Emerson Gets Doubly Disciplined

Literotic asexstories – Emerson Gets Doubly Disciplined by RainyDayPen,RainyDayPen
This is a FF/m spanking story. Aside from the spanking itself, the femdom and emotional elements are gentle and caring. This is the final part of a little series, but can work as a standalone if you’d like. The characters, video game, and university are entirely fictional. Your feedback is always greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

It was a beautiful early May evening, the brink of summer, and today Emerson had come to the familiar, quaint porch happy and free.

“Well?” asked Ms. Hartford, standing in the doorframe.

“I’m here for my spanking?” asked Emerson, because he wasn’t sure what to say. It wouldn’t exactly go that way tonight, with a younger disciplinarian understudy working alongside her.

“Not that! I meant, did you pass all your classes?”

“Yes, ma’am! Thank you for your, um, encouragement.”

“You’re welcome. What good news,” she said, stepping back to allow him inside. “I’m glad you’ll be nice and relaxed. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

There sat a new pit in his stomach. Those words never meant anything good. He heard them right before his last girlfriend broke it off, and most recently when his mother told him that the family cat wasn’t doing well. He had a strange urge to apologize in advance, but refrained.

He took a seat inside on the couch where, normally, Ms. Hartford calmed him and held him after one of his more serious punishments. Today she cleared her throat and asked him all too directly, “Were you the one who left that anonymous comment on my website a few weeks back?”

“No,” he said softly, fiddling suddenly with his hands. He did. More specifically, he had asked if she would ever consider dating any of her clients, and then further inquired about her thoughts on big age gaps. Ms. Hartford hadn’t replied, so he’d been hoping all this time there was a technical error.

“You’re a sweet guy, but a terrible liar,” she said.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t like me, sweetheart. You don’t really know me. You just like the way I treat you. And that’s a good thing, because I’m taking off for the summer. So I’m going to introduce you to someone who I suspect you’ll get along with very well while I’m on vacation.”

His heart broke only out of habit. Then he managed to take in her words. She was right. He didn’t know the first thing about Ms. Hartford. All he knew were his sessions, and the way he felt when under her power. And her being twice his age was fun for his discipline sessions, but maybe less so for dating. She probably still used Facebook. “You’re right, I think.”

“I am,” she said, hugging away any still-hurt feelings. “If it doesn’t quite work out tonight for any reason, don’t fret. I’ll be back in September when you start your third year.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said. “Um, can I ask – is this about sessions or… are you- are you matchmaking?”

She lifted up one corner of a furtive smile before straightening up her expression quickly. “Why would you think that, young man?”

Emerson waited for the doorbell to ring, taking a calming breath. Matchmaking or not, he was a shy guy, and his fantasies and needs often conflicted with that part of him. So right now it felt like the very first day he came here to take his well-earned spanking over Ms. Hartford’s lap. That day, with just her hand alone she spanked him to tears. Well, maybe the guilt over cheating on his exam helped. In the end, he was never more grateful he gathered up the courage to go here. Hopefully today would prove to be the same.

A doorbell snapped him out of his worries. The new disciplinarian came in, and Emerson stood up all of a sudden like it was the nineteen-forties. If he had a hat on he would have removed it.

She wore a black dress that really complimented her figure and made her bubblegum-pink hair stand out. Aside from the fun hair dye, she was such a natural beauty that he immediately looked away, the way a person doesn’t look into the sun. Then his eyes were helplessly drawn back to her, addicted.

His first instinct was to mentally compliment her perfect bone structure and facial symmetry. Then he admonished himself for that thought. So weird. It would even make other art students recoil. Still, he wanted to draw her now.

With heart-sinking horror, he remembered exactly what would happen tonight. She wasn’t here to be drawn. His mind raced around the concept that she’d see him naked soon.

“Emerson, this is Sakura,” said Ms. Hartford. “You’ll call her ‘miss’ tonight.”

He was pretty sure she looked Japanese, but now was positive with a pretty name like that. “Hi, miss,” he said, wishing he had more to add. At least he could be proud that he’d refrained from mentioning her bone structure.

“He’s very shy,” said Ms. Hartford, gently rubbing his shoulder.

“Aww,” said Sakura.

“But he’s a good boy. Very obedient. And he opens up a lot more once you get to know him.”

He felt his face going hot at Ms. Hartford’s perception of him. Not that she was wrong about any of it.

“I guess you go to Carmichael University.”

“Yes, miss.”

