Practice Will Always Make Perfect


Part 3 of Practice Makes Perfect

Amy’s substitute teacher just happens to be Jeremy.  And she’s kinda craving his special kind of attention.  So she pushes every button til she gets it.


It was the second week into the second semester of my senior year in high school and they still hadn’t found a replacement teacher for our orchestra conductor. All we had was substitutes who couldn’t tell the difference from a cello and a violin (no offense if you don’t know the difference, but you’d do us no good, either!). So we were working on our second week of having not played with a surprise walked through the door that even I wasn’t expecting.

“Okay, everyone… we’re actually going to play today,” the figure said, standing in front of the class. I don’t think half of us heard him because we were all talking… and actually, I’d heard him, but didn’t care much until I turned around and saw Jeremy standing there.

“Guys! It’s Jeremy!” I whispered. They’d known that Jeremy and I had been good friends back in the day and they knew that I was playing in the Centenary Orchestra with him.

The glanced up and whispered back, “Wow! He is cute!”

“Settle down, guys…” Jeremy said, trying to hush the crazy class.

The noise began to die down, but not before my friend said, “You didn’t know he was coming?”

“Hadn’t a clue. Maybe he just decided.”

Finally, the room was quiet and Jeremy was allowed to explain himself. “I’d heard that your teacher left to go to New York or something, huh?”

Everyone nodded.

“Well, some of you may know me… I graduated from here two years ago as a viola player..”

I yelled, “Whoooo!!! Go violas!” You know… like violas were cool or something. Yeah, orchestra was about the only class I was a smartass in because most of the people in there liked me.

Jeremy smiled and continued. “And anyway… I’m in my second year of college and since all you have to have is some college to be a substitute, I offered to take over her classes until they can find a replacement.”

I grinned from ear to ear. Hopefully they wouldn’t find a replacement anytime soon!

“Now… I know how Ms. Jones was… She was my teacher for at least seven years. I know what she does and does not tolerate, and you can expect me to be the same way. You will treat me with the same respect that you do her. I won’t allow you to goof off in class. Otherwise, we’ll be having a fun time and we’ll still get to compete in state competition and we’ll still get to go to Tennessee like she’d planned.”

There was an almost simultaneous, “Yay!”

Everyone got their things out of their lockers and started tuning up and stuff. No one would admit it, but I actually think we were a little excited to get to play again. It’d been a while since we’d gotten to work on any music… at least a month.

Jeremy passed out parts to some new pieces to see what we thought of them and I’ll have to admit that he has good taste. Plus, he’s a viola player so he didn’t give us blow off parts. It was great!! I was so ecstatic that at the end of class, I went up and gave him a hug.

“How come you didn’t tell me you’d be coming?”

“Were my hints too subtle for you? I told ya that I had a surprise and you’d find out in the morning.”

I thought back to the evening before when we were talking on the phone. “Apparently they were a little too subtle cause I didn’t catch on. But I’m excited!”

“Yeah, but Amy, be good, okay? Just because you’re my friend doesn’t mean that you can get away with stuff that everyone else can’t.”

“You shouldn’t be worried about me being good,” I teased, noting that the next class was coming inside.

“If you were good, you’d be getting to class!” he teased back. “Now go!”

“Aye aye, captain!” I said, saluting him and stalking off.

The next couple of days were a mixture of good and bad. Good because I got to see Jeremy everyday and he was total eye candy, but bad because he was as repetitive and boring as my old teacher. We kept playing the same parts over and over and over again until we perfected it, so I decided to be a little devious.

“Do we really have to keep playing this same part?” I complained.

He shot me a glare soooo mean. “Yes, Amy, we do.” He raised his hands to conduct us over the same part again and I didn’t even bother playing. “Amy, you’re part of the viola section, yes?”

“I guess,” I muttered.

“I asked the violas to play which means that you should be playing as well, am I correct?”

“I guess, but this is stupid. I don’t want to keep playing the same part over and over and over!”

He didn’t look too happy. I could only hope that this would result in a spanking after school! No such luck, however. He simply sat down and said, “Which means you’ve perfected it, I assume?”


“Let’s hear it then.”

“Excuse me?”

“You claim that you’ve perfected it, so let’s hear you play it, up to tempo.”

“Up to tempo?” I gulped… that wasn’t quite the reprimand I’d been expecting.

“Yes,” he turned the metronome on and the fast clicks matched the beating of my heart. Arggh, that damn thing drives me crazy! It’s so we can keep the beat and I literally despise it. Jeremy knows that.

“Any day now,” he urged.

Scowling, I raised my instrument and played the measures that we’d had to keep repeating. Of course, I failed miserably. Surprise? I think not.

“Oh? I thought you could play it perfectly?”

I blushed to no end. He wasn’t supposed to humiliate me in front of the class like that!

When I gave no answer, he continued with the lesson, “Violas, from the top of the measure, and this time, Miss Amy is going to join us.”

I rolled my eyes at him, casting him a look as if saying that I wanted to kill him. So, like a puppy beaten into submission, I played the damn part over and over and over again.

At the end of class, I went up to yell at Jeremy for embarrassing me in front of the class, but he beat me to it.

