A US school paddling told from several perspectives

By Kenny Walters

Amy Marshall, 6.50 am

As I leave the house clutching my school books the slight breeze is already very warm. I guessed it would be. That’s why I wore a thin cotton dress, white with a red floral pattern, because this is supposed to be the hottest day of the year so far. The dress reaches to within four inches of my knees which means it should comply with the dress code at Ryetimber High. I’ve got straight A grades and getting an in-school detention, which would mean losing marks as well as serving the Saturday detention in my own time, just isn’t on my agenda.

I look down the street just as a red Mustang convertible turns the corner. That’s cool. It means we shouldn’t be late. My friend, Kelly Hannerman, is usually pretty reliable even though she can be feisty. It’s just reassuring to see the Mustang actually pulling into the kerb.

As I set myself down into the seat I pull a face. “Kelly! Are you crazy?”

“What? Have I still got blood on my lips from breakfast?” She looks at herself in the rear-view mirror and purses her lips. Kelly’s no kind of vampire and anyway her long blonde hair wouldn’t suit.

“Quit fooling!” I reprimand her. “I’m talking about what you’re wearing.”

“This pink T-shirt? Why? Do you think the colour’s too vivid? I made sure it almost reaches my midriff. I wouldn’t want to offend the dress code, as you know very well.”

“You might just get away with the shirt. The shorts? No way.”

“White shorts? What’s wrong with white shorts?”

“How about the length, or lack of it? And they’re a mite low slung too.”

“You think the boys will object?”

I laugh. “No, I don’t think the boys will, but how about Mr Gravett, or any of the staff for that matter?”

“Mr Gravett? I reckon our dear vice-principal will love my little shorts. He’s not averse to a sneaky look at a girl’s figure, you know. Even at his age.”

“I know. I’m just worried he’s going to get a real good look when you’re serving in-school detention.”

“Aw, you worry too much.”

Kelly Hannerman, 7.12 am

I check my watch. We need to get into the school parking lot by seven-twenty latest and we should just make it so long as the traffic doesn’t get any heavier. My companion and best friend, Amy Marshall, is a real swot. I love her though, because there isn’t a mean ounce in her slender little body. I still enjoy teasing her all the same.

The sun has been up for the best part of three hours now and it’s getting real warm. I’m glad I chose to wear these little shorts and this thin top. It would be sweltering otherwise. Amy’s worried about me breaking the dress code, something they’re very hot on at Ryetimber High. What I haven’t told her is that I have a long wrap-around skirt and a sash to go round my waist stowed away in my bag on the back seat. So long as I put it on before I go into the school buildings I should be okay.

“Why are we all queuing to get into the parking lot?”

Amy looks round the windshield. “I’m not sure. Every so often someone is being made to back out again, but then they’re letting some through. Hold on, I can see Mr Gravett trying to organise things. Looks like he’s got old Miss Spencer with him too.”

“Dress code inspection!” We both reach the same conclusion.

“Quick, open my bag on the back seat, Amy. There’s a long white wrap-around skirt and a waist sash inside. If I can get them on before we get to the front of the queue, we should be okay.”

“We?” Amy gives me a look before turning around in her seat and unzipping my bag. She soon has the skirt and, as I struggle to keep driving slowly forward while lifting myself up off the seat, she feeds the skirt on under me.

“There’s a couple of safety pins somewhere. See if you can find them and fasten my skirt together.”

We’re just three cars away from the front of the line now. My skirt’s on but it’s falling apart down the side of my leg. It needs the pins to hold it together. I need to get the sash on too, otherwise they’ll say it’s too low cut.

“Hold still!” Amy berates me, even though she’s just stuck me with one of the pins.

We’re next in line and my sash is round my waist but the knot is far from secure.

“Good morning, ladies.”

“Good morning Mr Gravett.” We respond together. The vice-principal is looking over our clothes from one side, while old Miss Spencer is standing on the other side. My skirt and sash are just about holding together and covering everything that needs to be covered. I’m still worried when Mr Gravett and Miss Spencer look at each other.

“Would you step out of the car, please Miss Hannerman?”

“Step out? Why?” I look at my watch. It’s seven-sixteen. “We don’t want to be late, sir.”

“Just step out of the car, Miss Hannerman.”

