A girl worries about her school paddling

By Kenny Walters

“Oh, hello Pammy. What can I do for you?”

“I, er, I need a new pencil, Mr Parsons.”

“Hell Pammy, you work here most Saturdays. You know where they’re kept.”

I turned and went over to the rack where the art materials are. I chose a nice-looking pencil in shiny red and black, and went over to the counter to pay for it.

“You okay, Pammy?” Mr Parsons looked awkwardly at me. Perhaps I was giving off some signal that all was not well with me.

“I’d appreciate your advice on something, Mr Parsons. If you have the time.”

Mr Parsons looked at his watch. “It’s near on closing time. Why don’t you close up for me and I’ll go put some coffee on. Come join me in the stockroom when you’re done.”

There were no other customers in the store, so I simply locked and bolted the door, pulled the roller blinds down and turned the small sign to show ‘closed’. Then I went out back into the stockroom. He was pouring coffee into two large mugs and he gestured for me to sit in the little chair by the side of his desk.

“Mr Parsons, can I ask you something? I mean something in strictest confidence?”

I sipped at the coffee Mr Parsons put in front of me and waited for him to sit in the larger chair in front of the desk.

“Of course. Ask away. I’m listening. What’s on your mind, Pammy?”

Now, I’ve known Mr Parsons all my life, and since my father left mom and me for some out of state blond girlfriend ten years ago, he’s been my go-to male acquaintance whenever I’ve felt the need for a little guidance that I wouldn’t feel comfortable speaking to mom about.

“I guess I’m in a bit of trouble at school, Mr Parsons.”

“Okay. What did you do?”

Me and four friends took a little time off-campus this lunchtime, sir. We got caught.”

“That’s not exactly the crime of the century, Pammy. I guess we’ve all done that at some time or other.”

“No. No, it’s not.”

“So, where’s the problem, Pammy.”

I took a deep breath. “We were taken to a vice-principal, Mr Derekson. He gave us the option of Saturday morning detention or three licks with the paddle. We have to see him again at 2.30 tomorrow and each has to give him our decision.”

“Sounds about right,” Mr Parsons remarked, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. “But you did go off-campus. Right?”


“So, what’s the problem? Oh, are you worried about your Saturday job here? You know, if you take the Saturday detention? Hell, don’t worry about that. You’re allowed to miss the occasional Saturday. I’ll miss seeing you, but I’ll cope. Or you could work just the afternoon if you prefer.”

“It’s not that, Mr Parsons. But thanks for that. About the job, I mean.”

Mr Parsons turned to drinking his coffee, leaving me to speak up whenever I felt like it.

“You see, the thing is,” I paused. “This is confidential, right?”


“The thing is, I was all for taking the Saturday detention, but the others all want to go for the paddle and get it over with.”

Mr Parson nodded as he chewed over what I’d just said.

“Do you all have to make the same choice?”

“No, sir. We can make our own choice, but how will it look if I take the detention and all the others all take the spanking? They’ll think I’m a coward for one thing, and I’ll probably get ridiculed by them and everyone else.”

“You don’t think even one of the others might be having second thoughts and want to choose the detention?”

I shook my head. “No, they see getting it over with quick as the best choice.”

“So, what are your objections to taking the paddling?”

“It hurts, and I’m seventeen now. It’s undignified bending over so some teacher can spank my ass.”

“What’s it like in Saturday detention?”

“That’s pretty horrible too. We just sit around reading. We’re all different ages, so no one really talks to each other. It’s three hours of utter boredom.”

“Have you served Saturday detention before?”

I felt myself go hot and red in the face. “Once when I was eleven and again when I was fourteen.”

“So you know what it’s like?”

“Yes, sir.”

“But you still feel it’s a better deal than the spanking?”

I drew a deep breath and let it out. “I guess. Oh, I don’t know what to do,” I moaned.

“Okay, so let’s look at the Saturday detention. It’s boring. It’s no fun experience. It interrupts your normal Saturday routine. You might lose face with your friends and maybe other class members too. Will your mom know?”

I shook my head. “No, I’ll leave home pretty much the same time in the morning and the school won’t contact her. Only you will know.”

“And I won’t tell. Although if your mom did happen to come into the store, or maybe telephone, I wouldn’t want to lie to her either. I couldn’t say you were here when you weren’t.”

“Understood, Mr Parsons. If she were to find out then I’d deal with it. No problem.”

“Okay, Now, if you take the spanking with your friends, it’s going to take, what? Less than ten seconds to deliver the three swats?”

“I guess.”

“But you’d then not have your Saturday disrupted. You’d be there along with your friends. You’d not lose face with any of them, or any of the other students. Is that about right?”

“Yes, but the thought absolutely terrifies me.”

“You’ve not been paddled before?”

“No, sir. Mom spanked me once, but that was over her lap with the back of her hairbrush.”

“So, your fear is more fear of the unknown?”