“How dare you act like this class is your playtime,” he scolded.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to go and embarrass me like you did!”

“I didn’t? Seemed to me like you were showing out and practically asking for….” he stopped dead in his sentence. “Oh… I see. So you want a…?” he paused, not completing his sentence or allowing me to answer him. “Well, we’ll see about that,” he concluded, then walked off, leaving me standing in the front of the class, stunned.

I racked my brain the rest of the day to try and figure out what in God’s name he had been getting at. I mean, it looked like I’d earned my spanking, but it didn’t sound like it’d be one that I’d like. I spent the rest of the day fidgeting, waiting for the minutes to pass so the final bell would ring. Of course, you know how those days are. They crawl by endlessly as if they’re waiting for Christmas. I felt like I was waiting for Christmas!

The 3:30 bell finally rang and everyone shoved out of my English class, talking loudly about their plans for the evening. That’s what I loved about being a senior… the classes were so damn easy, you could hang out with your friends during the week!

I tried to find Jeremy after school to see what his deal was, but he was nowhere to be found. I tried calling his cell phone, but no answer. There was this feeling in my stomach that I didn’t particularly care for too much. Why was he avoiding me?

Instead of going straight home like I would have normally done, I went to the park for a minute to smoke a cigarette or two. Yes, it was illegal and no, my parents didn’t know I did it, nor did Jeremy. In fact, I think the only people who did were the runners on the track who saw me about once a week smoking the same pack of Salems. I only did it when I was really pissed or really stressed, and at this point in time, I couldn’t figure out what it was that I was feeling.

I hadn’t been at the park longer than ten minutes when I felt my phone vibrating inside my pocket. I reached it out to see that Jeremy was calling.

“Hello?” I answered, taking a final puff of my cigarette and throwing it on the ground.

“Where are you?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Don’t be a brat, Amy, you’re in for it enough already. Just answer me.”

I scowled. “At the park.”

“Come to my apartment.”


“If you’d rather me pick your ass up from the park, I’ll do that.”

I had sudden images of Jeremy’s tall frame dragging me across the parking lot of the park towards his car. Didn’t like the sound of that. “Um, I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

I hauled ass to my car, smirking slightly. Brats like me *always* got what they wanted! What I wanted was a good spanking from Jeremy… when did I not want that? And now I was going to get it, just like a real punishment… just like the first time he spanked me!

I shifted nervously in anticipation on my drive to Jeremy’s apartment. The music was blaring, but I couldn’t hear it… my heart was thumping too loudly. I finally pulled up to his place and knocked slightly on the door.

He opened it and pulled me inside. “Come here,” he ordered, shutting the door and walking towards the dining room table.

“What is it?” I asked exasperatedly.

“I am sick and tired of you acting up in my class and I’m going to put a stop to it, Young Lady, do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” I answered sarcastically.

He groaned and moved his hands towards the button on my jeans. “Well, you wanted it, and you got it,” he told me then quickly undid my jeans and tugged them down to the floor angrily. He might as well have shoved me over the table, cause that’s what it felt like he was doing.

“What…?” I began, but broke off when he began pulling my panties down to the floor.

“Over the table, Amy, and don’t so much as move, got it?”

“Erm, okay,” I said, gulping.

I leaned over the table, arms under me, catching a sort of chill from being bared from the waist down. It was silent for a couple of seconds and then I heard it: the clanging sound and then leather sliding through loops. Ohhhh no!

“Jeremy… are you…?”

He answered me with more clanging sounds and then a slap across the bottom.

I shrieked. “OOOWWWW!!” I howled, reaching back and grabbing my backside.

He grabbed my wrists, pushing me back down on the table and landing three hard smacks right in a row on my sitspots.

“Ahhhh, Jeremy!” I squealed. “That hurts!”

“But isn’t this what you wanted?” he sneered, landing more smacks.

The pain was crazy! True, I’d wanted a spanking, but not this! Each deafening smack was landing ontop of another, then followed by my screams and apologies.

“Do you see what happens when you disrupt my class, Amy?” he asked, hitting my thighs and causing me to make the same noise that an opera singer might make.

“Yesssssss, sirrrr!” I howled.

“And are you going to pop off smartass comments to me?”

“Noooo, sirrrr!!!”

“I am SICK of your defiance, Young Lady,” he bellowed, not allowing me breathing time to regain myself. “And I will not tolerate this any longer. Anymore lip out of you and you’ll be one very very sorry little girl, do you understand?”

“Yessssss, sirrrrrrrr!!” I said, squirming to no end. “I’m sorrrryyyy!!”

“You better be, because this will be a piece of cake compared to what happens if we have this problem again.” He finished up with a very hard smack to each thigh then sat me down at the dining room table. He took out three sheets of paper and wrote at the top of the first one “I will do as I’m told in class and not make inappropriate comments.”

He handed me the paper. “I want three pages, front and back, of these lines, to be turned into me tomorrow in front of the class.”

I sniffled, nodding and shifting once more on my sore bottom.

He patted my head. “Good girl,” he said, then smirked and handed me the pencil, then made his way to watch tv. I glowered at him from across the room. Lines are NOT fun!

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