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.

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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.

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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.

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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?"

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."

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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."

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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."

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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."

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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.

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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.