Skipping School

A day at the beach sounded like a good idea.

By Kenny Walters

“What’s happening? Can you see?”

“I’m not sure. It looks like the boys are being led off towards the gymnasium. The girls are being kept in the dining hall.”

“Oh God! What do we do?”

“Let’s get closer, see what’s happening.”

Chelsea flicked her blond shoulder length hair back off her face and led the way. She stopped and looked through the first window between the outer passageway and the dining hall.

“Looks like the girls are being formed into three groups. Right up the far end, we’ve got Mrs Scott, Mr Andrews and Miss McIntire shoving tables around.”

“Why?” Susie, a pretty dark haired girl of Chinese ancestry whispered into Chelsea’s ear.

“Durr, for a friendly discussion on the merits of skipping school to go down the beach? What do you think?”

“Can you see any paddles?” Susie asked, hoping there might be some other reason for the teachers’ activity.

“Well, no, but then there’s about fifty girls between me and the end of the dining hall.”

“So, what are we going to do?” The third girl, Mary-Ann, tried to use her height to look over Chelsea and Susie and peer in. “Own up or hope they didn’t spot us and write down our names?”

“Let’s discuss this in the toilets before we get spotted and hauled in anyway.” Chelsea decided, and led the way.

They quickly checked no-one was in any of the cubicles before Susie asked: “What’s the chances they did see us and identified us?”

“I’d say fifty-fifty, what do you think Mary-Ann?” Chelsea put her bag on the counter and started tidying her make-up.

“I’d go with that. I just don’t think we were quick enough to spot them and start running.”

“We were pretty quick,” Susie said, not very convincingly.

“But we don’t know how long they were watching us before they showed themselves.” Mary-Ann’s near six foot height contrasted oddly with Susie’s five feet nothing.

“So, what do you reckon then, girls? Turn ourselves in and take whatever everyone else is getting, or take a chance and maybe suffer worse if we get found out?” Chelsea, satisfied the sweat incurred during their escape from the group of teachers that swarmed onto the beach had been satisfactorily repaired, swept her cosmetics into her bag and turned to face the other two.

“I’d say join the queue and take our medicine.” Mary-Ann suggested.

“I don’t want to be paddled.” Susie squeaked nervously. “I’ve never been paddled. I don’t want to be paddled now. It scares me.”

“It might just be two or three swats, if we take them now.” Mary-Ann placed a hand on Susie’s shoulder. “That’s got to be better than five or maybe even worse if they find we didn’t get done with the rest.”

“Then again, if we weren’t spotted we could get away with no swats.” Chelsea added.

“We don’t know it’s going to be swats, Chelsea.” Mary-Ann countered.

“Yeah, right.”

“Oh God! What are we going to do?” Susie stomped both legs up and down in fear.

“Whatever we do, we need to do it, like now.” Mary-Ann said. “It’ll look mighty odd if we suddenly turn up half-way through. Even that might get us extra swats.”

“So what do we do? Mary-Ann?” Chelsea elected herself Head Vote-Counter.

“Go for the swats now, as in NOW!”

“Susie?”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“That gives me the casting vote.” Chelsea thought for a moment. “Okay,” she said with a sigh. “Let’s get our butts spanked.”

When they got back to the dining hall, the other girls were already lined up in three rows. Chelsea joined the nearest row with Susie and Mary-Ann behind her.

“This is the queue for Mrs Scott.” Mary-Ann whispered, using her height to advantage.

“She paddles real hard, let’s change queues.” Chelsea answered equally softly, but not quietly enough.

“Hey! No switching!” Mr Donaldson called from the edge of the room.

“Oh great!” Susie said to no-one in particular.

Within moments, loud bangs could be heard from somewhere up front.

“Oh no!” Susie added.

“Sssh! Listen to see how many.” Mary-Ann replied. “Sounds like five.”

“Eek!” Susie.

“Seems they regard bunking off school to go down the beach as a mite serious.” Chelsea turned back to the other two. “And while I might be dressed for the beach, it ain’t so good for a paddling.”

Mary-Ann and Susie looked down at Chelsea’s thin cotton, and very high cut, shorts decorated with a floral design on a white background.

“My cotton pants are pretty thin too,” Susie added. “And I’ve only got a thong underneath.”

The other two looked at Susie’s thin pink cotton pants.

“Good choice, Mary-Ann.” Chelsea said. “Good time to be wearing blue jeans.”