Mr Gravett opens the car door for me and I step out trying hard not to cause my skirt too much stress. It falls apart as soon as I stand up and shows my white shorts.

“I’m going to have to give you a referral, Miss Hannerman. Dress code violation.”

“It’s just that the pins need fixing a little better, sir. I’ll have it done in a moment.”

“That’s as maybe, Miss Hannerman. Meanwhile, you need to back out of the line.”

“Surely the dress code doesn’t apply until we’re entering the school buildings, sir?”

“It applies anywhere on the school campus, Miss Hannerman. Now back up.”

If I’ve learnt one thing at Ryetimber High it’s that you just don’t waste your breath arguing with Mr Gravett. I drop back into the driver’s seat and select reverse.

“You want to get out here, Amy? You’ve passed muster.”

“I better stick with you, Kelly. If I don’t help you, you’ll never get that outfit sorted.”

So, we back out and park up across the street. We’re in a line of about six others all doing much the same thing. We get out of the car and I wrap the skirt tightly around my waist and secure it with a pin. I make sure it’s real tight. The skirt goes round me almost twice but just to be sure I don’t flash any leg Amy puts pins in all the way down to the hem. I put the sash on and tie it with a bow. It’s wide, so it should cover any bare midriff left by my skimpy top and low cut shorts.

Five minutes later, we’re back in line waiting to get into the parking lot. When we reach Mr Gravett and Miss Spencer he asks me to step out of the car again.

“Turn right around, Miss Hannerman.” Miss Spencer asks. “I want to see that skirt holds in place.”

I do, and it does.

“Well, I suppose it will do.” Miss Spencer confirms grudgingly.

“Okay, you can proceed, ladies.” Mr Gravett checks his watch. “You are now both late. I have to give you each a referral for that.”

“Oh great!” I hear Amy mutter.

“That’s not fair, sir!” I object.

“It’s entirely fair, Miss Hannerman. If you dressed appropriately this morning you’ve have been allowed through first time around. You chose to take a risk. You pay the price.”

“What about Amy, sir? It’s not her fault.”

“She chose to stay with you and help you out, Miss Hannerman. If that makes her late then she has to pay the price too.”

“But, sir!”

I know I’m wasting my time. Mr Gravett simply waves me through and the cars behind start honking their horns. I have no option other than to get back behind the wheel and take us through into the parking lot.

“I don’t like to say I told you so, but I told you so.” Amy says after an awkward silence.

“I’ll have another word.” I answer. “I’m sure Mr Gravett will see reason once he’s had a chance to think about it.”

“Oh, really?”

John Gravett, 8.55 am

As I settle down into my chair, I spread the tally Miss Spencer kept of all the referrals we issued this morning. It looks like we have a total of eighteen dress code referrals for the girls and just three for the boys. Then we have nine tardies for the girls and four for the boys. It looks like most of the girls’ tardies followed on from their getting dress code violations, where the boys were just plain late. Whatever, that’s a tidy haul and I’ll have them attend the gymnasium straight after lunch. There just isn’t enough room in my office or around the secretary’s station to accommodate that number.

John Gravett, 12.35 pm

“Okay, listen up!” I raise my voice so I can be heard above the noisy chatter as I enter the gymnasium with Miss Spencer hard on my heels. The room goes silent.

“I want you to know I’m disappointed.” As I get up on the stage at one side of the gymnasium, the female and male students look up at me. “There just should not be this number of you failing to comply with the dress code, or failing to get through the gates on time, or both.

“You’ve all been here long enough to know what we require of you.”

“Sir, some of us give lifts to others and just because one occupant fails the Dress Code shouldn’t mean the other occupants get tardies as a result. It’s simply not fair.” A pretty blonde girl interrupts my flow.

“Thank you, Miss Hannerman. That situation was explained to you at the time. Now, each referral for dress code violation earns you one half day In-School Suspension, each tardy also earns you one half day In-School Suspension. These will be served next Saturday. The mathematicians amongst you will realise that if you have both a dress code violation and a tardy then you’re going to be in suspension the whole day, the remainder with just one violation will be with us for only the morning.

“If anyone wants to avoid the In-School Suspensions they can come see me after three-fifteen this afternoon. I will administer three swats for a single violation and five for a double violation. You may continue with your break.”

