my wife I wouldn’t have sex with any eighteen year olds this year.”
I pulled away as I felt he wished me to do and kept my 1.5 spanking induced orgasms a secret from him, since he was so determined to behave well.
I asked him if I might email with him now and then and ask him questions about English literature and he gave me his address.
What a lovely man!
Chapter Four Amanda’s Diary December
December 1st
Met a most unusual and highly simpatico girl today as a direct result of Hugo’s magazine (with me on the cover) coming out. I’d pretty much forgotten the little squib that Hugo inserted about me (with the stage name April Sebastian) looking to assemble a video cast in Boston for my freshman film project. Not that I’ll even get into a film class until next year, but I can begin stockpiling material now. Hugo says that nothing I can do in this area will be wasted, for when a young girl into spanking creates spanking erotica, the result is always sure to be of interest to the spanking community at large.
I’m not sure I’ll be able to get away with this, but if I work it right, I’ll also be able to get an economics paper or perhaps even a thesis out of the idea, in due course. My plan is to start a small business from scratch, on the cheap, develop my own marketing strategy and whether it fails or succeeds, use the data gathered in the experiment for academic credit. (Of course, it will succeed. How could it fail with Hugo’s mailing list behind me and an angle no one in the spanking biz has pursued so far - young, hip, and a little hip hop.)
Thalia Dunbar, a sophomore at B.U., saw the ad and called me. We met for lunch at The Grist Mill and is she cute! Wonderfully curvaceous, slim-waisted torso, baby-faced features, creamy complexion, blue eyes and chin length, straight brown hair. She told me she’d just started getting Hugo’s magazine and couldn’t believe how good it was, that she didn’t really know if she was into spanking, but that the pix and stories were so hot that they turned her on.
She said she was a secret exhibitionist and had been a bad girl since age 14, so she was up for being in a video, either giving or receiving and that she was very interested in working with men of color, if they were beautiful. I showed her photos of Tommy and Ronnie on my camera and she agreed they were extremely good-looking. Not that Ronnie would ever agree to be in my video, but I’ll bet I can get him to work the camera. I’ve already decided to offer both of them a financial partnership with me in lieu of compensation. Thalia told me she could find me other cast members because she ran into freaks all the time. I told her I’d give her a finder’s fee for every one she found that I could use but she said what she really wanted was to meet Hugo. I told her nothing could be easier, as I have a standing invitation to visit whenever I want.
We agreed to take the train to Random Point this weekend to scout out locations for our first shoot. Maybe that nice Mr. Flagg will let us use his tavern after hours. I know I made a good impression on him.
December 2nd
Still reeling from the unsettling encounter with Castor Reyes in the quad this afternoon. I was returning from the library as a light snow began to fall. He marched up to me, brandishing the New Rod Quarterly (with me on the cover) in my face. Then he said, perfectly hatefully, “So, this is what my frosty virgin does in her spare time!” I could only stare at him dumbly, then mumble something like, “Where did you get that?”
“At the Globe.”
“Just happened to catch your eye, did it?” I asked.
“Yes, I was looking for something erotic to read, as a substitute for sex, because my girlfriend doesn’t put out. Except maybe for her father!”
“That’s an ugly thing to say,” I replied, trying to walk away, but he blocked me.
“Don’t walk away from me. I want to know what kind of game you’ve been playing with me. Why have you been stringing me along for weeks, pretending to be pure and renunciant when all along you’re planning to ...” he looked up my ad for the video cast and read aloud, “write, direct and star in your own spanking video this year!”
“Gee, you really read that thing from cover to cover, didn’t you?” I marveled. “I’m surprised it held your interest to that degree.”
“I’ll tell you what really holds my interest, spanking the hell out of you for holding me in a state of suspended hard-on for over a month... for what? Fun? To see how long you could frustrate me before I went raving mad???”
I protested, “I thought you were old fashioned... a traditional Latin male, who would value me more highly if you had to woo me a bit.”
“A bit? One kiss last week was as much as I’ve gotten from you. What kind of stereotype do you think you’re dealing with? Some sort of Ramon Novarro mamma’s boy, confessional-kneeling pansy? I was born in Manhattan in the 1980’s, not Mexico City in the 1880’s. You think I wanted you because you were pure?”
“Does this mean you aren’t going to continue tutoring me?” I asked.
He looked at me for a moment before replying, then practically jumped down my throat with renewed indignation, “Oh, I’ll tutor you all right. I’ll goddamned drill you mercilessly. Be at my room tonight at nine!”
He turned to stomp away before hearing my reply. I called, “Castor!” The moment he turned to look at me I snapped him with my camera.
“What the hell are you doing?” he growled.
“I’ve never had a scolding from a college boy before,” I told him, tucking the camera away, “I wanted to capture your face.” He scowled and walked off. I studied the face on the way back to my dorm. Short, soft brown hair, wide-set hazel eyes, high brow, high cheek bones, pencil moustache tapering off to a sexy five o’clock shadow, strong chin, golden skin tone with an under flush now he was aroused - quite the most beautiful boy in all Boston. Oh goddess of love, let him be as potent as he looks!
December 3rd
Completely and most dreadfully in love, I write this first thing before class. Spent the night with Castor and ran back from his dorm just now in a freezing rain. The sky is like lead and it looks to rain all day. Only two hours before class and I’m starving, should shower and change, but let me just say....
I had knocked on his door on the second floor of Wigglett at ten p.m., dressed in a navy wool dress with a white linen collar and three quarter sleeves, sheer cream thigh high stockings and high, stack heeled, chestnut leather roll top knee high boots. He called for me to come in and was waiting for me, sitting on a chair with a riding crop between his hands. Dressed in black jeans, some kind of hot black boots and a tucked out grey cotton shirt. He sprang to his feet (as I started at the crop) and hastened to lock the door behind me, as if I might bolt if he didn’t at once. It was a single with a window on the yard, with the hardwood floor and dark wood wainscoting that makes this dorm so desirable. Lightning struck, then thunder, then it started to rain and continued raining all night.
“Where the hell have you been? I thought I said nine.” he demanded, taking the books out of my hands and tossing them on the desk. My eyes went to the neatly made single bed with its grey comforter and white linen. It looked inviting, like a page out of a Restoration Hardware catalog. It even coordinated with my navy outfit. The whole room was meticulously
