A girl seeks her mother’s help when she is to be paddled at school

By Kenny Walters

“But, mom! It’s just not fair!”

“Not fair? Are you saying you didn’t take a crib sheet into the History test?”

“Well, no. I mean, I was caught with it hidden up my sleeve.”

“And the usual punishment for cheating in a test is what?”

“The paddle.”

“How many swats?”


“And what is Mr Sanders proposing to do tomorrow?”

“Give me five swats.”

Mrs Harman held both arms out, palms uppermost, and cocked her head to one side, questioning silently how her daughter thought her school vice-principal was being in any way unfair.

“Okay, okay! I know! I’ve been all through the school right up to twelfth grade, so I know what the punishment is for cheating in a test.”

“So, what’s the problem then? And while we’re at it, I thought History was one of your best subjects. Why did you feel the need to cheat?”

“It is. I just hadn’t done the revision work.”

Jennifer Harman sighed. She knew her mother had warned her about going down the mall with her friends after school, rather than coming home and getting on with her revision, and she knew perfectly well her mother was fully aware that is what had led to her feeling the need to cheat.

At least she was able to talk to her mother; not all her friends had such a good relationship with their parents. Jennifer was like her mother in many ways; in looks, in hair colouring, both having shoulder length straight chestnut brown hair, in their slim athletic build, even their shoe size was the same. Perhaps their closeness was due to Jennifer’s father divorcing her mother eight years ago and to all intents and purposes disappearing out of their lives.

“So, having got yourself into trouble, what do you expect me to do about it?”

“I don’t know, mom,” Jennifer whined.

“Actually, I don’t really see what I can do about it. The school has its policies, so you’re just going to have to take the paddling and get over it. Anyway, you’ve been paddled at school before. What’s the problem this time?”

“Mom! I haven’t been paddled since I was twelve years old. That was Mrs Henson doing the paddling back then. Now, it’s Mr Sanders, and he paddles real hard; like I’m going to be bruised for a week at least.”

“I think you might be exaggerating a little there, honey.” Mrs Harman smiled.

“I am not! I’ve seen the marks on other students!”

“I hope you mean other girls, Jennifer!”

Jennifer blushed. They both knew she’d got to look at female classmates’ backsides in the shower room and occasionally, in a quiet part of the school, she’d also seen a few boys’ bottoms too, usually when a boy bragged about how well he’d taken a paddling. Or at least, she knew, and her mother probably guessed.

“Mom, please just accept I know how hard this paddling is going to be. That’s all, and it makes me really scared. Really scared, mom!”

Mrs Harman studied her daughter’s pretty face and saw clearly that her daughter was indeed terrified. She chewed her lip as she thought.

“Okay, I’m not sure what I can do, but I will have a word with Mr Sanders. Okay?”

“That could make things worse, mom.”

“No, I’ll tell him that I expect my daughter to be properly punished, but I do not expect her to suffer abusive injuries. I’ll let him know I’ll be checking and if the bruising is too bad, I’ll be lodging a complaint. Okay?”

“Okay, I guess.” It was Jennifer’s turn to bite her lip thoughtfully. “There’s another problem too. I’m due to be paddled at three-fifteen, right after a games lesson.”

Mrs Harman looked blankly at her daughter. “So?”

“So, I’ll get paddled while I’m only wearing my games shorts.”

“You think that’s intentional?”


“Why are they doing that?”

“I don’t really know, mom, although some students have taken to wearing extra clothing under their pants when they know they’re due to be paddled. Wearing those thin little satin games shorts, well, I guess they can see whether there’s extra padding being worn or not.”

“Oh, okay,” Mrs Harman responded thoughtfully. “I guess that makes sense.”


“Can I help you?” One of the school secretaries said as she looked up from behind the counter and saw Jennifer standing there dressed in games kit.

“I’m due to see Mr Sanders at three-fifteen, ma’am.”

The secretary, a middle-aged and rather plump lady with short mousey-coloured hair, just about managed to suppress a smile, although the glint in her eyes confirmed she knew just why Jennifer had the appointment.