I jump off the stage and stride firmly out of the gymnasium amidst a general groan of unrest. Miss Spencer tries to keep up with me.

Amy Marshall 12.45 pm

As Kelly and I follow the others out of the gymnasium, I’m not happy.

“Oh great! I was meant to be going bowling with my family on Saturday.”

“You still can, Amy.”

“Oh, what? Let Mr Gravett pound my butt into a pulp? I think not.”

“Heck, it’s not that bad.”

“Oh, you know, do you? I mean, you’re speaking from experience, right?”

“Well no, but I’ve heard the others. No-one’s died from it so far.”

“Really? Well that’s okay then. I mean, he’s just going to pat our butts ever so gently and send us on our way, isn’t he? It won’t hurt or anything and we’ll be searching out some good ol’ hard wooden benches to check out how much our butts aren’t hurting, won’t we?”

I’ve reached my next class and stop by the open door. Kelly has another three rooms further along the corridor to go.

“Let’s talk later.” She says. “All I know is I’ve got an audition for a modelling job come Saturday and I don’t intend to miss it.”

“Hope they like nice red butts peeking out from under your bikini pants, honey!” I smile sarcastically as Kelly turns away for her own class.

“You taking the paddle, Kelly?” Billy-Jim O’Connor overhears as he heads for the same class as Kelly. “Gee, I’d even pay to watch that!”

Kelly Hannerman 1.15 pm

This History of Art class is boring. Actually, it isn’t. It’s just that I’m finding it hard to concentrate. That modelling audition on Saturday is something I’ve been aiming for since goodness knows when. I really can’t afford to miss it, which means I seriously have to consider getting the paddle from Mr Gravett this afternoon, and he has a fearsome reputation.

I guess I’m feeling guilty too about poor Amy, who really looks forward to bowling with her family. If I hadn’t tried to be clever with the shorts this morning, we wouldn’t have been late and she wouldn’t even have had to think about serving an In-School Suspension.

I’m thinking it would be good to have Amy lining up with me outside Mr Gravett’s office this afternoon. Then I get a fresh bout of guilt because I’m selfishly thinking her presence would help me with my own fear, even though it would mean she could have her Saturday with her family. But then, am I trying to alleviate my own guilt about her missing out rather than truly believing the paddling would be the better option. If I’m really honest – yes.

Amy Marshall 3.05 pm

That concludes my classes for today. Most of the others are rushing off to the exits on their way home. I would be too, but I’m thinking about Kelly. She needs my support. No, I wasn’t fooled by all her bravado about being paddled by Mr Gravett as no great deal. I know how much that modelling audition means to her, otherwise I’m sure she’d never even contemplate a paddling.

“Kelly! Let’s use the cafetaria next to the main dining hall. It’ll be quiet now.”

“Okay.”

Already I can hear the tension in Kelly’s voice. I take her arm and steer her along to the cafeteria. There’s just three others there and we pick a table that’s as far from them as we can get. The serving counter is closed but we can get water from a cooled jar.

“You’re intent on going through with this?” I ask as we sit down.

“I guess I have to. I really can’t afford to miss that audition.” Kelly ignores her water and folds her arms on the table and flops her head down. “What are you going to do?”

“Worry about how to tell my folks I’m going to miss Saturday bowling?”

“This is not funny!” Kelly rebukes my poor attempt at humour. “Come with me.”

“I’ll come with you up to the secretary’s station.” I confirm. “Beyond that, you’re on your own. I wouldn’t want Mr Gravett or anyone else to get the idea I’m queuing up for a paddling too.”

“Do you think there’ll be many there?”

“Half a dozen, I guess.”

“Shall we?”

I look round at the clock. It’s gone three-fifteen. We get up and walk slowly along to the secretary’s station. Looking beyond to the corridor that runs by Mr Gravett’s office we see one boy and seven or eight girls sitting and standing as they wait their turn. Another three boys and five girls are hovering, considering their options.

“Guess I’d better join the line, otherwise we won’t be getting home this side of midnight.” Kelly tries to put on a brave face, not very successfully. We embrace and she joins the others outside Mr Gravett’s office while I sit down on one of a small row of vacant chairs lined up against the wall leading to the way out. I choose one where I can keep an eye on Kelly’s progress.

