The restaurant was called Luigi’s, a little family-run Italian place on a corner near the edge of town: not really fancy, but nice, and the food was excellent. We had each tucked away a superb steak and pasta dinner, and were well on our way to the bottom of a decent bottle of red wine.
“I don’t know how to thank you, Jack. It’s been so long since I’ve been out to dinner, I’d forgotten what it was like.”
“I know what you mean. Between the divorce and the job loss, eating out for me was a burger from a fast food joint.”
“Why did you divorce?” she suddenly blurted, and then blushed with embarrassment, dabbing her lips with a napkin as if to wipe her words away. “I’m sorry, I had no right to ask you that.”
“Yes you did.” So I told her the truth: all of it. When I finished she looked at me strangely.
“You’re so kind and gentle; I would never have thought of you as being prone to rages.”
“I’m not,” I said quickly, not wanting her to think I was some kind of maniac. “I hadn’t been in a fight since college. That…situation was a double blow: one to my sense of honor and the other to something I had loved. Coming on it unexpectedly like that and then literally getting hit over the head to boot, I reacted. I’m not proud of it and I’m sorry it ever happened, but I’d be lying if I said I was really sorry for doing it. I’m not sorry in the least for that part. Am I making sense?”
“Perfectly. Again, thank you for being honest with me. You trust me with so much; it’s a rare trait.”
As she took another sip of wine, I gathered my courage.
“Fiona, I think I’d better ask you something. Are you married?”
She choked, almost spitting the liquid out.
“No! What on earth would make you think that?”
“I couldn’t tell from the Ms. one way or another, and you seem so serious so often, it’s hard to tell.”
“No, I’m not married. I never had the time.” She stared into her glass in silence for a few seconds.
“Jack, are you asking simply because you’re curious, or because you intend to take our relationship beyond what it currently is?”
“That’s a decision it’ll take both of us to make, isn’t it? For my part, I’ve already made up my mind, but I don’t know about you.”
“What’s your decision?”
“I find you intriguing, delightful and incredibly beautiful, inside and out. You’re the most fascinating and desirable woman I’ve ever met, and I’d love to get to know you better.”
“Have you thought of the possible ramifications and difficulties that your feelings might cause to arise just by mentioning them to me, let alone acting on them?”
If there was a warning, or any inflection at all in her voice, I couldn’t find it, so I forged ahead.
“Yes I have, both positive and negative. There’s no question there will be difficulties, but any choice we make has those, even if we make no choice at all. Besides, some things are worth the trouble.” I gave her my best smile. “As Shakespeare said, ‘reason and love keep little company together now-a-days.’
“Oh Jack, this is so hard. You said a minute ago you don’t know about me; well, you don’t. You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know how I feel, and I think I know how you feel too. That’s the important thing.”
She shook her head.
“That’s not all. There are things you need to know, and once you do, you’ll change your mind.” She looked around at the other customers. “Not here though. Let’s go back to Carnifax. We’ll talk in the car.”


We cruised the dark roads for several minutes and actually pulled into the Academy parking lot before I finally broke the silence after killing the rattling engine.
“Well Fiona, what’s this deep dark secret you’re convinced I’ll hold against you?”
“I’m a Carnifax girl.”
“What! You?”
She nodded.
“I spent the three years between my eighteenth and twenty-first birthdays right here, at Carnifax Correctional Academy.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“I was a criminal.” Her words came hard and brutal. “My mother was a prostitute and my father was one of her anonymous customers. She ‘turned me out’ as they say; I was a whore on the streets of New York City before I was thirteen, and I picked up a drug habit somewhere along the way. I killed a pimp with a switchblade when I was fifteen and was turned over to the correctional system. I did almost three years in a shit hole full of bull dyke guards and prisoners who would have liked nothing better than to get in my pants, and I did most of my time in solitary for fighting to keep them off me. Sometimes I was even successful. When I was eighteen, they brought me to Carnifax.
“Mr. Carnifax told me later that I was the most difficult student the academy ever had. I know I was the only one in its history ever to take three Level Fours, let alone all in one week, with the last two in two days running.”
Although I had never seen one or even worse, had to give one, I knew what a Level Four was: all three levels of correction, one after another, administered before the entire student population while the student was bound nude to a sawhorse-like frame. It was almost Medieval in its brutality, which was why it was so seldom necessary I supposed.
