A girl wishes she’d stuck to the rules. By a new writer to this site.

by Ricky Smarts

Bonnie Anderson was the very domineering principal of Middlesex High, a well known all girls school in a large southern city. The school had a fine reputation for turning out well-behaved graduates that both their families and the community could be proud of. Many young women, not thrilled with that reputation, went there because their parents were attracted to the discipline Miss Anderson offered. Many of their mothers had been students there before, and while not happy going over the knees of the prior principal, realized that young ladies needed guidance in their formative years. Middlesex High offered that guidance, although the students did not appreciate it until many years later.

Anderson required exactness from the entire school body, and that included her teachers as well. It didn’t happen often, but when necessary she turned some of her female teachers over her lap as well. After lowering their panties and blistering their bottoms, her staff was one of the finest (and well behaved) in the state.

One afternoon, as Miss Anderson was taking her after-lunch walk around the campus, she heard some giggling in an empty work shed. She listened for a bit and then entered. Management by walking around was her motto. It helped her stay ahead of most problems.

What she saw was very disturbing. One of her senior students, an 18-year-old named Amy Peabody, and a strange boy, were groping each other. Boys were not allowed on campus unless there was a special occasion like graduation or a well-chaperoned party. Amy’s clothing was disheveled and her lipstick was in disarray. Both young people looked at her in shock and alarm. The young man, clearly knowing he was trespassing on school property, began stammering excuses.

“Save it for your headmaster, young man. Where do you go to school?” Bonnie knew it had to be at the nearby boys’ school.

“Andover Academy, Ma’am. Please don’t report me.”

“I won’t, but you will. After you tell Dean Johnson what you have been up to, ask him to call me. My guess is you will get a taste of his paddle. Let me have your school ID. I will send it to him later.”

As the horrified young man complied and scurried out of the work shed, Bonnie turned her attention to the crying girl before her.

“What is your name, young lady? I believe you have been to my office before.

“Amy Peabody, Ma’am. Yes I have.”

“And when was that, Miss Peabody?”

“It was a few months ago, Ma’am.”

“What were you spanked for?”

“I was a few minutes late in returning from lunch, and another time for talking in class, Ma’am.”

“Well, Miss Peabody, I see we are twenty minutes past lunch and you are still not in class. Apparently, your last spanking did not teach you anything, but this time things are much more serious. You know boys are not permitted on campus without authorization. And whatever you two were doing here, it is something I must report to your parents. That will look very poorly on our ability to supervise our students.”

“I am so sorry, Miss Anderson. Please don’t spank me again. The last one was very hard and I couldn’t sit in class the next day.”

“I am glad you at least remember there are consequences for your actions, but my obligation to you, your parents and the rest of the school community is to ensure that everyone follows our rules. So just make your clothes presentable and follow me to my office. Hopefully today’s spanking will leave a more lasting impression upon you.”

Young Amy grabbed her behind, and cried out. “Oh, no. Please no, Miss Anderson.”

Telling the blubbering girl to stifle herself, the clearly upset principal began the long march back to her office, hoping her assistant hadn’t scheduled other spankings for the afternoon.

Bonnie Anderson, followed by the terrified student whose face was already wet with the tears running down her face, marched briskly into her office, telling her secretary not to interrupt them. There were several students and teachers already in the outer office, clearly understanding that their meetings would be delayed.

“Peabody, how long have you known this boy and exactly what were you doing there?”

The sobbing student, trying to keep her voice lower than the principal’s, downplayed the situation. “Oh it was nothing, Miss Anderson. He is a friend from my neighborhood and we were just talking.”

“Looking at your clothes and your makeup, I know exactly what you were talking about. You know we have rules here, and I am sure you know the benefits of complying with them. Don’t you, Miss Peabody?”

Bonnie, smiling to herself, knew the main benefits were not having one’s panties removed and not receiving a brisk over the knee spanking in the principal’s office.

“Miss Peabody, let me come right to the point. You have been here long enough and still haven’t learned the rules. I have spanked you on at least two other occasions and today I find you with a boy trying to get underneath your clothing. Well, once we get started today, I will be the only one underneath your clothing and I promise you, your bottom will be smarting.”