“He’s a fine arts major,” said Ms. Hartford. “I don’t imagine a biochem major like you would have seen him around campus much.”

“Oh, that’s probably right. You’ll have to show me your art sometime.” Even if she was just being polite, it was nice to hear. Usually people just made snide comments about his future prospects in the job market.

The two women were now looking over all his forms, getting right to work. The pair perused his preferences and absolutely-nots and it made him so embarrassed already. Sakura knew he’d checked off those boxes, asking for such unusual and sometimes humiliating treatment. He was becoming ashamed of himself rapidly, wondering if he came off like a total pervert.

The younger woman luckily shared a lovely quality with Ms. Hartford; she didn’t laugh at his submissive and masochistic desires. Maybe she’d laugh later on, while he was in his submissive role and they were in their dominant roles – but the real Sakura didn’t laugh at the real Emerson. That already put him more at ease.

“Okay, Sakura. I’m going to teach you how to keep a boy like Emerson in line.”

“I can’t wait,” she said.

“Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for good, right?” checked Ms. Hartford.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

Ms. Hartford was putting away the paperwork and straightening her clothes. His heart pounded hard. They were about to start, weren’t they? As if in response, Ms. Hartford took a seat on the couch. Sakura sat right beside her at the older disciplinarian’s behest.

“Emerson normally wants to be punished in a domestic setting, so I tend to keep him in the living room, and not in the more stylized settings upstairs. Now, let’s see, I’m sure the guiltiest conscience I know can come up with a good reason for a punishment today.”

He nodded slowly, ideas already brimming over. But one stood above the rest, mostly because it actually could cost him thousands of dollars if he got caught somehow.

“Why do you need a good spanking today, Emerson?”

With only a bit of guilty hesitation, he shared his latest crime. It was a very real one, too. “I downloaded a lot of pirated games last night.”

“What a naughty boy,” said Sakura. “That’s stealing!”

“Yes, miss! I know.” It was hard to be scolded suddenly by the beautiful angel sitting there before him. He was doubly ashamed.

“How many games?” asked Ms. Hartford.

“Um,” Emerson looked up at the ceiling, actually counting. “Twelve.”

“Dear Lord,” she sighed. Emerson’s eyes found the floor. “Planning your whole summer out, are you?”

“He’s definitely earned a good spanking,” decided Sakura.

A little whine escaped his throat and Ms. Hartford only reacted with a pat to the seat of his pants. “Arms up.”

Emerson put his hands on his head, knowing this was always how Ms. Hartford prepared him before a spanking. It was one of the more submissive things he did in all these sessions, lifting his arms up and out of the way, giving her free access to pull down his clothes and strip away his dignity.

“So you normally want to undress a boy like Emerson yourself. It seems to add more to his punishment than him baring his own bottom.”

She worked his jeans and underwear off his hips, turning them into fabric puddles around his ankles. Now he stood half-naked before both women, and struggled to keep his hands out of the way. He was so thoroughly embarrassed already.

Emerson was clean-shaven between his legs, which was an order given to him by Ms. Hartford herself. It was meant to constantly remind him of his submissiveness and some rules she’d set in place, like an early bedtime. Today it also served to put his swelling manhood on full display. He knew Sakura must be sizing him up, and it made him squirm right where he stood.

Ms. Hartford directed his mind back to the present moment. “Why are you being spanked, Emerson?”

“For stealing games, ma’am,” he said softly.

“Alright, over you go.”

He rested his slender body over her lap carefully, his jeans still bunched around his ankles. Because Sakura sat right next to her, his stomach and chest ended up over the younger woman’s lap. So a lot more of him was laying over a dominant woman than usual, and it had an effect of sinking him rapidly into a very submissive state of mind. He closed his eyes and lay completely still, accepting whatever fate the two had in store for him.

“This position suits him best,” said Ms. Hartford, emphasizing her statement with a pat to his bare bottom, propped up over her knees. “Being over the lap really gets him in the right mindset and reminds him that right now, he’s a naughty boy about to be spanked.”

Ms. Hartford was right about that. He felt like a naughty boy through and through. Maybe he should have made up a crime a moment ago, confessing to something he’d never do. But instead he told the truth, and he actually felt pretty guilty about it. He probably wouldn’t even play half those games he’d stolen.

“Alright, Emerson. This is what happens to naughty boys who steal. Remember this next time you even consider it.”

