The next day, Anderson sent for me. At St Martinas each student has their own pigeonhole in the corridor off the main hall. Our names are printed underneath our slot in tiny, neat silver lettering, and any letters or parcels addressed to us end up there. Internal mail is dealt with that way as well, and everyone checks their box at least once a day.
I never usually received anything very exciting. Letters from home were rare, and it was much more common to find an updated timetable, or a marked piece of work in my pigeonhole. That was why I wasn't terribly excited when I picked up the small manila envelope: I recognised it as school stationary. What set my heart beating was the handwriting on the envelope. It was Anderson's. I'd recognise it anywhere.
Stashing the envelope in my bag I made my way to my next class. It was History, and I made a point of sitting right at the back so I wouldn't be disturbed. As everyone else opened up their textbooks, I slipped the letter from my bag into my notes, and then quietly slit it open while the teacher was talking.
Inside was a single sheet of paper, with only a few sparse words written on it:
You may be of assistance to me tonight. My office. Six o' clock. Anderson.
It was strange, but just those few hastily-scribbled words were enough to set my heart racing. I could feel a pulse beating in my sex, feel the heat there. I felt like I was suddenly hypersensitive to everything. Subtly I shifted against my seat, reawakening the pain in my backside. I gripped the edge of my desk, struggling to control myself. Not here. I would wait. At six o' clock tonight I would see him again. Maybe even be punished by him again. Maybe more...
Waiting out the day was impossible, torturous. I tried to lose myself in studying, but every few minutes my mind would drift back to Anderson and his office and the torture or the ecstasy that awaited me there. It seemed as though I'd never be able to last all the way until the evening.
Somehow though, I did. At five thirty I changed into fresh clothes and checked myself in the mirror. I wanted to be as close to perfect as I could possibly be for him. I had chosen a short black skirt and a loose blouse on top - feminine and yet (my mind raced) easily removed. I touched up my makeup, tidied my hair and then set off for his office.
I arrived a few minutes early, and waited in the corridor, determined to obey his instructions to the letter. At exactly six, I raised a trembling hand, took a long, slow, deep breath and knocked on his door. The last time I did so it had been only a few minutes until I found myself bound securely to a wooden bench, being thrashed soundly with a cane. A shiver ran up my spine.
"Enter," called Anderson.
I did so, shutting the door behind me. At the sight of the punishment bench in the middle of the office my heart leapt and started racing like a rabbit's. Anderson sat at ease behind his desk, finishing some paperwork. He was as calm and inscrutable and handsome as ever. With barely a glance in my direction he gestured for me to come closer.
"Listen carefully - I'll only say this once. You are to strip down to your underwear, and then kneel in the corner facing the wall, with your hands on the back of your head. Do you understand?"
I blinked. The instructions had been delivered so rapidly and matter-of-factly that they caught me off guard. For a moment I felt like asking why he wasn't directing me to the bench in the middle of the room, but I caught myself.
"Yes, sir," I said.
I set about removing my clothes. Part of me couldn't stop myself glancing over to Anderson to see if he was watching, but he appeared oblivious to my emerging nakedness. I folded my blouse and skirt and put them neatly on the corner of the desk, then dropped to my knees in the corner and put my hands behind my head. The floor was hard and I felt vulnerable with my back to the room, unable to see a single thing that was going on behind me.
For long minutes I knelt there, unmoving, uncertain what was about to happen. When, finally, there came a tentative knock at the door I almost jumped out of my skin. I was so tense, my heart beating hard and regular in my chest.
"Enter," called Anderson to whoever it was outside the door. I heard the office door open and shut.
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