Almost immediately, a boy leaves Mr Gravett’s office and walks towards me and the exit. He looks a little unsteady on his feet and finds a need to wipe his eye with the back of his hand. He ignores me looking up at him and then I ignore him because Miss Spencer has stepped out of the office and is inviting one of the waiting girls in.

“Trying to work up the courage?”

“I’m sorry?”

I must have been day-dreaming because I hadn’t noticed Ally Westmore, a small petite dark haired girl from one of my classes, sit down next to me.

“I saw you watching the others lining up outside Mr Gravett’s office.” Ally explains. “I guess you’re wondering what to do too, right?”

“Er, no. I’m just waiting for Kelly Hannerman. She gives me a lift home most days.”

As I speak, I look towards the line outside Mr Gravett’s office. It’s slowly getting shorter, and Kelly is still the last in line. She gives me a little wave and I wave back.

“But you were in the gymnasium too, weren’t you? I’m sure I saw you there. Didn’t you get a referral this morning?”

“Yes, a tardie.”

“Me too. I was running a little late and then I got caught up in the queue waiting to get into the parking lot.”

“Kelly got a dress code violation so we had to back out and sort her out. By the time we got back to the head of the line we were late, so we both got tardies.”

“Wow! Does that mean Kelly’s going for five swats?”

“I guess so.”

We both keep quiet as we eye a tall blonde girl walking past, coming from the direction of Mr Gravett’s office. She gives her bottom a gentle rub over her tight blue jeans as she passes.

“I have a Saturday job so I really need my Saturdays free, but I’m just so terrified of the idea of Mr Gravett spanking my butt.”

“Yes, I’m supposed to be going bowling with my family next Saturday. My parents are not going to be amused when I tell them I can’t make it.”

“So take the spanking. It’s only three swats.”

“I’m, like, with you? The thought of Mr Gravett aiming a wooden paddle at my bottom isn’t exactly my idea of fun.”

“It would save all the hassle with your parents though, wouldn’t it?”

“Well, yes.”

“All for the sake of three swats? Come on, it can’t be that bad, can it?”

“Well, I guess nobody ever died from it.”

“Exactly, come on let’s do it.”

“What?” By this time Ally’s standing up and tugging on my arm. I look across at Kelly who is now sitting alone outside Mr Gravett’s office and looking sorrowfully back at me, almost imploring me to go join her. As I allow myself to be hauled to my feet I’m thinking just how awkward it’s going to be explaining to my parents about Saturday. As I’m dragged by Ally across to Mr Gravett’s office I’m feeling very afraid and my heart is racing.

“Changed your mind?” Kelly looks up as we join her.

“I guess so.” I answer in the affirmative when all the time I’m thinking I ought to be replying in the negative.

“It gets it over with quick.” Ally adds, perhaps trying to convince herself.

Before any of us can speak again, the door opens and a tearful Hispanic girl is ushered out of the office by Miss Spencer.

“Okay, Kelly. We’re ready for you.”

Miss Spencer must be at least a hundred years old, well, at least sixty then. She’s thin and her grey hair is always tied back in a tight bun. She wears a floral dress that appears a couple sizes too big for her. Kelly gets up and makes sure her wrap around skirt is well in place. As she goes through, Ally and I both peer in to see what we can see. Mr Gravett is standing by his desk, holding a pale coloured wooden paddle and looking quite menacing. He’s big with black hair greased back.

When the door closes, Ally speaks up: “It looked quite a small paddle, didn’t you think?”

“The guy holding it didn’t.”

Ally clams up and we hear some muffled conversation, with both Mr Gravett and Kelly speaking. Is Kelly still trying to get me off? Whatever, there’s seems a whole lot of talking going on. A chair scrapes, then moments later we hear a loud bang. Ally and I both jump.

Within a few seconds, we hear another loud bang, then a shrill little yelp. I hear a second yelp in my right ear, courtesy of Ally.

As I sit there wringing my hands, we hear another bang. I swear they’re getting progressively louder.