Bonnie Anderson walked over to the chair in front of her desk, turned it around and pulled it to the center of the room.

Amy’s heart stopped for a moment when she saw her adjusting the spanking chair. A straight backed, armless and well-built wooden chair, it easily held the weight of two women, even when one was trying to shake it off its sturdy legs. Miss Anderson bought it specifically for punishment duty; it had no other purpose. The girl eyed it uneasily knowing it would soon be put to use. Usually facing the desk as a visitor’s chair, now it was far removed from the other furniture. Distant enough to leave room for the soon to be kicking of the legs and flailing of the arms, remonstrations that always accompanied a good over the knee spanking. No sense having the students hurting their extremities, or the furniture. The object of the hurt was the impressionable cute round buns of her charges.

Bonnie sat in the solid wooden chair and said as sternly as she could: “Bring that naughty bottom over here, Miss Peabody. It is time to pay the piper.”

This was the part of the job Bonnie Anderson loved best. Her domineering attitude and total lack of sympathy leading up to a spanking was her hallmark. Bonnie had applied for the job knowing about Middlesex’s discipline program. As a matter of fact, her job interview was spanking one of the seniors who had disrespected a teacher, and what a spanking it was! When the retiring principal saw how quickly the recalcitrant young student was reduced to tears, as her pert red bottom bounced on Bonnie’s lap and she cried out about how good she would be, Bonnie was hired on the spot. That student was one of the best-behaved girls for the rest of the year. The students had been getting away with murder the past year, as the soon to be gone principal was too old for this required activity. Getting a hard bare bottomed spanking from the new principal was just what the board members wanted for their misbehaving students. Bonnie believed that misbehavior, of any type, should be promptly and firmly answered. Skirt up, panties down, bottoms red, and howling young ladies promising improvement as their legs kicked out at each crisp splat of her punishing hand. The word soon went out that the new principal really gave a sizzling spanking.

Amy shifted from foot to foot, putting her hands behind to feel the bottom that was about to be exposed and well spanked and started crying softly. “Please, Miss Anderson, I won’t do it again, please don’t spank me this time.”

As she mumbled something about a second chance, her principal, in an unyielding voice, gave the feared response. “No, Peabody. When you act irresponsibly, and bring disrespect to our school, like a little girl, you get spanked like a little girl. You understand that, don’t you? This spanking will hopefully change your behavior. Many women in this community have been spanked in this room; it’s a long standing tradition, and they expect our current students and staff to be similarly trained,” the principal added, exuding pride in the school’s well-known guiding principle of speedily turning those needing attention over a lap.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Amy Peabody remembered her last spanking. It was at home a few weeks ago. Her mother too, believed in addressing a bare bottom as a remedy for most things. To her daughter’s complaint that 18 was too old to be spanked, her mom just smiled and reminded her: “So long as you live in my house, young lady, your bare buns will go over my lap whenever they need it.”

This, she felt, would be much worse. She began her slow march to her principal.

As Amy approached the heavy-handed woman, awaiting her in the chair, she felt an unwavering concern over what this strong-minded woman was going to do to her sweet tender bottom. Amy had seen girls in the lunchroom, eating while standing up several days after she heard they went to “the principal’s office.” This was going to be serious.

Moments later she arrived at the armless chair.

The principal took Amy’s right hand in her left and gently pulled her forward until she landed in that time-honored position. Having spanked many a wayward girl, Miss Anderson knew just what to do. There was nothing the anxious young woman could do to avoid her fate. A small, “Oh my gosh,” came from her as she landed on the lap. Miss Anderson moved her a bit to get her in the correct position and then went for the hem of her loose skirt. Amy began shaking with embarrassment as it slowly came up, first exposing her lovely long legs, then the creamy white skin of the full thighs above. When the skirt got up to her waist, Bonnie Anderson saw a mostly bare, round bottom, full and unyielding, already twitching in anticipation. The ass cheeks just rose up from her thighs and stood there, firm and proud, in a most convenient position for her upcoming spanking. Her bottom looked like two small grapefruits, and the principal knew she would enjoy administering this spanking. Amy’s entire body started trembling. She felt the cool air on her thighs and soon to be hot buns and knew this was real. All the whispered stories she heard were true about what happened “in the principal’s office.”

