The Tutor


Roland Archer checked his watch again. Everyone was late and he could not abide tardiness.

“Have you any idea why your mother is so late Karen?” Roland asked his young student as she stood in the corner.

“No sir.” Karen replied crisply. Slightly apprehensive that he might in some way hold her responsible.

“I have another student at three. Or at least I was supposed to have had.” Roland explained. “It is a quarter past now.”

Tell me about it, thought Karen. She had been standing in the corner of Mr Archer’s study since two o’clock when he had finally finished metering out her straightener for the week. Mother was particular about that. Even when Karen hadn’t dropped her grades or been late, the arrangement with Mr Archer, her tutor, required a firm dozen across the bare once a week. But mother was supposed to have come to collect her a 2.45.

The doorbell rang and Karen heaved a sigh of relief. At 18 standing with your bottom on display in front of your middle-aged tutor was definitely not the high point of the week.

Roland went to the door, but instead of Karen’s mother, it was his new student Melanie Crow and her older sister Anita, another former student of his.

“Professor Archer I am so sorry.” Anita said breathlessly. “We were hopelessly delayed by an awful accident on the main road.”

“I see.” Roland said tartly. “You never were a good time keeper, but presumably it wasn’t your fault this time. Not that I usually accept excuses as you know.”

Twenty-six-year-old Anita blushed to her ears, she could well remember the consequences of any tardiness with Professor Archer.

“You remember Melanie, my sister?” Anita said to deflect any further embarrassing comments on the professor’s part. “She has been slipping in English and History.”

“Ah yes.” Roland smiled reassuringly at the girl. “A sophomore. Your major is in history isn’t it?”

“Yes sir.” Melanie replied shyly.

“Your sister has informed you of my methods?”

“Yes sir.” Melanie blushed.

“We run a tight ship at the Crow household, don’t we Mel?” Anita interjected.

Melanie nodded and blushed even more.

“Ah yes I seem to remember you had rather a strict upbringing.” Roland nodded sagely. “Am I to take it that you are acting in loco parentis?”

“Its certainly loco at our house. I mean yes professor that pretty much sums it up.” Anita tried to rein in the flippancy in the presence of her old mentor. Then failed. “I have full custody of the family hairbrush.”

“I see. And your old sorority paddle no doubt.” Roland said tartly.

“Oh yes. But Mel has one of her own now.” Anita grinned.

Melanie blushed, suddenly wondering if this conversation wasn’t veering into dangerous oath-breaking territory.

“A sorority girl? Well good for you.” Roland said pleasantly. “Well come in to my study, I have been rather delayed myself by the late arrival of one of my parents.”

As they entered the study Anita smiled at the familiar sight of a penitent student standing bare-bottomed in the corner and bearing the vivid marks recent correction. The old man must be slipping, she thought, as she counted no more than a dozen stripes on the girl’s comely derrière.

“Karen here has been a good girl lately. She is just here to be reminded to remain so.” Roland explained as if reading Anita’s mind.

It was not thoughts of leniency that preoccupied Melanie as she stood open-mouthed staring at firsthand evidence of her new tutor’s methods.

“I think little Mel here is going to be a very good girl from now on.” Anita smirked seeing her sister’s face.

“Oh gosh yes.” Melanie nodded earnestly.

Just then, the doorbell rang again. Roland excused himself and went to answer.

“I am terribly sorry Mr Archer.” Karen’s mother said flustered. “What ever must you think of me? There was an accident.”

“Yes so I gather Mrs Garland, do come in.” Roland ushered the woman in. “This is Miss Crow and her sister Melanie, my new student.”

“Hello girls.” Mrs Garland shook their hands vigorously. “I hope you are going to be a better student than my Karen. Speaking of which, Karen do up your things we are going now.”

Karen didn’t need telling twice and hastened to repair her dress.

After they had left Anita also made her farewells.

