After Bob had spanked me for the spray painting, the rest of the semester went on uneventfully. Though the memory remained always vivid, it began to recede in immediacy. Soon it was the end of the spring semester, and I went home.
The next fall, I returned, and again stayed in the dorms. In learly October, I was walking through the Quad, and almost ran into Bob, dressed in his shirt uniform. He looked at me, and smiled, and asked "How are you, Howard?" The memories of that night flooded back in that moment and flustered me.
"I'm fine." I said and began to walk towards my next class. Just then, I accidently dropped a book I was carrying. When I reached down to pick it up, a grass joint I was carrying for a party that night dropped out onto the ground right in front of Bob. As I reached to pick it up, I saw his hand deftly reach down and grab it first. As we both straightened ourselves out, I asked:
"Could I have that back?" Bob looked me in the eye.
"If you want it back, come to my office tonight." After I explained that I had to go to a party tonight, he said to get there around 8pm, and then I could still go to the party if I wanted to later on. I agreed on that time if I decided to go, and went to class. Through the day, I thought about whether or not to go, but I knew if I didn't get it back, I'd have a lousy time at that party, and unlike last time, it wasn't as idf I had done anything to affect Bob's job like last time. So, I went through the rest of the day, and with some hesitation, I walked across campus towards the maintenance building. It loomed ahead of me as I remembered the night the previous spring. For a moment, I turned around, but then steeled myself, and walked back towards the building. I was determined to get what belonged to me.
It was dark, and the building was illuminated by security lighting. I went to the front door, and opened it as he had told me and went inside. I saw the same greasy floor and equipment in the area, and looked back towards Bob's office. I saw the door was open and the light was on. He must have heard me, because he walked out of the office. "Hello, Howard. I see you're five minutes late, but come on in." I explained that I was late because I had not decided whether to come or not, and I thought I saw a slight smile form on his face in reply. I walked back towards his office and he stepped aside as I passed by him into the office. It was still as I remembered it, the one single chair in front, and the desk.
Then I asked the question I came to pose. "Are you going to give my property back to me?" He held up my joint for me to see.
"Oh, you mean this?" I gazed at it and nodded. "Sure you'll have the chance to take it back if you want it. I just want to have a little talk about it first." Then, in an action that made me shudder, he reached over and gently close the office door. He then went back behind the desk and sat down. "You know this stuff is illegal don't you?" he asked.
I sort of squirmed around, felt like a kid being addressed by Dad. It was embarrassing that I had to explain myself. "Well, everybody I know does it, and besides, you're not the police!" And again, I asked for the joint back. "That's not an answer" he responded "and you know it."
"Oh, come on---" I started.
"..and what do you think the administration and your folks would say if they found out?" I looked down at the floor.
"They wouldn't like it." I replied. "You're not going to tell them, right?" Bob smiled and opened his desk drawer and took out the hairbrush.
"Of course not." he replied as he got up from his desk and came around. "I don't think I'll have to, do you?" Part of me was upset at this, yet something within me was relieved that this was happening. As before, he turned the chair around to face me and sat down. He patted his knee and said, "Ok, Howard, you know the drill." I moved my head from side to side and stood there. "You know what has to be done here." Bob said "Come over here."
"I don't want to, it hurts." I said, "And I'm too old for this." His eyes bored into me.
"Yes, it'll hurt worse than the last time. And you deserve it. Remember you promised to be good when we did this last time?" I remembered being over his knees when it hurt so much and promising when he asked that I'd be a good boy.
"Well, yes, but I would have said anything because it hurt so much." I explained. I shouldn't be bound literally by it. Bob got red in the face, and fired some questions at me. By the time he was through, I had to admit what I did here was not good behavior, and that yes, I did mean what I promised, or else it meant I had lied to him. I was trapped. Thus defeated, I walked the four steps over to him and he quickly grabbed hold of the belt holding up my jeans and loosened it. As he did so, he started talking to me.
"I'm afraid this will have to be harder, because this is illegal and endangers your future." Then my jeans were very unfastened and pulled down my legs, followed by my briefs. "You're going to find out this behavior is unacceptable." With that, he put his arm on my back and nudged me over his knees, I groaned as I went over, and felt his left arm lift up my shirt, and then hold me around the waist. "Since this is going to be very hard, give me your right hand." he said. Knowing it would eventually happen anyway, I lifted my right hand, and Bob pinned it to the smal of my back with his left hand. He then began to lecture me, and I felt so vulnerable while he talked, and couldn't help squirming around thinking about what was to follow. (To be continued)