She did have panties on, but barely. They were tiny pink see-throughs. The little of them that was there, stretched tightly across her delightful bottom. The small rear formed a triangle and only covered a few inches on top. Then a pink string disappeared into her lush separation. At least 80 per cent of her quivering bottom cheeks were visible to Miss Anderson.

Amy’s butt cheeks began shaking, knowing what was coming. The next indignity was when the curled up skirt fell over her head, leaving only her hands protruding. The firm young bottom cheeks were, in fact, on the top of the triangle. She was told her to grasp the chair legs with her hands.

“That will help if you think you want to reach back and protect yourself. Only silly girls do that. Peabody, the type of panties you are wearing today tells me that today’s encounter was previously planned. I am sure you don’t dress like that everyday, do you?”

“Sometimes I like to wear something nice, Miss Anderson.”

With that, the disapproving principal proceeded to grasp the waistband of the panties and slowly draw them over the twin buns and down to mid thigh. Amy shuddered in embarrassment as she felt the panties being slipped over her hips to expose her terrified butt cheeks. The target of her principal’s attention was now bracketed by the skirt at her waist, and the thin pink rolled up panties below.

Miss Anderson ran her palm across both presented cheeks. White, smooth, full and trembling, they would take the spanking very well. After deciding where to begin, Miss Anderson gave the poor girl a hard squeeze on the right side and asked Amy if she were ready. Not waiting for an answer, the principal announced that today’s spanking would consist of twenty-five firm spanks and began administering alternating slaps on the full ass cheeks looking up at her, rather defiantly.

The spanking began. The slaps were slow, crisp and sharp. The loud cracks of her right palm caused Amy to gasp and groan. After a few “Oooh’s” and “Aaaaha’s,” the young student was rolling about the good-sized lap, hoping her spanker would hit a new area. Amy did not realize it, but the first hot kisses from above already had covered her entire bottom so no matter where the loud smacks fell, they stung. This was the sign of an experienced spanker. Her legs tended to kick up with each crack of the punishing hand. When Miss Anderson got to ten, she asked how Amy felt. Between sobs, Amy responded she was very sore, and that each hard slap was really hurting, and asked the principal to stop, after sucking in the air she needed to speak.

By fifteen, the tears were clouding her eyes, not that there was much to see on Miss Anderson’s floor. Her cries went unheeded. It was as if the “Yoweeee’s” just encouraged the principal to make the next strike even sharper. The next five, nice and loud, almost drowned out Amy’s whimpering that sounded like: “Owww, owww, owweeeee, pleeeease stop, no more.”

Miss Anderson kept up the barrage. Each side of those impudent reddening ass checks was hit high, middle and low. Left and right, up and down. Not a spot was missed. This was Anderson at her best. Very few students, and virtually none of the teachers, needed a second visit to the principal’s office; none wanted a third.

Miss Anderson, well wrapped in her work, wasn’t sure what Amy was saying, but knew she would remember this afternoon’s trip over her no-nonsense lap for sometime. The young girl had a full sized bottom and the principal enjoyed watching it wiggle and twist as it hopelessly tried to avoid the spanking. It was one of the nicer bottoms ever presented for a spanking and Miss Anderson was happy to do her duty and address it. Each of Amy’s yelps and protestations merely confirmed Miss Anderson’s expertise as a stern disciplinarian.

As each loud thunderclap struck a quivering hillock, a sharp response blurted from Amy’s mouth. This was clearly not what Amy thought she was in for when she agreed to attend Middlesex High. Her bottom was on fire and this horrible woman kept stroking it. When the count reached twenty, her twin cheeks were bright pink, full of pain, and shaking like Jell-O. Her legs kicked up separately, keeping pace with each side of her hot spanking. After a particularly sharp and pained spank, both legs came up together and offered Bonnie a view that Amy had no way to conceal. Once or twice she took her hands from the chair legs, but kept them close by, balled up into fists. All it took was one, “Peabody!!” and she re-grasped the chair legs. Despite the severe spanking, her firm mounds still looked straight up at the principal.

