A Spanking Basket

Timmy's in Trouble

He was pulling his door closed behind him and didn't even see her coming. "You're in trouble there, Timmy", she said brightly.

He jumped-startled. Chelsea Fisher, backlit by the glass door to the street looked almost bigger than life coming back onto the hall from a softball game. She, as was typical, carried some of the field with her-dirt on her bare thigh and up the side of her tight shorts, grass stain on her other hip. The eye black that she wore on each cheekbone was smeared and glistening with perspiration. She enjoyed being an athlete and having an excuse to carry off the swagger that she came by naturally.

"Did we win?" he asked trying to move the conversation in a different direction. No dice.

"Found a half case of empties in your room this morning when you were in the shower."

"What were you doing in my room?"

"You're a two-time offender sonny. As the RA on this floor it's my job to conduct searches when there are suspicions of the presence of alcohol. Freshmen! You guys weren't even quiet last night!" She said this with a bit of a grin but held up her finger before Tim could defend himself. "And...I said not a word last week when that kid-the redhead...what's his name...?"

"Randall. Randy Johnson...."

"Right! I said nothing when he stumbled down the hall from your room puffs of weed trailing behind. Let it slide...But last night. Again?" She leaned close enough that he could smell the peppermint gum before she poked him in the chest lightly with her finger. "I get the feeling that you don't respect my authority". The grin was still there but there was something else in her eyes. He had to look up a little to meet them and his breath was coming in small gulps. "So come on down to the room so I can write you up."

"Dammit!" he said almost in a whine.

"Come on". When she turned he saw that the grass stain on her hip bloomed across her strong bottom where his eyes fell. He followed behind like what he was-an errant schoolboy-happy that she wasn't dragging him by the ear. But something in his mien felt right as he followed her, dragging his feet.

Chelsea slowed her pace but didn't look back. She could hear him there, slinking behind. Good. He was following her. She never knew how far she could push the "authority" thing. That he had slid in obediently behind was a good sign. She lightened her step a bit.

They stopped in front of her door at the end of the hall. "Here", she said tossing him her fielder's glove so she could pull her key over her head where it hung on a shoestring. Hanging the key around her neck was retro as hell but it worked for her. Indeed, she had caught enough guys-and more than a few girls-staring at it nestled in her cleavage that she made it part of her wardrobe-changing shoestrings to match her clothes.

"Yes, by the way", she said opening the door.

"Yes, what?"

"We won. Seven to three."

"What did you do?" he said following her inside.

"Three hits-sliding catch in right. That's where this grass came from" she rubbed her hip and slid her hand unselfconsciously over her backside. Tim's heart fluttered a bit at that.

"What about that?" he asked pointing at the dirt on her thigh.

"That's because I'm a klutz. Stumbled rounding first and had to scramble back. Totally embarrassing. Sit", she pointed to a couch that took the place of a second bed in a room that should have been a double. Perk of being a Resident Assistant.

She took off her cap and shook out her blonde hair vigorously before pulling it into a loose pony tail. "Look at this mess" she grabbed a towel from the back of a chair and rubbed at the dirt on her leg. "Just dust but...what a klutz!" She shook her head seemingly smiling at the memory and turning, bent to pull out the lower desk drawer.