“Your name?”

“Jennifer Harman.”

After tapping a few keys on her computer and waiting for the screen to reveal the required information, the secretary looked back up at Jennifer.

“Yes, you’re expected, Jennifer. Go take a seat outside Mr Sanders’ office. He shouldn’t be long.”
Even walking slowly, Jennifer managed to reach the door to Mr Sanders’ office in less than two minutes. She felt somewhat self-conscious being in this administrative area of the school dressed in just blue games shorts and a blue and white games shirt. There were four vacant seats opposite the door to his office, all vacant, so she chose one of the two middle chairs. As she sat waiting, she could hear vague murmurings from within the office, but couldn’t detect what was being said, nor indeed who was speaking.

Twiddling her fingers, Jennifer soon became aware of how tense she was, and attempts at long slow intakes of air did nothing to dispel her anxiety. All too soon, the door was suddenly snatched open and the large frame of Mr Sanders appeared.

“Come in, Jennifer. We’re all ready for you.”

He held the door open for Jennifer as she peered cautiously in. He said, ‘we’re all waiting,’ so presumably the required witness was already there. Who would it be? A woman was sitting in a chair in front of the desk, her back towards the door, yet she seemed familiar to Jennifer.


“Hi Jennifer.” The woman turned in her chair.

“Mom?” Jennifer repeated, her mother being the last person she expected to see.

“Perhaps I can explain,” Mr Sanders said as he sat down in his large swiveling chair behind the desk.

“Sir?” Jennifer didn’t care who explained, as long as someone did.

“Jennifer, your mother telephoned me earlier and expressed concern about the manner in which your paddling today might be conducted. I think you might be aware she was going to do that?”

“Sort of, sir.”

“Well, it seemed to me the most sensible thing was for her to come and do it herself.”

“What?” Jennifer blurted out unthinkingly. “I mean, is that allowed, sir? I’ve never heard of that before.”

“Actually, it’s happened a couple of times, Jennifer.”

“Really, sir?”

“It sure has.”

“So, that should remove any doubts you had about being paddled. Right?” Mrs Harman added.

“Er, I don’t know.” Jennifer was confused and uncertain about this unexpected development. “I suppose it’s okay, mom.”

“Do you want to borrow my paddle, Mrs Harman?” Mr Sanders asked. “Or do you have your own?”

“Actually, I did bring the leather strop my father used on me when he was alive, Mr Sanders. But, perhaps I ought to use the paddle on her, since that is what the school rules stipulate, I believe.”
“I do believe the school’s policy merely refers to corporal punishment, Mrs Harman. But here, let me show you the paddle and then you can decide which implement you’d prefer to use. I’m sure the school would have no objection to whichever you choose, as long as a proper punishment is administered.”
While Mr Sanders went across the room to a cupboard on one side of his office, Mrs Harman pulled an eighteen-inch length of leather belt from a bag. It was old, dark brown in colour and about an inch and a half wide. She waited while the vice-principal returned with a wooden school paddle.

“This is the paddle, Mrs Harman,” he said as he came around his desk and handed the it over.

Mrs Harman compared her leather strop with the paddle, taking the paddle by the eight-inch-long handle, while Jennifer waited to hear whether she was to be paddled or strapped. The teenager tried to calculate which would be the softer, and thus more preferable, option.

“It’s a little heavier than I was expecting, Mr Sanders,” Mrs Harman said as she gripped the rubber bound handle and patted the sixteen by four inch blade against the palm of her left hand.

“That’ll be the hickory it’s made from, Mrs Harman. I chose a particularly close grained sample to make it from.”

“You made the paddle yourself, Mr Sanders?”

“Yes, ma’am. I have a small home workshop.”

“I see. Let’s go with the paddle, Mr Sanders,” Mrs Harman decided, keeping one eye on her daughter to check her reaction.