She rose up her hand and started his spanking, all firm swats with a steady rhythm, evenly tanning his bottom. None of her spanks were severe, but every last one stung sharply on its own.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Emerson grit his teeth and tried so hard to tough it out. It was a natural reaction in front of (and on top of) a very pretty girl his age. As the spanks kept raining down, biting and hot, he lost more and more of his strength to withstand it. Soon he reacted with an immediate squeaky grunt with every smack.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

“Aww, look at his legs,” noted Sakura. His audience of one was amused enough to laugh lightly, and it took him a moment to catch on. Without him even realizing it, he was slightly kicking his feet up in reaction to each new spank. Just a couple inches off the floor, but it probably looked so embarrassingly juvenile.

“He does that every time,” said Ms. Hartford, still soundly warming his bottom as she explained. This was also news to him, and Emerson felt his face flushing over it.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

“Ungh!” was all Emerson said, mostly in response to a sound whack to his upper thighs. He wiggled more openly now, his whole bottom smarting with the relentless spanking.

“Poor Emerson,” said Sakura. “Your bottom is all pink. I hope you’re learning not to steal again!”

“Oww! Ah! Yes, miss!”

“I didn’t think you were the kind of boy to steal,” said Ms. Hartford, picking up the pace and strength of her work on his bare bottom.

He began to really fuss now, his pained grunts turning more to pitiful yelps as he started writhing. Spankings from Ms. Hartford always seemed to get worse and worse as they went on, even if the strength of her hand remained steady. Just before he could cry out an attempt for mercy, Ms. Hartford paused her work on painting his bottom hot and red and began to rub him.

“You’ve got to comfort a boy like Emerson a bit while punishing him,” said Ms. Hartford. “Some of my clients come here to feel pure pain, but not him.”

He felt her familiar, warm hand, rubbing soothing circles over his burning skin. It made him sigh with a little relief. He loved when she did this, even though his bottom had to suffer a lot to get to this point. Sometimes he wondered if he came here more for the spankings or the maternal comforting he received during and after.

“Why do you come here, Emerson?” asked Sakura.

She sounded genuinely curious to hear his answer, but it was such an embarrassing answer that he kept it to himself, pretending as though he didn’t hear. Ms. Hartford was having none of it, and gave him a little goading pinch to his pink cheek. “Answer her question.”

“To feel better, miss,” he admitted vaguely.

Ms. Hartford instantly elaborated, most unfortunately for him. “It helps him deal with guilt. It makes him feel safe to know he’ll be spanked if he’s been bad, and then forgiven and snuggled afterwards.”

He worried that beautiful Sakura would think he was completely broken for this strange desire. His only answer to that concern was her hand giving him a little affectionate pet over his hair.

“To truly make him feel better, though, you’ve got to let him take a real punishment first. Would you like to try?”

Just about as soon as Sakura said she’d try, Emerson was pulled bodily from one lap to the next. The two women together had no trouble maneuvering a featherweight like himself. Now his chest rested on the open couch cushion, his upper legs were over Ms. Hartford’s lap, and his bottom was right over Sakura’s lovely thigh. His mind reeled over how quickly that happened, and how exciting it was to be pulled around like that.

“Alright, Emerson,” said Sakura. She sounded pretty confident, like she really meant business. “Tell me again why you’re getting spanked.”

“I stole a few games, miss,” he said.

“A dozen stolen games!” Sakura corrected him. “In one night! Bad, bad boy.”

“I won’t do it again!” promised Emerson.

“Really?” asked Sakura. “You’ll never pirate anything again in your whole life?”

He paused and squirmed. His whole life? “Well…”

The two women shared an affectionate kind of laugh before Sakura tapped his cheek, signaling he was about to be warmed back up to a pink colour again.

More petite than Ms. Hartford, Sakura was still no slouch in the spanking department. She reheated his bottom quickly and effectively, delivering a good two dozen more spanks with her hand. He’d begun to scissor kick his legs behind himself by the end of her barrage of stinging slaps. He could only imagine what might happen to him if this was one of his more serious spankings – the ones that always ended in his tears.

“I’m very sorry, miss! Ah! Ah! Ow!”

“I’m sure you’re sorry now that you’re being spanked,” she told him.

“Ahh! Yes, but, aahh!”

He flung his hand behind him, covering up.

“Naughty boy,” Sakura scolded him. “Don’t block your punishment.

“Half the time he does that I think he actually just wants his hand held.”

He whined a little over that personality assessment. Unfortunately, he relaxed so much when Sakura gently held his hand at the small of his back that it was immediately clear Ms. Hartford was correct.

