Then I go and tell her there are things—things, plural, for Christ’s sake!—that I love about her. What was I thinking? Too late now.She came bac... from class late in the afternoon, exhausted. She fell right on the bed and slept. That was fine with me. I was working on a Tennessee Williams paper and anyway, if she had plans to give me the third degree about what I’d said the night before, then her nap was just what I wanted, a reprieve. The interrogation might have been inevitable, but I would. What we liked, what we disliked. Time passed. Hours passed. We had talked nearly half the day and still had not run out of topics. She had told me earlier in the day that she needed to be at work early the next day. It was already 2:00am. I knew she needed to go, and I desperately tried to refrain from reminding her of her early appointments. But my fingers were already busily typing the words ‘shouldn’t you rest, my dear? You have to get up early.’ Unfortunately, I was right and with a long. A sigh left her parted lips. “I want to flip the sign and lock the door, I think he’s left, and we’ve got an hour.” “He never comes back in less than an hour.” I watched her fly down the aisle and heard her lock the door and start back. As she rounded the corner and started back to the rope selection I motioned her to stop and held my finger to my lips. She stopped dead in her tracks and scanned the store through the shelves. I slowly stripped my t shirt off, let it drop to the floor and. Wickersham was forced to punish me. And I was sure she disliked the physical punishment. Or so I thought. But when I left school after the graduation ceremony she took me into her office when I was getting ready to leave, asking my parents to allow me to see her for a moment. They were slightly confused but I went into her office. She had me sit down, and then, since I was no longer a student, she was honest with me and told me how much she had enjoyed our spanking sessions. In fact, she told.