“Good God!”
“Oh yes,” she said, turning toward me and baring her teeth without humor as we opened the doors and got out. “The third time’s the charm, isn’t that what they say? Well, the third time they strapped me across that frame in front of the whole school and started beating my naked ass when it was already so sore I couldn’t sit down, they finally broke me. That’s what it took. I let go and cried like a baby and Mr. Carnifax kept swinging and crying himself. When they marched my classmates by to see the results, two of them puked right there on the floor. It was days before I could even sit on the toilet seat.
“So that’s what you’re getting Jack, if you take up with me: a convicted murderer, an ex-whore who’s a psychological basket case. I don’t sound like that much of a prize now, do I?”
We crossed the lot in silence and entered the building in the same way. After we walked into the office and closed the door, I helped her off with her jacket before answering. I needed to think this through, and I did.
“No Fiona, you don’t sound like that much of a prize; you sound like that much more of a prize, more than I ever imagined.”
She looked at me as if I were insane.
“How can you say that after what I just told you?”
I poured myself a cup of coffee and started unasked on a second.
“I look at your past and compare it to what you are now, and I see just how strong you are. I admire you; you’ve been tried in the fire, and you came out the other side better and stronger than before, risen above it all. Isn’t that what greatness is all about?”
“Damn it, Jack-”
Just as she spoke I accidentally sloshed a bit of the scalding coffee over my hand, and in my distracted state, when her words came, I responded reflexively as I would have to one of the students.
“Swearing is a Level One Correction, young lady.”
She froze and stared at me for a moment, then blushed, tightly closed her eyes and said, “Please sir, I won’t do it again! Please don’t spank me!”
Instantly it all came crashing down on me like a ton of bricks as to what she wanted. The father figure was for more than just the girls, even though I suspected she didn’t even fully realize it herself until just then. Arthur Carnifax was the only man she had ever known in her life that brought her anything but misery, and because of what he had done to her, it had turned her entire life around and straightened her up when she needed it. I guess she felt she needed some of that sense of what was normalcy for her right now.
Still, I decided to move carefully, a step at a time, just to be certain.
“Did you know the penalty for that when you said it?”
“Yes sir.”
Her breath was coming in excited gasps as she licked her lips.
“Very well; you know what that means. Come here Fiona.”
“Sir, may I take my dress off first so it doesn’t wrinkle?”
I nodded, and she slowly stripped out of it, confirming something I had noticed earlier, that she was wearing no bra. Her breasts were large, full and white, with soft pink nipples that instantly hardened to little nubs with excitement. Without my asking, she kicked her shoes off and peeled down her tiny black panties and dark pantyhose all in one motion, revealing a trim, well-muscled body and a shaved vulva, the top of her tiny pink slit showing against her tender, snow-white flesh like a perfect brush stroke. I had never seen anything so beautiful and was suddenly more excited than I had ever been in my life.
I sat down in the chair.
“Across my knee, young lady.”

Timidly she advanced and did as she was told, stretching herself across my lap. I straightened my left leg, lowering her front half and arching that beautiful bottom even higher in the air as she supported herself with her hands and feet. I could only stare for a minute; however severe her punishments as a student here had been, they at least had left no visible scars; her skin was smooth, white, translucent, and absolutely perfect. I caressed it in appreciation for a moment, and then I drew back and smacked her.
Her voice was filled with disappointment and had an edge of her old sarcasm to it.
“Is that all you’ve got?”
If that was the way she wanted it, then I would oblige her.
The next stroke was a powerful one that left her nothing to complain about, although it did make her gasp.
I began spanking her in earnest, as hard as I’d ever spanked a student, first one cheek and then the other. Her bottom bounced under the impact and she ground her crotch into my thigh. In that position her vulva showed plainly and I could see the dewy wetness already forming there.
I knew she was a tough girl, as tough as they came; that’s why I was surprised when, after less than a dozen licks, she totally surrendered to the experience and let herself go. She broke down completely and cried like her heart would break, pleading for mercy, but I remembered what she’d told me before about a Level One: forty to fifty strokes minimum. It was clear she wanted a Carnifax spanking – more than wanted it, she needed it – and that was exactly what I was going to give her.