“Aww,” said Sakura. She sure said that about him a lot. “Alright, hold on to my hand. I’ve got you.”

She went back to work on his bottom until he was smarting and burning from his thighs to the middle of his cheeks. She was incredibly thorough in her discipline. No part of his bottom left untouched. But with her hand clutching his, he felt able to handle so much more than usual.

Sakura must have remembering Ms. Hartford’s advice, because she gave him a break to rub him gently. He arched up a little into her palm, all his exhales little sighs. “What games did you steal?” she asked.

“Um, uh, the only one I’ll really play is probably Castle Crafter.”

“I love that game,” she said.

“Really?” he asked. Wow. He sighed in happiness now, not only over her gentle hand still massaging the sting from his bottom, but over their shared video game taste.

“And you stole it!” she scolded him. Her words alone made him squeak. “Have you ever spanked him on his back? Legs up?”

“Not yet,” said Ms. Hartford. “I think that position would suit him wonderfully. Let’s try. Roll over Emerson.”

“Right here?”

“Right here.”

He rolled himself to his back, laying right over the two laps. His wayward erection was just about directly between the women, pointing right to the ceiling and probably impressing nobody at all. It shamed him, which, considering his sexual predilections, only made the whole situation worse.

Sakura made no mention of it, and pulled up his legs like he was a baby getting a diaper change. She held him in that way, his knees just about touching his own chest. The position alone mortified the college student, and to top it all off he felt two different women’s hands on his pink cheeks. They both rubbed him, checking him over.

“He’s not even red yet,” said Ms. Hartford. “I wouldn’t give him anything too harsh tonight, but he can take the hairbrush.”

“Please no!”

“Hush,” said Ms. Hartford. She reached for the implement on the coffee table, and tapped the smooth wooden back of the brush against his hot backside. Sakura held him securely in the humiliating position all the while, one arm holding his legs back, and her hand now pinioning his wrists up above his head.

“Okay, Emerson. You’ve had your warm up. It’s time to really learn a lesson about piracy.”

“I won’t do it again!” he said.

“I’ll show you what will happen if you do.” The brush tapped the lower portion of his right cheek and then it cracked hard against him, instantly making him yelp.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

“Oww!” he squealed. “Ohh! It hurts!”

The hairbrush was almost as bad as that little paddle she once got just for his bottom. It had a smaller surface area, but every slap against his bare skin made him regret every last one of those pirated games.

To make matters worse, his skin was tight and taut in this position, making every spank of the brush an intensely burning sting. His ankles kicked as much as they could with Sakura’s arm holding back his legs. He even tried to pull his wrists back to protect himself, but they were pressed down hard into the couch.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! She hit his left cheek, right cheek, and sometimes the backs of his thighs. Those were the worst spanks of all.

“Aaahh! Noo! Please stop! Ooow!” He twisted and writhed under the stinging hairbrush, doing anything he could to get away.

Sensing some real distress, Ms. Hartford paused to rub him with her hand, checking him over for any marks or potential bruises. Emerson caught his breath in the calm moment, his backside feeling stung by a hundred angry bees.

“He’ll often end up in tears from his more serious spankings,” said Ms. Hartford. If all the heat wasn’t already in his bottom, he’d have blushed now. “But not tonight. Despite his digital hijinks, he’s been a generally good boy this week. Are you still green, Emerson?”

“Mm,” he debated. “I think so, ma’am. It really stings!”

“This position is one of the more painful ones,” she noted, before handing the brush over to Sakura. “Don’t go too hard.”

Ms. Hartford held his legs back now, so Sakura had no trouble with aiming the brush at his cheeks. He winced and squeezed his eyes shut tight, preparing for the worst.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

Emerson squeaked, yelped, and wiggled his way through another dozen fiery whacks with the little wooden hairbrush. The entire time he was trapped between two beautiful women, and held down that way even more tightly than usual. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so incredibly helpless.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

“AAH! I’ll be good! Ow! I’ll be good!” He squirmed as much as he could now, and nearly managed to free his own hands out from under Sakura’s grasp.

“His bottom’s bright red now,” noted Sakura. “I think that’s all he can take.”

“He’s a bit more sensitive here than most men. I think it’s the size of his little bottom.” Ms. Hartford gave him a love pat. “I’ve increased his punishment using the humiliation of the rectal thermometer before. It works well on him.”

“Please no!”

“And he’s in such a good position for it,” said Sakura.

“Nooo!” he squirmed. “I’ll be good from now on! I won’t steal any more games… this summer!”