While Amy was relieved that a wooden hairbrush like her Mom’s was not being used to spank her, Miss Anderson’s hand was just as painful. She knew how to snap those slaps in at just the right angle, for maximum effect. Regardless of the implement used on her sore cheeks today, Amy was being soundly spanked; very disheartening for an 18-year-old girl, recently cuddling and kissing with her boyfriend. She hoped his paddling would not be too bad.

The color of her pained buns confirmed Miss Anderson’s belief that a good spanking had to be on the bare. How else to gauge the color and heat? The complaining from the person over the lap, and even the kicking of the legs, was not a good measure of the effectiveness of the spanking. Amy knew this was an awful spanking she was getting today. Why couldn’t she stop? All Miss Anderson had to do was look at her tush and feel the heat. It’s not like she couldn’t see it! How much more could her scorched buns take?

“Oh Please, Miss Anderson. Please stop this spanking; my bottom is blazing. I have had enough!” She pleaded as her tears dripped to the floor. Amy kicked her legs up and down trying to fight the pain. A shoe went flying and the rolled panty fell below her knee on one side. She no longer tried to control her voice and the plaintiff shrieks got louder. This was the worst spanking she had ever received, and it did not appear to be over yet.

“When your sorry buns tell me I have made my point, I will stop. Now stop advertising to the whole school that you are getting a well-deserved spanking.”

“No, Ma’am, No. Please stop my spanking. I can’t take anymore. It stings so. I will be very good from now on, I promise. You don’t have to spank me anymore.”

“I am sure you will, Miss Peabody, but you have earned this spanking and I will do my duty.” Was there any end to her humiliation, Amy wondered?

From the heat in her face, she knew her upper cheeks were as red as the lower ones. Thankfully, Miss Anderson could not see her humiliation, although how else could she feel in that juvenile position with her glowing lower orbs bare and on display? The target presented for the crisp spanks continuing to fall was red, swollen and very hot. This was one powerful spanking and the principal was making a convincing point. Amy would never miss a class again.

Then for Amy’s benefit, the principal counted out the last five.

They made wonderful music together. Miss Anderson called out: “Twenty-one,” and Amy sang: “Ooowwee,” a moment after the loud spank reverberated throughout the room. Then “Twenty-two,” was announced as another hot slap fell, answered by a loud “Aaaahhh.” Each sharp spank to a very tender cheek caused the leg on that side to kick back, as the “Oowee” responded from her other end. “Twenty-three,” came after another burning kiss was delivered, announced by Amy’s loud “Ooohhh, Ooohh, Yooowee, Please stop, I am sooo sorry I cut class Miss Anderson,” and both legs flew up in unison and then kicked up and down separately.

Anderson, showing no concern whatsoever, waited until she stopped flopping up and down to ensure she was ready for the painful and humiliating resumption of her spanking. She wanted the young girl to fully appreciate every smartly delivered slap before the next one fell from above. Had she not been holding Amy’s waist with her left hand, the poor girl would have fallen to the floor. Despite Amy having felt her mom’s hairbrush periodically, she realized that Miss Anderson was a skillful spanker who knew how to generate the heat, even with her hand. No matter how Amy rolled or shifted her bottom, there was no escaping the punishing hand.

“Twenty-four,” brought forth a: “Please, Miss Anderson, no more, I am sooo sore, it hurts sooo much,” which must have been shocking to those sitting outside the door. At least that’s what it sounded like between the gasps for air and the loud crying.

Miss Anderson waited a while and then announced, as she caressed the hot mounds: “Peabody, this is the last one. I will administer it when you stop your lap dance and tell me you are ready for it.” With that, and her groaned: “Please, No more!” Miss Anderson gave her a solid and very loud swat on her firm right cheek that caused both legs to kick upwards and expose her light brown bush.

Amy was running from this dreadful spanking, but had nowhere to go. She gurgled a loud and long unintelligible sound. Her pert bottom cheeks felt as if a thousand bees had descended and dove in. The smoldering bottom would never be the same.

She squirmed on the punitive lap for a while trying to control the crying and convulsing tremors of her entire body. She had never felt such a fiery feeling in her bottom. She wondered if it would ever subside. This was a very painful experience, to say nothing of the way in which it was administered. Panties now around her knees from all the kicking; her sweet buns were truly blistered. Finally, with the principal’s permission, she pushed herself up, leaning on the chair. Her skirt dropped down to cover her burning tush but nothing could cover her blushing upper cheeks. Her hands went to her bottom and tried to rub away the heat, as her entire body shook. She avoided Miss Anderson’s eyes and did not want her to see her puffy eyes and wet face. She had been mercilessly spanked and barely survived it. She sobbed and her shoulders were still trembling. The fact that her panties were now visible below her skirt was agonizingly apparent to her.

Now Miss Anderson asked her to turn around and bend forward for the final inspection. Lifting up the skirt, Miss Anderson took a long look at her handiwork.

“I do give a nice spanking,” she thought. Bonnie touched both ass cheeks with her left hand to gauge the heat. They were nice and warm, and the cool touch caused Amy to jump. Bonnie’s right hand could gauge nothing now.

“Peabody, do you think you will remember to attend your classes now, or do you need another reminder tomorrow?”

No, Miss Anderson, I already had 25 slaps and they were hard! My tush is burning, please, I learned my lesson. I will follow all your rules now. Please don’t spank me anymore. You gave me a very hard spanking!” She added with blushing cheeks as she held her lower ones with both hands.

Thankfully, Bonnie told her she could stand up.

Her skirt momentarily stayed above her waist as she rose, causing her even more embarrassment. Bonnie returned to her seat behind the desk. After covering up, Amy reached down for the panties, which were still hobbling her knees, but Bonnie told her: “Not quite yet, Peabody. Leave your hands by your sides. You can deal with that on your time.”

Bonnie waited until the youngster dropped her hands but continued shaking her butt. She knew the girl wanted to rub the pain away, but fanning the flames would have to do for now. Then Bonnie asked: “Tell me, Peabody, what have we learned today?”

It took her awhile to control her breathing and get her sobbing under control, but she continued the dance steps. The fire continued burning even though the spanking was several minutes old. Then Peabody very slowly forced out: “I will attend all my classes and never meet any boys on campus.”

“Is there anything else you would like to tell me?”

Amy looked at her principal. “Miss Anderson, I am very sorry you had to take important time away from your other duties to discipline me. I learned my lesson very well.”

“Amy,” responded her principal, gently using her given name for the first time. “If this little visit to my office makes you a better student, I am sure, don’t you agree, it was well worth the effort?”

“Yes, Miss Anderson, I do appreciate it,” she said, hoping to ward off future spankings.

“Peabody, you may raise your so-called panties to their former position and return to your class now. Don’t forget your shoe too! You may also tell your teacher why you were here. I will be talking to her about this too.”

Miss Anderson admired the way the sobbing girl blushed as she bent over to pull up the tiny panties. Once she was properly attired underneath, and found her missing shoe, Amy shuffled out of the office. Her slow gait announcing to all who saw her of the recent, and very efficiently administered bare bottomed spanking she had just received “in the principal’s office.” Amy hoped no one would see her puffy eyes, wet face, and mascara lined cheeks, but it was the tiny steps that sent the message. She also knew that those flimsy panties were the only things she could wear for a few days. Her new form fitting slacks were out of the question.

Thankfully, those listening in to her juvenile, yet very severe, punishment were gone, but the word had gone out.

First things first, Amy went to the restroom and alternately washed her face and, very gently, held her burning buns. She then had a good cry, letting out the tension of the afternoon. She stayed there until 3 pm, waiting for the school day to be over. Her friends would not see her like this and chatting in the nearby after school coffee shop was out of the question. Somehow she would talk to her teacher tomorrow. She decided to walk the five blocks home, as sitting in the bus would be like backing into the thorns of a rose bush. However after just one block, her pained walk and puffy face announced to all in the neighborhood that this was the young girl soundly spanked today at Middlesex High, and Amy had no choice but to wait at the next bus stop, but stood on the ride home. When she finally arrived, it was a quick disrobing and a nice cool tub to soak her swollen, tender, and red butt cheeks in, on her knees of course. Letting her mother know was out of the question. Getting a hairbrush spanking on her red butt tonight would kill her.

Miss Anderson was right. This was a spanking to remember!

The End