I was getting more excited by the minute. Her beautiful, bright red butt churning, long legs kicking in time, and hipbone grinding into my crotch as she climaxed at least once were all having their effect on me.
By the time I finished I had long ago lost count and she was begging me to stop.
“Please sir! No more! Please!”
I held her there and gently rubbed her burning cheeks, before taking one in each hand and spreading them to look at what was hidden between.
“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson, Fiona?”
“Yes sir! Please stop! I won’t do it again!”
“I wish you hadn’t done it this time, honey,” I told her as part of the role, although I’m sure we both knew that was a bald faced lie if there ever was one. “You can get up now.”
She got to her feet, still sobbing and began rubbing her bottom.
“Thank you f-for correcting me sir!”
“Is your bottom sore, Fiona?”
“Yes sir; it hurts!”
“Would you like me to kiss it and make it better?”
Her knees went weak and buckled slightly as she nodded.
I ordered her to bend over the desk and spread her legs, then knelt on the carpet behind her. Gently I kissed her burning rear, feeling the hot flesh with my lips. She groaned as my mouth moved from spot to spot, and kissing changed to licking. Having thoroughly covered the surface of her cheeks, I took one in each hand and spread them still farther. I began working down her crack, using both lips and tongue as I went. I saw the tiny, puckered opening of her butt tighten with anticipation, but I took my time, making my way patiently, teasing her. She was clean and bathed, with only the faint smell of soap, and all I could taste was her. I kissed first, and then licked. As I ran my tongue over that tight little hole, gently and repeatedly, she began to gasp and moan, pumping against the desk.
“Yes!” she hissed as I circled her anus with my tongue, and then used it as a gentle probe, pushing forward and withdrawing. “Yes! Oh Jack, yesyesyes!”
She pushed her bottom back, pressing it against my face as she stiffened and orgasmed a second time.
I moved my tongue lower when she finished, flicking gently across the tiny, sensitive patch of skin of her perineum, and on to her vagina, swollen and wet with excitement. I thrust my tongue deep inside her, reveling in the sweet, musky taste of her flowing juices.
“Please Jack! Let me turn over! Please!”
I released her and instantly, in spite of her sore bottom, Fiona turned, swinging a leg over my head, and set her rear on the desktop. Wild with excitement I pushed my face forward again and she wrapped those long beautiful legs around my neck and locked her ankles behind me, pulling me in as she lay back across the desk, pinching and tweaking her own nipples. I began by licking her inner lips, up and down each side, before circling them both, but when she tilted her pelvis towards me, I took the hint. I licked her clitoris then and didn’t stop, even while furiously pulling off my own clothes. I flicked my tongue over it repeatedly until she began shaking and begging incoherently, and then I took the tiny nub of flesh between my lips and very gently sucked on it.
She exploded in ecstasy. I felt her muscles violently contract as she came again, and then she was pawing at my head, pushing it away.
“Love me, Jack! Oh please love meeee!”
I stood and she put her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. I entered her there as she sat on the desk, then picked her up and carried her to the chair, seating myself with her on my lap, impaled on my rigid manhood.
I began pumping as she worked her pelvis back and forth, her stinging buttocks further stimulated by rubbing on my legs. Fiona put her mouth on mine and our tongues intertwined. She tasted her own juices there and in turn I tasted the hot sweetness of her lips. It must have stimulated her, because it was less than a minute when her orgasm began building once more. First she pounded and clawed at my back and cried out, then the next instant her head was thrown back, her long red hair cascading like a crimson waterfall as she spasmed. She kept coming in one continuous cycle that only increased when I leaned her backwards and took a nipple into my mouth, sucking it and gently nibbling at the very tip. It seemed to go on forever and suddenly I felt the freight train rush in my groin and I was coming too, and the semen gushed as if it would never stop.
By the time we finished, she was little more than a sobbing dead weight in my arms, her head resting on my shoulder. Carefully I cupped my hands under her tender bottom, stood, and carried her through the door and into her bedroom.
I lay down beside her and held her close until our heart rates returned to normal.
“Oh Jack, thank you so much! I’ve never, ever experienced anything like that!”
