Mrs. McConnal VI

From: Anonymous
 
 
 

Note From The Editor: The writer of this very nice story sent it to me and asked to remain anonymous. However, I have his e-mail address, so if you want to tell him what you think about his story you can email me ([email protected]) and I will make sure he gets your comments.

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Chapter Six: I'm In Trouble


Mrs. McConnal posted a schedule for rehearsals on her bulletin board. Not every cast member needed to be at every rehearsal for the first couple of weeks. I saw that I had a Friday evening off. It was spring. I felt great. My father was gone. And I had no place I had to be. It was a perfect time to have a few drinks and get stoned.

So after riding my bike longer than usual because of the great weather, I showered, thinking of Sally Ann and Mrs. McConnal. And then around 5:30 settling down with a bottle of Jack Daniels and a bag of pot. Listen to some music, recite some poetry, maybe watch some TV, entertain myself for an evening.

Then about 7:00, when I was well on my way to being very high, the phone rang. Who could that be, I wondered, expecting it to be for Dad.

"Jeremy?" came the voice on the other end.

"Yeah?" still not knowing who I was talking to.

"This is Melissa." She was the stage manager. "Why aren't you here?"

"I wasn't scheduled to come in tonight." I said, frantically hoping I was right.

"No, you must have mis-read the schedule. That's next Friday night you're off." Uh-oh. This could mean big trouble.

"Well, do you need me to come in now?" I asked, hoping she would say, no.

"Yes we do." she replied.

"Is Mrs. McConnal mad?" I had to know her mood now.

"No. She said you may have misunderstood the schedule. She's not mad. She understands." Melissa sounded perfectly at ease. But I wasn't.

I just said, "OK, I'll be us there as soon as I can get there. I'm sorry."

"That's OK." she said, brushing it off. "See you in a few minutes."

Oh shit! I thought. Mrs. McConnal is going to KNOW I've been drinking. Oh, Jeez, she'll smell it all over me. They all will. I don't know if she can smell the pot, but she'll know I'm drunk. AND SHE WILL BE PISSED. Oh, God, she is going to be so mad at me . . .

All the while I was frantically dousing myself with after shave, even though I didn't shave yet. Trying to cover the smell any way I could. I did have the presence of mind to take a load of strong pain killers before leaving the house, hoping they might have time to take effect before (if) Mrs. McConnal discovered my situation and spanked me. I lit a cigar (to help cover the smell), and took a long way on my bike, hoping that some exercise would wear off the drunkenness I was feeling.

But showing up at rehearsal was unavoidable. So I came in and kept to myself, away from everyone else. I may be able to avoid Mrs. McConnal, but there would be no avoiding Sally Ann. We had scenes very close together, and this was the only time I regretted that.

I wasn't sure how serious Mrs McConnal had been when she promised me that if she ever caught me drunk or stoned again she would give me a REAL spanking. I thought now it best to conduct myself as if she were dead serious. The longer I could stay away from her and the others the better were my chances.

She called on me and Sally Ann as soon as she knew I was there. I took a round about path in getting to the stage, which I know must have signaled her that something was amiss, if she didn't already know. And met my gorgeous fantasy lover in the middle of the stage.

Sally Ann immediately asked, "What's that you're wearing?"

"Nothing." I stammered.

Then she announced, loud enough for everyone to hear, "My God, you're drunk!"

Always the smart mouth I blurted out, "Well thanks for telling me that, Sally Ann. What did you expect on a night when I thought I was off?"

"And he's probably been doing drugs, too." she told everyone in attendance.

"Well they do go together real nice." I told her.

The boys thought it was hilarious. The girls didn't think it was quite so funny. Mrs. McConnal, who was fast approaching, was not at all amused.

"Is that true?" Mrs. McC. asked, almost in a rage.

"Yes ma'am." I answered sheepishly, trying to be as contrite as I could.

She grabbed my shoulders, turning me sideways, and sternly said, "Bend over."

I turned back to her. "No Mrs. McConnal, not in front of everybody."

She turned me sideways again and said, even more firmly commanded, "Bend over."

I did as I was told, blushing, more humiliated than I ever imagined. Mrs. McC. then grabbed me firmly around my waist and gave me 5 hard licks with her hand all planted on the tender lowest part of my bottom. I cried out on the last two. When she finished I managed to keep from dancing around, but could not help rubbing my stinging bottom. I looked her in the face with anger, wondering 'How could you do this to me in front of everybody'.

"Now apologize to everyone for coming here in this condition." she demanded. Which I did with great embarrassment.

When I was done with that I asked her softly, "Do you want me to go home now?" I surely wanted to go home now. Get back to drinking and getting stoned if nothing else. Also I was beginning to realize that I had taken more pain killers than I should have, and would be really fucked up in a very short time.

"No." she replied in a low but certain voice, "You're going to stay and finish your work here. And then we're going to have another talk."

HAVE ANOTHER TALK? Did that mean she wasn't finished. My butt was on fire, for Chrissake. That WAS a real spanking. Oh no, she's not going to hit me again . . . is she? Well if she was, maybe the pain killers would take care of it. They certainly hadn't helped just now.

So we kept working. Sally Ann was perturbed but still saw the humor in things. Knowing, as I soon found out, a little more than I did.

During a break some of the boys took me into the boys room and demanded to see my ass. This was the drill. I had seen their asses after they got paddled, now they got to see mine. But they had seen my spanking, and saw me crying and heard me yelping while getting it. I couldn't even keep silent for a short hand spanking. Not very manly. But they didn't seem too concerned with the fact that I cried. They wanted to see Mrs. McConnal's work, and I let them. My butt was still red from her spanking an hour later.

Then one of them said, "It's going to be a lot worse off than that when she gets through with you later." "No, joke, man." "Monday in PE we'll get to see how she can really go to work on a behind."
 

The End
 
 


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