Mrs. McConnal XXXII

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.

Chapter Thirty Two: A Bright New Day

I awoke the next morning feeling like the world was brand new. At first yesterday seemed like it must have been a bad dream, well not all bad. Within seconds, of course, reality came back to me. It was not a dream. But still today was new. This was only the second time that Mrs. McConnal really wore me out. I was still learning that the best thing about a spanking is that, when it's over, the punishment is over (at least that's the way it should be). She was beaming when she saw me come in for breakfast. She was still in her night dress and Mr. Jed in his pajamas. I had gotten up a bit early and was showered, cleaned and ready for school, ready to face the new day.

I could tell that I added some brightness to their morning. And that made me feel great. To be coming to the realization that I could add some light to the lives of the people that I loved was something I had never experienced before. That my life was better because of them had been a fine thing to know, but that their lives were better because of me was the best knowledge I could possibly have.

I scarffed down breakfast while we talked about the holiday season we were already into. I thanked them both for taking care of me last night. I especially thanked Mr. Jed for carrying me to bed. He smiled and said he didn't mind. They had not wanted to wake me up.

"You're such an angel when you're asleep." Mrs. McConnal said.

Mr. Jed laughed.

"When I'm asleep?" I grinned.

After breakfast I asked Mrs. McConnal if I could go on a little early. I wanted to walk by Dianne's house and talk with her on the way to school. She said, of course it was OK. And reminded me that I needed to see Mr. Donaldson today.

"Could I check with him after school?" I asked.

"I think he'd rather see you earlier." she replied. "He had wanted to talk with you yesterday." So I said I'd try to get there early enough to see him before school.

Timmy answered the door at the Nobel's house. I was earlier than usual and Dianne wasn't ready yet. But I was ready to greet everyone this morning. I spoke to Mr. and Mrs. Nobel, commenting on what a beautiful day it was and hoping that they were in good spirits this morning.

"Well, we certainly are now, Jeremy." Mrs. Nobel answered.

Timmy wanted to wait on the swing on their porch, which was fine with me. It was a great morning for being outside; a bright, sunny autumn day, white cotton fluff clouds, not hot not cold, a slight breeze in the air. At this time of year Georgia is just about perfect, almost heaven.

"So, how you doin' this morning, Jeremy?" Timmy asked.

"Great, Timmy, and you?"

"Pretty good." he was looking up at me. "Dianne was pretty pissed off at you yesterday." he said.

"Yeah, she was. Is she still?" I asked.

"I don't think so." Then his voice dropped a bit. "Did you get a whipping yesterday?"

I looked away, embarrassed. "Yes."

"Bad?"

Deep breath. "Pretty bad, yeah."

"Does it still hurt?" he asked.

I paused a moment. "Yes, some. Not as bad as it did, though."

"Did Dianne hair brush your butt, like she sometimes does me?" he asked.

I blushed. "Yep. She did."

"Hard?"

"Yes, Timmy, pretty hard." I felt like little kids sharing spanking stories.

He giggled. "Did she make you take your pants down?"

I blushed deeper. I was her boy friend. He was her little brother. To think of him picturing me over his sister's knee getting a bottom blistering from her did not make me feel very grown up. "Yes, she did."

He giggled again. "She paddled your bare behind?"

I answered solemnly, "Yes, Timmy, she did. Are you satisfied now?"

Just in time Dianne came outside. She looked as bright as the day. She seemed so much more mature than she had before. I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to do all sorts of things with her. I wanted to get naked with her in the grassy banks beside the creek in the warm sun and make love forever,

"G'morning, Jeremy." She greeted me. "Are you feeling better today?"

"Oh, yeah." I replied, glad to see her.

As we walked to school she asked me, "Did Mrs. McConnal come to see you yesterday?"

"Yes," I said, "I spent last night with them."

"And did she . . . ?" she didn't have to finish her question.

"Yes, she did."

"How bad was it?" she asked.

"I was bad enough." I said. "With a bundle of plum switches."

Timmy snickered. "Did she give it to you on the bare ass, too?"

"Yes, Timmy." I said.

Then he asked, still giggling, "Did she see everything? I know Dianne did."

"Timmy!" Dianne quickly jumped in, "You shouldn't ask such things.

He was enjoying this now. "Did they see you hard, Jeremy? I bet they did."

"Timmy!" Dianne was ticked at him now. She was blushing, too. In fact, yes, she had seen me hard, plenty hard. And it was probably the first time she had ever seen a boy friend hard.