“Don’t spare the rod with this one. Us Crows are tough cookies.” Anita gushed punching her rather nervous looking sister on the arm.

“I seem to remember that you are Anita.” Roland smiled. “The paddle and the cane on nine straight visits during one spring alone and not so long ago I believe.”

Anita’s mouth hung open in horror at the revelation in front of her sister. “Quite.” She said, her face a colour that must have resembled her bottom after one of the sessions with Professor Archer.

But Melanie took no comfort from her sister’s embarrassment; her thoughts were still preoccupied with the image of Karen who had so recently occupied the corner of her new tutor’s study.

“Try and get the most from these sessions kid.” Anita whispered to Melanie as she left.

“Now that we are alone I think I should go over the ground rules.” Roland said mildly.

“Yes sir.” Melanie blinked nervously.

“You are never late. An excuse such as today’s is unacceptable. Are we clear?”

“But.” Melanie began, then seeing the look on his face said. “Yes sir.”

“Your essays are to be handed in on time. If you have a dog I suggest you shoot it.”


“I don’t want to hear that the dog ate your homework.”

“No sir.” Melanie laughed.

Roland smiled and indicated the chair.

“I am not so bad Melanie. I won’t eat you.”

“No sir.” Melanie smiled. “Oh I prefer Mel sir.”

“Mel.” Roland smiled warmly. “Shall we begin?”


The weeks that followed were far from a trial to Mel. Professor Archer explained things in a way that made it all come clear. His set essays were not too arduous and once she was used to the extra work, she even came to enjoy them.

The only thing that disconcerted her about visits to Roland Archer’s house, were his other visitors. On numerous occasions, she arrived to find another student either in floods of tears as she departed or ensconced in the corner of the hall or study with a very bare and very sore bottom well displayed.

Most were her own age like Karen, whose bottom must have constantly carried marks on her bottom from Professor Archer’s cane. But sometimes there were older girls, young women, seniors and on at least one occasion a woman whom Mel could have sworn was on the college faculty.

Nor were they always in the corner. One time she came a little early to be confronted with a redheaded girl bent over the back of a chair in the study. Professor Archer made no attempt to spare either of the girls’ blushes and Mel was treated to the sight of the last few heavy swats of a paddle placed across the moist-eyed woman’s already very tender tail.

When the shame-faced girl was allowed to rise and step back into her slacks, Melanie realised that it was a girl from one of her classes.

“Oh my god.” The weeping girl gasped on seeing who was watching.

“Oh don’t worry about Mel.” Roland said easily. “Its not as if she is not subject to the same discipline is it.”

Mel and the girl exchanged uncomfortable glances and then the redhead mumbled her goodbyes and with an awkward gait made for the door.

“She really does need to learn to listen more.” Roland sighed after she had gone.

“Now how did you get on with your essay?” He said brightly rubbing his hands in expectation.


It had been almost a month since Mel had become a student of Roland. Whilst home life had been much the same, Anita had spanked her twice, she had yet to suffer at the hands of her tutor and she was beginning to wonder when it might happen.

Then, as these things invariably do, it happened when she least expected it. One afternoon the bus hadn’t come. No explanation, just a non-arrival. This didn’t concern Mel over much as she had plenty of time. So she decided to walk. Whilst crossing the park to Roland Archer’s house she bumped into a friend who wanted to return a book to her only she didn’t have it on her.

“It won’t take long to drop by my apartment.” Her friend had said.

Eventually Mel had arrived at her tutor’s less than 10 minutes late.

“Sorry Professor I had to get a book.” Mel said cheerfully as she entered the study.

Her eyes swept the room for any miscreants secreted in corners, but today there were none.

“I see.” Roland said darkly. “Then there are two things for us to discuss.”

“Two things.” Mel said blandly not really paying attention.

“Your last essay was a thoroughly half-hearted affair was it not? Had better things to do did we?” Roland said placing a leather pouf in the middle of the room. “As for being late, I am surprised that you take it so lightly.”