Jennifer’s expression, though, gave nothing away. She thought the leather strap, being more pliable, might be the better option, but someone had once told her it tended to be applied to the bare bottom and no way was she dropping her shorts and underwear in front of Mr Sanders. In all, she felt it best to just keep quiet.


“Perhaps you could direct me on what we need to do, Mr Sanders?” Jennifer’s mother said, a gentle smile on her face.

“No problem, Mrs Harman. Now, I usually have students bend across my desk. Does that work for you?”

“Please do call me Emilia, Mr Sanders.”

“And I’m Charles, Emilia.”

Jennifer immediately gave her mother an angry glare. Mrs Harman returned the gesture with one of her own which asked what was wrong with being on first name terms with the man.

“Or we could draw up that chair from against the wall and have Jennifer bend over the back, Emilia,” Charles Sanders suggested, more to ward off a conflict between mother and daughter.

“I guess your desk would be a little more sturdy, Charles, but I don’t want to mess up all your paperwork.”

“That’s not a problem, Emilia.” Charles Sanders began to clear some paperwork, his telephone and a couple of other items to either end of his desk, leaving the centre area clear.

“You about ready, Jennifer?” Mrs Harman turned to her daughter who was standing back watching the proceedings while toying with her fingers.

Jennifer took a couple of steps forward and stood by her mother. Mrs Harman put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders, then let it fall down her back, feeling first the cotton material of Jennifer’s games shirt and then the shiny satin feel blue games shorts. Jennifer’s neat round buttocks felt warm as her mother’s hand rubbed and then patted.


By this time, Charles Sanders had completed the preparation of his desk, and the centre area was completely clear. Jennifer felt herself shivering, despite the warm room, and took a half step forward to confirm she was ready.

“Mom?” Jennifer looked round and into her mother’s face.

“Just give me a moment!” Emilia Harman whispered in Jennifer’s ear.

The mother was as nervous as her daughter.

“Why don’t you come forward, Jennifer, and bend over my desk?”

“Yes, sir.” It was Jennifer’s turn to whisper, and she didn’t actually move an inch.

Mrs Harman still had her hand on her daughter’s hip and, when Jennifer hesitated, she slipped her hand round to her daughter’s bottom, feeling the young firm buttocks through the satin smooth shorts. She felt for, and detected, her daughter’s panties that felt thin and brief. Why, she wondered, did Jennifer not wear more substantial underwear, knowing she was due for a spanking? A couple of gentle pats persuaded Jennifer to move further forward.

“Bend over, Jennifer,” Mr Sanders told her as she approached the desk. “I suggest you reach out towards the far side and get your forearms flat on the desk. Make sure your upper body is as low to the desk as you can get and that your bottom is pushed up and back as far as possible. Give your mother a good target, Jennifer, and we can get this done nice and quickly.”

Jennifer breathed in. This was it. This was what she had been dreading, and she wasn’t at all convinced that having her mother paddle her was going to make it that much easier.

“Yes, sir.”

She looked down at the desk as though surveying the scene and working out how she was going to accomplish the task, although in reality it was a simple matter. Leaning across the desk now, Jennifer lowered herself onto her forearms, and then pushed her forearms forward and out, allowing her upper body to sink ever lower until it rested on the hard wooden surface. She felt the silky satin smooth material of her games shorts stretch across her neat round bottom until it felt uncomfortably snug.
When Mrs Harman followed her daughter to the desk, she again felt her Jennifer’s firm round bottom through the silky material of the shorts.

“Mom!” Jennifer exclaimed, conscious of Mr Sanders watching closely what was happening.

“Okay, girl, I guess we can’t put this off any longer,” Her mother said, moving behind where her daughter now bent over.

Within moments, the wooden paddle patted Jennifer’s backside to signify the punishment was about to start. For some strange reason, Jennifer found herself pushing her bottom out, stretching her shiny satin shorts even tighter across her bottom, and mentally surrendering herself for the spanking.


