess for Dr. Burnside. With another girl from my class." "Now for the question that most interests me. WHY were you a hostess for Dr. Burnside?" Amy looked that the floor. She could face Burnside easily enough, but not her roommate. Finally she managed to answer. "I...I...downloaded a term paper from the Internet. I...made a couple of small changes and turned it in as my own work. Burnside caught me. It turned out that the other girl, Wendy, downloaded the same paper. Burnside...told us that...if we hosted her party, she'd let us re-write our papers." "Were you planning on telling me this when you got back?" Amy's emotional strength gave out. She had held up all evening, impressing Burnside and helping Wendy get through the ordeal. She was not prepared for the shock of having to face her roommate. She was beyond exhausted. Her spirit collapsed. She started to cry. "No." "And what were you planning to do if Dr. Burnside had not let you re-write your paper?" Amy buried her face in her hands. "I would've gotten kicked out of school." Suzanne looked harshly at her roommate for a few minutes. "Take off your clothes. I want to see happened to you." Reluctantly Amy peeled off her clothes. At least she no longer needed to worry about getting the temporary tattoos off before Suzanne saw them... "Turn around." Sadly Amy turned around. Fourteen dark red stripes, seven on each side, marked her bottom. She would have them for at least several days, possibly a week. Suzanne was infuriated. This would cause her to have to cancel the photo shoot she had planned for the following weekend. "You're probably curious how I know. I guess you weren't aware that Lisa Campbell, your TA, is a friend of mine because she's a member of my photography club. Two nights ago Lisa mentioned that the professor who she works for caught two students cheating. They turned in the same term paper about the Marshall Plan. I thought that was somewhat interesting so I asked her for more details. When Ruth Burnside's name came up, I remembered seeing the Marshall Plan paper near the computer last week. I'd been wondering what it was for. Figuring out you were one of the cheaters was not rocket science." "You really put yourself at risk, Amy." Suzanne continued. "It'll be interesting to see what Robert thinks." "SUZANNE! PLEASE, NO!" begged Amy. "Please don't tell him! I've been punished enough!" "Not by us you haven't. You stay right there, as you are. I'm taking you to Robert's place as soon as it's light outside. I want to watch you explain this to him." Amy could not have been more miserable. Obviously there would be no sleep for her any time soon. She was terribly afraid that Robert might strap her over her welts. She dreaded having to face his cold stare once he found out that she nearly got kicked out of college. She stood in the middle of the living room crying. It was getting light outside. Amy had not realized how late it was when she and Wendy left Burnside's house. Suzanne dialed Robert's apartment and handed her roommate the phone. "Hello Robert? Suzanne and I...are going to come over in a few minutes." "Great. What do you want for breakfast?" Amy put her hand over the phone to pass the question to Suzanne. "Tell him I'll have whatever's convenient for him to fix. Tell him that you're not having anything." "Suzanne says that she'll have whatever you want to fix. She says I can't have anything." Robert was silent for a moment. "Amy, what's wrong?" "I...have to tell you something when I come over." Amy's voice broke. "You're not going to like it." When she hung up Suzanne passed her a robe. There was no point in getting dressed, she explained. As soon as they got to Robert's place he would see the full picture. For the second time in less than an hour Amy's bottom throbbed as the welts were pressed into a car seat. Suzanne, normally a cautious driver, seemed to delight in hitting all the speed bumps hard that morning. Suzanne was genuinely infuriated at her roommate. Amy's clumsy effort to cheat with the Internet paper disgusted her. Suzanne was an idealist when it came to academic integrity, to the point of not being realistic in her expectations of fellow students. There were two reasons for her feelings. First, about four years before she met Amy, she had been accused of plagiarism herself when she had actually been innocent. She managed to prove her innocence by showing her notes and the list of books she had borrowed from the school library, but still felt that she was not really being believed. Much worse for her was the time that another photography student stole and attempted to copyright some of her pictures. Suzanne was unable to prove the pictures were hers, but got revenge by helping the photos' model file a suit against the thief for not having a model release. For Suzanne a breach of academic integrity was unforgivable. When the two roommates entered Robert's apartment, he looked at them with astonishment. Suzanne was almost speechless with anger. Amy, with a miserable expression on her face, was wearing only a thin bathrobe with nothing underneath. She had that strange black haircut. When Suzanne ripped off the robe, Robert shocked eyes first went to the tattoos on Amy's arms and thighs. "What in hell did you do that for?" Amy mumbled "They're temporary. They'll come off in a few days." "Turn around" snapped Suzanne. When Amy hesitated, she grabbed her arm and twisted her around. "Now, explain please, why you look like this." Amy, between tears and sobs, told him the story of the paper, her office visit with Burnside, Wendy, and the party. Robert's reaction relieved Amy and dismayed Suzanne. He did not explode; he did not pull out his strap. He simply said, "Sounds like you had one hell of a night. I take it that you learned your lesson, that you won't be doing this again?" Amy nodded. Robert picked up the robe from the floor and handed it to her. "Good. Let's sit down for breakfast. Then Amy, I want you to take a bath and go to bed." Suzanne stared at Robert in disbelief. "I don't believe this! You're going to just let her get away with plagiarism? Plagiarism?" Robert looked at Suzanne. His temper began to get short with Amy's roommate. "Look, you need to calm down! You need to get some things into perspective! I'm not letting her get away with anything!" They sat down for a very strange breakfast. Amy was so tired she could barely get her food down. Suzanne was fuming at both Robert and Amy and ate very little. Robert looked from Suzanne to Amy and back again, more interested in Suzanne than in Amy. The idea was forming in his mind that he needed to talk to Suzanne once Amy was asleep. Amy's remaining energy was fading fast. She skipped the bath and collapsed on the guest bed. Robert took a closer look at the welts on her bottom, then covered her up. That professor had been quite vicious. Robert did not fault Burnside for having whipped Amy. There was no question in his mind that she had deserved her punishment, because what she had done was sheer stupidity. She was lucky to still be enrolled in college. However, now that she had been punished and the matter apparently settled, it was time to move on. Robert was irritated that Suzanne wanted to punish Amy further. To hit her on these welts would risk real injury. What on earth was she thinking? Her apparent desire to hurt Amy disappointed him, because he had always liked Suzanne. He was seeing a different side of her, one that he did not like. Suzanne glared at Robert when he re-entered the living room. "She's asleep. Come on, it's a fairly nice morning for this time of the year. Let's go for a walk." Once on the street Robert pondered how to begin talking to Suzanne. Finally he said "You know, it seems that the issue of plagiarism pushes your buttons a bit." "I just can't believe that Amy could do such a thing! She knows how I feel about it!" "Oh, I think you made your feelings quite clear, to both me and Amy. I take it that you had negative experiences in your own life as a result of plagiarism?" "Of course." With that Suzanne launched into long description of her bitter feelings about the two incidences of cheating in her life. Her bitterness about having been falsely accused of plagiarism weighed on her even more than the photo incident. She wanted to get her hands on the people who actually did cheat and caused her so much embarrassment... Robert sympathized, and laid out a couple of examples of ethical violations he had witnessed as an attorney. "The point is that these violations exist everywhere. They're a part of life." "Well, I don't want them as part of my life!" snapped Suzanne. "I don't want them as part of the life of anyone around me!" "Maybe. Many people would think that your outlook is admirable. But the point is that I am curious as to what exactly you expected when you dragged Amy over here." "I expected you to come down on her! I expected that you would punish her so hard that she wouldn't even think of trying to plagiarize again! I didn't expect that you would simply hug her and say 'It's OK, Amy, I understand. You had a rough night. Go beddy-bye.'" "You don't think she had a rough night? That professor punished her worse than I would have. I, personally, think she behaved admirably with that other girl, if I understand the story correctly from the way she told it." "The point is she did something that disgusted me. She knows how I feel about plagiarism. She knows it's the one thing I can't stand. She did it anyway! I take it personally and I think she should pay for it!" "And you don't think she paid for it last night? You don't think that being stripped, being caned, being forced to serve drinks in the nude all night, having to keep that other girl from going to pieces the whole time, facing an angry roommate at the end of it all, and finally having to re-do the term paper...that's not paying? You don't think she was punished?" "Not by me. Not for her betrayal of my principles..." "Your principles? What does this have to do with you? It's Amy that we're worried about, not you. Didn't you see those welts? Do you really think that punishing her over those welts would in any way help her?" That punishing her when she can barely stand on her feet would help her? That punishing her, when she still needs to complete that make-up term paper would help her?" Robert paused. Suzanne said nothing, not liking the direction of the conversation. Suddenly he felt that he had enough information to understand what she really wanted. "Suzanne, I've always liked you. I've always thought that you've been a good influence on Amy. She loves you like you were her sister. But this morning I'm seeing a different side, a vindictive side, of you that I don't like at all. I believe that it is not Amy who you are trying to punish. It's that guy who stole your pictures. It's the people involved in your plagiarism accusations that you want to punish. Subconsciously, because Amy did the same thing they did, you were going to take out your anger on her. You were going to take out all your hostility against everyone who ever committed plagiarism on one person, on Amy." Robert paused, then drove home his point. "Think about this for a second. You are struggling with your own issues when it comes to this, not Amy's. You're mad at everyone who ever committed plagiarism. Because Amy tried it, you wanted to transfer your anger against the world of plagiarists onto the one person who trusts you the most. You wanted to humiliate her, punish her, hurt her, grind her down. Not because you wanted to help her, but because you hate all plagiarists. If what I'm saying is true, then I find it reprehensible. I find it reprehensible that you would want to hurt your best friend because of personal issues that you are dealing with. You tell me if I'm close to the truth." Suzanne went white. She looked directly at Robert. It was not in her nature to look away when confronted with an ugly fact by another person. She paused to think, to try to give him an honest answer. He had pushed through her veneer of self-righteousness and had forced her to do so as well. She realized he was right. "I guess that's the truth. I never thought about it like you described, but you're right. I'm afraid I owe Amy an apology. I owe an apology to you for disappointing you." They walked in silence for a long time. Suzanne was lost in thought. Robert had forced her to see something about herself that troubled her. She now realized how cruel she had been to Amy. She felt horribly ashamed for what she attempted to do to her friend at Robert's apartment. Worst of all, she had disappointed Robert, the only man in her life she had ever respected. Suzanne was not one to cry easily. However, her face clearly reflected her sadness and anger at her own behavior. Suddenly she looked up. "Robert, I have a favor to ask of you when we get back." Robert glanced over at Suzanne. Her next words surprised him. "I'm the one who should be punished, not Amy." "I think that Amy should be the one to do that. She's the one you wanted to hurt." Suzanne looked at Robert, her eyes full of sadness and fear. She struggled to express her next words. "Amy is not that strong. She wouldn't be able to...hit me hard enough. She wouldn't want to hurt me anyway. You'll have to do it." ---------- They said nothing more on their way back. Robert could tell that Suzanne was terrified of the impending punishment that she had requested for herself. Outwardly Robert maintained his cold demeanor towards Suzanne. Inwardly he was thrilled at the thought of seeing and punishing Amy's attractive roommate. Although her figure was not girlish like Amy's, Suzanne's body was intensely feminine. She was much more solidly built, with full hips and a nice large bottom that would take a lot of punishment. Robert's emotions were much more confused than the simple conflict between his anger at Suzanne and his thoughts about her body. He looked over at her sad expression and the long strands of loose hair that were blowing about her face. Robert actually found Suzanne extremely desirable. Secretly he had wanted to ask her out for several months. There was not the issue of her having been under his care, as had been the case with Amy. However he had held back, worried about their difference in age and the possibility of problems with Amy. As soon as they got back Robert checked on Amy. She was deeply asleep. He closed her door. Suzanne looked sadly at Robert, waiting for him to speak. "Do you still want to do this? Have me punish you, I mean?" "It's not that I want to. But I have no choice. I have to. I don't know how else I can ...I mean it's what I wanted you to do to Amy." She walked over to an easy chair. "Is it OK if I put my clothes here?" When Robert nodded, Suzanne began to undress. She neatly folded each piece of clothing as she took it off. As was typical for her, she wore no underwear. When finished she stood next to the chair, one hand resting on the back, waiting for his next instructions. Her figure reminded Robert of the Roman frescoes of Venus he had seen when he and Tricia had visited Italy a few years before. "The strap is on the wall in my room, next to a dresser. Go get it." Robert admired Suzanne's bottom as she walked to his room. Quickly she re-appeared with the strap in her hand. From Suzanne there was none of the modesty that Amy had shown the time Robert punished her. Together they moved the side table to the middle of the room. Robert realized that there was no need to tell Suzanne to be still during the punishment. Quickly she bent over one end of the table and grabbed the other end with her hands. "Put your feet on the outside of the table legs." Suzanne complied, exposing herself to Robert. Suzanne did not shave, but she did not have much hair on her vulva nor between her bottom cheeks. Robert had as clear a view of Suzanne as he had of Amy when he had strapped her. He paused for a moment to enjoy the sight of Suzanne's bottom, and then tapped it with the strap. Robert stepped back. Suzanne closed her eyes. CRACK! The first blow landed in the middle of Suzanne's left bottom cheek. The familiar pink rectangle made its appearance on Suzanne's bottom. Suzanne did not move, or make any sound at all other than a faint gasp. CRACK! Robert landed the second swat across both sides of her bottom. Suzanne gasped again. CRACK! Another swat across both cheeks, immediately below the first. Robert realized that it was going take a longer and more severe punishment to get through to Suzanne than had been the case with Amy. He would not time the strokes like he did with Amy at the beginning of the year. If he did, he and Suzanne would be here all day. CRACK! Robert landed the fourth swat to overlap the others. He hit hard, but the only result was a slightly louder gasp from Suzanne. She was tough, no question about it. Robert moved to Suzanne's right side. CRACK! A back-handed blow to her right side shook her whole bottom. CRACK!...CRACK! Robert laid two more backhanded swats against Suzanne's right bottom cheek. CRACK!...CRACK! Two more back-handed across both bottom cheeks deepened the color somewhat. Her breathing became heavier. She bit her lip. Still, she had not made a sound or even started to cry. Robert switched sides again. This time he did not hold back. CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!... Robert laid five vicious blows into the left side of Suzanne's bottom. He switched sides. CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!... Robert laid five backhand blows into Suzanne's right bottom cheek. She gasped with each swat. Her voice broke with the last three. Tears were running down her face. Robert was just starting to get to her. CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!... Robert laid three backhanded blows across both Suzanne's bottom cheeks. She began to cry quietly. Robert switched sides. CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!... Three more swats across both sides of her bottom. Suzanne sobbed quietly on the last one. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 07 Robert stopped to look at Suzanne. Her bottom was a deep pink, but not marked as badly as Amy's had been at this point in her punishment. Robert actually had been hitting Suzanne harder than he had hit Amy, but with less effect. She had been right about Amy not being up to the task of punishing her. Robert was stiff under his pants. The sight of this voluptuous, pink bottom in front of him... "Suzanne, spread your legs as much as you can for the next ones. The next swat's going to be on the base of your bottom." Suzanne managed to spread herself slightly. Robert lightly tapped the tender skin on the inside of her left bottom cheek, near the base...CRACK!... Suzanne jerked, and sobbed. CRACK!... Another swat in the same spot made her squeal with pain. CRACK!...CRACK!... Two back-handed swats on the inside of Suzanne's right bottom cheek seemed to finally start breaking her resistance. She started to cry more loudly. Robert moved to Suzanne's left side. He tapped the strap on the swollen left side of her bottom. CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!... Full force, he laid on five swats to her left bottom cheek Again he moved to her right side. CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!... Suzanne now was crying continuously. Her body shook with sobs. Purplish welts began to form. Robert was impressed with Suzanne's endurance. He actually was starting to get tired from swinging the strap. Still, her bottom was now in bad shape. The punishment was almost over. Robert decided to finish with five full-force swats to both bottom cheeks. CRACK!... Suzanne squealed. CRACK!... She screamed for the first time. CRACK!...a second scream. CRACK!...Suzanne now started to sob uncontrollably. Her knees began to shake. CRACK!... Robert stepped back and set the strap down. Suzanne's body jerked with sobs. This was by far the most painful experience that she had ever had, one that she would remember for a long time. Robert experienced a flashback to Amy's punishment, when it took every bit of effort to not unzip his pants and take her from behind. This time it was even more difficult because there was nothing girlish about Suzanne's voluptuous body. Her figure invited sex, not protection. "Stand up!" snapped Robert. Suzanne stood up and turned around, looking at Robert though her tears. She noticed the swell in his pants. The pain from her bottom intensified her emotions. She suddenly realized that she badly wanted him. Although Robert did not realize it, Suzanne had noticed his glances and longing expression over the summer. She had wondered why he never said anything to her. Now she wanted him to hold her. She threw herself into his arms. Robert was too shocked to react right away. Then the feel of having this young woman, one that he had wanted for such a long time, actually pressed up against him, brought back the old physical sensations. He moved his hands over her back, causing her to hug him all that much harder. For a long time Suzanne had her arms around Robert, as tears fell down her cheeks. As he would shortly find out, she had been through a lot in her short life. The pain that had built up inside her was coming out, first with her explosion at Amy, then with the feeling of needing Robert. At first the hug was one of gratitude and forgiveness, but suddenly Suzanne stepped back. Her emotional state and physical needs were starting to take control of her. She took Robert's hands in hers. She looked into his face, her eyes with a hungry, wild expression. It had been over a year for Robert since he had last been with anyone. The passion built up from a year of missing Tricia suddenly came out of him. He let go of Suzanne's hands and moved his hands to the sides of her face. He buried his mouth into hers. She reached for his belt and struggled to unlatch it. Robert's pants dropped to the floor, his erection freed from its cloth restraint. He struggled to step out of them as Suzanne wrapped her hand around his penis. She massaged his hair and balls. It felt so good. They dropped to the floor. At first Suzanne straddled Robert, pushing up his shirt. Suddenly he rolled her over on her back. The intense pain coming from her bottom as it pressed to the floor heightened her desire. Robert grabbed her hands and pushed them to the floor above her head. The feeling of Suzanne's helplessness exhilarated both of them. Robert pushed inside of her. She grunted faintly with each breath. Robert stayed hard after he came. He wanted to give her another orgasm and continued thrusting. Within seconds his efforts were rewarded, Suzanne let out a series of high pitched groans that differed from her normal voice. The passion did not fade with the end of their first lovemaking session. As Robert struggled to unbutton his shirt, Suzanne got up and bent over the table. She spread her legs and wiggled her red bottom mischievously. Robert was hard almost immediately. He squeezed her swollen bottom cheeks and moved his hands up her back. He grabbed her shoulders and again thrust inside of her. This time was even better. He took his time, enjoying the feel of Suzanne's body. Again she let out a series of high pitched groans. Sweat was pouring down their bodies when they finished. They calmed down enough to move to Robert's bedroom. They tore off the blankets from the bed. For a while they simply lay quietly, Suzanne happily in his arms. She started to teasingly touch him. Within a few minutes Robert was hard again. She got on her elbows and knees, her marked bottom on full display. Again he took her from behind. ---------- It was fortunate for everyone that Amy stayed asleep the whole time. Robert and Suzanne had forgotten all about her. They took a bath together in the Jacuzzi bathtub. They slept together for a little bit. Suzanne remembered that she was hungry from not having eaten breakfast, so they had a late lunch. They cleaned up the mess in the living room. Finally Robert decided to get dressed. Suzanne put on a robe. They sat on the sofa. Suzanne lay in Robert's arms, content to stay there quietly. Finally they heard Amy's door open. Suzanne jumped up. Amy had on the white terry-cloth robe that she had worn when she was staying here at the beginning of the year. She shyly walked out, not knowing what to expect from her roommate and her father's law partner. She was surprised to see Suzanne in a robe in Robert's apartment. Suzanne took Amy's hands in hers. She spoke immediately. "Amy, I treated you horribly this morning. I am so sorry. Please forgive me." Amy embraced her roommate. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 08 Chapter 8 - Robert's Ghosts Amy and Suzanne slowly walked back to Suzanne's car shortly after dark. Both of them were stiff from their punishments. Amy noted with amusement that Suzanne was much more careful about hitting the speed-bumps on the way back. Suzanne's cautious manner of driving had returned, and then some. When it became clear to Suzanne that Amy was perfectly willing to forgive her for her behavior in the morning, she seemed almost bubbly with happiness. On their way back Suzanne seemed to be happily lost in thought. For once she seemed to have something else on her mind besides her next photo shoot. It was strange for Amy to see Suzanne like this. Amy started to wonder what had gone on between Suzanne and Robert while she was asleep. ---------- Amy's problems with her history of economics class were not over. The make-up term paper loomed over her and Wendy. That night Amy e-mailed Burnside to ask her if she and Wendy could do a joint paper. Burnside surprised her by responding within a few minutes. "Have it your way. Remember that double the researchers means double the paper. Hope you know what you are doing. -Burnside-." Amy called Wendy with the news. They agreed that they needed to meet early the next morning. Amy then decided to have Wendy drive her to Robert's place to see what insight he could give them on choosing a topic. Amy and Wendy showed up at his apartment at 8:00. He delayed going to work to help them with their problem. He posed a question to Wendy that had never occurred to her, her family was in trade, why not research something related to her father's business? Robert's probing of Wendy's family history revealed that they had made most of their fortune selling supplies to the US Army during the Vietnam War. That's a coincidence; said Robert. Both his father and Amy's grandfather were lieutenant colonels in charge of buying supplies from Taiwan during their tours of duty. Robert pulled out a photo album and showed Amy and Wendy his father's Vietnam War pictures, which also included many photos of John's father. Most of the shots were of groups of US officers, but suddenly Wendy's face brightened. She pointed to a picture of Amy's grandfather and two other US officers posing with a group of Taiwanese businessmen. "That's my grandfather!" exclaimed Wendy as she pointed to one of the Chinese executives. Wendy grabbed the album and thumbed over the next several pages. She found two more group pictures that included her grandfather. It turned out that Amy and Wendy were linked in a way that neither could have imagined; their grandfathers had done business together. "Well, it looks like you two have your research topic. My Vietnam books are on those two shelves. There are a couple about the economic impact of the Vietnam War and some others on logistics. Amy, your grandfather's Army file is in that file cabinet, with your father's other papers. That'll get you started. I got to go. Make sure you lock up when you leave." After Robert left, Wendy pulled out her cell phone and called her uncle in Taipei. In Chinese she asked him to send her any information he had on her family's contacts with the US Army during the Vietnam War. Meanwhile, Amy started paging through Robert's books and her grandfather's military record. ---------- Amy's suspicions about her roommate and her father's friend intensified over the following weekend. Suzanne was gone and Robert was not picking up his phone. She did not know what to make of that. It was inevitable that Suzanne would find another boyfriend, and that Robert at some point needed to get over Tricia. But, Robert and Suzanne? What on earth did they have in common? Amy felt jealous, but she knew that she had no right to feel that way. Suzanne headed over Robert's place Friday night. She had missed him tremendously. She felt an excitement that she had rarely felt in her relationships. While it was true that he was almost twice her age, she had hopes that this relationship would be different from all the others. Suzanne's love of photography and the arts had come at a huge price, loneliness. Most of the men in the art department were self-centered, irresponsible, or both. Suzanne had gone through several relationships with guys from her department, none of which had given her any satisfaction. Suzanne knew that making a living off the arts was next to impossible for most people; that a career back-up was needed for any aspiring artist. Most of her male classmates seemed either not to realize that fact, or to care. Suzanne saw the same pattern in relationship after relationship; this guy is going to live off me if we stay together. As a result of her caution about choosing a partner, Suzanne had become unpopular among the men in the art department. One of her ex-boyfriends even tried to spread a rumor that Suzanne was gay. Robert was as different from her other boyfriends as Suzanne could imagine. He most certainly had his faults; his age, the ghost of his dead wife, his lack of any artistic taste, the fact that he seemed to think that he was right about everything. What made up for all that was that he was focused, he intensely cared about the other people in his life, and was more than willing to take the time needed to help others. Suzanne fell into Robert's arms as soon as she walked through his door. He had fixed her dinner, but that could wait. She was hungry for something else. She buried her mouth into his. She pressed her pelvis against Robert's. The reaction from him was immediate. He reached for the waistband of her skirt and pushed it off her hips to the floor. Suzanne suddenly made a strange sight, dressed in winter clothes from the waist up and nude from the waist down. She struggled with his pants and pushed them down past his knees. She grabbed his penis and massaged it, enjoying the feel of Robert's erection throbbing in her hand. Robert ran his hand between Suzanne's thighs and brushed it past her crotch. She was wet immediately. Robert pulled off his shirt. He pressed his nude body against Suzanne's coat. He ran his fingers into her hair and kissed her hard. Suddenly they were on the floor. Robert thrust hard, his sweat dripping onto Suzanne's coat. She dug her fingernails into his bottom, the pain just enough to excite him even more. Robert took his time, stretching his orgasm out as long as he could. This time was even better for him. When they finished, Suzanne suddenly started to laugh. "You know, we didn't even say hello to each other." That night, after another round of sex, Suzanne lay across Robert's lap. He took his time to enjoy the sight of Suzanne's bottom. He studied the marks remaining from her strapping a few days before, and gently ran his hand across her bottom cheeks. Suzanne enjoyed the feel of Robert's hand on her bottom. He pressed between her legs, teasing her. He traced her labia and bottom hole with the tips of his fingers. Suzanne closed her eyes, enjoying the intimacy Robert's touches. He took his time with her, a nice change from her last boyfriend. The next day, while Amy and Wendy buried themselves in the labyrinth of military purchases and economic development, Suzanne and Robert enjoyed their first full Saturday together. Robert allowed Suzanne to do most of the talking, since what he did as an attorney was hardly the stuff for romantic conversation. They went to several art galleries. Suzanne actually was able to make art interesting for Robert, a real accomplishment. A couple of the galleries had photo displays that included Suzanne's pictures of Amy. Robert had seen some of the pictures before, but it was interesting for him to hear Suzanne describe how the pictures were taken and what Amy had to do for the poses. After the galleries, Robert took Suzanne to his favorite restaurant, the one that over-looked Chicago. Suzanne's caution forced her to wonder about Tricia. When they returned to Robert's apartment, Suzanne walked over to Robert's desk to examine the items on top. From a large desk portrait, Tricia stared back at her. Suzanne picked up the picture, trying to read Tricia's personality by studying her eyes. Suzanne knew two things about Tricia. She had been killed by a drunk driver, and she had a wildness about her that made Robert think that he needed to keep a strap in his room. Suzanne needed to fill in the blanks, before committing herself any further to Robert. Robert sat down in the largest easy chair in the apartment, with Suzanne sitting on his lap. They sat in the dark, looking out his living room window. "Robert, I have to know about Tricia." Suzanne finally said. Reluctantly at first, Robert began the story. As he progressed, he loosened up and the details flowed out. ---------- Robert and Tricia had known each other since middle school. They started dating in the 9th grade. They broke up and got back together again several times over the next 10 years. Finally they got married, each convinced that they were made for each other, given the numerous break-ups and reconciliations. Tricia was addicted to alcohol. Robert was addicted to Tricia. He spent night after night helping her recover from her latest binge. Time after time Tricia apologized to Robert and promised to stop, but never managed to stay off alcohol for more than a few weeks. In a perverse way, her dependency fed his desire to take care of her. After 10 years of dating Tricia, and 5 years of being married to her, Robert watched his wife get drunk and then sick at a party at her boss's house. She threw up on a sofa, in front of 30 guests. That finally did it for Robert. He left immediately. How Tricia got home was not his problem. He packed up the clothes he would need and headed over to his office, where he had a sofa to sleep on and a bathroom with a shower. Tricia spent the next two months begging Robert to take her back. He had always taken her back before. They both knew that sooner or later he would take her back again. However, one night Robert decided that this time he would call the shots as to how they got back together. When Tricia got drunk, she would get punished. It would be that simple. Knowing that Tricia would call him that night and do her usual begging for him to take her back, Robert went to a couple of adult sex toy stores after work to look at something that would be effective to use on her. Finally he settled on a thick leather strap and a pair of leather cuffs that hooked together. That task accomplished, he went his office to wait for Tricia to call him. Sure enough, she called him within a half an hour. "I guess I'll come back tonight. From this point on there will be a condition if you want to stay with me." "Oh please, anything. I want to be with you. I've missed you so bad." She always said the same thing when they got back together. Robert was not sure if this would work, but he had tried everything else. She had gone for treatment three times. He could see no point in doing that again. Tricia was no better than she had been when Robert left her. He could smell that she had been drinking as soon as she rushed into his arms. Robert sighed. She was getting worse. She started sobbing as she gripped him. She spent the next hour sobbing as she held on to him. Finally he ordered her into the bathtub. He gave her a couple of glasses of water to help her flush out the latest round of drinks. Tricia was quiet when she got out and came into the bedroom. She seemed fine, but Robert knew this was all part of her pattern. "Don't bother to get dressed. You told me that you would do whatever it takes to have me back. Instead I show up here to see you drinking again. OK. I'm not going to take off again. We're going to do something else." With that he ordered her to sit down. He told her that she was not to get up from that chair. If she did he would leave and she would never see him again. Then, in the same way that he would cross-examine any other witness, he cross-examined his wife. Pacing the floor, Robert bore into Tricia. He started with the latest incident, which, he found out to his dismay, had resulted in the loss of her job. For hours, as she sat crying, Robert forced confession after confession out of his wife. He forced her to remember her worst binges in detail. He forced her to remember what she drank each time and how much. He forced her to remember all the times she threw up. He forced her to remember embarrassing incidents. He made her describe in her own words, the results of several of her binges. Then he returned to the latest incident. He forced her to describe the faces of her co-workers as her vomit spread across the sofa. She could not remember, so Robert filled in the awful details. Tricia was terrified, because she had never seen her husband like this. The truth was that Robert was acting; he had put on his lawyer's mask. But in the end he extracted from Tricia what he needed, a confession. "Tricia, explain to me why you have done all these things. You have a problem, and that problem has a name. What is it?" Tricia was still crying, but she had been crying so long that she was no longer sobbing. Robert repeated the question. "I drink too much." "You're close, but you haven't named your problem. I need the correct term, Tricia." "I...I'm an alcoholic." "What does that mean for our relationship?" "If...I don't...stop, you'll leave me." "Do you want to stop?" "I'll try." "There will be no 'trying", Tricia. Either you will stop, or you won't. Now answer the question. Do you want to stop?" "Yes Robert, I want to stop." "And how do you plan to stop?" Tricia started crying again. "I don't know. I need you to help me." "Well, here's the deal. I am going to make you pay for your drinking from now on. If you want to stay with me, when you drink, you will have a sore butt." Robert held up his strap. Tricia's eyes went wide with horror. "You can't do that to me. You don't have the right..." "You're free to go. You're free to tell me to take off. The choice is yours. You can drink, or you can stay with me. You can't do both. I told you that if you stay with me, it will be under a condition." Robert held out the strap in both hands. "This is the condition. Every time you drink..." Robert swatted the dresser hard. The loud crack against the wood made Tricia wince. "...you'll get it." "Robert...Please, I promise..." "Yeah-yeah-yeah. You promise. You promise. You always promise. Well, don't promise, because we both know how much your promises are worth!" She got up and tried to hug him. "I'm sorry." He pushed her away. "Tricia, you don't get it! It's always the same! You promise. You're sorry. So's the damn airlines! They're sorry too! But they never improve their service! Just like you never stop your drinking. Everyone is sorry. 'Sorry' has become just a lame excuse to not do anything! But now you are going to learn what 'sorry' really means. Don't move." Robert got a couple of hard pillows from the living room and stacked them on the bed. Tricia clasped her hands in front of her chest in anticipation and worry as she watched him. "I'm going to do this to you every time you drink. You'll need to get used to it. Or, you can get dressed and leave." Robert tapped the pillows and motioned his crying wife to lie across them, her bottom in high the air. She started to cry louder when he wrapped her wrists in the leather cuffs and hooked them together in front of her. Now she would have to keep her hands in front. She could not try to cover her bottom. Robert suddenly felt aroused seeing his wife's nude body draped over the pillows, her white bottom waiting to be marked. He had not expected that he would actually enjoy this. Tricia buried her head between her arms. She could not believe that her husband was actually doing this to her. Still, she realized that she had forced him into this situation. It was true that she had made his life a living hell for 15 years. In a way she actually respected him more at this moment. He had demonstrated that indeed he was not going to put up with this any more. Tricia had unconsciously held power over Robert by always coming back to him. Now with the threat of punishment every time she drank, the balance of power in the marriage suddenly shifted to his favor. Every time she drank, Tricia would be faced with a choice; leave, or take a punishment. Robert hit Tricia hard. A thick pink stripe immediately appeared across both of her bottom cheeks. Tricia screamed and rolled off the pillows. He hit her across the thighs. "That's fine. Butt or thighs, you'll get it either way." Tricia, sobbing, struggled to get back over the pillows. She managed to stay in place for the next four swats. He hit Tricia hard across both bottom cheeks. She screamed each time her husband struck her, and sobbed in between. Robert had to learn through trial and error how to punish effectively. He had not yet worked out the technique that he later used on Amy. However, what he lacked in technique he made up for in anger. There were 15 years of anger built up in him that came out in his strokes. Tricia again rolled off the pillows. "Robert! Please! I'm sorry!" She curled up on her back to protect the fronts of her thighs, but in doing so she again exposed her bottom, leaving it turned up and at a perfect angle for another hard swat. Robert swatted hard, marking the spot where Tricia's bottom ended and her thighs began. Tricia screamed again and flipped onto her stomach. "Robert! I'm sorry! Please!" "Sorry" was the worst thing that Tricia could say to Robert. She had been "sorry" for 15 years. He was sick of "sorry". He clamped his left hand on her back and slashed as hard as he could with the strap in his right hand. In spite of the inconvenient position, Robert took out 15 years of resentment over Tricia's behavior in his next series of swats against her bottom. She clenched her bottom cheeks hard, which seemed to reduce the effectiveness of the strap. Suddenly Robert stopped. "Tricia, put your legs over the side of the bed! I'll show you sorry!" Crying, Tricia managed to throw her legs over the bed. She put her cuffed hands close to her forehead and sobbed. "SORRY!" screamed Robert as he laid the next swat hard against Tricia's bottom. This time Tricia struggled to stay in position for him. "SORRY!" he screamed again. He laid on another hard swat. "YOU'RE SORRY!" CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!... He hit her hard with three rapid strokes. "You're..." CRACK "...always..." CRACK "...SORRY!" CRACK....CRACK! Robert ended the punishment and left her crying for a few minutes. Finally he helped her up. She was sobbing and shaking, but she threw her cuffed hands over Robert's head and hugged him. His anger turned into passion. He motioned Tricia to get on her knees and elbows on the bed. He pulled off his own clothes. The sight of the marks on Tricia's bottom excited him in a way that she had never excited him before. He grabbed her thighs and thrust hard into to her. Tricia's sobs mixed with groans of pleasure. She had her first orgasm in months. Afterwards they lay together, their arms around each other, Tricia still in her handcuffs. She seemed relaxed in a way that Robert had not noticed before. Finally he took off the handcuffs. Tricia rolled on her back and held her arms out to him. Robert was aroused at the sight of her. They made love yet again. The marriage changed after Robert started strapping Tricia. She still had episodes of drinking, but they became fewer and farther between. Tricia could count on a severe strapping whenever she drank. Robert improved his technique over time, making the punishments longer and more painful. Tricia found that, as much as she feared being punished, she was always extremely aroused afterwards. Her best sessions of sex with her husband were always after a strapping. As much as she dreaded the strappings, she loved the sex that followed. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 08 Robert approached his wife's boss to ask him to help her get another job. The response from Tricia's boss surprised him. "I am changing departments two weeks from now. I can take her back then, if she gets some counseling. Tell her to turn in an application." Tricia's boss continued "I didn't want to fire her, but, you see, I couldn't just let her throw up on my sofa in front of 30 of my employees and not do anything about it. Tricia's actually a good worker. I fired her because I had to for the morale of the others, not because I wanted to. I'll take her back when I transfer, because there won't be anyone from my old department in my new one." Eight more years passed. Finally Tricia went for alcohol counseling and was serious about it this time. The punishments became more sexual, since the original reason for them disappeared. Tricia discovered that she was a masochist, which was part of the reason she drank. She enjoyed the pain and humiliation of being strapped, which over time replaced the pain and humiliation of binge drinking and getting sick. She was able to accept that part of herself and enjoy it with her husband. Robert's anger with Tricia faded. They started to travel and have fun as a couple. They had passionate sex, at the cost of welts on Tricia's bottom. They had eight good years together. The Tricia of the final years was the Tricia that Amy saw and remembered as a young teenager. It was ironic that Tricia's life was cut short by a drunk driver. Robert felt that it was fortunate that the drunk driver was killed in the accident as well; usually that does not happen. The loss devastated him. Tricia had been a good partner for him over the last eight years. They had even been thinking about having a child, since Tricia had been completely clean for a long time. The morgue revealed that she was two months pregnant. There was a prenatal care book in her purse. Robert closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the easy chair. This was the first time he had been able to talk about Tricia to anyone since she died. Suzanne said nothing. She realized that Robert needed a few minutes of silence to recompose himself. She realized the responsibility she had assumed by getting him to talk about Tricia Her thoughts went back to the picture on the desk. It must have been taken after the change in the marriage, she reflected. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 09 Chapter 9 - Suzanne's Ghosts Amy and Wendy were together constantly until November 10, putting in grueling 16 hour days in their push to get the make-up term paper done on time. They realized how much they complimented each other doing research. Amy was excellent at writing, but bad at math. Wendy breezed through anything having to do with equations, but left the writing to Amy. They both found their topic extremely interesting, escaping into the era of their grandfathers. Amy learned much about Asia, while Wendy came to a better understanding of what happened to the US during the Vietnam War. Without each other, their research would have gone nowhere. This time the closest they came to cheating was simply to have Robert and Suzanne look over the paper for mistakes, the night before turning it in. On a last minute inspiration Amy scanned one of the photos of her grandfather with Wendy's and added the scan to the beginning of the report. Two days later, Burnside called Amy and Wendy into her office. She said nothing at first, but then handed the paper back to them. Amy looked at Burnside's comments and passed the copy to Wendy. On the cover Burnside had written... "Excellent research. Masterfully written paper. You brought to life an interesting topic not examined enough by economists. Theoretical analysis needs better incorporation of material covered in class. Outside research partly makes up for that. 93% A-" Burnside looked at her two students. "You got the second highest grade in the class. I never give an 'A' unless I learn something from a paper turned into me. Now, why didn't you do this two weeks ago?" "We didn't know each other. We didn't know about our grandfathers either." Amy responded. Amy left Burnside's office with a sudden understanding about herself. The experience of writing the paper made Amy realize that she actually liked economics. If she could get over her fear of math, she felt that she might have found her field of study. That night she thumbed through a couple of old course catalogues to start thinking about what to take for the Spring semester. ---------- Once she was done with Burnside's paper, Amy had other worries. The year anniversary of Courtney's death was coming up. Courtney had been a demon haunting her over the last year. Amy decided that she needed to face it head on. She told Suzanne that she wanted to go to Detroit. Suzanne had doubts about the idea, but she understood. If Amy wanted to go to Detroit, Amy would go. Suzanne also knew that she would have to drive her roommate there. Amy would need someone with her. Amy's personality changed during the days leading up to her personal pilgrimage. She became quiet and sullen. There was deep sadness in her face that Suzanne had not seen since the week before Spring Break. Amy was stepping back into her own past and was scared. Well before sunrise on the dreaded day Amy pulled out her old street clothes and put them on. Suzanne was shocked when Amy came out of her room. She looked like a bum. "This is what I had on a year ago. I wore these clothes almost three months straight without taking them off. I need you to bring a camera. Let's go." They had a silent, grim drive to Detroit. They started out well before sunrise and were in Detroit by mid day. Amy spent the entire trip quietly staring out her window while Suzanne drove. First they passed the rustbelt cities of Gary and Hammond, then they continued across the bleak, frozen countryside of southern Michigan. There was no music from the radio, no conversation, nothing to break up the drive except a stop for gas. Suzanne wondered about the camera. If Amy wanted to take pictures of the spot where her friend died, that was just plain sick. Once in Detroit, Suzanne found a parking garage close to the bus station. She was terrified of all the creeps standing around and staring at them as they made their way past the station. She also was worried about the fact that she was carrying a camera worth several hundred dollars, and that she and Amy were two young white women alone in a hostile city. The only thing Suzanne and her friend had in their favor was that it was extremely cold, keeping most of the bad types indoors. Amy was not dressed warmly enough, Suzanne thought. Amy seemed not to notice any of her roommate's concerns. With a quiet, mechanical way of walking, she made her way along the unpleasant streets, Suzanne struggling to keep up. Amy suddenly turned off the sidewalk and walked between two buildings. Suzanne quickly looked in both directions to see who might follow them in, then went in after Amy. The ally opened up into a bleak courtyard with two dumpsters. Amy quickly walked behind the closest dumpster and stopped. She stood there, without moving, for what seemed forever to Suzanne. Suzanne stood back, terrified. She was worried about what might be happening to her friend, as well as concerned about who might follow them into the ally. Amy's silence scared her the most. Finally Amy turned around. "Come over here. Take my picture." Suzanne walked over to Amy. The forlorn young woman, with her hands in her pockets, stared straight at her. Her face was discolored by the cold. Amy's eyes had an expression of anguish that Suzanne had not seen before. It would make one hell of a portrait, but it would be pure exploitation to put that on film. "Look...I mean, I can't take a picture of you like this." "Do it! All year long you've been trying to figure out who I am with that camera. This is who I am. Take the picture!" Reluctantly Suzanne adjusted her lens and snapped three photos. "Amy, this is who you were for a day! One day! It's not who you are now. Don't you understand, you have to put this behind you! You didn't kill Courtney!" Suzanne tried to hug Amy. Suddenly Amy broke away from her friend. She leaned her elbows up against the wall next to the dumpster and buried her face into her arms. Her body shook with sobs. "NO!" She sank to her knees. She sobbed louder, "NO!" Amy, on her knees, collapsed with her side against the wall. She sobbed continuously. Suzanne had no idea how to handle Amy in this situation. Part of her told her that her friend had to be given time to cry it out. Another part of Suzanne made her continuously glance at the entrance to the street, still wondering who would be coming in. She could not get out of her head the idea that she and Amy were in danger staying here. Amy was not showing any sign of recovering. She remained crumpled up against the wall, sobbing. Finally Suzanne decided that she had to drive home the point that Amy was not responsible for Courtney's death. She knelt next to Amy and took her hands. "Amy, you did not kill Courtney. You need to say it! Please, Amy! You did not kill Courtney!" Amy looked up at Suzanne. "Amy, say it!" "I didn't kill her..." mumbled Amy. Suzanne sighed with relief. "Amy, say it again!" Amy sobbed. "I didn't kill her!...It wasn't my fault!" Finally Amy managed to stop crying. For several minutes she knelt quietly and simply stared at the filthy pavement. At last she got up. She hugged Suzanne. "I'm sorry I put you through this." "Amy, I'm your friend. You don't have to be sorry about anything." Amy and Suzanne walked out of the ally and back onto the street. They made their way back to Suzanne's car for the long drive back. Amy was just as quiet going back, but there was a difference. Suzanne realized that Amy had achieved her goal in traveling to Detroit. She had managed to purge whatever it was that had tormented her over the past year. It was dark by the time they returned to Chicago. Amy asked Suzanne to drive her to the Fast-Mart where she had been arrested. She wanted to see it as well, on this day of facing her memories. To her shock, it was gone, replaced with a car wash. Life does go on, thought Amy, whether we want it to or not. ---------- Suzanne was relieved to find out that Wendy was coming over to the apartment that night to help Amy with the latest chapter in Burnside's textbook. Suzanne desperately wanted to spend time with Robert and talk to him about the Detroit trip, but she would not have wanted to leave Amy alone in the apartment after what she had just gone through. More importantly, Suzanne had her own issue to discuss with Robert, that of her own father, Robert's partner Ed. Suzanne's final break with her father had come only two days before her trip to Detroit with Amy. Suzanne had not said anything to Amy about her father, knowing that Amy was burdened enough with her own situation. Suzanne was deeply hurt, but she forced herself to defer her own pain to help Amy get past the Detroit trip. Suzanne had made a huge sacrifice for Amy by putting off her own problem, one that Amy would never know about. Once she was sure that Amy would not be alone that night, Suzanne rushed over to Robert's apartment. Talking about Amy was easy enough. Robert had not known about the Detroit trip. Had he known, he would have wanted to take Amy. Suzanne disagreed. "She needed me. I'm not sure she could have opened up to you. All I can say is I'm glad it's over with." Suzanne was unsure how to continue. She walked over to Robert's window. For a long time she stared out at the city. Finally, without looking at him, she said, "It looks like I'll be spending Thanksgiving with you after all." After a long pause, she opened with a question. "Robert, what do you think of my father?" He paused for a moment, because he did not have much good to say about Ed Foster. Robert's partner was under investigation for several ethics violations and was at risk of losing his ability to practice law in Illinois. Ed's problems threatened to taint Robert and the other two partners in the office. How to tell that to Suzanne? Robert realized that she might as well know now. She was quiet for a few minutes when he broke the news. "I guess you'd expect me to be upset." Suzanne began. "I'm not, really. I feel bad about how it will affect my step-mother, that's about it." Finally Suzanne was able to tell Robert her story. Robert did not have much good to say about Ed. Suzanne did not have anything good to say about him. Suzanne's relationship with her father was somewhat distant, but fairly normal until she was eleven. That year, her parents divorced and her mother suddenly left, not giving the girl a clue as to where she was going or how to get in touch with her. With her mother gone, Suzanne noticed an immediate change in her father's behavior toward her. Suddenly she felt that her father could not stand the sight of her. Two days after her mother disappeared, Ed called Suzanne into his den and gave her an hour lecture about her faults and bad behavior. In the same way that he would cross-examine a witness, he berated his terrified daughter. Suzanne spent hours crying afterwards. She had never seen her father like this. The lecture was the beginning of three very unhappy years for Suzanne. Three days later Suzanne left some dishes in the sink and went upstairs to do her homework. She forgot about the dishes until about a half an hour later, when her father came storming into her room. "GET INTO MY DEN, NOW!" Suzanne's father slapped her hard across the face as she passed him. The shock of being hit disoriented her. Ed suddenly grabbed her and shook her hard. "YOU DON'T OBEY ME! I'll teach you!" Suzanne was terrified. She had never been so scared in her life. She stumbled down the stairs. Her father's next orders terrified her even more. For the first time Suzanne took down her jeans and bent over her father's desk. He took off his belt, and for an hour berated Suzanne, punctuating his speech with swats of the belt. The eleven-year old was so shocked that she had trouble breathing. It was only afterwards that Suzanne could pull herself together enough even to cry. She couldn't figure out what had happened to her father. He had never behaved this way before her mother left. It would not be until much later that she would realize that it was actually her mother that Ed wanted to punish. Ed was furious about having been abandoned by his wife. Suzanne would never know where her mother went or why she left, but it was the daughter who remained behind to pay for her actions. Suzanne had the misfortune of looking like her mother. Ed, in his rage at his wife, seemed not to be able to tell the difference. Suzanne paused. She turned from the window to face Robert. "Now you know why I wanted to punish Amy when she got caught with that term paper. It wasn't just the plagiarism. I was replaying what my father did to me. I wanted to punish her like he punished me. That's the reason I felt so bad about it after we talked in the street. You only knew part of the story when I asked you to strap me." The punishments went on for three years. Ed quickly re-married, to a woman who was not exactly loving, but who felt sorry for Suzanne and did her best to comfort her. The sessions disgusted the woman, but she did not know what to do about the situation, other than to comfort the girl afterwards. Ed graduated from his belt to a paddle. He was smart enough to know that belt marks could raise the issue of abuse if seen by a teacher, so he bought a paddle that did not leave much in the way of bruises. Ed seemed to delight more in humiliating Suzanne than in actually hitting her. He always hit her over her panties. Later in her life Suzanne quit wearing underwear, largely because the sight of panties always reminded her of the hours spent in her father's den. She even hated seeing Amy's lingerie catalogs in her mailbox. Time went on. Suzanne slowly came to realize that she did not deserve what was happening to her. She had done nothing wrong. It was her father who was bad, not her. She never talked to anyone about what was going on in her father's den, but even at her young age she had the ability to perceive the truth about people and situations, a trait that would later help her as a photographer. During the sessions in the last months before her 14th birthday, she repeated over and over in her mind "I don't deserve this...I don't deserve this." She forced herself to stop crying during the paddlings. Then, as abruptly as the punishments began, they stopped. There never was any discussion about what was going on or any explanation, but she bent over her father's desk for the last time just before her 14th birthday. For years afterwards she silently lived in dread of another punishment, but after she turned 14 Suzanne never again felt her father's paddle. Still, her problems did not end. The physical torment had stopped, only to be replaced by constant verbal abuse. All through high school Suzanne never seemed to be able to do anything right for her father. He cut her down no matter what she attempted to do, no matter how good she was at what she set out to achieve. The yearbook was a joke to him. Suzanne never took her friends home and went to great lengths to not let her father find out who they were. When she dated, it was in secret, because Suzanne knew that her father would do his best to humiliate her in front of any boyfriend. During her bleak high-school years Suzanne found her escape though taking pictures with a vintage 35-millimeter camera. She learned how to capture moments in life, the power of an expression, of the unspoken word. Her school had a journalism class that published the school yearbook. Suzanne joined the class and quickly became the yearbook photographer. She could see her classmates in a way that no one else could. During the three years she photographed for the yearbook, her class received commendations for the quality of its yearbook pictures. Suzanne, at an early age, had found a focus in her life. Even though Suzanne graduated in the top 5% of her class, her father tried to convince her teachers and counselors that she was no good as student. The counselors, used to dealing with students who refused to study and meet their parents' expectations, had to deal with the opposite in the case of Suzanne, an excellent student with a father who wanted her to fail. No one could understand Ed's attitude. Three of Suzanne's teachers, with her counselor and a vice-principle, knowing Suzanne's personal situation, had gone out of their way to obtain a series of grants and scholarships that would pay for her first year of college. Without their help, Suzanne would have not gone to college at all. When she graduated from high school her father had said "I don't see what the point of spending the money is, Suzanne will never amount to anything." They had very little contact while Suzanne was in college. Ed took only a marginal interest in his daughter, and that only because of the prodding by her step-mother. He did give her some spending money, but that was only because her step-mother insisted. He seemed to be glad to have her out of his life. It was as a favor to Robert, not to Suzanne, that he mentioned his daughter when Robert had discussed the need to find a place to live for Amy. Suzanne did not give up easily. She desperately wanted to prove herself to her father. With a book of her own, pictures published in two national magazines, several local prizes, and permanent contracts with several galleries, She had hopes that she could convince Ed that she was successful after all, perhaps in a field that her father did not approve of, but a success nevertheless. She had hopes that her father would finally accept her and dreamt of a Thanksgiving with her family. Suzanne should have known better. Her father briefly looked through her portfolio and commendations, and tossed them aside with contempt. "So you do pornography. That's what you wanted to show me? Of course you're successful, everyone in your business is. Don't expect me to pat you on the back, however. I find it pretty pathetic that's all you could do with your life." That did it. After all these years she had enough. She picked up her portfolio. "I don't know what your problem is! You are the most sick, disgusting person I have ever known! I tried to be a good daughter to you. I really tried! I don't know why, but I kept trying! But that's it! You won't be seeing me anymore!" Suddenly the last twelve years of anger came out of Suzanne. She spit in her father's face. He was so shocked that he did not have time to react before Suzanne charged out of the room. Suzanne fled her father's house and the contamination he had inflicted on her. She drove off, angry at herself for all the effort that she had wasted on trying to get her father to accept her. Her father could rot in Hell. At first she felt exhilarated over have made such a dramatic break with her father. Spitting on him. She could not have done much better than that. But then the unfairness of her life sank in. Why had her father been so rotten to her all her life? Why had he gone out of his way to try to make her fail? She had to talk, not to Amy, but to the one person whom she felt that she could truly open up to, Robert. Having to wait for three days was torture for Suzanne, but she had been determined to do what she could for Amy before taking care of herself. Suzanne spent a long time staring out the window after she finished telling Robert about her father. This time it was Robert's turn to stay quiet until Suzanne was ready to talk again. He felt an enormous hatred towards Ed. As he sat in the dark, looking at the unhappy young woman standing at his window, Robert resolved to do what he could to help the investigation against Ed, even if it ran the risk of harming himself and the other two partners. He wanted Ed out of his life as fast as possible. He had some phone calls to make tomorrow. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 10 Chapter 10 - Photo Shoot Robert, Amy, and Suzanne spent Thanksgiving together. Robert and Suzanne tried, not very successfully, to conceal their relationship from Amy. It didn't matter, Amy had it figured out within a few days after Suzanne and Robert fell for each other. She still did not understand what on earth Suzanne had in common with her father's law partner. That Thanksgiving was special for each of them, given that each had spent the previous Thanksgiving alone. Amy had spent her Thanksgiving in a daze on a bus, Robert spent his having dinner alone, and Suzanne spent hers alone in her apartment developing photos. None of them could have anticipated the strange turn of events that would bring them together a year later. ---------- Amy's friendship with Wendy developed throughout November and December. They went out to a couple of times to movies and met for lunch or coffee almost daily. They liked the same music and planned for concerts they wanted to attend over the next few months. For Amy, having a person in her life with who she could share her interest in music was a nice change from Suzanne, who mostly listened to European New Age or Classical music. During the days immediately following Burnside's party Amy and Wendy pulled down their jeans to study each other's welts whenever they met to work on their paper. They had a fascination with the experience they had endured together, and studying the marks as they slowly faded became part of that shared experience. Wendy was simply curious to see how long it would take Amy's bottom to heal. Amy, however was fascinated by Wendy's bottom as well as by the welts from Burnside's switch. Wendy had been more severely marked than Amy during her punishment because Burnside had hit her harder, and also because her skin was more delicate. On the first day they got together to study at Amy's apartment, Wendy lay on Amy's bed with her jeans and underwear around her ankles, while Amy put lotion on Wendy's welts. Amy was fascinated in tracing the marks on Wendy's bottom with her fingertips as she gently spread the lotion. Wendy, still traumatized by her experience in Burnside's house, was content to just lie there and let Amy do what she wanted. As Wendy's welts faded and her soft brown skin recovered, Amy remembered how fascinated she was watching the beginning of her friend's punishment, seeing her bent over, that smooth flesh on her bottom stretched tight as she waited for the first stroke of Burnside's switch. Amy had a guilty fantasy; she badly wanted to punish Wendy herself. She remembered a time in high school that she and Courtney had tried spanking each other and how much fun it had been. Amy wanted to have a similar experience with Wendy, nothing severe, but some nice sharp smacks on that soft petite bottom of Wendy's. Amy figured that it was just a fantasy, since she would have a hard time finding a reason that would convince Wendy to submit to a punishment. Amy's fascination with her friend's body increased the week after Thanksgiving, when Wendy realized that Suzanne knew how to give massages. As her photography took off, Suzanne had slowly reduced her massage schedule, but she still had a few regular clients. Wendy badly wanted a capable massage therapist, and offered herself to Suzanne as a model in exchange for massages. Suzanne gladly accepted the arrangement. Within minutes Suzanne had some backdrops put up on one side of the spare room and Wendy had her clothes off, waiting for the photographer's instructions. As Amy helped her roommate put the lighting in place she could not keep herself from continuously glancing over at Wendy. The photo shoot itself was brief, since Suzanne only intended to test the lighting on Wendy's body. The only pictures she planned to use would be a couple of portraits of Wendy's face. For the figure studies she called to reserve a studio at the art department for a more serious shoot for the next day. Once Suzanne put down her cameras Wendy lay face-up on the massage table. Amy watched as Suzanne calmly spread massage oil on her friend's dark skin. She worked from the feet up to her neck, then finished with Wendy's arms and shoulders before having her turn over. When Suzanne started massaging Wendy's bottom, kneading and pressing the soft flesh and the muscles underneath, Amy's imagination was fired. She felt her heart pounding in her throat when Suzanne finished the massage by lightly slapping Wendy's skin. Suzanne was too involved in her work to notice Amy's expression, which was lucky for Amy. Had Suzanne realized what her roommate was thinking, she would have ordered her out of the room. The next day Suzanne and Amy prepared the lighting and selected backdrops for the studio at the art department. Suzanne had all of her cameras with her and an assortment of tripods and flashes. Wendy arrived in a sweatsuit with nothing underneath, following Suzanne's instructions to avoid pressure marks from underwear or other tight-fitting clothing. She stripped and stepped into the center of the room. Suzanne shot roll after roll of film in different lighting arrangements. She learned to her great pleasure that her new model had been a gymnast as a teenager, and still had incredible flexibility in her body that Amy did not have. Suzanne was able to experiment with Wendy on poses totally different from the ones she had taken of Amy. There would be pictures out of this shoot that would sell for sure, thought Suzanne. Suzanne realized that Amy and Wendy were the same height and had the same build, the only difference being that Amy's hips were slightly wider and her breasts had a slightly different shape. The similarity between Amy and Wendy gave the photographer an idea. She decided to do another shoot the next day with Wendy and Amy together. They would shave their pubic hair and have the same hairstyle, which would make the two models almost mirror images of each other. Amy and Wendy agreed immediately and took off to Wendy's hairdresser to agree on a hairstyle and cut. Suzanne decided that not all of the photos of Amy and Wendy would be figure shots. That evening the three women went to various clothing stores to buy matching outfits, ranging from business attire, to formal dresses, to leather jackets, to jean clothing. Suzanne and her models spent an entire day in the studio. They put on different clothes, posed nude together, posed topless, posed bottomless, posed one nude and the other fully clothed. They took opposite sides of each other and mirrored each other's movements. The shots were excellent and many of them would be marketable. Suzanne was very pleased with both of her models. However, as the day went on Suzanne began to see much greater potential in the shoot. She decided that she wanted more from Amy and Wendy. She wanted their faces to come alive with intense emotion. She wanted the shoot to be a real experience. She wanted to experiment with her two models and do something really on the edge. Suzanne decided to reserve the studio for a third day and ask the two young women to give her another day out of their lives. "Tomorrow I want to do something really intense. We have some excellent energy going here and I want to take you two to your limits." Suzanne was all business now. Amy and Wendy nerved themselves for what promised to be a difficult, but interesting day. That evening, Suzanne still did not know exactly what she wanted from Amy and Wendy. She randomly developed several pictures from the first shoot of Amy and Wendy together to see if she could get any ideas from the pictures taken so far. One picture she developed was of Wendy and Amy taken from the back. They were wearing nothing but matching jean jackets and sneakers. They were holding hands, but at the same time pulling away from each other. The muscles in their legs and bottoms showed the tension. Suzanne studied their expressions, then their bottoms. Suddenly she had an idea. Had Amy and Wendy been spanked, had their bottoms been pink and their faces reflecting the emotion of just having been punished, this picture would have been shocking indeed. Suzanne decided that what she really wanted to do for the next day was to spank Amy and Wendy during the photo shoot. There was no question that punishment would give Amy and Wendy the intensity of emotion that Suzanne wanted. She remembered the effect that paddling had on Amy during the exercise photo-shoot in June. She approached her roommate with the idea. At first Amy objected. "Uh, I still don't get it. Why do you want to punish us? We didn't do anything!" "Amy, it's not about punishment. It's about the intensity of your experience in the studio. I want everything from you. I want all of your emotion to come out in those pictures. I want to see the fear and nervousness in your eyes come through. I want you to be scared about not knowing what's going to happen next. I want the pain and passion of your day tomorrow to jump right out at the viewer." Suzanne was dead serious. Amy knew that she was on to something. Her heart pounded. "What are you going to use on us?" "I still have my father's old paddle, the one I used on you in June. I'll use that." Suzanne looked at her roommate. Amy's face was full of concern and worry. Suzanne put her hand on Amy's arm. "It would really mean a lot to me if you and Wendy could do this. I know it's a lot to ask, especially of Wendy." Amy sighed. "OK, I'll do it. I'll talk to Wendy and try to get her to go along as well. I need you to take me over to her place and drop me off. I need to explain this to her in person." Wendy was surprised to see Amy at her door. As soon as Wendy closed the door behind her Amy began: "I need to talk to you about the photo shoot tomorrow. It's going to be pretty rough." "I gathered that. What does Suzanne have in mind?" "She wants to paddle us." "WHAT?! Why? Is she mad at us?" "No, not at all. Actually she was real happy with our work today. So much so that she wants to take it further. It took me a while to figure out what she wants. The way I understand it is that she thinks we are on the edge of something really...exciting, I guess. She thinks that if she can somehow give us an extra push of emotion her pictures will really be something special." Wendy shook her head. "No way. I don't want to...It's too much for her to ask." Amy paused. She had her doubts as well. She put them aside and defended her roommate. "Suzanne is a good photographer. She knows what she's doing. I know that she wouldn't ask us to do this for her unless she had a really good reason." Wendy sighed. "Amy, what exactly did you tell her?" "I told her that I would do it, and that I would talk to you about it. Look, I'm nervous too. The only thing that I can tell you is that she used that paddle on me back in June. It hurts, but it's not as bad as what we got from Burnside." Wendy was silent for a long time. Finally she sighed again and looked at Amy nervously. "Alright. I just hope it's worth it." ---------- The next day Suzanne, loaded down with her photographic equipment, led her two models, who were loaded down with suitcases of clothing, back into the art department studio for a third day of shooting. She quickly turned up the heat in the studio and started laying out her supplies and cameras. She snapped at Amy and Wendy to unpack their suitcases and systematically lay out their clothing for quick changes. Suzanne became a different person during a photo shoot, especially one in a studio. Amy was amazed that the dominating, no-nonsense photographer in the art department was the same person who just a few days before had driven her to Detroit and knelt with her in an ally. Suzanne decided to use a white backdrop for most of the photos. She planned to experiment with other colors and designs, but would mostly stick with white. She checked the other backdrops, then turned her attention to the lighting. Amy and Wendy, wearing sweatsuits, stood together watching Suzanne move about the room. Suzanne suddenly left the studio and returned with a small wooden stool. She reached in her camera bag and pulled out the paddle. She placed it on the stool. Amy and Wendy exchanged glances. Both were visibly nervous. Suzanne turned to face her two models "OK. Wendy, Amy, drop your sweats and move to the center of the room." Amy and Wendy complied. The nervous tension in their eyes pleased the photographer; this was what she wanted. She shot a couple of close-up shots of her models' faces, then backed off for the poses. The close-up shots would work for sure, thought Suzanne. There was an intensity in the eyes of her subjects that was lacking the previous day. Suddenly Suzanne ordered Amy and Wendy to the stool. "Wendy, pick up the paddle. Look at me." Suzanne took another series of close-up portraits of Wendy. "Wendy, hand the paddle to Amy, put your hands on the stool and spread your feet a little. Please try not to cry." Suzanne snapped more pictures of Wendy once she was in position. Wendy looked back at Suzanne with a sad, nervous expression. Amy suddenly felt incredibly aroused, seeing Wendy's body once again bent over for punishment. Suzanne took the paddle from Amy, and swatted Wendy hard 10 times. The loud pops reverberated in the room. "Amy, your turn." Wendy's eyes had tears in them, but she managed not to cry as she stepped aside for Amy. Amy placed her hands on the stool. "Amy, look back at me." Suzanne's camera snapped a couple of times. Suddenly Amy felt the sharp sting of the first swat. Amy bit her lip against the pain. Like Wendy, Suzanne swatted her hard 10 times. Suzanne snapped two pictures of Amy still bent over. Quickly Suzanne ordered Wendy and Amy back to the center of the room, for a long series of dual poses. She had been right, there was an intensity of emotion that was not in the pictures from yesterday. Suzanne knew that the pink color on Amy's bottom and the pinkish tone on the brown skin of Wendy's bottom would add shock value to the pictures. Suzanne was now ready to re-do the jean jacket shots. She ordered Wendy and Amy back to the stool. She wanted more color on her models' bottoms for the next series. The two girls exchanged a glance of nervousness and fear that Suzanne just happened to catch with her camera. Once again, Wendy took 15 hard swats on her bottom. This time it was even harder for her not to cry, but she managed to stay quiet. It was Amy's turn. Again came the sharp sting. It was worse this time, having the 15 new swats laid on top of the first 10. Quickly Suzanne ordered Amy and Wendy to get their jean jackets and tennis shoes on. She re-posed all the shots from the previous day with the jackets, including the one that gave her this idea in the first place. As Amy and Wendy pulled against each other, their teary eyes and nervous faces, as well as their pink bottoms, exhilarated Suzanne. She ordered her models to clasp their hands and press together, front to front and stare straight into the camera. Amy felt Wendy's bare thighs against her own. Suddenly Suzanne ordered the models to put on their matching business outfits. As Amy and Wendy posed fully dressed the only evidence of their pain and emotional turmoil was in their faces, but it was clearly present. Suzanne then ordered Amy to strip again but for Wendy to stay dressed. She handed the paddle to Wendy and ordered Amy to move to the center of the room and to bend over with her hands on her ankles. She positioned Wendy and took a couple of preliminary shots from different angles. "Wendy, I want you to start paddling Amy. Go slowly and take your time between the swats. Amy, please keep your eyes on me." Wendy hit Amy almost as hard as Suzanne had, laying a third set of paddle swats on top of the first two sets. This time the stinging was almost unbearable. Amy struggled not to cry. Suzanne was fired up, taking pictures with two different cameras. She did not tell Wendy to stop paddling until Amy had taken 20 hard swats. It took all of Amy's internal strength to stay quiet. Suzanne quickly switched rolls of film. "Amy, Wendy, stand face to face. Hold hands and look at me." Tears were rolling down Amy's cheeks. They both looked into Suzanne's camera. Suzanne took several shots. "Put your arms around each other. Hug and make up." Amy's face, full of tears, came closer to Wendy's intense wide-eyed expression. Suzanne snapped some close up portraits then stepped back to snap some shots of the contrast between Amy's naked body and Wendy's business attire. Suzanne then ordered Wendy to change into a formal dress for another set of poses with Amy still naked. Suzanne re-took all the pictures with Wendy dressed differently. The dress gave the new pictures an entirely different mood than the ones with the business suit. Suzanne had Wendy change yet again, this time into jeans and a leather jacket. She re-took all the poses yet again in this new variation of Wendy's attire. Suzanne moved a wooden chair into the center of the room. She ordered Wendy to sit down and Amy to go across Wendy's lap. She switched to a high-speed camera. "Start spanking Amy. Put some force into it." Once again loud slaps rang through the studio. Suzanne quickly moved about her two models, taking dozens of pictures. Amy struggled yet again not to cry. Wendy was not showing her any mercy, which of course, was what Suzanne wanted. Wendy had become as enthralled with the session as had Suzanne. Wendy was not spanking Amy full force, but instead with calculated precision to maximize the effectiveness of the swats. Wendy's eyes met Suzanne's camera. Suzanne had found her moment with her model. She took several close-up shots of the intense expression in Wendy's face. Reluctantly Suzanne broke the spell with Wendy. She ordered Wendy to let Amy up. Wendy stopped spanking Amy, although it was clear that she wanted to continue. Amy struggled to her feet, trying with all her effort not to cry. Through her teary eyes Amy gave Wendy a hurt look, which Suzanne was able to capture on film. Suzanne handed Amy her jean jacket. With trembling hands Amy managed to put it on and close the buttons. Suzanne ordered Amy to turn her back to the camera but then look over her shoulder. Amy's red bottom contrasted with the dark blue denim of the jacket. Amy was still hurt that Wendy could have spanked her so hard over the three paddlings she had already received. That hurt in her eyes became the focus of the next series of shots. Suzanne had found her moment with Amy. Suzanne shot a couple more rolls of film on facial and figure shots of Amy and Wendy, but she already had what she wanted. She briefly thought about having Wendy and Amy switch places, but she realized that the moment to do that had passed and that the shots would not be as good as the ones she already had taken. Thus Wendy was spared any further punishment and Amy never got the chance that day to get even with her. ---------- While Amy and Wendy studied for their finals, Suzanne spent days in the darkroom developing the photos. These were good, she thought. Suzanne had been pleased with the pictures from the first day of Amy and Wendy together, but the first day's shots were nothing in comparison to the shots from the second day. Suzanne showed some of the better pictures to her models, who were amazed that they had actually been the subjects of the photos. Suzanne, in her usual way of dealing with her best subjects, offered them half of the income from the shoot, this time to be split evenly between Amy and Wendy. Suzanne quickly asked Wendy and Amy to sign model releases and visited her publisher with the complete set of photos from both days of shooting. Suzanne's editor looked through the pictures in silence. The pictures impressed him, something that clearly showed in his face. He called two assistants to have a look, as Suzanne sat nervously watching. No one said anything, but every so often the editor exchanged glances with the two assistants as they nodded. He dismissed them, folded his hands on his desk, and looked at Suzanne. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 10 "Suzanne, do you realize what you have here?" "Not really. I shot all these without much of a plan. I wasn't sure how they would turn out." "Well, the way they turned out is going to put you in the same league as the top group of photographers in New York. These are going to be controversial. I got to warn you about that. I'll take as much of the heat as possible, but you are going to get some as well." "I...don't understand." "I'm going to give this collection top billing. It has tremendous shock value. What I like about the pictures is that you weren't trying for shock value, but it's there, plain as day. I'd be neglecting my responsibilities to this company if I passed up the opportunity to market your work to its fullest potential." The editor paused, then continued. "One question, just out of curiosity; you actually punished the two models? That wasn't make-up?" "Yes. I wanted to get all of their emotion out onto film, and couldn't think of how else to do it. The idea to spank them hit me at the end of the first night of shooting, because I wanted to push them to their limits. Besides, I wouldn't use make-up for something like that. You can tell the difference." "Well, you succeeded. You got just the right amount of emotion in the pictures. As for the controversy over what you did, it'll be there. It's there for every collection of this class." Suzanne and her editor spent the next several hours going over the photos to be published. Suzanne was still a bit astounded by her editor's enthusiasm, and more so by seeing how many of the pictures he wanted in the book. He separated some others for promotional purposes, and still others for submission to magazines. Suzanne was even more surprised when she finally saw the draft of her contract. She realized that she had been quite generous with Amy and Wendy. The money that each of them could expect from this shoot would easily put them through college and graduate school. "Suzanne, your boyfriend is a lawyer, right?" She nodded. "Show this contract to him. Talk it over. I want to make sure you are completely satisfied with it." The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 11 Chapter 11 - Bad Girl Christmas break came, giving Amy a welcome break from her studies. However, the break was the calm before a very big storm. Just before her finals, Amy realized that the time had come to pick a major. As she pondered what interested her, she realized with some anxiety that the field she really liked was economics. It was the term paper that had changed her mind about the field. Amy realized that international development was a fascinating topic, and a powerful one that affected people around the world more than practically anything else. Amy felt a strong desire to understand the world. Economic development would go a long way to helping her achieve that understanding. Amy noticed that Ruth Burnside was teaching two sophomore-level classes in the Spring. These were two of the classes that Amy would need if she wanted to major in economics with an emphasis on economic development. Amy now was faced with an important decision. If she took these two classes, her life would be hard over the next five months. She had a feeling that Burnside's opinion of her had become much more favorable since she graded the Vietnam War paper, but she also knew, from having talked to Lisa, the professor's teaching assistant, that Burnside was hardest on the students she most liked. Burnside had her reasons. For her there was no gray area as far as students were concerned. Either a student was a worthless, lazy, drunken partier (which in Burnside's mind constituted about 98% of all university students), or a student was one of the few who actually had some respectability and was worth working with. The only way to obtain Burnside's respect was to consistently work hard, and work well, in the one subject that had any relevance, economics. Burnside dismissed everything else as "fluff". She would have, for example, dismissed Suzanne as an "art flake". Amy's life would change if she took the two classes. They would fill up her Spring semester and make her day-to-day life considerably less enjoyable. Amy's character would be tested, because she was not good at math and would have to overcome that deficiency to pass the classes. The thought of her character being tested scared Amy, because the last time her character was tested, she did not do too well. What would make these classes even harder is that Wendy would not be enrolled with Amy. Wendy had declared accounting as her major. Being the only child of her parents, she would have to take over the family business. Wendy had explained to Amy that it was only with reluctance that her parents had sent her to college, and that was only because there was no son available to take over when they retired. Wendy's father had to settle on educating a daughter to take over. Wendy had decided that for her accounting was more relevant than economics would be. Ultimately she would have to major in business administration, but she wanted to understand the numbers before looking at the over-all picture of her father's business. Wendy insisted, however, that she would be available to help Amy with the math portion of Burnside's classes. Amy wondered if Wendy really understood how much help she would need. Wendy responded. "Don't worry about that. My course load won't be really bad till next fall. I'll help you." Amy sighed. She wanted the major. She wanted the understanding it would give her. At least, she thought, if I don't pass Burnside's two classes I'll know right away that I can't handle it, and I'll have time to switch to something else. An hour before the end of the final day to turn in the class schedule request, Amy filled in the last two lines: ECON-288a. 6-HR INTL DEV 20TH CENT MWF 0900-1100 BURNSIDE ECON-294a. 3-HR THEORY OF INT DEV MWF 1300-1400 BURNSIDE ---------- Unlike most students, Amy no longer had to worry about paying for her classes. Just before Christmas Suzanne handed her a cashier's check for her part in the photo shoot in November. Amy looked at the check, dumbfounded. "Suzanne, is this right?" "Yes, it's right. It's a fourth of the money from the photo shoot. There will be a couple more checks once the books hit the shelves. They think I have a major success with your pictures here." Amy deposited the check in her account and asked Suzanne to take her to see Robert. She wondered what to do with the money. She was smart enough to realize that, as a 19-year old, she was clueless. When she approached Robert with her situation, he was gratified that Amy had matured enough to not think she had all the answers when it came to handling her modeling money. Robert was smart enough to realize that he did not have all the answers either, so he and Amy visited his financial advisor. Amy, when presented with investment options, went with a conservative strategy and a very diversified portfolio, with emphasis on security over risk. She set aside the cash that she would need over the next three years, calculated to meet her expected expenses, as well as what she was likely to have to pay in taxes next year. She would forget about the rest of her money until graduation. That would be for graduate school and beyond. ---------- Suzanne did not face the dilemma concerning what to do about her portion of the money from the photo shoot. Some of it she could spend easily enough on new equipment. She made plans to buy a new car and replace the lemon she was driving now. She needed something that would be practical for her work, either a small SUV or a minivan. There were college debts she could pay off. She could finish paying off her furniture. There were credit card bills to pay off. The morning before Christmas she gave herself a present of sorts, the satisfaction of writing a series of checks that would, for the first time in her life since graduating from high school, get her out of debt. The rest of her money simply went into a bank account in anticipation of her expenses for the Spring Semester, which would be her last as a graduate student. Suzanne reluctantly decided to wind down her massage business. She would pass her remaining customers off on a friend from the physical therapy department. She would still finish her physical therapy degree, but now hoped never to need it. ---------- Suzanne and Amy spent Christmas with Robert. The day after Christmas Suzanne dropped Amy back at their apartment and then returned to his place to spend some time with him alone. As soon as she entered his place they stripped. Naked, she cuddled in his arms on the sofa. For once they were not immediately in the mood for sex. They just wanted to feel each other's warmth. Suzanne rested her head on his bare chest, and he buried his face in her hair, enjoying its smell and softness against his face. It was strange to think that in the short time they had been going out, each thought of the other as a soul-mate. In the eight short weeks since the day after Halloween each had told the other personal secrets not shared with anyone else. As strange a beginning as the relationship may have had, it now gave both Suzanne and Robert meaning in their lives. Each may have had a career, but a career can never give a person meaning in life the same way a good relationship can. Gradually Suzanne's hand began moving up and down Robert's chest and stomach. Robert responded by gently squeezing her nipples and massaging her breasts. Suddenly he felt an overwhelming desire to see and caress her bottom. He motioned her to lie across his lap. Suzanne settled over his legs and pulled a pillow under her face. She closed her eyes and settled down to enjoy Robert's caresses. He moved his hand gently in circles around both bottom cheeks, around the lower part of her back and her upper thighs. He glided his palm over her skin. He gently pressed his fingers down the middle of her bottom, spending a few minutes gently stroking her bottom-hole and the surrounding area . Suzanne sighed with pleasure and lifted up a little, opening herself as much as possible for Robert's hand between her legs. With his finger tips he gently traced the tender skin between her thighs. He teased her, gently running his fingers over her labia and touching everywhere other than her clitoris. She was incredibly wet. Suzanne felt an overwhelming feeling of submission to Robert at that moment. She teasingly bounced her bottom up and down. Robert wanted to make sure he had correctly picked up on her signal to him. "You know, I've been thinking...it was pretty naughty of you to spank Amy and Wendy during that photo shoot and not take a spanking yourself. A little hypocritical, I would say." Softly she replied "That's right. I was a bad girl, wasn't I?" Robert felt a rush of excitement and arousal. He brought his hand over the center of Suzanne's right bottom-cheek. He kept it there for a few seconds, letting her know where the first slap would land. Suzanne's heart raced with anticipation. He pulled his hand up and delivered a sharp smack. Suzanne groaned slightly. It was not a groan of pain. Robert slapped again in the same spot. He studied the pink mark in the center of Suzanne's white bottom cheek. Within a few minutes all of Suzanne's bottom would be that color. Robert spanked slowly, lovingly. He slapped Suzanne's bottom hard on alternate cheeks. He paused after each slap, making sure that Suzanne felt each slap before receiving the next. SLAP!...SLAP!... SLAP!... SLAP!... SLAP!... SLAP!... SLAP!... SLAP!... The loud swats reverberated throughout the room. This was not a punishment spanking. It was not a spanking out of anger. It was a spanking that would push Suzanne to the limits of her emotion and passion, the pain mixing with the pleasure radiating from between her legs. After Robert had given Suzanne 30 hard swats he paused. He ran his hand over her back and over her deep pink bottom cheeks. Her bottom was just beginning to swell and feel hot. Robert lovingly caressed Suzanne's bottom for several minutes. He ran his hand between her legs and teased her again. His fingers traced the area close to her clitoris, without making contact with it. Suzanne groaned wildly and thrust herself up, desperate to find Robert's fingers with her clitoris. Robert would have none of that. He placed his left hand over the lower part of Suzanne's back and pressed her back down. He started spanking again, slowly, sensuously. He stopped after every 6 swats or so to pass his hand over her bottom and tease between her legs. He was driving her wild. The sight of her pink bottom, her groans and squeaks of passion and desperation, the wetness and smell of her sex, her movements against his penis, were driving Robert wild as well. He had not been this aroused in years. He was so hard it was almost painful. Robert maintained his control for an additional 30 swats. Suzanne was on the edge and so was he. He pulled her up. She kissed him and she grabbed his penis hard. Her face was sweating. "Robert...my love...please" They rolled off the sofa onto the floor. She was on her back, her hands over Robert's bottom. He thrust into her harder than he had during any of their previous love-making sessions. He held back as long as he could, prolonging the release of his own passion. Suzanne was so aroused that her breath came in uneven gasps. She squeaked with pain and pleasure, the pain and pleasure of Robert's hard thrusts grating against her vagina, the pain and pleasure radiating from the heat of her bottom. Suddenly she dug her fingernails hard into Robert's bottom, this time so hard she broke the skin. She released all her passion that moment. She had never felt so out of control. The pain he felt from Suzanne's fingernails tearing into him only increased Robert's exhilaration. It gave him that extra edge. Sweat poured down his face. Suddenly he felt the release as the orgasm came. He thrust hard, wanting to push himself to his limit. Even after he came he continued thrusting. Suzanne squeaked and had her second orgasm. She moved her hands to the middle of his back. Suddenly Robert had a second orgasm. That had not happened to him for many years. His muscles began to tense up as he released into her the second time. Suzanne grabbed Robert's face and pulled his mouth down into hers. They finally separated, looking at each other in shock. They were covered in sweat. The whole living room smelled of their sex. They struggled to get their breathing back to normal. The muscles in the backs of Robert's legs were cramped. They sat in silence on the floor for a couple of minutes. They were at a loss for words. What do you say to your lover after an experience like that? Robert shifted position to sit against the sofa. He reached out and drew Suzanne to his side. She cuddled into his arms. She looked up into his eyes and smiled mischievously. "I'm still your bad girl, Robert." The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 12 Chapter 12 - Mardi Gras Amy found that she was actually enjoying economics more and more as the Spring semester progressed. She had been right about taking the two classes with Burnside. She knew what to expect from Burnside, which she found comforting in a strange way. Burnside might have given her an approving nod to see her enrolled in two of her classes, but Amy knew that meant that Burnside expected more from her, not less. For the first time in her life, Amy had found a role-model whom she wanted to impress. Economics was a tough subject, and Amy had never been good at math. She spent hours each week with Wendy going over the difficult equations needed for her economics classes, but slowly the theories and formulas in Burnside's lectures started to make sense to her. Another person became central to Amy's ambitions during the spring semester, and that was Lisa Campbell, Burnside's TA, who was a graduate student and seminar instructor. Lisa's relationship with Burnside went back several years to her first year in college. At first she seemed an unlikely assistant for Burnside because her outward appearance was totally different from that of the impeccable economics professor. Lisa was tall and quite attractive, with bleached blond hair and a deep tan. She usually dressed in very provocative clothing and spoke with a casual California accent. She was the chapter president of one of the sororities on campus, and often walked around with a contingent of young pledges trailing behind her. Lisa, when not wearing a see-through blouse or skimpy halter-top, invariable wore a t-shirt or sweatshirt with her sorority's insignia on it. Lisa's outward appearance and behavior were completely misleading. In spite of her social life, she was a hardened, serious graduate student. When in class she was all business; her detailed lectures, harsh grading, and strict schedule totally contrasting with her casual west-coast mannerisms and revealing clothing. There was something more to Lisa than just her underlying intelligence and ambition, however. Amy suspected that her TA's sexual appetites were very similar to Ruth Burnside's. There was something about her, perhaps something in her expression or the way she looked at the guys in her seminars; that made Amy think Lisa could very well be a dominatrix. She could very easily picture the Californian wearing a black outfit and cruel smile, wielding a switch or paddle against some unfortunate naked fraternity pledge. Lisa took a liking to Amy and began helping her with some of the theoretical material in the classes. Wendy had a good head for numbers and formulas, but had more difficulty with applying the math to real uses. Lisa helped Amy with applied theoretical concepts and gave her some advice about improving her writing technique and finding research sources. By the middle of the semester Lisa knew Amy well enough to confide a few details about her personal life and her sorority. She also related how she had met Suzanne when she was still a freshman, through a mutual friend who now was in working for the university's economics department as an exchange program counselor in Eastern Europe. ---------- Amy's dedication to her economics classes forced her to reduce her photo shoot schedule with Suzanne. Amy's roommate was perfectly willing to delay several photo shoots until the summer, and step aside to let her throw herself into her studies. Suzanne reflected that Amy had come a long way in just a year. When she had first met Amy, Suzanne thought of her as little more than a teenager who had some seriousness knocked into her by a bad experience. Amy had changed since Suzanne first saw her. She had matured and had real potential. Along with Lisa and Suzanne, Ruth Burnside also noticed the change in Amy. The first face to face encounter between Amy and her professor, a confrontation in her office over a plagiarized term paper, was totally forgotten. Amy now did excellent work. At Lisa's suggestion, Burnside suddenly decided to do something for Amy that she almost never did for an undergraduate; she e-mailed Amy to invite her and Wendy to her annual Mardi Gras party, this time as guests. The theme would be the same as the Halloween Party, a BDSM costume party. If she and Wendy wanted to come they would have to wear decent outfits. That was the only condition, Burnside emphasized. Amy immediately e-mailed back. "Thanks for the invite. I'll be there for sure! I'll try to get Wendy to come too." Amy had a harder time choosing an outfit than Wendy. Wendy had a skin-tight shiny black Japanese jumpsuit that would be perfect for her. A pair of black high-heeled shoes and a borrowed black riding crop completed her costume. Amy even managed to convince Wendy not to wear anything under her jumpsuit. Amy was stuck between wearing a Mardi Gras style outfit or a BDSM outfit. Finally she settled on going as a nurse. She found an old white nurse's dress and cap at a used clothing store. She shortened the skirt so that it ended just slightly below her crotch. She bought a pair of white silk stockings that came halfway up her thighs. She decided that she would shave off her pubic hair and go pantyless. She felt incredibly daring as she felt the thrill of the cool air on her upper thighs and between her legs when trying on her outfit. Amy stood in the mirror looking at herself. She was all in white, except her upper thighs, which were bare. She felt a twinge of anxiety when she realized that she had shortened the skirt a bit too much in the back. She noticed in the mirror that if she bent over, even slightly, the lower part of her bottom was exposed. However, she decided to go with her original plan to not wear any underwear, since many of Burnside's guests already had seen plenty of her body in the fall. As she turned around, the back of her skirt barely reaching to the tops of her thighs even when she was standing up straight, she felt that she never looked sexier in her life. Amy's accessories included an old stethoscope, a pocket of empty syringes, and an enema bottle and tube hooked to her belt. There was an early midterm in both of Burnside's classes a couple of days before the party. Amy suspected that Burnside had scheduled the tests early in the hope of recruiting hosts or hostesses for her party. This time Amy had studied hard and was confident going into both tests. She was determined to be Burnside's guest, not her hostess. Lisa proctored both tests, pacing about the room while Burnside watched the students from her podium During one of the midterms, Amy noticed the guy sitting next to her looking over onto her paper, as well as onto the paper of the guy sitting on his other side. He was handsome, but was an arrogant fraternity type of the sort that did not interest her. The second time he peeked onto her paper, she gave him a cold stare and twisted in her seat to keep him from seeing her answers. "Stupid bitch." mumbled the frat guy. Amy was furious at her neighbor. No wonder Suzanne freaked at the slightest hint of plagiarism. Why was she a "stupid bitch" just because she didn't want someone else copying her test? As Lisa slowly walked up the side of the room on the lookout for cheaters, Amy's neighbor twisted to the other side look at his other neighbor's paper. The other guy was just as irritated as was Amy, and a bit more vocal. "Look, shithead, do your own fucking work." Lisa quickly looked over to the three students. She had heard the other guy's comment. Amy's eyes met the TA's, then moved in the direction of her cheating neighbor, then back to Lisa's face. The TA nodded slightly. YES!! Looks like Burnside has herself a host for her party, thought Amy to herself. Two days later Burnside returned the tests. Amy was sitting next to the same fraternity guy. Lisa handed him an empty manila folder. Amy smiled wickedly. The guy gave her a sharp look. "What's so funny?" he snapped. "You'll find out." That night Amy e-mailed Burnside. "The guy sitting next to me insulted me during the test. Will he be hosting for you?" Burnside responded. "Elaborate". "He called me a 'stupid bitch' when I wouldn't let him see my test." "Then he will need an attitude adjustment as well as a lesson in academic integrity. Be at my place at 5:30. -Burnside-" ---------- Amy and Wendy showed up at Burnside's house at 5:30. Wendy's face was heavily made up to emphasize her Asian features. She looked great in her tight black jumpsuit. The curves of her thin body were clearly visible under her outfit. Amy felt wonderful in her sexy nurse outfit, but she could tell that Wendy was nervous about facing Burnside again. "Relax." said Amy. "You're not even in her class anymore. Besides, didn't she tell both of us that she actually learned something from our paper? You won't hear that from Burnside too often." As they walked from Wendy's car to Burnside's door, Amy felt the cold winter air blowing against her bare thighs and up her skirt on her bare bottom. She could tell that she had goose bumps on her bottom and thighs. She was incredibly aroused. When Burnside opened the door she was again in outfit. This time her students were not shocked. The professor looked over Amy and Wendy approvingly and invited them in. The living room was decorated differently than for Halloween. There were glittery decorations everywhere on the walls, punctuated with fake flowers and strings of beads. This time Burnside had her leather switch in her hand and was dressed in a one-piece leather outfit. From the front it looked something like a black swimsuit, but in the back it was cut very high. A thin string of leather running between Burnside's tanned bottom cheeks and halfway up her back was the only covering that she had below her waist in the back. She has a nice bottom, in spite of her age, thought Amy. Amy, for the first time, was able to appreciate how sexy Ruth Burnside truly was. Burnside was over 40, but had not done anything to attempt to conceal her age. Her hair was just starting to go gray, and anyone standing close to her would see wrinkles starting to form around her eyes. Burnside had not taken any artificial steps to hide what was happening to her body, but in a natural way, it was obvious she was determined to stay as healthy as possible for as long as possible. Her body was toned and hardened from years of intense physical exercise. Burnside had a figure that many younger women would have envied and her whole demeanor demonstrated her excellent health and confidence in herself. The detail about Burnside that made her truly sexy, however, was not her physique, nor even her erotic outfit; it was the intense eroticism in her eyes and her expression. In class Ruth Burnside pushed an image of harshness and severity. In her own environment, she exuded the same harshness, but it was mixed with her love of sex and of exploring all the physical sensations that a human body could experience. Burnside knew her own body much better than most women. Time and time again she had pushed herself to her physical limits as she explored her world in which pain constantly intersected with intense pleasure. It was that confidence in herself, and in her ability to help others explore their outer limits of intense sexuality, that was reflected in Burnside's eyes. Her expression was that of a person who had "been there". Amy and Wendy's attentions were quickly diverted from Burnside's bottom. Lisa came into the living room from the kitchen. Her exhibitionist personality (as well as her body) was even more fully on display than the professor's. She wore nothing except a small red French maid's apron, a matching maid's hat, and a pair of red slippers. Her shoulders, breasts, legs, and entire backside were completely uncovered. Seeing Lisa so exposed left Amy with the odd feeling of being over-dressed for this party instead of under-dressed. Compared to Burnside and Lisa, her outfit seemed relatively modest. Standing at the back of the living room were three naked male students. They were facing the wall and had their hands behind their heads. They already were wearing Burnside's servant uniform, metal cuffs and temporary tattoos around their upper arms and thighs. Their legs were slightly more than shoulder-width apart and Amy could catch a glimpse of the backs of their testicles between their legs. Two of the trio had 16 dark reddish stripes on their bottoms and were shifting uncomfortably from side to side, sighing every so often. The bottom of the third student was still white. "Bill, turn around please." said Burnside, with a mocking sweetness in her voice. "There's someone here to see you." The guy who still had a white butt turned around. He was Amy's neighbor from the midterm. His eyes met hers. His face, already red, turned a shade darker. A look of panic went through his expression. He looked at the floor. "Hey! No one told you to look down!" snapped Lisa. "Look Amy in the eye! You don't call someone a 'stupid bitch' in a test and then look away! What's wrong with you? You're not proud that you said that to her?" Burnside smiled approvingly at Lisa. Her TA had made a good start dealing with this frat punk. Bill reluctantly gazed at Lisa, then at Amy. The two women looked into his face and smiled sarcastically, scanning their eyes over his body. He was average height, and had a fairly good build. His legs and chest were deeply tanned, but he was white between his knees and waist. There was a small amount of hair on his chest and some on his calves. His pubic hair was gone, shaved off to comply with the dress code of a punished student. His penis and balls were average sized, but shaved he looked like more like a little boy. Bill looked like he was going to be sick. He could not believe how humiliating all this was. His fraternity initiation had been nowhere close to this, and the night was just starting... Lisa walked up to Bill. She pinched his chin and forced him to look at her. "You'll be getting it from Dr. Burnside for thinking that you could cheat on her midterm later on. But first you're getting it from me. That's why we saved you for last, so Amy could watch. You do NOT call a fellow student a 'stupid bitch' in class. Now turn around and put your hands on your knees." Burnside's eyes were illuminated with that weird expression she always had when she was aroused. Lisa ran her hand over Bill's bottom. The TA slipped her hand between his legs. Suddenly he clenched his bottom cheeks and twisted slightly. She slapped him hard. "Look, you little cheating punk! If I want to put my hand there, I will put my hand there! You will do what I tell you or tomorrow you're history as far as your career is concerned!" Lisa again reached between Bill's legs and squeezed the backs of his balls. "You're now getting a little something extra for not obeying me." Suddenly she turned to Amy. "Looks like you want to play nurse tonight. OK. Do you know how to check a prostate gland?" Amy shook her head no. Bill's eyes went wide with horror. "It's simple. I'll show you. Wendy, you get over here too. Get three pairs of medical gloves and that tube of K-Y from the table." Lisa showed Amy and Wendy how to put on the gloves. She dabbed a small amount of clear jelly on their fingertips. Then she ordered Bill to put his hands on the front of a chair and spread his legs. She pressed her left hand in the middle of his back to force his bottom to stick up. Bill's face was pure misery and humiliation. With her right hand Lisa stuck a finger up Bill's bottom. He did not dare move. "See how I am positioning my hand? You'll feel the prostate if you put yours in the same way. You can touch it, but don't press too hard. Here, Wendy you try it." The TA pulled her finger out. Wendy's face reflected genuine curiosity. She shoved her finger up Bill's bottom-hole. As Burnside and Amy watched, Lisa moved in to guide Wendy. "Press in a little more. Do you feel it?" Wendy nodded as she found her target. She felt it for a few seconds and pulled her finger out. Amy noticed that Bill had a furious erection. Lisa reached down and quickly squeezed it to torment him even more. "Some guys get off on this. Amy, you try it." Amy shoved her index finger up Bill's bottom while Lisa kept a tight grip on his penis. She felt around the warm flesh of his intestines and found the small round gland. She gently traced it with her finger tip for a few seconds. Her curiosity satisfied, she pulled her finger out. "Bill, stand up and turn around. Keep your hands at your side." snapped Burnside. "Now look at me." Bill's penis stuck straight out. It bobbed up and down slightly, to the delight of the four women standing in the room. Bill looked like he was about to cry. Amy and Wendy had a hard time trying not to laugh. Burnside moved her face close to Bill's. "Let this be a lesson to you, Bill. No matter how bad you think things are, we can always make them worse. Do you understand?" "Yes, Dr. Burnside." Bill's voice was barely audible. Gone was the smug way he talked in class. "Now, get yourself cleaned up. You have 60 seconds." Bill ran to the bathroom. He wiped himself off and returned almost immediately. Amy could tell that he was no longer just embarrassed, he was scared. He stood quietly waiting to see what would come next. Burnside and Lisa walked over the table of S&M implements, while Amy and Wendy watched. There was an assortment of paddles, crops, leather switches, straps, and martinets. Burnside handed Lisa a black leather paddle. The paddle's surface was oval shaped, about eight by six inches. The thick leather was stiff and heavy. Any swats from it would hurt, even if wielded by someone inexperienced. Burnside smacked Lisa's bare bottom and pointed at Bill. "OK. He's all yours 'til you get tired of paddling him. Then he's mine. That's when the real fun starts." Lisa took the paddle and waved it to test its feel in her hand. Suddenly her eyes fell on a riding crop, which gave her a wicked idea. She put the paddle under her arm and picked up the crop. "Bill, put your hands on your head. Spread your legs." Lisa began to caress the insides of Bill's thighs with the crop. "Keep your eyes on me. And close your mouth. You look stupid with your mouth hanging open like that." Lisa lightly touched Bill's testicles with the crop. She massaged the tip around his penis. The other three women watched with amusement as Bill's hard-on returned. He bobbed up and down as the graduate student continued to rub him with the implement. His face was pure humiliation. Finally he could not look at her any more. She snapped him between the legs with the implement. He jerked and struggled to stay upright. "What do you think you're doing?! Look at me! Aren't you proud that you called Amy a 'stupid bitch'? Come on. Answer the question!" Bill forced himself to look up at Amy. "No...I'm not proud..." he managed to get out. Amy's eyes lit up with joy as the wetness built between her legs. This was a totally new experience for her and she was loving every moment. To watch her sexy TA make that frat punk squirm with embarrassment, to have him as her plaything...This was fun! Lisa set the crop down and took up the paddle to deliver the first part of the punishment. The TA cruelly smiled to Bill as she held the implement out in front, so he could get a good look at the leather that would be tormenting his bottom momentarily. "Get over that leather bench. Spread your legs." This was getting rougher and rougher on Bill. He struggled to get over the bench. His hard-on made it difficult. Finally he pushed it to one side and managed to get into position. Lisa showed him no mercy as she massaged his bottom and reached in front to tease him. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 12 Amy studied the paddle in Lisa's hand. It was obvious that it was intended to be used against one bottom cheek at a time. Burnside had chosen it for Lisa because it would give her maximum control over where she landed her swats. She positioned herself and gently rubbed Bill's bottom with the implement. He sighed with terror and humiliation. "This almost feels good, doesn't it?" Suddenly she drew the paddle back. POP! Bill's right bottom cheek turned pink. Lisa decided to hit again in the same spot. POP! The color darkened a bit. POP! Again in the same spot. She passed her hand over the pink area, fascinated that it felt warmer than the rest of Bill's bottom. She shifted to punish Bill's left cheek. POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... Amy landed five quick hard swats on Bill's left side. She paused to enjoy the sight of Bill's left bottom cheek change color. She passed her hand over the pink zone. POP!... POP!... She landed two more swats on Bill's right bottom cheek to even the color on both sides. "Bill, how old are you?" asked Lisa. Bill gasped. "Nineteen" he managed to get out. "Amy, what about you?" "I...I'm nineteen too," responded Amy, a bit surprised from the question. Lisa patted Bill's bottom. "Great! So you two are exactly the same age! You know what? I'll give you a birthday spanking. And I'll give you one for Amy as well. How does that sound? A birthday spanking for you on one cheek, and a birthday spanking for Amy on the other cheek." Lisa stepped to the frat boy's side so he could see her. "Bill, look at me. Doesn't that sound like a good idea?" "Uh...yes...yes..." Lisa returned to her position behind Bill. She pondered whether to punish one side first, then the other, or do both sides at the same time. Finally she decided to punish one side at a time. She tapped the paddle on his right bottom cheek. "Happy birthday, Bill" POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... Amy noticed Bill breathing more heavily. POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... Amy thought that she could hear Bill grunt on the last couple of swats. For the final four, Lisa decided to hit with all her strength. POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... Lisa thought that she could hear his voice break a little on the final swats, but that was not good enough. She touched the paddle to Bill's left bottom cheek and then paused. "Bill, aren't you going to wish Amy a happy birthday?" Bill looked up. There were actually tears in his eyes. "Happy birthday, Amy" he managed to get out. Lisa nerved herself for the next part of Bill's ordeal. She had to get him to cry before finishing with him. Burnside would not respect her if Bill could get through this without crying. Full force, she laid into him. POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... Suddenly she grabbed the swollen skin at the base of his bottom cheek and pinched it. She twisted the skin hard. Bill's voice broke. Lisa resumed paddling. POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... She noticed his body shaking a bit. Lisa hit with every bit of her strength. Sweat stained her maid's apron and dripped from her forehead. POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... Lisa's efforts at last were rewarded, she heard him softly sob. POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... Lisa stopped, breathing heavily. Bill's bottom was a deep, blotchy pink. "Bill, stand up and turn around!" The broken frat boy did as he was told. He faced his three witnesses. Tears were running down his face. Amy glanced over at Wendy. She could tell that Wendy was fascinated by what had just happened. She looked at Burnside. The professor was totally aroused. She had that wild look in her eyes. That was not good news for Bill. If Burnside went over the edge switching him like she did with Wendy, Amy had no intention of intervening. Bill's well-being was not her problem. Lisa was incredibly wet between her legs. She had to relieve herself or she would go crazy before the party ended. She decided to subject Bill to yet another indignity before turning him over to Burnside. "Dr. Burnside, do you have something to clip Bill's cuffs together?" Burnside turned to Amy. "Amy, on the table. Get Lisa a clip." Amy passed the clip to Lisa, who ordered Bill to put his hands behind his back. She clipped them together. She took him by the arm. Bill was totally terrified especially when Burnside, Amy, and Wendy smiled at him. "Get on your back on the floor!" Lisa snapped to Bill. When he complied, he looked up and noticed that under her apron Lisa was completely shaved and totally wet. The sight of her aroused him and yet again he was hard. He stuck almost straight up. Bill's tormentor looked down at him with disdain. "What's the matter, you never saw one of these before?" She lifted her apron. "Here. Now you have a better look." She lowered her apron and got ready to completely shock everyone in the room, including Burnside. Just how much of an exhibitionist Lisa truly was came out in her next command. She ordered the other two naked students to turn around and "enjoy the show", as she put it. Then she glanced down at Bill to notice him looking up her apron again. "Since you like looking at my pussy so much, you pathetic little shit, I'll give you a close-up." Lisa knelt over his face. "Now start licking. Make me come, or I'll paddle you all over again." The TA pressed down on her victim's face. She made sure that she was positioned so her clitoris was over his mouth. Bill complied, wiggling his tongue around and over his tormentor's clitoris and labia. At least he knew how to give head. The threat of another paddling was not necessary, because Lisa climaxed almost immediately. Her body was covered in sweat and she gasped as a delicious orgasm swept over her. The orgasm felt so good that she totally forgot she was being watched by five stunned witnesses. Once she calmed down, ordered him to keep licking "until you've cleaned me up". Lisa stood up. She sighed with relief as she wiped the sweat off her face. She was still incredibly aroused, but she no longer felt out of control. Without unclipping his cuffs, she reached down and helped Bill to his feet. The lower part of his face was shiny and smelled of sex. His erection was harder than ever. He looked totally broken and miserable. His torment became even worse when the others burst out laughing, first Burnside and Amy, then Wendy, and finally the other two male students. Burnside suddenly became serious again. She grabbed Bill by the arm and walked him back over to the leather bench. "Get back over the horse!" "Dr. Burnside! I just..." "...got it from Lisa..." interrupted Burnside. "I haven't touched you yet! Lisa punished you for insulting Amy in my class. I still need to punish you for trying to cheat on my midterm! Totally separate issues!" Burnside pushed him over the bench and snapped at him to scoot forward. She clipped his wrists to the legs of the bench, then moved to the other side to clip his ankles. Burnside slapped the inside of Bill's thigh. "Spread 'em!" Bill spread his legs wide. He was pressed hard against his penis, which was still erect. The backs of his testicles were clearly visible between his pink bottom cheeks. Amy looked at the other two male students. They were standing together near the kitchen door, facing Bill and Burnside. She recognized one of them from the other class that she had with Burnside, but did not know his name. The other guy she had not seen before. He must have been from another of Burnside's classes. The guy she recognized from her other class was fairly good-looking, not as handsome as Bill, but not bad either. He did not have that stupid-looking tan-line that Bill had from running around in his shorts all the time. He cringed with embarrassment when his eyes met Amy's. She made it a point to let him see her studying his penis and the surrounding shaved area. He moved to cover himself. Amy shook her head and smiled at him. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Besides, a couple hundred people are going to see you tonight. You won't have a chance to cover up lugging drinks around." Reluctantly he dropped his hands and left himself uncovered as he cringed and blushed from humiliation. The guy that Amy had not seen before was about average in appearance. He seemed not to be bothered by his situation and made no effort to cover himself. Instead he was staring straight at Bill's bottom and looked aroused. Amy glanced at his penis, which was stiffening. It was clear that he was looking forward to seeing Bill get punished. Burnside picked up the switch that she had used to punish Amy and Wendy before the Halloween party, looked at it, then adjusted her grip and swished it through the air in front of Bill's face. "I think this will do. I was thinking about a cane, but I'll just go with this." She caressed Bill's bottom with the switch. She lightly tapped the backs of his testicles with the tip. Her eyes shined. She wet her lips. Amy squeezed Wendy's hand. She could tell that her friend was thinking of her own punishment four months before. Wendy cringed in sympathy with Bill, her unease clearly visible even under her heavy make-up. Burnside stepped back. She raised her arm. Amy heard the switch as it descended on Bill's right bottom cheek. Bill jerked and gasped. A reddish line immediately appeared at the base of his right bottom cheek and turned dark. Bill shifted back and forth. Burnside struck again, only slightly higher. Bill gasped again, this time a bit louder. Burnside hit him again, the third stroke, almost, but not quite, touching the second one. After just three strokes, Bill sobbed for the first time. Amy was amazed at Burnside's accuracy. Later she would need to ask her professor how she was able to control her strokes so well. Amy heard the whoosh of the switch again. Bill sobbed louder. His knees started to shake. On the fifth stroke he screamed. It fascinated Amy to hear a guy scream in pain. She had never heard that before. It was the scream that set Burnside off. Her eyes went wild. Her face tensed up with fury and pleasure. Savagely she laid on stripe after stripe both sides of Bill's bottom. He started screaming and sobbing continuously. Burnside laid a total of 14 stripes on Bill's bottom from the right side. The new welts crossed each other, forming blood blisters. Bill was crying hard. His body jerked with each sob. Burnside jumped behind him to begin on his left side. She gritted her teeth and slashed full force. Her face was scary-looking. Amy and Wendy exchanged glances. Amy could tell that Wendy was frightened. Amy glanced back at the two male students. Amy's male classmate looked every bit as scared at Wendy. The third guy, however, was totally enjoying the sight of Bill's tormented backside. He was very erect. Amy suddenly suspected that he was gay and quite happy to be watching the show. It seemed that his nakedness and the condition of his own bottom did not bother him in the least. Burnside hit Bill again and again, a total of 15 more times from the left side. Bill's bottom was turned into a mass of criss-crossed welts and painful blood blisters before she finished. He screamed non-stop. In spite of her resolve not to intervene on Bill's behalf, Amy was relieved when Burnside stopped hitting him. She looked at his bottom, which made a strange sight. The lower half of his right bottom cheek displayed five neat even lines. However the rest of his bottom showed where Burnside had lost control, covered with uneven, criss-crossed welts. The spell went out of Burnside's face. She breathed heavily for a few minutes as she resumed control over herself. She unclipped her victim's ankles and wrists. "Get up, you little cry-baby punk!" snapped the professor. Bill, still crying, struggled to get off the bench onto his feet. Suddenly the doorbell rang. Amy ran to the door. A group of female graduate students were outside, all dressed in Mardi Gras type outfits. Amy let them in. Their faces lit up with curiosity and amusement when they saw Bill. It was obvious that one of the graduate students recognized him. "Bill!" she screamed with delight. "What happened to you?" Bill turned away. Lisa grabbed his arm and spun him back around. "She asked you a question, bitch-boy! Answer it! And look at her when you speak!" Bill forced himself to look at the graduate who knew him. "I...I...copied a test...during ...midterms" The graduate student turned to her companions. "Bill's my roommate's ex-boyfriend. This is great! She'll love it! Let me get a picture!" The graduate student handed Amy a camera. Suddenly two of the others pulled out cameras and passed them to Amy. Amy took a total of twenty-five pictures of the group and Bill, who was still crying from the pain of his punishment. Each of the girls wanted to stand arm-in-arm with him, and each wanted a shot of his badly marked bottom. Amy wondered what type of circulation the photos would receive once developed. The doorbell rang again. Burnside had not realized how late it was. Guests started pouring in. Amy and Wendy watched in amusement as the three male hosts started taking coats to the back room. Amy turned to Wendy. "Aren't you glad it isn't us this time?" Burnside told the hosts to split up their duties. She sent Bill and the gay guy into the kitchen. Amy's other classmate stayed outside to take drink orders. The gay guy seemed delighted. Amy wondered how long it would be before he started making passes at Bill. Amy remembered Burnside's words at the beginning of Bill's ordeal: "Let this be a lesson to you, Bill. No matter how bad you think things are, I can always make them worse." After talking to and dancing with some of the male guests for a while, Amy decided to find the girl who wanted Bill's picture. She told the graduate student about the "stupid bitch" comment and how Bill was caught and punished by Lisa. She described both the paddling and switching, as well as the part about him having to perform oral sex on Lisa. The other woman was delighted to know the details. "This makes it even better!" Wendy took a picture of them together, Amy in her nurse's outfit and the graduate student in her Mardi Gras outfit. Amy then learned some very unsavory details about Bill and his treatment of various girlfriends and classmates. He had even raped an unconscious high school student last fall after spiking her beer with Rohypnol and later bragged about it. Amy felt even less sorry for him once she learned what a truly rotten person he was. By chance Amy touched the enema tube on her belt. Hmm, I haven't used this tonight, she thought. We'll need to get Bill back out here in a few minutes... ---------- Amy and Wendy spent much of their time that night simply observing their professor. Burnside cheerfully talked with her guests and did her usual flirting with the male professors. There were four older professors in particular with whom she seemed to hang out the most. Midway through the party they were sitting together on chairs next to the wall. Amy noticed each of the men passing a present to her. One of the men, who Amy recognized as a senior professor called Dr. Jim Halsey, made a comment and the others laughed. Amy could not hear the conversation, but she noticed Burnside laughing shyly and shaking her head. Dr. Halsey and Burnside then stood up, face to face. He took the woman's hands and began kissing her. The people nearby began cheering. The older man stepped back slightly, still holding Burnside's hands. He addressed her again, and she shyly nodded. With that Dr. Halsey turned to face the guests. "Attention! Attention!" The crowd quieted down. "Tomorrow is Ruth's birthday. What do you propose we do about it?" "Birthday spanking!" shouted a couple of partiers. The crowd cheered. Suddenly the whole living room started chanting "SPANK!...SPANK!...SPANK! The chant died down into a cheer. The older professor pulled a nearby chair away from the wall, sat down, and smiling, took Burnside's hand. "Ruth, my girl, the people have spoken. You are 41 years young tomorrow." Dr. Halsey pulled Burnside towards him. Her face turning quite red, she went over his lap. Amy realized the birthday spanking must be an annual ritual between the two professors, and that was why Burnside had chosen an outfit with no back. She did not want to wear something that she would have to take off in front of the crowd when she got her birthday spanking. The older professor slapped his companion's bottom quite hard 41 times with his hand. She closed her eyes and seemed to enjoy it. The slaps rang out through the quiet room, as the partiers watched the university's most infamous dominatrix get her own bottom reddened. Burnside's expression was relaxed and content through most of the spanking; she was used to much more serious play. At the end of her 41st swat, Burnside got up and hugged her friend. She turned around and wiggled her reddish bottom to the cheering crowd. The two professors then posed for pictures, Halsey facing the partiers with an impish expression while his companion continued to hug him with her bottom turned towards the multiple cameras documenting her 41st birthday celebration. It was obvious the whole affair had been in fun and that Halsey's hand had left her quite stimulated. Amy smiled to herself, thinking about Robert. She wished that Robert could have given Burnside that birthday spanking with his strap. The professor wouldn't be so light-hearted right now had she taken those 41 strokes from Robert. ---------- Bill's work in the kitchen was becoming more and more unbearable. That damn gay guy wouldn't leave him alone. Any other time Bill would have torn him apart, but he couldn't do it here. Bill knew that Burnside would really let him have it if he fought in her house. The truth was that the other guy was just teasing Bill. Yes, he was gay and thought Bill was quite attractive, and it also was true that he had made a pass at him. Normally, after being rejected he would have dropped the matter and moved on. However, Bill's reaction was so vehement that the other guy was decided to have some fun with his homo-phobic kitchen companion by continuing to flirt with him. A short time after Burnside's birthday spanking was over Bill decided to get out of the kitchen and beg his professor to let him take drink orders from the guests instead of mix drinks. To his huge misfortune he could not find Burnside, but he did find Lisa with Amy and Wendy. At first he thought he would find a sympathetic ear. Lisa quickly ended that hope. "Look, your boyfriend is not my problem! You are here to help Dr. Burnside serve her guests and I don't see that you're doing it!" Suddenly she noticed the enema bag on Amy's belt. "Bill, you know what? I'm going to motivate you to get back to work!" Bill's face showed the distress and disappointment of Lisa's rejection. "Fine! I'll go back!" "No you won't! Not yet! You're out here fuckin' around instead of working and you're gonna pay for it! Turn around and face that wall!" Bill reluctantly turned around. Lisa quickly handcuffed Bill's hands behind his back and snarled "Get on your knees! Keep your face to the wall!" Bill shook with terror. He was expecting another paddling over his welts. However, more paddling was not what Lisa had in mind. Instead she ordered Amy to unhook the enema bag and tube from her belt and screw them together. "OK, I need you to go in the kitchen and fill that bag. As full as you can get it. Make sure the water isn't too hot." She turned to Wendy. While Amy's doing that, I need you to grab a tube of K-Y from the back table." As Amy turned to make her way to the kitchen, Lisa tapped her shoulder and gave her another order. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 12 "Do me another favor. Remember that woman who knows Bill, that roommate or whatever? Tell her to get over here with her camera." Amy and Wendy came back just as the graduate student and her group of friends approached Lisa and Bill. He still had no idea what was about to happen. When the graduate students saw Bill kneeling next to the wall, with Lisa firmly grabbing his hair and Amy standing next to them with her enema bag, their cameras came out immediately. Bill's captor signaled Amy to take the end of the enema tube from Wendy and dab it with jelly. With a grunt Lisa pulled Bill to a standing position by the hair. "Stand up and turn around, your pathetic little shit! You know what? Nurse Amy and me are gonna to take real good care of you! We're gonna to help you get over your feelings of guilt about spiking the beer of a high school student and raping her! You do feel guilty about that, don't you?" Bill was too shocked to speak. He was handcuffed and walled-in by a large group of hostile females. Amy was holding the end of an enema tube and glaring at him. Wendy was standing next to her with the water bag. He was immobilized with fear. Lisa grabbed Bill by the hair and his wrists to force him back on his knees, facing away from his audience. She grabbed his cuffed hands and pushed them up, forcing his to arch his back and place his welts, his bottom-hole, and the backs of his testicles on prominent display. Bill's head went to the floor and was immobilized under Lisa's knee. Two of the graduate students knelt down to grab his feet and force them apart. Bill now was completely helpless and unable to move. His bottom-hole was very much exposed between his widely-spread buttocks. Lisa pressed her hand into the middle of the young man's back and pushed his arms up further. The cameras started flashing. The roommate of Bill's ex-girlfriend moved to his side to get both his face and his bottom in the pictures. Tears rolled down his cheeks from the terror and embarrassment. Lisa paused for a moment, completely enjoying her victim's helplessness and humiliation, while Amy nervously stood with her full enema bag. She knew what was coming, but was trying to work up the courage to actually... "OK, Nurse Amy, please administer the therapy to our patient." Amy crouched down and pushed the end of the enema tube against Bill's bottom-hole. She worked the tip past his sphincter and pressed it in. Bill jerked and tightened. Amy took a deep breath, repositioned the tube, and finished inserting it deep inside. She held it in place, her fingers almost touching the subject's welt-covered backside. "Please...no...uh...uh...not..." "Bill, knock it off! Keep your butt out!" Amy passed the bag to Wendy and exchanged glances with Lisa. "Open the clip." Amy swallowed and nervously opened the clip that kept the tube closed with her free hand. Lisa issued another command to Wendy. "Hold that bag up high. Hold it steady, and keep it up 'til all the water's drained out." Wendy exchanged a very frightened glance with Amy as she held up the bag and watched it slowly empty. Amy took another breath as she firmly held the tube in place in Bill's bottom. She had a problem of her own; she realized that her abbreviated skirt had bunched up around her hips, leaving her body almost completely uncovered from the waist down. However, there was nothing she could do about it, because her hands were busy and she couldn't let go of the enema tube. She tried to ignore the flashing cameras as she kept the nozzle steady and felt the water pass through into her victim's intestines. Slowly Bill's stomach began to swell. His guts started to hurt. The cameras continued to flash wildly. Burnside and Dr. Halsey, noticing the flashing and cheering at the other side of the room, worked their way through the crowd to see what was going on. When Burnside saw Wendy holding the enema bag, Amy firmly holding the nozzle in Bill's bottom, and Lisa's knee pressing down on his head, she smiled at her students. She had trained her graduate assistant well and could take pride in that. Lisa was a natural at inflicting real punishment. Bill looked up and saw Burnside. There was no pity in Burnside's face. He looked over at his ex-girlfriend's roommate. Behind her camera she glared at him. No pity there. He looked at the collection of cheering female faces surrounding him. He saw nothing but hostile satisfaction at his predicament. Bill clenched his teeth against the increasing pain in his guts. He needed the bathroom, bad. He was completely at Lisa's mercy. He would do anything for her let him up. Lisa placed her hand on Bill's shoulder. "Bill, please tell the group, in a nice loud voice, why Nurse Amy had to do this to you." Bill spoke immediately. The only thing on his mind was getting to the bathroom. "I...drugged a...high school student...at a frat party...last year...I fucked her...she was asleep..." "How old was she, Bill?" "Fifteen...Sixteen...uh...Sophomore...uh..." Lisa's response was dripping with sweet sarcasm. "Bill! How shocking! A big boy like you fucking a knocked-out fifteen-year-old? Don't you think that's kind of sick? Bill, answer me. Don't you think that fucking a knocked-out fifteen-year-old is kinda sick?" "Uh...yeah...uh...sick!" The crowd murmured and groaned with disgust. Bill didn't care; the only thing on his mind was getting to the toilet. Sweat and tears poured down his face. Finally Amy pulled the tube out of his butt. Lisa let him up and un-cuffed him. He pushed his way through the mob to the bathroom. Burnside's face went dark with anger. She pushed through the crowd after Bill. She kicked the bathroom door open. "Get out! Get yourself wiped off, you little pervert, and get the fuck out of my house!" Burnside grabbed Bill's bag of clothes and threw them out the front door into the snow of her front lawn. The professor and her TA then grabbed Bill's arms and twisted them behind his back. They led Bill past the cheering partiers and pushed him out the door. A vicious, well-aimed kick to his backside sent him sprawling in the snow. "What about my midterm?" "Your midterm?! You've got nerve, you little shit! You flunked it! You flunked my class! You flunked college! If you have a problem with that, take it up with the administration! Then you can tell them WHY you flunked! They'll love that one!" Burnside slammed her front door so hard the house shook. That was the end of Bill. Well, not quite. After the normal partying resumed a guy wearing a biker's outfit found Amy and handed her a business card. "I work for the campus police. You girls just did us a huge favor. We've been investigating three rapes at Bill's fraternity last fall and one so far this spring; all of them involving minors. Of course, no one's giving up anything and we've been banging our heads against the wall trying to get to those guys. Your method of interrogation wouldn't hold up in court, but now I know which one of 'em we need to talk to." ---------- Lisa and Amy were the heroes of the night. Everyone seemed to want to find them to congratulate them on their treatment of Bill. Even Burnside couldn't have done it better. Amy spent most of her remaining time at the party listening to compliments and posing for pictures with the guests. Everyone there seemed to want to have their picture taken with Lisa in her maid's apron and Amy in her nurse outfit. Ruth Burnside had mixed feelings. On the one hand she was jealous. She was used to being the center of attention at her parties. This was the first time that someone else had stolen the show. Still, she was proud of her students. They had added some real excitement to the party and gave everyone an experience they would remember for a long time. Most importantly, the two young women were responsible for ridding the university of a person who had no business being there. Amy was dumbfounded by the power that she and Lisa had held over Bill. She had hated him for that single comment in class. What irritated her the most was not the comment itself, but the casual way Bill had insulted her. It was obvious that he was used to talking to everyone, especially women, with cutting insults. As a result she was quite happy to see him ground-down as much as possible. However, it still amazed her that Bill's simple act of saying "stupid bitch" one time too many had set off a chain of events that had wrecked his life, and quite possibly would end up with him in jail. It was almost light outside when Amy and Wendy were able to break away from Burnside's party. Their departure from the Mardi Gras party was a total contrast with their departure from the Halloween party. They left with most of the other guests, with their bottoms intact. Burnside warmly patted Amy's hand as she said goodnight. Lisa actually hugged her. When Amy got home, there were no pans stacked on the other side of her front door, and no Suzanne sitting on the sofa glaring at her. Amy was just as tired as last time, but this morning she would sleep in her own bed and get up when she wanted. Amy sighed when she got back to her room. The library books were stacked high on her desk. She could feel them staring at her, reminding her of the huge amount of work that she still had to do for the two term papers she owed Burnside. The books would be her companions as soon as she woke up. She knew that precisely because Burnside had taken a liking to her, she could expect her professor to come down especially hard on her if she did not do good work. Definitely a mixed blessing. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 13 Chapter 13 – Paul Amy's relationship with Robert had changed radically by the beginning of her second year of college. Amy was now Robert's equal, and his friend. She still approached him for advice when she felt that she needed it, but as a friend, not as a surrogate daughter. She still felt a deep respect for him and cared for him deeply. He had saved her life. He had guided her into the path where she was now. Most importantly, in no way did he attempt to exploit her vulnerability when she stayed with him, nor in the months that followed. Amy now was glad that there had never been a hint of sex between herself and Robert. The infatuation she had felt for him at the beginning ended long ago and she could settle down to enjoy her friendship with him. Robert now respected Amy as an adult and as a friend, listened to her opinions, and was genuinely curious as to what she thought about various topics. Amy now felt silly about the jealousy she had felt when Suzanne first started going out with Robert. Amy now understood what they saw in each other. Perhaps on the surface they had nothing in common, not age, not interests, not manner of dressing, not career paths. But deeper down, their lives were indeed the same. Suzanne and Robert had both lived hard, lonely lives, shaped by personal tragedy and dysfunctional relationships. They had the same drive, the same sense of belief in themselves, and now a shared belief in each other. Suzanne's eyes reflected a deep contentment in her life. Robert seemed so much more relaxed whenever Amy saw him. Amy's life continued to be filled with Burnside's work during the depth of the Spring semester. There were the endless quizzes, the multiple-chapter reading assignments, the harsh questioning in class. Most of Amy's classmates were terrified of Burnside, her acidic comments, her harsh grading, her endless supply of red ink. By the end of February, over half of the students had dropped out of both classes. Amy remained among the survivors. Burnside seemed to call on Amy more in class than on most of the other students. Often if another student did not know the answer, Amy ended up being the second student Burnside called upon. Amy realized that Burnside expected her to shoot back the correct answer, no matter what. Burnside was particularly hard on anything Amy wrote. Red ink invariably stained anything returned to Amy that had passed in front of Burnside's eyes. Anyone seeing Amy's papers would have thought that Burnside totally hated her, but that was not the case at all. Amy almost had a feeling that Burnside had something in mind for her for the future, but could not imagine what that could be. The increased pressure on Amy pushed her to study all that much harder. Amy's character was undergoing a transformation as a result of the challenge being thrust upon her. She was becoming harder, more driven, more determined. In the same way that her body had become trim and hardened by a year of working out, Amy's spirit strengthened as a result of the experiences she was having in college. Amy reflected that the vacillating high school girl who took off with Courtney on that road trip almost two years ago was long gone, as was the emotional wreck picked up six months later by Robert at the police station. Amy reflected that had she and Courtney known each other now, their relationship would have been very different that it had been in high school. There was no way now that Amy would have let Courtney push her around. Probably they would not have gotten along at all. ---------- Amy experienced yet another change in her life during the spring semester. Since the beginning of the semester she had noticed a male classmate glancing over at her every so often during class. He was fairly good-looking, and had a nice expression. He never missed the chance to catch a glimpse of Amy, especially when Burnside called on her to answer questions. Amy noticed that when Burnside called on him, he always seemed prepared as well as she was. Gradually Amy realized that he was interested in her and had set a goal of trying to impress her the only way he knew how, by being prepared in Burnside's class. Two days after the Mardi Gras party, Amy's classmate did something unheard of in Burnside's class, he raised his hand and challenged her opinion about the development of Latin America. Several Latin American political theorists of the Dependency School had a totally different perspective on the region's development than the model Burnside was promoting, he pointed out. Burnside patiently listened, then pointed out. "Well, Paul, don't forget, your authors are Marxist, and approaching this from a political and social perspective, not an economic one. Which do you think is correct?" "Dr. Burnside, the Latin Americans will argue that social and political conditions set the pattern of economic development, while you are arguing the opposite." "That's right. And there's where the fundamental difference lies in our fields." Burnside discussed the discrepancies of development models for a few minutes, then returned to her class topic. She did not shoot Paul down for challenging her. She acknowledged the difference of opinions between fields, and accepted it. Paul seemed like a decent enough guy, and at least smart enough to come to class armed with information different from what Burnside had. Amy decided to at least give him the chance to get to know her. The next time he glanced over, she smiled at him. There, she thought, that should do it. Sure enough, after class he approached her. He was unsure what to say, having come this far. Amy pushed him again with a smile. He would have to make the next move. He paused, then nervously plunged ahead. "What do you think about Burnside's opinions about Latin America's dependency on the US? I was wondering, because in my Central American history class we're looking at dependency theories which are almost the opposite of what Burnside is saying." Amy smiled internally. Obviously Paul was not a master at pick-up lines. Somehow that comforted her. "I haven't taken the Political Science requirement yet." responded Amy. "I'd be interested in hearing what you picked up from your other class." With that she opened the door for an invitation to lunch. It was an absurd posturing between two people who really simply wanted to say "I find you attractive. I want to know you better." But it was an opening between Amy and Paul, which was what mattered. The next step was a pizza at the Student Center. That part was easier, once the excuse to get together had been pushed out of the way. The class topic lasted a total of 30 seconds. Amy and Paul began to share things about themselves, to get to know each other. Since the beginning of the semester, Paul Glisan had noticed Amy in class. She was pretty, but that was not why he was attracted to her. Paul saw something special in Amy. He liked her intelligence and drive. He liked her honesty and sincerity, which was evident in the way she spoke and carried herself. He badly wanted her. Amy wanted to find out as much about Paul as she could during this first lunch. He was a political science major and interested in journalism. He was a year younger than Amy, about to turn 19, whereas she was about to turn 20. In many ways he seemed older than the age on his driver's license. He spoke French and had traveled in Europe as a high school exchange student. Amy quickly found out he was opinionated, coming from a working class community suffering from massive lay-offs. He challenged the neo-liberalism currently in vogue in the US, using political science as his back-up. Amy saw in Paul a person with the strength of character to state an opinion in class, knowing his professor would not agree. Paul was not loud or obnoxious, he was not rude or abrasive. Nor was he a flake or a wimp. He was handsome, but in a quiet, unassuming way. He was not much taller than Robert. His short brown hair and conservative appearance contrasted with his non-conformist views about the US and its political system. Amy had her second class to go to, but agreed to meet Paul later to work out in the gym. They spotted each other on the bench press and made observations about each other's routine. They both had to study that night, but agreed to meet for dinner the following evening. He took her out to a fairly nice seafood restaurant. They discussed politics a little, and a little about their lives in high school. Paul talked at length about his hometown and how his experiences in high school affected his outlook on life. He was bitter about the effect the factory closings had on his family and his friends. He learned to sympathize with the unemployed of Europe and Latin America, and saw the world as a whole as a result of what he witnessed in high school. Political Science gave him the tools with which he could begin to understand what had happened to his town, his family, and so many others around the world in similar situations. Amy realized that the bitterness he felt over the fate of his community had focused him at an early age, which in turn had forged a solid character. He lacked the shallowness of most of his classmates. They spent the next few weeks slowly taking their time to know each other. They went to movies and out to eat, to art galleries and for hikes along Lake Michigan. They met every day to workout together in the university gym. One night they even went bowling. It was clear that Paul wanted her, but he never brought up the subject of sex. Amy was grateful for that. She wanted to go slow this time. She wanted to know the person with whom she would have her next sexual relationship. She realized that was what Paul wanted as well. This relationship was a new experience for Amy. In high school she usually had sex on the first date. Sometimes she had been so drunk that she did not remember whether or not she had sex, or if so, with whom. Some of the guys with whom she hung out in high school now reminded her of animals, worried about mounting as many of their classmates as possible, and not thinking about anything else. Amy now was disgusted with herself for having gone along with that. She realized how lucky she had been never to have contracted venereal disease or to have become pregnant. The relationship with Paul was a new experience for Amy for another reason. Amy had the opportunity to have a boyfriend for the first time without facing Courtney's disapproval. Amy now was free to make her own choice concerning whom she would go out with, free from the slavery of peer pressure. Paul was so different from what Courtney considered desirable in a guy that Amy felt defiant dating him. Amy realized that her relationship with Paul was her final break from Courtney and her values. Courtney, for example, would have taken Bill over Paul in a heartbeat. Paul and Amy started spending more time together working on Burnside's coursework, especially on the weekends. Amy still had Wendy help her with the equations, but Paul seemed to be better with understanding the actual theories. Wendy was true to her word about spending the hours with Amy for her to understand the equations. Wendy spent most of her free time with Amy on weeknights, patiently guiding her through the formulas she needed for her new major. The weekends were a different matter. Wendy seemed to be preoccupied with some very serious commitment and increasingly was gone Friday and Saturday nights. She was no longer available to go out for fun. Amy wondered about Wendy's absence, but now she was spending more and more time with Paul. Increasingly, Amy looked forward to seeing him. The times they were apart seemed longer and longer for her, even when she was separated from him for just a few hours. Slowly, Amy was falling in love. ---------- Amy's 20th birthday came just before Spring Break. It was obvious that Amy would introduce Paul to her friends during her birthday party. Finally the time had come for Paul to learn more about Amy's past and her wanderings. Amy first introduced Paul to Suzanne the night before her birthday. Amy smiled as she watched Suzanne's eyes scan Paul, contemplating his suitability as a model. Suzanne's mind never seemed to be able to quite leave her work. They sat down for dinner, as Suzanne explained her life and what she did as a photographer. She hinted that she would like to have Paul pose for her. Amy gathered that under the right circumstances, he would be willing to model for her, judging from his interest in her work. After dinner Suzanne showed Paul her portfolio, including the pictures she took of Amy. Amy pulled out an extra copy of the workout book and presented it to Paul. Paul thumbed through the book, dumbfounded, then looked up at the photographer and her model. Amy smiled at him. There was one more thing that Paul needed to know. Amy pulled out the three portraits that Suzanne had taken of her last November in Detroit. Paul studied the pictures for several minutes. They had a story, that much was clear. Paul looked at Amy, but said nothing. He knew that she would tell him when she was ready. He could wait. Amy and Paul walked around her neighborhood while Suzanne cleaned up. They held hands. Finally Amy was ready to talk about herself. "Paul, what do you think of those last portraits I showed you?" "I don't know. I never saw someone look that upset in a picture before." Amy paused. Finally she began "You know, Paul, two years ago I was very different from who I am now. You wouldn't have recognized me." Paul stayed quiet, waiting for Amy to continue. Finally, Amy told him her story. Amy concluded "I owe two people my life, my sense of direction: Robert, who literally saved me; and Suzanne, who taught me to see the world in a way totally differently than I had been used to. You'll meet Robert tomorrow. Whatever you think of him, remember one thing. He saved my life. I wouldn't be here without him." When she finished, she looked into Paul's face. His expression had not changed. He cared for her as much now as he had before. Paul held both Amy's hands and pulled her to him. She threw her arms around him and buried her mouth into his. For a long time they stood on the dark sidewalk, holding each other, kissing passionately. Amy was wet. She pressed against Paul and could feel him stiffen under his pants. They pulled apart a little. She smiled slightly and looked into his eyes. She said nothing, but in the darkness Paul clearly read the message in her face, "Paul, I'm ready. Thank you for waiting for me." ---------- Suzanne conveniently had taken off before Amy and Paul returned to the apartment. As soon as the door closed behind her Amy took off her jacket and her shoes. She then started to strip Paul. Amy unbuttoned his shirt and loosened his pants. She pushed the clothes off him. His pants and underwear bunched up around his ankles. She ran her hands over his chest and down his legs. She moved her hands behind him and squeezed his bottom. Paul was hard, but he was content for the moment to simply enjoy Amy's hands on his body. In a way it thrilled him to be naked and Amy still fully dressed, his bare skin pressed against Amy's coarse clothing. He drew her face to his and kissed her passionately. He stepped out of his clothes and threw his arms around her. He buried his mouth in her neck, enjoying the feel of her skin on his lips and the faint smell of the shampoo in her hair. Amy ran her hand between his thighs. She lightly touched his balls to tease him and ran her hand though his pubic hair. She avoided touching his penis. She wanted to tease him, drive him wild with excitement. He kissed her neck hard, pushing his face past the back of her sweater. Finally he moved his hands to the buttons of Amy's sweater. His nervous fingers struggled with the buttons and finally undid them. Amy's sweater fell to the floor. Paul's attention was drawn to Amy's chest. He kissed her throat and moved down her chest, burying his face between Amy's small breasts. He gently kissed each of her nipples. Amy gasped with pleasure and excitement. Paul kissed Amy's stomach and returned his attention to her breasts. She ran her fingers through his hair and over his shoulders. Finally Paul unbuttoned Amy's jeans. She pushed the course denim past her hips to her knees. He kissed the fronts and the insides of her thighs. Sweat ran down Amy's face. She was incredibly wet between her legs. It was the first time anyone had touched her there for over a year and a half, discounting her tormenting of Bill, whom Amy considered barely human. In this moment, in spite of the physical sensations pulsating through her body, Amy realized something else. It was the first time in her life that Amy had been touched there by someone who loved her. Paul pushed Amy's jeans and underwear past her calves and over her ankles. Amy stepped out of her clothes and now was as naked as Paul. Paul knelt in front of her. He grabbed her bottom with his hands and pressed her legs into his face. He slipped his face between Amy's thighs and gently kissed the tender skin near Amy's vagina. Amy squeaked with pleasure and anticipation. Suddenly Paul placed his arms under Amy's back and knees and picked her up. She threw her arms around his shoulders as he carried her to her room. He gently placed her on her bed. She rolled on her stomach as Paul kissed her neck and shoulders. He ran his kisses and hands down her back and over her bottom. Feeling Paul's hands and kisses on her bottom drove Amy wild with excitement. She thrust up, exposing herself completely to him. Gently he ran his hands over her bottom and between her thighs. He teased her labia and finally ran his fingers over her clitoris. Amy was so excited she could barely breathe. The sight of Amy's body, the feel of her soft skin and firm muscles underneath, and smell of Amy's arousal excited Paul in a way he had never experienced. Amy was only the second woman with whom Paul would have sex. She was far more loving and passionate than his first girlfriend had been. Paul was no virgin, but Amy was about to open up a world of pleasure and passion to him that he had only fantasized about before. He gently rolled Amy on her back and returned to kissing and touching her breasts. Slowly he moved his caresses down her stomach and between her legs. She spread wide for him. Gently he kissed her labia and moved his tongue over her clitoris. Amy groaned in delight. Paul could barely stand it, he was so aroused himself. He entered her and began thrusting. At first he tried to be gentle, but quickly instinct and passion took over. He thrust hard and fast. Amy squealed with delight. Her breath came out in uneven gasps. She had two orgasms, one right after the other. Paul released into her, but continued thrusting, desperate to make this as pleasurable as possible for Amy. They were both drenched in sweat by the time they were done. Amy and Paul held each other closely, desperately, when they finished, afraid to let each other go. They were covered in sweat and smelled of sex. Paul gently brushed a wet strand of Amy's hair out of her eyes and stared at her with and intensity that almost frightened her. Amy, who had experienced sex so much in high school, suddenly felt like she was a virgin, having had sex for the very first time. In a way Amy was very much a virgin. This was the first time that she had been intimate with someone who actually loved her, and she actually loved, as opposed to the drunken mating she had been used to in her past. This was the first time for Amy that her sex and her love were focused on the same person. It was the first time in her life that she saw the true possibilities of sex, of the real pleasure it could bring if experienced with the right person. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 13 ---------- Amy had a quiet birthday with Robert, Suzanne, and Paul. As was becoming typical for her, Wendy was gone over the weekend. She did not tell Amy where she was going. Amy was left with the impression that Wendy's trip was important, maybe something related to her father's business. Amy was hugely disappointed that Wendy could not be with her to celebrate her birthday. Robert and Suzanne prepared a nice dinner for Amy and Paul. The dinner was topped off with a cherry birthday cake, Amy's favorite. Paul and Robert got along with no problem. Paul and Robert exchanged their life histories. Paul took an interest in hearing about Robert's work and his opinions about different Federal court cases Paul had been studying. They discussed politics, with Amy joining in. They came at their issues from different perspectives: the lawyer, the political scientist student, and the economics student. As the minutes of political talk dragged into hours, Suzanne sat looking at her companions with glazed eyes. Politics did not interest her at all unless it was an issue affecting freedom of speech or artistic expression. Finally she became so bored with the others that she took care of the clean-up by herself. ---------- Amy and Paul returned to her apartment for what would be their second night of sex. After having spent just one night together they still needed to learn about each other's needs and desires. Tonight Amy was not in the mood to have sex right away. She wanted to feel Paul's naked body and have him feel hers. She wanted foreplay. Then she wanted sex. Paul and Amy quickly undressed and sat together on the sofa, listening to romantic songs. She sat next to him, her body pressed against his. For a long time she was content just to have her head on his chest, with his arm around her shoulder. Paul suddenly had a desire to run his hands over Amy's back and bottom. He motioned her over his lap. Amy's heart raced with excitement at the thought of lying across Paul's lap. As his hand passed gently over her bottom, Amy's flesh tingled with excitement. She shifted position to accommodate herself better over his thighs and lift her bottom a bit higher. He gently ran his hand between her legs, and then returned his hand to caressing her bottom cheeks. Amy groaned with anticipation. She could feel Paul's penis pressing against her hip. Amy and Paul both realized where this was heading. Amy's next words excited Paul more than he could have imagined. "You know Paul," she began softly "I'm 20 and I haven't had my birthday spanking yet. And I didn't get one for last year either." Paul was so excited about the prospect of spanking Amy that she could feel his heart beating. Teasingly he answered "Well, I guess that's why you've been so naughty." Paul moved his hand to the middle of Amy's right bottom cheek. She teasingly bounced her bottom up and down, to let him know that she wanted nice hard slaps. She felt wild with her sensation of submission to him. SLAP! Paul brought his hand down sharply on Amy's bottom. The pain was just right for Amy. She squealed with delight. Paul gently rubbed his hand over Amy's bottom. SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!... Paul spanked Amy on alternate bottom cheeks. He spanked her hard, but slowly and lovingly. Amy groaned with excitement. SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!... After 12 swats, Paul stopped to admire the blotchy pink color on Amy's bottom. Amy was so aroused that she could barely stand it. She started rocking back and forth on Paul's leg, rubbing herself against his skin. Her breath came out in uneven gasps. Paul gasped with excitement. He gently ran his fingers between her bottom cheeks and teased her between her thighs. Suddenly he moved his hand back over bottom. Slowly he gave her the final eight slaps for this year's birthday spanking. SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!... Amy bit her lip from the combination of pain and pleasure. SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!... She rubbed herself hard against Paul's leg. Paul paused, to let Amy know that she was halfway through her birthday punishment. He gently ran his hand over her bottom, enjoying the redness and the heat of Amy's bottom cheeks. Without warning, Paul resumed spanking Amy. For her 19th birthday spanking Paul spanked Amy even harder. He seemed instinctively to know what she wanted. SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!... Amy was now in serious pain, but that pushed her even harder towards intense pleasure. She groaned again. The smell of her sex permeated the living room. SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!... Paul's penis pressed harder and harder into Amy's side. The sight of Amy's bouncing red bottom, the feel of her body rubbing back and forth on him, the sound of the loud slaps and Amy's groans, the smell of her arousal, took Paul to a completely new level of excitement. SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!... Paul finished Amy's second birthday spanking with a series of hard swats. Paul grabbed Amy's bottom hard. He rubbed her with passion. Suddenly he motioned her to get up and guided her onto her elbows and knees on the floor. He ran his hand between her legs. She thrust herself out as far as possible for him The sight Amy's bottom-hole and vagina, spread wide between her deep pink bottom cheeks, drove Paul wild. He grabbed Amy's thighs and pressed into her. Paul thrust hard, but tried to delay his orgasm as long as possible. Amy screamed with pleasure. Finally Paul released into Amy. His voice broke slightly with each gasp. He moved his hands to her breasts. Amy groaned. Her body shook from passion and exhaustion. Tears and sweat ran down her face. They moved to her bedroom and tore the blankets off her bed. For a while they simply lay in bed. Amy rolled on her stomach to let Paul enjoy the sight of her bottom again. She reached out and massaged the tip of his penis with her fingers. Suddenly Paul was hard. Amy rolled on her back. Paul pressed down on her. He thrust hard, but did his best to go slowly. This time was even better for him. He was exhausted and covered with sweat when he finished. This second time left Amy so tired that she was almost dizzy. Amy and Paul were so exhausted that they slept soundly until the next morning. They got up, sticky and reeking from their passion from the night before. They cleaned up and had breakfast. Still naked, Paul sat down at the table and admired Amy's body as she moved about the kitchen. As much as he wanted to help her with the cooking, he could not resist the simple pleasure of sitting and enjoying the sight of Amy's attractive figure as she fixed breakfast. They sat across the kitchen table from each other, smiling and enjoying being together. Amy was grateful that Suzanne had not come back that night. Suzanne, after spending her evening with Robert, usually came back around 11:00 or so. However, knowing that Paul would be with Amy, she stayed with Robert until the morning and went to her classes straight from his apartment. Finally classes beckoned both Amy and Paul. Reluctantly they got dressed and walked together to the university. Separating to go to their classes was hard. Amy had her geology requirement to go to. Rocks. How in the hell could she think about rocks after the night she had just enjoyed? The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 14 Chapter 14 - Wendy's Ghosts People are full of surprises, as Amy was about to learn. The person you think you know the best, your closest friend, your family member, your lover, can conceal any number of dark secrets from you. It is human nature that all of us have our failings. It is human nature that each of us tries to conceal those failings from those closest to us, from those who we love the most. It is the fear of judgment, of rejection, over those failings drives people to do strange things in their lives. Often the person you think most perfect is the one who is the one most deeply in trouble. ---------- The week of Spring Break Amy felt more at peace in her life than she had ever felt before. A new relationship, good grades in her classes, financial security, excellent health, the beauty of springtime, the promise of summer, the love of her friends; the world seemed to open up to her in a way it never had previously. The happiness of her life showed in Amy's face. Long gone was the sad expression in her eyes that had so captivated Suzanne's camera a year ago. On the warm, sunny afternoon on the last day of Spring Break Suzanne followed Amy around the university and took a series of portraits. The Spring sunlight reflected in Amy's eyes and smile. Amy was the perfect picture of beauty and contentment. The focus of Suzanne's photos of Amy changed from an emphasis of the underlying pain to a feeling of joy with life. It was the first series of portraits taken by Suzanne that did not have a sense of sadness in the images. Suzanne reflected that it had been exactly a year since she had held Amy in her arms to help her get past her flashback of Courtney's death. What a change in her friend! The illusion of perfection in Amy's life could not last. Amy was about to be shocked out of her complacency and face yet another crisis from the person she least expected, from her friend Wendy. The night after Suzanne took the university portraits, Amy decided to go over her term paper for Burnside's Theory of Economic Development class one last time. The paper was due the next day, the first Monday of classes after the break. She had read and re-read the paper, trying to put herself in Burnside's head, looking for defects. Most certainly the defects were there, but with every revision they were fewer. Finally Amy set the draft aside. Whatever its deficiencies, she had to print up the final copy and go to bed. Burnside would rip it apart with red ink, and Amy had to accept that fact. She had done her best. She hit the print button on Suzanne's computer. Just then phone rang. Amy looked at the message machine. It read "Atlantic City, NJ - Fast-Mart Gas # 364". At first Amy decided not to pick up. Who would call from Atlantic City? Five minutes later the phone rang again. Again Amy read "Atlantic City, NJ - Fast-Mart Gas # 364" This time Amy picked up. There was nothing on the other end for a few seconds except the sounds of traffic. Suddenly she heard a sob from Wendy's voice. "Wendy?" Amy listened to another sob. "Wendy, is that you? What are you doing in Atlantic City?" There was silence on the other end. Amy realized that something bad had happened to Wendy, something really bad. "Wendy, talk to me! Are you OK?" "No!" Wendy sobbed again. "Are you hurt?" "No!" Amy paused. "Wendy, can you get back to Chicago?" "No!" "Wendy, I need something else out of you besides 'no'. Why can't you come back?" "I'm broke!" Suddenly Wendy broke into a series of sobs. Amy paused, wondering what to do next. Finally she realized that she needed to find out where Wendy was staying. "Wendy, do you have a place to stay?" "No!" "Can you see a motel from where you are?" "...There's a Jackpot Inn..." "Go there. Call me from the front desk. I'll put a room for you on my credit card." Wendy cried again. "Wendy, did you hear me? Go to the Jackpot Inn. Call me from the front desk." Amy hung up, waiting for the second call from Wendy. Suzanne came into the living room and reached for the phone to make a call. "Suzanne, you got to wait. Wendy's in Atlantic City. She'll call in a minute." "What's she doing there?!" "I don't know. All I know is that she's broke. I got to get her a motel room." Suzanne looked at Amy, processing the information. Suzanne's expression suddenly became very serious. "Oh my God!" The phone rang again before Amy had a chance to say anything further to Suzanne. Wendy seemed incoherent. Finally Amy asked her to pass the phone to the desk clerk. Amy gave the clerk her credit card number to book Wendy for two nights. Wendy got back on to ask if Amy could wire her some money. Amy started to make arrangements when Suzanne suddenly grabbed the phone out of her hand. She shocked Amy by sharply admonishing Wendy. "Look, Wendy, you're not getting any money! Amy will be out there to pick you up as soon as she can book a flight! But no money! Put the clerk back on!" There was a pause. Amy thought she could hear Wendy crying again. "I said no! No more money!" Suzanne talked to the clerk. "Look! I want to make something clear. We booked Wen-Chuan Li for two nights. That's it. Do not put anything else on that credit card!" Suzanne took down the motel's contact information and Wendy's room number. She asked the clerk to put Wendy back on. "Wendy, you get in that room and you stay there! I'll get Amy to the airport as soon as she can get a flight. I'll call you. Don't leave that room!" Suzanne hung up. She grabbed the credit card from Amy and dialed the phone number on the back. She passed the phone to Amy. "Cancel this card!" Amy looked at Suzanne dumbfounded. "Cancel the card, Amy, now!" Amy canceled the card, telling the operator to keep all charges up to the last one to the Jackpot Inn, but to not accept anything else. She hung up, now very irritated. "Suzanne, what's going on? That was my only credit card!" "Put two-and-two together. Wendy is stranded in Atlantic City. She's broke. What does that tell you?" Amy gave Suzanne a blank stare. Suzanne let out an exasperated sigh. "What do people do in Atlantic City, Amy? What's the name of the place where Wendy is staying?" Finally Amy realized why Suzanne was so panicky about the credit card. Wendy had gone to Atlantic City over Spring Break to gamble. Obviously she had lost everything. ---------- Suzanne drove Amy to O'Hare immediately. Amy went on stand-by for a flight to Atlantic City. In the meantime Suzanne made car rental arrangements for Amy in Atlantic City and obtained directions for getting to the Jackpot Inn. Amy gave Suzanne instructions for turning in her term paper to Burnside. Suzanne would deliver the paper in person and explain that her roommate left due to an emergency but would be back by Wednesday. Suzanne would pick up any assignments to pass along to Amy. Suzanne also would talk to Robert to make the return trip arrangements as soon as Amy called from Atlantic City. Amy took the first fight out at 5:00 am. She was in Atlantic City a couple of hours later, driving a strange car in a strange city. She had not had any sleep for 36 hours. She was sick from the flight. She was not in a good mood. Finally she found the Jackpot Inn. The clerk gave her a key card, since Amy had been the one to reserve the room. Amy pushed the door open. Wendy was completely dressed, curled on the bed in a fetal position with her back to the door. She had not even taken her shoes off. There was no luggage in the room. Amy walked up to her and touched her shoulder. She heard Wendy snivel. "Come on. I came to take you home." Wendy did not budge. Amy shook her. "Leave me alone." "Wendy, let's go. I've got to get back. You do too. Classes start up again today." "Leave me alone. I can't go back." "Don't be ridiculous. You've got to go back with me. Suzanne booked us tickets for this afternoon." "I disgraced my family. I can't face my parents. You go back alone." "Wendy, you lost some money. Your parents will forgive you. You did something stupid, but you have to move on. There'll be another check from the book this month. I'll lend you what you need until then." "It's not the money. I disgraced my great-grandmother. I pawned her jade pendent. I pawned it to gamble." Wendy sobbed. Amy pondered what to do. Finally she answered "We'll go get it. I'll pay it off. Then we'll go home." Still, Wendy did not move. Amy, exhausted, irritable, and disgusted with her friend's stupidity, had enough. She went to the bathroom, filled the ice bucket with water, and poured it on Wendy's head. "Get up, now!" Wendy coughed and wiped her face. Amy pushed her off the bed. Wendy struggled to her feet and gave Amy an angry look. "Let's get your pendant, and let's go!" With that they left the motel. If they had a problem with the wet mattress, well, Amy had paid for an extra night. When they got to the pawn shop, Amy used her ATM card to get the money for the pendant. Wendy had pawned it for $ 2,000. That almost cleaned out Amy's checking account. Amy felt disgust at handing $ 2,000 cash to the creep in the pawn shop. Amy took the pendant. It was deep green, elaborately carved, truly a piece of art. It hung on an antique gold chain. Wendy obviously was expecting that Amy would hand it to her. Amy gave Wendy a hostile look, wrapped the pendent in a paper towel, and put it in her purse. Wendy looked at Amy with distress. "Amy..." "Forget it. You said it yourself. You disgraced the memory of your great-grandmother by pawning this pendant. I'll decide when you deserve to have it back. It's my $ 2,000 that got it out of that pawn shop. It's staying with me." "Amy, it's been in my family for 150 years." "Well, guess what? It looks like I'll be taking better care of your family history than you did. I think I'm capable of keeping it out of a pawn shop." Wendy looked away. Tears ran down her face. Amy had never been so mad at someone in her entire life. She was mad because she cared deeply for Wendy. It never dawned on her that Wendy had a gambling addiction. It never dawned on anyone in Wendy's life that she had a gambling addiction. Amy was still getting over the shock. Amy did not know much about Chinese culture, but she knew that family history is more important in the East than it is in the West. She suspected that Wendy had insulted her family and the memory of her great-grandmother by pawning the pendent in a way unimaginable to a Westerner. Wendy truly had hit bottom. For a second Amy thought about having a quick look at Atlantic City, but decided, no, there is nothing here to see. She had to get Wendy to the airport and on a plane as fast as possible. There was a real chance of losing her. Her depression was so great that she seemed half dead already. Amy wanted to call Robert to see if he could book her an earlier flight back to Chicago. She asked Wendy for her cell phone. Without looking up Wendy admitted to having pawned it as well. "You pawned your cell phone? Wendy, how do you pawn a cell phone?" A trip back to the pawn shop and another, much smaller ATM withdrawal from Amy's bank account assured the retrieval of the cell phone. The clerk smirked at Amy and Wendy from behind the counter. He had seen this many times before. Amy ignored him. "Now, what else do you have in this shop that we need to get, so we don't have to come back?" "Some clothes." "Well, we're not worried about clothes right now. What else?" "My gymnastics championship ring from high school." "That I'll get for you. But I'm keeping it with the pendent. What else?" "The earrings my father gave me for graduation." "My God, Wendy." ---------- Amy drove to the airport. She turned in the car and led Wendy to the ticket counter. Wendy had her driver's license in her pocket; her purse was among the items staying behind at the pawn shop. They boarded the plane for a grim, silent flight back to Chicago. They were in Suzanne's car before sunset. Suzanne said nothing. Wendy was Amy's friend and it was Amy who had to handle her. She dropped off Amy and Wendy and headed over to Robert's apartment. Knowing that Wendy would not be able to face her parents, Amy decided to have her friend stay a few days with her and Suzanne. She ran a bath and ordered Wendy to put her remaining clothes in the washing machine. Then she called Wendy's mother and told her that Wendy was not feeling well and would spend the night with her. Wendy's mother nervously asked what was going on; she had not talked to Wendy in a week. "Please, Mrs. Li. As soon as she feels a bit better I'll have her call you. She's OK, but she needs some sleep." Amy felt guilty about lying to Wendy's mother. Wendy was not OK. The clothes were still spinning when Wendy got out of the tub, leaving her without anything to wear. Wendy was somewhat more modest than were Suzanne and Amy, and clearly wanted something to put on before lying down on the sofa to sleep. "Forget about that," snapped Amy. "Suzanne and I don't wear anything to bed. You don't need to either. It's plenty warm in this apartment." Wendy gave Amy a hurt look and slid under the blanket. Amy sat down on the sofa at Wendy's feet. Wendy lay on her side, her head in her hand, sadly staring at the floor. "OK, so what happened?" Wendy said nothing. "Let's get something straight. You owe me for this. You owe me big-time. You can start with telling me the facts. What happened to you in Atlantic City?" Sadly Wendy got up and sat down at the computer. She seemed to have forgotten her earlier modesty as she logged onto the Internet, then into her checking account. "It's all here." She stepped away from the table and motioned Amy to sit down. Amy scrolled through the withdrawals. Wendy's account peaked at $ 54,000 at the end of January. Then came three airline tickets for weekend trips to Atlantic City. She still had $ 30,000 deposited just two weeks ago. Then came the final trip and a series of ATM withdrawals. She had over-drawn the account by Friday night. It must have been Saturday when she pawned her things. Wendy returned to the sofa and slid back under her blanket. Amy was pondering what to do when the phone rang. The phone call was from the security department of Amy's credit card company. A clerk informed Amy that several attempts had been made to obtain cash advances in Atlantic City with the card number after she had canceled the account. The clerk asked if those requests were from Amy. Amy was stunned. She asked the clerk to repeat the information and passed the phone to Wendy. Wendy's face looked stricken as she listened to the clerk. Amy briefly talked to the clerk again and hung up the phone. Wendy stared at the floor. "I have something else to tell you" Wendy's voice was little more than a whisper. "When I found out your credit card number I tried to use it. I kept getting messages that it had been canceled." Amy sat silently on the sofa, staring at her friend in astonishment. Finally she managed to speak. "Suzanne made me cancel that card right after I made the motel reservations. I was pissed at her because that was my only credit card. So she was right. You tried to use my card to gamble." Wendy, still staring at the floor, bit her lip and nodded. "So I can't trust you, can I?" Wendy shook her head. "Get up. Sit in that chair. I need to call Suzanne." Wendy got up and wrapped the blanket around her. Amy grabbed the blanket and tugged on it. "Look, I didn't say anything about taking this blanket with you. Leave it and get your butt in that chair!" Wendy hesitated, looking at Amy with a forlorn expression. With that, Amy's temper snapped. "I said, PUT THE FUCKING BLANKET DOWN AND GET YOUR ASS IN THAT CHAIR!" Reluctantly Wendy let the blanket fall to the floor and moved to the hardback chair near the wall. She sat down and covered herself as best she could with her hands. Amy admired Wendy's thin, attractive figure as she dialed Robert's number. Of course he did not pick up. Amy left a message for Suzanne. "Suzanne, this is Amy. I know you are there. I don't have a problem with it, but I need you to call me back. I have to talk to you right away." A few seconds later Suzanne called back. "You were right about the credit card." Amy began. "We have a real problem on our hands with Wendy. I need you to come back and pick up all your financial stuff and lock it up somewhere." "It's that bad?" "I'm afraid so. Bring Robert's strap and any other discipline stuff he might have. I wish I could talk to Burnside. She would have what I need for Wendy." Wendy looked up with that last comment. Her sad eyes met Amy's. Amy hung up the phone. "What did you think was going to happen? You not only disgraced yourself, you tried to steal from me. If I gave you half a chance you would steal from both me and Suzanne in this apartment. You admitted that yourself. God knows what you would do to your parents. Look the other way. Right now I don't even want to see your face." Amy's last comment cut to the core of Wendy's soul. Amy had been the one friend in her life who Wendy felt she could truly trust. Wendy had been popular enough in high school, being a member of the gymnastics team. However, she ran with a group of girls who, although popular, would turn on each other in a heartbeat if doing in a friend could somehow increase their standing among their peers. She had done her share of betraying friends and had been hurt several times herself. Amy was so different from that. Wendy knew that Amy accepted her as she was. Amy had been the first person who had gone out of her way to help Wendy through a hard situation at the Halloween Party, doing her best to protect her from Burnside. There was the link between their grandfathers. There were the endless hours they had studied together. And now there was this betrayal. Wendy knew that Amy would not break off their friendship over this. Wendy knew that she had a problem with her gambling addiction, and she realized that Amy would help her get through it. She knew that Amy was right about the pendant. Wendy dreaded the punishment that lay ahead, but she wanted it to happen at the same time. Maybe the shock of a severe punishment would force out this...this thing...that had entered her soul and so far made her waste over $ 60,000. Wendy herself could not understand what had happened to her, why the urge to gamble had taken control of her. Suzanne arrived with Robert's strap and leather cuffs. Amy had hoped that he might have some other restraints, but the cuffs were all he had. "Wendy, get up!" Amy took Wendy's arm and forced her to turn around and face Suzanne. Wendy, in spite of having been naked so many times in front of Suzanne the photographer, cringed with humiliation at being naked in front of Suzanne her friend. Wendy looked away in shame and once again tried to cover herself. Amy led her to the coffee table and forced her to kneel on the floor facing it. Then Amy took out the jade pendent, the earrings, and the gymnastics ring and laid them on the table in front of Wendy. "Please tell Suzanne the story of these three items." Wendy, in a stricken, barely audible voice, told Suzanne the story of her last trip to Atlantic City, the pawning her things, and the significance of the pendent. Amy looked harshly at Wendy. "You're not even a decent gambler. Did you win at all?" Wendy sadly shook her head. "Now for the really lovely part. Wendy, what happened right after I booked your room? What did you do?" Tears dripped off Wendy's cheeks onto her bare arms and thighs. "Come-on, Suzanne needs to hear this." "I...I...asked the clerk for a copy of the receipt...I...took your credit card number to a couple of...gambling places and...tried to get some...cash advances. I couldn't. The credit card was canceled. So I went back to my room." The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 14 "Wendy, I want to get this absolutely straight. You lost $ 30,000 in six days. You called me because you had nowhere to stay. I spent my money getting you a room. I spent my money flying out to Atlantic City to get you. I spent my money getting your pendant back. I missed three classes, two of them Burnside's classes, to do this for you. And the first thing on you mind, as soon as you hang up the phone, is to take my credit card number and try to gamble with it. That was the very first thing on your mind!" Wendy nodded. Suzanne looked sadly at Wendy and shook her head. Amy's lips tensed with anger. "Wendy, I want you to look up." As soon as Wendy looked up Amy slapped her hard across the face. Wendy did not move. Amy slapped her again. Amy was speechless with anger and needed to get control of herself. Wendy said nothing. She knelt quietly as the tears dripped down her cheeks. Amy and Suzanne spent the next few minutes rounding up every scrap of paper in the apartment with any financial information on it. Amy deposited her jewelry and watches into Suzanne's jewelry box. They packed up every small item of any value to put in an overnight bag. Suzanne packed her camera bag. Once the apartment was stripped of anything that Wendy could convert to cash to feed her addiction, Suzanne prepared to leave. Amy handed Suzanne the pendant, earrings, and ring to lock up in Robert's safe. Legally, they now belonged to Amy. As soon as Suzanne left, Amy grabbed the cuffs and ordered Wendy to put her hands out in front. Amy put the cuffs on Wendy's wrists and hooked them together. Wendy would now be unable to protect herself during her punishment. Wendy was so ashamed that she could not bear to look at Amy. Amy stood in front of Wendy and forced her chin up with her fingertips. "Wendy, I'm going to punish you as soon as I get things set up. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Sadly, Wendy shook her head. Amy continued. "I'm your friend and I will stick by you. I'll do what I can to help you. I'll go with you to counseling. I'll help you face your parents. I'll keep your heirloom safe until you are ready to have it back. Tomorrow you will start your recovery from this addiction. But you also have to pay for what you tried to do to me. You have no idea how mad I am at you." Amy grabbed a bar stool from in front of the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room. As soon as Amy set it in the middle of the living room, Wendy draped herself over it. Amy was relieved. At least Wendy was going to co-operate. Once again Amy felt the thrill of seeing the soft brown skin on Wendy flawless bottom stretched tight, this time for Amy to punish. Wendy's skin continued to fascinate Amy. Her anger suddenly mixed with sexual desire. The sight of Wendy's beautiful thin body, bent over and awaiting punishment from Robert's strap, proved too much for Amy to resist. She passed her hand over Wendy's bottom, feeling the smooth cool skin. She feasted her eyes and touch on every detail of Wendy's backside. Amy felt a strange sexual attraction towards her friend; the only time in her life she had ever felt lust for another female. Wendy's face was streaked with tears from the humiliation of having to submit to Amy in this way. She was quietly crying. Suddenly Amy felt a bit guilty and pulled her hand back. Wendy would not be spared her punishment, but she would be spared any further indignity from Amy's touches. Amy picked up the strap. She had only been on the receiving end of this strap, but she had held it enough in the days preceding her first punishment that she knew how it felt in her hand. Amy remembered Robert's technique and would use it on Wendy. She decided to give Wendy a couple of test swats against the backs of her thighs before starting the main punishment on her bottom. Wendy's hands were cuffed in front of her, so there was no issue of her trying to cover her bottom with her hands. CRACK! Amy delivered the first test swat against the upper part of Wendy's left thigh. It made good contact and Wendy jerked her leg a little. Amy studied the reddish rectangle as it darkened. She changed sides and delivered a backhanded blow against Wendy's right thigh. There was just a dull thud. Amy re-positioned herself and tried again. CRACK! That was better. Wendy squealed slightly from the pain. Amy moved to Wendy's left side for the swat across both thighs. Amy swung, but knew even before it landed this would not be a good hit. Amy tried again. This time a nice sharp CRACK! satisfied Amy. CRACK!...CRACK! Amy hit Wendy's thighs again, to make sure she had it right. Wendy sobbed faintly with each of the swats. Amy was now ready. "Wendy, those swats were not part of your punishment. I just wanted to make sure I can use this strap properly. Now, I want you to stay in position. I don't want you bouncing around or trying to stand up. Every time you move, I will give you a swat across the front of your thighs after we're done on your bottom. Do you understand me? Wendy's dispirited voice was almost inaudible. "Yes, Amy. I'll try." In spite of her petite size, Amy was in excellent shape from having worked out over the past year. She had great flexibility in her muscles. She was deceptively strong. Wendy was in for a severe punishment. Amy stepped back, measured her distance, and tapped her target, Wendy's left bottom cheek. She drew her arm back and delivered a tremendous swat to Wendy. A loud CRACK! reverberated throughout the living room. Wendy sobbed loudly. She looked back at Amy with teary eyes. Amy's glance met Wendy's. "Wendy, please face forward. I know it hurts. It's supposed to." Amy switched sides. CRACK! She delivered a backhanded blow to Wendy, as hard as any the Robert could have given. CRACK! A second backhanded blow over the first got a scream out of Amy's friend. Amy moved back over to Wendy's other side. CRACK!...CRACK! She laid two sharp smacks across both bottom cheeks. Wendy screamed and shot up. She struggled against her leather cuffs. "Wendy, what are you doing? Get back down!" Wendy's face was pure anguish. "Get back over the stool! NOW!" Crying, Wendy forced herself back over the stool. Amy patted her bottom with her left hand, and stepped back. CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK! Amy delivered three hard swats across both bottom cheeks. She positioned herself and delivered a two more full-force blows to Wendy's left bottom cheek. CRACK!...CRACK! Wendy rolled off the stool. She stumbled backward and dropped in a sitting position. Instinctively she brought her cuffed hands to her face. She was afraid of Amy. Amy reached down and grabbed Wendy's wrist and jerked her to her feet. Wendy screamed and shook her head. Amy shook Wendy hard by the wrist. "You can't hit me that hard! You'll kill me! "Bullshit! Bullshit! I will hit you this hard and you will take it! Every time you see a slot machine, or a roulette table, or a card game, you'll remember this! If you so much as buy a fucking lottery ticket you'll remember this! With her free hand Amy landed a vicious slap across Wendy's face. "Since you're such a wimp, get on your knees!" Wendy knelt, sobbing as Amy went to Suzanne's studio room. Amy rummaged though Suzanne's outdoor photography supplies and found what she was looking for, some rope. She returned to the living room where Wendy was still on her knees next to the bar stool. Her face filled with fear when she saw the rope. "Back over the stool, Wendy! NOW!" Amy was so angry that she shook. Wendy struggled to get to her feet. She positioned herself over the stool once again. Amy quickly made a preliminary knot with the rope around one of the barstool legs. She looped the rope several times around Wendy's ankles and around her cuffed wrists, joining each ankle to a barstool leg and her wrists to a supporting shaft. She knotted off the rope. Amy suddenly stripped off her shirt. She had been getting hot and wanted full freedom of movement for her arms. Now naked from the waist up, she picked up the strap. She banged it hard on the coffee table. Wendy was crying, not from the pain, but from fear. She was immobilized by the rope. Amy was wielding that horrible strap and seemed almost insane with anger. Wearing just a pair of jeans and bare from the waist up, she looked like an executioner. Amy took up position, measured her distance with the strap, and prepared to lay five full-force swats against Wendy's left bottom cheek. She would do what Robert did, wait a full 15 seconds between swats to allow Wendy to appreciate each one. CRACK! Full force, Amy laid on the first swat. Wendy squealed. The squeal died down into loud sobs. Amy struck again. CRACK! She waited for Wendy to stop squealing and laid on the third. CRACK! Wendy screamed. CRACK!...CRACK! With all her strength, Amy laid on the final two swats and changed sides. The left side of Wendy's bottom was now solidly a dark brownish red, while her right side was covered with uneven reddish stripes. Amy was determined to make the color on both sides of Wendy's bottom match. She tested her position to deliver five backhanded swats to Wendy's right bottom cheek, tapped it with the strap and pulled her arm back. CRACK! Wendy screamed after each of the next four swats. Amy waited for Wendy's screaming to die down to sobs before hitting again. Before the last swat she had to wait a full minute for Wendy to stop screaming. Wendy's bottom was now swollen, a deep brownish red on both sides. She struggled hard against the ropes. Amy shifted sides again for ten swats across both cheeks of Wendy's bottom. Wendy looked back at Amy with horror. Amy glared into her eyes. "I'm giving you ten more. Then we'll see how much more I think you can take. Like I told you, you'll remember this whenever you feel that urge to gamble." Sweat dripped down Amy's face and chest as she laid on the next ten swats. Wendy screamed non-stop. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! The loud swats reverberated throughout the living room. Amy studied Wendy's bottom. It had purplish welts on it and several blood blisters. Wendy's tender skin was badly marked. Amy passed her hand over the welts. Some of the blisters looked pretty serious. It was obvious that Wendy could not take any more on her bottom. However, Amy was not done punishing her. Amy untied Wendy's ropes, but left her cuffs hooked together. She helped Wendy up and guided her to lie face down on the sofa. Amy wiped Wendy's face with a washrag. Wendy was silent, but the tears flowed non-stop down her face. Amy felt a twinge of tenderness towards Wendy, but suddenly remembered her credit card and the pendant. No. Wendy deserved no mercy. Suddenly Amy noticed Wendy's shoulders. Wendy had beautiful thin shoulders. That will be my next target, thought Amy. The strap was too heavy for hitting a person on the shoulders, so Amy got a thick belt from her closet. She would use that. "I want you to get up and kneel next to the coffee table. Put your elbows on the table. Do not move." Wendy's dark eyes had a tragic look in them when she saw the belt. She knelt and put her head down. Wendy was shaking with fear. She looked like she was praying. Amy touched the belt to Wendy's shoulder. "Wendy, please do not lift up your head. Keep it down." CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK! Amy laid 20 cruel swats across Wendy's shoulders, some up and down, some across. Wendy was sobbing again when Amy finished. Wendy's shoulders were almost as red as her bottom, but she did not have any serious welts on her back. Seeing Wendy kneeling at the table, her body shaking with sobs, Amy realized that it was time to end Wendy's punishment. Wendy had done her best to be brave and take the punishment as well as she could. Amy's anger faded. She would skip the swats on Wendy's thighs. She left Wendy kneeling and went to the kitchen to get her some water. Through her tears, Wendy gave Amy a gratified look when she saw the water. It was Amy's sign that the punishment was over. Amy knelt beside Wendy and unhooked her cuffs. She passed the glass to Wendy. Wendy emptied it, put her arms around Amy and cried into her shoulder. Finally Amy stood up. She held out her hand to Wendy and helped her up. Amy guided Wendy to the sofa and covered her with the blanket. She knelt beside her friend and stroked her hair. "I want you to stay here for a while. Suzanne and I will help you get through this. Tomorrow you will get some counseling." Wendy nodded slightly on her pillow. Amy continued. "I want you to give me your checkbook and credit cards. I'll pay off your bills when you get your next check from Suzanne's photo book. I'll get your food and make your car payment. I will take care of you." Amy squeezed Wendy's hand. Wendy nodded and tried to smile. "The only thing I want back for the New Jersey trip is the pawn money, and that's only because I'll give you your pendant back eventually. But, as I said, you'll get it back when I feel you're ready for it. The rest of the New Jersey stuff is on me." ---------- Wendy called her parents the next day, to their huge relief. Later Wendy would have to tell them what happened, but she was not ready yet. Fortunately she did not have any classes and was able to sleep in. Amy, who was as tired as a person can be after having gone almost two full days without sleep, also slept in, not having to go to class until the afternoon. Amy paid off Wendy's credit cards with the final check of her modeling money and then canceled them. There was enough left over to make Wendy's car payments for a couple of months and to pay for the summer session of classes. That was it. For all the success coming from Suzanne's book for Suzanne and Amy, Wendy would not share in that. Her money was gone. At least she was no longer in debt, but that was due to Amy's taking control of her finances. Wendy stayed three weeks with Suzanne and Amy. She went to counseling and got a psychiatrist through the university health system. She realized that she would never get over the urge to gamble; all she could do was manage it. She had a heavy burden to carry, one that would last her entire life. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 15 Chapter 15 - The Second Summer The Spring semester finally ended. Amy's GPA fell slightly due to the difficulty of the classes she had taken. However, she had completed several important requirements for her major and improved her understanding of working with the formulas needed for Burnside's materials. This semester had been, by far, the hardest one she had experienced to date. Amy's character had been tested and she survived. She had accomplished everything she set out to accomplish five months ago when she turned in her course schedule. Amy's biggest accomplishment of the semester was receiving a B+ in Burnside's Theory of International Development class. Of the 150 students who originally enrolled in that class, only 45 remained by the beginning of May. Of them, 37 actually received passing grades. For the semester Burnside did not give any A's. Of the 37 survivors, Amy received the highest grade of the class. She had proven herself to Burnside. ---------- The Spring had been an eventful one for everyone else in Amy's life. Robert's firm was weathering an ugly ethics investigation over the behavior of Suzanne's father. Just before finals, Amy read in the newspaper that Ed Foster had been disbarred and was facing criminal charges. Robert and the other two partners had been called to testify before a Federal Grand Jury, but ultimately would not face any charges. Suzanne's father would face the charges alone, his partners cleared of any accusations of involvement in his activities. What had impressed the investigators had been Robert's insistence on cooperating with them. He never asked for immunity or conditions. He opened his files and the firm's accounts, protecting only privileged client information. He spent hours with the investigators explaining what he understood about the firm's finances. He seemed to want to find out the truth about Ed as much as they did. At first Amy was amazed that Suzanne was not upset in the least about her father's problems or Robert's cooperation with the investigation. Suzanne was worried about the well-being of her step-mother, not her father. Amy wondered what had happened between Suzanne and her father for her to be so totally unconcerned about him. In April, Suzanne's stepmother divorced her father and moved out. Suzanne paid her rent for two months to help her get on her feet while she looked for work. It was obvious that Suzanne was much closer to her step-mother than she was to her own father. A few days after the divorce Amy saw Suzanne and her step-mother sitting together in their apartment. Several boxes of Suzanne's toys and high school items were on the living room floor. Suzanne's step-mother had saved them for Suzanne when she moved out. Amy could tell that her roommate had been crying. She had never seen Suzanne cry before. As Amy slipped out of the apartment, she realized that Suzanne's life had been every bit as painful as her own; probably more so. Obviously Suzanne's father had done something horrible to her when she was still in school. She now knew why Suzanne could care less what happened with her father's ethics violations. She wished that Suzanne could have opened up to her about that part of her life, but perhaps the memory was too painful for her to talk about with anyone. ---------- Suzanne completed the final semester of her graduate degree in Physical Therapy. It was odd that she had struggled to obtain this degree, but now probably would never use it. Still, Suzanne was pleased to have completed this part of her life and proudly put on her graduation gown. Robert, Amy, Paul, Wendy, Suzanne's stepmother, and several of her art friends sat together to watch her graduate. Suzanne's father was absent. For once in her life Suzanne did not take a single picture. Paul commandeered the camera and shot a roll of film of Suzanne and the others at her graduation. Suzanne's friends and her step-mother held a small party for her in the apartment that night, and Paul shot another roll of pictures. It seemed strange afterwards to see two entire rolls of photos in which Suzanne was the subject of every picture. She was the image of happiness on this day, her day. Robert's graduation gift would have been strange for anyone other than Suzanne. He gave her a collection of antique cameras, which would allow her to experiment with her photography. Each camera was in perfect working order, complete with accessories, manuals, and a supply of film for the cameras that did not take 35 mm film. Suzanne looked at her graduation present in awe. Robert must have given this gift a lot of thought and put a huge amount of effort into finding and equipping the cameras. They embraced, then turned to face Paul, who took the first picture of them together. Later in life they would pose for other portraits, but this picture, the first proof of their relationship on film, always would have a special meaning to them. ---------- Amy accompanied Paul to his home in western Pennsylvania to meet his family two weeks after Suzanne's graduation. Both of them were exhausted after the semester they had endured. Amy, having survived two of Burnside's classes, particularly needed to get away from Chicago for a while. There was the upcoming summer semester, as well as a backlog of Suzanne's photography projects that Amy would have to deal with upon getting back. She did not want to think about any of that now. She just wanted to get away and see something else besides textbooks and Suzanne's camera lens. Amy and Paul had a relaxing drive to his hometown. They took turns driving, neither driving for more than an hour before changing. They took three days to drive a distance they easily could have covered in a day, stopping to take short hikes and eat at small restaurants that Paul was familiar with along the route. Amy's feelings towards Paul intensified during the trip, since she quickly realized that she could spend time with him doing anything, or just doing nothing. If Paul was somewhat out of place in Chicago, he was even more out of place in his hometown. He came from a small town of about 150,000 people. The town was set among a large number of abandoned mines and a small steel mill which had closed about three years before. The downtown had been picturesque at one time, but now was mostly shut down. Looming over the downtown, up on one of the hills, was the huge Mega-Mart that had finished sucking the life out of the downtown businesses after the mill closed. Now the Mega-Mart itself was shut down as well, its mission of wiping out the local businesses accomplished. Paul and Amy cruised down the main street of his town. While Amy saw nothing but abandonment and depression, Paul was trying to bring this area back to life in her mind through his conversation. He told her of the numerous adventures that he had with his friends here while in high school. Apparently he ran with a small group of friends who were every bit out of place as he had been. There was no mention of sports, or drinking parties, or anything else other than simple hanging out and driving around. Paul's family consisted of his mother, his sister Julie and her 3-year-old, an unemployed aunt, and a cousin. All of them liked her. Amy could tell that at one time the family had been much better off than they were now. Their house was nice, but needed repairs, their furniture had been expensive, but was badly in need of a good re-finishing. Paul's mother was a school teacher who had moved here after marrying his father. She was well educated, but beaten down from years of living in a bad town and a bad marriage. After divorcing Paul's father, she had been determined to give her two children the ambition and drive needed to get them out of this town. For a while it looked like she would succeed, as both Paul and his sister did well in school. To expose Paul to the world his mother sent him to France as an exchange student during his junior year in high school. The experience of having traveled in Europe opened the world up to Paul, but also made him out of place in his hometown during his senior year. Upon returning home he quickly bored his classmates with his stories about things they had no comprehension of. During his senior year he gravitated towards the other "brains" of his school, all of whom were so different from each other that they continued to learn from their mutual friendship. All of Paul's closest friends, without exception, were gone by the end of the summer after graduating. All of them managed to get out and develop themselves outside their hometown. Paul's sister Julie also had shown great potential in high school, but was undone by the same social pressures that came close to killing Amy. She was a cheerleader and active in the student government before she got pregnant during her senior year. Although she managed to graduate before her pregnancy became too obvious, the stress of dealing with a child had killed her ambition to pursue anything other than her job at Mega-Mart. The Mega-Mart job lasted until the store closed last year. Now she sat home with Paul's nephew, watching soap operas and talk shows with his aunt. Amy and Julie got along, oddly enough. They were the same age, had enjoyed the same music in high school, and had run with similar crowds. Really the only difference between them was that Julie became pregnant in high school and Amy did not. Amy saw a lot of herself in Julie, and Julie saw in Amy what she could have been had she not squandered her opportunities in high school. Meeting Amy had one positive effect on Julie. She was jealous enough of her brother's new girlfriend that she decided to enroll in some community college classes. Paul was typical of a small-town boy in one aspect. He loved to drive around the empty streets for no good reason. Driving seemed to clear his mind and let him think. He seemed to be able to philosophize best when behind the wheel on the streets of his high school years. It was while he was driving up and down the deserted streets that he discussed his sister Julie with Amy. Paul was well aware of the social pressures exerted on Julie when she was in high school. He did not place much blame on Julie for getting pregnant, nor even that much on child's father. Instead he placed the blame on the entire social system and culture, one he considered almost forced high school students into making bad choices. Amy thought about Paul's observation and her own past. She was impressed with his insight. For example, there wasn't much that disgusted him when he was in school more than a pep rally. During his senior year Paul confronted his principal over being forced to attend pep rallies. He said quite bluntly "I don't believe in pep rallies because I don't believe in the values they promote. I don't support glorifying football. And I don't support football because it was a football player who got my sister pregnant. Either you let me skip these rallies or I will take this up with the ACLU." His principal threatened him with expulsion but Paul held his ground. Finally, when the principal realized that Paul was determined to stand by his opinions, he relented and let Paul volunteer in the school library during pep rallies. Amy realized that most of Paul's memories of this town were not very pleasant. Yet Paul's heart seemed drawn to this place in a way that she could not understand. As much as he opened up to her, there were things about him she would never understand. ---------- Of the people at Suzanne's graduation party, the most troubled was Wendy. She stood quietly, forcing herself to smile whenever included in group pictures. She still was stricken by her experience in Atlantic City. Amy had taken over her finances and kept her out of debt. However, Wendy now was almost out of money. She hated herself, because the income from Suzanne's photo book should have taken care of her needs for the next several years. Instead she was broke, due to this thing inside of her, this urge to gamble, and her own unbelievable stupidity. What scared Wendy was that her parents were educating her to take over their business. They were about to entrust the entire family enterprise in her. How could she tell them not to do it? How could she tell them that she would wreck the business within a few weeks and gamble the family fortune? That she had wasted $ 30,000 over six days? That she had tried to steal her friend's credit card number? That Amy had to take away her checkbook and credit cards to keep her from wrecking her life any further? That she had pawned her great-grandmother's pendent? The pendant, now safely locked up in Robert's vault at work, was the detail that hurt Wendy the most. When Wendy was a year old, her great grandmother had her fortune told, and put the pendant around her neck. There was a picture in her father's living room of Wendy, wearing the pendant, sitting on her great-grandmother's lap. Her great-grandmother died three days after the picture was taken, but Wendy always felt a connection to her, as though they really did know each other. Wendy rarely wore the pendant, but for some insane reason had decided to wear it to Atlantic City. Wendy's family had entrusted her with its most important treasure, only to have her betray that trust. Wendy knew that her pendant, passed down from generation to generation in her family, now had to be protected from its current owner. No one knew any of this except Amy and Suzanne. It did not matter. Wendy knew it. She felt that her great-grandmother somehow knew it as well. Several days later, when Suzanne developed Paul's pictures of her graduation party, she started noticing Wendy's eyes and her forced smile. Suzanne thumbed through the pictures, looking for Wendy. She now remembered that Wendy had been very quiet during her graduation party. Wendy was only in the pictures where someone specifically had asked her to join in. Suzanne looked again at her friend's eyes, and noticed the real sadness in them. She realized with alarm that Wendy had not recovered from her experience in Atlantic City. Not at all. Suzanne wondered whether to discuss Wendy with Amy, or to try to get further information herself. Finally she decided to invite Wendy for a photo shoot, this time without Amy. She chose the weekend Amy planned to visit Paul's family, to not raise any questions in Amy's mind about going out alone with Wendy. Wendy's sad expression gave Suzanne an idea for a photo shoot. She asked Wendy to bring several sets of her most worn-out clothing. They went to several abandoned factory sites in Gary on a dreary overcast morning. Suzanne had decided to take a series of black & white photos with one of the old cameras Robert had given her. The bleakness of the locations and the weather matched the bleakness of Wendy's face. Suzanne felt guilty about exploiting Wendy's depression for a photo shoot, but the pictures would sell and it was obvious that Wendy needed the money. Suzanne and Wendy then headed south, to the forest location where Suzanne had photographed Amy the year before, for some outdoor figure studies. Even though it was the weekend, Suzanne did not have to worry about hikers running into them during the photo shoot. There was only one entrance to the area. More importantly, one of the park rangers was a fan of Suzanne's work and agreed to help her. He kept the entrance gate to the parking area locked until Suzanne arrived, then locked it behind her after she drove in. He hung a trail closed sign on the gate, waved at Suzanne, and drove off. They had four hours to complete the shoot before the ranger returned to open the gate. Wendy stripped and left her clothes in Suzanne's minivan. Like Amy before her, Wendy felt the thrill of the sunlight and warm breeze on her body as she walked down the trails for Suzanne's figure shots. She sat on the rocks along the stream and put her feet in the water. She balanced herself on the rocks as she walked upstream. She walked among the trees and across open meadows. However, there was no smiling in this series of pictures. Suzanne was interested in Wendy's underlying sadness, which she planned to incorporate into the over-all mood of this shoot. She took a large number of close-up shots of Wendy's face as the shadows from the leaves seemed to splash darkness on her face. Towards the end of the four hours Wendy's mood seemed to brighten a bit, as the effect of the sun on her body and being outside in this pretty location lifted her spirits slightly. When they returned to Suzanne's vehicle and were ready to leave, the ranger talked to Suzanne for a few minutes and handed her copies of two of her books for autographs. Wendy noticed that Suzanne took her time to write thoughtful comments in them; she did not just sign her name. It was too late to head back to Chicago when they finished, which was what Suzanne had in mind. She rented a room for herself and her model at the small town near the park, then invited Wendy to dinner. It was hard for Suzanne to get anything out of her model about her mood, but upon returning to the room she noticed a folder of drawings that Wendy had been working on whenever she had a few minutes to herself. Suzanne asked to see them. Wendy at first resisted. Suzanne did not press her. Suzanne got undressed, cleaned up, and got on top of her bed. Suzanne's openness about being naked in the room still surprised Wendy, even though she had seen her naked in her apartment daily during the weeks after Spring Break. Wendy could not get away from wearing her oversized T-shirt when in bed, no matter how hot it was. She looked over at Suzanne, who was reading an instruction manual for one of the cameras Robert had given her for graduation. Finally Wendy decided to call out for help. "Suzanne, do you still want to see my drawings?" Wendy passed the folder to Suzanne. She fidgeted nervously as Suzanne carefully looked at them. The quality of Wendy's drawings surprised Suzanne. They were exceptionally good. She drew the pictures Anime-style, as good as the black & white pictures of any published Anime artist. Suzanne was less surprised by the subject matter, having studied Wendy's expression over the last several days. These pictures were clearly the product of a tortured mind, which was what made them so powerful. Suzanne clearly recognized Wendy as the subject of all the pictures. She had done an excellent job converting her own face and body to Anime. Some of the pictures were simply of Wendy's face, reflecting the torment in her soul. The other pictures were S&M images, pictures Wendy had drawn of herself being subjected to all sorts of whippings, bondage, and humiliation. The punishments in the pictures were far worse than anything she had endured in real life. In some of the pictures Suzanne recognized Amy or Dr. Burnside. Images of gambling items were everywhere; slot machines, cards, roulette wheels, neon signs, casino chips. There were dozens of pictures, all variants of the same theme. The picture that was the most telling about what was happening to Wendy was one of herself hanging by the hands on chains in front of a roulette wheel. Each space on the wheel had a different punishment written on it. There were numerous implements at Wendy's feet. Wendy's body had been flogged bloody and was hanging limp. Suzanne could not tell if Wendy had meant to portray herself as dead, but she looked dead in the picture. The other picture that most struck Suzanne was of Wendy kneeling, naked, her hands tied behind her back, in front of the Ace of Spades. Wendy's terrified eyes stared straight out at the viewer. There was a rope around her neck. The desolation of this image, especially knowing the story behind it, deeply troubled Suzanne. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 15 Suzanne, who had spent her college years learning how to heal the human body, was repulsed by the torture portrayed by Wendy being inflicted on herself. However, she found herself fascinated by the power of the images and Wendy's obvious talent. Suzanne looked up at her model, who was staring straight at her. Wendy's expression clearly indicated that she hoped that Suzanne could help her. Suzanne was not sure what to say to Wendy. The pictures spoke for themselves. Finally she forced herself to speak. "Wendy, I don't know what to tell you. I'm grateful that you shared these with me." Suzanne searched for something positive to say about the pictures. "Your work is very good. The self-portraits are as good as anything in this style I've seen that's been published." Suzanne's attention returned to some of the self-portraits done by Wendy. In spite of the obvious difference in styles, the pictures reminded her tremendously of the self-portraits done by the Mexican artist Frida Kahlo. She thought about her comment about publishing. She had good rapport with her editor. Maybe she could get him to publish some of Wendy's work. Suzanne's thoughts returned to Frida Kahlo. Wendy was still staring at her. "Wendy, do you know who Frida Kahlo was?" Wendy thought for a second, then shook her head. "I've heard the name, but I don't know what she did." "She was a Mexican artist who died of cancer. She was as obsessed with her own suffering as you are with yours, and it came out in her work. Your pictures remind me of Frida's. Tomorrow we'll stop at a book store so I can show you her work. You need to see it." The next day Suzanne and Wendy visited a bookstore on their way back to Chicago. Wendy looked intently at Frida Kahlo's pictures, slowly turning the pages. Suzanne ended up buying Wendy the book that had the most complete collection of Kahlo's work, and a separate biography. For almost all of the rest of the trip back, Wendy was engrossed in the images. She especially paid close attention to Kahlo's paintings of herself dismembered. Kahlo's most morbid pictures struck home with Wendy. Suzanne decided to invite Wendy to dinner and to stay with her overnight at the apartment, since Amy still was in Pennsylvania with Paul. Wendy gladly accepted, not wanting to be alone. Suzanne massaged Wendy, which seemed to calm her down somewhat. When Suzanne finally went to bed, Wendy sat at the kitchen table looking at Frida Kahlo's paintings again. Then she started to draw. The tortured images in her own mind spilled out onto sheet after sheet. She was still drawing the next morning when Suzanne got up. Suzanne prepared breakfast as Wendy continued to draw. Finally she asked Wendy to stop and eat. Suzanne looked at the new batch of pictures. These pictures were even more morbid than the ones she looked over two days before. The image that most disturbed Suzanne was one of Wendy's corpse, lying on its back, tied by the hands and feet to a blackjack table. Wendy's stomach had been cut open and her body was filled with cards, money, and casino chips. Suzanne had a hard time looking at the image without getting sick. Suzanne realized what was happening. Strangely relieved, she saw this as a good sign. Wendy was venting her self-hatred through her art. "Wendy, I want to borrow your work. I have an idea." ---------- Suzanne's next book turned out to be her most successful, and her most controversial. Several casinos sued her publisher, unsuccessfully, to keep it from being distributed in Nevada. Robert's partner, the one who had defended Amy from her shoplifting charges, argued the case for Suzanne's publisher. Robert's partner was at the peak of her courtroom performance, savagely confronting the highly-paid casino attorneys. Suzanne, for the first time in her career, had to deal with a large amount of hate mail. The book's title was simply "Wendy". Half of the images in the book were not Suzanne's photos; they were Wendy's drawings. In page after page, Wendy's tormented face stared out at the viewer from both Suzanne's black & white photos and Wendy's Anime images. Suzanne supplemented her photos of Wendy with ones of gambling equipment and casinos. Both Suzanne and Wendy wrote essays for the book, which Amy edited to make flow better. With the success of her friend's joint book with Suzanne, Amy had hopes that perhaps Wendy had recovered from her urge to gamble. At the end of the summer Amy asked Wendy if she wanted her family's pendant back and resume control of her own finances. Wendy thought about it for a moment, then sadly shook her head no. The success and controversy of "Wendy" forced the book's subject to finally face her parents with her gambling addiction. It was a hard blow for them. Wendy openly admitted that she was not sure if she could ever take over the family business. She certainly would not be able to take over any time soon. The only thing she could do was continue her studies, go to counseling, and hope for the best. This did not sit well at all with Wendy's parents. Her father, who had carefully re-invested everything he earned, was stupefied at the thought of $ 60,000, gone, just like that. It just goes to show you can't trust women with money. Wendy's mother glared at her. She had spent her life trying to convince Wendy's father to change his hostility towards women in business and his disbelief in their competency in general. In a flash Wendy had destroyed everything she had accomplished with her husband. It was Wendy's mother who announced Wendy's punishment. "You are not fit to stay in this country. You will go back to Taipei, and my brother will find you a husband." Wendy said nothing, but that night packed some of her clothes and fled to Amy's apartment. Amy tried as best she could to comfort her. Wendy stayed up all that night drawing. The product of her night's work was a detailed image of her family pendant, broken into pieces and splattered with blood. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 16 Chapter 16 - Paul's Secret Desire Amy and Paul returned to Chicago greatly refreshed from their trip to Pennsylvania. They spent nearly three weeks with Paul's family. As had been the case going out, Amy and Paul took their time coming back, spending three days traveling along a different route. Amy thoroughly enjoyed her time at Paul's house, in spite of the family's depressing living situation. She liked his relatives. She was pleased to have put a spark of ambition back into Julie, and to have spent time with Paul's nephew. She helped Julie and Paul's mother in the kitchen and learned several recipes. She also spent several mornings outside, making some house repairs with Paul and Julie. The times she enjoyed the most, however, were daily afternoon trips with Paul to a secluded location in the forest, about 30 minutes from town. A 15-minute hike from the road took them to a stream that had a surprise, a small deserted beach. Paul explained to Amy why this was so special; it was the one secluded place he knew of where it was possible to spread a blanket and not have to worry about ticks. Having lived in France, Paul was more open about his body than a typical person from the US. He enjoyed being nude outdoors. This was another attitude he brought back from Europe that set him apart from the conservative mentality of his neighbors. Amy had become used to spending large amounts of her time in the nude as well, but up to now the she had only been nude outdoors in front of Suzanne's camera lens. The time spent with Paul in the forest, relaxing for hours, swimming, sunbathing, eating cheese and drinking wine, gave Amy truly special memories of her short vacation. There were lengthy love-making sessions under the sun and relaxing naps that followed. There were short walks in which Amy and Paul looked and felt like Adam and Eve must have felt, unencumbered with the stress and trappings of civilization. By the time they left for Chicago they were deeply tanned. ---------- Amy took only one class that summer, an easy English requirement. To Amy's huge relief Burnside went to Europe on sabbatical, so there was a break from being spotlighted in class and from her professor's red ink. Amy's summer was full of other activity. She had promised Suzanne her time for modeling, given the backlog of projects her friend had wanted to work on. Suzanne welcomed Amy back with a notebook containing a list of planned photo-shoots. The photographer was pleased with her roommate's deep, even tan when she returned from Pennsylvania. There were hours of studio sessions in front of Suzanne's camera. At the end of June there was a trip to Nebraska and several days of shooting in a wheat field, with the hot summer wind whipping Amy's unprotected skin. There even was a photo shoot for a chain of coffee houses, in which Amy and Wendy, dressed in company uniforms, smiled at Suzanne's camera with their hands operating the company's espresso machines. Of all the photo shoots, the ad campaign was the toughest. Suzanne had insisted that her models learn how to use the company's equipment before the shoot, which meant that Amy and Wendy actually had to train as employees and serve real customers. As usual, Suzanne's insistence on realism paid off; later that year Amy saw herself and her friend on billboards and bus posters all over Chicago, pushing coffee on the city's consumers. Finally, there was the editing of the essays for Suzanne's upcoming book on Wendy and her gambling problems. As Amy re-wrote passages from the essays, her own bitterness about the damage to the relationship between herself and her friend came out in the revisions. Wendy's problems were the one thing that spoiled Amy's summer. Suzanne's dark, morbid book and its depressing subject matter weighed down on Amy, as did the fact that Wendy now seemed to be able to open up more to Suzanne. Amy was frightened by Wendy's drawings and failed to see their artistic merit. Wendy's quiet, sullen behavior made her unpleasant to be around. Whenever Amy tried to talk about something pleasant, Wendy's dark eyes looked up at her with a hostile expression. Amy realized that the last thing Wendy wanted to hear was how happy she was with Paul. Amy continued to disburse money to Wendy out of the income from Suzanne's pictures. Amy wrote all of Wendy's checks and prepaid her expenses whenever possible. She felt uncomfortable talking to Wendy about her finances. She felt like she was taking care of an irresponsible teenager. Wendy was both grateful and resentful concerning Amy's control over her life. She resented having to ask Amy for permission to use her own money, but at the same time realized that for now she had no choice. The conflict within her came out every time she talked to Amy. ---------- Suzanne wanted a male model. Suzanne's experience allowed her to size up people quickly and figure out how to get their images on film. Suzanne knew that Paul at first would be nervous about having his body documented on film, and went slowly. She worked on Paul by showing him previous work done with other male models. Then she eased him into modeling for her through a joint portrait session with Amy. Amy herself was not aware of what Suzanne ultimately had in mind when she agreed to pose with Paul for a joint portrait together. Suzanne moved from facial shots to standing shots with Paul and Amy fully dressed. Suzanne moved about the studio, as she asked Amy and Paul to start shedding clothing. Before they realized it Amy and Paul were nude. Suzanne ordered Paul to sit down and Amy to sit on his lap. She retook the portraits, then had Amy and Paul pose together for a long series of joint figure shots. Finally Amy stepped to the side, and Suzanne shot a long series of figure studies of Paul by himself. She experimented with the lighting and backdrops. Before either Paul or Amy realized what had happened, Suzanne had shot several rolls of film on Paul alone. The next step was to develop the pictures and present the better ones to Paul and Amy. Paul was deeply moved seeing himself on film like this. He was hooked. Later that week Suzanne took Amy and Paul back to her favorite forest location. Once again her ranger fan locked the gate behind Suzanne's vehicle, this time for two days in a row. Suzanne told the ranger about the progress of her upcoming book with Wendy. She took down his address to send him an advance copy, once the new publication was ready for printing. Amy and Paul left their clothes in the minivan and walked down the trail holding hands, with Suzanne's cameras clicking behind them. Suzanne spent the next two days taking roll after roll of film of Paul and Amy together, and of each separately. Amy was more muscular than she had been last year and her skin was darker, so Suzanne was every bit as interested in Amy as she was in Paul. Ultimately these pictures would be included with a series of landscapes into Suzanne's fourth book, which she planned to call "Eden". The following week Paul posed by himself at the studio in the art department. Amy stayed dressed and helped Suzanne with the lighting and equipment. Paul felt a strange excitement, being naked in front of two dressed women and taking orders. Suzanne's commanding voice thrilled him. Increasingly he felt the excitement of submission. ---------- Paul's new fascination increased dramatically when Amy told him about Burnside's Mardi Gras party and her tormenting of Bill. Paul surprised Amy by wanting to hear all the details. While making love to Amy later that night, images of himself in Bill's situation flashed through Paul's mind. Amy's boyfriend was developing a guilty fantasy. He wanted Amy to punish him. He still was thrilled by any opportunity to spank Amy, but he also wanted Amy to spank him as well. A couple of nights later Paul and Amy were relaxing on Amy's bed. They were undressed, but had not had sex yet. Paul was on his stomach, inadvertently lying on a couple of Amy's textbooks, his bare bottom close to her. Amy wanted to pick up the books and put them away. She reached over and tugged at one of the books. "Paul, move please, so I can get these off the bed." Suddenly Paul decided to stay put and see what Amy would do. "Paul, please move." Amy tugged at the book and became irritable. "Paul, move!" Suddenly Amy slapped Paul hard on the bottom. He stayed put. Amy slapped him hard again, three more times. "Paul, if you don't move, you're gonna get it!" He looked at her in anticipation. Suddenly Amy realized that "getting it" was precisely what Paul wanted. A thrill of excitement ran through her. She got up and pulled a thick belt out of her closet. She doubled it and swatted it through the air. Amy tried to speak with a forced tone of seriousness. The cracking in her voice however, as well as her expression, betrayed her excitement. "OK, Paul, since you want to be that way, let's see what it takes to get you off my textbooks." Paul, for the first time, felt the thrill of waiting for an erotic punishment. He knew that Amy was strong, having worked out with her over the last five months. This was going to hurt. Yet it was Paul himself who would determine when the punishment would end; all he had to do was roll off Amy's books. He was determined to stay on the books as long as he could stand it. Amy rubbed her hand over his bottom. She studied the reddish handprints left by her slaps. She teasingly ran her hand between his bottom cheeks and on his thighs. He had a furious erection and shifted uncomfortably. Amy slipped her hand under him, grabbed his penis, and pushed him up slightly. His bottom was now well exposed for Amy's belt. "Paul, I want you to stay like this until you decide you need to respect my books." Again Amy ran her hand over Paul's bottom and between his bottom cheeks, now that Paul was raised up and his legs slightly spread. Gently she touched the backs of his balls. Paul now was lifted up enough that Amy easily could have pulled her books out from under him. However, the books were no longer the issue. Paul was nervous and excited at the same time. His bottom tingled in anticipation at the soft touches of Amy's hand. She was tormenting him and he loved it. She began gently rubbing the belt on his unprotected bottom. Suddenly she stepped back, measured her distance, and delivered a cruel swat to both of Paul's bottom cheeks. CRACK! Paul jerked from the pain but quickly positioned himself for the second swat of Amy's belt. CRACK! Amy hit Paul hard across the right bottom cheek. She moved to the other side of the bed. CRACK! CRACK! Amy laid two more swats on Paul's left bottom cheek. She moved back around and, full force, laid into Paul with three vicious swats across both bottom cheeks. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Paul gasped. The swats hurt more than he had anticipated. However, the intensity of this experience, and the feeling of submission and vulnerability, totally aroused him. He was so hard he could barely stand it. He desperately wanted to jump up and take Amy. However, he resisted that temptation. He wanted this experience to be even more intense. Amy was totally aroused. She could feel the wetness building between her legs. She studied the pink stripes and ran her hand over Paul's bottom. She noticed his furious erection and desperately wanted to squeeze it to torment him. Amy knew better, however. There was a very good chance, if she squeezed him now, that he would come on the bed and spoil everything. Suddenly Amy remembered Suzanne's paddle. She wanted to try that as well. "Paul, are you ready to respect my books?" He looked up, his eyes wild with excitement. He shook his head. "Then I'll have to teach you. Stay where you are." Paul watched Amy with surprise as she left the room. He was even more surprised when he came back with a paddle in her hand. POP! Amy laid a sharp swat on Paul's right bottom cheek with the paddle. The sting contrasted with the belt swats, but laid on top of them, made them much more painful. Amy decided that she would give Paul 10 swats of the paddle, then start up again with the belt. She decided to hit him on alternate cheeks to concentrate the force of the swats. Lovingly she caressed Paul's bottom. Paul sighed nervously. POP!...POP! Amy swatted hard. Paul shifted back and forth slightly and sighed. POP!...POP!...POP!...POP! Paul grunted, from a combination of pain and pleasure. Amy paused to look at the deepening pink color on his bottom. Where she had laid the belt marks were a dark pink, punctuating the light pink circles formed by the paddle marks. She lightly tapped his right bottom cheek and delivered another pair of hard swats to Paul's right side. POP!...POP! Amy shifted position to lay matching swats on Paul's left bottom cheek. POP!...POP! Paul's voice broke with a gasp. Amy could tell the sound was a combination of agony and arousal. She knew, because she had made noises like that plenty of times herself. Amy picked up the belt again. She was determined to force Paul to get off her books. Paul was every bit as determined to stay over Amy's books as long as he could. Amy gently caressed Paul's deep pink bottom cheeks. Again she teased him by gently stroking the backs of his testicles with her finger tips. She noticed that he was sweating and shaking slightly. "Paul, you haven't had your birthday spanking for this year," Amy began sweetly as she gently caressed his bottom. "That's 19 swats with the belt. I need you to lift up a bit and spread your knees some more." Paul became nervous, not sure if he could take 19 swats of the belt over the paddle swats. He complied, stretching himself for Amy. Amy pressed her hand in the middle of his back to force Paul to turn his bottom up even more. Feeling the cool air against his bottom hole and between his legs made Paul all too aware of his vulnerability. CRACK! Amy laid the first swat at the base of Paul's right bottom cheek. Paul gasped. CRACK! Another swat, slightly overlapping the first, changed the color at the base of Paul's bottom from deep pink to reddish pink. CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!... Amy worked her way up Paul's right bottom cheek with full-force swats, darkening the color. Paul gasped and his breathing became irregular. Amy peeked between his legs. He was harder than ever. The sight of her love on his elbows and knees, with his eyes closed and gasping from the swats, his marked bottom and furious erection, drove Amy wild with excitement. She changed sides. Viciously she attacked his left bottom cheek with the belt. CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!... His voice broke with the last three swats. Full force, Amy laid the final five swats across both bottom cheeks. CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!... Paul's voice broke with each swat. He was covered in sweat. Amy could not stand the anticipation any more. She was so aroused that her voice cracked. "Paul, get up! I don't give a shit about the books! Take me!" Paul stood up, but pressed Amy backwards over the bed. The smell of her arousal hit him. Suddenly he wanted to taste her. He buried her face between her legs. The sensation of his kisses made her climax. "Paul!...Oh Paul!" Paul stood up. He was totally aroused. He wiped his mouth with his forearm and got on top of Amy. He kissed her. The smell of her sex still was on his face, but she didn't care. She grabbed his swollen bottom and squeezed hard. He entered her and climaxed immediately. Amy climaxed again. Paul heard her familiar squeaks as he continued thrusting. He still was totally aroused and stayed hard. He continued thrusting and finally got what he wanted, a second orgasm. Amy and Paul were drenched in sweat and smelled of each other's sex. They finally calmed down and separated. They managed to get their breath back. Paul sat up against Amy's pillows and Amy cuddled in his arms. She fell asleep with his arm around her. Paul stayed awake for a while, contemplating Amy's textbooks, which had fallen on the floor. His bottom, withstanding not only his weight, but also part of Amy's, throbbed. He would not be able to get to sleep until he could get out of a sitting position and relieve the pressure on his welts, but he did not want to disturb Amy. Paul was shocked about this discovery he had made about himself. Tonight he had been aroused in a way he had never could have imagined before. Under any other circumstances he would have been totally embarrassed about letting a girlfriend know about this sexual desire, one that he himself was unaware of before he modeled for Suzanne. However, he also knew that Amy had been as excited by spanking him as he had been receiving her swats. He could share his soul with her and his secret desires. Paul and Amy were excited by the same things. They enjoyed the same type of foreplay. Paul realized how lucky he was to have Amy in his life. He had found his soul-mate. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 17 Chapter 17 - Career Paths Suzanne started the first Fall semester of her life without having any classes to prepare for. This point was driven home when Amy arrived at the apartment loaded down with new textbooks, and Suzanne realized that this semester she had no reason to visit the university bookstore. As Amy laid out her textbooks on the coffee table for the Fall, Suzanne suddenly felt a longing for the security and structure that had been part of her life ever since she was six years old. She already missed her classmates and her art department dean. She had graduated, and the open-ended nature of her life intimidated her a bit. Suzanne stayed very busy, however. She worked on editing her new collection of landscape pictures and the images of Paul and Amy in the forest. Suzanne particularly enjoyed preparing this newest book. The pictures were pleasant and mundane, and reminded Suzanne of the beauty that still existed in the world. There was the usual underlying sense of sadness in Suzanne's newest collection of images, but also there was a peacefulness that was lacking in her other recent projects. This book was a quiet non-controversial work, but its peaceful theme allowed Suzanne to establish herself as a mainstream photographer as well as an artistic one. There was a backlog of other projects Suzanne needed to work on and edit. She had spent the summer taking as many pictures of Amy as possible, suspecting that Amy would be too tied up in the fall to model for her. Now that she had the photos, Suzanne needed to figure out what to do with them. During September, Suzanne made appearances on several local morning news-hour talk shows to discuss her book on Wendy. Suddenly the Chicago press seemed interested in what Suzanne had to say about a broad range of issues, ranging from her opinions of gambling to censorship and artistic freedom. On three different September mornings Amy and Robert watched Suzanne in television studios being interviewed by local news anchors. Suzanne was likeable on television. She was not flamboyant and did not fit the stereotype of an artist who would have created the controversial images of her last two books. Her quiet, conservative appearance and calm, respectful manner of talking contrasted with her daring work. She always had her trademark Victorian-style hair and long, loose skirts. The only make-up she wore was what the news stations asked her to put on to avoid camera glare on her face. She looked totally wholesome. The contrast between the artist and her work disarmed many of Suzanne's critics. A local church group found out the hard way that Suzanne was not a good target. On one morning news show a preacher showed up to confront Suzanne over her work. Suzanne came off calm and respectful while the preacher came off shrill and abrasive. Suzanne quietly made her case for artistic freedom while the preacher tore into her personally and then ranted against the media in general. Suzanne's calm seemed to feed the preacher's anger. At the end of the show segment it was clear who came off looking better in the interview. Suzanne sought as much as possible to shelter Wendy from the fallout from the book about her gambling problems. Several reporters expressed interest in the model and artist of "Wendy" throughout the fall. Suzanne quietly convinced them to not contact her. Suzanne explained that Wendy would not have much else to say than what already was in the book. More importantly, Suzanne, off-the-record, explained that Wendy had not recovered from her addiction. There was a huge risk in pushing her too hard and the potential for bad publicity if anything happened to her. Since Suzanne made herself available to the press and gave thoughtful, honest answers, reporters interested in Suzanne's work respected her desire to leave her model alone. Suzanne was learning how to deal with the press, which made her an important asset for her publisher. Suzanne became a rising star by raising the visibility of her Chicago-based publisher. As the fallout from "Wendy" reached its height, Suzanne was included more and more in editorial decisions for her company. She was an attractive spokesperson and projected the image that her publisher wanted. As a result she started to represent her publisher more and more in public. Suzanne's local profile rose even more when she turned down an offer from a publisher out of New York. Although the new proposal offered her more money, Suzanne realized that her heart was in the Mid-West. She feared that her work would suffer if she left for some other part of the country. Suzanne's apparent loyalty to Chicago won her praise from the local art critics and media. The truth was, however, Suzanne's decision to stay was not out of loyalty to the city, but rather concern that a move to a different area might take away her artistic inspiration. Suzanne had spent her life in the Mid-West, and that was who she was. The Great Lakes, the pleasant countryside and hills to the south, the Mississippi River to the west, the thick forests to the north, the industrial wastelands of the Rustbelt; all of that was ingrained in Suzanne's artistic soul. As an artist she would not survive a move to New York, and she knew it. ---------- What the local art critics did not know was that Suzanne also was committed to staying in Chicago because she was committed to staying with Robert. There was no question that Robert's career was anchored in the Windy City. He had his partners and clients, he had his living arrangements, and he knew nothing else. He often joked that he was an old dog that couldn't learn new tricks. Every time he said that Suzanne elbowed him. He was only 43. Robert's feelings about Suzanne only intensified as their relationship developed. He respected her deeply, in spite of the fact almost a generation separated their birth dates. He had been in high school when she was born. Still, she was mature in a way that Tricia never had been. As much as he loved Tricia, Robert was never able to respect her. Tricia was too screwed up in the head. Suzanne was different. In her quiet way, it was actually Suzanne who became the dominant partner in many areas of the relationship. Robert had been through too much with Tricia and was not in the mood to push anyone around. It was Suzanne who planned their entertainment. It was Suzanne who determined the limits of their sex life. Suzanne was never bossy with Robert; there was no way he would have put up with overt bossiness from her. Instead he was just content to relax with her and let her quietly take command of their time together. Suzanne's command of their time together had been a feature of their relationship from the very beginning. The relationship had begun because of Suzanne. By last October Suzanne was well aware that Robert was attracted to her. She had waited for him to make a move since the end of the summer. When it became obvious that he would not, Suzanne literally took matters into her own hands. On the spur of the moment, in a flash of pain and passion, she was the one who took Robert and signaled to him that she wanted him that morning after Amy's Halloween party. Both Suzanne and Robert took it for granted that eventually they would get married. Suzanne and Robert were, in many ways, old fashioned. They foresaw marriage and children in their futures. In spite of their sexual relationship, there would be no living together until after Suzanne had put on the white dress and had a ring on her finger. Even now, rarely did Suzanne spend the entire night with Robert. ---------- Robert and Suzanne never tired of sex with each other. After nearly a year they were as passionate as they had been last November. Robert still was fascinated by Suzanne's bottom. Often she lay across his lap as he took his time slowly running his hand over her voluptuous bottom-cheeks. The flawless white color and soft feel of Suzanne's bottom held Robert's attention. Suzanne spent endless hours lying across Robert's lap. Sometimes he spanked her. Usually he did not. It was Suzanne who always made that decision. Usually she simply wanted to enjoy the feel of Robert's caresses on her bottom. She loved it when he touched her bottom-hole and gently massaged the surrounding area. She loved the feel of his fingers between her thighs, gently tracing her labia and teasing her clitoris. Sometimes Robert would simply massage her bottom and she would come close to falling asleep, only to wake up again as his fingers teased between her legs. She loved the way that Robert took his time with her. He was never bored with her. He never took her body for granted. About once a month Suzanne wanted Robert to spank her. Suzanne always let him know when she was in the mood for a spanking, but she never asked him with words. The way she signaled him was to bounce her bottom up and down a couple of times while over his lap. If he missed the signal the first time she waited a couple of minutes and bounced her bottom again. Suzanne had to be in the right mood to enjoy a spanking. However when she was in the mood, there was nothing that she enjoyed more than Robert's sharp slaps on her bottom. She loved the sharp stings of his hand, the caresses on her swollen bottom cheeks, the teasing between her legs. Robert always used his hand. Suzanne did not want him to use anything else, nor was she excited by any position other than to be over his lap. She loved the intimacy of that position and of the feel of his hands on her bare skin. Suzanne was driven wild with passion during these sessions. The fact that they only happened once a month or so made them all that much more special for both Robert and Suzanne. They always started on the living room sofa and ended up on the floor with both of them covered in sweat. There was never any role play or games during Suzanne's spankings, just the physical sensation of Robert's slaps and caresses. Apart from the sex spankings, Robert never punished Suzanne after that first self-imposed punishment last November. The very thought of punishing her again never entered his mind. Suzanne's behavior that morning was a huge aberration in her life. Suzanne, who always had maintained her self-control, lost it with Amy. After Robert talked to her, Suzanne felt so bad about her behavior with Amy because it was the only time in her life she became abusive to a person she cared about. In September, Robert did something very special for Suzanne; he modeled for her. They drove to her favorite forest location. Suzanne's ranger fan was there to hang the trail closed sign behind Suzanne's vehicle. Suzanne and Robert walked into the forest a bit, then Robert stripped and put his clothes in a bag. These pictures were for Suzanne. There was no way that they could be published until Robert retired because of his career. After she shot several rolls of film Suzanne ran back to her vehicle and tore off her own clothes. She grabbed a blanket and ran back to Robert. They held hands as they walked naked down the trail, holding the blanket and the bag of Robert's clothes. When they found a nice sunny spot they lay down to enjoy the sun on their bodies and to enjoy each other. The first leaves of fall fell around them as they made love on the blanket. ---------- Suzanne's father was a dark spot in the lives of Suzanne and Robert. Not only was he the subject of a criminal investigation, but of several lawsuits as well. Robert's cooperation with the criminal investigation had an unanticipated result. The plaintiffs filing lawsuits against Ed had a hard time claiming that Robert and the other two law partners had anything to do with Ed's behavior. The results of the investigation and Robert's cooperation made that much clear. Robert's law practice, now reduced to three attorneys, slowly recovered from the whole mess over Suzanne's father. Suzanne's publisher became an important new client for one of Robert's partners after she successfully argued the Nevada lawsuit filed against Suzanne's book. With that the other clients came back, including a couple of Ed's. Robert's career had weathered the storm. Still, the ghost of Suzanne's father was not a pleasant presence in either of their lives. Robert had known Ed since law school and regretted not having picked up on his behavior earlier. Suzanne still was deeply hurt over the events that led to her breaking off her relationship with him. Ed was going to jail, he was wiped out financially, and everyone in his life had turned their backs on him. In a nine month period he had lost his career, his house, his wife, his daughter, and his friends. Soon enough he would lose his freedom. All of this was due to his own actions. Suzanne began to have second thoughts about her treatment of her father last fall. Robert disagreed. "Suzanne, you were right last November. Don't give him the chance to hurt you yet again. If he comes to you asking for forgiveness, then you can give it to him. But he needs to ask you." Suzanne stared quietly at the floor. Robert, seeing the doubt in her face, continued. "Suzanne, two things to remember. Your stepmother left him and I'm sure she had her reasons. And if you still have your doubts, I'll show you my copy of his case file. That should convince you." ---------- Wendy spent the entire fall semester living with Amy and Suzanne, not having anywhere else to go. During the first few days she slept on the sofa. However, once it became apparent that Wendy was going to stay longer than just a few days, Amy bought her an air mattress and Wendy started sleeping in Suzanne's workroom. She had to keep her clothes in Amy's room, but the new arrangement reduced the tension between Wendy and Amy, since it is never pleasant to get up in the morning and have to fix breakfast quietly to avoid waking the guest in the living room. Wendy's presence did not affect Suzanne's life very much, but it definitely affected Amy's relationship with Paul. No longer was Paul able to come over whenever he wanted for as long as he wanted for sex. There were only two times per week when Wendy had classes and Amy did not, which meant that sex between Paul and Amy could not be spontaneous any more. There certainly could be no thoughts of him staying the night. Their time together now had to be carefully planned. The air mattress changed Wendy's status in the apartment from guest to a member of the household. Amy warned Wendy about Suzanne's fastidious habits and insistence on having everything cleaned and picked up. She announced to Wendy that she would start paying a fourth of the rent and that she would share buying food and cooking. Now Wendy accompanied Suzanne and Amy to the supermarket, she was required to cook, and she was required to clean up. The change did Wendy a lot of good and reduced the tension from her being a long-term guest. The moment she saw the air mattress, Suzanne's demeanor changed towards Wendy. She immediately treated Wendy like she did Amy. "Wendy, you are now a member of this household and you will start acting like one! I want those dishes out of the kitchen sink, and for God's sake clean up that toothpaste in the bathroom and get that hair out of the bathtub drain...that's disgusting!" As Wendy rushed into the bathroom with a bottle of cleaner in her hand, Amy smiled to herself. She had warned Wendy what to expect from Suzanne. Wendy filled up her time as much as she possibly could. She had anticipated a hard semester, and to make absolutely sure that she had no time to stew over her problems, took an extra class for her major. She would be up to her neck in her accounting requirements. It seemed that numbers offered her the one viable escape from her memories of what happened to her in the Spring. Wendy was still adrift psychologically. She did fine with her classes, but that was because she could handle numbers in a mechanical manner that did not require her to think or to reflect. Wendy often sought out Suzanne just to talk. There was too much emotional baggage between Wendy and Amy right now for either to feel comfortable around the other. Especially with Amy's control over her finances, it was hard for Wendy to open up to her. Suzanne became the person closest to Wendy during the fall. She was not directly connected to Wendy's Atlantic City disaster enough to intimidate Wendy. However, she knew enough to understand what Wendy was going through. Wendy's break with her parents deeply troubled Suzanne. Wendy's father was not like Suzanne's father. She strongly felt that Wendy belonged at home, not with her and Amy. Suzanne massaged Wendy at least three times a week. Wendy seemed to need the comfort and reassurance of Suzanne's hands on her body. Suzanne was thorough with Wendy, often massaging her for an hour and a half at a time. It gave Suzanne some satisfaction to feel Wendy's tight muscles loosen up as each session progressed. Wendy, who could not sleep at night, often fell asleep on Suzanne's massage table. Suzanne was content to cover her up and let her stay asleep on the table as long as she wanted. Suzanne felt no regret over having published "Wendy". The book sent a powerful message about the risks of gambling. It solidified Suzanne's reputation as a serious photographer. It replenished Wendy's depleted bank account and gave her financial security, assuming that Amy could keep her out of Atlantic City. It gave Wendy an avenue through which she could express herself. Most importantly, it forced Wendy to face her problems head-on. When she was not studying, Wendy drew. Her Anime work branched out from the pictures she drew over the summer. Following in the footsteps of Frida Kahlo, Wendy did a large number of self portraits. She started to experiment with figure studies of herself, converting her body to Anime. One afternoon, before giving Wendy her massage, Suzanne took a series of figure studies for Wendy, specifically to use as poses for her drawings. Suzanne encouraged Wendy to keep herself as busy as possible. Suzanne had mixed feelings about Wendy's art. Some of it was becoming less morbid. Now, not everything Wendy drew had gambling paraphernalia in it. Wendy was not always the subject of torture in her pictures. Her pictures were still very sad, but the artwork was getting even better and more varied. Some of the better pictures deeply moved Suzanne. However, as much as she saw potential in Wendy's Anime work, Suzanne did not want that to be the focus of her friend's life. Wendy was not Frida Kahlo. She had her family, her studies, and her responsibilities. She had to go back to her parents eventually. There was an entire family business waiting for her to take over, if she could come to terms with herself and her vulnerabilities. Suzanne also knew that no matter how good she was at drawing, Wendy was extremely unlikely to make a living off her art. In spite of her doubts, Suzanne gave Wendy several sets of drawing materials and explained how to use them. Wendy began experimenting with more than just pen and ink. ---------- The upcoming semester promised to be a brutal one for Amy. For the fall she was enrolled in another of Burnside's classes as an undergraduate. However, Amy suddenly found herself with a much bigger burden thrust upon her by her professor, two days before classes were due to start. Her new responsibility started simply enough, with an e-mail from the professor that read: Amy: I need to see you in my office ASAP - Burnside - The next day Amy was in Burnside's office at 9:00 am. Burnside got right to the point: "Lisa just got a scholarship. To take it she has to cancel her current contract with the department and change assignments. What that means is she'll have to drop her position working as my assistant. I need you to take over." The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 17 Amy stared at her professor stupefied. Finally she forced herself to answer. "Dr. Burnside, I'm not a graduate student. How can I be your aide? Don't aides have to be graduate students?" "No, they don't. Usually they are because graduate students are better qualified than undergraduates. That's why most of the aides are graduates, not because of any requirement. You're different, so you get the job. Here's a contract and a job description. Familiarize yourself with your responsibilities and bring the contract back signed tomorrow." Amy still had to absorb the shock. She was just a junior. How on earth could she be Burnside's assistant? However, she knew better than to try to question her professor. She simply asked for which classes she would be responsible. The response was simple; Amy would be assisting with the same two classes she took in the Spring semester. Her responsibilities would include keeping office hours for students' questions and grading tests and term papers. Burnside looked sharply at Amy. There was no question in the professor's mind that Amy would accept this assignment. Amy accepted, all right. It was an offer she couldn't refuse. Her classmates would have jumped at this opportunity. Hell, many of the graduate students would have jumped at this opportunity. Still, Amy felt overwhelmed. She was just a junior. She had not taken many of the requirements for the economics major yet. She was scared and wanted answers. First, she tried talking to her roommate. Suzanne listened carefully to Amy, but had never taken classes from a professor anything like Burnside. She had no point of reference from which to give Amy any observations. Suzanne was well-liked by the dean of the art department, but he was very laid back. The image she always had in her mind of her dean was his round glasses and pot-belly, leaning back in his chair and smoking a pipe through his scraggly-gray beard. Most of Suzanne's other professors fit that same stereotype. Suzanne had almost no experience in her studies to allow her to size up Amy's economics professor. Meeting Burnside the Monday after Spring Break had been a totally new experience for her. She could feel Burnside's fierce eyes bore into her the day she had to deliver Amy's term paper. She was not intimidated by Burnside, but at the same time was glad not to be her student. "Amy, I don't know what to tell you. That woman is just plain weird as far as I'm concerned." Amy next talked to Paul. He seemed to have an answer that made sense, having been Burnside's student himself. "I think she's testing you. There is something that she wants from you, or something that she expects you to do. It's bull there's no graduate student who could be her aide. She wants you to do it, even though you're not the most qualified person for the job." "Well, I'm going to ask her what's going on." "Don't. You won't get an answer. All I can tell you is that Burnside is more interested in you than she is in filling that student aide job. You'll find out why when she wants you to." Amy paused to think. She looked nervously at Paul. "Paul, can you help me? I can't do this alone." Paul took Amy's hand. "I'll do what I can. I think I can help you with the term papers." The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 18 Chapter 18 - A night in Burnside's office Amy's time was full that semester, as full as it could be. Although Amy was becoming somewhat better with the math requirements of her field, she was grateful to have Wendy present at all times to ask her for help on formulas for her economics classes. Wendy seemed to have a talent for numbers totally out of reach for Amy. Occasionally Amy thumbed through Wendy's accounting textbooks out of curiosity. She was intimidated by the content. I'm glad not to be studying this, Amy thought to herself. At the end of October, Amy had two full sets of term papers to grade in a week's time. There were over 150 papers, ranging from 15 to 20 pages. Burnside had told Amy the grading would be a valuable learning experience because she would be able to pick up a lot of diverse information over a very short period of time. Burnside's method of grading was based on a formula that she had worked out over her years of teaching. She had specific things that she was looking for, based on the course content. She taught that formula to Amy, had Amy grade a couple of papers to make sure that Amy understood how the papers were to be evaluated, and then handed her two boxes. Each box was full of papers. Amy would do the initial grading, then she would give the papers back to Burnside to review for the final grading. The professor planned to review the papers over the weekend before giving them back to the students on Monday. Paul had promised to help Amy and had cleared his schedule to accommodate her. He finished his term papers early to be able to help Amy when the crisis of mid-terms hit in the middle of October. Amy looked at him in gratitude when he showed up and picked up one of the boxes. Paul and Amy spread the papers out on the dining room table and got started. Amy took half the papers and Paul took the other half. On the papers he was grading, Paul wrote his comments on large post-it notes and attached them to the sides of the pages. Amy then re-wrote the comments on the pages in her own handwriting. It seemed like a pretty good system they had worked out. Paul and Amy were looking forward to Burnside's Halloween party. Amy decided to wear her nurse's outfit, and Paul volunteered to go as her patient. The only thing he would wear would be hospital slippers and an old-style hospital gown that did not have a back. The gown would leave Paul's back and bottom exposed. Amy liked the idea, but was surprised that Paul would wear something so daring. By pure chance Wendy's black jumpsuit ended up among the clothes she grabbed from her parents' house, so Wendy was taken care of as well. Amy decided to take the three outfits to the cleaner's and Paul volunteered to pick them up. ---------- Amy turned the term papers back to Burnside with plenty of time to spare on Friday. The professor was a bit surprised at receiving the papers back so early in the day, and at seeing Amy well rested. She quietly accepted the papers. Amy did not notice the glimmer of suspicion in Burnside's expression as she cheerfully unloaded the boxes on professor's desk. Amy first realized there was a problem that night, when she received an e-mail. Amy knew Burnside, and the tone of the message worried her. Amy, I expect you in my office at 8:00. We need to talk. -Burnside- Saturday morning Amy entered the professor's office at 8:00. Burnside was clearly infuriated. Her eyes bore right into Amy's, her face was flushed with anger, and the muscles on her neck were tensed. Without saying any type of greeting, she handed Amy a copy of the student aide contract. "Amy, read line 12 of the contract to me please." Amy read "Responsibilities include grading and assessment of course projects, as directed by the tenured faculty member named in this contract. Grading and assessment of work are the sole responsibility of the faculty member. However, within department guidelines, the responsibility of grading may be delegated to the student aide named in this contract at the discretion of the faculty member." Amy looked at Burnside perplexed. She still did not understand what was wrong. Burnside spoke again. "You don't get it, do you? Tell me Amy, are you double-majoring in political science?" "No." "Then I find the language used in half these papers very interesting. They are well-graded, but unless you have a split personality, the language used in half these papers is not yours. It's not even the language used by an economist. Now answer this question. You did not write the comments for half these papers, did you? Amy suddenly felt like the floor had opened up beneath her. She felt totally sick, like she was falling. She should have known. However, she forced herself to answer Burnside immediately. She was honest, knowing that attempting to lie would only make her situation considerably worse. "I had Paul help me with the papers. Those comments are his." "Well golly-gee Amy, I guess I should be real happy! Two student aides for the price of one! Except for one problem. What do the terms 'sole responsibility', 'delegate to the student aide named in this contract ', and 'at the discretion of the faculty member' mean to you?" Amy swallowed hard. "That means that I shouldn't have had anyone help me. It means that I...I...violated the conditions...of my contract." "You violated the terms of your contract. You got that right. Now, do you have anything to say for yourself?" Amy sadly shook her head. "No, Dr. Burnside. I don't have anything to say. I...I screwed up. I...I'm sorry." Burnside clenched her fists upon hearing the word "sorry". Her lips tightened. It was obvious that the professor was using every bit of her self control to stay calm. "You screwed up! What an understatement, Amy! Don't you realize that it's not just your career you've put in jeopardy, but mine as well? I signed a contract with this university, just like you did, and as I recall, NOWHERE in that contract did it say that I could delegate grading to someone outside the department! Certainly not to your little political science boyfriend!" Burnside grabbed a handful of the papers. She slapped them hard on the surface of her desk. The professor's next words cut to the core of Amy's soul. "I trusted you! I gave you an opportunity most students only dream about, and you couldn't even grade some papers for me! It would have been better had you not written anything on them, because now they're covered with a bunch of political science jargon! I trusted you, and what do you do? You violated both our contracts! You betrayed 75 of my students, who thought their papers would be graded by an economist! And all you can say is 'you're sorry?!'" For a moment Amy said nothing. What could she say? The fact that she had ended her career was the least of her concerns at that moment. Her betrayal of Burnside weighed on Amy much more than her own situation. Finally she forced herself to speak. "Dr. Burnside, would it help if I go to the dean, by myself, and tell him what I did? That it wasn't your fault? Then you, or the dean, or the university, or whoever, can do whatever you want to me. You have my word I won't argue or file any appeal. I'll write a letter, or a confession, or whatever. Just tell me what I need to do, and I'll take care of it." Burnside looked hard at Amy. Without realizing it, Amy had just saved her job with her last sentence. Maybe there was hope for her yet. The professor calmed down slightly. She sighed and shook her head. "No. I'm not going to fire you. It would create a scandal in the department, and anyhow, you aren't getting off that easy. We're going to fix this, you and me, this weekend. You are going to take Paul's papers over to that desk and re-grade them. Leave Paul's comments for the benefit of the students. For the most part they're very insightful for a political scientist. I just won't count them for the grading. But now you will put in your own. As for the half that you did grade, sort them and give them to me. I'll get started with those. We have 48 hours to get finished." "Dr. Burnside...You're going to forgive me..." "No, Amy. I'm not going to just forgive you. You fucked up, and you're going to pay for it. But you're going to pay for it in a way that won't wreck your future. Now, start sorting those papers." Amy moved the papers to the TA's desk and sat down. Her heart pounded as she sorted the papers into two piles, the finished pile for Burnside and the unfinished pile for herself. Amy's emotions were in turmoil. She was hugely relieved that her career was not going to be swept away. However, she was scared at the same time. Burnside was totally infuriated with Amy, in spite of having decided not to fire her. Amy knew there would be hell to pay for her irresponsibility. "Amy, what time is it?" "Ten 'till nine, Dr. Burnside" "Good. At nine o'clock sharp I want you to go over to the umbrella stand behind my desk. There is a cane in that umbrella stand. You will take the cane out and hand it to me. Once you've done that, I want you to pull your jeans and panties down and bend over my desk." Amy was so scared her hands shook, but she said nothing. Punishment was how Burnside dealt with anyone who was dishonest with her, and Amy would be no exception. If anything, Amy was slightly relieved, knowing that if Burnside punished her, eventually she would let the grading incident pass. What Amy did not realize was how much the strokes from that cane would hurt. She hurried to finish sorting out the papers before nine. At nine Amy laid the papers she had graded on Burnside's desk. She reached behind the umbrella stand and retrieved the cane. Amy's struggled to stay calm as her fingers touched the wood. The cane was truly an evil-looking item. She handed the cane to her professor, then moved to the front of her desk, facing the window. She unzipped her jeans, pushed them and her panties to her knees, and bent over the desk. She grabbed the opposite edge with her hands and waited. Burnside picked up the cane and tapped it on Amy's left bottom-cheek. "Amy, I promised that you are going to pay for this in a way that won't affect your future. Well, this is it. I will give you two strokes, one from each side, every hour on the hour until we're done with these papers. I think, considering what you tried to pull on me, that's fairly lenient. Anyhow, I'm sure you'll be plenty tired by tomorrow and the strokes will help you stay awake." With that Burnside struck hard at the lower part of Amy's bottom. A pink line instantly appeared, just above her thighs, precisely where she would have to sit. The pain seemed to shoot through Amy's entire body. As the burning from the stroke increased and Amy gritted her teeth in pain, Burnside struck from the other side. Amy gasped. She bit her lip hard as the pain from her second stroke mounted. She fought back the tears. That was just two strokes! There would be two more at 10:00, two more at 11:00, two more at 12:00... By this time tomorrow Amy would be in pure agony. She knew that the second day would be worse. "OK, Amy, back to your papers. You might as well take your jeans and panties off. You won't be needing them until you're done with your part of the grading. At 10:00 I want you back over my desk." Amy sadly slipped her jeans over her feet, folded them, and put them on the floor under the table. Then she sat down in the hard chair, wincing as the welts seemed to bite into her. Burnside was no hypocrite. She worked every bit as hard as Amy, quickly revising Amy's comments, adding a few of her own, and giving the final grade. On the average she lowered the grade about 3% from what Amy had given each paper. Burnside worked quickly and efficiently, reducing her stack of papers by about 8 per hour. Amy took longer with her stack of papers, since she had to re-read them and put in her own comments next to the ones she had copied from Paul's post-it notes. As she finished her papers she put them back in their box. After about every 10 papers or so Amy picked up the finished stack and handed it to Burnside. Burnside took the papers from Amy's hand, thumbed through them to make sure they had good comments, then added them to her own pile of un-graded papers. Amy and Burnside worked in silence the entire afternoon. Amy sat uncomfortably, the hard wood of her chair pressing her welts. The silent routine of the office was only broken once each hour when Amy checked the time, stood up, and bent over Burnside's desk. Burnside then stood up, laid her two strokes across Amy's bottom, and then they both sat back down to continue their work. Every hour two new stripes of pain marked Amy's bottom, two new sources of discomfort for her as she pressed into her seat. By the time it was dark outside Amy barely could sit down. It was becoming harder and harder for her not to cry. At 7:00 p.m. Burnside suddenly realized that she and Amy had gone the entire day without eating. After giving Amy her two cane strokes for the hour, Burnside told Amy that she was going out to get something to eat for both of them and would be back shortly. Amy took advantage of Burnside's absence to have a good cry. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed for 15 minutes. It did not make the pain go away, but now Amy felt that she could hold up for a few more hours. She managed to calm down before Burnside came back. The professor set a plastic container of chopped fruit in front of Amy, as well as a small hot sandwich and a small carton of orange juice. Then they both noticed it was 8:00. Amy, not saying anything, got up and bent over the desk. Burnside picked up the cane and struck her twice. Amy now had 24 cane strokes across her bottom. She winced as she sat down and forced herself to eat. The night dragged on. Burnside was an insomniac, so it did not bother her to work like this. There was no way that Amy could feel sleepy with the increasing pain from her on-going punishment. They worked grimly through the night. Every hour Amy stood up and bent over Burnside's desk. Amy heard the janitor vacuum outside the door. Much later she heard drunken frat boys screaming around the academic buildings. Burnside jumped up and went outside. Amy heard her voice snarling at the drunks. Amy had to hand it to her professor. She had the guts to go out and confront a large group of drunken males by herself at 2:00 in the morning. There was silence after that. By 7:00 the next morning Amy was about three fourths the way through her papers. She bent over Burnside's desk for the 23rd time. Burnside struck her with the cane twice, then told Amy she was going to get breakfast for both of them. She asked Amy what she wanted in her coffee. Once again Amy broke down and cried while Burnside was away. She was in much more pain than last night. Judging by the papers still on her desk there were at least six more hours to go. She managed to stop crying just before Burnside got back. Amy did not see how things could get any worse, but they did with the next set of cane strokes. At 8:00, Burnside decided that she needed to stop caning Amy's bottom. Amy's bottom cheeks were in bad shape and a few more strokes of the cane would risk breaking her skin. When Amy bent over Burnside's desk for the 24th time, Burnside laid two strokes across the backs of Amy's thighs. Amy had been balancing herself with her thighs on the edge of the chair to ease the pressure on her bottom. The two new welts would make that much more difficult. After her strokes at 11:00, Amy now had four welts on the back of each thigh, as well as the mass of welts on her bottom. By now Amy saw the wooden chair as her enemy. She asked Burnside if she could stay standing or kneel at her desk to ease the pressure on her bottom. "Amy, you will sit in that chair until you are finished with your papers. If your bottom hurts, well, that's just too bad." Amy, exhausted beyond belief and tormented by her welts, finally finished the last paper that Sunday afternoon at 12:55 p.m. Burnside took it from her. The professor looked at Amy sharply as she picked up her jeans from the floor and struggled to pull them up over her bottom. "OK, Amy, that's it. Your part is done. Don't ever tell yourself that you need your boyfriend to help you or that you cannot handle this workload, because you've just proved you can. We have final projects coming up in a month and I expect top performance out of you for the grading." Burnside's face reflected genuine anger at Amy, as well as disappointment. She continued "Amy, because you let me down, you will host at my Halloween party, just like you did last year. Do you understand?" Amy struggled not to cry. "Yes, Dr. Burnside. I understand." With that Amy slowly walked down the empty hallway of the silent economics department. For a few seconds Burnside stood sadly watching her, then the professor returned to her office to finish her portion of the grading. ---------- Amy called Paul immediately from the pay phone at the entrance of the economics department. He rushed over to pick her up. It was obvious that Amy could not face Suzanne or Wendy right now, so he took her to a motel. He helped her get her jeans and underwear off, and was horrified at the sight of Amy's bottom and the backs of her legs. Amy lay on the bed, face down, crying. The pain from the cane marks did not seem to go away, and having gone without sleep for almost two days totally broke down her resistance. Amy sobbed continuously. Paul did not know what to do. He ran out in the hall to get Amy some juice, soda, and bottled water from the vending machine, and asked her what she wanted. All Amy could do was continue to cry. It was obvious that something had gone horribly wrong between Amy and her professor, but long time passed before Amy could tell Paul what happened. The worst part was the upcoming Halloween Party. Amy would be punished yet again and forced to serve drinks in the nude all night, to a large number of people who knew her from the Mardi Gras party. The embarrassment of having to face all those people again as a hostess was overwhelming. There was no way that Amy could avoid letting Paul know that she had been punished because he graded her papers. It really was not his fault that Amy violated her contract, but he felt overwhelmingly guilty. Paul's concern was not over what already had happened, but rather Amy's upcoming public humiliation. Amy's fatigue took over and she went to sleep. Paul felt horrible as he looked at the cruel marks on her body. Finally he covered her up. He grabbed one of the unopened bottles of water and drank it as he pondered what to do. He resolved that tomorrow he would talk to Burnside and try to host in Amy's place. He owed her at least that much. ---------- Burnside stared coldly at Paul as he pled for Amy to be let off from any further punishment. Finally she reached in her file cabinet and pulled out a copy of Amy's contract. She shoved it at Paul. "Look this over very carefully. Do you see your name written anywhere on it?" "No, but..." "Case closed, Paul. Amy is responsible because she is the one I hired to grade papers, not you. What you do is your business. You obviously thought you were doing the right thing by trying to help Amy, but it was her decision not to fulfill the terms in here, not yours." "But I was the one who suggested helping her with the term papers." "Doesn't matter. She made the decision to not do the papers. You didn't make that decision for her. She's the one who has to face the consequences." Burnside looked at her watch. "I think our time is up, Paul. I have a meeting in two minutes." "Dr. Burnside, could I at least host with her? So she doesn't have to be there by herself?" The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 18 Burnside was irritated with this troublesome boyfriend. Paul, your ass is going to get it, thought Burnside. "Have it your way. It won't cut anything that's going to happen to Amy, but if you want to play hero, go right ahead." ---------- This time Amy made no effort to hide anything from Suzanne. Monday night she lay on Suzanne's massage table while Suzanne put lotion on her welts, hoping to soften the skin and reduce the bruising. Suzanne partially felt sorry for Amy, but ultimately agreed with Burnside. It had been Amy's job to grade the papers, not Paul's. Wendy came in, and for once showed sympathy towards Amy instead of concentrating on her own self-pity. She took over from Suzanne and rubbed Amy's shoulders until Amy fell asleep. Like Paul, Wendy suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to be with Amy and suffer with her as a hostess at the Halloween party. She felt a huge need to repeat her experience from last year, especially if Amy had to endure it as well. Tuesday morning Wendy was in Burnside's office, asking to host along side Amy. Burnside looked at her, stupefied. "I don't understand you three. First Paul, now you. It seems that Amy gets in trouble and everyone wants in on it. Fine. Your ass will get a nice whipping just like you had last year. Now, out. I'll see you on the 31st." ---------- Amy gave up on trying to convince Paul and Wendy to not go to the party with her after two days of arguing with them. They would stick by her and that was that. Deep down Amy was gratified that her boyfriend and her classmate were so loyal to her, but she felt extremely guilty about dragging them into her problems. The afternoon before Halloween, Amy, Wendy, and Paul got dressed in sweats at Amy's apartment. They drove over to Burnside's house in Paul's car, got out, and prepared to face an unpleasant evening. Amy was still horribly sore from her caning only three days before, while Paul and Wendy nervously awaited being punished themselves. Burnside opened the door and saw the three sad students looking at her. Suddenly her determination to "really teach them a lesson" began to fade. Like the previous year, Burnside had the students move the furniture out of the living room. It was easier this time, with Paul on one end of the bigger pieces and Wendy and Amy on the other end. The sheets went up faster with three people hooking them to the walls instead of two. Once everything was in place, the three students looked at each other in apprehension. Paul and Wendy were scared, even though they had volunteered to come. Unlike the previous year, Burnside was still wearing slacks and a sweater when she greeted the students. Burnside went to her bedroom to change into one of her leather outfits, while Amy ordered Paul and Wendy to go into the kitchen. Amy told them how she wanted the drink mixing to be organized, now that Paul was there to help Wendy. Amy was determined that she would serve the guests. Then Amy decided that there was no point in the other two being punished. This was Amy's problem, not theirs. They had no business suffering because of her. Burnside came back to the living room just in time to hear Amy's voice in the kitchen, insisting that Paul and Wendy were not to submit to a punishment that Amy alone had earned. Burnside heard her comment..."Look, I am going to go into the living room and deal with what I did. You two are staying in the kitchen until my punishment is over and that is final! Paul, I will break up with you if you don't respect my feelings about this! This is my screw-up and it's my problem!" With that Amy entered the living room to face Burnside. Her sad eyes met Burnside's. Suddenly Burnside realized that she did not want to punish Amy. Even before looking Amy in the face Burnside had her doubts anyway, given all that had happened in her office a few days before. But now, seeing Amy alone in her living room, willing to face her mistakes and desperate to protect her boyfriend and her classmate, Burnside lost all desire to do anything to Amy. Her next words shocked her student. "Did you and the others bring any costumes, by any chance?" Amy stood silently staring at Burnside. She had expected to be told to get undressed. Burnside became irritated at her silence. "Amy, costumes. The things you wear for Halloween?" "I...I don't know, Dr. Burnside. I think Paul has them in his trunk..." "Well, get them and put them on. You'll be serving in your costumes." With that Amy ran out to Paul's car. Sure enough, the costumes, now cleaned and in garment bags, were in Paul's trunk. Amy grabbed the costumes and ran back into the kitchen. She passed Wendy her black outfit and Paul his hospital gown. "Quick, get these on." Immediately she took off her sweats and panties and pulled the nurse's dress over her head. She pulled the white stockings up her thighs and put on her white shoes and nurse's cap. Paul followed suit, stripping and putting on his gown. Wendy seemed totally perplexed and almost had a disappointed look in her face. "Wendy, get changed. We're off the hook. She's going to let us serve in our costumes." With that Wendy took off her clothes and changed into her jumpsuit. She did not have her high-heeled shoes, which took away from her outfit a bit, but given that she would be spending the night in the kitchen fixing drinks, that didn't matter too much. Amy was missing her medical accessories, but with a drink tray in her hands all night she would not need them anyway. Amy was grateful that her punished bottom would not be on display for the world to study. A few cane marks were visible on the backs of her thighs between the tops of her stockings and the hem of her dress, but that was better than having her entire body on display. Once again Amy went pantyless, not so much to feel sexy, but to avoid having any pressure on her bottom. When Burnside entered the living room in her leather outfit, she looked at her student and in a quiet voice, so the others couldn't hear, said, "Amy, you've been through enough. Just do a good job serving tonight. We'll start fresh on Monday." ---------- The doorbell rang and the three students began taking coats to the back bedroom. This Halloween was not as cold as last year, so most of the guests did not have heavy coats. Many of the guests seemed surprised at not seeing their hosts in the nude, since nude hosts had been a trademark of Burnside's parties since she started having them nearly 15 years ago. Her explanation to those who asked was simple enough and partially true, that this time her hosts had volunteered and thus were doing Burnside a favor. Hence they were serving in costume instead of nude. Amy smiled with amusement as Paul walked to the back room with his arms full of coats, his bare bottom jiggling through the back opening in his hospital gown. Paul, I think you're going to regret putting your bottom on display like that, Amy thought to herself. Quickly Amy's concerns moved to the endless drink orders pouring into the kitchen. Amy decided to switch off with Paul taking drink orders. One would serve drinks and the other would help Wendy. While working in the kitchen Amy took a look at the crowd to see how Paul was doing among the guests. Paul quickly moved about the room with his drinks, with a nervous expression on his face. Amy noticed that wherever he went, women hooted and cheered as they swatted at his bare bottom. Since he had his hands full of drinks, there was little he could do to avoid the swats, and his tormenters knew it. When Paul finally came back into the kitchen Amy and Wendy took a look at his bottom. It was quite pink. Embarrassed, he smiled at them. "I think next time I'll wear something else." However, he volunteered to go back out with another tray of drinks. Suddenly Amy felt like doing something a bit naughty to her boyfriend. As Paul stood ready to go out the door with his tray of drinks, Amy ordered him to stand still for a second. The lower pair of drawstrings on Paul's gown were hanging loose. Amy suspected that he had left them loose on purpose to better expose his bottom. Well, thought Amy, let's expose your ass a bit more. She tied the lower set of drawstrings in front to pull Paul's gown completely away from his bottom. Now he was exposed not just from the back, but also from the sides. She kissed him on the cheek and then landed a sharp slap on his bottom to send him out the door. "Have fun!" Amy's gratitude from serving in her nurse's dress increased as she ran across the people she had met at the Mardi Gras party in the Spring. It was too dark in the room for the others to notice the welts on the backs of her legs, so Amy's story about volunteering to serve at the party was believed by everyone. She got through the evening with her dignity intact. She ran across the graduate student with whom she had tormented that frat boy in the Spring and the cop from the campus police department. They were together now and apparently going out. They filled Amy in on what had happened to Bill. Bill was arrested about a week after the Mardi Gras party. He immediately became an informant for the police against the rest of his fraternity in what turned into a massive drug trafficking investigation involving Rohypnol, steroids, and ecstasy. The investigation branched out and eventually resulted in several arrests over the summer, including a couple of football players. The investigation was still going on, which was why Bill was not in jail yet. In fact, Bill was still enrolled in college due to the need to keep him as an informant. The police approached Burnside and asked her to simply flunk him instead of kick him out altogether for cheating. Upon finding out about the investigation, she agreed and Bill continued with his other classes. In spite of all this, the graduate student, in her loud cheerful manner of talking, explained to Amy that she imagined that Bill probably wished he had gone to jail. Her roommate, Bill's ex-girlfriend, scanned all the photos taken by Amy and the others at the Mardi Gras party. Then she collected as much of his personal information as she could. She developed websites as a hobby, and put the scanned photos and Bill's personal information in a website and bought a domain name. She put a copy of the website on CD and presented it to Bill to look at. As anyone could imagine, Bill was horrified. He begged her not to post the website. Well, that depends on what I get in return, responded Bill's ex-girlfriend. Bill's new nick-name became "Bitch-boy". Starting mid-May the purpose of Bill's life was to serve his ex-girlfriend and her friends non-stop. He had been subjected to just about every indignity imaginable and every week his ex-girlfriend and the others came up with new things and ideas to torment him with. Any hint of objection, and Bill's ex-girlfriend picked up the CD and waved it in the air. Seeing the CD always put him back in line. Amy and her acquaintance from the Mardi Gras party chatted about a few other things, mostly gossip. Paul showed up with his drink tray. The graduate student slapped his bottom as he went by. Slapping Paul's bottom seemed to have become the sport of most of the women that night at the party. In fact some of the women had taken bets to see who could swat Paul's bottom the most throughout the evening. Amy smiled as she watched Paul navigate through the crowd, with the sounds of whistles and slaps accompanying him. Amy turned to the graduate student. "By the way, that's my boyfriend in the hospital gown." Once again Amy felt like being a bit naughty with her hapless boyfriend. She grabbed a small leather paddle from Burnside's supply of implements and handed it to the graduate student. "Next time he comes by, give him a swat with this." ---------- The party wound down and the guests started to leave. Finally the last of them was out the door. Amy, Paul, and Wendy put the furniture back and started to clean up. However, Burnside decided to give Amy her second break of the evening, or the morning, as it now was. She told Amy and the others that they could take-off; Burnside would handle the rest of the clean-up herself. With that the students changed back into their sweats and said goodnight to the professor. ---------- They got back to Amy's apartment. Wendy took a shower and went to bed. Amy grabbed Paul's hand and led him to her room. She took his hands and kissed him. Paul them buried his face in Amy's neck and kissed her hard. It had been several days since Amy and Paul had enjoyed the chance to make love. They were both quite aroused, enough to forget about the presence of Wendy and Suzanne in the other rooms. Amy jerked Paul's sweatpants down to his ankles, and motioned him to turn around and put his hands on her dresser. His bottom was still badly marked up from all the attention it had received from Burnside's guests just a few hours before. She ran her hands over the marks and bruises, enjoying the feel of his flesh against her fingertips and palm. She resisted the urge to lay some additional hard slaps on his bottom, not wanting to wake up her two roommates. Paul stood up and unzipped Amy's sweat top. He slid it off her shoulders and pushed her sweatpants to her feet. She stepped out of them. Holding hands, they turned their backs facing the mirror to compare their bottoms. The blotchy red and purple marks on Paul's bottom contrasted with the mass of thin welts on Amy's bottom. It was a strange sight, but standing together as a punished couple intensely aroused both of them. Amy looked down to see that Paul already had a rather impressive erection. She grabbed his penis, then caressed his swollen bottom with her hands. Paul ran his hands over Amy's welts, pressing hard. The pain from Paul's hands squeezing her sore bottom pushed Amy's emotions to their limit. She squeaked and kissed his neck hard. Paul pushed Amy down on the bed. The pain from her welts intensified as he entered her, pressing her punished flesh hard on the mattress. The sensation intensified the orgasm she was experiencing. Amy squeezed Paul's bottom as hard as she could, digging her fingertips into his flesh. It was delightful for him, the intense pleasure of being inside Amy, combined with the bittersweet sensations coming from his behind. It was an exquisite end to a very strange evening. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 19 Chapter 19 - Burnside's Ghosts Leaving Burnside's house, Amy, Paul, and Wendy were too tired to notice that the front door stayed open a couple of inches until they drove off. The professor quietly watched the three students as they made their way down her sidewalk; Paul and Amy holding hands and Wendy close to Amy. She watched Paul open up the back passenger door for Wendy and the front one for Amy. She watched Paul get into the driver's seat and close his door. He turned on the ignition and they were gone. The silent woman in the doorway thought about Amy for a few minutes, and about the huge break she had given her that night. Was that student really so special? Did she really deserve all the attention and chances her professor had given her? She saw something in Amy, something that set her apart, but what? Burnside's thoughts turned to Paul. He truly loved Amy. The professor reflected that she never had a boyfriend like him. Her love of fetish and her violent temper had made any normal relationship out of reach for Ruth Burnside. Sure, she had enjoyed plenty of sexual relationships. She loved sex and always had at least one lover at all times in her life; usually more than one. But she never had experienced having a boyfriend walk her to his car, holding her hand, and opening the door for her. She had big plans for Amy, which fortunately had not been derailed by her student's failure to comply with the student aide contract. Still, the professor felt a pang of regret that her plans probably would force Amy to break up with Paul. Burnside closed her front door and contemplated the mess in the living room and kitchen she had to deal with. She walked over to her coffee maker and helped herself to what was left of the coffee. The coffee tasted bitter after having sat out all night. Appropriate. Matches my mood. Burnside took a shower and stood looking at herself in her hallway mirror. My fucking tits, she thought; God they look nasty. Just a few years ago she had been proud of her large breasts. They still looked all right in a bra or corset. But recently they had fallen. Loose, they sagged like two partially deflated water balloons, according to the woman's critical view of herself. Her skeptical eye scanned the rest of her body. It still looked OK. But for how much longer? Menopause was staring her in the face. Two, maybe three years more at the most. Then she would look like shit. Just another single old woman. With that on her mind she crawled in bed. She could not sleep. She was up after a few minutes, dressed in a sweatsuit. She did what she always did when she was depressed; turn on CNBC. As an economist, the lies and cheerleading coming out of CNBC and the other stock channels held a morbid fascination for her. What a bunch of bullshit, she thought. These people belong in jail, promoting stocks that could not hold their value, predicting big things for sectors of the economy that were already over-inflated. She stared quietly at the screen, remembering her own bitter experience with "high finance", and what happens when foresight gets in the way of profits. Dr. Ruth Burnside saw the telecommunications crash coming, long before the sector peaked. The law of supply and demand. Wasn't anyone paying attention? Too much capacity was being built, too many losses being hidden in acquisitions. Yes, she saw it all coming, and tried to warn the public. The only reward she got for trying to tell the truth was to be blacklisted from the stock channels. They wanted cheerleaders, not the truth. Yes, she had been right, but in the end it didn't matter. Her warnings went unheard, and all those investors (the small ones, that is) lost out. The embittered economist sipped her cold, bitter coffee as she sat listlessly before the TV, listening to the latest flood of lies spewing out. Men, especially, seemed to be real suckers for this crap. The female announcer had just the right mix of beauty and professional appearance to play to male egos. The professor felt that she could put herself in the heads of the men watching this actress pretending to be an analyst. Yeah. They were going to be the next Rockefeller by watching CNBC. The new economy. The new era. New technology. What total shit. The fundamentals never change; they haven't in over 500 years. Go back to the law of supply and demand. Look at history, that's where you will find the truth about the "new economy". But no one was listening. After torturing herself with CNBC and cold coffee for an hour, Burnside noticed it was light outside. Time to walk the dog. Old Maynard was on the back porch. The dog, named after the famous economist John Maynard Keynes, was 17, and looked it. His muzzle was white, his eyes covered with cataracts. The dog wagged his tail feebly and struggled to his feet. Maynard, you're not looking too good today, thought Burnside. The animal seemed to perk up when he saw the leash. The dog's owner was relieved. She had promised herself the day Maynard did not care about his walk would be the day he would have to be put to sleep. ---------- The professor reflected about her past as she slowly walked behind her decrepit dog. For the first time in a while her thoughts went back to her childhood. She thought about her religious, optimistic parents. They were so naive. They were suckered time and time again, with their house, with their cars, with their insurance, with their investments. No matter how many times her father was ripped off, he always seemed to maintain his faith in the goodness of humanity and the generosity of God. The family lived in poverty, not because there was no money, but because her father was such an idiot about spending it. There always seemed to be bums hanging around, asking her parents for handouts. Invariably they received what they wanted. Ruth and her sister may not have had enough to eat, but the bums always got theirs. Ruth Burnside grew up hating many things. She hated weak people, and she hated optimists. She hated people who looked on the bright side of things, because the bright side of life was something she never experienced. From a very early age Ruth hated her parents, a hatred that eventually expanded to everything associated with their lifestyle and beliefs. She hated their fake cheerfulness, she hated their optimism, she hated their religion. She hated her used clothes and meals of Hamburger Helper. She hated seeing the money that should have been used to make her and her sister comfortable instead go to all those fucking bums. She hated being told that God smiled upon those who made sacrifices for the less fortunate. Ruth developed a foul temper and a controlling disposition, even at an early age. Ruth's feelings towards her parents were more hostile contempt than actual hatred, but towards their pastor she felt nothing but pure loathing. She blamed her church for making her parents into hapless puppets who were detached from any sense of reality. The sight of that deranged man screaming at his pulpit week after week, with his eyes wide with fanatical belief and sweat pouring down his face, did much more to make Ruth into an atheist than anything she could have learned in her science classes. ---------- As she strolled behind Maynard, waiting for him to dump, the professor's thoughts turned to sex and S&M. Her interest in sex first began as an act of rebellion against her parents. Of course, in her household anything having to do with sexual expression was savagely condemned. The message was pounded into her and her sister constantly, not just by her parents, but also by her shrieking pastor and various Bible-study leaders. At a very early age Ruth engaged in sexual play with other young teenagers, precisely because she knew that she was violating the most strongly-felt values of her parents and defying the most treasured beliefs of her pastor and bible-study leader. The girl's plunge into sexual adventure was not something she drifted into; it was a decision she took on her own. Sex became Ruth's early obsession in life. She became as fanatical about sexuality as her parents were about their religion. Ruth pursued her secret life with combination of research at the library and sexual play with her friends. She took advantage of every opportunity to find out what she could and already had picked up a surprising amount of information by the time she was only 13. Even before she finished middle school Ruth knew more about sex than most adults. Ruth's friends were a group of neighborhood boys, some of who were slightly older than she was. They began experimenting when the older boys reached puberty. Ruth, at age eleven, started to use the boys' interest in sex and the fact that she was the only girl in the group to control them. Ruth's increasing control over the boys was a gradual process. She learned to play on their weaknesses. The boys learned that everything with Ruth had its price. She loved forcing the boys to strip completely, sometimes in exchange for something as small as a kiss. Anything more than that had a much heavier price. By the time she was 13, Ruth became interested in punishing her group-mates. She used her own body to bargain punishments with her friends. From the group there was one boy in particular with whom she spent her time. He let her punish him as much as she wanted. His parents were never home until after six, so Ruth and her friend spent hours at his house after school. He was the only boy in the group for whom she took off all of her clothes. She let him feel and kiss her body. She started to experiment with massaging him. Ruth's price for letting him see and touch her was that he had to lie naked on the sofa while she slapped his bottom and legs. She told him that he could not get up until she allowed him to. If he did, she would never let him see her again. She had him under her control. Ruth's love of this fetish quickly increased. She loved the sense of control that she had over her friend. Hitting him seemed to give her power that she did not have in any other area of her life. She loved the sight of his naked adolescent body, covered with pink marks and squirming on the sofa. After a couple of months Ruth found an excuse to punish him with his father's belt. The sight of the reddish belt marks on her friend's bottom excited her even more. Ruth's friend desperately wanted to have sex with her. Slowly she used his desire as a bargaining chip for more severe punishments. She experimented spanking him with other household items such as breadboards and bath brushes. She began to experiment with different positions, such as having him bend over a chair. She delighted in forcing him to do risky things such as streak outside around the house. A couple of times she locked him outside nude, and forced him to stand at the back door negotiating what he had to do to be let back in. Very slowly she let him do more and more with her, but the exchange was always in her favor. Finally, after two years, Ruth let him get inside of her. After the first time she loved it. She learned at a very early age the joys of combining pleasure and pain. The first time was on a hot summer day. Ruth and her friend decided to go out into the nearby forest park. She could tell he was desperate to have her. They walked a long way and came upon a growth of willows. Ruth suddenly remembered that willows were what you make switches out of. While her friend watched nervously, she cut some and cleaned off the bark. They found a clearing with a fallen tree lying on the ground. Suddenly she turned to him and took his hand. "Do you still want me?" He nodded. "You gotta to prove it. Get your clothes off." Ruth took hers off as well. The boy bent over the dead tree and she began switching him. The stripes on his bottom were darker than anything she had seen before. She was totally aroused. The feel of the hot sun against her own body exhilarated her even more. She grabbed his shirt and threw it on the ground. She kissed him and massaged him until he was totally hard. She lost her virginity on his shirt. The blood fascinated her, even though it was her own. She did not enjoy the pain of the first time, but she knew it got better once the first time was out of the way. She made him wear the bloody shirt on the way back. From that point she had several sexual relationships in school. However, she did not want a normal relationship with tenderness and commitment. What she wanted was the feeling of control that always accompanied punishing her boyfriends. At that time Ruth's sister worked in a pharmacy and was able to supply her with condoms, so in high school Ruth stayed out of trouble. Taking a whipping and wearing a condom, those were to two conditions for anyone who wanted to have sex with Ruth Burnside. She was surprised how many of her classmates were desperate enough for sex to be willing to meet her two conditions. Ruth spent much of her youth avidly studying S&M literature. When she was 16 one of her old group-mates got a job at a bookstore and was able to get her some books on S&M, both fiction and pictures. The pictures with leather interested her. She loved the black clothing and its contrast with white skin. She still could not get into the adult bookstores to see this stuff for real. She had to wait another two years. But her imagination was fired. The feeling of control, of power, that she experienced by inflicting pain on guys desperate for sex filled her fantasy life. Ruth took full advantage of her teenage classmates' desperation for sex. She made herself available to a lot of the guys who, for whatever reason, could not have anyone else. But there was always a cost. Sex was on Ruth's terms; a few minutes of pleasure in exchange for a punishment. By this time she had collected some breadboards, bath brushes, and belts and knew how to use them to maximum effect. She knew how to dominate her lovers. More than anything else in her life she loved the sight of a 16- or 17-year old classmate on his knees, nervously looking up at her, waiting. ---------- As a young teenager Ruth Burnside became as obsessed with money as she was with sex. She knew that understanding money was just as important as having it, just as understanding sex was just as important as experiencing it. Ruth's early experience with money began as soon as she entered high school, a clandestine career that gave her much more control over her daily life than her parents could have envisioned or would have granted. An unexpected result of Ruth's fixation with learning about the forbidden topic was that, by age 14, her research skills matched those of many college students. When she entered high school Ruth already knew how to search through card catalogues, conduct investigations, and rapidly go through shelves of books for selected information. She became an expert at locating everything from obscure medical passages about sexual intercourse to sex scenes in novels. She had to learn how to search for the information by herself, because she was not about to let the library staff know what she was looking for. High school research projects that daunted her classmates were nothing to Ruth. Upon entering the ninth grade, she began earning illicit income by writing term papers for various classmates. She did excellent original work that was not traceable as cheating and forced her customers to take the time to learn what was in the papers they were turning in to avoid being caught. As Ruth's reputation spread her prices went up. She had no qualms about taking advantage of a classmate's desperate situation to extort more money, or forcing two classmates to bid against each other to get a paper. Her knowledge of plagiarism and her total contempt for people unwilling to do their own work began at a very early age. The most important lesson Ruth learned from her high school career of writing black-market term papers was the power having money could give her. As she increased her small hoard of cash, she learned that to have money was to have choices and freedom. No longer did she have to ask her parents for anything (not that she would have gotten it anyway), because whatever she wanted she could purchase with her own cash. Apart from items she could pass off as school supplies, she couldn't buy anything expensive-looking that her parents would see at home. However, in her school locker she kept several pairs of new shoes, some books, cosmetics, a large collection of cassette tapes and a Walkman, and other small luxuries that would have outraged her parents and pastor. Whenever she wanted to get something expensive to eat, she bought it. By the time she finished high school the only thing she needed or wanted from her parents was a place to sleep. Ruth Burnside graduated from high school with a vast knowledge of academic topics. However, her intelligence was not reflected in her grades, because she had spent so much of her time doing other people's work instead of her own. Her grades were slightly above average, but not outstanding and definitely not good enough to earn her any scholarships or grants. Of course, from her parents there would be no money for college. The church, the bums, and the con-artists had taken it. Like her sister before her, Ruth enlisted in the Navy and later would go to college on the GI bill. ---------- Just before she enlisted, Ruth celebrated her 18th birthday by touring several sex shops. She did not have enough money to buy the expensive items, but she would be in the Navy in a few weeks and then would have some income. Her ability to extract a heavy cost for sex took off when she put on her sailor's uniform. There was no shortage of desperate guys willing to do anything for a few minutes of sex in the Navy. Seaman Burnside now had money, so she could buy the leather sex toys she craved. The Navy gave her a steady supply of lovers to use them on, including a couple of officers. Burnside reflected that it must have been in the Navy when everyone started calling her and thinking of her as Burnside instead of Ruth. Briefly, as an undergraduate, people did call her Ruth again, but she still thought of herself as Burnside, and signed all of her papers and correspondence with just her last name. By the time she entered graduate school, not many people even knew her first name. Burnside liked the military. She liked the discipline and attitude about weakness. She liked having plenty of spending money. She liked her growing savings account. She would have stayed in had she not become pregnant. The pregnancy hit her a few months before her first contract was about to finish. She wanted an abortion, but her ship was at sea and she did not have access to a clinic until it was too late. Rather than sign up again, she returned to civilian life to wait out the pregnancy. She applied to several universities and lived off her savings until the baby was born. She gave up the child for adoption. She had to, not because of her financial situation, but because she knew that her violent temper would make her an abusive parent. She cared for her daughter enough to know that she could not raise her. She was brutally honest about herself with the adoption agency. When her adoption counselor suggested that she seek help for controlling her anger, Burnside snapped "My temper is part of who I am. I can't fix it. That's why I'm here." Burnside avoided sex for almost two and a half years after she had her daughter. She was disgusted with having allowed herself to become pregnant. She knew better. She punished herself by staying celibate until she finished her undergraduate degree. Burnside's self-imposed punishment ended as soon as she had her undergraduate diploma. Her fantasies returned with a vengeance when she joined a Chicago sex group. She began to have longer-term relationships with other graduate students and professors who also were into fetish. One of her old professors, her first mentor Jim Halsey, was still her most trusted lover to this day, after nearly 20 years. Burnside started hosting small S&M parties at her apartment. Those gatherings later evolved into the elaborate parties that she currently hosted three times a year at her house. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 19 Burnside started college two weeks after the baby was born and disappeared from her life. She took double loads of classes, getting her undergraduate degree in just two and a half years. She had her Masters Degree in a year and a half, and her Ph.D. two years later. She was obsessive about studying and good at her classes and projects. She became a student aide and quickly bullied any of the students she felt were not working to their potential. By age 27 Dr. Burnside was teaching. By age 31 she was tenured. ---------- The final turn in Burnside's sex life took place when she became a teaching assistant. Having taken double-loads of classes as an undergraduate and still maintaining a GPA of 3.8, she had little sympathy for undergraduates who, taking half the classes per semester that she had taken, still could not handle the material. Nearly every undergraduate who came into her office complaining about her harsh grading was there because of personal irresponsibility. Burnside learned how to question the undergraduates to get out of them the fact that they had gone to a party the night before they took a test, or how they obtained a plagiarized term paper. She loved reducing irresponsible undergraduates to tears by probing them with their own words. It was only a matter of time before Burnside's dominating of irresponsible students went a step further. Burnside was in her final semester getting her MA degree when she punished her first student. She remembered the incident with loving detail. It started when she graded a term-paper. She already had seen this paper four times before. It seemed to be circulating between two sororities. The first time she saw the paper the TA had graded it and returned it. The second time she saw the paper, she realized that she had been tricked. She was furious, but there was nothing she could do against the first user of the paper. The second, third, and fourth times she saw the paper resulted in expulsions of the users from the university. Now was the fifth time. It seems these stupid sorority bitches don't learn. Burnside laid out copies of the second, third, and fourth versions of the paper on her desk and waited for the fifth user to show up. The girl's name was Jessica. The offender was not the stereotypical rich-bitch that Burnside most loved to humiliate. She was blond, but naturally. Her face and figure were so stunning that even the TA was attracted to her, but she carried herself in a quiet, shy manner. The student came in to the instructor's office shaking. The TA, with her typical severe demeanor, silently pointed at the three previous versions of the paper. Burnside began sarcastically: "Well, Jessica, it seems you took this class three times before, under different names. You really like the class that much?" Jessica went white. There was no way that she could argue with the three term papers on the desk, staring at her like three witnesses. Burnside waved the student's paper in the air and laid it next to the others. "Looks like I have copy number four for my collection. You understand what happens next, right?" Jessica did not break down crying like the others. Her voice trembled, but she clearly was determined to get out of her situation if at all possible. "Ruth, please. I'll do anything for you. I...can't get kicked out." "Well, you should have thought about that before you turned in the paper. I can't help you. You did this to yourself." "Ruth, please. Anything. I'll do anything. Whatever you want. Please give me a second chance." "The matter is closed. You fucked up. That's the end of it." "Ruth...I'll do anything you want. Anything." Burnside suddenly realized what Jessica meant. She was offering herself to her TA. Burnside opened he mouth to reject Jessica's plea yet again, but then paused. The girl was stunning and being totally submissive to her. Burnside, who liked women as well as men, was attracted to her. This was a chance to have some real fun. Why not? While the student sat nervously watching, Burnside typed up the following on her computer for the first time: I, __________, admit to having attempted to commit plagiarism on __________. I have read and fully understand this university's cheating policy, and am fully aware of the consequences for committing an act of plagiarism under the student code of ethics. In lieu of disciplinary action from the university administration, I, __________, freely and willingly choose to accept the disciplinary alternative offered by my TA, Ruth Burnside. I understand that upon completion of the disciplinary alternative to Ms. Burnside's satisfaction, I will continue my coursework and no further action will be taken against me. Signed __________. Her heart pounding, Burnside printed the sheet and handed it to the trembling undergraduate. "OK Jessica, here's your second chance." The TA knew what she was about to do was risky. But the temptation of Jessica was simply too much for her to resist. She told the girl to be at her apartment that night, and let her know that the "disciplinary alternative" would be physical. Jessica, overwhelmed with relief that she was not going to be kicked out of the university after all, grabbed Burnside's hand with both of hers. "Oh Ruth, thank you! I'll do whatever it takes to make you forgive me!" "Well, we'll see how grateful you are tonight. Remember, what happens between us will be to my satisfaction. You signed that." ---------- A few hours later, Jessica was standing at Burnside's door, shaking. The TA greeted her wearing regular clothes. Her habit of wearing outfits during discipline sessions only started after she bought her house. The girl was scared. The earlier elation of avoiding expulsion had worn off. She realized that this was going to be a rough experience, when her TA picked up two sets of leather cuffs. Ruth loved the expression in the undergraduate's face when she saw the cuffs. "OK, get your clothes off." Jessica shook even harder as she took off her clothes. Burnside took the clothes to her bedroom. She returned to the living room to find the girl trying to cover herself. Burnside wrapped the cuffs around Jessica's wrists and ankles. She then clipped the offender's hands behind her back as tears started rolling down her cheeks. She cupped one of Jessica's breasts in her left hand, while gently brushing the tears off the girl's cheek with the fingertips of her right hand. "Jessica, you made you first mistake tonight by trying to cover up. I made you take off your clothes precisely because I want to see you. I am going to look at every part of your body and touch you where I want. You will spread your legs when I tell you to. You will touch me where I tell you to. When I tell you to do something, you will do it. Do you understand?" Holding back the urge to cry, Jessica nodded. Burnside then led the student to the middle of her living room in front of her sofa. "Stand up straight. Spread you legs." Burnside sat down. She spent a long time looking at the naked body in front of her. Jessica forced herself to stay standing straight with every bit of her willpower. The TA then stood up and started to touch the undergraduate's shoulders and breasts. She kissed and licked her nipples until they got hard. Burnside reached between the girl's legs. She ran her hand up and down the insides of her thighs. She put one hand on Jessica's bottom and ran her other hand through her pubic hair. She stroked her labia and clitoris. In spite of her fear and embarrassment, the girl became wet. Burnside rubbed her fingers back and forth soaking them with her lover's arousal. Then she held her hand to the student's face. "I don't want this on my hand. Clean it off." Burnside grabbed Jessica's hair with her clean hand and pushed her fingers from the dirty hand against the girl's mouth. Jessica licked the fingers clean. Feeling the young woman's tongue on her fingers aroused her even more. Burnside then took off her skirt and panties. She lay on her back on the sofa, with her legs spread wide. Jessica, her hands still behind her back, knelt in front of her TA. Burnside grabbed Jessica's hair and guided the girl's head between her legs. Jessica knew what was expected of her. Her tongue moved up and down Burnside's clitoris and vaginal opening. At first she was a bit clumsy with her tongue, but she figured it out quickly enough. Burnside's breathing quickened and she gasped as she climaxed. Jessica's ordeal was just beginning. Burnside forced her to get up, then kneel again on the floor in the middle of the room. She took a washrag and cleaned off the student's face. Somehow not being able to clean her own face made the experience even more humiliating for the younger woman. Burnside knew that, and loved the girl's expression as she began quietly crying. The TA got a couple of tissues and held them to Jessica's nose. "Blow your nose...there, that's a good girl." Jessica's punishment was next. Burnside unhooked her cuffs from behind her back and re-hooked them in the front. She then took Jessica's arm and guided her back to the sofa. The TA sat down and guided the student over her lap. Jessica had a beautiful bottom. Burnside moved her hand over her lover's trembling bottom and up and down the backs of her thighs. She slipped her hand between her bottom cheeks and moved her fingers up and down her vagina. Then, just as Jessica was about to climax, Burnside began spanking. SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!...SLAP!... The loud swats resonated throughout the living room. Jessica quickly started crying again, this time much louder. Burnside continued slapping until her arm began to hurt. She lost count of how many times she had swatted Jessica. By the time Burnside was finished the girl's lovely bottom was a deep dark pink, as dark as it would have been had she been hit with a paddle. Her body was shaking with sobs. Burnside glanced at her clock. She noticed that nearly 45 minutes had gone by since she had started spanking. No wonder her arm was so tired. She gently ran her hand over Jessica's bottom until the student stopped crying. She then slipped her hand between the girl's legs again. After a while, Jessica parted her legs and thrust herself up. Burnside gently fondled and caressed the entire area between the girl's bottom-hole and clitoris as she gasped and groaned. She looked up. Her eyes met those of her TA. "Ruth! Ruth, please!" Burnside had not counted on this. She helped Jessica sit up and kissed her. Then it was the TA who had her head between her student's legs, making her climax. Jessica lay back on the sofa, gasping with delight, her cuffed hands grabbing Burnside's hair. They ended up spending the night together. Burnside took her time with Jessica, in contrast with most of the guys she had slept with. Both women would remember that night for the rest of their lives. In spite of the intense experience they shared that night, Burnside and Jessica never spent another night together. Jessica had a boyfriend and Burnside had her various lovers. Burnside always hoped that her student might come back for another session, but she never did. Still, she gave her one-time lover an A on her make-up term paper when she should have gotten a B. Jessica passed the class and moved on with her life. Jessica was the first student out of many whom Burnside would punish for plagiarism or cheating. The professor was able to size up the students she had caught cheating, to determine who would submit to a physical punishment and who would not. So far she had stayed out of trouble with the campus administration. Burnside never felt guilty about using cheating as a justification for satisfying her sexual desires. What was the alternative for the student? Expulsion. Being blacklisted. A wrecked life. Burnside's method ultimately was much more humane. A night of pain, and then it was over. The student could move on with his or her studies. Her method gave the student a second chance. The student code of ethics did not. Amy was not the first student that she had punished who later had ended up being one of her best. Burnside knew most of her students hated her and were afraid of her. But, each semester, there were the few who were fiercely loyal to her. Those were the ones who kept her in teaching, when she could have pursued work in the private sector for more money. ---------- Ruth Burnside's thoughts returned to her daughter. She wondered if her daughter was in college now, and if so what she was studying. She wondered if her daughter would ever try to contact her. If she did, Burnside had nothing to hide. She would tell her daughter the truth about herself and why she could not keep her. She had a feeling that wherever her daughter was, she was doing great things. She would be about Amy's age right now. Amy entered Burnside's mind again. Amy Debbs had her faults, but she was tough. She was a survivor. Burnside just recently had found out about her student's months on the street and the overdose of her friend. She also knew that Amy's parents were dead and that she was living with that photographer. Amy had overcome all her losses and was now in college. Burnside liked that about her. Burnside realized that Amy admired her and wanted her understanding of the world. She understood that Amy was desperate to please her, and not just for grades. There was something more to Amy's feelings about her, something much more personal. The professor saw that quite clearly tonight. It was the expression in Amy's face that caused the professor to cancel her punishment. Suddenly Burnside realized what it was she saw in Amy. She looked into her student's face and subconsciously saw her daughter. She saw a girl she wanted to mold, to toughen, to prepare for great things in the world. Burnside was doing it the only way she knew how. Had she been able to keep and raise her own daughter, she would have been like Amy, faults and all. Amy had no parents and obviously had that gap in her life. Burnside obviously had a gap in her own life, her missing daughter. Somehow, in a weird, distorted way, Amy Debbs and Ruth Burnside were drawn to each other. My daughter, thought Burnside. I guess losing her affected me more than I realized. ---------- Maynard finally dumped. His owner bent down to pick it up with a paper towel and dropped it in a paper bag. With her mission accomplished, the professor took her dog back home. Maynard had been her companion since her last year getting her Master's degree. He would be gone in a couple of weeks at the most, along with Burnside's youth. She sensed that the dog's passing would mark the halfway point of her life. It was all downhill from here. Burnside snapped at herself. Stop it! So you're no better than anyone else! You have 30 good years left to do something with yourself! Get your next lecture ready, for a start! With that she sat down to review her lesson plans. Then she e-mailed a couple of co-workers to exchange information about the latest cheating scams going on. She got an e-mail back with a new website that had a bunch of papers posted from UCLA. Her e-mail acquaintance gave her a password to access the site. Burnside checked the website and looked over the list of papers. She was sure that eventually she would see some of these in her classes. Ha! She would have to tell Amy and her other student aide to be on the lookout for this newest batch of papers. Dr. Burnside was ready for class, but still had an hour to kill before she had to be at the university. She began to clean up, starting with the dishes. Suddenly the enormity of her task dispirited her. She finished filling the dishwasher and turned it on. The rest would simply have to wait. To hell with it. She could clean up tonight. Her depression returned. She was desperately tired, but still could not sleep. She gave up on the thought of getting any rest and got dressed for class. ---------- As she put on her severe dark business outfit, the professor glanced down at a very worn-out stuffed toy raccoon that was sitting by her dresser mirror. The stuffed animal seemed out of place, sitting alone on her dresser. However, in her life that toy was not out of place at all. Seeing the threadbare raccoon returned her thoughts to her childhood, and to the hatred she felt for her parents and their religion. She thought about that one Christmas, which more than any other event in her life, forged Ruth Burnside's character and personality. Ruth was seven at the time, just about to turn eight. At that time she still believed. She still believed in Santa Claus, in God, and in Christmas. Like any other small child, she had her wish list of things that she wanted. She knew better than to hope for a lot of presents, but she had made it a point to be good all year. Certainly Santa and her parents would reward her efforts with something. Ruth's hopes rose when she saw a large number of toys and other presents in the garage. She peeked through the door when her parents and another couple from their church wrapped them. Then came Christmas Morning. Ruth was heartbroken when all she got were a couple of sweaters. Ruth's father, beaming with happiness, gathered the family for breakfast and lectured his daughters on the joys of giving. Then the family piled into the car and drove to different charities to drop off the gifts. So that was it, the gifts were for charities, not for Ruth and her sister. As the trunk was emptied of presents Ruth's emotions went from hope, to despair, to hatred, and then to rebellion. Her child's mind asked the question, why were the charity children more important than herself and her sister? She had been good, really good, but she realized that there would be no presents for her, just the same crappy clothing. So Santa had not listened, or if he did, her father had taken her presents for the charity children. She was old enough to understand what her father's words, "the joy of sacrifice" really meant for her. The Burnside girls would sacrifice, but for her there was no joy in it. As they went from charity to charity Ruth quietly glared at the other children with hatred as they opened the presents that should have been for her. Ruth's rebellion that day was a quiet one, but it was the first out of many secrets she would keep from her parents. When her father was not looking, she grabbed a small soft package and pushed it under her father's car seat. Later she could retrieve it and see what it was. Santa had failed her. Ruth had to help herself. Ruth's heart pounded for the rest of the trip around the charities. Would God punish her? She was sinning. She felt the terror of religious guilt, and wondered if God would strike her down. But no, nothing happened. The Burnside family finished their distribution of presents and returned home. There would be the evening prayers, and then their meager dinner. Ruth's father spent the day blissfully unaware of the change that was taking place in his daughter's soul. That night Ruth slipped into the garage to see what was in the package. It was a small stuffed toy raccoon. It was cute, but an average child would not have looked at it twice. She returned to her bedroom and got in bed with it, snuggling her face against the toy's soft fur. She called the raccoon "Rickster". Rickster led a clandestine life in Ruth's bedroom. She made a bed for him out of a small cardboard box and some old washrags. Ruth wondered where Rickster could sleep and not be discovered. Finally she settled on the inside of her chest of drawers. She realized that if the bottom drawer was pulled completely out, there was just enough room for Rickster and his bed behind the drawer. At night Rickster slept with Ruth. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 19 Ruth quit praying shortly after Rickster entered her life. She quit believing in Santa Claus. Once she was exposed to evolution in school, she was able to quit believing in God. She stopped respecting her father and stopped feeling guilty about loathing the recipients of her family's charity donations. And to think, Ruth's entire transformation had started with the theft of a simple toy, a stuffed raccoon that probably did not even cost $ 5.00. Over the years Rickster became more and more worn out, as Ruth lavished her attention and playtime on him. When Ruth got older Rickster went in her school backpack to bring her good luck. Rickster went into Burnside's seabag in the Navy and to college with her. For the last 20 years he had sat in silent vigil on the professor's dresser and had witnessed many strange things in her bedroom. ---------- Finally Burnside decided to sit down and torture herself with CNBC some more. The phrases of that pretty announcer and her cheerleader guests drifted through her mind...great investment opportunity...I see only great things ahead for _________ (fill in the blank)...great long term prospects...in the long run...long term...buying opportunity...invest...dynamic sector...bright future... Old Maynard staggered into the living room, feebly wagging his tail. He shoved his nose under his owner's hand. Burnside half-heartedly petted her dog, thinking about his namesake, John Maynard Keynes. Long term. Long run. What shit. John Maynard Keynes knew the correct answer. She reflected that it was Keynes who made the truest statement that ever came out of an economist. "In the long run, we're all dead." ---------- Author's note: The original idea behind this chapter and Ruth Burnside's disillusionment with financial news channels came from a report that PBS anchor Bill Moyers did about the hyping of IPO's in 2003. The first draft of this chapter was written towards the end of that year, when the stock scandals focusing on the telecommunications industry and IPO's were at their height. However, Ruth Burnside's experiences and concerns are applicable to other financial scandals as well. Had I written this chapter during the early 1990s, I would have referenced the Savings&Loan scandal. Had I written it towards the end of the second George W. Bush administration, it would have been the housing market and real estate boom. That's precisely the point I'm trying to make, that history repeats itself with these ongoing investor booms that are based on hype and scams instead of honest reporting. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 20 Chapter 20 - A Conversation with Burnside Wendy's disappointment with not having been punished at the Halloween Party intensified throughout the first two weeks of November. Perhaps Amy and Paul did not need to be punished, but she did. Wendy increasingly became convinced that an intense punishment experience was what she needed to get over her problems with gambling. She realized that she could not talk to either Amy or Suzanne about what was going on inside her head. They would not understand. Finally she decided to talk directly to Dr. Burnside. In the middle of November Wendy went to Burnside's house with a copy of her book, "Wendy". Her heart pounding, she rang the professor's doorbell. It was strange to see Burnside opening the door dressed in a simple sweatsuit, instead of a business outfit or a fetish outfit. Yes, even Ruth Burnside wore sweats. Burnside was working on some lesson plans, but she was not really rushed, so there was some time for her to sit with Wendy and look at her book. Wendy was so nervous she barely could speak. She could not look her former professor in the face. At first Burnside was totally perplexed as to why Wendy had come to her house. She could tell that Wendy was not too sure herself. However, she was polite to Wendy. She invited her in and offered her some tea. Wendy sat down. She looked at Burnside nervously. Her hands shook as she gripped her book. It was the professor who began. "Wendy, from the looks of you I'm going to guess there is something in your life that you are having a lot of problems with. I'm going to guess that you expect me to help you. I hope it's not something with your studies, since you're not my student." Wendy nervously shook her head. Finally she held out the book to her hostess. Burnside took it, read the back cover, and thumbed through it. Immediately it captured her attention. Burnside thumbed back to the beginning of the book and read the introduction. She skimmed over the essays and again looked at the pictures. The issue Wendy was dealing with was clear enough. The fact that Wendy had come to her for help also was clear enough. What Burnside was not sure about was how to help Wendy. She looked over the pages trying to figure out what was going on in Wendy's head and what she wanted. That was hard, since Wendy did not know herself what she wanted. Burnside studied Wendy's drawings for their artistic merit. They were extremely good. Some of the images aroused Burnside. Every so often Burnside looked up at the artist, who was fidgeting nervously. Finally Burnside decided to get some more answers from Wendy. "Your work is very good. I'll be honest and tell you that your pictures excite even me. But I need to know why you're showing me this book." "I...I don't really know. I...need help. I don't know what to do. This...thing in me..." "Wendy, let's get something straight. There is no "thing" inside you. You gamble because you want to. The issue you face is not getting rid of a 'thing'. The issue is convincing yourself that you don't want to gamble anymore. What you're dealing with is not a chemical dependency, and you'd better stop thinking of it like that." "Dr. Burnside, my counselor says that..." "Bullshit. What you do is because it's what you want to do. There is no 'thing'. Now, what do you want from me?" Wendy fidgeted. She looked at the floor. She couldn't answer because she still did not know. "Let's get something else straight. I don't like people who look away during a conversation. You look at me." Reluctantly Wendy looked up. Her eyes met Burnside's. "Now answer. What do you want?" Wendy shook with fear. Her voice was barely audible. "Dr. Burnside, this past Spring I gambled $ 60,000 dollars. I want...I need..." "Come on, Wendy, out with it. You need to say whatever it is that you want to tell me." "I need to be punished. I need to suffer. I need to pay for my stupidity...with real pain.." "And so you are asking that from me..." Wendy nodded her head. Burnside's lips tightened. "Wendy, you don't nod when I ask you a question. Now, answer it properly." "I...I want you to whip me. Like in my drawings." "Whip you? Why? What good do you think that's going to do you?" "I...I don't know. I...just want it to stop. I want it all to stop." "What to stop, Wendy? I'm not going to try to guess what's going on in that brain of yours. So let's hear it." Suddenly Wendy broke down crying. "I hate my life! I can't stand myself! Those pictures...that's what I want to happen to me! And no one gets it, no one understands...not even you! I thought...you'd understand...but you don't!" As Wendy buried her face in her hands, Burnside suddenly was faced with a dilemma. The girl was asking her for help. The professor took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to deal with this huge burden that suddenly had been thrust upon her. Burnside was not a subtle or gentile person. She was not one to sit with Wendy and hold her hand and try to comfort her. Burnside suspected that Amy and Suzanne must have spent the entire year trying to comfort Wendy, to no avail. It was apparent that she had been receiving counseling, but that wasn't working either. Wendy did not need to be comforted; what she needed was quite the opposite. "Wendy, sit up! Get your hands off your face and sit the fuck up!" Wendy was surprised as being spoken to so harshly. She complied, although tears continued to stream down her face. "Now, we need to get a few things straight! Don't tell me that I'm the one who doesn't understand, because it's YOU! You're the one who doesn't understand! You don't understand a god-damned thing about who I am or why I do what I do! And something else. You say that you want to be punished like in your drawings. It's obvious you don't know what you're talking about! There's no way I'd go that far with anyone, even if they asked me to! I'm not into punishing people to the point I have to pay their hospital bills! Your drawings are excellent, but they're not real! It's obvious you can't separate fantasy from reality if you think you could endure what's in your drawings!" Wendy sat silently, shaking slightly. Suddenly, Burnside realized something that alarmed her. Wendy was in very serious psychological trouble, something that went way beyond a simple addiction to gambling. Burnside wondered if perhaps she was only days away from committing suicide. There was only one way to find out, and that was to ask her quickly and directly, extracting the truth before the student had time to think of an evasive answer. Burnside drew a quick breath. "OK, a quick question. Are you, right now, thinking about committing suicide?" Wendy sat silent. "I asked you a question. Are you thinking about committing suicide?" "Yes." "And how are you planning to do it?" "I thought about cutting my throat." "With what? What are you planning to use?" "My fantasy was one of those old straight edge razors, but I don't know where to get one. So, I...I have this Swiss Army knife with a real sharp blade." "You gave it some thought, then, method and instrument. Got it all figured out." Wendy looked at the floor. "Yes, Dr. Burnside. I've been thinking about it." Burnside stood up. "You're thinking about cutting your throat with a Swiss Army knife. How nice! How fucking selfish of you! Did you ever give it any thought as to what that might do to Amy or your photographer friend, if they found you dead with your throat cut? Or to your parents, if they had to see you in the morgue with a big, bloody gash in your neck? Any thought about any of that at all? Or was it just all about you?" Wendy sadly shook her head. "Don't you shake your head, you answer my question!" "No, I never gave that any thought." "So it was all about you! Poor little Wendy, oh poor baby, how much she suffered! Never mind anyone else! Never mind that the people who care about you the most are the ones who you'd hurt the most by cutting your throat! Never mind that whoever finds you would have to look at a floor full of your blood, deal with the police, explain to everyone what happened, try to make sense out of it themselves, and probably have nightmares for the rest of their life! I guess that just doesn't matter! Think about that, for a change!" Wendy sat staring straight ahead of her, tears running down her face. "I was hoping that...maybe if you punished me, it would force out whatever it is in me that's making me...I don't know...making me think all this stuff." Burnside thought about the situation. She realized that she did have a good opportunity to help her forlorn guest, because she felt that she understood Wendy better than anyone else in her life. Burnside suspected that she had been the first person to hear her visitor clearly admit that she wanted to commit suicide. It was obvious that the kindness and support that Wendy had been receiving were not helping her. Burnside was convinced that instead of being treated with kindness, Wendy needed to be treated roughly and submitted to a very strict regime. What the girl needed was a lifestyle change. Yes. A lifestyle change, that was it. She needed to be driven, to be forced into a structured existence, and face real consequences if she failed to meet her obligations. Burnside thought about basic training in the Navy. She remembered one part of her training, facing the gas chamber. She had been afraid of the gas chamber as much as everyone else. But when she came out, cleared her lungs, and wiped the snot and tears off her face, she felt better about herself. Burnside realized at that moment she could face her fears and overcome them. Wendy needed something along those lines. The professor felt she could do something that would work. "What you are asking from me is something more long term. Sure, I can whip you. But what good will that do if you don't change your lifestyle? It's your lifestyle you need to change. You have a lot of stupid thoughts floating around your head, and what you need is a long-term change in the way you live to get your mind on something else. That's why people go to in-patient counseling, to change their lifestyles and to change what they're thinking." Wendy looked at Burnside intently. The professor mulled over her next words. An idea began to take shape in her head. "Wendy, how would you like to live with me in the Spring? I can work with you. I'll make you change your lifestyle." Wendy nodded. Burnside's face became tense with anger. "Wendy, you do not nod when I ask you something! That's the third time I told you! Answer me properly!" "Yes, Dr. Burnside, I'd like it if you can help me. I'll live with you, if you think it will do me any good." "OK. I want to explain a few things. Once you move in, you will give up your independence and your life as you now know it, for the entire Spring semester. The moment you come through that front door, you will remove all your clothing, and you will put on a collar. That collar will be the only thing I will let you wear when you are in my house. Once you enter my house I will lock up your clothes and you won't see them again until you leave in May. Do you understand me?" "Yes, Dr. Burnside." "You will study. You will take a full load of correspondence classes in your major and get A's in all of them. I will check your work before you send it off. You'll exercise and get into decent physical shape. I will give you a schedule that you will adhere to. You will not have much time to think about gambling, or anything else. Do you understand?" "Yes, Dr. Burnside." "You will be responsible for maintaining my house clean to my satisfaction. You will cook my meals. You will clean my shoes and iron my clothes. You will serve me and my guests. You will host my Mardi Gras party. You will do whatever I tell you to do. You will satisfy me sexually, when I'm not with one of my other friends. If you make any mistakes you will confess them immediately and I will punish you. You do anything that irritates me and I will punish you. If I need to tell you to do something twice I will punish you. If you ever give me or anyone else attitude, I will punish you. Do you understand all that?" "Yes, Dr. Burnside, I understand." "Now, is that what you want?" "Yes...Dr. Burnside, that is what I want." "Good, so we have an agreement. I want you to think this over until the end of the semester. I expect you to finish well and get A's in your classes. Don't sign up for anything in the Spring except correspondence classes. I can help you get a couple of independent studies so you don't lose the semester if you can't get a full schedule. If you are determined to go through with this, be here the day after Christmas at 9:00 am. You'll need to bring a cell phone that you can re-charge. That's all you will need. Do you understand?" "Yes, Dr. Burnside, I understand." "There is something else I want you to understand. This will be a chance for you to start over. It's a second chance at life. Beats cutting your throat." ---------- Wendy left the house with her emotions in turmoil. She was dreadfully afraid of her tentative arrangement with Burnside. It was obvious that Wendy would suffer intensely during the time she would spend with her former professor. She wondered about the classes. The fact that Burnside wanted her to take correspondence classes and independent studies obviously meant that she would not be let out of her mentor's house. She would spend the entire semester in isolation, naked, and at Burnside's mercy. As cruel as the professor would be to her, it also was obvious that Burnside's thoughts never excluded Wendy's future. She would be taking a full load of classes, or at least close to it. Academically, her impending sentence of servitude would not affect her. Wendy understood that her future mistress expected her to leave the house at the end of the spring semester and continue with her studies and her life. Wendy trembled at the thought that the slightest mistake on her part would result in a punishment. She had seen Burnside's array of punishment devices. Probably she would feel all of them at some time or another. That scared her and excited her at the same time. Over the past six months the student had fantasized continuously about horrible punishments being inflicted on herself. Burnside had said that she did not go that far, but Wendy knew from her own experience that Burnside knew how to inflict intense pain on another person. If Wendy went through with the arrangement, her body would be feeling that pain on a daily basis. Burnside had said that Wendy would be wearing a collar. Wendy knew enough about S&M culture to realize the significance of that statement. Wendy officially would become Burnside's slave at 9:01 on December 26. ---------- What Wendy did not realize was that her upcoming servitude under Burnside already was changing her. For the first time since the Spring she forgot about her urge to gamble and her secret urge to commit suicide. She had to get ready for December 26. There was a lot to take care of. She started with her parents, telling them that she was going to enroll in an intense in-patient counseling program at the end of the semester, something similar to a boot camp. The only contact she would be permitted with the outside world would be her cell phone, and that only in the case of an emergency. Wendy's father, still totally perplexed at his daughter's gambling insanity, agreed that Wendy had to do whatever it took to get back to normal. His anger at her had softened. It was clear that if Wendy could overcome her problems, eventually she would be able to repair the relationship with her parents and move back in with them. Without telling Amy, Wendy's next step was to visit Robert at his office. She asked him to draft a power of attorney that would allow Amy to completely take over her affairs until May. Wendy told Robert the same version of her situation that she told her father; she was about to enroll in an intense in-patient counseling program that would last the entire spring semester. That left Robert perplexed, since he had heard of all kinds of programs, but never one like what Wendy was describing. He did not press her for details. Wendy concentrated even more on her classes. Burnside told her that she had to get A's. She already was doing well, but the thought of Burnside's leather switch made her push herself even harder. Wendy talked to her department chairman to see what classes she could take through correspondence. She entered the chairman's office with a copy of her book and her explanation about the in-patient counseling program. There were four courses that she could take as correspondence classes. Wendy made arrangements with one of her professors for two independent studies. That gave her six classes. She figured six classes would be plenty, given all her other upcoming responsibilities. ---------- The biggest immediate change in Wendy's life was her relationship with Amy. Wendy suddenly was desperate to spend time with Amy and have fun with her as much as possible before December 26. During November and December Wendy invited Amy to several movies and a concert. Their daily meetings for coffee, suspended since late March, resumed again. Wendy shocked Amy by asking her the details of her life with Paul and her studies. She was curious as to what Suzanne was doing with her pictures. Wendy had taken no interest in Amy's life since Spring Break, and this was a nice change. Wendy was eager to share meals with Amy and help her in the apartment. Amy was elated at having her friend back to normal. In spite of Wendy's return to "normal" in Amy's eyes, she realized that something strange was happening, or about to happen, to her friend. As finals approached, Amy asked Wendy what was going on. Wendy, with only a touch of apprehension, explained her upcoming arrangement with Burnside. "That's why I'm so anxious to spend as much time as I can with you. I'm afraid I won't see much of you or anyone in the Spring." Amy was surprised, but she did not object to her friend's plans. Amy had undergone enough painful experiences of her own to be able to comprehend Wendy's thoughts more than she realized. Amy could understand what Wendy hoped to accomplish by submitting to Burnside. Wendy's internment in the professor's house would be a death, of sorts. She would be re-born coming out of Burnside's house in May. Wendy did not know how she would turn out, but she knew that she would be different than she was now. Amy realized that two years ago she had gone through a similar experience. She suffered tremendously during the final weeks of her trip with Courtney. Amy's high school life, and everything she had been up to that time, died in that alley with Courtney. Amy saw the strapping she received from Robert as her painful re-birth into the world, and the beginning of who she was now. Wendy would have a similar experience with Burnside. Amy and Wendy became much closer during the final two weeks before Christmas. They opened their souls up to each other. Amy finally was able to talk completely freely about Courtney and what she felt about her death. Wendy opened up about her own experiences in high school. They talked about their parents and their childhoods, their friends, and life in general. Amy thought with regret about Wendy's lovely body being covered with welts. But she also trusted that Burnside would be careful and not go too far. Amy thought about Suzanne. She knew that the photographer would be horrified upon learning about Wendy's plans. ---------- Amy decided to talk to her professor about Wendy, right after the last of the finals had been graded and turned back to the students. With finals over, Burnside seemed more relaxed and talkative. They discussed the tests and how to improve them, the plans for the spring semester, and Burnside's thoughts on recent economic developments in the US. Finally Amy asked about her friend. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 20 "Amy, I don't care to talk about Wendy. What she tells you is her business. But I cannot add anything. She will spend time with me, she will face her problems, and she will move on with her life. That's as much as I can say." "But will I see her?" "I don't know. You might. It depends on how she does. You'll at least see her at the Mardi Gras party, but I know that's not what you're talking about. I'll let you see her if I feel it will help her." Amy sat silently for a few moments, then spoke again. "Dr. Burnside, you will at least let her work on her art? You'll give her time for that?" "Of course I will. She's good. I like her drawings, but I'm sure that doesn't surprise you. Do me a favor. Pick up whatever art supplies you think she'll need over the next semester and give them to me before Christmas. I'll have them in her room waiting for her when she comes over." ---------- Wendy spent Christmas with Amy. Robert had invited both of them to spend Christmas with himself and Suzanne, but Amy turned him down, explaining that she needed to spend time alone with Wendy prior to her treatment. Robert was even more perplexed about the whole affair. He explained his doubts to Suzanne. The photographer simply responded that whatever was going on, Amy knew about it and had not objected. The morning after Christmas Amy and Wendy got into Suzanne's minivan. Wendy wore a sweatsuit and had in her hand the only item Burnside allowed her, her cell phone with its re-charger. Wendy would not be allowed to talk to anyone, but she would have the phone in her room in the same way a person might use a safeword during S&M play. Wendy's correspondence books already were at the professor's house. Amy had taken them over a couple of days before with Wendy's art supplies. Wendy was scared, but at the same time resigned and relieved. Her six weeks of nervous waiting were about to come to an end. She was more determined than ever to go through with this. Amy drove up into Burnside's driveway. She squeezed Wendy's hand, and with that she got out. Amy watched as her friend rang the doorbell. The door opened almost immediately. Wendy slipped through the door and vanished as the door went shut. Amy pulled out of the driveway. For the first time in almost two years she felt terribly alone. Not lonely, but alone. She wondered what was happening to her friend on the other side of that door. ---------- Amy returned to the apartment after dropping off Wendy at Burnside's house. She still felt adrift after having left her to a semester of harsh servitude. For the last month she had truly enjoyed having her friend back to normal, and now she was gone again. Amy faced the prospect of spending a couple of days by herself. Paul was in Pennsylvania with his family and would not be back until December 30. Of course Amy could go over to Robert's place, but as soon as she did there was the problem of explaining where Wendy was and what had happened to her. Amy felt that she needed to talk to Suzanne and Robert separately about what Wendy was facing and why she felt it was necessary to submit to Burnside. Amy felt that Robert would understand more than Suzanne, considering what he had endured with his wife Tricia. Amy remembered Robert's comment about Tricia that day, now almost two years ago, that she first asked about Robert's strap and later had it used on her own bottom. "Tricia was a lot like you. She had a wild side that if let out of control, would wreck her life." Amy's memories went back to that moment in Robert's car, and to her feelings of guilt, anxiety, desire, curiosity, and sexual arousal. She remembered Robert's cruelty and kindness to her that night, and the days following when she re-entered the world changed. It was not the punishment that changed her. The change in Amy's life began months before when she watched Courtney slowly kill herself. The change intensified when Courtney died and Robert picked Amy up from the police station. The change in Amy's soul continued when she enrolled in classes and began modeling for Suzanne. The shock of the strapping did not change Amy, but it symbolized her painful re-entry into the world. It was only afterwards that Amy was able to forgive herself for her actions in high school and the disaster with Courtney. Amy's thoughts went back to the first Halloween party at Burnside's house, now over a year ago, and the term paper that followed. That term paper finalized Amy's change from who she had been in high school to who she was now. Amy realized that she owed Burnside a huge debt for giving her a sense of direction in her studies. It was because of that party that she had met Wendy in the first place and made the discovery about her own grandfather. Ruth Burnside was by no means a lovable person, but she had pardoned Amy twice for offenses that should have ended her career under the university rules. Amy realized that Burnside, in her unique way, actually was very forgiving of people's mistakes. She forgave on her own terms, which were not very pleasant ones. However, she always was willing to give a person a second chance, or in Amy's case, two second chances. She realized, at that moment, that she cared deeply for Burnside, in spite of the professor's unpleasant personality and harshness. Amy did not know how Suzanne would react to Wendy's servitude, other than she would be very upset. It was quite possible that her roommate would storm over to Burnside's house and demand that Wendy come out. Amy wanted to avoid that if at all possible, because she was convinced that Wendy was doing the right thing. Wendy needed the same sense of direction that Amy now enjoyed. Most importantly, she needed to forgive herself for her trips to Atlantic City and her attempt to pawn her family's pendent. If Wendy were anything like Amy, the only way she could forgive herself would be to endure a harsh experience first. Amy knew that the idea of seeking out suffering made no sense to Suzanne. Amy's roommate had no need for enduring a harsh experience, because she had endured seven years of physical and emotional abuse from her father. Amy realized that Suzanne was a survivor. She still was amazed that Suzanne had endured so much suffering and had not turned to drugs, or alcohol, or religion, or some other escape while in high school. There was no self-destructive flaw in her personality as there was in the personalities of Amy, Wendy, Courtney, and Robert's dead wife Tricia. Instead Suzanne had pushed ahead in her life and had become a rock in the lives of Robert and her models. How could Amy explain Wendy's needs to Suzanne in a way that made sense to her? It was bitterly cold outside and Amy had no desire to go back out. She spent a long time just looking out the window at the bleak cold weather. Finally she went into Suzanne's studio to deflate the air mattress Wendy had been sleeping on. She rolled it up and took it back to her room. She returned to Suzanne's studio room and sadly looked through the volumes of pictures of Wendy and of the two of them together. Amy wondered if she ever would model with her friend again. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 21 Chapter 21 - Wendy's Collar Like Wendy, Burnside was dressed in a sweatsuit. Wendy was a bit surprised, thinking that Burnside would be in a fetish outfit and would whip her the moment she was through the door. However, the living room was perfectly normal. The only thing Wendy saw that indicated her upcoming ordeal was an open paper shopping bag sitting upright on the floor. She looked at the bag, then at Burnside. "Get undressed. Put your clothes in the bag." Wendy pulled off her shoes and socks, then her sweats and underwear. She put everything in the bag. Naked, with her hands at her sides, her heart pounding so hard she barely could breathe, she stood next to her clothes. She looked Burnside in the face. She did not dare look away. Burnside took the bag to her own bedroom and locked it up in a trunk. She returned with a leather collar that had a lock on it. She put a key in the collar to open the lock. She held the collar out in front of her. "Wendy, what does this collar mean?" Wendy swallowed hard. "It...means that I must...do everything you tell me, Dr Burnside." "...and if you don't?" "Y...you'll punish me, Dr. Burnside." "And you agree with that? You will obey everything I tell you, and accept punishment from me if you screw-up?" "Yes, Dr. Burnside." "Good. Now you will kneel." Her heart pounding even more, Wendy sank to her knees. Burnside stood behind Wendy and lowered the collar over her face. The collar closed around her neck and she felt the lock click shut. For the next four months this collar would be the only thing that Wendy would be permitted to wear, no matter who else was in the house. She would have it on constantly, only being allowed to take it off when she got cleaned up. It fit loosely around her throat, but for the time that she would be in this house the feel of the collar reminded Wendy of her position. Wendy was desperate to get her first punishment over with. She felt that would break her tension, and at least give her an idea of what to expect. However, her first punishment would not be on her first day. Burnside surprised her servant with her next words. The professor directed her attention to a chair that had a folded bed sheet and an electric hair clipper on it. "Take that sheet and spread it out on the floor next to that outlet by the door. Then, you will plug in that hair clipper and lay it on the sheet. Once you have done that, I want you to kneel on the sheet, facing the wall." Wendy's heart pounded. She hadn't expected this. But she knew that Burnside was just testing her. Surly she didn't mean to...? Wendy did as she was directed. She knelt facing the wall. Burnside moved behind her, picked up the clipper, and turned it on. "Wendy, before I joined the Navy, I shaved my head. I caught hell for it in Basic, but I did it because that's what the guys had to do. I did it to prove to myself, and to them, that I was no better and no worse than they were. I'm telling you this because I'm going to shave your head. I don't want you to think that I would force you to do something I wouldn't do. Now, put your hands out in front of you, palms facing up. Don't move." Wendy gasped. She had expected to be severely punished. She had not expected to lose her hair. So this was it. With her hair gone there really would be no going back. Burnside ran the clipper up Wendy's neck over the top of her head. She picked up the strand of fallen hair and placed it in the younger woman's trembling hands. Wendy felt the clipper slide up her scalp again, and Burnside laid yet more hair in the student's hands. As more and more of her hair moved from her scalp to her hands, Wendy struggled to stay still and control her breathing. Burnside finished with the main part of the job in less than a minute. As Wendy knelt with a shocked expression and her hands full of thick black hair, Burnside changed the setting on the clippers to finish. In less than five minutes Wendy's scalp was covered only by smooth stubble, less than an eighth of an inch in length. Wendy now felt much more naked, with her scalp exposed to the cool air of Burnside's living room. Without any warning, tears began to flow down her cheeks. Burnside left her kneeling for a few minutes, to let the lesson sink in. Finally she directed Wendy to put her hair in the trash and to put the sheet in the washing machine. Wendy then returned to Burnside and knelt in front of her. She still was crying. She felt ashamed about not being able to stop. The professor contemplated her with deep satisfaction. She had passed the first test as her servant. "Wendy, I don't think you truly understood what it is to submit to another person. To submit means you will surrender whatever I choose to take from you. Submitting is about much more than just being punished." "Yes, Dr. Burnside." "Since this is your first day here, I want you to relax and get settled in. Enjoy it, because today is the only day that I will let you make any mistakes and not punish you. Starting tomorrow, I expect top performance out of you." Burnside grabbed Wendy's wrist and ordered her to stand up. She directed Wendy to the dining room table. She had prepared breakfast for herself and her servant. Wendy stood at the table, waiting for her mistress to tell her to sit down. Burnside looked sharply at Wendy. "Wendy, you need to seat me first. Then you can sit down." Wendy looked at Burnside perplexed. "Pull my chair back far enough to let me get between it and the table. Then move the chair under me as I sit down." "Yes ma'am." With an irritated expression Burnside looked at her servant, then spoke again. "Wendy, I don't role-play. I think role-playing is stupid, and you and I are not role-playing anyway. You will address me as Dr. Burnside. You will not call me ma'am, or mistress, or any nonsense like that. You will address me just like you would in class. I will call you Wendy, just like I would in class. Do you understand?" "Yes, Dr. Burnside." "Another thing. If you want to ask me something or tell me something, you will approach me, you will kneel, and then you will ask me for permission to speak. I don't want you running around the house blurting stuff out." "Yes, Dr. Burnside." Wendy's day was full of lessons. Burnside had very clear ideas as to how meals would be prepared and served, how the house would be cleaned, what the professor wanted for comfort throughout the day. There was coffee in the morning and tea in the afternoon. There was dinner. Burnside explained that on the days she was out she would call Wendy about two hours ahead of time to tell her what she needed to fix for dinner. There were recipe books on the counter that she would be expected to use. Any day that Wendy managed to stay out of trouble she would eat dinner at the table with Burnside after serving her and seating her. Wendy now realized why Burnside had resolved not to punish her during the first day. With all the mistakes she made, she would have been punished non-stop. It would be hard to keep all of it straight tomorrow, when she faced the prospect of real punishment. At the same time, Wendy now understood that Burnside was not going to indiscriminately chastise her. On the days Wendy made mistakes, she would be punished. On the days she did not make any mistakes, she would not be punished. Burnside told her servant that there would be three hours of study in the afternoon after lunch and three more hours of study at night. Each morning Wendy would kneel in front of her mistress and present her coursework from the previous day for the professor to review, before sending the assignments off to her professors. By the end of the first day Wendy realized how hard the professor planned to push her. Wendy's duties included an hour of required exercises that Burnside had learned in the Navy, and still performed every morning before eating breakfast. Wendy would be required to exercise before serving dinner. She had her first exercise session that afternoon. On the first day, for a full hour, Burnside shouted at her servant while she performed military-style calisthenics. Wendy's bare breasts and bottom jiggled as the frightened, sweaty girl attempted to follow her mentor's instructions. The sound of Burnside's voice and Wendy's responses would have been all too familiar to anyone who spent time in the military: "ONE...TWO...THREE.." "One!" "ONE...TWO...THREE.." "Two!" "ONE...TWO...THREE.." "Three!" "ONE...TWO...THREE.." "Four!" The first session ended with Wendy throwing up in the bathroom from being out of shape. The following day she managed not to throw up, on the third day exercising no longer made her sick. At 7:00 p.m. the professor told her servant to get cleaned up. Wendy knelt while Burnside unlocked her collar. Involuntarily she rubbed her throat when the collar came off. For the first time Wendy had a chance to see herself in the mirror. She was shocked by the change in her appearance. With her hair reduced to stubble, her breasts and shoulders bare, and a frightened, intense expression in her eyes, she hardly recognized the face staring back at her in the mirror. Wendy examined herself, still trying to accept the thought that the strange image was indeed who she had become. After her bath Wendy's collar went back on. She finally saw her room after her bath. By this time she was exhausted. The room was furnished simply, with a single bed, a small book shelf with textbooks and art supplies, and a desk with a chair and an old computer and printer. Wendy looked at her mistress in gratitude when she saw the art supplies. Burnside continued with her day's instructions. "If I don't have anything going on, you will be dismissed after 7:30. I expect you to study until 10:30. After that you may sleep or work on your art. I expect you to keep your door open at all times." "Dr. Burnside, I request permission to speak." "What is it?" "Thank you for the art things." "You'll need to thank Amy. She was the one who reminded me about your art." Wendy pulled out her textbooks and reviewed the assignments until 10:30. She then pulled back the covers to get in bed. Suddenly she noticed a sturdy metal ring screwed into each of the thick wooden bedposts, close to the mattress. She wondered how long it would be before her wrists and ankles would be attached to those rings. ---------- Wendy made it through the next day without doing anything to warrant a punishment. Her first full day at the professor's house began when her alarm went off at 6:00. As she left her room to go to the kitchen to start breakfast, she heard a strange noise coming from Burnside's bedroom. It was a low mechanical hum accompanied with a constant tap-tap-tap and heavy breathing. Wendy peeked through the door open to see what was going on. Wendy was greeted by a rather strange sight. Burnside was on a treadmill, completely naked except for a sports bra and running shoes. The incline on the treadmill was set at maximum and it was clear that the professor was exerting herself as much as possible. Perspiration was pouring down her body, and the sports bra itself was quite wet. The muscles in Burnside's legs and bottom strained and moved under her sweaty skin. Wendy marveled at Burnside's body. For a person who was 41 years old, Burnside was incredibly fit and had a lovely athletic figure. There was nothing soft about Burnside's physique; her body was hardened and seemed to exert a powerful erotic energy. For the first time, Wendy suddenly felt an odd attraction for the professor, the first glimmering of sexual desire. She wished that she could stay at the door and watch her mentor perform her entire workout routine. She pushed that thought aside and headed for the kitchen. At breakfast Burnside questioned her servant at length about her coursework and the studying she had done the previous night. Once breakfast was finished Wendy knelt in front of the professor and handed her two assignments she had worked on. She nervously watched as the professor looked over the assignments. Burnside handed one of them back to her, with the brusque comment, "this won't work, re-do it." "What's wrong with it, Dr. Burnside?" "I'm not going to tell you how to do your work, Wendy. I want you to start putting some effort into your classes and you need to find the answers yourself. That's one of your problems. You want everyone to feel sorry for you and hand you everything. That shit won't work with me. I will tell you what you did here is inadequate. If you don't believe me, try turning it in as is. But then, if I'm right and your professor gives you a poor grade, there will be hell to pay." As she cleaned up from breakfast, Wendy's mind was occupied with the immediate problem of how to correct her deficient assignment. Later in the morning she would have a couple of hours to work on it. Wendy dug through her books, eliminating possibilities of what might be wrong. Finally she figured it out. She felt oddly proud of herself as she made the corrections and printed the revised assignment. As the day dragged on, Wendy's mind was kept occupied by the household chores, her coursework, and her exercising. There was no time for Wendy to contemplate gambling, how much she hated herself, or her desire to cut her throat. Burnside spent the entire morning preparing lesson plans and sending e-mails to counterparts in Europe. Because Burnside was on her computer in the living room, Wendy had to wash the dishes by hand, instead of using the dishwasher like she normally would. After cleaning up and correcting her assignment, Wendy prepared lunch while Burnside got dressed in one of her teaching outfits. When the professor went out in the afternoon Wendy vacuumed the house. Burnside had told her that she hated the vacuum-cleaner noise and that Wendy could only use the vacuum cleaner when she was out. After vacuuming Wendy had enough spare time to draw a picture. When Burnside came back she parked in the garage. Without saying anything she walked to her bedroom and came back with a pair of shower shoes. She dropped them at Wendy's feet. "Put these on and get the bags out of the car. Put the food away and get started on cooking the chicken dish on page 34 of the green recipe book. Have dinner ready at 5:30." With that Burnside went back to her computer. Wendy shivered as she went out in the cold garage to retrieve the groceries. She felt very strange taking things out of a car wearing nothing but shower shoes and a leather collar. After cooking, exercising, eating, and cleaning up from dinner Wendy took her bath. She knelt for Burnside to put her collar back on. However, Burnside ordered Wendy to stand up and to go back out into the living room without her collar on. She ordered Wendy to put her hands behind her head and spread her feet. She reached out and ran her finger tips over Wendy's breasts. She massaged and pinched Wendy's nipples until they were hard. She ran her hand up and down Wendy's chest and stomach. Wendy gasped. She was terrified. Oh God, she thought, sex with Burnside. She warned me. I accepted this. Burnside noticed the look in Wendy's face. "You understand this was part of our agreement." "Y...Yes...Dr. Burnside." "I know this will be hard on you. Do your best." Burnside's hands moved to Wendy's bottom. She stood in front of her servant and kissed her on the mouth. "You're going to have to relax your mouth. Don't make me tell you again." As best she could, Wendy relaxed her mouth. Burnside pressed her tongue past Wendy's teeth. She paused. "Wendy, put your arms down. Keep them at your sides." Burnside took Wendy's head in her hands and kissed her hard. Then she kissed Wendy's throat and the back of her neck. She moved behind her servant and took her breasts in her hands. Wendy shook slightly as she felt Burnside's hands squeezing her nipples and the professor's mouth on the back of her neck. Burnside was becoming more aroused. She moved in front of Wendy and grabbed her bottom hard. Once again she pressed her mouth into her servant's mouth. Her tongue moved around Wendy's. Suddenly Burnside turned her attention to the girl's breasts. She sucked Wendy's nipples so hard they hurt. Burnside moved her face down Wendy's body. She knelt and kissed the insides of Wendy's thighs. Wendy, in spite of her terror, started to feel hints of arousal herself. Suddenly Burnside stood up. "Undress me." Wendy's shaking hands fumbled with the buttons of Burnside's jacket and she pulled it off. She knew better than to throw it on the floor. Holding the jacket, she knelt and looked at her mistress. "Dr. Burnside...I request permission to speak" "Wendy, lay my jacket and skirt on the back of that chair. Put my other things there as well. You can deal with them when we're done." Wendy stood up and carefully laid the jacket on the chair. Next was Burnside's matching skirt. Wendy unzipped the back of Burnside's blouse and added it to the clothing on the chair. She carefully pushed Burnside's panty hose to her ankles. Burnside lifted her feet and her servant slid them off. Wendy's hands shook more violently when she fumbled with the hooks on Burnside's bra. Wendy glanced for a second at Burnside's breasts as the bra opened in the front. They were not the breasts of a young woman, but her mistress was way too critical of herself. They still looked all right. One more item to go. Burnside wore standard black panties. There was nothing unusual about them. Wendy pushed the panties over the professor's bottom and slid them to her ankles. Again Burnside stepped up. Burnside grabbed Wendy's wrist. She put her free hand on Wendy's back and pressed her body against her own. Burnside buried her mouth into Wendy's neck, kissing hard. She could feel Wendy's heart pounding furiously. That excited her even more. Still holding Wendy by the wrist, Burnside led the trembling girl to the master bedroom. She pushed her onto her back on the bed and lay down on top of her. She grabbed Wendy's wrists and held them above her head. For a long time she kept her mouth buried in Wendy's. She pressed her pelvis against Wendy's. Suddenly Burnside lifted herself up a bit to look her servant in the eyes. "Wendy, have you ever been with another woman?" "N...No...Dr. Burnside...I...haven't." "Do you have any idea what you need to do?" "N...No...Dr. Burnside." "Alright. I'll show you." Burnside buried her face between Wendy's legs. She knew exactly what to do to make Wendy climax. Wendy, in spite of her terror, experienced her first orgasm as Burnside's servant within five minutes. Burnside jumped up and went to the bathroom to wash her face. She returned and lay on the bed next to Wendy. "OK, now you know what to do. I don't expect you to be perfect this first time. I do expect you to do your best." Wendy buried her face between Burnside's legs. For her first time she did not do badly. Burnside climaxed within a few minutes. "Wendy, you did good. Now wash your face and kneel on the floor when you come out." Burnside had decided to force Wendy to undergo another sexual experience tonight. She pulled out leather cuffs for Wendy's wrists and ankles, as well as a black scarf to blindfold her with, and her usual collar for her neck. Wendy looked nervously at Burnside when she saw what was in her hands. As instructed, Wendy knelt. Burnside put the collar and blindfold on first, then Wendy's wrist cuffs. She joined the cuffs behind the girl's back. Burnside then took Wendy's arm and helped her to her feet. She put the cuffs on her servant's ankles. She grabbed four clips from her dresser and led Wendy back to the guest bedroom. The previous night Wendy had wondered about the rings on her bedposts. Tonight was the first night out of many that her ankles and wrists would be attached to them. Burnside unhooked Wendy's wrist cuffs and ordered Wendy onto her bed on her back. She attached Wendy's wrists to the bedposts. She did the same thing with Wendy's ankles. Wendy was now spread and completely helpless. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 21 Burnside spent the next hour sexually tormenting her servant. She traced Wendy's body with her finger tips and with her kisses, concentrating on the sensitive area between her legs. She kept Wendy close to orgasm, but did not allow her to have one. Wendy gasped and groaned. She pulled hard against her restraints. Wendy was being tortured as much as if she were being whipped. Finally, Burnside showed Wendy mercy and let her climax. Wendy's voice cracked with desperation as her orgasm came. As soon as she finished Burnside unhooked Wendy's cuffs and took them off. She took off Wendy's blindfold. Burnside took Wendy's hand and looked at her. Wendy was beyond exhausted. She barely could move. She was stunned by this experience. She was shocked by the control that Burnside had exercised over her. Burnside had wanted another round of sex, but realized that Wendy was not capable of anything right now. Better let her sleep. Tomorrow was another day. "OK, Wendy. I want you up at 6:00, my breakfast at 7:00. Good night." ---------- The following evening Wendy met the first out of Burnside's many lovers. For the first time Burnside gave her an option of turning down a request. "I am going to have a guest over tonight and I am giving you a choice of how you want to handle it. You can either go into your room and study, or you can help me with him for a little bit, and then study or have the option of working on your art. That's completely your choice. Since this has nothing to do with improving your situation I am leaving it up to you to decide how you'd like to spend the evening." Wendy's heart jumped into her throat. She was desperately curious to see what exactly Burnside did with her lovers. As a result, her choice was immediate. "I'll do whatever you want, Dr. Burnside." The evening began with Wendy shaving her pubic hair and getting cleaned up. She then exchanged her leather collar for a steel collar and steel cuffs for her ankles and wrists. Burnside, meanwhile, changed into the leather outfit that looked like a black swimsuit from the front but was cut very high in the back. For the second time that day, Wendy admired Burnside's shapely bottom and trim, muscular thighs. Burnside put on black stockings that came to her mid-thighs and black gloves. The set-up was relatively simple. The professor took a comfortable armchair and placed it squarely in the center of the living room. She then pointed to a small spotlight mounted on the ceiling that was pointed at the area on the floor immediately in front of the chair. Wendy would dim the living room lights and activate the spotlight on cue. Burnside placed a small end-table on one side of her chair and a small bench on the other side. She placed two implements, a leather paddle and a leather switch, on the end-table. She set a small old-fashioned alarm clock and placed it on the table. Wendy half-filled two small wine glasses. The amount of wine in each glass was very small. Wendy realized that its purpose probably was more symbolic than anything else. On cue, Wendy would bring the tray to Burnside. Burnside's guest was a very nervous-looking young man in his mid-20's. Wendy opened the door for him, as Burnside sat in her armchair facing the door. She held up the alarm clock. "You're late, Richard. I don't appreciate that." "I...I'm sorry about that, Dr. Burnside. I got stuck at a couple of lights." Wendy smiled to herself. She knew full-well that "sorry" was the worst thing Richard could say to Ruth Burnside. "Don't tell me you're sorry. If you were sorry you wouldn't have done it. You would have planned your trip better. Instead you come to me with some lame excuse about the lights. You need a reality check. This is Chicago. Traffic is something you plan for." Richard looked at the floor. "Yes, Dr. Burnside." "Look up! What the hell do you think you're doing looking at the floor like that? Take some pride in yourself! Show me some backbone! You look me in the eye!" Reluctantly Richard looked up. "Now. You get your clothes off. Fold everything neatly and hand it to Ms. Li. Once you're done, you will kneel and thank her for taking your clothes." Richard stripped, folding each piece of clothing with shaking hands. Wendy placed her hands out in front of her as she collected Richard's items. Once he was completely undressed, Richard knelt in front of Wendy and thanked her for taking his clothing. As she had been previously instructed, Wendy simply turned away and dumped Richard's clothes into a trash can. The trash can was clean, but the symbolism of Wendy's action reminded Richard of his submission to Ruth Burnside. "Now, Richard, come over here. Stand in front of me. Keep your hands at your sides." Richard complied. Wendy dimmed the living room lights and turned up the spotlight. Burnside picked up the switch and tapped the palm of her hand with it. "Now, Ms. Li, stand behind my chair and take a good look at our guest." Wendy complied. She felt a real thrill seeing Richard standing naked and humiliated under the white glare of the spot light. He had a fairly attractive body and Wendy enjoyed looking at him. At the same time, she realized how tightly Burnside had choreographed the entire session. She knew the significance of every action, how to manipulate and control his emotions. "This must be very embarrassing for you, Richard. To have to stand in front of two women...not wearing anything...and to have to just stand there, fully exposed, until I give you permission to move. I'd be totally humiliated if I were in your situation." "Yes, Dr. Burnside...It's sort of embarrassing." "Sort of? Well, we'll have to do better than sort of. Kneel" Richard knelt. "Now lean forward and kiss the carpet at my feet. Keep your lips to the carpet until I tell you to get up." Richard complied. He was on his knees and elbows with his lips touching the carpet. His bottom was in the air and completely exposed. Burnside got up, walked behind him, and tapped his bottom with the switch. She signaled her servant to come around as well. Wendy stood next to Burnside, nervously looking at the switch in Burnside's hand and Richard's waiting bottom. "How many minutes were you late, Richard?" "Uh...seven." "That's bullshit. You're just guessing. You don't really know, do you?" "No, Dr. Burnside. I don't really know." "So you were lying to me, weren't you? Telling me something that you really didn't know?" "Yes, Dr. Burnside." "Well, then, I'll tell you how late you were. You were five minutes late. That's five strokes of the switch. But since you said seven, let's add another seven to that, plus another one for the lie. How many strokes is that, Richard?" "Thirteen, Dr. Burnside." "Excellent. Thirteen it shall be." With that, Burnside struck Richard's upturned bottom viciously with the switch, waiting between strokes to let Richard feel each one and appreciate it. Richard jerked and gasped, but he managed to maintain silence throughout the entire ordeal. "Now, stand up." Richard stood up, wincing slightly from the pain coming from his bottom. Burnside resumed her position in the chair and Wendy resumed her position behind Burnside. "Look Ms. Li in the eye. Explain to her why you were late. Take some responsibility for your actions, for a change." "Ms. Li, I was late because I was irresponsible. I didn't plan my trip properly and...and I didn't plan for the traffic." Wendy nodded slightly. Burnside tapped the floor with her switch. "Kneel" Richard went back on his knees. "Stick out your hands." Richard stuck his hands out and Burnside wrapped them with a pair of leather cuffs. She then clipped the cuffs behind the submissive's back. "Ms. Li, please bring us the tray." Wendy brought the tray with the wine glasses. She allowed Burnside to take one, and then took the other in her hand. "Richard, last week you told me a bunch of stuff about your life that you are having issues with. My answer is that we will drink some wine together. That will mark the agreement between us. If you drink my wine, you accept my discipline. The wine may be smooth, but its aftertaste will be very bitter. Do you agree to drink my wine?" "Yes." "Ms. Li...would you please present Richard his wine?" Wendy pressed the wineglass in her hand to Richard's lips. He drank, and in doing so committed himself to a night of punishment and submissive sex. "Ms. Li, please take our glasses and the tray. And with that I will say thank you and goodnight." Wendy was dismissed. She took the tray to the kitchen, quickly washed out the wine glasses and hung them up in the kitchen's wine glass holder. Then she slipped back through the living room, taking a quick glance at Burnside and her guest. He was standing, his legs spread slightly, with his hands chained to eyehooks in the ceiling. Burnside was quietly talking to him, as she held the leather paddle in her hand. She was massaging his penis with the other hand. He was blindfolded. Wendy's role in the entire affair was finished for the evening. She returned to her room and shut her door. Once her door was shut, Wendy heard a loud CRACK...CRACK...CRACK that seemed to continue for a very long time. She thought she could make out Richard crying. Then there was relative silence for a while, and then faint groans. Wendy looked back out into the living room to notice that Burnside and Richard were no longer there; they must have gone into the professor's bedroom. From that room Wendy heard an occasional CRACK, and then more groaning. Wendy closed her eyes and pondered the entire strange scene she had just participated in. What to make of it? Her emotions were in turmoil, from the sight of Burnside's trim, sweaty body in the morning, from the sight of the professor in her scanty black outfit, from the sight of Burnside sitting in her chair looking at Richard with a confident expression as she sipped her wine glass. What excited Wendy the most, however, was how Ruth Burnside always seemed to control her surroundings. It was the control that Wendy found most appealing. Upon entering Burnside's house, Richard did exactly what Burnside wanted, as she drew him though a graceful choreography towards submission and pain. Wendy also knew that following the pain, Burnside would lead Richard into a world of erotic pleasure and release that few men ever experience. The cost of submission to Ruth Burnside was enormous, but the payback of pleasure also was enormous. An overwhelming surge of sexual desire swept through Wendy. She was incredibly wet and felt that she would go crazy if she did not relieve herself. However, just as Wendy started to run her hands over her body, she realized that she could use her sexual energy for something far more useful. She set up her art supplies and drew several intensely erotic pictures over the next five hours. When exhaustion finally forced her to stop, Wendy set the pictures on her desk to look at them. She marveled at the best set of pictures she had ever drawn. All of the pictures she had drawn previously were mostly a product of fantasy and imagination. The latest batch was drawn based on real life. There was an extreme element of pleasure and eroticism in the drawings. The pictures were among the first out of many she would produce over the next several months. ---------- Wendy's first punishment came the following Saturday. Her offense was completely inadvertent, but at the same time fairly serious. In fact, it was something that, under different circumstances, could have landed her into serious legal problems. Wendy served lunch to Burnside as usual, and seated her, as usual. The routine changed however, when the professor did not invite her servant to serve herself and sit at the dining room table. Instead, Burnside ordered Wendy to fetch her book "Wendy" and kneel with it in front of the living room sofa. Wendy knelt, totally perplexed and hungry from missing lunch, while Burnside quietly finished eating. Finally the professor stood up, and sat down on the sofa in front of the trembling student. "Wendy, I need to discuss something in your book with you. Open the book to page 15 and tell me who you drew in that picture." Wendy complied, and realized with mounting concern that the picture was one that showed her being punished by Ruth Burnside. "Who is in this picture? Who did you draw?" "You, Dr. Burnside." "That's what I thought. Now please turn to page 23, and page 37, and tell me who is in each of those pictures." "Y...you, Dr. Burnside." "Wendy, I told you to turn to those pages. Now do it, and tell me again who those drawings portray." Wendy complied. She knew that Burnside was about to make an issue out of the use of her likeness in some of her drawings. She began to get scared. Once she had turned to the pages in question she repeated, "T...the pictures are of you, Dr. Burnside." "Wendy, do you consider me a public figure? Like a famous politician, or a movie star?" "No, Dr. Burnside." "Then you needed to get my permission to use my likeness in your collection of drawings. Your photographer friend should know that, and I believe I could sue both her and the publisher if I chose to do so. Instead, I drafted a letter that permits you to portray me in your art, and for your publisher to use my likeness for your project. I back-dated it. Please read it before I send it off." Wendy, still kneeling, read the permission and looked up at Burnside. "Thank you, Dr. Burnside." "You have no reason to thank me. I don't appreciate the fact that you disrespected me enough to not ask my permission to portray me in your art. However, I won't take any action against you legally. Instead, you will pay me back with a switching. Go to your room, sit on your bed, and wait for me." There would be times that Burnside would make Wendy wait for her punishments, sometimes as much as a day or more. Today was not one of those days. Wendy sat down on her bed, immobilized with fear, for only a minute or so before Burnside showed up with the leather cuffs and hooks from the bondage sessions, as well as a hard pillow shaped like a cylinder. She put the pillow on the bed and ordered Wendy to lie over it on her stomach. The pillow was barely wider than Wendy's hips, so in no way would the edges cover Wendy's sides. Wendy's bottom now was high in the air and fully exposed. Burnside put the cuffs on Wendy's wrists and ankles and hooked them to the bedposts, forcing the younger women to spread her arms and legs wide. Burnside then sat on the bed next to Wendy and placed her hand on her servant's bottom. She caressed Wendy's bottom and studied it. This would be the last time for a week that Wendy's bottom would not have marks on it. The girl was shaking with fear, but was perfectly quiet. Burnside got up and returned with a leather switch, the same one she had used on Amy and Wendy over a year before. Even though the implement was the same, this punishment would be very different than the Halloween switching last year. To begin with, it would be much longer, well over an hour. There would be breaks so that Wendy could feel the full effect of her punishment. Burnside planned to concentrate the strokes on Wendy's bottom, but also planned to punish the backs of her thighs and shoulders. Burnside, always careful about safety, never struck a person on the lower back. There would be far more blows from this punishment. Burnside planned to lay stripe after stripe on Wendy's bottom and thighs, placing them as close together as possible without crossing or overlapping them. At the same time Burnside would maintain her self-control. Wendy was under her care now. She would be punished carefully and methodically, with no risk of broken skin or blood. Burnside felt much more responsibility for Wendy than she did a year ago, which tempered her arousal at seeing the naked girl stretched over her bed. Burnside stepped back and touched the switch to Wendy's right bottom-cheek. Wendy heard the whoosh of the switch and felt it make contact. Instantly the pain radiated from the stroke. It hurt every bit as much as it did the year before. Wendy's voice broke as she gasped. She tried to pull up, but the only thing she could move was her head. Burnside struck again. Again Wendy's voice broke with a gasp. She sobbed. The pain was horrible. How could she endure this session? She knew that it would be much longer than the Halloween switching, many more strokes. She tugged again at her cuffs. They gave her the answer. She would endure, because she had no choice. Burnside struck again. Tears ran down Wendy's cheeks. She started to cry. Wendy was crying loudly by the end of the first ten strokes. Her body shook with sobs. She was not screaming like she did a year ago. Not yet. Burnside moved to Wendy's left side. Ten strokes from the right, ten matching ones from the left. Burnside lay the strokes very close together, covering only the upper part of Wendy's bottom. The more sensitive lower part of Wendy's bottom cheeks and upper thighs would be for the next round of strokes. Wendy was sobbing continuously at the end of the first 20 strokes. Burnside waited for the sobs to die down and for Wendy to get her breath back. The next series would be even worse, 20 hard strokes to the lower part of Wendy's bottom and upper thighs, 10 from each side. Without saying anything. Burnside tapped the switch to the base of her servant's bottom. With the first stroke Wendy started sobbing again. Burnside went slowly, waiting 30 seconds between each blow. Burnside struck again and again, carefully aiming at the unmarked areas of Wendy's bottom. The girl started shrieking as Burnside struck the tender skin on the lower part of her buttocks. Wendy screamed for the first time when Burnside struck her thighs, just below her bottom. Burnside changed sides. Wendy was sobbing loudly, her body shaking. Burnside measured distance again, and began the second set of blows from the girl's left side. Wendy started screaming so loudly that she made Burnside wince slightly. The professor's eyes reflected her excitement, but this time she managed to control herself. Burnside's hands shook, but she forced herself to continue laying on the stripes carefully, to avoid breaking Wendy's skin. When Burnside finished the second set, the student had taken 40 hard strokes on her bottom and upper thighs. Wendy's bottom and upper thighs were completely covered with thin reddish stripes. She was shaking violently from her sobs. As traumatic as the punishment from the year before may have been for Wendy, in terms of severity it was nothing like this. Burnside only hit Wendy 15 times before the Halloween party. This afternoon Wendy already had 40 welts on her body, and Burnside was not finished with her. Burnside paused again to let her servant get her breath back and to feel this latest set of welts before beginning with the next set. Like Amy before her in the Spring, Burnside noticed Wendy's beautiful thin shoulders. Wendy's shoulders now were Burnside's next target. Burnside laid her switch on Wendy's shoulder. Wendy, realizing what was about to happen, started screaming in panic. Burnside raised her switch and struck Wendy hard. Wendy's screaming changed slightly, from fear to pain. Slowly Burnside laid 20 blows, this time more irregular ones, across Wendy's shoulders. Wendy's entire world had become one of intense pain. The welts in her bottom were burning more and more. There was nothing she could do about it; her hands were immobilized by the cuffs. Now Burnside was striking her shoulders, cruelly adding to the agony from her bottom. At that moment Wendy was in too much pain to think about anything, but later she would reflect this punishment was what she had envisioned in many of her drawings. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 21 Burnside stopped again, and sat down on the bed close to her servant's face. Wendy's face was distorted by crying and the agony she was enduring. Her cheeks were wet from tears. Burnside waited for Wendy's sobs to die down. She placed her hand on the girl's upper arm and looked into her eyes. "OK, Wendy, final set of strokes, on your legs. This time it will just be 10." Slowly Burnside laid the final set of strokes on Wendy's thighs, five on each thigh. Wendy screamed again, although this time more weakly. Burnside realized that she was right about cutting the final set from 20 to 10. The girl clearly was worn out. Wendy continued to sob for a long time. The increasing pain in her shoulders and legs began to match the pain from her bottom. Burnside gently ran her fingers over the welts. Wendy would have these for quite a while, especially the ones on her bottom. Finally Burnside unhooked her servant's cuffs and took them off her wrists and ankles. Wendy buried her face in her hands. Her sobs became irregular and she started to hiccup. Burnside pulled the pillow out from under Wendy and left the room. Unlike the Halloween party punishment, today there was time for her to recuperate. After she put the switch, pillow, and cuffs away, Burnside re-heated her servant's portion of lunch and poured her some juice. She took the food to Wendy, who still was lying face down on her bed crying quietly. Burnside set the food on her servant's desk. "Wendy, try to eat as much of this as you can. You can take the next three hours to recover and rest. I have a guest coming over so I will need you to help me with dinner and serving, but that won't be until tonight" Wendy continued crying and made no sign of moving. Burnside put a hand on her arm. "Wendy, you have to eat, no matter what. You have to keep your strength up. Then you can sleep." "Yes, Dr. Burnside." With that Wendy struggled off the bed to force herself to eat. Wendy managed to eat most of her lunch. Then she lay back down on her stomach and cried until she fell asleep. Four hours later Burnside touched her servant's arm to get her up. She had decided to give Wendy an extra hour of sleep. Wendy still was in considerable pain. Her welts had risen and darkened. She moved stiffly as Burnside ordered her to vacuum and clean the bathrooms. Burnside concentrated on finishing dinner for her guest while Wendy cleaned up the house. ---------- Dr. Jim Halsey was Burnside's co-worker, best friend, and lover. He had been Burnside's mentor in graduate school 20 years ago. Although he was 15 years older than Burnside, they shared many things in their lives. Like Burnside, Halsey had gone by his last name for so long that no one even remembered what his first name was. He was the only person who Burnside shared certain things about herself. Although Burnside always had numerous lovers, Halsey had been a stable presence in her life. He was the closest thing to a boyfriend since Burnside had been in high school. Halsey and Burnside shared their love of fetish. Halsey was a switch. Sometimes he wanted Burnside to punish him, and sometimes he wanted to punish her. Burnside loved submitting to him. In her life Halsey was the only person who Burnside ever allowed to punish her. He was the person who always spanked Burnside at her Mardi Gras parties. It would never occur to anyone else in Burnside's life to try that with her. Halsey, who in his suit looked so sophisticated in class, loved his leather as much as Burnside loved hers. On the days he topped with Burnside he wore different outfits than when he bottomed. Burnside and Halsey had experimented with almost everything that did not result in permanent scarring or injury. They had endured so much together during their sexual adventures that they trusted each other like neither could trust anyone else. In spite of the long term nature of their relationship, Burnside and Halsey could never get married. They both were too self-centered and set in their ways to be able to compromise as needed for a marriage. Each had other lovers. The fact that they did not see each other every day kept their relationship fresh. ---------- Burnside dressed in one of her teaching outfits for dinner. She laid out her formal dinner sets for two people on the dining room table. Wendy was surprised by how elaborate the dinner was when she entered the kitchen. Just before her lover was about to come over Burnside ordered Wendy to shave her pubic hair and clean up. When Wendy was done Burnside replaced Wendy's leather collar with the metal one, with the matching metal cuffs for her wrists and ankles. Burnside explained to Wendy the order in which the dishes would be served. During dinner, while not actually serving, Wendy would stand outside the kitchen door waiting at parade rest until either Burnside or Halsey needed something. She would bring it, then resume her position at the door. Once dinner was over, she would serve drinks in the living room. After drinks, Wendy would clean up the kitchen and put everything away. There would be food left over and Burnside told Wendy that she was to fix herself dinner and eat before going to bed. Once clean-up was taken care of Wendy could go back to her room. She would be allowed to close her door tonight. Burnside had one more thing to tell Wendy. "I don't think Dr. Halsey will have anything to talk to you about. However, if he does address you or asks you a question, you will kneel in front of him and answer. You will look him in the eye. The same goes for me tonight. If I ask you something that requires you to speak, you will kneel before you answer." "Yes, Dr. Burnside." "You will address him as Dr. Halsey. You will not call him 'sir' or 'master' or any bullshit like that. You probably know that already, but I just wanted to remind you." "Yes, Dr. Burnside." When Halsey came over Wendy took his coat and hat and hung them up in the hallway closet. He scanned his eyes over her body with a combination of curiosity and sexual interest. Whenever Wendy turned her back to Halsey her welts drew his attention. Halsey was dressed the same way he would dress for class, in a dark business suit and tie. Burnside took his hands in hers and kissed him, then they sat down. Wendy served the elaborate dinner. When not serving or preparing the plates, Wendy took her position at the kitchen door. She listened to Burnside and Halsey gossip about mutual friends, their respective lovers, and co-workers. Every time Wendy moved in front of Halsey, she noticed his eyes scanning her body. Burnside and Halsey moved to the living room for drinks after dinner. As Wendy served him a glass of wine, it suddenly dawned on Halsey that he recognized her. "Young lady, now I remember you. You were at Ruth's Mardi Gras party, with that girl in the nurse's outfit." Wendy faced Halsey and went to her knees. "Yes Dr. Halsey, that was me. I was with my friend Amy." Suddenly the memory of that party pained Wendy. Her life seemed so carefree at the time, prior to her final gambling binges. Halsey then asked Wendy a few questions about her life, and finally how she ended up in Burnside's house. Wendy was not happy about having to share her personal problems with a stranger. However, Burnside did not stop Halsey's questions and Wendy wondered why. It was obvious that Halsey's role in Burnside's life was very different from that of her other lovers and that she trusted him. Wendy also guessed, correctly, that Burnside wanted her to respond because she wanted Wendy to be able to describe her problems and express herself clearly. Finally, she answered. "Dr. Halsey, I have a serious problem with gambling. I lost over $ 60,000 dollars last Spring. I felt so bad about it that I wanted to kill myself. The whole thing alienated me from my parents. Finally I asked Dr. Burnside to help me." "Wendy's a talented artist," interjected Burnside. "She put a book out with her drawings over the summer. Wendy, get your book for Dr. Halsey please." Wendy got up and pulled the copy of her book she had given to Burnside off the shelf where Burnside kept it. She handed the book to Halsey and returned to her kneeling position on the floor. Halsey thumbed through the book after Wendy handed it to him. "Yes. I bought this last month. Now I make the connection. I thought I recognized you when I saw the photos." "Yes, Dr. Halsey." Halsey paused, then continued. "I want to congratulate you on your work. I never really liked those Japanese-style cartoons until I saw the ones you did. You have a true talent and I hope you're able to develop it. In other words, don't be so down on yourself. You've got something real to contribute to the world." ---------- After Halsey and Burnside went to the master bedroom, Wendy ate what was left over from the dinner and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Suddenly she heard loud classical music coming from Burnside's bedroom. Then, over the music, she heard a distinct CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!... Wendy wondered who was getting it. She turned on the dishwasher and wiped up the counters. She turned her attention to the floor, which she decided to mop. By the time she was finished with the floor, the dishwasher was done. Wendy put everything away and went to her room. The classical music was still playing, and now Wendy thought she could hear both Burnside and Halsey groaning. Oh well, she thought, none of my business what they're doing. However, as Wendy entered her room she saw her art supplies. She laid out what she would need to make some color drawings and sat down. Her body protested in pain, but the pain fired her imagination, along with the classical music coming from Burnside's room. For the next six hours Wendy drew. Now Wendy was drawing from personal experience and memories, not imagination and fantasy. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 22 Chapter 22 - New Year's Eve Robert had to work starting on the 27th. A potentially huge case landed into his firm, a liability suit resulting from the collapse of some decorations at a discount store onto several customers shopping under them. A couple of children were seriously injured in the accident. The store quickly offered compensation to the families, but a consumer protection group decided to sue to force the store to comply with numerous safety rules. The families agreed, and the whole thing was headed for trial. Faced with the array of corporate talent they would have to confront in the courtroom, Robert and his two partners had to prepare their case to the fullest, along with the attorneys of the consumer protection group. Robert already had his thoughts on the appeals, as well as the upcoming initial trial. Suzanne relaxed at Robert's apartment for three days after Christmas. While Robert huddled with his partners and the consumer protection group lawyers, Suzanne slept and spent time reading. Like Amy before her, she relaxed in the pool during Robert's time-share hours. She had not had the opportunity to swim in the nude or swim by herself for several years. As much as she enjoyed herself after Christmas, after three days Suzanne was refreshed enough to want to head back to her apartment and get started with her next round of photography projects. The most important upcoming job was a shoot for a winter's clothing clearance ad to be posted at the end of January. This was a standard ad shoot, with very little artistic about it. Still, it would give Suzanne the opportunity to photograph Amy and Paul together in a wide variety of winter clothes in the snow. Suzanne entered the apartment with Amy's presents from herself and Robert. When she entered her studio room she noticed the air mattress was gone. Wendy must have gone into that counseling that Amy had mentioned. Suddenly she remembered Robert's doubts and decided to ask Amy. Amy was in her room, looking at Burnside's lesson plans for the Spring. Suzanne knocked, walked in, and sat in the easy chair next to Amy's bed. "Amy, you know Robert and I missed you for Christmas. How come you didn't come over? After Wendy left, I mean?" "I just didn't feel like it. I don't know...I had to be by myself I guess...I'm sorry about not calling, but I was kind of depressed...I spent a lot of time going through your pictures. I tried to put everything back the way you had it, but you'll probably find some of your photos out of place." Amy looked at Suzanne. She could tell that it was not the photos that Suzanne was worried about. Amy continued. "I miss Wendy a lot. I feel bad about what she's going through." "What is she going through, Amy? Robert told me that a program like what you described doesn't exist." "No. She's with Dr. Burnside." "Why?" "She wanted to go there. She'll be at her house all spring semester. I don't know if you can understand this, but I'll try to make sense out of it if I can. After Halloween she approached Burnside and gave her a copy of your book. At that time she wanted Burnside to beat the crap out of her, as she explained it to me. She actually asked her to. At first Burnside refused. They talked for a while and they agreed that Wendy would be her servant over the Spring semester." Suzanne was not livid, as Amy had feared. She just looked very distressed by the news. "How could she do that? Amy, how could you let her? That woman's a psycho!" Amy thought for a moment. She shook her head. How to explain this to Suzanne? "Suzanne, remember how you felt last year the day after Halloween? When you lost your temper at me and asked Robert to punish you because you felt bad about wanting to punish me? Did that make any sense? But you felt better afterwards." Amy picked up a picture of herself and Wendy from her desk and looked at it. Suzanne said nothing. Amy sighed and continued. "Now, imagine living with that same feeling day after day, for a year. Not being able to get rid of it. Wendy was going crazy. She couldn't carry any money with her. She couldn't see her parents. She kept thinking that her great-grandmother's spirit was watching her and had condemned her for what she did in the Spring. She had no social life except for you and me. All she could do was draw. She wasn't getting any better." "I thought she was. I thought because of her pictures..." "That's what I thought too. Uh-uh. Take a look at this." Amy pulled out a picture that Wendy drew just before Halloween. It was different from the Summer pictures, but for Amy much more frightening. It was a self-portrait of Wendy. She had a relaxed, happy look on her face. Her hand was next to her throat. There was an old-fashion straight-edge razor in her hand, the blade just beginning to cut into the side of her neck. Suzanne sat staring at the picture, realizing how wrong she had been about Wendy being less miserable. "I found some others like this, if you want to see them." Amy handed Suzanne the other pictures. There were six altogether, all showing Wendy's face relieved and happy as she was in the act of killing herself. Amy continued. "She wasn't getting any better. She was looking for a release from her suffering. This must have been what she had in mind." Suzanne handed the pictures back to Amy. She did not know what to say. At that moment Amy realized something else that was significant. "You know, I now think it was very lucky that things went the way they did on Halloween. You know that both Wendy and Paul went with me to Burnside's party. Paul wanted to see if he could keep me from getting punished again, and I think he actually succeeded. But now I know why Wendy looked so disappointed when I went back in the kitchen with her Halloween outfit. She wanted Burnside to punish us and was upset when she realized it wasn't going to happen. The idea sat in her head for a couple of weeks after Halloween, and then she took the book over to Burnside. That must have been her last hope. It scares me, but now I think that if I hadn't been busted by Burnside over the grading, Wendy would be dead right now." "Amy, she seemed so happy in December." "Well, it wasn't for the reason you thought. I realized when I saw these pictures that she wants to die. What made her so happy was that she realized that her death doesn't have to be physical. I think she'll have an experience similar to what I had a couple of years ago. She will suffer a lot, and change." "And you knew about this..." "I knew about her plans. I didn't fully understand them until I saw these pictures." "Amy, I still don't understand. I don't get it about you or Wendy." "You never will. You can't. Wendy and I have this self-destructive flaw in our personalities. Robert's wife Tricia had it as well. You don't have it. Count yourself lucky." Amy passed the picture of her and Wendy to Suzanne. For a long time they sat quietly, Amy at her desk, Suzanne in Amy's armchair. Amy thought about Burnside. She felt the need to defend her professor. "You have Burnside wrong. She's not a psycho. In her own way she's actually a very caring person. She gave me two huge breaks that I shouldn't have had. I should have gotten expelled from college last year for the Internet paper. Because of Burnside I'm still here. Then I should have been fired for not grading all the term papers last fall. Instead, all I got was a sore ass. She won't be nice to Wendy in the normal way. I hate to think of everything she must be going through right now. But Burnside cares about Wendy, just like she cares about me. She'll do what she thinks is best for Wendy. Remember something else. Burnside made her wait six weeks before letting her go over to her house. She made Wendy think it over, and Wendy still went. She's there because that's where she wants to be." Suzanne shook her head, but had no further comments. A self-destructive flaw. It obviously was true, but she could not understand the twisted logic Amy was presenting to her. All she could picture was Wendy's lovely body, covered with welts and whip-marks, and the tragedy that was happening to her pretty model and friend. Suzanne realized that perhaps Amy was right, however. Were it not for the suffering happening to Wendy now, maybe she would not be alive at all. ---------- Paul came back from Pennsylvania on the 30th. He had spent Christmas with his family, but would spend New Year's with Amy. Suzanne pounced on him the moment he rang the doorbell with the clothing ad project. Paul dismayed Suzanne by refusing. "Suzanne I don't do ads. I'll pose for you, but I'm not going to pose for a corporation." Suzanne did not understand Paul's refusal. She knew that he needed the money. She also knew that the only way that she could get the look she wanted from Amy was to have Paul there. Amy was not an actress and could not give a stranger the same looks she gave Paul. Amy understood Paul and knew how to get him to pose. When Suzanne wanted to argue with him Amy squeezed her arm to shut her up. She remembered that Julie did not have the money to return to community college in the Spring and how upset Paul had been about that. She remembered all too well because Paul spent a half an hour lecturing Amy about the injustices of a corporate system that did not even let people study. Amy whispered in Suzanne's ear, "I'll get him to do it. Just give me some time." Amy and Paul walked back to the university. It was still brutally cold outside, but they were determined to get some exercise. They went to the gym to workout, then stopped for coffee on the way back. It was nice to just relax. Amy still was depressed over Wendy. She talked to Paul about her friend, but had to give him a censored version of events to protect her privacy. Still, it was enough for Paul to know that Wendy was at Burnside's place for him to know what was happening to her. Amy talked about the self-destructive flaw in herself and Wendy, and how their personalities contrasted with Suzanne's. Paul sighed. "Julie's the same way. She was able to raise her hopes when she started going back to classes. You can't imagine how depressed she is, now that she can't continue. She's worse than ever." That gave Amy the opening she needed to change Paul's mind about posing for Suzanne. "You know, for once you do have the chance to help Julie. You could help her, if you really wanted to." "What do you mean?" "Suzanne's offering you a nice opportunity with the clothing shoot. A lot of people would be very grateful to have the chance she's giving you. Maybe you don't have to take that money for yourself. But I think you should try to help Julie." Paul struggled with the problem, although he realized the issue was settled. Whatever he felt about advertising, he did not have the right to deny his sister. She was horribly depressed and Paul was worried about her. Furthermore, he realized that Amy would think much less of him were he to pass up this opportunity to help. Amy was thinking about Suzanne, but she also was thinking about Julie. Paul sighed and agreed to pose. "Oh well, so much for my thoughts on everything. I guess they own my soul just like everyone else's." Amy decided to make sure Paul could not back out, and to make sure Julie got into her classes. "I'll give you a cash advance for you to get Julie enrolled. You can pay me back after we pose." ---------- On the 31st Suzanne went back to Robert's apartment for New Year's Eve. They planned to have dinner and stay downtown for the New Year's celebrations, taking advantage of Robert's parking space at his office. After the celebration, they would return to his office and stay there until the crowds thinned out, thus avoiding the traffic jams leaving central Chicago. Amy wanted to spend the night alone with Paul. She was in a very strange mood. She badly wanted Paul. She desperately wanted sex, but was depressed at the same time. They took a bottle of champagne that Suzanne had bought for them and with some cheese, fruit, and crackers they waited for the new year. Paul had suggested going to a party with his roommate, but Amy wanted to be alone with him. About 10:00 p.m. Amy told Paul to stay seated in the living room and turned on the classical tune Bolero from one of Suzanne's CD's. She ran into her room and stripped. Naked, she came back out and danced, Paul staring at her with astonishment. She danced with passion and force, throwing her legs out and moving her body with the music. She closed her eyes and became one with Bolero. For a few minutes she even forgot about Paul, content to let the music take over and decide her movements. She put force and emotion into her dancing and started to sweat and breathe hard from her efforts. She had not allowed music to take her over like this since she had gone to her last rave, two and a half years ago. This was totally different from a rave. She had started dancing for Paul, but now was dancing for herself. Suzanne's Bolero CD was the long version, but finally the tune ended and the spell was broken. Amy hugged Paul and kissed him with passion. He struggled to get his clothes off. He was totally aroused. Never had he seen a performance like that, and the girl performing was his own Amy. Paul was hard from his excitement. Amy grabbed his erection and gently squeezed it. She knelt and took Paul's penis in her mouth, moving her tongue around the tip. She lightly kissed each of Paul's testicles and then stood up to kiss his neck. Paul then moved his face to Amy's breasts and kissed each of Amy's nipples to make them even harder than they were already. He moved down her stomach to kiss the area above her pubis. He kissed her inner thighs and gently ran his tongue up her labia. Both Amy and Paul were so aroused they could barely stand it. Amy dropped to the floor and pulled Paul on top of her. Amy squeaked with her high-pitched voice of passion and desire. She was totally wet. Paul entered her and thrust hard, the image of Amy dancing flashing through his mind. He would remember Amy's New Year's dance for a long time. Paul finished quickly, but he stayed in Amy as long as he could, thinking of her pleasure as he always did when they had sex. Amy had one of the best orgasms of her life that night, one that left her trembling and dizzy. There was just enough time to clean up before midnight when Amy and Paul finished making love. Neither felt like getting dressed, nor turning on the TV. They opened the champagne, turned off the light, and opened the curtains. They sat together in the dark as they watched the clock flash to 12:00 and silently drank their champagne. They looked out the window at some fireworks way off in the distance. For a long time they sat quietly. Paul was as content as a person could be, but Amy's melancholy was returning. She could not stop thinking about Wendy. Suddenly she had a huge desire to suffer and cry. She sat for a long time, wondering how to get this awful feeling out of her system. Finally she broke the silence. "Paul, I need you to do something for me. I'm going to lie across your lap. I want you to spank me hard, as long as you can. I want this to hurt, and I want to cry. I want to cry for a long time. I don't want you to get aroused, because right now that's not what I'm after. I don't want sex." Paul, who had been sitting blissfully with Amy in his arms, was shocked by her request and by the sudden change in her mood. She was dead serious. She was asking a lot from him, because he had never spanked her for punishment and had never wanted to. Reluctantly he responded. "Sure, Amy, if that's what you want, I can try..." "Paul, this is something I need. I don't know why. But I need to cry. No matter how much I cry, I need you to keep spanking me. I'll tell you when to stop. Can you do that for me?" "I can try. That's all I can promise." Amy kissed Paul and lay across his lap. The room was dark, but there was just enough light that Paul could see Amy's figure as dark gray. He would not be able to see Amy's bottom change color. Amy adjusted her position and spread her legs slightly to open herself up slightly more for her requested punishment. She grabbed a sofa pillow and moved it under her face. Paul rested his hand on her bottom. Amy was grateful that the darkness of the room isolated her. She had thought about having Paul blindfold her, but the darkness in the room was enough. "Paul, I'm ready." Reluctantly Paul brought his hand up and landed a sharp SLAP! on Amy's right bottom cheek. He waited about 5 seconds, and landed another sharp SLAP! on Amy's left bottom cheek. With that Paul established his pattern, a sharp slap on alternate bottom cheeks about every 5-10 seconds. The loud slaps reverberated through the living room. For a long time there seemed to be no reaction out of Amy. Her normal arousal from being spanked was totally missing. Paul was spanking harder than he normally spanked Amy, but seemingly without results. Amy closed her eyes and bit her lip against the increasing pain in her bottom. She was not enjoying this, nor did she want to. But she felt the need of an emotional release that only the experience of a good cry could give her. She desperately wanted to cry. She started to become frustrated that she couldn't. She started to wonder if Paul would need to use a belt or Suzanne's paddle. Paul continued spanking, as Amy had directed. He hated doing this to her, but would continue until she ordered him to stop. Finally he heard a high pitched sob from her. Amy's body started to shake with sobs. The loud slaps continued, as Amy's sobs also started to fill the room. As the pain increased in her bottom, Amy at last found the release she was looking for. All of the tension, stress, and sadness that had built up in her since Spring Break came out; the problems with Wendy, the troubles she had with Burnside, her on-going feelings of guilt over her father, the stress of her daily life. She cried loudly and continuously, the pain from the continuous slaps pushing her to cry all that much more. Paul was very nervous about continuing. Apparently this was what Amy wanted, but he felt tremendously guilty about hitting her when she already was crying so hard. His arm was getting tired and his muscles beginning to cramp. He had been spanking Amy for well over a half an hour. He imagined her bottom must be completely red by now, although he could not see the color in the dark. How much more of this could she take? Finally, Amy spoke, gasping between sobs. "Paul...that...that's enough...thanks..." He helped her up and she nestled against his side. She put her face and hand on his chest and continued to cry, with Paul nervously looking down at her in the dark. Amy sobbed for what seemed forever to Paul. She had been right, there was nothing sexy about this experience. At last her sobs died down and Amy became quiet. Paul could tell by her breathing that she was going to sleep. He picked her up and carried her to her room. He laid her on her bed, then reached in her closet for an extra blanket to put over her. She was deeply asleep. Paul was not tired enough to go to bed yet. He walked through the apartment back to the living room window, staring out at the dark neighborhood. For a long time he was content to just stand there with his bare body silhouetted in the window of the silent apartment. He wondered about Wendy and what was happening to her. Then he wondered about his own future. Political Science was not a very lucrative field. He already was in debt and that was getting worse. The upcoming photo-shoot with Suzanne would not help, because the money already was earmarked for Julie. Paul wondered. How would he take care of Amy? What would the future hold for them? Well, no point in thinking about that now. The best he could do was to be there for her, to try to understand her needs, and to be as good to her as possible. With that he went back to Amy's room and slipped under the blanket with her. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 23 Chapter 23 - Wendy's Whipping Burnside almost immediately achieved her main goal with Wendy, to get her thought patterns away from what they had been over the past year. Wendy ceased to think about gambling. Her suicide fantasies totally vanished from her mind. Instead her life and thoughts consisted of pleasing her mistress, her correspondence classes, and her art. Wendy did not have time to think about anything else. Burnside forced her to focus her time and her energies. Wendy learned to appreciate her life. She learned to cherish the few free moments available to her and use them to their fullest. In a strange way she was happier then she had been in a long time. Wendy's life was very structured, with very clear rules and expectations. As cruel as Burnside may have been, she deeply cared for Wendy, and Wendy knew it. Burnside punished Wendy much less frequently than the student had anticipated when she began her period of servitude. Partly this was because Wendy adapted well to serving her. However, it also partly was because of Burnside's attitude about punishment. Burnside believed that physical punishment loses its effectiveness if given too frequently. The victim becomes used to it and eventually becomes less afraid of being punished. There also is the fact that the body compensates for punishments given too frequently. Burnside never punished Wendy over an area that had not completely healed from the previous punishment. She wanted to avoid toughening Wendy's body, but at the same time she wanted to avoid injuring her. For example, during the second week Wendy broke a glass pan lid while cooking. She immediate confessed to Burnside about the lid, kneeling and holding the two largest pieces in front of her. Wendy's confession resulted in a lighter punishment, 20 strokes across the fronts of her thighs with a riding crop. Wendy's bottom and shoulders were still marked from the first switching, and for Burnside would remain off-limits until the marks were gone. The only unmarked part of Wendy's body suitable for punishment at that time were the fronts of Wendy's thighs. Burnside wanted her servant to fear each punishment as much as she feared the first one, which was another reason Wendy never received a severe punishment more than once every three or four weeks. Burnside never used the same implement twice. She forced Wendy to assume different positions. ---------- At age 41, Ruth Burnside had an insatiable sexual appetite. About half the nights Wendy was with her, Burnside had a lover over. In all Wendy counted a total of 16 lovers; 13 men and 3 women. Some came over only once, others came over several times. The majority of the lovers seemed to be in their 30's, although there were a couple of guys who appeared to be in their 50's, and one young woman who seemed not much older than Wendy. Burnside's lovers included two Blacks, a couple of Hispanics, a guy from Mainland China, and a young man who appeared to be from the Middle East. The discipline sessions all followed the same general pattern, but there were variations. For example, the young woman seemed particularly embarrassed at having to undress in front of Wendy. Burnside forced her to focus on her submission by ordering her to spend a long time standing under the spotlight with her hands behind her head, while Wendy walked around her and carefully studied her body. When the guy from Mainland China came over, it was Wendy who issued Burnside's commands to him in Chinese. The Chinese guy spoke good English, but hearing the orders spoken to him in his native language added to his humiliation and sense of vulnerability. Wendy never participated in anything beyond the initial part of Burnside's discipline sessions. She came out to take the submissive's clothing and serve the wine, and then was dismissed. When Burnside was entertaining, she allowed her servant to close her bedroom door. Wendy's reward from Burnside for participating in the sessions was that she could work on her art instead of studying. However, the sessions fascinated Wendy and she gladly would have participated even without the incentive of not having to spend the night doing her coursework. Burnside made the rules very clear to both Wendy and her guests. Wendy was expected to perform her role in Burnside's discipline ritual and serve wine. She owed the guests nothing else. The guests were to respect the servant and not attempt to flirt with her or engage her in any conversation. "If anyone who comes over here is ever disrespectful to you, let me know immediately. I want you to understand that to disrespect you is to disrespect me, and there will be hell to pay for anyone who tries it." Burnside invariably punished her lovers. Wendy often heard the CRACK!...CRACK!...CRACK!... of a punishment coming from Burnside's bedroom once the living room portion of the punishment was over. Sometimes she heard crying or screams. Wendy was under the impression that Burnside cared little for most of her lovers. They came over, gave up their clothes, had their wine, received a punishment, had sex, and were gone after a few hours. During January Burnside entertained lovers about a half of the nights Wendy lived with her. During many of the nights that Burnside was not with guests she ordered Wendy to be with her. When it came to sex, Burnside was extremely demanding and often very cruel to her servant. Occasionally Burnside used sex as a means to punish Wendy instead of the constant whippings she had expected prior to coming over. Burnside totally dominated Wendy's sexuality during the first month of her servitude. During their first few nights together the professor learned the physical vulnerabilities of the student's body, and then used those vulnerabilities to completely control her. It was through sex, much more than the physical punishments, that Burnside forced Wendy to become truly submissive to her. Burnside especially loved to torment her servant by bringing her close to orgasm but not allowing her to climax. Wendy spent countless hours with her wrists and ankles attached to her bed-posts and her eyes covered while Burnside played with her body. For hours on end she pulled desperately at her restraints and groaned while Burnside lightly teased her between the legs with her fingertips and tongue. When Wendy was almost insane from arousal, Burnside unhooked her cuffs and led her back to the master bedroom by the wrist. Sometimes she threw herself on top of Wendy and pressed her pelvis against Wendy's. Sometimes she forced Wendy's face between her legs. Sometimes she ordered Wendy to arouse her with her fingertips. Sometimes she shoved her fingers up Wendy's bottom or vagina. Sometimes she forced Wendy to use her fingers on her. Occasionally she was merciful to Wendy and allowed her to climax. During that time Wendy was desperate to draw. The urge to draw burned inside her, to the point that she often sacrificed sleep to create drawings. By the middle of February she had a sizable collection of top-quality artwork in her desk drawer. The drawings became Wendy's outlet for the responsibilities and torments she was enduring. The drawings themselves had changed from the ones she created over the summer. Besides intense suffering, the newest works also reflected intense pleasure. ---------- Wendy's work on her classes was one important part of her life while she stayed with the professor. Each morning, right after breakfast, Wendy knelt at Burnside's desk and held her correspondence work in front of her for the professor to review. She watched nervously as Burnside looked over her assignments. Burnside never corrected anything, but if she did not think that Wendy had done good work, she brusquely handed the papers back with the comment "This won't work. Re-do it." It was up to Wendy to figure out what needed to be corrected. Burnside was determined that her servant strive to do her best in her studies, and more importantly, to learn to solve as many problems as possible on her own. However, Burnside was not so cruel as to leave Wendy with no guidance with her studies. Wendy soon learned that during their breakfast or dinner conversations Burnside dropped hints about her work and how she could find the answers to her assignments. Wendy learned to listen carefully to the professor for any hints or tips that Burnside might be willing to give her. Wendy learned the hard way not to try to slip anything past her mistress. At the end of January she needed to do a report for her independent study. She showed the report to Burnside along with some other papers. Burnside thrust the paper back in Wendy's face with the comment "Don't even think about turning this in! You will re-do it, and there will be no drawing until you have this report properly done!" Wendy's drawing was her only outlet, so she desperately needed to get the paper out of the way and get back to her art. At that point she made a big mistake. She made a few corrections and e-mailed the paper to her accounting professor. The next day she received a response, a C+ on the paper. Then Wendy made another mistake, saying nothing to Burnside. She did not realize that Burnside had set her home Internet account to automatically copy all incoming and outgoing e-mail messages to her home and send the copied messages to her computer at work. From her office Burnside was able to review the entire correspondence between Wendy and her accounting professor. She downloaded and copied the paper and returned home with it in the afternoon. Burnside said nothing to Wendy, but took out a whip and some wrist cuffs that were attached to chains. The implement was a thin buggy-style whip. The blows would sting, but the whip was not heavy and there was little risk of breaking Wendy's skin. Burnside would be able to hit Wendy many times with it, and even cross the welts, without much concern about injury. She laid the items on her dresser. This would be a long punishment, since Wendy had attempted to lie to Burnside by not telling her about her C+. However, Burnside was not planning to whip Wendy that night. Waiting would be part of her punishment. It was significant that Burnside was not planning to do the one thing that truly would hurt Wendy; take away her art supplies. Burnside knew the importance of Wendy's art as part of her therapy. The loss of her art supplies truly would be a severe punishment to Wendy, but one, thought Burnside, that ultimately would not help her. Wendy would suffer for the correspondence course paper and not telling her what happened, but the suffering would be physical. Wendy's art was off-limits. While Wendy was preparing dinner Burnside quietly slipped in her room and placed the downloaded paper on her servant's desk. Wendy would discover it after dinner and then would have to approach the professor about it. Burnside was pleasant during dinner and allowed her servant to sit with her. Wendy was cheerful, thinking she had outwitted the professor. After the meal Burnside sat down at her computer to work on an article for a professional journal she contributed to, while Wendy cleaned up from dinner. Wendy knelt at the bathroom door, as usual, for Burnside to take her collar off for her bath. She came out, knelt again for Burnside to put the collar back on, and then was dismissed. Wendy's heart stopped when she went in her room and saw what was on her desk. Her hands shook as she picked up the paper. She looked out her door at her mistress, typing away at her article. Wendy stood immobilized in terror for a moment, but finally could not wait anymore. Shaking, she walked out and knelt next to Burnside's desk. "Dr. Burnside...I...I...request...per...permission to...sp...speak." Burnside said nothing. She was in the middle of a paragraph and typing furiously, not wanting to lose her train of thought. Wendy waited until she finished with the paragraph. Still ignoring her servant, Burnside said nothing. She thumbed through a book, found the quote she was looking for, copied it to the article and typed the reference footnote, and started the next paragraph. Wendy became more and more nervous. "D...Dr. Burnside...I...re...request...permission to...sp...speak." Burnside did not look up. She kept her eyes focused on her computer screen and with a cold, flat voice, responded, "I heard you the first time. Your problems are not the only thing I have to worry about in my life. I will finish this article, send it out, and then we will discuss your paper." Burnside typed for another hour. Wendy did not know what to do. Should she get up, return to her room, and wait for Burnside to finish? Should she stay there, kneeling until Burnside was ready to talk? Wendy decided not to move. Her legs began to cramp from kneeling, but she was afraid to get up without being directed. What un-nerved Wendy the most was that Burnside had not looked at her when she responded. With anyone else that might have seemed a trivial detail, but with Burnside it wasn't. Burnside was fanatical about looking people in the eye when she spoke to them. Wendy realized that she truly was in disgrace. Burnside had refused to even grant her the dignity of eye-contact. The professor finished the article, ran spell-check, reviewed her footnotes to make sure she had properly cited her sources, logged onto the Internet and her publisher's account, and sent off the article. She disconnected, brought up her screen-saver, and finally turned to face her servant. "OK, Wendy. Now you have permission to speak." "You...you were right. I...got...a...'C' on...this p...paper. I...I'm sorry, Dr. Burnside." "Two things. First, you got a 'C+'. Don't sell yourself short. Second, don't tell me you're sorry. If you were sorry you wouldn't have done it, and you wouldn't have tried to slip this past me. Telephone operators and customer service reps say 'sorry', which is what you'll be if you don't pull yourself together. I expect you to take responsibility for what you do and not be 'sorry'. Another thing. You saw full-well that I was working on an article. Your problem was not urgent. I did not appreciate the interruption." "Y...yes, Dr. Burnside." "So...where do we go from here? I told you not to send that paper for a reason. It's shit, and you should be ashamed you wrote it. Had you turned that to in me, I would have given you a 'C-'. Then you thought you could trick me. Send it off and I wouldn't know. Worse, you deleted your correspondence with your professor so I wouldn't see it, after I specifically told you to NEVER delete e-mail messages on my Internet account. You deleted your correspondence to deceive me. Now, stand up and turn around." Wendy stood up, momentarily grateful to relieve the cramping in her legs she was suffering from kneeling so long. Burnside scanned her back and bottom. There were no marks from the switching several weeks before. Wendy was ready for her second severe punishment. "Now face me...OK. Where do we go from here?" "I...I guess...you'll punish me...Dr. Burnside." "That's true. That is what will happen. I will whip you tomorrow afternoon, when I have some time to punish you properly. Now get in bed. I want you up at 6:00, my breakfast at 7:00." "Yes, Dr. Burnside." With that Burnside turned back to her computer and typed her password. Wendy was dismissed. Wendy returned to her room, terrified. A whipping. She was sure that Burnside meant exactly that; She faced being flogged with a whip. Wendy got in her bed and quietly cried. It was terrible to have to wait like this. She would not be able to sleep much, if at all. She thought about Amy and Suzanne, about their freedom and how they must be enjoying this evening. She thought about her parents, and wondered what they would think if they could see her now. Why had she done this to herself? Why had she messed up her life like this? If she could only go back and undo everything she did a year ago, she could have a happy, decent life right now. Instead... As much as Wendy's heart filled with regret, if never occurred to her to pick up her cell phone and ask Amy or Suzanne to come get her. This was her life now, the one she had chosen for herself. She had nowhere to go, nothing to do, other than her life here in this house. Tomorrow would be a terrible day, but somehow she would have to get through it. ---------- The following day started out normally, except that when Wendy went into the living room, she saw a pair of open leather cuffs suspended, about three feet apart, from chains attached to the ceiling. Wendy's punishment would not be until after lunch, but Burnside hung the cuffs as a reminder to her servant of what she would have to face later in the day. She also hung the cuffs in the morning to test Wendy's determination to remain in her house. Wendy had the entire morning to think about what she would face in the afternoon. Her cell phone remained in her room. There was plenty of time for Wendy to call Amy or Suzanne and leave if she so desired. Wendy rushed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Burnside had not said anything about eating or not eating, so she fixed herself breakfast as well. However, Wendy did not feel like eating. Burnside came out, already dressed for her early class. Wendy seated her, then looked at the professor, wondering whether to sit down herself. "Wendy, sit down and have a good breakfast. You won't be eating lunch and I doubt you'll want dinner." Wendy forced herself to eat. Burnside said nothing more. She finished and went out to her car, leaving the student to clean up. Wendy tried to keep herself busy the entire morning, to forget about what she would have to face in the afternoon. She cleaned up from breakfast and cleaned the two bathrooms. Burnside had expected her to study, but there was no way she could concentrate. Wendy sat at her desk and glanced at her cell-phone. She felt a fleeting temptation to call Amy and ask her friend to pick her up. The temptation was only momentary, however. Wendy had entered into her agreement with Burnside at her own request. It had been her choice to be Burnside's servant. It had been her choice to attempt to deceive Burnside about the assignment. It now would be her choice to stay and accept the consequences of her actions. The thought of being whipped terrified her more than ever, but she would stay and face that fear. She realized this was the moment, the opportunity for her to face her terror directly and overcome it. She would conquer her fear and finally achieve the transformation in her soul that she so desperately wanted. At that moment Wendy felt more liberated than she had ever felt before. Wendy filled the rest of her time that morning drawing a picture. Her emotional turmoil came out in the drawing. She finished the drawing and was contemplating starting on another when she heard Burnside's car pull into the garage. Wendy ran out into the center of living room and knelt on the floor. Her heart pounded as she glanced up at the cuffs hanging from the ceiling. Her eyes were wide with fear and she was shaking. Burnside came in and glanced approvingly at her servant. Burnside was well-aware of the temptation she had given Wendy by leaving her alone all morning with the option of fleeing the house open to her. She had decided to test her servant because she had doubted Wendy's determination to fulfill her part of the agreement. Wendy, by staying in spite of her fears, had proven herself to her mistress. Wendy's determination to stay would in no way alleviate her upcoming whipping, but it would very profoundly change the relationship between the two women once the punishment was over and Wendy's welts had healed. Burnside went to her room to change and pick up the rest of the items that she needed for the girl's whipping. Burnside changed into shorts and a sports bra. She wanted maximum freedom of movement and was not interested in dressing the part of a dominatrix. She took out leather cuffs for Wendy's ankles, a black scarf to blindfold her, and some short chains and hooks to attach Wendy's ankle cuffs to eye-hooks installed in the floor. She picked up the whip and carried everything back out to the living room. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 23 Burnside laid everything in front of Wendy. She let her servant have a good look at the whip before picking up the scarf. Wendy's terrified eyes met the professor's. She was scared, and with good reason. Burnside folded the scarf, placed it over Wendy's eyes, tied it behind her head, and checked to make sure she could not peek out if she raised her head. Wendy heard the rattling of the chains as Burnside attached them to a set of collapsible eyehooks in the floor. Burnside had several sets of these buried in the carpeting. They were barely noticeable metal squares, but each had a metal loop that popped up when needed and that folded down flat when not needed. There were several sets of the same type of eyehooks in the ceiling, drilled into the wooden studs through the ceiling drywall and easily capable of supporting a person's full weight. Burnside then grabbed Wendy's arm and ordered her to stand up. She positioned the trembling girl under the suspended cuffs, lifted each of her arms, and wrapped her wrists in the restraints. Wendy was not suspended, but as soon as her feet were spread and attached to the floor she would have very little freedom of movement. "Put your feet slightly more than shoulder-width apart." Wendy complied, and felt the cuffs wrap around her ankles. She now was mostly immobilized, with her arms and feet spread. Burnside had access to every part of her body except the soles of her feet. Burnside knew what she was doing. Wendy would be able to move just a little, enough to maintain her circulation and not go numb during the punishment. Burnside backed away to admire Wendy's attractive body. She resisted the urge to unhook Wendy and have sex with her before starting her punishment. "Wendy, why am I whipping you?" "I...I...t...turned in...a...a bad...p...paper...Dr. Burnside." "That's not the main reason. Try again." "I...t...tried to...h...hide it...from you." "That's somewhat closer to the truth. I am whipping you because you tried to deceive me. Remember when I first punished you with Amy? I punished you two for the exact same reason I'm punishing you now. It wasn't that Marshall Plan paper that pissed me off. It was the deception. This is the second time you tried to deceive me. You will learn that trying to deceive me is not a good idea." "Y...yes, Dr. Burnside." With that Burnside picked up the whip. She planned to hit Wendy many, many times with it. The first two strokes took Wendy by surprise. Wendy had expected to be hit on the bottom. Burnside knew that, and instead hit her across the fronts of both thighs. Wendy was shocked by how sharply the whip stung. The pain was somewhat sharper than Burnside's switch. Wendy gasped and thrust herself backwards, only to thrust forward again when Burnside slashed at her bottom. Wendy screamed. Burnside laid three strokes across Wendy's shoulders and then three more on her bottom. Again Wendy thrust forward. Pain radiated over her body. She screamed again as Burnside lay a series of strokes on the fronts of her thighs. The professor stopped. "Wendy, you are not showing any self-discipline at all. I expect you to stand still for this. Instead you're moving around like a ballet dancer. Stick your butt out and keep it out. If you don't, I know how to make this a lot worse." Crying, Wendy shifted her bottom out. CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!.... Burnside laid a long series of strokes across Wendy's bottom and the backs of her thighs. She spaced the blows apart to let Wendy feel each one and appreciate it. Again and again Wendy screamed. With every bit of willpower she tried to keep her bottom out, fighting her instincts to shift forward and attempt to escape that horrible whip. As was the case for the switching at the end of December, Wendy's world was reduced to the pain being inflicted on her body. She was not conscious of anything other than her physical sensations. Her instincts demanded that she do anything, anything at all, to get this to stop. And yet she was able to resist the temptation to beg for mercy, knowing full-well there would be no mercy. CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!.... Burnside continued to lay the sharp blows on Wendy's bottom and thighs, leaving a mass of swollen reddish lines criss-crossing her tender brown skin. Wendy continued to do the one thing that Burnside permitted her to do, scream. Her blindfold was becoming wet from tears. Every so often Burnside paused, waiting for Wendy to stop screaming and get her breath back for the next round. Burnside turned her attention to Wendy's shoulders. This time it was not important that Wendy stay in position. Wendy's shoulders were vulnerable, no matter what. Again and again Burnside struck Wendy's shoulders and upper back, until the mass of reddish lines matched the lines on her bottom and the backs of her thighs. Again Wendy screamed, thrusting her head back and forth, her face distorted with the pain and fear of what she was enduring. The professor stopped. She noticed a couple of blood blisters on Wendy's shoulders. She had not broken the skin, but the blisters signaled to Burnside that she had to be more careful. She waited for Wendy to stop screaming and get her breath back. She positioned herself for the next portion of the whipping, across the fronts of her servant's thighs. Wendy's sobbing died down a little. CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!.... Burnside struck Wendy again and again across the fronts of her thighs. Wendy screamed much louder when Burnside carefully laid a series of marks on the insides of her legs, frighteningly close to her vagina. In her haze of pain Wendy realized that yes, Burnside was perfectly capable of whipping her...there. Once again Burnside paused to let Wendy stop screaming and get her breath back. For a long time Wendy sobbed loudly, as she hung by her wrists. When her sobs died down Burnside spoke to her. "OK, now you know what I am capable of. I haven't hit you there, yet. I will if you don't obey me." Wendy, breathing in broken, frightened gasps, nodded. "Get your butt out. Keep it out. You've had your warning." Wendy thrust her bottom out as far as she could. She was terrified, much more so than before this punishment began. Now she knew real fear. CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!....CRACK!.... Burnside laid another long series of strokes on Wendy's already punished bottom. The student screamed, but this time her fear of being hit...there...between her legs on the most sensitive part of her body, motivated her to stay in position. Again and again Burnside struck her servant's bottom and thighs, stopping only when she noticed several blood blisters among the mass of welts. Wendy screamed louder than ever. For the last time during this session Burnside stopped to watch Wendy sob and slowly get her breath back. She noticed that the girl was hanging by her wrists and not supporting her weight with her feet. Burnside decided to end the punishment. Saying nothing, the professor unhooked Wendy's ankle cuffs and took them off. She then put her arm around Wendy's waist and with her free hand struggled to unhook the wrist cuffs. Wendy was still sobbing as the second hook was released and her weight shifted into Burnside's arm. Burnside led the sobbing student back to the guest bedroom and guided her onto her bed on her stomach. Wendy was still in too much pain to be aware of much going on around her and was crying violently. Burnside took off Wendy's blindfold and for a while sat next to her on the bed to make sure she would be all right. Burnside went back out into the living room, took the chains down from the ceiling and put everything away. Then she checked on her servant, who was still on her stomach, crying. She examined the welts on Wendy's shoulders and bottom. She had not broken the girl's skin, but in several spots she had come close. Wendy was crying more quietly now. Burnside decided to leave her alone, but check on her periodically for the rest of the day. Burnside had a guest over later that night, but Wendy did not see him. Just before he came over Burnside left a glass of water on Wendy's desk. She still was crying quietly from the shock and pain of her punishment. Burnside knew that she was in no condition to do anything or face anyone. Before she left Wendy's room, Burnside had a final comment for her servant. "Wendy, I expect top performance out of you for everything. I do not expect haphazard work and deception from you. Now you know what will happen if you don't take our agreement more seriously. Do you understand?" Wendy sobbed. "Yes, Dr. Burnside." "Good. Try to drink some water and get as much rest as you can. You can keep your door closed tonight. Tomorrow we start fresh. I want you up at 6:00, my breakfast at 7:00." "Yes, Dr. Burnside." ---------- The whipping was a turning point in Wendy's life and her relationship with her mentor. It was the closest Burnside ever came to punishing Wendy as severely as what was in her pictures. Now Wendy knew what it felt like. The experience was somewhat different than she had imagined, but every bit as intense. The whipping traumatized her for several days and that trauma was reflected in her pictures over the next several weeks. Wendy's character changed after the whipping. Although she had adapted well to serving Burnside from the beginning, now she was determined to perform her duties in a way she had not prior to the end of January. Wendy became very diligent in all areas of her life; the housework, the meals for the professor and herself, her classes, her art. Wendy pushed herself hard. Wendy's diligence extended to her sex life with Burnside. There was a passion in Wendy's sex drive that had not existed prior to the whipping. She was not passionate out of fear of another whipping. She was passionate because the whipping put a new intensity into her soul, an ability to do things 100%. Wendy now wanted all areas of her relationship with Burnside to be 100%. On the nights they had sex, Wendy loved submitting to Burnside's kisses and caresses. Wendy treated Burnside with passion. There were moments when the student took control, pressing Burnside to the bed and covering her body with kisses and caresses. Wendy struggled to satisfy her mentor's sex drive as much as possible, to the point that Burnside looked forward to her nights with her servant. Wendy became an excellent lover. As a result Burnside lost interest in other people. Burnside's sexual tormenting of Wendy did not stop. It intensified, as it became obvious that Wendy wanted to be tormented sexually as part of her relationship with the professor. Wendy grew to love the sessions of being restrained on her bed, helpless and at Burnside's mercy. As much as Burnside tormented Wendy during these sessions, she was determined to satisfy the girl as well. Wendy had orgasms with an intensity she never could have imagined prior to entering Burnside's house. Burnside noticed the hurt in Wendy's eyes when she had other lovers over. Wendy became jealous of her mistress. Burnside could have used Wendy's jealousy to torment her further, but she cared about Wendy and had no desire to hurt her feelings. As the semester progressed she cut back on her other relationships to spend more evenings with Wendy. The only exception was Halsey. There was no way that Burnside would alter her relationship with him, not for Wendy, nor for anyone else. Wendy understood and accepted it. She made every effort to accommodate that part of Burnside's life, serving Burnside and Halsey with 100% concentration whenever he came over. When Wendy knelt and presented herself to Burnside in the performance of her duties, her eyes reflected a passion for her goal of pleasing the professor. There was an intensity in Wendy's eyes that unsettled Burnside, but at the same time pleased and gratified her. Wendy's servitude was in no way relaxed, and the threat of a punishment always remained a part of her life. However, it was that same threat that put passion into everything that Wendy did. Burnside punished Wendy severely three more times that semester. There was a caning the week before Mardi Gras, with Wendy restrained to the leather bench. In the middle of March there was a flogging with a martinet. Finally, in the middle of April there was a strapping, similar to what she had received from Amy the year before. As harsh as those punishments were, none of them came close to severity of the January whipping. ---------- By the end of February, Burnside was beginning to think about the need to transition Wendy back to normal life. Her servitude was not even half over, but Burnside had to begin the process of slowly preparing her to face the outside world again. Amy would be instrumental for helping Burnside achieve her goal. Burnside saw Amy in her office on a daily basis, but never had mentioned Wendy. She knew that was hard on Amy. Every time they worked together Burnside could see the question in Amy's eyes, what is happening to Wendy? Amy's question now would be answered, but not by Burnside. The professor decided that Amy and Wendy should begin to correspond as the initial step for Wendy getting ready to leave her house. For the first time in two months, Wendy would be allowed a link to the outside world in her personal life. Burnside began by asking Wendy to give her the pictures she had drawn so far to turn over to Amy. She suspected that Amy's photographer roommate could get them published. Wendy handed Burnside a sizable stack of artwork. Burnside was a bit surprised, realizing how much sleep the student must have given up to make all these drawings. All of them, without exception, were excellent. Burnside's disdain for the arts softened when she realized the power that could come out in images such as the ones created by her servant. That afternoon Burnside saw Amy in her office. She made some tea and passed a cup to her student aide. Then she spoke. "Amy, there is a question you've had, and that you tried to ask me back in December. You want to know what's going on with Wendy. You'll get your answer, but not from me. I cannot tell you what's going on with Wendy. It's up to Wendy to tell you what she wants to." The professor paused for a moment, collected her thoughts, and continued. "I need you to start writing Wendy. Write her every day. News, gossip, poems, I don't care what. But write her. In three months she will come back out into the world. You're going to have to help her, starting now. Whenever she chooses to write I'll bring her letters back to you." "Why can't I just e-mail her?" "It's not the same. If you write her letters you'll be forced to put some thought into them. You can't do that with an e-mail. Another thing. You asked if you could see her. Right now my guess is you'll start seeing her sometime in about three or four weeks, towards the end of March." Burnside then took out the pictures from her briefcase and passed them to Amy. "I'm giving you the drawings she's done up to now. If your photographer friend can get them published for her I would appreciate it." Amy laid the drawings on her desk and carefully looked at them. The element of extreme pleasure in many of the images surprised Amy. She knew that Suzanne would be very happy to see these and that they were headed for publication. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 24 Chapter 24 - Paul's roommate problems Paul and Amy accompanied Suzanne and one of her ex-classmates from the art department to Central Wisconsin for three days just before the Spring semester started. They rented a camper for Amy and Paul to change and warm up in, as well as a snowmobile and skis as props. Only Paul knew how to ski, and not very well. No one knew how to use the snowmobile, but Suzanne's classmate read the instruction manual and figured out enough to be able to turn it on and move it into place. Suzanne had chosen a location was that was lovely, with woods to one side and a frozen meadow sloping off to the other side. It would be hard for her as a photographer to concentrate on the clothes, since she was more interested in the winter beauty of the location itself. Suzanne was a professional, however. She focused on her task at hand, using an attractive location and an attractive young couple to make the most out of the clothes. The message she needed to send was clear; buy these clothes and you will look like this couple. Suddenly Suzanne understood Paul's objections to advertising. Essentially she was using her camera to lie and she did not feel good about that. However, like Paul, she needed this session, to build her resume more than anything else. She pushed her doubts aside and started shooting, her classmate helping her with the lighting and changing film in the cameras. The shoot itself was both fun and grueling for Paul and Amy. Over a three-day period they tried on 100 combinations of clothing. Still, they enjoyed much of their time over the three days. They romped in the snow and had a chance to be totally immature. Several times Amy put on the skis and invariably fell over, Paul having to help her up. Once she lost her balance and fell on top of him. They both fell into the snow laughing, with Suzanne firing away with her camera. These shots were genuine. Amy and Paul were a real couple, having real fun. Many of the photos went into newspaper ads as soon as Suzanne had them developed. As she thumbed through the Sunday paper the following weekend, it gave Amy a very strange feeling to see herself smiling under the word "Clearance". ---------- At the end of February Amy began her correspondence with Wendy. She wrote about her photo shoot with Paul, how she was doing in her classes, and her observations with the university in general. However, mostly she had questions, how was Wendy doing, how did she feel, what was her life like, what was living with Burnside like? Wendy tried to answer directly and honestly. Talking about her life was easy. However, she was unsure about her feelings. She did not mention anything about guilt or gambling. Wendy did have some surprises for Amy in her letters. Amy had expected that Burnside would punish her friend almost continuously when she left her at the professor's house in December. That turned out not to be how Burnside treated her. The only punishments were for specific offenses, and just three major punishments so far, the most recent one being a caning just two days before Amy's first letter. Amy cringed when Wendy wrote her in detail about the whipping in January. She realized, however, that the experience had been a turning point in Wendy's life. She had been traumatized by that punishment, but, Amy was under the impression that Wendy was glad to have endured it. She certainly seemed more focused as a result of having had that experience. In spite of the professor's harsh treatment, Wendy wrote mostly kind things about Burnside. She struggled to please her mistress. Pleasing Burnside was a difficult goal, but, with enough effort, one that could be achieved. Wendy's efforts to please the professor intensified her feelings about everything in her life, including the professor. Amy could tell that Wendy already had changed, just two months into her five-month sentence. The changes were reflected in her art, but also in her writing. Wendy was very direct in what she had to say. There was a boldness in her letters that Amy had not seen before. For example, she was quite open about her sexual relationship with Burnside. The professor was bi-sexual, and had brought that out in Wendy. She now felt a passion for her mistress, a development that disturbed Amy. What if Wendy could not let go in May? What then? Amy wrote long, caring, almost poetic letters to Wendy. She had so much to say to her friend, how much she missed her, how worried she was about her. Amy's letters meant a lot to Wendy, much more than she was ever able to express. Wendy was both scared and excited when she read the following lines from Amy: "I am so much looking forward to the end of March. I will get to see you, because Dr. Burnside wants you to start going out again, and she wants me to take you! We will spend time together, like before! And then you will have your life back!" Wendy had mixed feelings. She badly wanted to spend time with Amy. She was not so sure she wanted her life back. She still hated who she had been before her internment and felt very comfortable surrendering herself to Burnside. ---------- Amy struggled through the semester loaded down with Burnside's work. There were term papers, monthly tests, the midterms, and general counseling. The students initially saw Amy as more approachable than either the professor or Lisa Campbell, since she was only a couple of years older than most of the other undergraduates. She actually was younger than some of the students in the classes, the ones who had started their studies late. Amy still had an innocent look about her, which in reality was quite deceptive. Her young appearance and small size made the students under-estimate her, especially the fraternity guys. Amy had been hardened under the tutelage of the professor. She developed the same sharp eye for detail and the same ability to quickly judge how honest the person sitting in front of her was. She expected respect, and was quick to dismiss anyone who did not give it to her. Burnside spent a long time with her student teaching her how to identify plagiarized papers. She taught Amy tricks she had picked up over her years of teaching. She shared her vast knowledge of where plagiarized papers came from and who was most likely to use which ones. Burnside showed Amy the websites containing plagiarized papers and other methods undergraduates had for cheating. Most of them Amy previously did not know about. However, there was one website with several papers, including a paper about the Marshall Plan, that Amy was painfully familiar with. With a touch of sarcasm Burnside noted "I think you remember this one." Amy realized that Burnside had a real fixation on academic cheating. Burnside was an expert on the topic, but, as she explained, there was no point in writing any articles about it. The information changed from day to day and any article about academic cheating would be outdated before it went to publication. Still, every day Burnside's e-mail in-box was filled with requests for assistance or advice from other professors, and even university presidents. "It's a pity, because there is a lot of good information out there. It's too bad that people are using that information not to learn or enhance their own work, but instead to avoid working. They're just lazy and want to stay ignorant." Term papers were due the week before Mardi Gras. Amy graded a mass of assignments over a five day period. Paul sat with her helping her, but this time in a way that would not get Amy in trouble. As she completed the grading on each paper Paul proof-read Amy's work to make sure she stayed consistent. He separated any papers that deviated from the standards set by Burnside and by Amy's own criteria for grading, for her to re-grade. At first there were very few that needed to be revised, but as Amy became increasingly tired there were more. Paul's help became especially important after the fourth day, when Amy started to make mistakes due to lack of sleep. However, all he did was point out her mistakes. Paul was able to provide her with crucial assistance by doing so, but it was up to Amy to make the corrections. Amy identified several suspect papers that she needed to check before returning to their authors. She separated them from the other papers. There were six altogether. Amy expected to find half of the originals herself, and would have to check with Burnside about the others. On the fifth day Amy graded a paper that had language that was disturbingly familiar. The paper had been turned in by Paul's roommate, Alex. However the language in the paper was Paul's. Amy recognized the writing because she had read many things Paul had written, and was well aware that Paul had a very distinctive way of expressing his views. He used a lot of the professional jargon from his field, but also a lot of the language used by the Dependency School of International Development that he so admired. Amy decided not to ask her boyfriend about the paper. She would get the answers herself, and if need be, talk to Paul later. Amy prepared one of the dreaded empty manila folders with a post-it note inside for Paul's roommate. In the classes Amy and Burnside passed out the graded papers and a total of five folders. Burnside had determined that one of the suspect papers had been honestly written, after checking the language from the student's midterm bluebook, which matched. In class Amy approached Alex, holding the folder up in the air. She felt bad, because she did not know if Paul was involved in his roommate's paper. But as she handed the folder to Alex, she saw his face go pale. They exchanged looks, She let him know that she clearly was irritated by the uncomfortable situation he had placed her in. Amy took the folder back for a second, and wrote on the post-it note... "See me before you go to Burnside." Later that morning Alex showed up at Burnside's office. Burnside was teaching another class so Amy had some time to be alone with Alex. He was very nervous, and with good reason. "Alex, close the door and sit down." Amy got right to the point as soon as Alex was seated. She waved the paper in the air. "Alex, did Paul have anything to do with this paper?" "Amy, I don't understand. Why would Paul..." "Look, I am not an idiot! Don't even try treating me like one! This is Paul's language! I think I ought to know, since I'm dating him! Alex, I can assure you that YOU are screwed! That's not the issue! I want to know about Paul! How did you get this paper?" "Paul helped me. He suggested that I take a couple of papers he wrote and use them to write my own." Amy felt sick. If that were true... At lunch Amy confronted Paul. At first he seemed confused. "Alex asked me to lend him some of my papers. He doesn't do good term papers and admitted that himself. I thought he just wanted to see how a paper was supposed to be written. I told him to let me look at his paper before turning it in, but he said he had already given it to Burnside" "Well, look at this. Is this your paper?" Paul thumbed through the paper. Amy could tell that from his expression that he was genuinely surprised. "Actually, parts of three different papers of mine are in this one. Yes, this is my work. All of it's mine. I sure as hell didn't think he'd pull this when I lent him my papers, though." Amy was relieved. She had wondered whether Paul had helped Alex cheat. She could tell by his reaction that he had not. He was genuinely upset. That afternoon Paul went back to his apartment and looked into the history files of the computer he shared with Alex. He knew enough about computers to be able to retrieve deleted files. Scrolling through deleted term paper files, Paul made a very unpleasant discovery about his roommate. ---------- Alex showed up later that afternoon at Amy's office. She glared at him with the exact same expression Burnside would have used. He fidgeted and looked at the floor. Amy got right to the point. "Paul trusted you with his papers and you copied them and turned them in. Now answer, honestly. Is that what happened?" "Yeah." "So Paul didn't tell you to use his papers for the class?" "No. He wanted to read over my paper before I turned it in. I didn't let him, obviously. I'm sorry." Amy was hugely relieved. Alex had confirmed what Paul had told her. "You don't owe me an apology. You owe an apology to Paul, and one to Dr. Burnside." "What happens now?" "Well, under university rules you would be expelled immediately. If you talk to Dr. Burnside I don't think that's what will happen, although you might wish that it had...I think I know what she'll do, but I can't tell you because I'm not 100% sure. After you talk to her, talk to me again before you say anything to Paul." "Please, Amy, do I have to talk to Paul about this?" "Oh yeah, you got to tell him. He'll know, no matter what. You'll see why." Amy paused, then, once again giving Alex the same harsh look Burnside would give him, added... "I expect you to tell Dr. Burnside what you did and why you were caught. I expect you to tell her that I caught you because I recognized Paul's language in the paper. I doubt that telling her that will make your situation any better, but you need to take responsibility for what you did." Burnside showed up before Alex left. Amy got up to leave, since she had a class to go to. She grabbed her backpack and turned to Alex. "You might as well tell Dr. Burnside now." When Amy returned to Burnside's office, Burnside was by herself, thumbing through a couple of professional journals she had just received. Amy wanted to know about Paul's roommate. "Alex will be your responsibility. You caught him. I didn't." "What do you mean, Dr. Burnside?" "You will decide his punishment. What happens to him is entirely up to you. You can kick him out of school, do nothing, have him host the Mardi Gras party, whatever. I will support any decision you make." Amy thought for a moment. She did not like being put on the spot like this, but she realized what Burnside was doing. Burnside wanted Amy to assume greater responsibilities to prepare herself to teach. It was not hard for Amy to figure out what Alex's punishment would be. Amy would switch him, and he would host Burnside's party in the nude along with Wendy. That was standard punishment for anyone who cheated in Burnside's classes. There was no reason why Alex should be any different. "Dr. Burnside, I need to ask you two favors." "Let's hear them." "I need a copy of your discipline contract, and I'll put my name on it. And I need you to teach me how to use your switch." Burnside brought up her file on the computer. Amy changed Burnside's name to her own and printed the following: I, __________, admit to having attempted to commit plagiarism on __________. I have read and fully understand this university's cheating policy, and am fully aware of the consequences for committing an act of plagiarism under the student code of ethics. In lieu of disciplinary action from the university administration, I, __________, freely and willingly choose to accept the disciplinary alternative offered by my professor's student aide, Amy Debbs. I understand that upon completion of the disciplinary alternative to Ms. Debbs' satisfaction, I will continue my coursework and no further action will be taken against me. Signed __________. Later that afternoon Alex came back for a third time, very nervous. Amy handed him the contract. "Here's the deal. You sign this and do what I tell you, or you get kicked out under the student code of ethics. That's your choice." "What's going to happen if I sign?" "Well, I'll tell you. You are going to go to Dr. Burnside's house and take off all your clothes the afternoon before Mardi Gras. I'm going to punish you on the bare bottom with a leather switch. I'll give you 16 strokes, 8 on each side. That's standard for guys. Girls get 14, seven on each side. After that you'll serve drinks at a party in the nude, 'till about 4:00 in the morning or so. There will be about a hundred people there, including Paul. After the party is over you'll help clean up, then you'll get dressed and go home. You'll have two weeks to re-write the paper and then the whole thing will be forgotten. That's what will happen if you sign. Now, if you don't sign, I'll turn the paper over to Dr. Burnside, who will forward it with a report about your cheating to the dean. You'll be expelled sometime next week." Alex stared at Amy, stupefied. He looked stricken. He was pale and his hands shook. He filled in the agreement, signed it, and handed it back to Amy. "Amy, please, isn't there any other way I can make this up?" "Sure there is. You can get expelled and then check the want ads for a job. That's your choice." ---------- Amy had to go to Burnside's house for the second favor, learning how to use the switch. Burnside decided to invite Amy for dinner. When Burnside saw a look of anticipation on Amy's face, she added that Amy should not consider this night one of the nights she would really talk to Wendy. The professor explained that Wendy's servitude would not be relaxed until after Mardi Gras, when Amy would start taking her out. Going over to Burnside's house placed Amy in a very awkward position. She would see Wendy, and not see her, at the same time. In spite of the fact that Amy and Wendy had written each other almost continuously over the past two weeks, Burnside's servent would not be allowed to talk to her during the evening. She would serve Amy, just like she would serve anyone else. If Amy spoke to her, she would kneel and answer. However, there was one important indication that Wendy's life would soon change. Burnside told Amy to bring a suitcase of her clothes. Wendy would be allowed out of the house in about two weeks, if everything was going well. She would be allowed to see her suitcase, and would know that her life would begin to return to normal shortly. Amy went over to Burnside's house the evening before Mardi Gras. Wendy answered the door, standing behind it to not be visible to the street. She sadly looked Amy in the eyes, but did not say anything. It shocked Amy to have her friend right next to her, for the first time in nearly three months, and not be able to even say hello to her. Even though Wendy already had written her that Burnside had beaten her much less than she expected, Amy was still surprised to see her friend's body with almost no marks on it. There were a few faint traces on her bottom from her most recent caning, and that was it. Wendy's appearance had other surprises for Amy. Even though Amy knew that Burnside had shaved Wendy's head, it was still a bit of a shock to see her with short hair. Wendy's hair had since grown out somewhat, but it still was much shorter than she had ever worn it previously. The other surprise for Amy was her friend's physique. Wendy's arms and legs were muscular and toned from her daily exercise sessions, and Amy could see traces of muscle in her stomach. Wendy always had rather soft features, but nearly three months of brutal exercising had hardened her body considerably. Wendy took Amy's coat and hung it up. She then gave a look of gratitude when she saw the suitcase. However, Burnside ordered her to take the suitcase to the master bedroom. It would be another two weeks or so before Wendy would be allowed to use anything in it. Wendy then knelt near Burnside's favorite armchair, quietly waiting for her next set of orders. Her movements were quick and automatic. There was no hesitation, nor was there any modesty about being the only nude person in the room. She had been nude continuously for three months and by now was quite used to not wearing anything except her collar. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 24 Burnside then ordered her servant to pull the leather spanking bench, or "horse" as she called it, into the middle of the living room. Wendy jumped up, quickly walked to a back room, and dragged the heavy piece of furniture into the living room. She positioned it close to a back wall, then resumed her kneeling position near Burnside's chair. Except for the glance she exchanged with Amy at the front door, Wendy seemed not to acknowledge Amy's presence in the house. Amy reflected that she would have to ask Wendy about that in her next letter. "Wendy, I want you to finish getting dinner ready for me and Amy. Be ready to serve in 45 minutes." "Yes, Dr. Burnside." Wendy quickly got up and went into the kitchen. Burnside then tied a large, hard sofa pillow to the leather bench, at the level where Alex's bottom would be tomorrow afternoon. She explained about positioning herself, how to swing for maximum effect and control, and how to hold the switch. She demonstrated several times, hitting the pillow hard. Amy followed Burnside's instructions as best she could, and struck hard at the pillow. She would be able to hit every bit as hard as the professor could hit, but with slightly less control. Burnside observed carefully what Amy was doing, repositioned her slightly, and had her strike the pillow again. This time was better. "OK, trial run. Hit the pillow 16 times; eight on the left side, eight on the right." WHUP!....WHUP!...WHUP!...WHUP!...WHUP!...WHUP!...WHUP!...WHUP!... Amy struck hard, and struck well. There was no question that Alex would be no better off being punished by Amy than he would be by Burnside. Wendy brought the plates out and a bowl of salad. She poured wine for both the professor and her guest, even though Amy was still a few weeks away from turning 21. She seated Burnside, and then Amy. She filled the salad plates and took her position near the kitchen door. Wendy stood at parade rest, her feet spread shoulder-width apart, her hands clasped behind her back, her eyes looking straight ahead. This was a surreal experience for Amy, seeing Wendy like this. She badly wanted her to sit down at the table, but realized that until Wendy had her collar off that would not happen. She thought about what she would write tomorrow. She had so many questions. Burnside chatted about the upcoming Mardi Gras party. She would have a total of three students hosting including Wendy, Alex, and a sorority girl. Burnside had decided to simply flunk the others, because they had given her attitude when she confronted them about their papers. Wendy would be serving drinks the entire night. Alex and the sorority girl would be fixing drinks in the kitchen. Amy was curious about Dr. Halsey and last year's birthday spanking. "What happens if Dr. Halsey wants to spank you again, Dr. Burnside?" "Oh, he will. He's done it every year for the last 17 years. It'll be 42 swats, as much as I wish it wasn't. I can't get away from my birthday, as much as I'd like to." During the rest of the dinner Burnside talked about a wide range of professional issues, including her feelings about CNBC and the stock market, Europe, and scholarships. She moved to describing her vision of what she thought a capitalist system should be like. Then the wine went to her head a little, and her opinions became a bit looser. Burnside dismissed the current US leaders as idiots. As far as she was concerned, neither Bush nor Clinton, nor anyone in Congress, had any value as a leader. "We are a dying nation. Any society capable of electing that idiot Clinton, and then right after him that pathetic corporate puppet Bush, deserves to die, and die quickly." Burnside seemed to admire the Europeans much more. Amy said nothing. From what Paul had told her about France, it seemed to Amy that the Europeans were just as bad, or worse. Amy got to see a different side of the professor, Burnside the idealist. This is totally bizarre, thought Amy. Amy wondered about Wendy, as she quietly stood only a few feet away. What was going on in her mind right now, as she listened to Burnside pontificate about her vision of capitalism and her disdain of the country's leaders? Oh well. Another question for Wendy in tomorrow's letter. Again Wendy's sad eyes met Amy's as she left Burnside's house. Amy felt sorry for her friend, knowing that she would be serving drinks all night tomorrow in the nude. She had chosen this fate for herself, however. She was here because she wanted to be here. ---------- Amy met with Paul late that night. She was not in the mood for sex, nor was he. They had not talked to each other since Amy had confronted Alex the first time. Paul was so infuriated with Alex that he was not speaking to him. They both had to talk that night, Amy about Wendy and Paul about Alex. Amy started with describing the surreal experience she had at Burnside's table, listening to her professor lash out at Democrats and Republicans alike while Wendy stood, silent and naked, only a few feet away. Then she described her confrontation with Alex, and Burnside's tutoring her with the proper use of the dreaded leather switch. Paul described what happened with Alex from his end. Alex at first told him a censored version of what had happened with Amy and Burnside. Paul responded by showing his roommate the deleted file of his paper on their computer. He made Alex watch as he brought it up on the screen. Paul printed it, then went through the computer's history files to find and retrieve Alex's other recent term papers. In doing so Paul let Alex know that he had found out that this had not been the first time Alex had plagiarized Paul's work. Alex went white as the deleted papers appeared. He printed the other papers. Then he simply got up and left the room. He had nothing more to say. Paul did have a final comment. "As far as I'm concerned, you can treat him like Lisa treated that frat boy last year. I don't care. I'm as pissed at him as you were with Wendy when she tried to steal your credit card." Amy e-mailed Burnside later that night. Dr. Burnside. Alex will get a bit more from me than 16 strokes from the switch tomorrow. He copied Paul's work several other times that he didn't know about. Paul is really pissed at him. - Debbs - Amy, what you do to him is at your discretion. I told you that I will support whatever decision you make about his discipline. - Burnside - ---------- Amy, once again dressed in her nurse's outfit, complete with her accessories, arrived at Burnside's house early. As before, she was not wearing any underwear, in spite of the tendency of her short skirt to ride up around her hips whenever she moved about. She would constantly have to be pushing it down and readjusting it, but she could not resist the daring sensation wearing that skirt with nothing underneath always gave her. Amy arrived alone, telling Paul to join up with her later. Wendy let her in, and again looked into her eyes with a sad expression. She already was wearing the metal cuffs and temporary tattoos of Burnside's servant uniform. Her pubic hair was shaved. Because Wendy's hair was still very short, Burnside made her wear a maid's cap. The only thing missing were welts on her bottom. Wendy had not cheated and thus Burnside had no reason to punish her. Amy had written her a long letter with her questions and laid it on her desk in the guest bedroom. The sorority girl Burnside had mentioned was there as well, leaning against the leather spanking bench and crying quietly. Like Wendy she was naked, shaved, and wearing the cuffs and tattoos of the servant uniform. Burnside had punished her just before Amy came over. Amy glanced at her. She had the typical stupid-looking appearance of a sorority type, but at least she was smart enough to do what was necessary to stay in school. Burnside had not changed yet; she was still in sweats. When Amy came out of Wendy's room the professor handed her a paper shopping bag for Alex's clothes. She then took Wendy and the sorority girl back to the kitchen to help with the food and drinks. The doorbell rang. Amy opened it and faced Alex. Reluctantly he came in. Amy looked at him coldly. "I have something to say to you. I talked to Paul last night. He told me about the other papers. You lied to me, and you used Paul. You're gonna pay for all that. Get your clothes off." Alex reluctantly took his clothes off. Like Paul, he had an attractive body. He stood in front of Amy, trying to cover himself, while she stuffed his clothes in the paper bag. She motioned him to follow her to the bathroom. She picked up a razor and a can of shaving cream. "Shave. All your pubic hair and what's on your ass. Get it off." Alex looked at Amy with embarrassment, waiting for her to leave. "I'm not going anywhere. I get to watch. Come-on. Get started." Alex lathered his pubic hair. His hands shook as he started to shave. It was obvious that he would not be able to do it properly without slashing himself to bits. Amy rolled her eyes. "Give it up, Alex. I'll do it. Put your hands on your head and put your feet apart...Now stand straight." Alex gasped with embarrassment as he forced his hands behind his head. Amy turned on the bath water, and then shaved around the edges of his pubic hair, working her way towards his penis. She grabbed his penis, pushing it to either side as she shaved near the base. He grew hard from having her hands touch and massage him. Amy pulled the skin tight on his testicles and proceeded to clear the area around his scrotum. "Bend over. Grab your ass cheeks and spread 'em." Amy lathered the area around his bottom-hole and quickly shaved it clean. Alex, bent over, his roommate's girlfriend shaving him, was sick from the embarrassment of what was happening. "Alex, stand up and look me in the eye." Alex stood up. He had a furious erection, adding to his humiliation. Reluctantly his eyes met Amy's. Amy stared at him coldly. "I shouldn't have had to shave you and I don't appreciate it. There's no reason why you couldn't have done it yourself. And on top of everything else you're getting off on it. That's disgusting." With that Amy directed Alex to finish cleaning himself off. He dried himself and Amy led him back into the living room, his penis still sticking straight out. She put the metal cuffs and temporary tattoos on his arms and legs, while Burnside, Wendy, and the other hostess watched. Amy clipped Alex's hands behind his back and turned him to face the three women, with his erection pointing straight at them. "Alex, I put your hands behind your back because I don't want you trying to cover up. Now, when you are ready to behave and keep your hands at your sides, I'll take your cuffs off." "I'll try, Amy. Please." Amy unhooked Alex's cuffs. She turned to the sorority girl. "What's your name?" "Heather" "Heather. Yeah, that name fits you. You look like a Heather. OK, Heather, get a pair of medical gloves and put them on." Heather did so, quickly. Amy realized that Heather knew how to use medical gloves. It turned out that she was a pre-Med student. Suddenly Amy's plans changed. That was not good news for Alex. Amy asked to see Burnside in private. Burnside sent the three hosts to the kitchen. Amy then asked if Burnside if she had another nurse's dress. Of course, responded Burnside, she often punished her lovers wearing nursing outfits. Amy asked Burnside to lend Heather a nurse's dress and for her to be able to wear it that evening. When Burnside handed Amy a dress and a matching cap and shoes, Amy told the professor the rest of her plans. Her idea included a huge break for Heather. Amy wanted her to be excused from having to serve in the nude. She would instead wear the nursing outfit at the party, in exchange for doing something truly wicked to Alex. When Burnside heard Amy's plans she was a bit surprised and very impressed. Oh, yeah, Amy looked so sweet and innocent. She wasn't. Amy then took Heather into the bathroom. The girl's face lit up when Amy handed her the white dress. "I can wear this? I don't have to be..." "I'm giving you a break, Heather. Now you owe me. You, me, and Alex are going to put on a little demonstration for the benefit of the party tonight." "Sure, Amy, whatever you want! Oh, thanks!" "You still need to help with the drinks. But I'll need you and your medical expertise about half-way through the party." Heather and Amy came out the bathroom; Heather now dressed in a standard nurse's dress. She was so relieved that she had forgotten about her recent switching. Alex and Wendy looked at her, wondering what was going on. Amy suddenly realized she could make this even worse for Alex, and in doing so give Wendy a break as well. Her professor agreed, and sent Wendy into the master bedroom to put on a nurse's dress. Wendy, elated, rushed to Burnside's closet. It was the first time she was allowed to wear anything for almost three months. The dress fit loosely on her small body, but she didn't care. Wendy came out and stood next to Heather, both of them in white nurses' dresses with relieved expressions. Burnside stood off to one side, still dressed in her sweatsuit. Now Alex was the only nude person in the room. He would be the only nude servant at the party. The next step was Alex's switching. Originally Amy had planned to paddle him as well, but with her new plans decided not to. She thought about giving him extra strokes with the switch, but again, with her new plans, decided to give Alex a "break". He would get his allotted 16. Then he could choose to get more, or accept an "alternative punishment". Amy ordered Alex over the leather bench. She ordered him to spread his legs and grab the legs on the other side with his hands. She studied the backs of his testicles and his anus, thinking about the attention that secret opening would receive later that night, when the room was full of people. Amy did not clip Alex's cuffs to the legs of the bench. She crouched in front of him, near his face. He looked at her, his eyes full of humiliation and fear. He was dumbfounded that Paul's girlfriend, of all people, was doing this to him. "I'm going to start with 16 strokes on your bottom. A year and a half ago I took 14 strokes, in the same position, and did not get up or cry. I expect the same from you. I expect you to be brave, to be still, and to be quiet. If I have to hook you to this bench, I will double your punishment." With that Amy stood up, picked up the switch, measured her distance, and tapped Alex's left bottom-cheek just above his thigh. She drew her arm back and swung sharply at Alex's bottom. The switch made its familiar whoosh and a reddish line instantly appeared at the base of the right bottom-cheek. Alex gasped and groaned slightly. This hurt far more than he expected. He never expected that Paul's girlfriend, of all people could... The switch descended again, breaking into Alex's thoughts. He gasped again. The pain was brutal. How could he stand 14 more of these? Yet, if he moved, Amy told him he would get double, 32... Amy tightened her lips and struck again, slightly above the first two strokes. Wendy and Heather looked at each other nervously. Wendy had endured punishments far more serious than what Alex was enduring, but it astonished her to see Amy punish someone every bit as cruelly as Burnside could. She flinched slightly every time the switch landed on Alex's bottom. Heather was equally surprised at the viciousness of Amy's strokes. Burnside watched her student with approval and pride. She had taught Amy well. Amy struck Alex a fourth time. He gritted his teeth and gasped, making a real effort to hold back the tears. Amy paused to study the four lines marking the lower part of his left bottom cheek. She changed sides, and laid the fifth stroke at the base of Alex's right bottom cheek. He grunted harder. Amy thought she heard "Oh fuck!" under his breath. She slashed again. He gasped yet again. She noticed dark droplets on the carpeting under Alex's face. He was starting to cry. Amy hit Alex two more times on the right, then stepped back to study her work. The last of her strokes were still rising and turning dark. Her subject had eight even strokes on the lower part of his bottom. He was breathing heavily, but making every effort not to make any noise. Amy felt for him, because she had done the same thing when Burnside had punished her, now more than a year ago. "Alex, you lied to me about Paul. You could've fucked up our relationship, and obviously you didn't care. I don't appreciate that." With that comment Amy struck hard, right in the middle of Alex's left bottom cheek. He grunted louder. Amy struck again, just above her last stroke. Quickly she laid on the two final strokes that completed the eight on Alex's left side. "OK, Alex, just four more to go with this portion of your punishment." Alex was in too much pain to appreciate the words "this portion". His knuckles were white from grabbing the bench. He was trying very hard not to scream or cry and make a fool out of himself. Amy switched sides again and started on the final set on his right bottom cheek. Slowly she worked her way up his bottom with her final four strokes, enjoying the sight of the darkening lines and his flinching skin as it bounced from each stroke. Amy admired Alex for not screaming. It excited her to see him struggle to stay quiet. Amy was different from Burnside in this aspect. Burnside became aroused when a victim started screaming, while Amy was excited by watching a person struggle to maintain self-control during a punishment. Amy finished and told Alex to stand up. His face was distorted from the pain and effort he was making not to scream or cry. Still, tears were running down his face. His hands immediately went to his bottom, but quickly went off again as he realized that the welts would not bear any pressure. "Put your hands on the bench so we can have a look at you." Alex complied, and then Amy noticed his body shaking slightly with sobs. So she had gotten him to cry after all. Burnside walked up to Alex. "You under-estimated Amy, didn't you? Didn't think she could do that to you, did you?" "Y...yes...Dr. Burnside." Now came Amy's plan. Burnside knew it already. Heather and Wendy did not. "Alex, go ahead and bend back over that bench. I need to get started on the next set of strokes." Between gasps and tears Alex, turned around. "What...next set? You said 16...I'm done." "For cheating on the term paper, yes, you're done. But then there's the fact you lied to me about Paul. That's another 16, over the ones you've had already. And Paul told me that you plagiarized some of his other stuff as well. That's another 16." "Amy, you can't do that. You said 16..." "Well, you signed the agreement that your disciplinary alternative would be to my satisfaction. As far as I'm concerned you've been disciplined for the midterm. But there's still the lie about Paul and the other papers. Both are just as bad. So, you get two more sessions with the switch." "Dr. Burnside, please! I..." "Don't look at me, Alex. I agree with Amy. You fucked up. If it were up to me I'd use a whip. Get a little blood out of you." There was no escape for Alex. He looked at the bench, then at Amy. "Amy, please! Can't you do something else? Anything?" "Like what, Alex? How else am I going to punish you if it isn't with this switch?" "Please! Anything! Something else! I can't stand it again!" Amy exchanged glances with Wendy. She knew that Wendy had endured 70 strokes with this switch, and here Alex was, whining about just 16. "OK. I'll stop at 16 strokes. I'll punish you a bit later, but I won't hit your ass anymore. However, you'll do what I tell you, when I am ready to punish you." The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 24 "What are you going to do?" "That's for me to know and you to find out. You agree now, or we'll do the other two sets of 16 strokes on your ass. Which is it?" Alex again looked at the switch, then into Amy's face. "I'll do whatever you tell me." Amy nodded and put down the switch. ---------- The party itself was a lot like Mardi Gras last year. Burnside wore the same outfit as before, her shapely tanned bottom on display as before. There were the same decorations, the same dancing, Burnside's usual flirting with Dr. Halsey and her other male companions, the same drinks. The only difference was that there was only one naked male host, and two female hostesses in white nurse dresses. The graduate student from last year was there with her cop boyfriend and her large group of friends. Paul showed up in his hospital gown and his bare bottom. He and Amy ran around together, the nurse and her patient. Paul still was infuriated at Alex and gave him dirty looks whenever he walked by with his tray of drinks. He had gone out of his way to help his roommate in his classes, only to have Alex copy his papers, several times over. He felt betrayed. Amy gave Paul an abbreviated version of Alex's punishment, and added, "You said treat him like we treated Bill last year. OK, that's what I have in mind. There's gonna be a little show after Burnside gets spanked." There was the same question posed by Halsey to the partiers about Burnside's birthday, the same chant of "SPANK!...SPANK!...SPANK!", and the same loud swats reverberating throughout the room. There was the same result, Burnside playfully shaking her reddish bottom at the cheering crowd. She went one step beyond the previous year, spreading her feet and bending over to better show off her red bottom, as the cameras flashed and the crowd cheered and whistled. About a half an hour after her spanking, Burnside turned up the lights, stood up, and silenced her guests. Amy ordered Wendy and Heather to stand with her in front of a sturdy table that Burnside and Halsey had cleared just a few minutes before. The three nurses stood together at the table while Burnside announced that the party would be treated to a medical demonstration. Paul hooked Alex's wrist cuffs together in front of him and led him to where Amy was. Paul then made Alex kneel in front of three young women. On cue Amy, Heather, and Wendy put on their medical gloves. Alex looked around him in terror. He started to wonder if he should have accepted the extra two punishments on his bottom. Paul stepped back, as Amy took Alex's arm and forced him to get up on the table on his elbows and knees, with his striped bottom spread wide and high in the air. Amy tapped the insides of his knees to force them further apart. Any then ordered Alex to put his hands in the air. She climbed up on the table and attached Alex's wrists to a chain hanging from the ceiling that had two clips for his cuffs. With a series of sharp taps to his legs Amy positioned Alex so that his back was arched, his bottom stuck well out, and his legs spread widely. The partiers standing behind Alex had an excellent view of his anus and the back of his testicles. Alex's face was deep red from humiliation, but worse was yet to come. Amy then motioned Wendy to pick up an empty glass jar from the next table. Amy grabbed her victim's cuffed hands and drew her own face close to his. She stared into his eyes with a ferocious expression, a combination of lust, cruelty, and triumph. "You'll do what we tell you. If you don't, you'll get 32 strokes with the switch in front of all these people, and then I might just flunk you anyway." With that Amy jumped off the table and grabbed Alex's feet. Amy's graduate student acquaintance grabbed a flashlight from her boyfriend's belt and shined it at Alex's penis from the front. Amy nodded at Heather to begin, while Paul stood quietly in his hospital gown, watching with crossed arms. Heather shoved her finger up Alex's bottom. She found his prostate gland and began massaging it. Alex immediately went hard. Within a minute he had a furious, throbbing erection. Heather continued to move her finger inside, gently manipulating his prostate. She again looked over at Amy, who nodded for her to continue. Alex suddenly realized what Heather was about to force him to do. In front of all these people. His fears were confirmed when Wendy put the jar over the end of his penis. With her free hand Heather grabbed the shaft of Alex's penis and began massaging it, as well as his prostate. He held back as long as he could, but Heather's fingers continued to manipulate him mercilessly, both from the front and from the back. He groaned as he released over and over into the jar. The cameras flashed and the crowd cheered as they watched the white jets shoot out. Tears ran down Alex's cheeks as Heather got spasm after spasm out of him. Heather then let go of his penis and pulled out her finger out of his bottom. Wendy held the jar up high, displaying a rather impressive amount of semen to the cheering crowd. Amy then laid a fearsome slap across Alex's bottom. "Get your butt out. I'm sure everyone still wants to have a good look at it. If you dare move before I tell you, kiss your career goodbye." With that several female guests lined up at the table to fondle Alex and slap his bottom hard with their open hands. Several guests took pictures as they took turns smacking his already badly marked backside. Amy had promised not to punish Alex any more, but had said nothing about the other guests. Alex tried to face away from his tormentors and their cameras, but obediently shifted position and pushed his bottom out as best he could. The hard slaps on top of his welts were pure agony. Alex could not believe this nightmare. He began to cry as the crowd of women surrounding the table laughed and teased him. He was able to fully appreciate his complete public humiliation. He had betrayed his roommate, and now was paying dearly for it. He was absolutely dumbfounded that Paul's innocent-looking girlfriend could have done this to him. Finally, after the longest half hour of Alex's life, Amy climbed back on the table to unhook the cuffs. She ordered him to get cleaned up and get back to his main duty of serving drinks. He rolled off the table and staggered to the bathroom. Amy, Heather, and Wendy lined up in front of the table as the entire room exploded into cheering and applause. As Burnside smiled and gestured to them, the three nurses bowed to their audience, and then split up. Wendy returned to the kitchen and Heather picked up her drink tray. Amy and Paul went to the bathroom to retrieve Alex. She pounded on the bathroom door. "Alex, get back out here! Your break is over!" She heard the splashing of water in the bathtub. She pounded the door again. "Come-on! Out!" Reluctantly Alex opened the door. He faced Amy and Paul. It was Paul who spoke. "Look, Alex. I don't appreciate what you did, and I sure as hell don't appreciate that you lied to Amy about me! Well guess what? You're going to re-write every one of the four reports I found on the computer and turn them in, and explain what you did to your professors. I'll go with you. And until you do, Amy's keeping your Burnside paper." "Paul, please! I can't do four..." "Well, you're gonna learn! I'll help you. But before this semester is over, you'll write some honest papers! You'll have plenty of time during Spring Break!" "Spring Break?! But I'm gonna go to..." "Mazatlan. Well, now you won't. As Burnside would say, you're gonna spend quality time with your books!" Amy chimed in. "Alex, there are guests waiting for their drinks. Get back to work." ---------- When the party ended Wendy, Heather, and Alex had to put the furniture back and clean up. Paul's roommate was very subdued. He barely could face his two fellow servants. Burnside made it worse by forcing him to stay nude while Heather and Wendy kept their dresses on. Finally, totally exhausted, they finished at about 9:00 a.m., leaving Burnside's house as clean as it had been before the party started. Then something strange happened, to cap off a very strange night. As it got lighter outside, Burnside gave Alex and Heather their clothes back and dismissed them. Heather pulled off her nurse's dress in front of Alex to get dressed. He noticed her attractive body and the 14 red stripes on her bottom from her own punishment. Suddenly he got some of his self-confidence back. On inspiration he asked her if she was free tomorrow night. She looked at him, considered for a second, then said. "Sure, why not? Let me give you my phone number." The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 25 Chapter 25 - Amy's 21st Birthday The Mardi Gras party started Wendy's transformation to normal life about two weeks earlier than Burnside had planned. Burnside's original intention had been that Wendy should serve in the nude. She planned to have Wendy on the floor the entire evening, forcing her to be fully exposed to the party-goers. It was to be Wendy's ultimate act of submission and servitude, after which she would begin her slow transition to having her life back. Amy had changed those plans, as well as canceling part of the punishment Burnside had wanted to inflict on Heather. Burnside reflected that not only had she influenced Amy's life, but that Amy was beginning to influence her life and some of her own decisions as well. Burnside had no problem that Amy's punishment of Alex took priority over her original plans. When Amy approached Burnside about allowing Wendy to wear a nurse's dress at the party, Burnside agreed. She knew that allowing Wendy to get dressed along with Heather, while forcing Alex to stay nude, would add all that much more to his humiliation. She held true to her word to Amy, that she would support any decision that Amy made concerning Alex's punishment. That evening Amy got everything that she wanted when she punished Alex, no questions asked. After the party Burnside was glad that Amy had asked her to allow Wendy to get dressed, and that Wendy had performed so well along side Amy and Heather during the "medical demonstration". With her nurse's dress Wendy was much more confident during the party and fully participated in Alex's punishment. It was nice to see her like that, especially the moment that she held the jar of semen, up for the guests to admire. Burnside reflected that now, not the end of the month, was the time for Wendy to begin her slow transition back to normal life. After Alex and Heather left, Wendy knelt in front of Burnside, waiting for her next orders. She was still in her white dress, since Burnside had not told her to take it off. Burnside was exhausted, as was Wendy. Burnside ordered Wendy to take the dress off, put it in the washing machine, and then go to bed. Burnside was so tired herself that she actually would be able to get a few hours of sleep. Wendy slept until about 2:00. She got up and heard Burnside in the shower. Wendy immediately went to the kitchen to fix lunch. She prepared a salad and dessert, then heated a pasta dish to have it ready as soon as her mistress was ready to eat. She set the dining room table and stood by Burnside's chair, waiting to seat her. Burnside came out, was seated and served, and then Wendy served herself and sat down. Burnside complemented Wendy on her help with the party last night. Then Burnside surprised Wendy with her next words. "I want you to call Amy this afternoon, and make arrangements to get together with her. I will allow you to go out with her any afternoon this week. You'll have lunch with her and you may stay out until 5:00. Obviously your collar will come off when you go out, and you and Amy will be free to do what you want. You can wear whatever you want. The only condition is that I expect you back at five." "Yes, Dr. Burnside." Wendy was elated. Burnside looked at her, and continued. "Two more things. You now will start going out whenever I feel like giving you an afternoon off. This will be a privilege that I expect you will not abuse. The 5:00 return time is non-negotiable. I will make one exception to that rule, about 5:00, that is. If you ever decide to do a photo shoot with that photographer, I'll let you stay out as long as you need to complete it. Of course you'll have to clear it with me first." "Yes, Dr. Burnside." "Second thing. Your duties in this house will continue as always. You have given me top performance so far, and I expect that not to change. Abuse your time out, or neglect your duties here, and I will punish you and not let you go out anymore. Make sure Amy understands that." "Yes, Dr. Burnside." "And another thing. You are not to touch any money. I expect Amy to pay your expenses. If need be, I'll reimburse her." "Yes, Dr. Burnside." "Good. Now bring me your correspondence work. I'm ready to have a look at it." "Yes, Dr. Burnside. Wendy went to her room and returned with about three days' worth of assignments for her correspondence classes. She handed the papers and a red pen to the professor and knelt in front of her. The whipping in January had made Wendy far more careful in her course-work. Burnside only found two things she wanted corrected before the assignments could be sent to Wendy's professors. As she thumbed through the course-work Burnside noted that the assignments in two of the classes were among the last needed to complete the credits. This was another indication that Wendy's servitude needed to begin to draw to a close. Burnside reflected that Wendy's time with Amy and posing for that photographer would begin to replace the time she was spending on her correspondence classes. She handed the papers back. "Dr. Burnside, I request permission to speak." "What is it?" "May I call Amy now?" "Hmm. That eager to get out, huh?" Wendy blushed. "Yes, Dr. Burnside." Wendy returned to her room. She pulled out a stack of her latest artwork to look over. Taking care of her artwork was priority. Wendy figured that five hours would be enough for Amy to take her downtown, talk to Suzanne at her office, and get back. They could talk in the car on the way down and on the way back. Wendy was elated the Burnside was actually encouraging her to model, something she wanted to do very badly. With that on her mind, Wendy plugged her cell phone to its re-charger and dialed Amy. ---------- The next day Amy showed up at 12:00 on Burnside's front porch. At first she was disappointed that Wendy was still nude and still had her collar on. Wendy opened the door in her usual way, standing behind it to avoid being visible to the street. As usual, she said nothing as Amy came in. However, Amy noticed a cheerful expression on Wendy's face. Burnside greeted Amy dressed in a teaching outfit. The professor pulled out a key and Wendy knelt in front of her. She took the collar off Wendy's neck. She then went to the garage, got in her car, and drove off. Wendy and Amy were now alone, for the first time in nearly three months. Wendy hugged Amy hard, and then spoke, her voice soft from not having been used much since December. "My clothes are on Dr. Burnside's bed. As soon as I get dressed I'd appreciate it if you take me to see Suzanne." With that Wendy got dressed, in her usual designer jeans and a Casmir sweater. The clothes, especially her underwear, felt scratchy to Wendy. She scratched under her sweater, then decided to take her bra back off and just wear the sweater. She would not have dreamt of going bra-less three months ago. Amy was disappointed with Wendy's plans. Sitting in traffic all afternoon was not what she had in mind for her first afternoon out with Wendy. Wendy went to her room to retrieve her artwork. Amy understood a bit more once she saw a thick folder of drawings in her friend's hand. Amy finally was able to barrage Wendy with questions as they worked their way towards Suzanne's publishing office downtown. Wendy, her quiet voice still not used to speaking freely, answered Amy's questions as best she could. She told Amy about Burnside's daily life and her lovers, and about Halsey and why he was the person who got to spank Burnside every spring. The topic moved to Amy's curiosity about the surreal experience a couple of days before, Amy seated at Burnside's table with Wendy silently standing only a few feet away. "Amy, I do what Dr. Burnside tells me to do. It's that simple. I don't think about it, I just do what she says." "But it didn't bother you to be like that when I was there?" "I was upset I couldn't talk to you. But it didn't bother me that I had to serve you. You were Dr. Burnside's guest, and I am her servant. My responsibility to you was the same as it would be to anyone else." Amy was a bit surprised by the matter-of-fact way that Wendy described her situation and her subservience to Burnside. "Wendy, are you...happy...I mean, being a servant like that?" Wendy thought for a second. "I'm not exactly happy. I miss my freedom. I miss you and Suzanne. I'm scared when Dr. Burnside gets mad at me, because she punishes me and her punishments hurt. But at the same time I know she cares about me...I guess I feel safe. Protected or something." Amy remembered that Wendy had mentioned sex with the professor. She was curious. A year ago Amy herself had felt an attraction to Wendy, which was strange, because she had never felt that way towards any other female, not before or since. She remembered how, eleven months ago, she wanted to caress and touch Wendy, and how Wendy had been totally turned off by her desires. What about now? Why was she different with Burnside? "Wendy, how do you feel when Burnside makes you have sex with her?" "At first it terrified me. Burnside told me at the very beginning that she expected me to have sex with her as part of my being her servant. That first night, when she started touching me, I was so scared I couldn't even think. But she made me feel things I never thought I could feel. I never thought that...it could feel so good. I never imagined anything like that was possible." "Wendy...if I may ask...what are you going to do about sex once you leave Burnside's house? "I don't know. Before I moved in with her I only had been with guys. But that was in high school. The thought of being with another woman grossed me out. Now, I don't know. I know that I'll never feel the things I feel with Dr. Burnside with anyone else." Amy thought about her own sexual attraction to Wendy. She did not feel attracted to her now, and wondered if she felt attracted to Wendy last Spring simply because at the time she had been celibate for well over a year. But she was curious. There was something that she wanted to know. "Last year, when I got you back from Atlantic City, I felt a desire for you. It was weird, because that's the only time that's ever happened to me. You remember when I touched you, when I..." Wendy looked over to Amy. "Of course I remember that. It made me really upset that you would do that to me. I didn't say anything because I felt so bad about your credit card." Amy felt a sick, sinking sensation in her chest. "Wendy, I'm really sorry about...what I did to you." They drove several more blocks in silence. Wendy thought about her situation and about Amy for a few minutes, then spoke again. "You want to know why it's different with Dr. Burnside. I don't know why it's different. It just is." With that they arrived at Suzanne's publisher's office. Her company was a medium-sized publishing house that specialized in artistic books. The firm had just recently branched out into alternative comics and Internet graphics. Last year Suzanne rose quickly to become a member of the editorial board because of her book "Wendy". "Wendy" had brought in enough revenue and publicity that the firm was able to stave off a hostile take-over offer from one of the major publishing houses. The editorial staff owed Suzanne for saving their company with her work and began repaying her by giving her a decision-making role as an editor. Now she judged other people's work and arranged publications. Suzanne was stunned when she saw Wendy's pictures. Wendy had never taken an art or literature class. No one had taught her how to do any of this. She had a talent that was completely the product of her soul. Wendy had created the first chapters of a series that would become a classic in the world of underground comics in Europe, the US, and Asia. Suzanne recognized a plot as containing a few elements similar to The Story of O, but this was Wendy's own story. Wendy's drawings took the reader into a dark world of fantastic dream sequences, moving through an entire underworld of spirits between brief breaks of reality. There were elements of Chinese mythology woven into the story. Wendy's main character briefly surfaced in the cities of Europe, the US, and Asia, only to be pulled back into her fantastic spirit world. Suzanne realized that she and Ruth Burnside, each in her own way, had been instrumental in bringing out Wendy's talent. Suzanne had opened the door for Wendy by letting her know that her art belonged outside of the folder she carried around with her a year ago, but it was Burnside who had given Wendy the experiences that made her art real. Wendy's art had an intensity about it that was 100% genuine. The pictures flowed freely out of Wendy's brain and her hands; she did not have to force herself to create them. Wendy did not even consider herself an artist. Suzanne knew, from talking to her, that on the surface her friend still considered herself an accountant and future MBA. To Wendy art simply was something to relieve stress, and yet it was destined to make her legendary among the world of underground comics and Anime. "I'm not sure what we're going to do with this series, but we'll publish it for sure. I want to talk to the chief editor about your pictures. I'd like you to meet him." Wendy looked at Suzanne's clock. She shook her head. "I can't. I have to get back. There's one thing I can do, though. If you need me to model, Dr. Burnside said that I can, if I clear it with her first." Suzanne studied Wendy's face. There was an intensity in her expression now that had replaced her ever-present sadness. Suzanne thought about the possibilities. "I'd like that. How about you and Amy do some shoots during Spring Break? I'll think about what we can do, and let you know. Try to get Burnside to give you as much time as possible for that week of Spring Break. I can e-mail her if you need me to." Traffic was unusually light getting back to the university, which allowed Amy to have Wendy back by 4:00. They stopped for coffee at a shopping center near Burnside's house and talked a bit more. Amy was excited at the thought of doing another photo shoot. She had not expected that Burnside would allow Wendy to work until May. Amy dropped her friend off at Burnside's house just before 5:00. She decided not to go with Wendy to the door. The door opened and Wendy disappeared into the house. This time, however, Amy knew that it would be only a week or two before she would see her again, not an entire semester. As soon as she entered the house Wendy took her clothes off, folded them, and put them back in the suitcase. She then knelt in the middle of the living room as Burnside moved behind her. She felt the collar close around her neck and the lock click shut. ---------- Amy's birthday came up just before Spring Break. She now was 21, legal drinking age. Amy reflected that it was ironic that now she could legally drink, she drank only sparingly. She passed up the opportunity to go through the drinking rite of passage, hitting a bunch of bars on her birthday. The truth was that she had no one to go with. Paul was just about to turn 20, Wendy was locked up in Burnside's house, and Suzanne did not drink. There was only one person with whom she could drink socially, and that was Robert. Suddenly Amy felt a desire to see him and spend some time with him. She borrowed Suzanne's minivan and drove downtown to his office. They went to his favorite restaurant for happy hour, and ordered a light dinner with some wine. It was the first time Amy ordered alcohol in a restaurant legally, and somehow it seemed appropriate that she would celebrate this moment with Robert. Amy wanted to talk, about her thoughts on Wendy and herself, as well as Tricia and Courtney. The thought of a self-destructive flaw in their personalities fascinated Amy, and she wanted to bounce the idea off Robert. "I don't know," he responded, "I always saw Tricia as a masochist, not as someone who wanted to self-destruct. She wanted to live, but she wanted to suffer. I don't think she ever thought about killing herself. I think that Courtney simply didn't know when to call it quits. I think that was her problem. As for you, you had no sense of direction. You hooked up with Courtney, just like you could have hooked up with anyone else and have had a totally different experience in high school. I do think you might be right about Wendy." "Robert, when I was in high school, how did you see me?" "I didn't like you. I thought you were a trouble-maker, and that you and Courtney were just part of a bad crowd. I didn't like what you were doing to your father." Amy swallowed hard. Robert was never one to mince words. She had asked him for his opinion. But Robert sipped his wine and continued. "I always saw things from John's point of view. I never got the chance to hear your point of view, nor would I have wanted to hear it. I would have simply dismissed anything you had to say as coming from a spoiled, drunken teenager. But after you went to college I had a chance to reflect that you did have a side of the story to tell. I don't know how your mother's death affected you. I do know that John was too busy to really spend the time he needed to with you. And that was my fault." "Your fault? Your fault for what?" "I was worried that John wouldn't handle the death of your mother well. So I did everything I could to keep him busy. I brought him into several cases that he didn't need to work on, and I introduced him to a couple of women I knew, hoping he might hook up with one of them. I wanted him to forget about your mother. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I never gave your father a chance to grieve. I didn't give him a chance to be there for you. And I didn't think about your needs until it was too late." "Robert, please. You can't blame yourself for what happened to me and Dad." "I'm not blaming myself. But I need to understand what happened and how I affected your life and John's. I hope that...whatever I did that went wrong...that I was able to make it up to you. You know that your father would be very proud of you now. You've accomplished a lot in a very short time." Robert had said a lot those few sentences. As her father's friend cut into his steak, Amy pondered the memories of her relationship with her father. Suddenly Robert set his fork down and looked at Amy. "Amy, two and a half years ago I blamed you for your father's death. I was wrong about that. Don't ever think that it was your fault, because it wasn't." The conversation then turned to Suzanne. As they talked about Amy's roommate and Robert's fiancée, Amy remembered that Suzanne had once complained to her that Robert always thought he was right about everything. Obviously, tonight at least, that was not true. Maybe Suzanne had just mis-read Robert, or maybe she had changed him. ---------- After returning from her dinner with Robert, Amy returned home and turned Suzanne's minivan back over to her. Suzanne promptly took off to pick up Wendy, who had permission to go out tonight. Tonight, Amy's birthday, would be the first night Wendy was allowed out. She would go straight to Amy's apartment and then be taken straight back to Burnside's house. She was dressed, knowing that Suzanne would be the one to pick her up. Amy's conversation with Robert still resonated in her mind when Paul came with her cake and gift. He had her usual favorite cherry cake and a necklace that, although not expensive, was in good taste. Amy was grateful for the present, because even this modest gift stretched Paul's meager resources. Once Suzanne came back with Wendy, they had their quiet birthday party. Wendy gave Amy the only thing she could give to Amy, a color drawing. She had put much more concentration into creating it than she did in most of her drawings. The drawing was truly special to her, as was the gift from Paul. Amy knew that the gifts from Paul and Wendy were from their hearts. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 25 Amy blew out the candles to her cake, poured some champagne for everyone, and split up the cake. After Amy's modest celebration, Suzanne took Wendy back to Burnside's house, and then drove over to Robert's place to spend the night. Amy and Paul went for a walk in the warm spring evening, partly to walk off the effect of the champagne, and partly to simply enjoy the evening. By the time they got back it was quite late. Amy was passionate and felt very naughty. Giggling, she tore off her clothes, leaving just her shoes on. Then she ran past Paul and out the door of her apartment. She peeked her face back through the door at Paul. "Catch me." With that she took off. She ran down the empty streets and into a park, enjoying the feel of the cool Spring air on her body. Her breasts and bottom jiggled in the darkness. Paul, both astonished and aroused, ran after her. Both were in excellent physical shape, but Paul was a better runner and eventually caught up to Amy. He caught her when she tried to run across a street at the other end of the park, but suddenly had to jump back to avoid the headlights of an on-coming car. It turned out that Amy was very lucky. The car belonged to the Cook County Sheriff's Department, but the cop had not seen her. Her heart pounding, Amy crouched behind a tree as Paul caught up to her. Amy threw himself into his arms and kissed him passionately. She unzipped his pants and pushed them to his ankles, then took off again, this time back towards her apartment. She had a huge lead on Paul as he struggled to get his pants back up. She ran to her apartment door way ahead of him. She had been naughty, and she was in her birthday suit on her birthday. That could only mean one thing. She ran to the spare room and dug out Suzanne's paddle from her studio supplies. She dropped the paddle on the coffee table and ran back out the door. Paul was coming back at a quick walk, just about to cross the street in front of the apartment. Amy ran to him and kissed him. Paul swept Amy up in his arms and carried her back in, as she giggled loudly. When he saw that paddle on the coffee table, he knew that Amy was due a nice hard birthday spanking. He deposited her on the sofa, as she squealed and giggled loudly. As he reached for the paddle, she giggled and flipped on her back. He tickled her to get her back on her stomach. She squealed again and flipped onto her stomach. Paul placed his hand in the middle of her back and rested the paddle on her bottom. "Amy, what happens to naughty birthday girls, who run around in their birthday suits?" "They get nice hard birthday spankings. So, Paul, am I a naughty birthday girl?" "We'll find out. Happy 21, Amy." Paul brought the paddle down sharply across both Amy's bottom cheeks. Instantly her bottom began to sting viciously. Uh-oh, thought Amy. I forgot how much this paddle stings. POP!...POP!...POP!...POP!...POP!... Paul swatted Amy hard, quickly turning her bottom a deep pink. Sometime he swatted on the left side, sometimes on the right, sometimes across both bottom cheeks. The sharp sting and tingling heightened Amy's emotions. She was not exactly aroused, but her intense emotional state would quickly turn into arousal as soon as Paul stopped spanking her and started kissing her. Amy's tanned bottom was a deep reddish color when Paul laid the 21st paddle swat across both bottom cheeks. He kissed her swollen hot bottom. Her bottom was stinging and slightly numb at the same time, and yet Amy could feel Paul's lips on her skin. She rolled on her back. He kissed her stomach and slowly worked his way up her chest. He spent his time kissing both her breasts until she was aroused. He moved to her throat and shoulders. She threw her head up, wanting to feel his mouth on her neck. Paul finally worked his way to her mouth, and slipped a hand between her legs. For several minutes he teased her. Suddenly he stopped, struggling to get out of his own clothes. Then he started up on her again, working his way back down her chest and stomach with his kisses. He kissed the insides of her thighs. They climaxed together as he entered her. The living room filled with Amy's high pitched squeaks, as they sweated and shared their orgasm on Suzanne's expensive upholstery. The next day, with very red faces, Amy and Paul faced Suzanne with the explanation of why her sofa cushions had to be taken to the dry-cleaner's. ---------- Paul was occupied during Spring Break with Alex. He was dead serious about forcing Alex to spend Spring Break re-doing his term papers. Paul was there to help him though, as was Heather. Paul and Heather took turns pushing Alex. At the end of Spring Break Paul had a very strange story to tell Amy about Alex and Heather. Paul's roommate was fascinated with Heather, and afraid of her at the same time. She kept a belt in her hand as she prodded Alex to finish his papers. Friday night, while Paul was in the kitchen working on one of his own papers, she used that belt on Alex, ordering him to pull down his pants and underwear and cracking him hard with it for a long time. Then Paul heard her comment: "Alex, you're a bad boy. Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" "I'm sorry, Heather." "Not as sorry as you'll be a little later tonight, when I get my medical stuff." They left a few minutes later, Heather leading Alex to her car by the arm. They came back the next morning, Alex very quiet and quick to do anything Heather told him to do. ---------- Burnside never approved of Spring Break, much less did she approve of the binge drinking and partying that went along with it. For her Spring Break was a time to study and get class projects ready, which was why the major projects always were due on the Monday after Spring Break. Amy, several times over, heard Burnside admonish her classes: "Look, either you can kill your brain cells and empty your wallets doing stuff you won't even remember by this time next year, or you can take these nine days and do something truly worthwhile that will help your future. The choice is yours, but..." holding her red pen high in the air "...this is the consequence for a bad choice." The Friday before Spring Break Burnside discussed the upcoming final projects with Amy. At that point the professor had a surprise for her. "I want your photographer roommate to e-mail me tonight with a photo-shoot schedule. If Wendy is taking pictures I will let her out as long as she needs to be out over Spring Break. Understand that she is to be out only for working. When she's done working I expect her back. Same rule about money as before. Wendy does not touch it." Suzanne, elated to have the chance to photograph Wendy, e-mailed Burnside with a schedule that would fill up all nine days of Spring Break. She wrote the professor in detail about what she wanted to accomplish with each shoot. Suzanne even wanted Wendy for a trip that would take her out of Chicago for a full four days for a shoot in northern Michigan near Lake Superior. To her surprise Burnside agreed to everything. Burnside even had a compliment for Suzanne. "I have followed some of your work and you seem like a dedicated, serious professional in your field. I trust that you will do what is best for your model and ensure that she behaves responsibly. - Burnside -" The following day, just before sunrise, Suzanne and Amy arrived at Burnside's house to pick up Wendy. Amy went to the front door, and, as usual, Wendy opened it while standing behind the door to avoid being visible to the street. She knelt in the center of the living room, Burnside removed her collar, and Wendy went to the bedroom to put on a wrap-around summer dress. Amy was wearing a similar dress, since Suzanne had in mind some quick figure shots in front of several Chicago monuments. Suzanne wanted her models to wear something they could take off and put on quickly. For the next two hours they toured around downtown, rushing from monument to monument before too many people were about. Their hearts pounding, Amy and Wendy threw off their dresses, posed for a couple of shots, then quickly grabbed their dresses and put them on to go to the next spot. What they were doing was clearly illegal, but they moved quickly enough that they had no problems. The next stop was the studio at Suzanne's publishing company. For the next two days Amy and Wendy posed over and over, for figure studies, for fashion shots for a store that specialized in petite women's clothing, and for a couple of other ads. There was a follow-up shoot for the coffee-house client from last year on Monday, with Amy and Wendy once again dressed in the company's uniform, posing with sacks of coffee, coffee roasting machines, and store locations around Chicago. Tuesday Suzanne drove her models to northern Michigan for a series of different photo shoots. There was an ad for outdoor clothing and camping equipment that took up Tuesday afternoon and all of Wednesday. On Thursday Suzanne wanted more figure studies of her models along the lakeshore and on the rocks at the water's edge. Amy and Wendy spent the entire day in the nude, even though the weather still was rather chilly. They returned to Chicago on Friday for another of Suzanne's artistic ideas, posing in a park in Renaissance and Victorian clothing. On Saturday Suzanne decided to vary the theme. She had Amy dress in Victorian clothing and Wendy wear traditional Chinese clothing from the late 1800's. Finally, on Sunday Suzanne returned to the studio for a long series of portraits of her two models. Suzanne was fascinated by the changes in the faces of Wendy and Amy from last year. Amy's face resonated with a serious and confident expression, while Wendy's expression had an erotic intensity that Suzanne had never seen before. She wanted to document that on film. During their travels Suzanne never talked to Wendy about her life with Burnside. She did not approve of Wendy's submission to the professor. However, she had come to terms with Wendy's arrangements, accepting that it was Wendy who had chosen her current life. Suzanne's dislike of Burnside softened, as she realized that Wendy seemed more at peace with herself than she had been at any time over the past year. ---------- Burnside punished Wendy for the last time the day after Spring Break ended. She strapped Wendy for an offense that actually occurred the Thursday before Spring Break started. Wendy had gone through the drawers of the Master bedroom without permission and looked at some of Burnside's old pictures. Burnside would have shown Wendy the pictures had she asked, but was angry that Wendy had taken it upon herself to dig into her drawers. She deferred Wendy's punishment until after the photo-shoots were completed, to not have her body with marks on it when Suzanne wanted to photograph her. The punishment was not very severe; the welts healed quickly and were gone within a week. Burnside did not punish Wendy after that. Wendy finished her correspondence classes by the end of April. She drew continuously. More and more she went out with Amy, now about once every two or three days. There was more time to have fun and relax, as the 5:00 p.m. deadline for returning was pushed back to 7:00. Burnside was adamant about Wendy not touching any money; that was the only condition apart from the deadline for returning home. There were days that Burnside cooked her own dinner and ate alone, other evenings that she ate out with Halsey. Wendy was making the transition to having her life back. On May 10, after the last day of classes, Burnside had Wendy kneel in her living room for the last time. She took Wendy's collar off, and to Wendy's surprise, took it to her room to put away. When she came back she had another surprise for Wendy. "Wendy, I want you to get dressed. I want to go for a walk with you and talk about my plans for the rest of the month." "Yes, Dr. Burnside." Once they were outside Burnside surprised Wendy yet again. "Wendy, I want you to understand something. I put your collar away. Do you know what that means?" "It means that you don't want me to be your servant anymore?" "That's what it means. From this point on what you do in my house is up to you, as long as you respect my standards, my privacy, and my life. I want to take you to Europe next week. Amy told me that she has your passport. Once we get back, I expect you to move ahead with your own life and your studies." "I'm going to Europe with you, Dr. Burnside?" "For two weeks. We're hitting London, Paris, Brussels, and Berlin. For me it's a work trip. For you it'll be a chance to have some fun, see some interesting places, and make the transition back to your normal life." "I...I don't know what to say, Dr. Burnside. Thank you." "It's the least I can do for you. You've had a rough time over the last four months. You need a break, and you need to see something new." Burnside returned to the topic of Wendy's position in her house. "Wendy, you are no longer my servant. You are my guest. You can come and go as you want. I would appreciate it if you could still help me with the housework, but I won't be ordering you to. If you want to continue having sex with me, I would like that. If not, I'll understand. That choice is yours." "Dr. Burnside, I...want to keep having sex with you." "Well, how we do that will now be as much up to you as it is to me. That part is going to change. Now for our most important issue. Money and gambling. You're going to have to learn how to carry money with you and spend it properly. We can't put that off any longer. I have a favor to ask. I need some shopping done for our food and for our trip. I'll give you a list and some money. If Amy could take you shopping I would appreciate it. Since it's my money you have, I'd like the receipt along with the change." Amy pulled up in Burnside's driveway a half an hour later. She was surprised to see her friend dressed and sitting on the professor's front porch. For the first time in over a year, Wendy carried cash with her and went shopping. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 26 Chapter 26 -- Europe Towards the end of the semester Burnside told Amy to be ready to grade the final exams in a two day period at the beginning of finals week. The professor explained that she was leaving for Europe immediately after the finals were returned to the students, in order to meet with colleagues at several economics institutes in Great Britain and the Continent. "I hate to do this to you, but for the 48 hours after I give the finals, you and I will be spending non-stop quality time in my office. I have to get to Europe as fast as I can after we get the finals turned back to my classes. If you have any conflicts let me know and I will talk to your professors so you can re-schedule your other tests." Amy had mixed feelings about Burnside's rush to get the finals graded and turned back to the students. On the one hand she was glad that after two days she would be free of the stress of having to grade all those finals. However, before that break, she would spend a solid 48 hours with Burnside in her office, with no sleep and existing almost as Burnside's prisoner. Amy secretly resented Burnside's assumption that she should go two days without sleep and drop everything else just for her. Furthermore, Burnside let Amy know that because she would be in Europe, Amy would have to spend the rest of finals week sitting in Burnside's office, listening to irate students complain about their final grades. However, Amy said nothing, realizing that Burnside had legitimate reasons to push her so hard. The professor needed to get to Europe to attend meetings that week, and in fact would miss several meetings to give and grade finals at home. In spite of the importance of the meetings for Burnside and the department, there was no thought of giving finals early. Burnside was determined that her surviving students get their money's worth out of their classes. The last class of the semester had a lesson plan every bit as full as one in the middle of the semester. Burnside would have resigned sooner than skip a class, even the very last one of the semester. Amy also knew that Burnside would work non-stop until her portion of the grading was done. Burnside had that strange ability to work up to 72 hours without sleep. With 6 hours of sleep she was as good as new, ready for anything. Burnside's unstoppable drive still impressed Amy, even after two years of knowing her. Burnside relied on Amy extensively during the final weeks of the semester, even more so than she had during the fall. As nervous students poured into Burnside's office to fret about term papers or finals, it was Amy who had to screen them to see which ones had legitimate concerns to pass along to the professor, and which students simply needed to study harder. Amy learned to be both harsh and understanding, as the situation warranted. Like her mentor, Amy had little sympathy for the students who were in trouble because they had partied too much. However, Amy went out of her way to help the classmates who had tried hard, but still did not understand parts of the material. Without realizing it, by explaining the course material in many different ways to many different students, Amy herself became an expert in the subjects Burnside was teaching. Burnside made no secret of the fact that she needed Amy's help and relied on her. As harsh as she was with Amy, Burnside made it very clear that she was grateful for the fact that Amy was there for her. Amy was well aware of Burnside's involvement in academic exchanges and overseas scholarships. However, at the time Amy did not suspect that Burnside's trip would have any direct impact on her life, other than to promise her two days of no sleep while she and her professor read and graded essays. Burnside gave four finals on the first Monday of finals week. There were a total of 170 tests altogether, 170 bluebooks filled with the panicky scrawled handwriting of the test takers. Amy sighed as she followed Burnside back to her office carrying two out of the four boxes full of tests. Burnside turned on her coffee maker and handed Amy a box of red pens and her formula for grading the exams for each class. Amy sat down at her desk to get started. She looked over at Burnside. The professor, with her red pen scrawling furiously, already was halfway through her second bluebook. ---------- Amy was both surprised and pleased to know that Wendy would go to Europe with Burnside. Amy also was somewhat jealous, wishing that she could have the opportunity to see the places that Wendy would be seeing. Burnside seemed sure that she knew exactly what Wendy needed. This trip would be an important step for Wendy to take control of her own life. For the first time since December, Wendy would be on her own for extended periods of time. Burnside believed that it was important for Wendy to make this transition in an environment different from any familiar to her. Wendy had to start her transition away from the old landmarks in her life and the life patterns which had allowed her to get into her gambling mess in the first place. She would regain her independence while seeing new and exciting things, and hopefully the question of gambling would not enter her mind. Dr. Halsey drove them to the airport. Wendy boarded the plane to Europe with Burnside and flew to London, the first stop on a two week trip that would take them to Great Britain, France, Belgium, and Germany. When she traveled, Burnside indulged herself in the finest food and accommodations. Burnside's indulgence on herself was extended to Wendy. Wendy's role in Burnside's life changed from the role she held when she was living at the professor's house. Burnside considered Wendy her guest during the trip and looked after her comfort and entertainment. In the London hotel Wendy had her own room. ---------- Wendy's sexual relationship with Burnside changed dramatically once they arrived in Europe. Now that Wendy no longer wore Burnside's collar, she was free to make her own decisions sexually as part of her transition back to normal life. Burnside and Wendy continued their sexual relationship, but Wendy now was free to decide how she would spend her time with the professor. Partly because of the intensity of her experience as Burnside's servant for four months, Wendy secretly felt very passionate about her former mistress. The second night they were in London she had a huge surprise for Burnside. Wendy decided to go to Burnside's room after they had finished dinner and were done for the evening. She knocked on the door, Burnside answered with just a towel wrapped around her, since she already had taken her clothes off to go to bed. Wendy stepped inside, without saying anything. She took Burnside's hand, kissed her, and pulled the towel off. Suddenly their roles were reversed. Burnside was nude, with a nervous expression on her face, while Wendy was fully dressed staring into her eyes with an intensity that made the professor nervous. Wendy grabbed Burnside's other hand and pressed her back against a dresser. She kissed Burnside passionately, first on the mouth, then on her breasts and neck. Burnside's body responded immediately. She grabbed Wendy's hand and pressed it to her pubis. Wendy ran her fingers over Burnside's clitoris and vagina. Burnside groaned. Wendy then grabbed Burnside's hands and led her to the bed, motioning her to lie face down. Burnside complied, as Wendy kissed her bottom and thighs. Burnside was becoming more and more aroused. Wendy stood up to pull off her own clothes and then buried her face in Burnside's bottom, kissing and licking her bottom cheeks. Suddenly Burnside rolled on her back and pulled Wendy over her. Wendy grabbed Burnside's hands and pushed them to the mattress over her head. She buried her mouth into Burnside's mouth. Wendy's intensity both shocked and aroused Burnside tremendously. There was a desperation about Wendy's passion, the knowledge that she had only a few more nights to spend with the professor before having to return to her own life. Burnside could feel that desperation in Wendy's kisses. Burnside was determined that she would go all-out with Wendy tonight. She would do everything in her power to give Wendy as much pleasure as possible, to make up for the tremendous suffering Wendy had endured in her house. Burnside moved her face between Wendy's legs. She kissed and licked Wendy until she was wild with excitement. This time Burnside did not want to torment Wendy, but instead give her as much pleasure as possible. Wendy, from having submitted to four months of sexual torment and passion, knew how to hold an orgasm to maximize it when it finally came. She held back, and finally climaxed. Wendy suddenly wanted to taste Burnside. She moved her head between Burnside's legs and passionately tormented Burnside with her tongue, her lips and her teeth. Burnside climaxed, groaning loudly. Wendy moved over Burnside again and buried her mouth into Burnside's mouth. Burnside tasted herself on Wendy's mouth as she kissed her. She dug her fingers into Wendy's back. Burnside then motioned Wendy to lie on her stomach. She kissed Wendy's bottom, the same bottom she had so cruelly marked during the spring. After having gone nearly a month since her last punishment, Wendy's bottom was completely healed and her skin was responsive to Burnside's kisses and caresses. Burnside buried her face between Wendy's bottom cheeks, she moved her tongue around the sensitive area, doing something for Wendy that she had never done for anyone else, not even her lover Halsey. Wendy groaned with excitement and thrust her bottom up, enjoying the feel of Burnside's lips and tongue in the most private area of her body. This was a totally new experience for Wendy. She was almost insane with the sensation. Burnside knew how to give intense pleasure. She spent nearly two hours with Wendy, giving her orgasm after orgasm, teasing her and arousing her to her limits. Finally, exhausted and drenched in sweat Burnside fell asleep, her head resting on Wendy's chest. Wendy gently ran her fingers through Burnside's hair before falling asleep herself. The next morning Wendy woke up first. She looked at Burnside, still asleep. She pulled back the covers to look at the professor completely. The sight of her former mistress asleep, uncovered, and helpless had a strange effect on Wendy. The professor's face looked peaceful and somewhat younger in her sleep. It was very weird to see this dominating, powerful person quiet like this, even more so since Burnside rarely slept more than a few hours per night. However, she was exhausted after 48 hours of grading tests, then the flight, and then a long series of meetings over the past two days. Wendy knew at that moment her servitude had ended for sure. Seeing Burnside asleep took away much of the mystique about her. For the first time Wendy saw her simply as another human being. ---------- Burnside usually included Wendy in her evening activities during their time in Europe. Wendy went with Burnside to the homes of several high-level education officials in the various countries. She had the chance to meet several influential European economists and see some of the most elegant settings Europe had to offer. On the nights there were no official invitations Wendy invariably could look forward to fancy hotel dinners with Burnside. During the trip Wendy went with Burnside to only a few of her daytime meetings, the ones that Burnside thought would be useful for her. Burnside gave a several guest lectures about the crisis in the telecommunications industry in the US in each of the cities they visited, which Wendy always attended. Burnside was genuinely angry about investors' unnecessary losses in the US stock market. She spoke passionately about the analysts who, through misrepresentation of the facts, exhorted the public to buy bad stocks. She was angry at a system which no longer emphasized production and optimal use of resources, but instead accounting scams and insider trading. Burnside was irate over the tremendous injustice done to average investors. In the same way that she saw Burnside in a different light when she was asleep, Wendy also saw a different side of Burnside when she gave speeches about the US stock market and small investors. Burnside was an idealist, and had a clear vision for the way things ought to be. She was an ardent defender of capitalism, but not of the way the system recently had developed in the US. She was able to express herself and her ideals with conviction and passion, winning over her cynical European audiences. Her voice was full of emotion and power. At the end of her lectures she was loudly applauded by her listeners, Wendy included. ---------- The trip was an important part of Wendy's overall transition back to normal life. For the first time since December Wendy faced the prospect of having a large amount of free time. While Burnside was in daytime meetings Wendy usually was on her own, free to do what she wanted. She spent most of her time in Europe sight-seeing, since the majority of the meetings were oriented around university and department concerns and were of no use to Wendy. Burnside knew better than to just turn Wendy loose with no guidance. Familiar with London and the other capitols, the professor went over city maps in great detail, explaining to Wendy how to get around and what was most worth seeing. Every morning Wendy left the hotel with an itinerary of places she expected to see that day, carrying a cell phone in case she had any problems. Each morning Burnside handed Wendy the exact sum of money needed for the day's expected expenditures. Wendy was accountable for each Euro or Pound she spent. Burnside demanded to see receipts for everything at the end of each day, and tallied them up to make sure Wendy had spent her money on sight-seeing and eating instead of gambling. Burnside and Wendy both understood the importance of the professor's watch over Wendy's handling of money. In spite of her major in accounting, Wendy had to re-learn budgeting and spending what was in her pocket from scratch, as though she were a young teenager. Burnside gave the following advice, words that Wendy would remember for many years... "Look at your time and the money I give you in terms of opportunity costs. To see one place you will give up the opportunity to see something else. Spend your money on one activity, and that money is forfeited for anything else. Appreciate the time, the money, and the opportunities you have. Your time, your opportunities, and your life come, they go, and once they're gone they aren't coming back." Even with Burnside's careful monitoring of her expenditures, Wendy felt real freedom as she walked the streets of Europe. For the first time in over a year, she was able to move around with cash in her pockets and spend it on worthwhile things. She toured entire cities, saw museums, palaces, and local tourist spots. She saw Buckingham Palace, the Brandenburg Gate, and the Eiffel Tower. She toured ancient churches and strolled down old streets. She developed an appreciation for Europe and the history that gave rise to her own country, the United States. Wherever she went, Wendy had the opportunity to gamble. Slot machines, lottery tickets, and video gaming were everywhere. Yet Wendy did not feel the urge to put her money in the machines. It was not just the threat of having unaccounted expenses to have to explain to Burnside. She genuinely did not feel the urge. She had regained control of her own life. For the first time in over a year she could truly enjoy herself and appreciate being alive. She appreciated being able to see new and exciting things. A deep happiness grew in her soul during the time she spent as a tourist in Europe. Wendy felt the world open up to her during those two weeks. Burnside took a deep interest in Wendy's thoughts on her experiences as a tourist. At the end of each day they sat together at tea as Wendy opened up about her day's travels and the effect the sightseeing was having on her. Many of the places Wendy visited were places Burnside had not seen for many years. Some of the places had changed and Burnside was curious to hear Wendy's updates. When they were in Berlin they went to a couple of nightclubs Burnside was familiar with. Burnside had brought a couple of her fetish outfits with her in anticipation of clubbing and lent one to Wendy. Burnside was slightly taller and more filled out than Wendy, but she could make do with one of Burnside's outfits that adjusted. The clubs were a lot like Burnside's parties, the difference being that Burnside could relax more now that she did not have to worry about 100 guests in her house. Wendy had a great time, in spite of her strange situation. By the time they left Berlin Burnside no longer was bothering to book a separate room for Wendy, since Wendy was spending her nights in Burnside's room. Berlin left special memories for Burnside and Wendy, but it was the final phase of their time together. Their relationship was drawing to a close. As soon as they returned from Europe, Wendy would either move back in with Amy or with her parents and would continue with her studies. Their impending separation heightened the feelings they had for each other at the moment. ---------- Wendy and Burnside knew that there had to be a final act of closure in their relationship, a final acknowledgement from both of them that their relationship truly had become one of two equal partners. On the last full day of their trip the two women toured Berlin together. It was a cool, overcast day, which suited Burnside. The professor never felt at ease in casual clothing, and the cooler weather allowed her to stay dressed in one of her business outfits. Wendy was dressed much more casually, but in her usual expensive stylish clothing. After a day of sight-seeing Burnside and Wendy returned to their room. As soon as the door was shut, Wendy, with her recently discovered self-assurance, took Burnside's hands and looked the professor in the face. "Dr. Burnside, before we left Chicago you told me that I was no longer your servant." "Yes, Wendy, that's what I told you." "...and that I would have as much say in our sex as you." "Yes, Wendy. You don't feel that's true, that things are different?" "No...I mean yes, things are different. But there's one thing you haven't done for me, and I...I think it's important." "Yes. You're right. It's important. If you look in the side panel of my brown suitcase, you'll find what you need to punish me. Until you are finished, I'll submit to whatever you want me to do." With that Burnside sank to her knees. Wendy's heart pounded as she dug through the suitcase. In the side panel there were several discipline items, including Burnside's infamous leather switch, a thick leather paddle, and bondage cuffs. Wendy picked up the switch, slashed it though the air, but then set it down, opting for the paddle instead. She left the cuffs alone. Burnside would have to exercise self-discipline during her punishment and would not be restrained. Carrying the paddle, Wendy returned to where Burnside was kneeling. "Dr. Burnside, stand up, with your hands at your sides. Close your eyes." Wendy undressed Burnside, throwing her clothes on the floor. "Dr. Burnside, pick up your clothes, fold them, and kneel in front of me." Burnside complied, perfectly docile, her demeanor totally different from any other time Wendy had ever known her. As Burnside knelt in front of Wendy, naked and completely quiet, Wendy felt that her relationship with the professor, and her own life, had come full circle. She felt empowered, capable of doing anything, and capable of facing anything. She had changed. Punishing Burnside would be the final act, the final recognition by both of them that the Wendy leaving Burnside's house would not be the same Wendy who had entered in December. Even so, Burnside still had one more surprise in store for her former servant. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 26 Wendy ran her fingers through Burnside's hair and caressed her face. Then she noticed that Burnside's eyes shined with arousal and anticipation. "Dr. Burnside, stand up and put your hands on that table. Spread your feet shoulder-width apart and turn your feet in. Arch your back and make sure your bottom is spread and sticking out as far as you can get it." Once Burnside was in position, Wendy slowly caressed her body, concentrating on her bottom. She ran her fingers under Burnside's breasts and stomach, and slipped her hand between her legs. Burnside was totally wet. Wendy slowly ran her fingers over Burnside's vagina. She then held her hand to Burnside's mouth. "Dr. Burnside, I don't want this on my hand. Lick it off." Burnside slowly licked her own arousal off Wendy's hand. With that Wendy patted Burnside's bottom with the paddle, and then struck Burnside lightly with it. She started lightly, slowly, sensuously, gradually increasing the severity of the swats. After every 10 swats or so, Wendy slowly passed her hand over Burnside's gradually reddening bottom. Burnside groaned and gasped with anticipation. POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... POP!... The swats grew louder and more severe. Burnside groaned and moved her bottom out slightly, begging Wendy for ever-more severe swats. By the 50th swat Burnside's bottom was quite red and swollen. Wendy stopped for a moment to run her hand over the professor's bottom, enjoying the feel of the hot, swollen skin and the scent of Burnside's extreme arousal. Wendy moved forward to run her hand through Burnside's hair. Burnside threw her head back and gasped, her voice cracking. Burnside's expression was totally different from anything on her face Wendy had ever seen before. Wendy had seen her former mistress aroused many times, but never like this. Burnside's face reflected an arousal that went to the very depth of her soul. Wendy kissed Burnside and resumed her position behind her former professor. She struck her target hard, over and over. Burnside's bottom became a deep red, punctuated with purple welts. Burnside gasped from the pain and pleasure of Wendy's paddle swats. Sweat poured down her back and tears began to roll down her face. Finally Wendy stopped. She tore off her own clothes and grabbed Burnside's hand to lead her to the hotel bed. She forced Burnside's head between her legs and experienced the most intense orgasm of her life. She then forced the professor on her back and thrust her hand over her vagina, rubbing her thighs and teasing her clitoris. Burnside groaned and cried. "Wendy! Wendy!" Burnside rolled on top of Wendy and kissed her hard, grinding her pelvis into Wendy's. She thrust her hand between Wendy's legs, giving her the second orgasm out of several she would experience that night. ---------- Much later, Wendy lay on her back in the bed, with her head propped up on the pillow. Burnside lay cuddled next to her, gently tracing one of Wendy's nipples with her fingertips. "You now know something about me that only one other person knows." Wendy looked over to the professor, waiting for her to continue. "I love to be punished. That's why I'm so tough on everyone else. It's really what I want for myself. The waiting, surrendering myself to someone I care for, then the pain, and the release. Only Dr. Halsey knows that about me. Now, you know it too." Wendy drew Burnside's hand to her face and kissed it. Both Wendy and Burnside were infinitely sad at that moment. They had only a few more minutes left before they had to get up and get ready to leave for the US. Both knew it was the last time they would ever be in bed together. ---------- Halsey picked Burnside and Wendy up from the airport. Burnside was so glad to see him that she momentarily forgot about Wendy. It was painful for Wendy to see Burnside's face brighten so much when she saw her old lover. However, it had to be this way. Wendy knew full well that no matter who else she was with, it was Halsey who held Burnside's heart. They had been seeing each other for 20 years. Their relationship worked. Wendy knew that there was no way that Burnside's affections would focus only on her. She would not be able to bear seeing Burnside with other people. With Halsey likely to spend the night and herself no longer in the role of being Burnside's servant, Wendy knew that it was time to leave Burnside's house. She had a life to return to. Finally, after all she had been through and suffered, Wendy was ready to go home. On the way back Burnside realized that Wendy was struggling with how to handle her future. As soon as they returned to her house, she disposed of Halsey by asking him to help her start dinner, then walked out into her back yard with Wendy. Wendy stopped in front of Maynard's grave. When she saw the small stone with the name etched in it she turned to look at her professor. "Maynard was my dog. I had him for 17 years. I don't think you ever saw him, but he died about a week after last Halloween." "Do you think you might get another one?" "I suppose...I don't know. Maybe next time around I'll try a cat. I don't know if I'm ready for another dog." Burnside paused, then turned to the real reason she and Wendy were out in the yard by themselves. "When we were in Europe, there was gambling stuff everywhere. As far as I am aware you never touched it. Wendy, am I right about that?" "I never wanted to gamble, Dr. Burnside. Not during the trip. I...I felt different. Like I was free or something." "Well, that was why you came to me in November. So, do you think that you got what you wanted from staying with me?" "I don't want to kill myself anymore. I don't feel out of control. I...think I'll be OK." "The important thing is that you get back on your feet. I think my part is done. Now you need to learn to live on your own terms, and that will be hard. You can start as early as today. Spend some time with Amy. Have that photographer take some pictures of you. Get your drawings published. Study and graduate. You said it yourself, 'you'll be OK'." Burnside looked at Maynard's stone, then back at Wendy. "I e-mailed Amy from Berlin, just before we left. She promised that she would keep her cell phone with her so that she could pick up when you called. She can pick you up whenever you are ready." "Dr. Burnside, you know, there's something I didn't expect. I didn't think I'd miss you." "Well, I'm afraid all things come to an end. It's just the way life is. I know that even with Dr. Halsey at some point there will be a last time." The professor sighed, and continued. "I didn't think I'd miss you, either." With that Wendy went back to her room and dialed Amy. All of her clothes were still packed in her suitcase. All she had to clean out were her latest batch of pictures, her drawing materials, and her textbooks. Burnside gave her a box for the books. As soon as the books were in the box they heard Amy pull up in the driveway in Suzanne's minivan. Burnside carried Wendy's books while Wendy struggled with her suitcase. Once the things were loaded in the back, Burnside and Wendy shocked Amy by hugging each other hard before Wendy finally got into the minivan. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 27 Chapter 27 - The Final Summer At the end of May Burnside was in a rare upbeat mood when she returned from Europe with Wendy. She had met with the directors of several economics institutes and obtained what she wanted, scholarship slots for several of her students to study in different locations in France, Belgium, and Great Britain. Burnside already had picked the students. Now they were on their way to Europe, for stints ranging from six months to a year. Burnside's way of operating was to make the scholarship arrangements first, then tell the student in question. There was always a backup student in her mind in case her first pick could not, or did not want to, go. Burnside hated making promises and raising people's hopes unless she was absolutely sure that she could deliver. The only thing that Burnside hated more than a person who made undelivered promises was one who cheated. Burnside was a good judge of character as far as picking promising students for the overseas scholarships program. Only once in her career did her first pick turn down one of Burnside's scholarship arrangements. Two weeks after Burnside returned from Europe she sent an e-mail to Amy. The wording was typical. See me in my office at 9:00 am tomorrow. Confirm receipt of this message. - Burnside - Amy showed up at Burnside's office the next day. Typically, she did not know what to expect. Typically, Burnside got right to the point. She asked Amy to sit down, a good sign. "Amy, you know that this department has student exchange programs with the EU. I was in Europe making arrangements for students from here to represent our economics department at institutes in Brussels, Paris, London, and Edinburgh. You are the pick for London. You're going to London for the next academic year." Amy stared at Burnside in shock. She had known Burnside for almost two years, and yet the professor never seemed to run out of ways to confound her student. London. A year in London. Burnside continued. "Sorry about not giving you prior warning, but I don't like promising things to students and then have them fall through. Anyhow here is your packet." Burnside handed several thick envelopes to Amy. "Do you have a passport?" Amy shook her head. "Well, you'll need to get one. Here's a passport application" Amy still did not know how to respond. She never would have guessed that she was a candidate in the department's Europe exchange program. Burnside, looking at her stunned student, prodded her to speak. "Well, Amy, do you have any thoughts about this?" "I...I...don't know what to say. I'm...honored. I never guessed that...you wanted me." "Well, I have my reasons. You'll make a good representative of this university and of the US in Europe. I can guarantee you will have a tough time over there. Over there they hate Americans and they think we are a bunch of idiots. The bad thing about it is that the Europeans are right. We are a bunch of idiots. We're a nation of fluff. You'll need to convince the people you come across otherwise." "But why me?" "Real simple. You can handle Europe. People there won't like you because of where you're from, and you will be able to overcome it. You'll acquire knowledge over there that you can bring back with you. Your work is excellent and you will be able to make a contribution here when you get home." Burnside's sharp eyes scanned her student. She continued. "Amy, you're smart. You have character. You proved to me that you can learn under any circumstances. You're tough. What I like about you is that you don't look tough, which makes people underestimate you. But you are. You survived the streets. You screwed up twice under me and got past it. You can make mistakes and recover from them. I'd rather have that than a student who never made a mistake and then falls flat on her face when hit with a real crisis for the first time. I've seen that and I can tell you it isn't pretty to watch." "Get that passport application turned in ASAP. Read over your papers and write down your questions. Some of this stuff is complicated so it will fill up some time. Be back here tomorrow with everything filled out. You can e-mail me if you need any help with the paperwork." With that Amy was dismissed. At first Amy was elated. London! She was going to London! ---------- It was not until Amy saw Paul later that morning that she began to realize the huge sacrifices that she would have to make to go to Europe. They previously had agreed to meet for late morning breakfast and then spend the rest of the day together. Amy's mood suddenly went from elation to an overwhelming feeling of impending loss. She realized that she would go a year without seeing Paul. She would not see Suzanne, or Wendy, or Robert. She would be on her own, in a somewhat hostile environment. Suddenly she no longer wanted to go. The personal sacrifices would simply be too much. Amy still had her oversized folders in her backpack. She sat down with Paul. He had no trouble figuring out that something was wrong with Amy; it was all over her face. He did not say anything until they had their breakfast ordered. The server left them with their coffee, giving them a few minutes before their meal would be ready. "Amy, you might as well tell me what's up." Amy sighed. She could not say anything. She simply pulled out the cover letter from her packet and handed it to Paul. At once she saw, in his face, his happiness at her upcoming opportunity, and then his concern that she would be gone over the next year. "Well, congratulations. I'm jealous. Do you know how hard it is to get one of these scholarships?" "They're competitive, I know that. I never guessed that I was a candidate. Burnside hit me with this when I went to her office this morning." "So when do you leave?" Amy thumbed through her papers. Finally she found one that described an orientation that started August 15. "According to this I have to be there by the middle of August. I guess that has me leaving here sometime during the first or second week of August." Paul studied Amy's face. She did not look happy at all. Paul asked to see the folders. He thumbed through the ones that were open and was impressed by the range of material that Amy would be studying in just a year. There was no question this would be a rough year for her. She was not going to Europe for a vacation. As he reviewed the projects he suspected that she would be kept busy even between terms with reports, seminars, and extra coursework. There were seminars on the Continent she would be going to as well as ones around Great Britain. Paul was excited for her. Upon getting back Amy would be able to get into any graduate program in the US, or even go back to Europe if she wanted. He looked up from the papers into her face. He did not like her expression. "Amy, why the sad look? Don't you realize how lucky you are?" "I don't know, Paul. I don't know if I want to go." "What are you talking about? This is your big chance. Remember what I told you about Burnside last fall when she made you her student aide? That she had something in mind for you? This must have been it. She must have been thinking about sending you to Europe since last summer." "I don't get it. Why me?" "You'll never understand Burnside. She has her own logic. But I'm telling you that I had her figured out last fall. Now I'm sure she wanted to get you ready to send to Europe. Did she tell you why she picked you?" "She said that she liked me because she thought I was tough. She said that I always got past my mistakes. She told me that I could handle Europe and the anti-American feelings over there." "Well, she's right about the anti-American bit. You don't live in France as an American for a year without dealing with it on a daily basis. I've heard the Brits are almost as bad. I also think she's right about you being able to handle it and to get something out of this program." The breakfast came and the conversation was interrupted while they ate. Amy thought about her future. Suddenly she realized her future was not in Europe. Her future was in Chicago with the people she loved. She had spent too much time alone. She needed Paul. She needed Suzanne, Robert, and Wendy. She needed to start her family and her life. "Paul, this is not my big chance. This is nothing but a chance to spend a miserable year, by myself, 4,000 miles from here. My big chance is you. I'm not going anywhere. I'll turn the papers back to Burnside tomorrow. She can send someone else." Paul was not surprised by Amy's announcement, but he opposed her decision. He knew Amy well enough to know that if he argued with her, she only would be more determined to stay. As painful as it would be for him, he had to force her to go. "Amy, promise me you will think about this some more before saying anything to Burnside." "I made my decision, Paul. I'm not going. I'm staying with you." "Amy, just don't say anything to Burnside till tomorrow. Promise?" "Alright, I won't say anything to her till tomorrow. I'll give it some more thought, but my decision is made." ---------- Paul made an excuse to break away from Amy. He had to think quickly to force her to change her mind. Paul was forced into making the most painful decision he would ever have to make, but ultimately his most important one. Amy had to go to Europe. Paul realized that if she did not go, they would enjoy each other's company over the fall and into the winter. Amy would finish her BA and they would enjoy Christmas together. She would enter graduate school, probably in Chicago. They would have a lovely year with each other. Paul realized that if Amy's life followed that route, she would be happy, for a while. They would be happy together, for a while. Then, over time, Amy would start to wonder, "What if?" What if she had gone to London? What if she had come back after spending her year abroad? What lost opportunities would there have been for her? Then, very slowly, the question of "What if?" would begin to poison her relationship with Paul. Paul saw that happen with his parents. He saw it happen with his sister and her boyfriend. There was no point in talking to Amy now. She had made up her mind and only later would she regret her decision, when it was too late. Paul realized that there was only one way he could force Amy to change her mind. He would have to change his own life, to make himself unavailable to Amy over the next year. He would be gone, and that would force Amy to leave as well. Paul knew what he had to do. He drove to a military recruiting office. He talked to both an Air Force Reserve recruiter and an Army Reserve recruiter. Paul decided to go with the Army Reserves. He signed a contract for a military intelligence position and training as a linguist. He would be in training over the next 11 months, starting in August. He negotiated payment of his college expenses through the GI bill. That resolved one problem in Paul's life, his increasing debt. The recruiter asked Paul if he wanted any time to think over his contract. Paul said no. He took a series of tests, then went downtown with the recruiter to have the contract finalized, swore in, and worked with the recruiter past closing time to set up his training dates. The recruiter was surprised. Paul was a quality recruit, and there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted this, and wanted it fast. By 7:00 p.m. Paul was locked into a commitment with the US Army for the next 6 years as an active reservist, 2 years as an inactive reservist. With a copy of his contract in his hand Paul went to see Amy at her apartment. Amy's folders were on the dining room table, with several unopened envelopes full of forms. She planned to turn them back over to Burnside first thing tomorrow morning. The only reason that she had not given them back to Burnside in the afternoon was because she had promised Paul to think about it until tomorrow. Some other lucky student could go to London, not her. As soon as she saw Paul at her door, Amy could tell that he had made a difficult decision. It was all over his face. She saw a folder in his hand. Immediately she knew that whatever was in that folder was what he needed to talk to her about. They threw their arms around each other in the doorway. "Amy, let's sit down." They sat together on Suzanne's living room sofa. Amy increasingly worried about the papers in Paul's hand. Obviously they were significant. "Amy, I'm...not going to be here next year. I'm going to be in Missouri in the fall for Basic Training, then I'll be in California over the winter and spring. I'll be back in July, about the time you get back." Paul handed Amy the folder. Amy gasped when she opened it and saw his military contract. Paul sighed, and continued. "I'd been thinking about this anyway, because I'm worried about my student loans. It makes sense that I'll be in California...while you're in London." Paul could not look at Amy for a few moments. His eyes were moist and his hands shook. Amy had to absorb the shock. She had been trying to get a hold of Paul all afternoon. So this is where he had been, getting his Army contract set up. She started to cry. She grabbed hold of him and he put his arms around her. "Paul, no! Please!" "It's done. I'm going to California. You're going to London. My contract is signed. I swore in today. I insisted on getting it done today so you couldn't talk me out of it. Now you have to go as well. Even if you don't...I won't be here. I'll be gone." Tears ran down Paul's cheeks. Amy cried into his shoulder. He put his hand on her head and pressed his face into her hair. Amy was devastated. How could she be separated from him for a year? For a long time they sat on the sofa, crying and not saying anything. Finally Paul managed to speak again. "Amy, if you don't go to London, later you'll always wish you had. I can't have that hanging over my head. I can't be the reason you didn't reach your full potential. I'd rather you not see me again than for you to wreck your career because you love me. This is your big chance. You can't blow it because of me. And it's not like I'm making such a big sacrifice in my own career to get out of Chicago for a year. I need to get some money from somewhere or I'll have the collection agencies down my throat." Slowly Amy began to realize that Paul was right. He was looking out for himself as well as for her. She had been somewhat aware of his financial problems. By now she easily had the money necessary to pay his college expenses, but she also knew that there was no way he would accept an offer from her to help him financially. Now he had found his own way to solve his financial situation. Amy respected him for that. Whatever else might happen in their futures, Amy had the assurance that Paul would never try to live off her. For a long time Paul and Amy sat quietly, holding on to each other. Finally they calmed down enough to deal with their immediate problem, filling out Amy's scholarship packet. Paul got a butter knife out of the kitchen, held it to the flap of one of Amy's envelopes with paperwork, and cut it open. He passed the open envelope to Amy and cut open the others. With the envelopes opened Amy now was committed. She was going to London, no matter what. Paul felt a huge sense of relief, mixed with huge sadness, as he watched Amy pull the papers out of the first envelope he had cut open for her. He passed her a pen. ---------- The next day Amy was in Burnside's office. For some reason she felt the urge to confide her doubts with her professor, even though the paperwork was filled out and back in Burnside's file cabinet. Amy told Burnside about her doubts, the fact she initially decided not to go, and the fact that Paul had forced her to change her mind by joining the Army Reserves. Burnside looked at Amy intently and listened with interest, but not with her usual fierce expression. She had suspected that Amy would have a hard time accepting the offer because of Paul. Burnside thought about Amy's boyfriend. He loved Amy enough to worry about what was good for her. He loved her enough to sacrifice a year from his own life to assure that Amy could reach her full potential. Burnside already had a favorable opinion of Paul prior to this morning. For a political science student he was respectable, even if he was committed to majoring in a field of fluff. Now Burnside saw Paul's true inner strength. He really would do anything for Amy, including let her go. Burnside hoped that the relationship between Paul and Amy could weather this year of separation. If Paul and Amy could get back together after a year of separate experiences, their relationship would something special indeed. Burnside was relieved that it was Paul, not Amy, who settled the situation. Amy would be forced to complete her year in Britain, because until next July, she would not have Paul to go back to. More importantly, Amy had faced and overcome her doubts here, instead of confronting them in London. Amy truly was ready to go. ---------- Wendy spent June and July repairing the relationship with her parents. At first her father seemed more willing to treat her normally than her mother. Wendy's mother still was convinced that the best thing for Wendy would be for her to return to Taipei and find a husband through her uncle. To the surprise of both Wendy and her mother, Wendy's father disagreed. Her father insisted that Wendy needed to begin training to take over the family business immediately. Wendy was shocked when, within a week of her return from Europe, her father asked her to accompany him to work. He opened his books to her, tried to figure out what Wendy already had picked up in her classes, and began to explain the day-to-day operations of his business transactions. Wendy spent 14-hour days with her father throughout the first half of the summer. They worked together seven days per week as Wendy's knowledge of business quickly surpassed anything she could have picked up in her classes. There was urgency in her father's behavior as her pushed her to learn what she would need to know to take over. There was no hint of his reluctance to have a woman run his business, no comments about women's incompetence about money. There was no mention of Wendy's foray into gambling the previous year. What Wendy did not know was that her father had visited her great grandmother's fortune teller while she was in Europe. The fortune teller told Wendy's father that an unnamed disaster was about to strike down the family. Wendy finally broke away from her father on the last day of June to spend an afternoon with Amy. Wendy's first task was to turn in the final set of her comic strip drawings to Suzanne for publication. After having lunch with Suzanne and Robert they went to Robert's office to get Wendy's jewelry back. With her pendent around her neck and her ring and earrings back on, Wendy knew that her crisis had passed. Amy was happy to sign the paperwork ending her power of attorney arrangement over Wendy's finances. Wendy looked with surprise at her balance when Amy handed her checkbook back. Amy had done an excellent job in managing the paychecks from Wendy's book and her art. "I need to talk to my father to see what he thinks I should do with this." There was no indication that Wendy would squander her latest income. She truly had recovered from her gambling addiction enough that she could now control her urges. After lunch, Amy and Wendy went for a walk along the lakeshore downtown . Amy noticed how much Wendy had changed from last year as they walked next to the shore, enjoying the breeze from the water. Wendy seemed happy, but also driven and determined. She had changed, and with Amy headed to Europe, they would be going their separate ways. Both Wendy and Amy felt a sense of regret that the paths of their lives would soon separate them, but each held a special place in her heart and her memories for the other. They stopped on the sidewalk in a spot where they had a rail to lean on, and for a long time looked out over the lake and the boats clustered along the shore. Wendy finally spoke, her voice full of emotion. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 27 "I want to thank you for everything you've done for me. I suppose I've been a difficult friend to you. I haven't done anything to make your life easier, I'm afraid." "You're forgetting about all the help you gave me with my math. I couldn't have gotten as far as I did without you helping me. You were there for me more than you realize." Amy paused, searching for the right words to express her feelings towards Wendy. Finally she added, "Maybe you didn't make my life any easier, but you've made my life much fuller, and that's what matters." ---------- Two weeks later Wendy took another break from her father and his business tutoring to spend a day with Amy and Suzanne for their final photo shoot together. Suzanne had three cameras with her. Suzanne knew of a small isolated beach in southern Wisconsin to do a photo shoot next to Lake Michigan. Amy and Wendy undressed and ran though the shallow water together. They laughed and splashed at each other like small children. They hugged each other while standing on a rock. A short distance away there was an abandoned dock, and the two models spent a long time walking up and down the dock and sitting together, dipping their toes in the water. After nearly three hours of shooting in the warm sunlight, they went back to the isolated cove for lunch. Suzanne had brought a blanket and a picnic basket. Neither Amy nor Wendy had a desire to get dressed; they were enjoying the feel of the warm sun on their bodies too much. However, Wendy was not ready to eat. She had a surprise for Suzanne. "Suzanne, I want you to take off your clothes." "What?" "I want your clothes off and I want you to put film in your cameras for me. It's your turn to pose." Suzanne got undressed. She was not modest about her body, but she never spent time undressed outside. Her skin was white, contrasting with Amy's deep tan and Wendy's natural brown color. Suzanne loaded film in her cameras, handed them to Wendy, and stepped towards the water. She stood at the water-line, quietly contemplating the lake and the boats way off in the distance. Wendy handed two of the cameras to Amy, and started photographing Suzanne with the camera she still had in her hands. Amy realized that Wendy had a clear idea of what she wanted from the photos. "Suzanne, kneel." Surprised at the commanding tone in Wendy's voice, Suzanne sank to her knees on the sand. Wendy got on one knee to bring the camera even with Suzanne's face. Suddenly Amy put one of the cameras in her hand to her own face and started taking pictures of Wendy photographing Suzanne. The contrast between Wendy's dark skin and Suzanne's white skin would make the picture special, Amy thought. Wendy spoke again. "OK, Suzanne, lie flat on your stomach. I want you to look out at the water, then back to me." Suzanne complied, still a bit disoriented at the sudden role-reversal between herself and Wendy. Wendy captured the uncertainty in Suzanne's eyes. Suzanne then walked into the water to rinse off the sand, and Wendy photographed her as she came out. Wendy passed the camera back to Amy to reload while Suzanne dried off. Wendy then asked Suzanne to walk out to the dock. Suzanne complied as Wendy took several pictures standing on the end looking over the water. They ate a quiet, peaceful lunch. None of them had any desire to get dressed. Suzanne stood up and took a picture of Amy and Wendy on the blanket, then Amy asked for the camera and took one of Suzanne and Wendy. It was with huge sadness that the three women folded up the blanket, for they realized this was it, the final photo shoot. Before they got dressed and left, Suzanne asked her models to pose one last time on the beach. Their eyes were full of emotion and sadness. Amy and Wendy threw their arms around each other and Suzanne snapped the picture. Then Amy and Wendy, holding hands, separated a little and turned to face Suzanne. All of their emotion came out in their expressions. They were not crying, but the deep sadness of their impending separation was clearly visible in their faces. Suzanne snapped three more pictures and ran out of film. That was the end. Amy and Wendy had finished posing for Suzanne for the last time. The week before Amy was due to leave for London, Wendy's family was hit with the crisis foreseen by her father's fortune teller, a crisis that took her to Taiwan and out of Amy's life for good. Wendy's oldest cousin had bought a new sports car and started racing it along the coast south of Taipei. While driving with Wendy's other cousin he miscalculated a curve and smashed straight into a truck. Wendy was now the only member of her family's younger generation still alive to take over both the Taiwan and US parts of the business. Her uncle and father discussed what to do with Wendy and their operations. Finally Wendy herself decided to go to Taiwan and take over from her uncle. After talking to him and her father, she realized that her uncle was so distraught over the loss of his sons he seemed not to be able to think straight. Wendy ended up going back to Taiwan as her mother wanted, but on her own terms. There was no arranged marriage waiting for her. She immediately took over from her uncle until he could recover from the loss of her cousins. She worked 16 hours per day, seven days per week, as she learned what she needed to do to handle the Asian portion of her family's operations. Her drawing came to an abrupt stop; she no longer had time to do anything other than work and sleep. Wendy never finished her degree. It would be many years before she would be able to return to the US. She never saw Amy or Suzanne again. ---------- Amy's impending departure and the loss of Wendy as her model forced Suzanne to reconsider her own life. It no longer made any sense for her to keep an apartment near the university. She was having to commute to both her studio and her publishing house and was getting tired of dealing with Chicago traffic. The apartment had too many memories anyway and Suzanne had no desire to stay in it after Amy left. She would miss Amy tremendously and could not bear the thought of looking at her empty room. Suzanne decided that it was time for Robert and her to get married. She wanted to do it so that Amy could be her maid-of-honor, which meant the wedding would have to take place sometime before the second week of August. Just after the final photo-shoot with Wendy and Amy, Suzanne, with her heart pounding, slipped Robert's old wedding ring out of his jewelry box to measure his ring size for a new one. She took it to a jeweler and had a new one made, a simple gold band, and a matching one for herself. That night she slipped the old wedding ring back in its box. She nerved herself for the next task in her life, proposing to Robert. Two nights later, on a hot summer's evening, Suzanne and Robert walked along the shore close to his office. Suzanne was wearing a short skirt due to the heat. The change made her look strange to Robert, who was used to seeing his girlfriend in her loose ankle-length skirts. It was too hot, however, for Suzanne's usual attire. With this heat even Suzanne was forced to dress for the weather. She was trying to figure out how to begin. Finally she said. "Robert, I have something to tell you. A couple of days ago I borrowed your old wedding ring to get your ring measurements for a new one. I put it back without you knowing. But I have a set of wedding rings in my pocket." Robert paused. Wedding rings. In Suzanne's pocket. He looked at Suzanne. That was the strangest proposal he had ever heard, but he could tell that Suzanne was very nervous. He took her hands and looked into her eyes. He had wanted to propose to her for a while. She beat him to it. "Suzanne, I would be very happy to put my ring on...and to see yours on your finger as well." Suzanne looked at Robert happily but with a lot of anxiety. Her hands shook as she dug into her skirt pocket to get the rings out. She put Robert's ring on him, then he took hers and put it on her finger. They threw their arms around each other, on a busy sidewalk in plain view of one of the busiest city streets in the US. ---------- They were married only four days before Amy had to leave for London. Neither Robert nor Suzanne had the sort of personality to tolerate a large elaborate wedding, even though they had the money for it. In the end only the people closest to Robert and Suzanne were invited, a total of about 40. The staff from Robert's office were there, as were Suzanne's closest friends from the art department and a couple of physical therapists. Her editor was present. Suzanne's stepmother also was there. Paul took the pictures. The only important person from Suzanne's life missing from her wedding was Wendy; she already had left for Taiwan. Suzanne gladly gave up her maiden name. She did not even want it as part of her name at all after she married. She wanted nothing to associate her with her father. For the rest of her life she would be Suzanne Johnson. Amy was Suzanne's maid of honor. They married in the same church that Amy's parents were married in, many years ago when Robert, still school, had been best man for Amy's father. The ceremony was simple, to the point, and full of emotion. Robert's law partner, the one who had defended Amy in court over two years ago, caught the bouquet. The wedding party was small enough that the entire group could fit in Robert's apartment for the reception. The only thing Robert did spend money on was top quality food and drinks for his guests. The mix of law firm employees and art students was a strange one, but made for an interesting evening. Amy saw one thing that evening that shocked her. A hippyish male art professor of Suzanne spent the entire evening talking to Robert's law partner, the sharp-witted female attorney. They seemed to be attracted to each other, something confirmed to Amy when they slipped out together without saying goodbye to anyone other than Robert. Amy shook her head. I guess opposites do attract, she thought to herself. The wedding did earn a footnote in the Chicago celebrity pages. Suzanne was just famous enough that the art press was interested in the fact that she had married, to the point that she provided reporters with a couple of Paul's pictures of the wedding for publication. The art critics speculated about Suzanne's future, now that she was the wife of a lawyer. Suzanne's editor assured the press that her work continued and discussed a couple of her recently finished projects. Robert would continue to have his law practice and be successful in his own field, but as his wife's career took off, over time he had to get used to being known as, and being referred to as, "Suzanne's husband". ---------- The day after the wedding the movers came to take Suzanne's furniture to Robert's apartment and Amy's things back into storage with her father's furniture. Their apartment was emptied in a few hours. Amy went back to Robert's apartment with Suzanne to oversee the delivery of her furniture. Robert had given Suzanne to go-ahead to re-arrange the apartment as she saw fit, asking only that she not touch his books or anything in the room he used as an office. Suzanne moved her furniture in and banished some of Robert's pieces to the storage facility where Amy had her things and her father's furniture. Amy agreed that the apartment looked considerably nicer with Suzanne's furniture. She had good taste in both furniture and decorating. Robert had no taste at all, good or bad, so he simply deferred to what Suzanne wanted. Suzanne did not touch Tricia's things, but Robert had packed up her clothes and most of her memorabilia before the wedding, leaving only a couple of pictures in his office. He finally was over her. Tricia's infamous strap and cuffs went into one of the boxes with her other belongings. There was no way that strap would ever be used on Suzanne's bottom while she was married to Robert. Paul and Amy then went back to her empty apartment to clean up and collect the few things overlooked by the movers. Amy walked through the rooms one last time, closed the door to each one, and sadly walked out the front door. She was scared about not being able to live with Suzanne upon coming back from London. ---------- Paul and Amy stayed the next two nights with Robert and Suzanne. Amy and Paul slept in the guest bedroom, the same room Amy had slept when she first stayed with Robert nearly three years ago. Amy was glad that in this room at least, Suzanne had not objected to the furniture and had left everything in place. The memories were still there, the memories of the month she spent in this room pulling herself out of the abyss she had fallen into with Courtney. As they lay in her bed Amy tried to explain to Paul her time at Robert's apartment and what it meant to just live in peace for a few weeks after the turmoil she had just endured. The day before her departure Amy asked Paul to take her back to her father's grave. Paul left her alone for a while as Amy contemplated what had happened between herself and her father. She could not undo what she had done. She could not bring him back. She could not cancel out the pain that she had caused him during the final months of his life. She could, however, live her life to the fullest, and be what every parent should want for their child, a happy, successful person. Amy finally was ready to forgive herself for her father's death. If she could make a success out of herself, he would live on through her. The Wanderings of Amy Ch. 28 Chapter 28 -- Epilogue Ruth Burnside did not return to her classes in the fall. Being one of the first voices against the abuses being committed in the stock market, several Illinois state legislators decided to nominate her to lead a commission studying the effects of the recent corporate scandals on state pension and school funds. Burnside, in her new role, was vicious to anyone who tried to avoid telling her the truth. CEO's were afraid of the former professor and her ability to remember their words and twist confessions out of them. Burnside was noticed in Washington, and before long started testifying before Congress. The Illinois congressional delegation asked her to lead several national-level investigations. Finally, her position became permanent and she answered directly to Congress. In London, Amy felt real pride when she read the following article: Illinois securities investigator to head SEC probes. Controversial Illinois securities investigator, Dr. Ruth Burnside, will lead a series of probes into alleged insider trading at the national level. The former Chicago economics professor was appointed to her current position over the objections of several major corporations. Dr. Burnside, nicknamed 'Ruthless' Burnside, is credited with the recovery of $ 65 million for Illinois pension funds from several current and former CEO's. She has been widely praised for her meticulous investigations and knowledge of the Internet. However, she also has drawn criticism for her confrontational tactics. 'Yes, I confront' said the former professor in a recent interview. 'I go for the throat. I don't have time to deal with people's bull**** and lies. I want the truth, and I want it now. And if they can't remember, well, I make them remember. That's the point of investigating first and doing your homework.' Several Illinois representatives expressed their hope that the Dr. Burnside can accomplish the same results at the national level that she accomplished in Illinois... Burnside's enemies researched her past, which turned out to be quite scandalous. They allowed rumors about her to circulate on the Hill, hoping to turn her into an embarrassment for the congressmen who had nominated her and voted for her. Finally a couple of House members, on behalf of their corporate backers, raised the issue of Burnside's moral character in committee. There were dark stories of parties in Chicago and multiple lovers, men and women. Burnside, in front of 30 House members and several reporters, momentarily shocked Washington by doing something unheard of, telling the truth. Glaring at her critics with her typical cold stare she said... "You are asking me about my morality, and you mean my sexual morality to be specific. If you believe my sex life is relevant to the investigations I am conducting, Mr. Representative, then I will be happy to answer. Let's get the issue on the table, consider it, and move on." Burnside then surprised the committee by pulling out her stack of underground magazines. She passed them to a congressional staff member who turned them over to the committee. "I'm giving you some of my writings on my sexual preferences. There's a couple of stories, and the other pieces are opinion columns. I tabbed the articles for you. It doesn't seem to me that your quote, investigation, unquote, turned these up, even though they're publications. I believe that some of your questions will be answered in these articles. It'll save me from having to talk so much." The committee clearly was caught off-guard. They had expected to slowly pick Burnside apart, to listen to her denials and then refute them with overwhelming evidence. Instead, Burnside had taken the offensive. She smiled internally as she contemplated the stacks of folders her critics had in front of them, all evidence against her, so it seemed. Burnside's next statement rendered most of that material useless. "If I may continue, I have three issues in my life which have been the source of the rumors about me. First, I love sex. I have had many lovers, including women. I don't deny that. Second, I am into fetish. I wear leather outfits at costume parties and beat people's asses. I don't deny that. Third, I bore an illegitimate child, and gave her up for adoption. It is because of my love of sex and a moment of personal irresponsibility that I became pregnant, while on active duty in the Navy. I do not know who my child's father was, because I had three lovers at the time. I paid for my mistake by having a daughter I could not keep. I don't deny that. I accepted responsibility for my actions, and did what I felt was best for myself and the child at the time." "Now, Mr. Representative, if you wish to explore my sexual life further, I would ask you to first explain how what I do with my sexual partners influences economic policy. If I understand how my personal life relates to the corporate abuses I am investigating, I will be glad to answer any questions you chose to ask." With that Burnside's eyes bore into her critic. The cameras flashed at both her and the panel. "Ms. Burnside! I am asking the questions here, not you!" "Excuse me, Mr. Representative. I have a doctorate. I would appreciate it if you'd refer to me by my proper title. Again I ask you to explain to me, and to the public please, why you need this information on my personal life, and then I will answer..." she concluded with a cold, sarcastic smile "...in all the detail you want." The Representative suddenly began to sweat. "Uh...well, Dr. Burnside, I am trying to determine whether you have the moral character to question others. I think that is as good a reason as any..." "I have the moral character to have tried to tell people the truth about what was happening with the IPO's. I was right, and had anyone listened, a lot of investors would still have their money. I had the moral character not to care about my popularity when I saw what was going to happen to telecommunications. People did not like me because I told the truth as I saw it, but subsequent events proved me right. That is how I got here in the first place. As for my personal life, I have the moral character to not be ashamed of anything I have done. Most of it's there in those magazines. Read it, and then tell me if I've done anything other than exercise my freedom as an American citizen." Burnside's answers made headlines for a day. There was no further point in dredging up the sorted details of her life. She exposed them herself and was somewhat "in your face" about her presumed moral shortcomings. She was perfectly willing to answer any question posed to her, as long as the questioner could explain why her sex life was relevant. The problem for Burnside's critics was that her sexual life was not relevant to anything, and the public knew it. Had she attempted to hide anything, her critics could have taken her down in a heartbeat. However, there was no point investigating facts that Burnside herself was quite open about. She could not be intimidated or blackmailed. Burnside kept her job in Washington, although from that point forward cartoonists usually portrayed her in black, wielding a whip. She became a rogue hero for thousands of investors who had lost their money in the recent stock crashes. She also became a convenient political lighting rod and lurched from fight to fight and controversy to controversy, loving every minute of it. ---------- A year went by. Amy and Paul had rough lives for different reasons. Paul 's time in the Army started with nine very unpleasant weeks in the late summer heat of central Missouri, being shouted at by drill sergeants who had barely finished high school. In Basic Training Paul had a rude shock. He had to accept the fact that no matter how smart he was in college and in his outside world, in the Army he was no better than anyone else. He had to learn to march, to shoot, to crawl, and to polish floors from scratch. His college education was of no use to him, other than getting him a higher rank and thus more visibility with the drill sergeants, something he did not want at that point in his life. After Basic Training Paul studied communications and then went to Monterey, California, to study Spanish. He enjoyed Monterey. Paul had expected that his entire year would be difficult, but once Basic Training was out of the way, his day-to-day existence became quite pleasant. On his free weekends he occasionally rented a car and drove along the California Coast, enjoying the spectacular scenery and rocky beaches. Amy studied continuously in London. She had to give up exercising and put on 15 pounds during her year there. She continuously had to prove herself to her European classmates and professors. Because they looked down upon her for being an American, Amy was forced to be the best and the most diligent in her classes to earn the respect of the others. In the end she managed to impress everyone she came across. She acquired a long list of contacts and references, as well as a comprehensive understanding of the European economic situation. Her knowledge gave her the topics and much of the research she later used to write both her Master's thesis and dissertation in the years to come. She saw very little of Europe, other than the places she went to attend seminars. Burnside had been right in telling her this would not be a fun trip. It would have been nice to say that Amy and Paul were loyal to their relationship during their time apart, but that was not true for either of them. They were two young, lonely people with healthy bodies that rebelled against their isolation. In London Amy had two brief relationships. In the end, however, she was not attracted to British men because they all smoked. When in high school Amy herself had smoked, but was forced to quit when she and Courtney ran out of money in Detroit. Like many ex-smokers, she was sensitive to cigarette smoke and it made her sick. Kissing someone with cigarette smoke on his breath disgusted Amy. She could not handle the smell of tobacco on her lovers, and was alone when her time in London ended. Paul's infidelity was more serious. He did not expect to be tempted while in the Army. However, in Monterey there was a short, attractive Hispanic private with the last name Padilla, from the nearby town of Salinas. Padilla was just out of high school and had enlisted in the Regular Army. She had her pick of the guys in Monterey, but she liked Paul because he was different from the others. Paul was attracted to her immediately. They went out into Monterey and to Padilla's home in Salinas, where Paul met her family and ate Mexican food. Padilla's long black hair and dark body fascinated him. For a long time he forgot all about Amy, except to answer her letters. About three months before his time in Monterey ended, he came very close to writing Amy to tell her that their relationship had ended. He decided to wait, and ultimately was very glad he did. Padilla finished her language studies and was attached to a unit in Germany. Now Paul had two long-distance relationships he was trying to maintain. However, with both Amy and Padilla at a distance, Paul could look at them clearly and realized that it was Amy who was in his future, not Padilla. Amy was just about to come back, whereas Padilla had just left. Paul's second thoughts about Padilla were confirmed only a month after she left for Germany, when she wrote him a "Dear John" letter. The letter did not upset Paul at all. It was a huge relief to him that the issue of Amy and Padilla was settled. ---------- Paul made it back to Pennsylvania only a day before Amy got back to Chicago. He drove overnight to be at O'Hare in time to see her get off the plane, not even having time to change out of his uniform. He met up with Robert and a very-pregnant Suzanne at the airport. When Amy got off the plane she was not looking her best. She was out of shape from not having worked out, pale from having spent most of the past year indoors, and tired from the flight. Paul on the other hand, looked great in his uniform and from having been on active duty for a year. They embraced, but Paul's surprise at Amy's appearance and Amy's disorientation at seeing Paul in a uniform indicated that there were difficult times ahead for them. They realized that they had become strangers. Amy temporarily stayed with Robert and Suzanne, but ultimately had to find a place closer to the university, as did Paul. It would have seemed logical that Amy and Paul would live together, but they decided not to. They had to start their relationship from scratch and get to know each other all over again. Paul finally moved in with another Reservist from his unit and Amy rented her own apartment with some of her modeling money. Paul and Amy did not realize how difficult getting back together would be. At the beginning they felt very awkward around each other. They had spent a year apart, experiencing totally different things in life. Their lives had changed. The old landmarks in their lives were gone and they had to establish new ones. They even decided to put off having sex, until they could re-establish the other parts of their relationship. Over time Paul and Amy spent more and more time with each other and gradually the old feelings came back. It was a slow process, but they were determined to put the past year behind them and make their relationship work, if at all possible. They began by returning to the university gym. Amy was in horrible physical shape in comparison with how she had been a year ago. Like her relationship with Paul, she had to restore her workout routine from scratch. She felt intimidated by Paul's fitness and her own flabbiness. However, Paul was patient with her in the gym and gradually Amy began to tone her body again. They went out to different campus activities and foreign movies. Amy was able to get Paul caught up on events in Europe. Amy's feelings towards Paul finally recovered when she went through reverse culture shock about two months after getting back. Paul's experience in France came in handy to help him understand what Amy was going through. When Amy wanted to talk about Britain, he was there to listen, and could make comparisons with his time in France. Paul was the only person who understood Amy at that point in her life, since neither Robert nor Suzanne had lived abroad. ---------- Amy and Paul spent Thanksgiving apart, mostly because Amy needed to spend time with Suzanne. Amy went to Robert and Suzanne's apartment for Thanksgiving dinner while Paul went back to Pennsylvania. When dinner was over Robert had to take off to his office and meet up with his two partners. The appeal for his huge liability case was looming, a case which had captured national attention and had turned into a major class-action litigation battle. Robert's absence gave Amy and Suzanne the chance to spend some badly needed time together. It was the first chance that Amy had to talk at length to her since coming back. Suzanne took a couple of portraits of Amy and they talked about Amy modeling again once she finished getting back into shape. Suzanne then excused herself to dig out the collections of pictures she had taken with new models over the past year to show Amy. Momentarily alone, Amy looked out the dining room window. Suddenly Suzanne's baby began to protest having been put down in his crib. Amy picked up the newest member of the Johnson family and walked back to the window. As she looked into the child's face she thought about her life's strange journey, and how different she was from whom she had been the first day she stood at this window, now almost four years ago. Suzanne came back out with a couple of portfolios. She saw Amy holding her son, and joined her friend at the window. For a long time they stood together in silence, neither wanting to be the first to speak. They looked at the baby asleep in Amy's arms, content to share this quiet moment with each other. ---------- By Christmas vacation Amy and Paul finally had re-established the love and passion they had felt for each other before Amy went to London and Paul went in the Army. The final step was for each of them to come clean about the relationships they had the year they were apart. Somehow each was comforted that the other had been unfaithful, since they both had been struggling with guilt over their outside relationships. Amy and Paul each had faults and weaknesses, but now they could admit that about themselves and concentrate on what was really important. What mattered was that they could put their pasts behind them and look forward to the future with each other. The fall semester ended. Only one more to go, and then they would graduate, both of them in May. Amy went to Paul's house for Christmas. She had not seen his family for a year and a half. There were changes in the household, all of which she was glad to see. The most important change Amy noticed was in Paul's sister Julie. She now was over half-way through the degree she needed to get a teaching certificate. Besides her studies, Julie had a part-time job at a day-care center. Amy had changed Julie's life, first by motivating her to study, then by forcing Paul to help her that one critical semester with the money from the clothing shoot. At her young age Amy had the satisfaction of having influenced at least one person's life in a very positive way. After Christmas dinner Julie wanted Amy to pose for a picture with Paul's nephew, who now was almost six. Then Paul took a picture of Amy and Julie together. Amy realized that she no longer was alone in the world. She had lost her family, but eventually would become part of another. She had a future with Paul and would enjoy the companionship of likables. Amy knew that eventually she and Paul would have children of their own, although that would not be for a while. Graduate school lay ahead for both of them, as did the beginnings of their careers and spending a lot of time doing fun things together. Later in the afternoon Paul and Amy walked through his desolate town, holding hands. It was a bleak overcast day in a bleak empty town, yet her surroundings did not depress Amy in the least. She was immensely happy. She knew that a pleasant, fulfilling life lay ahead of her. Amy felt a deep satisfaction that her wanderings were far from over, and that she alone would determine where those wanderings would take her.