“I’ll go get it,” decided Ms. Hartford, ignoring Emerson’s whining completely. She walked upstairs, leaving him all legs up, bottom out, half in Sakura’s lap.

“She has one just for you,” said Sakura to him, teasing him about it.

Emerson sighed, defeated.

“What year are you?” she asked, cooling his hot bottom again with her gently stroking palm.

“Going to start my third in September,” he answered, muffled a little by his own legs in this position.

“Starting my final year,” she said.

“Nice,” he said, venturing a peek out from behind his knees. “You won’t tell anyone about this… right?”

“That would be pretty bad for my side hustle,” she said wisely.

“So you’re going to do what Ms. Hartford does?”

“Maybe,” she said. “I’m considering. I think I need a lot more practice first.”

Practice? His ears perked up. He knew someone she could practice on! Any day! Of course, he only decided this based on his bottom currently feeling a lot less like it had been dipped in lava. Shy Emerson heard himself just say, “cool,” to that, and then winced at himself.

By this time, Ms. Hartford was back and rubbing baby oil over the rounded bulb of the large glass thermometer. It was old-fashioned in appearance and oversized to the point of being just about the thickness of a woman’s slim finger.

“Oh please no, ma’am! Please no! I’ll be good from now on!” he whined.

“A little shame should help remind you of the consequences,” said Ms. Hartford.

She swirled the lubricated, fat thermometer against his opening as he tensed and whimpered. A few seconds passed as she waited there, probably for his safeword. When he didn’t say it, she slowly sunk the large, smooth glass tube into his bottom.

The invasion made his muscles clamp up as he moaned in surprise. It was the kind of thermometer only sold in sex shops for the express purpose of punishing consenting miscreants. A thermometer this thick would never be used in any real medical setting. Luckily, his bottom only had to accommodate about half the device’s length.

Ms. Hartford kept the other half in her hand, and gently rocked it back and forth inside him. It made him quickly stiffen back to his full size. He was so embarrassed knowing that Sakura was looking down at him, watching as he was fucked with the little cylinder. At least she might not see how arousing it was for him, with his manhood hidden behind his own legs.

“Is this how you always get your temperature taken?” asked Sakura.

“Only when he’s been a very bad boy!” said Ms. Hartford. She pushed and pulled it rhythmically, very slowly fucking him with the giant thermometer.

It was one of his most shameful punishments, all due to the sensation. The slow thrusts into him made him feel emasculated, small, and thoroughly dominated. It seemed to cause intense arousal, too, which shamed him by way of announcing to all witnesses how much he enjoyed having his bottom filled. He lay back still and repeatedly moaned out little panting complaints right alongside his moans of pleasure.

After a moment, Ms. Hartford simply left it inside him, sticking half out for a whole two or three minutes. He wiggled the entire time. Sakura took some pity over him, and began to softly brush his hair back over his forehead, comforting him through the belittling treatment.

“Let’s see if you have the delusion of fever to blame for your misbehaviour,” said Ms. Hartford. She removed the thermometer carefully, and checked the reading, assuming it actually gave one at all. “Unfortunately not. Looks like you’ll have to take your corner time.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he sighed.

“Twelve minutes,” she sentenced him. “One for each stolen game.”

Twelve minutes was so long when facing the boring walls, being punished like this. But Emerson was an obedient boy, and stood up once Sakura let him.

He’d forgotten his pants were awkwardly wrapped around his ankles, though. Right at his first step, he was falling. Dropping down fast, about to land headfirst into a glass coffee table.

Two arms suddenly clutched him right into a hug, pulling him backwards quickly enough to cause a little whiplash. Emerson landed on the couch, panting from the rush of fright, looking up at his heroine. Sakura. She also looked alarmed, as though unsure if she’d really caught him and prevented what almost just happened.

“Oh my God,” said Ms. Hartford. Sakura had a hand over her heart, and Emerson’s arms and legs went all wobbly. “Good catch.”

“Th-thanks, miss,” he stammered, incredibly impressed. She just saved him from a lifelong ugly scar across his forehead, at the least. It was so cozy there in Sakura’s arms, he almost didn’t want to get up, even after his heart stopped pounding like a frightened rabbit.

She pat his shoulder, and eventually reminded him that he still had corner time to serve. Ms. Hartford pulled his pants completely off, not wanting to test Sakura’s dexterity a second time tonight.

Emerson headed to his shameful place in the corner, naked from the waist down. At least the near-death experience shrunk his overly excited penis back down to its usual size. He tucked his hands over his head as he was normally required to do in this position.

