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Subject: {ASSM} Frontier Discipline, 1898 (M/f, f/f, M/ff, school spanking, sex,
Date: Mon, 25 Sep 2000 18:10:11 -0400
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all the usual disclaimers, including your consent to read stories of a
sexual nature, your ability to stomach girl-girl sex, schoolmaster
discipline rituals, and sex between adults and children, are applied
herewith to this work. it is intended as fiction, and should be taken as
such. the author does not advocate such activities as are described
herein. the author does, however, find them damned stimulating, and
doesn't mind saying so. 
pursuant to the berne convention, thank goodness for that little number,
this work is not to be reproduced or disseminated or any other way
handled without the express consent of the author. or something. 
comments are welcome, and in fact, solicited.

***********************************************'FRONTIER DISCIPLINE,
1898

by brian kabler, 2000

***********************************************

     When I accepted the position of schoolmaster to twenty-odd children
in Apple Falls, Idaho (noting the name's inherent pun, I wondered if it
was intentional), I certainly never expected to be bewitched by a
sixteen-year-old nymphet to such an extent that I would spirit her away
from her family in the dead of night and spend the balance of my life
worshipping her mind and body on a daily basis.

No, I didn't plan to fall in love with a girl ten years younger then I.
At the most I might have entertained vague notions of finding some
complacent, not-bad-looking young woman of about my age and settling
down to have children and watch the apples fall.

But instead of anything resembling that level so domestic contentedness,
I find that I am more alive that ever before and certainly more
inspired. And it is all because of my stint as a schoolmaster in an
obscure Idaho town. And as I write this in the Paris summer of 1910, I
find that I feel better than my thirty-eight years should allow. But I
have boundless energy, and it is because of her.

The first time I saw her, I was sitting behind the rickety desk in the
one-room schoolhouse, glancing at the impossibly diverse assortment of
names and ages on the sheet give me by the town's well-intentioned but
fantastically irritating mayor, a blithering idiot who was oblivious to
his habit of patting you on the shoulder to emphasize whatever point he
was making.

I glanced up from the roll sheet to give a stern look to a pair of
eleven-year-old boys who were, seemingly out of character, early for
school, according to my ancient timepiece. They had the look of brash
troublemakers, and were whispering to one another excitedly in a manner
which, when coupled with their frequent glances at the pretty, quiet
redhead of about sixteen in front of them, led me to believe that the
whispering involved some sort of malevolent gesture toward her. 

They quickly dropped their reciprcal smirks when i glanced at them, and
even exchanged a look of dumbfounded amazemet, as if to say to one
another, "how did he know what we were talking about?" 

Anway, as I was scanning the faces of the other students, trying to
determine how many of them looked to be old enough to attempt to teach
them history (my strong suit) and if any of them looked like little
backwoods mathematicians in the rough (I abhor mathematics, and will be
glad when the day comes that someone can make a machine to do the
counting), I saw her. 

She walked into the one-room thinktank in a green dress that clung to
her developing figure in a manner that seemed out of place among so
little sophistication. Schoolgirl garments then and now tend to be a
little more shapeless; somehow, her tiny figure was brutally obvious
underneath the dress. Her hair was cornsilk and her breasts were
teacups. Her legs, smooth and supple, emerged from the dress and looked
delicious. Her hazel eyes danced, and her deliberate gait made her seem
just a trifle annoyed, as if she didn't want to be at school on such a
lovely October day.

She gave me only a passing glance, disinterested at best, and sat down
on the third-row bench hip-to-hip with the redhead, who suddenly became
animated and began whispering to the newcomer.

Looking at the roll sheet, I deduced that,  with her Irish looks and the
quick temper I sensed behind her precious eyes, she could only be Hayley
O'Rourke. I had already deduced that the redhead was Nora McNeely
because of the younger, redheaded boy she had come in with, who was
listed on the roll as Noah McNeely.

At any rate, I wouldn't have to wonder much longer, because my aged
swiss pocketwatch read nine o'clock, so I rose and cleared my throat,
watching them snap to attention and begin to assess me, their new
teacher, whom they were certain would do a better job of keeping order
than Miss Pickens, the old spinster the little heathens had finally
driven mad the previous year.

"Good morning, children," I began. Without really waiting for the
obligatory response, I launched into a brief pep talk along the lines of
"let's be friends", "let's enjoy learning," and my personal favorite,
"let's all be considerate of one another", which was as futile an
aspiration for a group of mixed-age kids as could possibly exist.

"And, just so there's no mistaking my good nature for a man of loose
disciplinary standards, let me assure each of you that if I have to
require you to stay after class for misbehavior or failure to complete
assignments, there will be serious punishment involved. So let's all
remember that any behavior that does not contribute toward learning and
growth will be considered misbehavior." 

I let that sink in for a moment.

"Do you all understand me?"

They murmured a disappointed "yes", and with that I began explaining the
method I planned to undertake to structure the lessons for the different
grade levels. They seemed to listen fairly attentively, and I was
thrilled. Perhaps, it seemed, they might be well-behaved and alert on a
regular basis, which might even mean that I would feel as though i were
accomplishing something other than killing time out here in godforsaken
Idaho.