Ally Westmore 3.35 pm

I’m sitting outside Mr Gravett’s office with Amy Marshall counting the swats that poor Kelly’s getting just a few feet away from us. Because of the hot day, I’m wearing thin pink cotton pants with a white T-shirt and wishing I’d worn thicker jeans. We’ve heard Kelly getting three swats out of her five, no that’s another loud bang so that’s four now. Any minute Kelly’s going to leave and Miss Spencer is going to take either Amy or me inside. The way we’re sitting, it will be Amy next. I’m getting hot and tense, and being paddled is a whole new experience for me. I really want to get it over with, and listening to Amy getting hers first isn’t going to do much for my nerves.

“Do you want to go next, Amy?” I ask. “Only the way we’re sitting, Miss Spencer will take you before me.”

Amy shrugs. “Not really.”

“Shall we change places?” I ask, and I can feel the desperation in my voice.

“If you want.” Amy gives another shrug and I move over to the chair to her left. “Wow!” We hear another bang, and that was really loud. I’m clenching my teeth and gripping my hands together real tight.

“Uuuh!!” The door opens and although we should have been expecting it we still both jump. Kelly is being pushed out the door by Miss Spencer. Her long blonde hair looks a mess and there’s tears streaming down her face. She has both hands planted on the seat of her white shorts, the white wrap around skirt she was wearing when she went in is hanging from her hands and almost draping on the floor.

As Kelly ignores us and walks away, Miss Spencer looks at Amy and me. I’m on the edge of the chair, Amy is sitting back chewing her thumb nail. Miss Spencer blinks, like she’s sure we were sitting the other way around when she last saw us. I wonder if she’ll say anything.

“Oh, looks like you’re next, Ally.”

I leap up, take a breath and take a step through the door. I feel Miss Spencer’s hand in the small of my back pushing me forward and I tell myself there’s no going back now.

John Gravett 3.34 pm

I’m standing by my desk holding my favourite paddle which I made myself from a piece of maple I had over from building an item of furniture at home. It’s about eighteen inches long, four inches wide and three-eighths of an inch thick. I’ve oiled it, so the white maple has just a hint of yellow to it and it’s well sanded.

Kelly Hannerman has just left my office and Miss Spencer is ushering in another girl, small and petite with dark hair. It’s Ally Westmore. The cotton pants she’s wearing look mighty thin and I’m thinking this old paddle of mine is going to give her a real good spanking even though my list tells me she’s only due three swats for a tardy.

Ally’s gait is unsteady, and I guess Miss Spencer pushing her along isn’t helping with that. Ally looks at the paddle I’m holding, then at me, then at the low-backed office chair that’s standing out in front of my desk. Ally hesitates. She seems to be wondering whether she should come face me or go stand by the chair. I wave her towards the chair.

“Stand behind the chair with your feet a little apart, Miss Westmore. When you’re ready, bend over, grab the sides of the chair and poke your butt right out.”

Ally takes a couple of steps, then shuffles about a little until her feet are just three inches apart and leans over the chair. Stretching down, her hands lightly hold the sides of the upholstered chair seat.

“Legs further apart, please Miss Westmore. Head much lower and get that butt right back.”

Her legs are about eight inches apart now, and that will do. Her head’s gone down a mite and her pretty little bottom is stretching those pinks pants just nicely, but I put my hand on her back and push her head just a little lower. The pants stretch even more.

“Three swats, I believe Miss Westmore?”

“Yes, sir.” The reply is sharp, almost military in manner. I guess that’s her way of coping with the nerves.

I’m right behind her no, looking down at that lovely little bottom. I place the paddle gently onto the seat of those tight pants and rub gently in a kind of circular motion. Suddenly, I quickly pull the paddle back and lean into a good forceful swing that bangs the paddle hard across both buttocks.

“Unn!!” I hear a little grunt and I can just see Ally’s left eye screwing up.

I give the seat of those pants another little rub, just so she knows it’s coming, and swing another good hard stroke across that cute little bottom.

Ally’s back arches up and her whole face screws up, but she doesn’t grunt. She will after the next one.

“Back into position, Miss Westmore.”

“Yes, sir.” Ally answers promptly enough, but the military edge has gone. It sounds like she’s on the point of crying.

I give the seat of those tight pink pants another quick rub, draw the paddle way back and put all my, some say, not insubstantial weight into hurtling that paddle down. It hits home with a resounding bang that near rattles the window glass.