"If you don't stop that this minute," Dianne threatened, "I'm going to fan your fanny a lot worse than I did Jeremy's. And I'm not kidding."

I blushed again. She was talking like we were both her little brothers. And I wanted to make a baby with her; right here and now. Oh well, the last promise she had given Timmy was for another butt warming. The last promise she had given me was for a wild fucking. I'd have to be content to live on that until she decided it was time.

As soon as we got to school I went to the office. It was often busy first thing in the morning; teachers getting mail, paperwork for the day getting passed out and turned in. I figured Mr. Donaldson would probably be too tied up this early to be able to talk with me, but I wanted him to know that I was available whenever he was ready.

He was ready. Whatever his secretary couldn't handle could wait.

He took me into his office and shut the door. I had never seen him this intent on something before, not that I had much to do with him. We spoke in passing occasionally, but that was usually it. Nevertheless in a school of only about 800 kids, everybody knew the principal, and he knew most everybody.

He knew my grades and test scores far better than he knew me. Mrs. McConnal assured me that everybody knew about my coming to rehearsal last spring completely wasted, and probably about her tearing my ass up for it, too. So, surely, Mr. Donaldson had eventually gotten word of it along with everyone else. But he never said anything to me about it. Generally, as regarded discipline, he let each teacher handle their classrooms as they saw fit, without interfering.

He had spoken to me about participating in the honor society. I presumed that Mrs. Wilkerson had put him up to that. But other than that we had never spoken much. I certainly never sought him out.

But now he sat behind his desk, looking across it at me intensely. I put my books on his desk and sat down. This was liable to take a while.

He explained about the challenge from the principal at Oak Grove to a chess match between their best and our best.

"We've never done anything to determine who our best is, Mr. Donaldson." I said matter of factly.

"You do play chess, don't you?" he snapped.

"Yes, sir."

"Then we've decided." he said, bluntly. "And I want you to play their kid. And I want you to win."

This guy was obviously used to giving orders and having them followed, at least by kids.

"I'll need more information and some time to formulate some conditions." I told him.

"What information? What conditions?" he came back. He acted like it was a simple, 'OK let's do it', matter. It wasn't.

"Like who?, when? where?, how many games?, what does a draw count?, conditions at the playing site?, time limits? I need to know all of that and have all those things agreed on before I can give an answer as to whether I'll play or not." I knew that someone who didn't play chess would not have thought of these things, and I thought no less of the Mr. Donaldson for not having immediate answers about them. But, as often was the case, I came across as being impudent. He held his temper, though.

"The name I've got." he said. He fumbled for some papers on his desk. "Alex Lichtfield." he read, "He's their quarterback."

He was also one of the best high school aged chess players in the state. No wonder they wanted a match. They intended to sweep us again and add to their winning streak, something to fill in between football beatings and basketball beatings.

I couldn't take this match lightly. It would be better to turn it down if we could not agree on playing conditions and such than to get obligated to play and find myself in a situation rigged to go against me. I saw no reason to tell Mr. Donaldson any of that.

"Let me think about this overnight." I said. "Can we set an appointment together for tomorrow afternoon after school?"

"Mr. Brakenbury, their principal, had hoped for an answer today?" he said. He meant it as an order, but even he was not too certain about giving me orders, especially when it was he asking something of me. After all, I could just as easily have given him a "No." right now if he really wanted an answer immediately.

"Yes," he said, after hesitating a moment, "yes tomorrow after school will be fine. I'll be expecting you."

"OK." I said, cheerfully, taking my books and preparing to leave.

"Jeremy," he stopped me before I left. "They are talking about doing this the week before Christmas holidays." I nodded.

"Oh, Mr. Donaldson," I said, remembering as I approached the door something I wanted made perfectly clear at the outset. "If I play this match . . . I play the match. Nobody else tells me how to play it. I want that agreed to now, before we go any further. Otherwise I can't do it."

He sat there with his mouth open. Maybe this seemed like a strange stipulation to him. Maybe it did sink in to him that here was a 13 year old kid telling him that, in this case, the kid was not going to take any orders from him. Whatever, that had to be agreed to before we could proceed. For if I took this on, I intended to win. I wasn't going to play so that they could say what gentlemen we were. I wasn't going to play so that they could say we put up a valiant fight.

I was only going to play to win.

"Of course, Jeremy. I won't try to tell you how to play chess.." he said, a bit sheepishly.

"Great! Se you tomorrow." And I left.

Chess matches, as plenty of people were about to find out, are not played solely on the chess board.
 

The End