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Patricia's Paddling
by Anonymous Author (1999)

***

A story about school discipline. (M/f-teen, spank, no-
sex)

***

It was late on a Friday afternoon and one of the last 
football games of the season for Austin High reached a 
climax as the school's star player scored another 
touchdown. If they could only maintain this lead they 
would be through to the final of the schools' 
tournament! 

On the touchline seventeen year old Patricia Garfield, 
Austin's principal cheerleader, danced up and down in 
her enthusiasm. If the team won she would lead the 
procession of cheerleaders out in the massive town 
stadium on final's day with the eyes of everyone upon 
her. This had been her ambition for as long as she 
could remember.

The lead was maintained. The cheers were deafening and 
Patricia threw her pompom sticks high into the air in 
celebration. She could not control her excitement and 
as the defeated team trooped off disconsolately she 
jeered at them: "We screwed you, you fuckers!"

Unfortunately for Patricia her thoughtless words were 
overheard by Mr. Grant, one of the Austin teachers. He 
grabbed her and marched her off to the principal's 
office.

Mr. Louvish, the principal, was disgusted when he 
heard of the language Patricia had used. He told the 
girl that she would not now be allowed to represent 
the school at the Final. Almost in tears, Patricia 
pleaded with him. She said that she never used words 
like that normally (this was true) and that it was 
only because she'd been so excited. She told him that 
it had always been her ambition to lead the school 
cheerleaders at a major event. Mr. Louvish began to 
feel sorry for her but he told her that she had been 
representing the school that afternoon and had let 
everybody down and he had no choice except to impose a 
severe punishment.

Patricia continued to implore him, asking if there was 
any other punishment she could be given. At last he 
gave way, saying that there would be one acceptable 
alternative. Patricia could be sent to the deputy 
principal for a paddling. These punishments were 
always carried out after school on Friday afternoons. 
Theoretically all pupils in the school were liable to 
these but in practice it was rare for fifteen year 
olds and above to be punished in this way.

Nearly all of the boys in Patricia's class had felt 
the sting of the school paddle at one time or another 
before they left the ninth grade, but probably only 
about a quarter of the girls. Patricia herself had 
never been sent for a paddling, but she was no 
stranger to corporal punishment - her bottom had 
several times felt the hard back of the hairbrush her 
mother favored, although the last time was over two 
years before. It was humiliating but, Patricia 
thought, preferable. She agreed.

Mr. Louvish looked at his watch. "That's lucky," he 
said. "Mr. DiMarco will be carrying out his 
corrections right now." He wrote a brief note, put it 
in an envelope, sealed it and then handed it to 
Patricia, telling her to report to Mr. DiMarco for her 
punishment.

The deputy's office was two corridors away from that 
of the principal. As it came in sight Patricia saw a 
short queue of four pupils, three boys and a girl, 
waiting outside. No one said a word as she joined the 
end of the line. There was a strict 'No talking' rule 
outside that office. None of the others imagined that 
the seventeen year old, still wearing her 
cheerleader's outfit was there for a paddling. They 
assumed that she had to talk to Mr. DiMarco about 
something.

The other pupils were all much younger than Patricia. 
The oldest appeared to be the boy at the end of the 
line, just before her. He seemed to be about fifteen. 
He was a big boy, taller than Patricia, but he looked 
quite scared. At the front of the queue were two small 
boys, about eleven years old, both looking completely 
unconcerned. They seemed like proper little toughs. 
The only other girl stood behind them. She was about 
twelve or thirteen, her breasts just beginning to 
swell. She was obviously agitated and could not keep 
still. Patricia saw her hands go subconsciously to the 
seat of her jeans, only to be snatched away as she 
realized what she was doing.

As Patricia studied her fellow victims she suddenly 
heard a loud WHACK! through the closed door. She 
realized that someone was already in the office being 
paddled. The noise sounded frighteningly loud through 
the closed door. There was a pause and then the sound 
of another loud swat. This time Patricia thought she 
heard a sharp gasp of pain after the whack. The third 
whack followed and this time there was definitely a 
distinct yelp afterwards. Then there was another pause 
before the door opened and a young colored boy 
emerged. He was obviously a classmate of the two other 
boys at the front of the line. He grinned at his two 
friends and gave them the thumbs up sign to try to 
show them that he hadn't been hurt. He walked back 
down the corridor and the next boy went into the 
office.