“To be honest Fiona, neither have I. Anyway, you’re welcome, but I have to say in all honesty that it was my pleasure.”
“Oh you!” she exclaimed and giggled playfully.
“I love it when you do that,” I told her, and kissed her again.
“Do what?”
“Laugh. You don’t do it often enough.”
“I haven’t had much to laugh about.”
“Maybe I can change that for you; after all, I’m told I’m a pretty funny man.”
“What are we going to do, Jack?”
“Well, give me a few of minutes to rest up…”
“You know what I mean.” She was all seriousness again. “This…complicates things.”
“There’s no complication to it, Fiona. We made love; it’s no more complicated than that.”
“Is that what you call it? Making love?”
I looked her in the eyes and made sure she was looking at me before I spoke.
“That’s what I call it because that’s what I did, at least for my part. I’m sorry if you don’t share those feelings, but even so, that doesn’t change mine. I still wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
She swallowed hard.
“I do share those feelings. I love you, Jack; I’ve loved you ever since the first day you walked in here, and that’s the problem.”
I kissed her lips.
“I’ve loved you the same length of time then, and I don’t have a problem with it at all. Not now.”
“You don’t understand!” she said, the frustration plain in her voice.
“Then explain it so I can.”
“I’m twenty nine years old; do you know how many men I’ve been with since I went to prison at fifteen?”
“That’s not the sort of question I would ask a lady or would really want to know the answer to.”
“I’m going to tell you anyway – exactly one, and that was tonight. Fourteen years, Jack.”
I was shocked to say the least. Beautiful women like Fiona didn’t grown on trees, and I would have thought she would have had every male in the area pursuing her.
“I appreciate knowing that, but I still don’t see –”
“Before you, I didn’t need a man, or anything else for that matter; I had Carnifax Academy. This school was everything to me. I knew what it did for me, how it saved my life, and how much good it can do. That’s why, as soon as I graduated from here, I went to college, got my degree, and came straight back to the Academy to work for Mr. Carnifax. He believed in me, and stipulated me as his chosen successor following his death. Can’t you understand this is my world, and I’ve never had to share the room in my heart for anything else until now?”
“And you’re afraid I’ll come between you and the Academy, and take away some of the love and dedication you have for it?”
She nodded sadly.
“That’s not possible,” I told her. “First, because you would never allow it, and secondly, because I would never do it. I happen to love this school too; this past month has been the best one in my career – hell, the best in my life.”
“But that’s only because of me –”
“No!” I cut her off. “Well partly, yes, but that’s not all of it. It’s because I’m doing something meaningful for the very first time since I became a teacher. Do you know what my job was like before? Working for politicians who changed with the winds, teaching ungrateful, unruly, ill-mannered little brats who had no interest whatsoever in learning, and dealing with parents who are convinced that nothing that happened could possibly be their little darlings’ fault.
“It’s not like that here! I’m changing people’s lives for the better; I know I am. Every evening the girls line up to talk to me, to ask my help or my advice, or just to get a little pat on the back. They thank me, Fiona; they’re so grateful just to have someone who gives a damn whether they live or die that they thank me for it, just for being there and listening to them. Some of them have even taken to hugging me every time they get the chance because I’m the closest thing they’ve ever had to a father. That means something! I wouldn’t trade one night in that damned uncomfortable chair holding Connie MacDonald’s hand for every day I spent in the public school system.
“I love you, Fiona, more than I’ve ever imagined it was possible to love another human being, but even if you weren’t here, I still couldn’t leave Carnifax now. I love it too.”
She looked at me with something approaching awe.
“You…really mean that?”
“Look at it this way. You’re the mother of this school. Don’t deny it because some of the girls have told me that’s exactly how they feel about you.” At that, she began crying softly, but I hugged her closer and went on. “I’m the father; you’ve told me that yourself. When people become parents, do they suddenly have to divide up their love to make it go around, or does their love grow to fit?”
She kissed me this time, and did my favorite thing again; she smiled.
“Jack, I really, really love you.”
We kissed again, deeply and tenderly.

***

© Copyright by author, 2005; all rights reserved. No duplication except with author’s permission. CARNIFAX is a work of fiction, and all characters and places depicted in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or to any institution, is purely coincidental.
(send comments to the author: bruketol@yahoo.com

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