“I’ve seen other girls, boys too, after they’ve been paddled. They’re sometimes in tears and rubbing their backsides.”

Mr Parsons chuckled. “Yeah, I guess that’s a part of it.”

I guess my look up at him told him I wasn’t altogether pleased he was making light of my predicament.

“I’m sorry, Pammy. I’m not making fun of you, really I’m not. I was just thinking back to my own schooldays.”

“But you think I should take the paddling?”

“I never said that. No, you need to make your own choice. But, we’ve summed up the pros and cons of the Saturday detention and the paddling, so hopefully you can look at it a little more rationally. I do think you’d be better off making your mind up which you’re going for, and then concentrate on preparing yourself for the consequences of whichever option sooner rather than leaving it to the last minute.”

“Sorry, sir. I don’t understand.” I frowned.

“Let’s say you choose to take the spanking. Who is going to do it?”

“Mr Derekson.”

“And I bet he’s paddled a good many students in his time. Right?”

“Right.” My voice had a shadow of doubt. Where was he going with this?

“So, he’ll have a routine. He’ll know what he says, pretty much. He’ll know how he wants the student to stand and position themselves. He’ll know already how he intends to apply the paddle. He’ll know pretty much what he says afterwards.”

“How does that help?”

“It means you will just have to follow his instructions, do whatever he says, then accept a few seconds of discomfort. Afterwards, he’ll dismiss you and off you’ll go. I doubt it’ll take more than a couple of minutes, and you’re done. Just follow his instructions.”

“You make it sound so simple,” I said huffily.

“It can be, if you accept that is what is going to happen and spend all your concentration on preparing yourself for that rather than worrying about which you’re going to choose right up until you have to deliver your decision.”

“I kind of see what you mean, sir,” I said nodding slowly as I thought.

“It would be much the same if you chose the detention. You’d worry about whether you’d tell your mother, whether she’d come into the store to see you and then find you weren’t here, who would be there with you in detention, and so on. Make your mind up soon, and prepare for whichever punishment you decide to take.”

We finished pretty much at that point, and I had a lot to think about as I walked home. Later that evening, I lay on my bed and decided I would take the paddling.

Next day at school, I met up with the other four. They looked at me kind of suspiciously, like they all knew I was the weakest link, the most likely to choose Saturday detention.

“What sanction are you going for, Pammy?” Hannah, a blond girl who was the self-elected leader of our little group, asked.

“I guess I’m getting my butt paddled,” I replied, and then added, “It’s easier. How about the rest of you guys?” I tried to sound brave, but the others all looked doubtful.

One by one, all four girls confirmed they would be asking Mr Derekson to paddle them.

“Okay, see you guys at 2.30,” Hannah said, as we split up to go to our lessons.

Not wanting to be late, I checked in at the secretaries’ station at just after 2.15. The secretary I spoke to, Mrs Hobbs, rummaged around and found a list with five names on it. She placed a tick against my name and sent me to sit outside the principal’s office where there were four chairs. I took the one at the furthest end, and spent the next five minutes worrying whether Mr Derekson might start at that end and work his way down the row, meaning I would be up first for my spanking. I didn’t want that, but then he might start at the other end, or maybe in the middle with the two chairs nearest his office door.

When the others started drifting in, we exchanged anxious-looking glances and three others sat down while the last girl in, May-Beth Lacey had to stand. Precisely at 2.30, the door to Mr Derekson’s office opened and he stood across the hallway from us.

“So, who is going for the Saturday detention and who wants to take the paddling?”

One by one, we all murmured, “Paddle, sir.”

“Okay, ladies,” he replied. “May-Beth, join me in my office.”

May-Beth, a tall, wiry girl with mousey-colored hair looked at the rest of us as though we’d conspired to leave her as the only one standing, and hence get her dealt with first. Why is it no one wants to go first?

Nothing much happened, and we couldn’t hear any talking. Then Mrs Hobbs, who I’d spoke to and who seemed to have possession of our list, came bustling down the hallway. She knocked gently on Mr Derekson’s door and went straight in.

For several minutes, we couldn’t hear much at all coming from inside the office, and then we heard, Pop! Pop! Pop! Ten seconds later, May-Beth emerged. Ignoring us, she headed straight back down the corridor. Only a brief rub on the seat of her blue jeans gave any clue about her spanking.

Moments later, Mrs Hobbs stuck her head outside the door and called for the girl, Sue Martinez, sitting on the chair at the other end from me, to enter the office. As before, we couldn’t hear much from the outside before the dreaded pops rang out. Sue was getting her ass spanked. A couple of minutes later, no more, and Sue came out rubbing her butt through her thin dress. She made sure her eyes didn’t meet with any of ours, and went back down the hallway rubbing her bottom.

Hannah was next, leaving just Megan Morrison and me sitting there. A few minutes and three pops later, then Hannah came back out. She went slowly back down the hallway, hands fixed by her side. Presumably, she didn’t want anyone to see her rubbing her backside.