The other two boys both received three swats in their 
turns. As they took their punishments Patricia saw the 
other girl get more and more distressed. She looked 
around desperately as if hoping that someone would 
come and rescue her and say that she be let off. But 
no-one appeared and when the third boy came out, fists 
clenched tightly at his sides, she had to go in. The 
door closed behind her.

Patricia was hoping that Mr. DiMarco would go easier 
on girls, but when the sound of the paddle came it was 
louder, if anything, than the preceding whacks. This 
time it was followed by a shriek of pain and then the 
sound of the girl bursting into tears. A second whack 
followed and the yell of pain horrified Patricia. Then 
she heard the loud sobs of the punished girl. Patricia 
waited for the third whack, but it didn't come. 
Instead the door opened and the weeping girl appeared, 
one hand pressed tight to the seat of her jeans. Her 
face was bright red and tears streamed down her 
cheeks. She scuttled off down the corridor as fast as 
she could.

Now only the tall fifteen year old remained ahead of 
Patricia. He gritted his teeth and walked into the 
office. The door closed.

His punishment was obviously more severe than the 
earlier ones. He managed to remain silent after the 
first three whacks, but the fourth swat brought forth 
a full- blooded yell. Patricia wondered how many he 
was going to get. He was silent after the fifth, but 
the sixth, which turned out to be the last, sounded 
especially loud and resulted in a bellow of pain. When 
he stumbled out Patricia looked up and saw that there 
were tears in the boy's eyes.

Finally it was Patricia's turn. She entered the office 
and closed the door. The deputy principal was standing 
behind his desk, his jacket off and his shirt sleeve 
rolled up. A wooden paddle, with several small round 
holes in it and a leather-bound handle, lay upon his 
desk. He looked surprised, his punishment list for 
that afternoon had only had five names on it. And 
seventeen year olds in cheerleader gear were not 
usually sent for a paddling!

Patricia handed him the note the principal had given 
her. He opened the envelope, sat down at his desk and 
read the message. He looked up at Patricia.

"Do you know what this says, young lady?"

"Yes sir," Patricia mumbled.

"You've not been sent to me before, have you?" The 
girl shook her pretty head silently. "Well a paddling 
is no joke," he said. "I don't like paddling girls, 
and especially not young women old enough to get 
married like yourself, but if I punish you I'll have 
to give you the same as I just gave Robert Lenaghan. 
Did you see him? Six with this paddle really smarts! 
Are you sure you want to go through with it?"

Patricia nodded. "Yes sir. I want to be a cheerleader 
at the big game and this is the only way!"

"OK then! Let's get on with it! Bend over my desk."

Mr. DiMarco picked up the paddle and walked round to 
the other side of the desk as Patricia slowly draped 
herself across it. She had to stretch to reach the 
other side. Her short cheerleader's skirt rode up 
revealing her thighs and most of her bottom, barely 
covered by a pair of skimpy briefs. The deputy took 
the hem of the skirt and tucked it into the waistband. 
He did not want the skirt to interfere with the 
efficiency of the punishment.

As he raised the paddle high Patricia wondered if she 
had made the right decision. She had hoped that the 
paddle would not be any worse than the hair brushings 
she'd had from her mom, but Robert had clearly been 
badly hurt and he didn't look like a coward. Besides 
she remembered that the paddle was used in the Texas 
State Women's Penitentiary. If it was effective on the 
rears of hardened criminals what would it do to her 
own tender behind? She soon found out!

The paddle lashed down with ferocious velocity, 
covering the whole area of Patricia's bottom. Bubbles 
of her flesh were forced through the small holes of 
the paddle. As Mr. DiMarco well knew this would result 
in bruises that would last long after the sting of the 
paddle had otherwise died away. Patricia yelled blue 
murder. It hurt much more than she'd expected. Her 
head jerked sharply back sending her light-colored 
hair flying. She nearly lost her grip on the desk but 
she forced herself to stay bent over. 