“Oooooww!!”

“That completes your punishment, Miss Westmore. You may go. Miss Spencer will strike your name from the in-school detention list.”

Ally lifts herself up from her bending position and shows no qualms about rubbing her bottom in front of Miss Spencer and me. While Miss Spencer notes the clipboard, Ally looks around as though uncertain where the door is. It takes a moment for Miss Spencer to replace the clipboard on the shelf, but then she takes Ally by the arm and leads her out.

Amy Marshall 3.41 pm

Why did I allow myself to get into this situation? Two boys and a girl have joined me on the row of seats, but they’re in a younger year group and I don’t know them. They sit a little away from me and we don’t talk.

I’ve listened to the sounds of Kelly getting five swats and Ally getting three and my heart is pounding because I know at any moment that door is going to open and Miss Spencer is going to push me on through.

Am I scared? You bet. But curiously, I’m excited too. I’ve never been paddled before, not counting a couple slaps on my behind from mom when I was younger, but she just used her hand and it didn’t really hurt much.

I’ve seen many others over the years lining up here, waiting to take a paddling from Mr Gravett, and often been curious about what it’s like. I know it’s going to hurt, but that just adds to the excitement. I’m wearing a thin dress and kind of wish I’d worn pants so the material was stretched properly across my behind. I’m known as a quiet studious type that never gets into trouble, so I guess my status will soar after this. It’s kind of like joining a club, I guess.

The door opens and Ally Westmore gets pushed out by Miss Spencer. Ally looks like she’s shed a tear or two and her behind is getting a gentle rub with the back of her hand. She gives me a feeble grin and then walks slowly away.

“Amy? Your turn.” Miss Spencer manages to look totally devoid of emotion, but I get the feeling she quite relishes watching us get our behinds tanned.

I’m quickly on my feet and I’m through the door before Miss Spencer is able to give me a shove. Have I disappointed her?

Mr Gravett is standing by the side of his desk holding the paddle. It’s a very pale wood and the blade looks really smooth. He runs his eyes down my dress. Is he disappointed I’m not wearing pants that will stretch tightly around my behind when I bend over?

There’s a low-backed office chair in front of his desk. It’s made of a similar wood to the paddle with a seat that’s been thinly upholstered in a bright blue woollen material. I tell myself I won’t be testing the comfort of that seat today and the thought almost makes me smile. That would not look good, I guess.

Am I supposed to go stand by the chair, or does Mr Gravett want me to stand in front of him while he gives me a stern talking-to? No, he waves me towards the chair.

I stand squarely behind the back of the chair and fiddle with the polished wood top rail. I know I’m going to feel something similar hitting me hard across my behind in a few moments time. That thought frightens me and excites me both at the same time.

Mr Gravett is standing behind me and over to my left. He’s a big man and I can hear his breathing. It’s pretty quick and I get the feeling he’s excited too at the prospect of paddling me.

“I need you to stand with your feet a little way apart, then bend over the back of the chair with your head low down and your hands gripping the edges of the seat.”

Mr Gravett’s voice is loud and clear, but do I detect just a hint of a tremor? Nonetheless, I feel totally in his control. I know I have no decisions to make, no choice in the matter. I have simply to obey and allow him to punish me as hard as he desires.

My feet are now about eight inches apart and I’m leaning over the chair. I take hold of the sides and keep going down until my head is level with the front edge of the chair. My bottom feels pushed out already but I force it out even more. My dress has ridden up and the hem must be close to showing my underwear. My underwear! A tiny pink thong that leaves my buttocks totally uncovered. I wonder if Mr Gravett realises.

“One tardy, three swats. Is that correct, Miss Marshall?”

Miss Marshall? It sounds so formal. That’s thrilling too, though. I have committed, not really through my own wrong-doing, the offence of being late into school and for that I must be punished in the prescribed manner by having three swats of the paddle applied to my behind.

“That’s correct, sir.”

“I want you to keep real still, Amy. This is going to hurt but if you keep your bottom still we can get this over with nice and quick.”

Do I want this to be over ‘nice and quick’?

“Yes, sir. I know I’ve done wrong and I know I have to be punished, sir. My dress feels a little loose around my behind. Will that affect the spanking, sir?”