Mel’s mouth was suddenly dry. Roland was holding a thin mahogany paddle, which he stressed between his hands.

“If you would be so kind as to lower your denims, in fact why not step out of them altogether. The panties too.” Roland said casually.

“My panties?” Mel swallowed to get some moisture into her mouth.

She had never been spanked on the bare by a man before. In fact, she had never even been seen naked by a man before. But after the last month’s parade of sore bottoms, why was she surprised? Her sister had warned her after all.

“I am waiting Miss Crow.” Roland said sternly.

Mel’s thumbs would not cooperate as she tugged at the button on her jeans. But all too soon the fastener gave way and she turned her back as he blushingly lowered her clothing.

She paused for a moment before removing her underwear, thinking her ears might melt as she prayed frantically for some reprieve.

“Miss Crow.” Roland snapped.

“Yes sir.” Mel wailed as she hastily stepped out of her panties.

“Now if you would be so kind as to kneel on the floor and present your impudent behind across the pouf.

By pouf, she assumed he meant the padded leather stool-like thing in the middle of the floor. She eyed it nervously and then awkwardly lowered herself to the humiliating position as Professor Archer had directed.

The stuffed leather was a little lower than her belly and she had to steady herself with her hands flat on the floor. This had the affect of pushing her bottom up and backwards.

“Miss Crow you are a natural.” Roland observed.

“Thank you sir.” Mel sighed.

The splat of the paddle took her by surprise. She was still mid startle at the sound when the sting took hold.

“Jesus Christ.” She gasped. Her sorority sisters could get her attention, but never like this.

“Please don’t take the Lord’s name in vain Miss Crow.” Roland suggested as he took another swing.

“Ahh.” Mel yelped. “Please sir how many?”

“As many as it takes Miss Crow. As many as it takes.”

The light springy paddle fell slowly and hard. Each spank across her exposed bottom drove her hard across the pouf. Each impact extracted a heartfelt yell.

“Why did they pour tea into Boston Harbour Miss Crow?” Professor Archer asked. “In the name of freedom was it?”

This was a reference to something in her essay.

“Yes sir.” Mel sniffed and gritted her teeth as she received another.

“Yes sir?” He said tersely as he lay on another. “This is history we are studying, not Hollywoodised mythology or political platitudes.”

“No sir.” Mel wailed not knowing what to say. “I mean yes sir.”

“There were a multitude of complex reasons to the act with different participants each with their own motives.” The Professor growled adding another swat. “Name me one.”

“The legally imported tea undercut the black-market tea even with tax on it.” Mel said desperately her eyes and nose dripping onto the carpet.

“And so?” Professor Archer applied another heavy swat.

“Ahh.” Mel howled. “It undermined the organised criminals of the day.”

“Better Miss Crow.” Roland stopped the paddling and stooped over his charge. “I am going to give you 10 more and only 10 for this calumny if you can answer this next question correctly. If not you get the 10 and 10 more after a follow up question.”

“Oh please sir.” Mel said desperately.

“I am sure you mean thank you don’t you?” Roland said firmly.

“Oh.” Mel groaned. “Yes sir. Thank you sir.”

“Most people were against the King in 1776 because he was a tyrant.” Professor Archer snapped. “Is that what you said? Is that true?”

Sensing it wasn’t Mel said no.


Mel desperately searched her mind for a better answer.

“Some people thought he was a tyrant.” She gabbled.

“Invariably some people did. What are you saying Miss Crow?”

Then she remembered on of his lecturers a week or two back.

“Only about a third were active in their support for the war in 1776. Up to a third were still loyal to the king and only wanted reforms.” She said in despair.

“Leaving a third neutral.” Roland supplied. “Why wasn’t any of this in your essay Miss Crow? Why did you turn in this third grade drivel?”

“Sorry sir.” Mel sniffed.

“Very well.” Roland sighed. “Just 10 more and we are done.”

“Oh sir.” Mel wailed.