Now she knew better what to expect. The second and 
third whacks, concentrating on her right and left 
cheeks respectively, both elicited yelps of pain, but 
she stayed resolutely in position. Mr. DiMarco waited 
a while before the next whack and then he let fly with 
the hardest yet. The paddle cracked down with a loud 
splat across Patricia's reddened rear. It was too 
much. 

Patricia released her grip and howled, bursting into 
tears. She half straightened, her hands going to her 
tortured cheeks. She twisted round and stood facing 
Mr. DiMarco, her large blue eyes filled with tears. 
She hopped from one foot to the other, pressing her 
hands against her anguished behind.

Mr. DiMarco allowed her a few moments. Then he took 
her by the shoulder, turned her round and bent her 
back over the desk. The sobbing girl knew she had no 
alternative. She couldn't keep still, but the deputy 
ignored the kicking legs and delivered another 
blistering wallop.

"AAOOWWW! AAOOWWW!!" she yelled.

She was still squirming and wriggling wildly, trying 
to come to terms with this latest increment of pain, 
when Mr. DiMarco brought the paddle down for the last 
time. He always made sure the last swat was the 
hardest, and did Patricia realize it! She shrieked 
like a banshee, jumped a foot into the air, and came 
down holding her buttocks with both hands and crying 
like a baby. She was oblivious to Mr. DiMarco who 
walked around her and laid the paddle on his desk 
before sitting down. He waited for Patricia to calm 
down a little.

Finally Patricia realized that it was all over. 
Sheepishly she reached round and pulled her skirt out 
of her waistband so that it fell and covered her 
blazing behind. Mr. DiMarco handed her a tissue to dry 
her eyes and told her she could go. She slowly made 
her way out, dabbing at her eyes. Walking was painful 
and she stopped when she got outside the office and 
leant against the wall, holding her bottom. After a 
minute she walked on. She had to get to the changing 
room to change back out of her cheerleader gear into 
her normal clothes.

At the end of the corridor she was surprised, and a 
little shocked, to see her best friend, and fellow 
cheerleader, Barbara.

She stood still as Barbara tenderly put her arms about 
her and asked: "How are you, was it too awful?"

"I'm all right, Barbara," she managed to reply, her 
voice almost steady. "But my butt feels like I just 
sat in acid. Boy, am I sore!"

"I know what you mean," her friend said 
sympathetically. "I got six swats from Marky back in 
ninth grade and I can remember what my ass felt like!" 
She wriggled reminiscently.

"How did you know I was... where I was?" Patricia 
asked hesitantly.

"When you didn't come to the changing room we knew 
something was wrong and Mr. Brewer told us you'd been 
sent to Marky," her friend explained.

"Oh God!" Patricia gasped. "Then everyone knows I've 
been whacked!"

"'Fraid so, but it can't be helped. After all everyone 
knew when I got paddled!"

"You were fourteen, Barbara. I'm nearly eighteen! Does 
Mike know?"

"Yes. He wanted to come here and wait for you with me, 
but I told him to go home. I thought you'd rather be 
by yourself for a bit. Was I right?"

"Oh yes, yes! I couldn't face him! It's so shaming!"

Barbara held her friend's hand as they walked slowly 
to the changing room. As Patricia removed her skirt 
Barbara could see, even with Patricia's tiny briefs, 
how red and raw her friend's bottom was. She realized, 
from the marks it had left that 'Marky' must have used 
his special paddle with the holes. Also her own six 
swat paddling had been over jeans - Patricia's must 
have been much worse. The punished girl gasped as she 
drew on her jeans over the swollen flesh.

When Patricia had changed the two girls walked home 
together. Patricia stopped every so often and pressed 
her hands to the seat of her jeans. Barbara reflected 
that although Patricia had waited a long time for her 
first paddling it was unlikely that she would forget 
it for a long time to come.

END

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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 78