I hear Mr Gravett smirk. “No, Amy, you don’t need to worry about that.”

Eek! The paddle is now touching my behind and I can practically feel the grain through the thin material of my dress. I get several light taps and I know the first swat is coming any moment. I’m clutching onto the sides of the chair for dear life and I feel no excitement, just plain fear.

Aaaaaaaarrgghh!! A loud bang echoes round the room and something hard slams across both buttocks. The pain is indescribable and my eyes are watering. I know I didn’t actually cry out. I think the pain was so intense it took my breath away so I couldn’t utter anything audibly.

I feel another couple taps and then nothing.

Yeeeeeeeeeoouch!! A second loud bang bounces off the walls as that hard board pounds into my poor buttocks. If I could have, I would have cried out. I’m wriggling my hips to settle the pain, but it doesn’t really help. If Kelly needs help again, she’s on her own!

“Lower your head again, please Miss Marshall. Stick your butt out.”

Oh no! Despite all my promises to take my punishment honourably, I haven’t. It hurts, but I force my head back down and push my very sore bottom out.

Just as the pain melts infinitesimally so I feel the dreaded taps on the seat of my dress again. I’m gripping the edges of the chair so much my fingers hurt.

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeoooowww!! Oh my God! Aaaaaaaaaaarrrrgh!! I never heard the bang. The pain just cut out all other responses. My behind is simply on fire! It’s an inferno! My back is arched and tears are streaming down my face.

“Okay, Miss Marshall. You may leave.”

I push back off the chair and straighten up. I blink a couple of times, then wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. My bottom feels hot and sore, but I turn and head a bit shakily towards the door. Miss Spencer is already holding it open for me to pass through. I stop and turn. “Thank you, sir.” I ignore the faces looking up nervously as I turn left towards the exit.

Ally Westmore 3.48 pm

I’m sitting in the front passenger seat of Kelly’s Mustang. The top is down and we’re drinking bottles of Coke. Kelly and I aren’t friends exactly, but we know each other and it was easy to spot her car in the parking lot now that more than half of the students have left campus. I look at my watch.

“They should pretty well have finished with Amy now.”

“Guess so.”

“She should be out any minute.”

“Yep.”

Kelly is not being what you might call talkative right now. She seems deep in thought and all my attempts to strike up a conversation haven’t worked. I’m really waiting to see Amy. Perhaps I should have waited inside the school entrance.

“Here she comes!” I practically squeal with delight as I see Amy exit the school building. Her summer dress looks real pretty. She’s walking slowly towards the car. I open the car door and step out.

“How did it go?”

“Okay.”

“Really?” I look into Amy’s hazel eyes like I’m expecting to read a different story in them. I don’t, but they look red where she’s been crying.

“Yes.” Amy nods her head. “Yes, it was okay.”

“Are you two going to stand around gassing all day?”

We both turn to look at Kelly, sitting low down in the driver’s seat with her long tanned legs splayed out under the brief white shorts.

“Come on, get in. I’ve had enough of this place for one day.”

I’m unsure whether the invite is for me too, but Amy folds the front seat forward and climbs into the rear. She pulls the seat back for me to climb in the front. I’m barely in before Kelly fires the engine and then we’re away.

Amy Marshall 3.52

This back seat isn’t feeling too comfortable, but then I guess no seat would in the circumstances. I’m fidgeting around, then I find I’m sitting on Kelly’s wrap-around skirt.

“Kelly, when you went in to Mr Gravett’s office you were wearing this skirt but when you came out you weren’t. What was that all about?”

“You can thank dear old Miss Spencer for that. She made the point that as I was wearing just the shorts when I was stopped for the dress code violation, then I ought to be paddled in just the shorts too.”

“The bitch!”

“Of course, Mr Gravett saw an opportunity and said he didn’t think it fair that I should be allowed two items of outer clothing when all the others only had the one.”

“You think he relished the idea of paddling you across the seat of your tiny little shorts?”

“Uh-huh.”

I giggle at the thought of Mr Gravett drooling over Kelly’s pert butt in those little tight shorts.

“That is not funny!” Kelly looks over her shoulder to stress her indignation.

The End

© Kenny Walters 2014