PSYCHOLOGY
by
Joe Whatever
"I agree that denting your car and driving away without leaving a
note was inexcusable," the girl's mother said. "But is corporal
punishment absolutely necessary?"
"It is essential," the headmaster replied. "Are you familiar with
the procedure?"
"No," the woman replied, nervously. "Perhaps you can brief me."
"Much of the impact is psychological, not physical," the headmaster
explained. "I don't hit all that hard; the shame and humiliation
are the real punishment."
"I start by ordering the offender to her feet, and telling her
that she has some explaining to do," he chuckled, "while I tap
the paddle against my palm. It's quite amusing really, watching
the poor girl stare at the paddle as she sweats and fidgets and
pleads for mercy."
He snickered. "Age vanishes; as soon as she sees me holding that
paddle, she turns into a tongue-tied little girl.
"After she is over my knee, I take my time questioning and scolding
her," he said, merrily. "By the time I raise her skirt and begin
toying with the waistband of her panties, the girl's a wreck. Tell
me, how old is your daughter?"
"Nineteen," the mother replied.
"At that advanced age, the shame and humiliation of having your
underpants lowered for a spanking is as bad as the punishment
itself," he explained.
"I draw out the suspense and let the girl frantically plead to
keep her bottom covered. But in the end I always spank on the
bare...the older the girl the better."
He nodded.
"Running my hand over the girl's bare bottom magnifies her
discomfort and embarrassment," he continued. "If all goes well,
she is crying long before the spanking even begins. Mostly I
use my hand; the paddle is just a capper," he said, pedantically.
"A few hours standing out in the main hallway with a sign on her
back, bottom bared for one and all to see, is highly therapeutic."
"Actually, sir, my daughter wasn't driving that day," she said,
quietly.
"Really? Well, whoever WAS driving will be punished instead."
"I was driving," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper.
He stared in stunned disbelief at the 38-year-old woman sitting
across the desk from him. She was slender, with striking green
eyes and long auburn hair. A most attractive package....
With effort, the headmaster regained his composure. His smile
faded as he barked, "On your feet, young lady."
The surprised woman obediently rose to her feet, and a trickle of
sweat ran down her back. He picked up the paddle.
"You have some explaining to do, Missy!" he said harshly as he
began tapping the paddle against his palm.
Her mouth turned to cotton; her hands trembled. The years melted
away as she stood pigeon-toed in front of his desk, hands behind
her back and head down, awkwardly stuttering excuses as she stared
at the menacing paddle....
Edited by C. Lakewood