Several times while I was outlining the plan, I noticed Hayley
whispering to Nora, and each time i fixed my gaze on her in a way that
seemed to buy about six minutes of attention, after which she returned
to whispering. She obviously was excited about whatever she was saying,
and the glow of her smile made it clear that there must be a boy
involved. One of the other schoolchildren, a couple of whom were about
her age. Nora seemed relutcant to devote her attention to Hayley's
whispers, but not out of disinterest; she seemed to be more chastened by
my looks of reproach than her friend, and was actually TRYING to pay
attention. 

I decided at that point to make an example of Hayley if my latest stern
look didn't seem to have lasting effect; it was hardly no surprise when
it didn't.

Withing minutes, she was animatedly whispering to Nora again when she
thought I was so involved in my attempt to assess the reading abilities
of the children on the opposite side of the room that I wouldn't notice.
But my peripheral vision is remarkable, and I let her whisper away for
about nine seconds before saying, without even glancing over in her
direction, "Miss O'Rourke, please see me after class."

There was an audible collective gasp from the other children, on whom my
earlier lecture about the hazards of being asked to stay over hadn't
been entirely lost. Hayley turned bright red, and looked at her shoes as
the soft snickers resonated from her classmates. "Yes sir," she murmured
weakly. She was very embarassed, and I thought to myself that I would
probably be able to simply scare her into submission with a few threats
of corporal punishment, without actually having to spank her, which is
something I've always avoided have to do unless I deemed it absolutely
necessary. I don't like to humiliate a child in that manner, and it
seems so uncivilized. Yet many times I have been forced by the behaviour
of my pupils to administer paddlings to elicit cooperation. And it
usually works; a few well-placed swats from my thin, sturdy oak paddle
gives enough of a sting that the student is usually very reluctant to
require its further application.

Nonetheless, I try to avoid it, and I decided to simply try to scare
Hayley a little and enlist her cooperation in scaring the other kids a
little. I decided to make Hayley think she was going to be spanked, and
then let her out of it on two conditions: one, that she give me not a
single ounce of further trouble, and two, that she let the other
children think she had been spanked, so they would believe I meant
business.

For the remainder of the day, Hayley seemed preoccupied by the thought
of her impending punishment. She never met my eye as I talked to the
class, looking away whenever I looked in her direction. I almost felt
sorry for her, but I knew that she would actually learn her lesson for
the mere anticipation of the punishment, which would make the punishment
itself obsolete.

When two o'clock arrived, I dismissed the rest of the students and
busied myself at my desk, waiting for them to clear out of the
schoolhouse. Hayley seemed beside herself with fear, and she said
goodbye to Nora as if she would never see her again. I couldn't quite
hear what she was saying, but it seemed to involve a rendezvous
somewhere after I finished with Hayley. Nora left, leaving us alone in
the classroom. 

I came around from behind desk and looked at her. She was a beautiful
child; even though she seemed fearful right now, it was easy to see that
she was a fun-loving lass who liked to laugh and sing. But right now she
seemed very repentant, with a cloud of dread hanging over her little
blonde head.

"Now Miss O'Rourke," I began, speaking firmly but softly in attempt to
make her feel a little more comfortable. "I think you are a very bright
girl, and it is obvious to me that the lack of discipline of Miss
Pickens' way of doing things has gotten you a little spoiled. I said at
the beginning of class that I would not tolerate bad behaviour, and yet
you whispered relentlessly every time you thought my back was turned." I
paused to let this sink in. Hayley was positively squirming now, her
eyes watching me, although I knew that her mind was already envisioning
herself being spanked by me.

"I am going to offer you a compromise, Miss O'Rourke," I continued.
"Would that prospect interest you?"

She sensed a glimmer of hope. "Yes sir," she said quickly.

"I see. That's good. Miss O'Rourke, I can see that you have spent the
afternoon living your punishment in your mind. You have, haven't you?"

She looked embarrassed, but nodded slowly. "I thought as much," I
continued. "So what I am offering you, Miss O'Rourke, is an opportunity
to escape the spanking you clearly have earned. If you do not do as I
instruct you, you will recieve the original spanking for whispering to
Nora, plus an extra set of licks with a switch for violating our
agreement. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," she said, rather eagerly, her sunny disposition returning. 

"Very well," I said. "You are to refuse to discuss the details of this
meeting with any student who asks. You are to let them think that you
were punished as I told you you would be. That way, the rest of your
classmates will learn from your example, and no one will be the wiser.
Do you understand this? I want us to be absolutely clear on this
matter."

"Yes sir, I understand. And thank you. I promise I'll be good from now
on!"

"All right," I said, "but I warn you, you must keep your end of the
bargain, or I will make certain you regret it. That is all. You are
dismissed."

"Thank you, Mr. Van Owen! You won't have any more trouble out of me. I
swear!"

And she was gone, blonde hair bouncing as she went down the steps, the
hem of her skirt fluttering just enough to alow a peek at her upper
thighs as she disappeared into the Idaho afternoon.

***********************************************
TO BE CONTINUED
***********************************************

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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