“They’re very low-cut.” Mary-Ann said thoughtfully as she looked down at her waistband. “Someone will get a good view when I bend over.”

“Believe me,” Chelsea said with a grimace. “What’s on show will be the last thing on your mind when Mrs Scott takes aim at your butt.”

“Oh God! How did I get into this mess?” Susie squealed.

A fresh bout of loud bangs interrupted the conversation.

“Yep, five.” Mary-Ann confirmed.

“Are we allowed to beg for mercy?” Susie asked.

“Funny!” Chelsea answered.

It wasn’t long before another round of loud bangs was heard.

“Those sounds are getting nearer.” Mary-Ann commented.

“Gee, thanks, Mary-Ann.” Chelsea answered. “If you want to get even nearer, you can take my place.”

“No thanks.”

All too soon, the three girls found themselves practically at the front of the line. Chelsea looked the girl in front of her, a girl called Megan Zowaski, up and down.

“Soon get to the front, don’t you?” Chelsea said to her.

The comment was met with a red-faced glare.

“Megan?” Mrs Scott stood back to allow a small blond girl to raise herself up from the table and tearfully pass back up the line towards the door.

Megan moved forward with some reluctance and scowled into Mrs Scott’s face.

“Anything in your back pockets?”

Megan checked the back pockets of her faded blue cut-off jeans and shook her head.

“Assume the position.”

Megan sprawled down across the artificial maple table top, resting her upper body on her forearms and offering a pert round bottom for the teacher’s ministrations.

Mrs Scott swung the paddle, its blade more than a foot long and five inches wide, up above her shoulder height and then rained down five hefty swats in fairly rapid succession. Megan was squealing after the second and tears began streaming down her face after the third.

“Okay, girl, you’re done.” Once Megan had peeled herself from the table, Mrs Scott looked at Chelsea. “Okay, girl, you know what to do.”

Chelsea smiled ungenuinely at the teacher and took up her position across the table before closing her eyes. The brief cotton shorts rode up and exposed a little of the lower portions of Chelsea’s bottom.

Five hard swats soon rained down on the offered target, although Chelsea managed to neither squeal nor shed any tears.

“That’s your lot, Chelsea, unless you want extra.”

As Chelsea pushed herself up from the table, her face was pinched in and she gave a wry look to Mrs Scott before heading for the exit.

When Mrs Scott looked towards Susie, Susie stood rooted to the spot.

“I’m only going to spank you, girl. I’m not going to eat you.”

Susie reluctantly moved towards the table, her eyes still fixed on the teacher. “I’ve only got a thong under my pants, ma’am.”

“Then you’re liable to get the full benefit of my spanking, aren’t you honey? Bend over!”

Susie leaned over the table, taking some moments to get herself down flat on the hard surface. She could feel her bottom was really thrust out and she wriggled to try and find some position that maybe made it less conspicuous.

“Keep it still, honey. Here it comes.”

“Eek!”

As five firm swats whipped down onto the seat of her thin pink pants, that little squeak soon became five shrill loud shrieks as the wooden paddle hammered the cute small bottom.

“There you go, girl. All done.”

Susie quickly pushed herself up and scampered towards the door with both hands on the seat of her pants and tears streaming down her face.

Mary-Ann almost collided with the escaping Susie as she moved forwards towards the table. She caught Mrs Scott’s eye, but no words were exchanged and the eighteen year old bent down across the table without being asked.

“Anything in the back pockets of those jeans?”

She reached back and checked. There was just a note on a small scrap of paper which she clutched in her left hand as she offered up her bottom.

“Nothing else?”

Mary-Ann shook her head.

It took Mrs Scott just twelve seconds to inflict the five hard swats onto the seat of Mary-Ann’s jeans. Four gasps and a final protracted ouch confirmed the punishment had been received.

“That’s it, girl.”

Mary-Ann lifted herself up from the table, rubbed the seat of her jeans and headed for the door with as much dignity as she could muster.

Some way along the corridor, she noticed a classroom door open and Chelsea and Susie inside. Susie’s pants were lowered to her knees and she and Chelsea were inspecting the damage.

“I suppose it could have been worse.” Mary-Ann suggested as the others noticed her arrival. “That looks sore!” She added as she looked at Susie’s bottom.

Susie glared back. “I thought we were going to get just two or three. I distinctly remember someone saying it would likely be two or three!”

“I guess that’s the second mistake we made today, huh?”

The End

© Kenny Walters 2015