“Don’t leave him there for too long if you do this,” said Ms. Hartford. She was speaking very quietly, but Emerson heard every word. “He’s vulnerable now. Don’t make him think you’ve forgotten him there.”

Sakura whispered something, too hard to hear, and ended it with a giggle. What was that? Emerson was worried, but stayed where he was like a good boy, determined to earn his forgiveness like always.

Even without the mysterious giggle, just knowing two strong women watched him now made it doubly shameful to stand there like a naughty boy. He kept rocking on his feet and comforted himself with the knowledge that Sakura basically saved his life. More or less. How could anyone be more trustworthy than that?

“Okay, Emerson,” said Ms. Hartford. “That’s twelve minutes.”

It felt like a thousand minutes, but he didn’t say that. His bottom still felt a little sore as it was. He turned to face her as she walked to him, keeping his hands up as usual.

“Have you learned your lesson?” she asked, her voice more sweet than stern.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Come here,” she said, pulling him into a gentle hug. “You’re a good boy. Your punishment is all over now.” She rubbed his back in circles until all the tension drained out of him.

Sakura came over and helped dress him. Ms. Hartford let him balance against her as she pulled his clothes back up his legs. It wasn’t fully necessary, but Emerson had slipped gently into that docile state of mind where he had very little initiative to do anything he wasn’t directly ordered to do. It helped, for now, that they had taken over.

Ms. Hartford took him on the couch to snuggle against her side, and Sakura massaged his back, reminding him in soft whispers that it was all over now. He was safe. It was all going to be alright. He closed his eyes, so calm he was becoming sleepy.

With a little click of her tongue and a stronger rub against his shoulder, Ms. Hartford pulled him back up to the surface. “Don’t fall asleep now, sweetheart. I’ve got someone else coming in half an hour.”

He nodded, blinking himself awake. Sakura went off to powder her nose, so to speak. And that’s when the little whispers all started.

“You like her?” asked Ms. Hartford.

He nodded and confessed in a whisper, “Very much.”

“I think she’s fond of you too.”

“You think?”

“Mmhmm. It’s obvious. Anyway, she whispered to me that you’re completely adorable. So don’t be shy,” she advised. “Ask her out.”

“But what if it’s just a stupid little crush again? Because she gave me what I wanted?”

“It probably is, but I guess all romance starts out that way. No one knows how it’s going to work out. At least she’s your own age.”

“A year older.”

“Oh good,” she said. “You do like older women. Go on. You can do it. This will be much less embarrassing than everything that happened earlier tonight. Even if she says no.”

Once she returned, Emerson watched Sakura collect her things, swinging her purse over her shoulder. “Um,” he began regretfully. “Uh. Are you staying around campus this summer?”

“I’m taking a couple of classes over the summer semester, yeah.”

“Nice. Me too. Well, I’m staying here, uh, like working a summer co-op thing. So. Yeah. Um.” He trailed off there.

Ms. Hartford winced on his behalf, and he lowered his head a little, nearly as ashamed as when his red rear-end was stuffed full of a thermometer. A little nudge to his shoulder implored him to try again.

“Do you like coffee?” he tried.

“No,” she said. “Not really.”

He pointed his eyes right back to the carpet. Rejected twice in one night! Now his heart was breaking less out of habit and more from reality. It was a hollow and cold sensation that burst into his whole chest cavity.

“I much prefer tea,” she said. “I’ll show you my favourite place. Will you give it a shot, or are you super set on coffee?”

He nodded, feeling just as startled and rescued as when she prevented his crash into the glass coffee table. His hands even trembled just as much. And from his side, he heard Ms. Hartford breathe out her own anxiety over the awkward tension she’d just witnessed.

“Have fun you two,” she told them, giving each one a hug and a kiss to the cheek. “See you in September, Emerson. Or… maybe not. We’ll see how it all plays out.”

The two university students shared a little awkward laugh, stepping onto a precipice of something new and a little shaky and scary. But it was very exciting and fun all the same. Sakura held out her hand to secure his, walking him back to campus close by her side. They talked, getting to know one another better, and Emerson found each new sentence a little easier to say than the last.

Emerson didn’t know whether he and Sakura would even go on a second date. It was still nice, all the same. It was a good night. He’d passed all his classes and survived another year, in great part to learning a lot about himself and his needs through Ms. Hartford. Sakura rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand, and he looked up to smile his glee at the stars. His whole future lay ahead of him, and it seemed brighter than ever before.