She took the 10 tight, each exacting a price for her sloppiness and each extracting a loud howl.

“Thank you sir. I mean sorry sir.” She sobbed once it was over.

“Both are appropriate.” Roland said kindly. “Dry your eyes and let us continue with the lesson.”

“Yes sir.” Mel sniffed. “May I put on my things?”

“I rather think not. Let us keep you mindful of the consequences of sloppy work and available for further correction. Besides we still have to address your tardiness after our session.”

“Oh.” Mel’s eyes went wide.

“You didn’t think I had forgotten did you?”

“No sir.” Mel said with a pout.

The rest of the lesson went well, although it was hard for Mel to forget that she was kneeling half naked on the floor at her tutor’s feet while he outlined a better essay approach. Especially as she contemplated what was to come.

“We will finish early today as we have other matters to attend to.” Roland said at last.

Mel didn’t answer but looked up at him like a scolded child.

“Now Miss Crow if you will stand and place your hands flat on the pouf so that your bottom is again elevated.” Roland said as he went to the cabinet in the corner.

“Yes sir.” Mel said nervously as she saw him remove a cane.

“Never felt the cane before?” He asked.

“No sir.” She swallowed.

“It is very effective for lateness.” He said as if giving a lecture.

“Please sir how many?” Mel was frantic.

“Six is for children, 12 for reminders, but as it is your first time we will say, 15 I think.” Roland said brightly. “Next time it will be 18. After that well, you get the picture.”

“Oh sir, please sir.” Mel jumped up and grabbed at her bottom.

“Back over, please Miss Crow.” Roland said tapping the pouf.

Mel turned suddenly conscious that she was offering him a clear sight of her well-trimmed triangle in front. Then with one final desperate look over her shoulder slowly bent herself and offered him her still scarlet bottom.

He moved behind her as she stared straight ahead, but her eyes darted in her head as she tried to gauge his position behind her. Then he struck.

The first stroke extracted a hiss from her. He watched her right leg fold up as she dipped a little.


“Yes sir.” She gasped.

He struck again and she twisted a little and began heavy breathing. There were now two stark dark lines across the scarlet stained bottom.

At the third, she growled through her teeth and sagged at both knees.

She gasped a sorry “oh” at the next and fresh tears sprang from both eyes.

She could not stay silent after that as the pain sang in her bottom and each stroke built on the last. He timed it well, so that she was just a coming off the peak effect of one stroke, when he placed another.

For the last three she offered him full-throated yells and at the last stroke broke into tearful sobbing.

“Now with your hands in the small of your back please take your place in that corner.” Roland said gently.

“Yes sir she sobbed.”

It was forty minutes until his next student arrived. A wide-eyed freshman who was desperate not to fail.

“Oh my.” She said on seeing Mel in the corner. Then obviously no stranger to the experience she said hurriedly. “I’m not late am I?”

“Not today Miss Libowski and your essay was excellent.” Roland reassured her. “Miss Crow will you be so kind as to dress in the hall and then see yourself out.”

Mel turned shamefaced from the corner and bundled up her clothes as she hurried to the door.

“Goodbye Miss Crow, see you next week.” Roland said pleasantly. “On time I trust.”

“Yes sir, good bye.”


4 Responses to “The Tutor”

  1. 1 Karl Friedrich Gauss

    It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it!

  2. 2 paul1510

    DJ, Tutoring, as we wish it might have been. 😀

  3. 3 Karl Friedrich Gauss

    Paul, I’m not so sure this is totally fictitious. After all DJ himself tutors young ladies. And I’d suspect his methods are not so far removed from what we read about here!

    • 4 DJ

      As Paul says it is more how we wish it could be – but all art tends imitates life – I have indeed been a genuine tutor and quite separately I have mentored the odd young lady in ways not unremoved from the events described.

      However, the story is set in the good old US and is intended to be treated as fiction.

      But thanks for the vote of confidence.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: