Private Tuition

By Flatfish

Melanie Stone, a beautiful twenty year old brunet, stood facing the wall, sniffling. Her eyes were red with crying and her long hair was sticking to her face where a flood of tears had cascaded down her cheeks. Her arms ached with holding her hands on her head and her bottom was burning like a furnace.

Dave Wallace, still angry, dropped into an armchair and observed his handiwork. The back of Melanie’s thighs were looking sore and red just below the hem of her short skirt, evidence of the cherry red bottom smarting beneath. As he regained his composure Dave thought over the events that had brought about Melanie’s chastisement, a punishment that would probably cost him his career, his liberty and what little wealth he had earned. But she deserved every slap. My God how she deserved it. She must have had a great time with her friends laughing at her fool of a tutor. And no matter what happened now, at least Dave had the satisfaction that he’d meted out some good old fashioned justice to the deceitful minx.

It had all started three weeks earlier when Dave Wallace had tapped lightly on the door of 10 Rose Avenue. He was always a little nervous on a first visit to the house of a new student. He waited for Mrs. Stone to come to the door, expecting a woman in her late thirties or early forties. She had given a student profile of her daughter over the phone; a bright sixteen year old, studying at the 6th form of the local grammar school, a young lady lacking in confidence when it came to mathematics – a typical bread and butter case for Dave – or so it seemed. He hadn’t given much thought to Mrs Stone’s strange nasal voice over the phone; he had assumed she must have a cold. So with Mrs Stone in mind it came as quite a surprise when the door was opened by a pretty girl in school uniform.

“Hi, I’m Melanie. You must be Mr Wallace.”

Melanie was a slender five foot five with long dark hair and a subtle hint of makeup enhancing her pretty features. Her uniform was rather close fitting with a crisp white blouse clinging to full breasts and a dark grey mini skirt around her narrow waist, very short and showing off her shapely legs. Dave might have been fooled into thinking she was older than sixteen if it wasn’t for her school tie, patent leather shoes and white calf length socks. He felt a twinge of guilt at finding her so attractive and he reminded himself that he was twenty five and he made a conscious effort to be professional and avoid staring.

Melanie invited him in and led him through to the dining room, brightly furnished in a youthful modern style, where her notepad, pen, ruler and calculator were neatly laid out on the table.

“Where is your mother Melanie?” Dave asked.

“Oh, erh, she’s had to pop out sir, just for a bit,” she answered. “She’ll be back soon.”

“Perhaps I should come back later,” said Dave, feeling decidedly uncomfortable about being alone with an unchaperoned teenage girl.

“Oh no, it’s Ok,” said Melanie hurriedly. “Mum’s left a note for you.” She pulled a pink envelope from under her maths book and handed it over. Dave ripped it open and pulled out a sheet of lightly scented paper.

“Dear Mr. Wallace,” the hand written note read, “I’m sorry I can’t be there to greet you.” It went on to outline the tuition requirements for Melanie and finished with a surprising statement. “Melanie has not done well at school because of truancy and bad behaviour. This is an important time in her life and with that in mind I am relying on you to take a firm hand with her tuition.”

Dave wasn’t really sure what Mrs Stone was expecting of him. Discipline wasn’t normally the province of private tutors. But despite his misgivings he stayed for that first lesson, anticipating the woman’s arrival at any moment, but she never appeared. Melanie worked hard and was well behaved and at the end of the lesson she dipped into her own purse and paid Dave’s fee. He thought that was strange but he supposed her mother must have left the money with her just in case she didn’t arrive home in time.

Melanie’s second lesson was a week later and disturbingly there was still no sign of Mrs Stone. But once again Melanie worked hard and she had even completed a small “homework” assignment that Dave had set for her on his first visit. She was really an ideal student, but the absence of a responsible adult was worrying and Melanie’s excuses for her missing parent were becoming increasingly elaborate and suspect.

“Oh, Mum will definitely be back before you leave. Our cat, snuggles, has gone missing and she is out looking for him.”

Despite Melanie’s assurances the clock wound round to the end of the lesson and the mysterious Mrs Stone remained absent.

By the third lesson Mrs Stone’s car had apparently been stolen and she was comming home on the bus and it was stuck in traffic. But it was the latest lesson where the truth finally came shockingly to light and Dave wondered how the hell he’d let himself be fooled by this web of lies. Week after week he had swallowed Melanie’s stories, hook line and sinker, until this evening when a phone call had uncovered the whole deceitful charade.

He had arrived for the lesson at the usual time and sure enough there was no sign of Mrs Stone. He and Melanie sat at the table and Melanie started to spin her excuse for her mother’s absence.

“Mum was determined to be here but one of the elderly neighbours was poorly and she went to take her some food and she has taken a turn for the worse and Mum has had to take her to the hospital. And then…”

Melanie’s fiction was interrupted by a persistent chirp from the telephone and she stood up to answer it.

“I thought we’d agreed that phones would be turned off,” said Dave, slightly nettled by the interruption.

“I have turned my phone off,” protested Melanie. “Someone’s ringing the house phone. I’d better answer it. She walked towards it but before she had chance to lift the receiver the answering machine took over and the speaker phone kicked in so both Melanie and Dave were able to hear the message.

“Hi Mel, it’s Charlotte. I guess you must still be having your lesson. Are you still fooling that bozo into believing you’re a school kid – you naughty girl. I thought teachers were supposed to be clever. Me and Rachel are going down to that new bar that’s opened, the Sphinx. Hope we’ll see you there later. Byeeee.”

Melanie flushed bright red and spun around to face Dave. Her face was a mask of horror, fear and acute embarrassment.

Dave was momentarily speechless as the full and awful truth started to sink in and the pieces of Melanie’s deceit fell into place. It had all been a lie. He gritted his teeth and was trembling with rage. Then his temper exploded and he poured out a blistering tirade about childish irresponsible behaviour, making a fool of people and trust, deceit and lies. Tears bubbled up in Melanie’s eyes under the onslaught. She tried to explain but she was lost for words. There was no justifiable excuse for the game she’d been playing.

“I suppose it was one of your giggling friends who telephoned me with the lie about you being a sixteen year old schoolgirl,” snapped Dave.

“No…no… actually that was me. I held my nose so you wouldn’t recognise my voice when we met.”

Dave’s jaw clenched even tighter. He was seething. “And the note?” he demanded, “Who wrote that?”



Melanie gave a weak apologetic grin. “Erh… Erh that was me too.”

Dave slapped his hand down on the table, making Melanie flinch. Furious, he pushed back his chair and stood up.

“So you want to be taught with a firm hand do you? Well Melanie that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

“W… What are you going to do?” wailed Melanie.

Dave spun the chair around and put his foot up on the seat. Melanie watched, wide eyed. She gulped and backed away, but not far enough. Dave reached out, grabbed her wrist and yanked her back. Then with a shocked and frightened squeal from his delinquent student he hooked his hands under her arms and hauled the lightweight girl off her feet and over his knee.

 “No, no,” squealed Melanie. “You can’t do this! I’m an adult; I’m too old to be spanked.”

Melanie’s arms and legs flayed around unable to reach the floor, and with nothing to push against she was completely helpless. And then the punishment started. Not a few warning slaps, not a steady warming of her bottom but an angry, stinging, very hard spanking, delivered with a ferocious determination to ensure this young lady would sincerely regret her behaviour.

Melanie writhed, squirmed and howled. Her bottom was stinging more with every smack. This was the most humiliating and painful experience of her young life and not what she expected when she wrote that ill-judged note. As if it wasn’t bad enough to be dressed as a schoolgirl, she’d just suffered a savage telling off for her childish, deceitful behaviour (which she thoroughly deserved) but now this, a blistering spanking that showed no sign of finishing anytime soon and made her bawl like a naughty child.

As Dave smacked and whacked, Melanie’s lies flashed through his mind and his fury spiralled to new highs. Then ignoring Melanie’s protests and heedless of the consequences he grabbed the hem of her skirt and yanked it out of the way revealing the swell of her scarlet cheeks peeking from her brief white pants.

Melanie was horrified. She reached back in a futile attempt to cover her bottom but Dave pulled her hand out of the way and continued to deliver a spanking that would turn the flesh even redder and would leave her barely able to sit for a week.

When the spanking finally ended Dave hooked his fingers under her arms once more and stood her back on her feet. He furiously ordered her to stand facing the wall with her hands on her head and so, holding and squeezing her bottom, she tearfully scampered into the corner.


Five minutes had passed since Melanie’s spanking and as Dave regained his composure the craziness of the situation sank in. He had just assaulted one of his students and she should have thrown him out and called the police. But it hadn’t happened. Instead she was obediently standing with her hands on her head, facing the wall. What the hell was going on?

Melanie’s bottom was still smarting and she longed to put her hands down and give it a rub. Slowly she lowered her arms and twisted around to look at Dave.

“(Sniff) Can I come back to the table sir?” she asked meekly.

“Oh, erh… sure yeah OK,” answered Dave.

Melanie came back to the table gently rubbing her bottom and sniffling. She was confused by her own feelings. She knew she should be furious but instead she was excited and strangely aroused. She knew what she’d done was wrong. She should never have pretended to be a schoolgirl and she could have stopped at any time but she’d been enjoying it, and she’d enjoyed making up elaborate excuses for her missing parent. She’s started out with good intentions but it had turned into a mischievous prank and she’d wondered how far she would be able to push it. Somehow, being caught out and put over her tutor’s knee for a sound spanking seemed to be a really appropriate ending to her game, and from such an attractive teacher too – maybe it was just what she needed.

Melanie carefully sat down at the table and winced. Dave returned to his own seat.

“I… I didn’t mean to be disrespectful or to hurt you,” she sniffed. “I really am Melanie Stone but I’m twenty years old. I work at the supermarket and I’m doing a part time course at the college. I couldn’t do the maths. My grandad left me this house and a bit of money and I thought I’d use some to hire a tutor. But the things I wrote in that note were true. I was very badly behaved at school and I knew that because I’m an adult you’d expect me to be responsible for my own effort.  It’s just not fair. I thought if I was a child you would see the need to be firm and make me do the work. So I thought why don’t I pretend.”

“You could have just told me you were concerned that you would need pushing.”

“I could, but it was more fun this way,” she grinned. “I still had my old school tie so I dressed up as a schoolgirl and told you I was sixteen. But just after the first lesson my best friend Charlotte came to see me and she caught me dressed like that. I was too embarrassed to tell her why so I told her it was a prank and I was playing a trick on my tutor. After that things just spiralled out of control. I never dreamt you would spank me when you found out.”

“Yes erh, I’m sorry about that,” Dave mumbled, flushing with embarrassment.

“No, don’t be sorry,” Melanie answered. “I deserved it. Perhaps if my parents had tried that I might have done better at school. I’m the one who should be apologising. I know this is a bit cheeky after the way I’ve behaved but would you be willing to carry on being my tutor?”

“Yes,” Dave answered, surprised. “I would love to.”

“And would you mind terribly if I carry on being a schoolgirl in our lessons. I think it might help me to focus and work hard.”

“OK,” Dave smiled, if you really want to.”

“And erh… would you be willing to erh…” This time it was Melanie’s turn to be embarrassed.

“What is it?” asked Dave.

Melanie took a deep breath. “Would you be willing to spank me again if I misbehave or don’t work hard?” She covered her face with her hands and peeped out between her fingers.

“If you’re sure that’s what you really want,” said Dave.

“It is…” said Melanie, “I think.”

“Ok,” said Dave. “Well now that’s settled, shall we get started on the lesson? I set you some homework last time. Can I see how you’ve done?”

 “Oh no!” wailed Melanie. “I’ve forgotten to do it.”

“I see,” said Dave, moving back from the table to make room over his lap. “Erh… Do you have a hairbrush I can borrow?”