The first stroke of the paddle crashed against the seat of Jennifer’s shorts, the sound seeming to echo round the room. Mr Sanders watched the changing facial expressions as Jennifer first appeared shocked, then seemed to grimace as the pain was felt across her bottom. Moments later, Jennifer dipped her head down as if to signify her readiness to take the next blow.
It came within moments.


Jennifer gasped. The impact of paddle against bottom reverberated around the airy office. The girl’s countenance changed from shock to pain and finally to resolve as she prepared herself for the next swing of the paddle.

Mr Sanders watched as Emilia Harman took aim. Her facial expression suggested determination and a desire to be seen as effectively punishing her daughter. The swing was equally resolute, and another loud bang echoed round the office. When Jennifer screwed her face up with pain from the stroke, her mother seemed satisfied.

As Emilia Harman concentrated on her daughter’s bottom, she swung the paddle back in preparation, and Jennifer only just managed to brace herself in time. She still grimaced as the shock of the impact punished her yet again.

Mrs Harman found the need to hold the blade of the paddle in her left hand and to wipe her now sweaty right hand down the side of her navy blue pleated skirt. Feeling her grip on the paddle’s handle would now be firm enough, she clasped her right hand back round the rubber grip as she prepared for the fifth and final spank of Jennifer’s bottom.

Meanwhile, Mr Sanders smiled as he watched the preparations for the final stroke. Mrs Harman was doing a fine job in his estimation and his idea of inviting the mother in to paddle her daughter’s bottom herself, when she had tiresomely complained about his own methods, had worked just fine. In fact, he thought, Jennifer had got as good a spanking from her mother as he would have given her.
Mrs Harman brought the paddle back one last time and hastily swung the paddle forward until it collided heavily with the seat of Jennifer’s blue satin shorts.


Tears sprang to Jennifer’s eyes and she wiped them away with the back of her right hand as she half rose from the desk. Mr Sanders took a step forward.

“Okay, Jennifer, that’s you done.” He grinned as his eyes met with Jennifer’s. “Emilia, you done a good job there.”

Mrs Harman took a deep breath as she watched her daughter rub the seat of her shorts with both hands.

“Did I? I really wasn’t sure.”

“Oh yes, Emilia, that was a good spanking and no mistake. I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

“Really?” Mrs Harman looked at the school vice-principal, unsure quite how to take his compliment.

Before any further conversation could take place, Jennifer turned and buried herself in her mother’s arms. Mrs Harman wrapped her left arm round her daughter’s shoulders and at the same time held the paddle out for Mr Sanders. He took it and went to return it to its cupboard. After a few moments, Mrs Harman’s hand slipped down lower and again caressed her daughter’s bottom through the thin slippery material of the shorts.

Mr Sanders grinned as he noticed what was happening.

“School is pretty much over for today, Emilia. Why don’t Jennifer and you get off home? I’ll write her a pass in case there’s any challenge on your way out.”

“Why, thank you, Charles. I reckon Jennifer will appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome, Emilia. And if you want me to make up a paddle for you to use at home, you just let me know.”

She held the paddle by the blade and offered it, handle first, back to the school vice-principal.

Mother and daughter exchanged glances.

“I don’t know about that, Charles. I’m kind of hoping I won’t have a need of it, but I certainly found it an effective tool.” She looked at her daughter, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. “Then again, I might just take you up on your kind offer.”

Jennifer gave her mother a hostile glare.

“Jennifer, you go get changed.” Mr Sanders said. “Meanwhile, your mother and I will have a coffee together. Get back here when you’re ready to leave. Okay?”

“Yes, sir.” Jennifer gratefully left the office.

After Mr Sanders rang the secretaries’ station and called for coffee to be brought, he drew up a chair for Mrs Harman, then sat down behind his desk.

“I guess you don’t get many students cheating in tests, Charles; not if that’s the standard punishment.”

“It’s that or a Saturday morning detention, Emilia. We always give students a choice.”

“You mean Jennifer chose to be paddled?” Mrs Harman’s voice reached a new height, such was her surprise.

“Well, yes. Didn’t you know?”

“No, I did not!”

The End
© Kenny Walters 2020

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