Now Megan was next in line, so it came as a complete surprise when Mrs Hobbs stuck her head through the doorway and called for me to go with her into the office. Wow! That caught me completely by surprise. Even Megan looked at me as though wondering what was going on. She must have prepared herself to be next, just as much as I hadn’t.

Because I hadn’t got up immediately, Mrs Hobbs repeated her call for me to enter the office. I stood up, my legs feeling wobbly, and somehow I tottered across the hall and into the office. Mr Derekson stood by a chair that had been placed purposefully in a clear area between his desk and the window. He was waiting by this chair with a pale wooden paddle in his hand.

Now, Mr Derekson is a tall, thin, wiry kind of guy with a near bald head and unremarkable face. He’s probably around forty-five years old, and the wedding ring on the third finger of his left hand shone in the sunlight coming through the window. It’s funny how little things stick out in your mind at times like this.

“It’s three licks, Miss Goldstock. Please make sure you have nothing in any back pockets. If you do, remove them and place them on my desk. Then please bend over the back of the chair.”

Oh, that sounded so well-rehearsed.

Now, I was wearing a fairly tight-fitting red skirt with blue panties from my cheerleading outfit underneath. Okay, not good color sense but those were the best panties I had to cover as much of my backside as possible. They were thin cotton, so wouldn’t offer much in the way of protection, but better than nothing. Even though I clearly had no back pockets, I instinctively rubbed my hands down over the seat of my skirt to demonstrate I had checked.

“No back pockets, sir,” I confirmed.

He tapped the back top rail of the chair.

This chair had a padded seat, no arms, and three thin horizontal rails between the top rail and the seat. It wasn’t particularly high, and I should be easily able to bend over the back. It was only the sight of Mr Derekson and the paddle that made the task complicated. Somehow, my basic resolve to just march in there, bend over, and take my licks had totally evaporated.

Then Mrs Hobbs gave me a shove in the back.

Having been given a little momentum forward, I managed to keep going until I reached the back of the chair. I leaned over and closed my eyes.

“You’ll need to get further over, Miss Goldstock.” The voice was female and it came from behind me. “Mr Derekson needs you to stick your butt right out so he can hit accurately.”

Oh, okay.

I mean, really? Like, I should make his job of paddling my butt nice and easy? Was it really not that obvious where my butt was?

The thing was, they weren’t going to proceed until I’d got myself where they wanted me. I grabbed the seat of the chair and forced my head down and my backside out. My skirt felt really tight now, like it was molded around my bottom.

Mr Derekson tapped the paddle against my butt three times. This was it! I kept my eyes closed.


The paddle slammed into my backside and a line of pain instantly spread across the width of both buttocks. Wow! That hurt!

“Keep steady, Miss Goldstock.” Mrs Hobbs seemed to be standing behind and slightly to my right. She was taking her role of witness very literally.

Pow! The second swat crashed into my butt, and that really hurt. Tears sprang into my eyes.


The third and final lick impacted with my backside and it felt awful. It hurt, it smarted, and my backside felt bruised. I gasped for breath. The spanking was like nothing I had ever experienced before.

“Thank you, Miss Goldstock. You are free to leave.”

I stood up. My legs were still trembling, and the backs of my thighs ached. I guess it was from the tension of it all.

“I’ll show you out,” added Mrs Hobbs.

I was still recovering from the shock, so I didn’t move initially. I rubbed the back of my skirt. My bottom felt very sore and I just knew there would be serious bruising. As I headed for the door, I felt I was walking awkwardly. Mrs Hobbs pulled the door open just as I got there, and out I went.

Megan looked up like she was looking to see what kind of a state I was in, and she was clearly terrified. I heard the door close behind me.

“It’s not so bad,” I said, and I gave the seat of my skirt another rub.

Megan didn’t reply. As I walked slowly back down the hall, I heard her being called in.


The following day, Saturday, I arrived at Mr Parsons store to find he was already there and had opened up, although there were no customers yet.

“Hi, Pammy. The coffee’s about ready.”

“Thanks,” I replied as I followed him through to the back room.

“So, how was it?” He asked as he stood with his back to me pouring the coffee.

I sat on the small chair by the side of his desk. My backside was still sore and a bit bruised, but I tried not to grimace too much.

“It was okay,” I answered. “I took your advice and worried about how I would deal with it rather than about making the decision. It kind of worked.”

“Did all of you take the paddling? Did no one go for the detention?”

“No, sir. We all got paddled.”

“So, how do you feel today? Do you feel okay to work?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, I’m still a bit sore, but I’ll be fine.”

“That’s good to hear. Do you think you made the right choice?”

“Yes, sir, I do. It was like you said, Mr Derekson and the secretary who acted as witness both knew what they were doing and we just had to follow their instructions. It was over in next to no time. The waiting outside the office was probably the worst part.”

“The anticipation?”

“Yes, sir.”

The End

© Kenny Walters 2021

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