Trouble at School Means Trouble at Home

Sarah finds herself in a trouble at school and then again at home with her new family

By Miss Em (A new writer to us)

Part 1: Trouble at School

The school clock behind the secretary read 1:30 as Sarah Crane shifted in her seat, then twirled her pony-tail. It had been almost twenty minutes since she was sent to the office.

‘I’m going to be in so much trouble,’ Sarah thought, as she waited for the Principal. ‘Smoking is an automatic paddling or a Saturday detention or both.’ Sarah rubbed her sweaty hands on her blue jeans.

“Miss Crane, join me please.” Towering over the five foot school girl, six-foot-two, 225 lbs, Principal Mark Johnson spoke firmly as he held the door open for Sarah to enter. Afterwards he closed the door. “Stand in front of my desk,” he commanded as he took his seat behind the large oak desk. “Do you know why you’re here, Miss Crane?”

Sarah looked at the floor and nodded.

“Speak up, girl.”

Sarah bit her lip, looked at the handsome, dark-haired gentleman with blue eyes, and spoke softly. “Yes sir; Mrs Dexter caught me smoking in the girls’ restroom.”

“And you are aware of what our Code of Conduct and Discipline Booklet states on the matter of tobacco on campus?”

“Yes, sir. A Saturday detention, a paddling, or both.”

“Very well. Since I didn’t have a parent’s permission for corporal punishment form on file, I had to contact a parent. Your father was very supportive of our discipline program.”

“You talked to Mr Wilson?!” Sarah still referred to her adoptive parents by their surname. Even though she had been in their custody for almost four months, she still had not been able to call them Mom and Dad. It had been a little over two years since her parents were killed in an automobile accident. The petite girl with a long, blonde pony-tail nervously stood in front of the principal.

“Yes, we had a nice conversation about you, your behavior and your work since you’ve been here.”

“Oh,” she said trying to avoid eye contact. “Did Mr Wilson say you could paddle me?”

“You call your father – ‘Mr Wilson’? He is you father, isn’t he?”

She nodded. “My parents died two years ago. I was in foster care until July. Mr and Mrs Wilson are my adopting parents. But the adoption won’t be finalized for several more months. I can’t get use to calling strangers mom and dad.”

Mr Johnson nodded in understanding. “Well, your father did agree to my paddling you, so let’s attend to this and get you back to class.”

As he spoke, Sarah stared at the wooden paddle Mr Johnson took from a bottom drawer and placed on top of the desk. Sarah saw a half inch thick, fourteen inch long rectangular board with a five inch handle. On one side, the words ‘The Adjuster’ was painted in bright red.

“Join me here, Miss Crane.”

Sarah nervously moved toward the end of the desk as directed. She had never been paddled before. “Couldn’t I have a Saturday detention instead?” She pleaded.

Mr Johnson tossed his suit coat on his chair, rolled up his right sleeve, and picked up the paddle. “Your father agreed with me that a sharp shock is needed. Now in a minute, I will ask you to bend over. I need you to get right down on the desk; you can reach across and hold on. You may cry or scream, but do not jump up or reach back, until I tell you to get up. I only want to swat your bottom. Do you understand, Sarah?”

Tears were already forming in her eyes. “Yes sir.”

“Do you have anything in your back pockets?”

She shook her head ‘no’, but rubbed her hands over her pockets any way.

“Very well, bend over the desk.”

Sarah eased down on the desk; she pulled her long blonde pony-tail to one side and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her red cable-knit sweater, before grabbing the other side of the desk.

“Since this is your first visit with me, there will be four swats – unless you jump up or reach back, in which case you will receive extra. Ready?”

“I guess.” What else could she say? Sarah braced herself for what was to come.

Mark Johnson placed the paddle against her bottom, lining up for the first swat. She felt the board against her bottom and squeezed her eyes shut as the board moved. He brought the paddle back and swung hard. In a slight upward motion, the paddle contacted her bottom almost lifting her off the desk.

“WHACK!”

“Oooooooooh, plee-ease! Nooooo!” She cried as a second swat was on its way.

“POP!”

“Ooooooooh! No more please, Mr Johnson.” She begged, trying to wiggle away the pain. “I won’t smoke anymore!”

“Be quiet and be still, young lady! We’re half way,” the principal said sternly, adjusting his stance and preparing to swing the paddle again.

Sarah took a deep breath, closed her eyes tightly, and waited for the next blow. She didn’t have to wait long. The third swat came quickly.

“SMACK!”

“Eeeeeeeoooouch!” She screamed and grasped the desk. Mr Johnson saw her knuckles were white and smiled slightly as he lined up for the last smack.

Just as she was thinking: ‘maybe it’s over,’ the fourth swat came.

“THWHACK!” And she felt as if her bottom was on fire.

“Ooowwwoooowwww! Damn it! That thing hurts!” Sarah screamed, jumped up, and started rubbing her bottom, while jumping up and down.

“Get back over that desk, young lady!!”

“But that was four!”

“Don’t argue with me, girl. You get two extra swats for your language. Now unless you want more you will get back over that desk.” Mr Johnson pointed the paddle to the spot where he wanted Sarah.

“Mr Johnson, please, I’m so sorry, please no more,” the teary eyed girl pleaded for leniency. “I was just hurting so much.”

“Of course you hurt, this is a punishment. But that does not excuse bad language. Now bend over.”

Once again Sarah lowered herself onto the principal’s desk, only this time she was aware of the pain she was about to experience. Mr Johnson wasted no time in applying two more firm swats to her bottom. And again Sarah screamed but she did not swear.

“You may get up and take some tissue from the box on my desk,” Mr Johnson offered.

“Thank you, Sir,” Sarah replied reaching for the tissue with one hand, while rubbing her bottom with the other.

“Now, Miss Crane, I hope we don’t have to repeat this lesson on smoking. It’s against our rules, it’s bad for your health, and it could have started a fire in the school.”

“I’m very sorry, Sir. I won’t smoke anymore.”

“I’m glad to hear that. You may return to your last class now.”

“Yes sir.” Sarah stopped before going out the door. “Mr Johnson, I’m sorry about swearing, too.”

Mr Johnson gave a slight smile. “Apology accepted, Sarah. Now get to class.”

As Sarah walked slowly down the hall toward her classroom, she wondered what her new parents would say or do about her smoking. She had not really been in any real trouble since she was placed with Mr and Mrs Wilson four months ago. Hopefully they would just scold her or maybe restrict her activities for a short while.

‘Oh well, I guess I’ll find out in a couple of hours,’ she thought as she quietly entered the classroom.

End of Part 1

Part 2: Trouble at Home

Sarah entered the two-story brick home and started for her bedroom upstairs. Susanne Wilson, an attractive forty year old brunette, was coming downstairs with a basket full of dirty clothes. “Hey Sweetie, would you like a snack, before you tackle the books?”

“I guess so.” Sarah followed Mrs Wilson into the kitchen. “I did want to talk to you about something.”

“Go on and sit down. I’ll just be a few minutes; let me take these clothes down to the washer. Why don’t you put some water on for tea? And I baked cookies today. Help yourself.”

“Okay.”

Sarah started the tea kettle and took out two cups and two teabags and set them on the table. Then she brought the brown and blue teddy bear cookie jar to the table.

By the time Mrs Wilson returned from the laundry room, Sarah was pouring hot water into the teacups.

“Thank you, Sweetie. This will be a nice break.” Susanne sat across from Sarah, who was focused on stirring her tea. “Do you want chocolate chip or oatmeal raisin?” She asked, opening the cookie jar.

“Mmm. I like them both.”

“Then take one of each. Supper’s going to be a little late tonight.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Now, you said you wanted to talk about something.”

Sarah sipped her tea, before answering. “Yes ma’am, I’m just not sure how to, I mean, I’ve kept pretty much to myself since Family Services placed me here.”

“It takes time to get use to a new family. Tom and I know that. Losing your mom and dad in the car accident and then being shuffled through three foster homes before coming here is very stressful. That’s part of the reason Tim and I decided to adopt you, Sweetie.”

“Part?” Sarah questioned.

Mrs Wilson reached across the table and patted her daughter’s hand. “Yes, part; we knew you needed stability, a home and the security that brings. But the other and the most important reason is that we love you.”

“You love me? Or is it the money the agency pays you to be my parents?” Sarah didn’t realize how much her question hurt Susanne.

Susanne took a deep breath before answering. “Foster parents do get a small stipend from the state to help cover some of the expenses involved in taking a foster child. But Sarah, you are not a foster child anymore. We are in the process of adopting you. Parents do not get money from the state for adopting a child.” Sarah lowered her head. “We are hoping that in December you will want to be our daughter just as much as we want to be your parents.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Mrs Wilson smiled and nodded.

Then Sarah asked: “Why didn’t you and Mr Wilson have your own children?”

“Well, we weren’t able to; some medical problems. That’s why we joined the foster care program.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s fine. Tim and I have had a very fulfilling life helping foster children. We decided last year that we wanted to adopt. We had just finished our adoptive parenting classes when Family Services placed you with us.” Susanne Wilson picked up the teacups. “Would you like some more tea, Sarah?”

“No ma’am, thank you.” Sarah watched as her adoptive mother washed the teacups. “Mrs Wilson, can I ask you something else?”

“Certainly, dear. What is it?”

“Well, what would you and Mr Wilson do if I got in trouble at school?”

“I guess that would depend on what kind of trouble you were in. Why? Is this about what happened today?”

“You know already?!”

“I know you were caught smoking. I gave Mr Johnson Tim’s number at work.” Susanne sat next to Sarah. “So, do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I was smoking, got caught, and then I got paddled.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“It hurt a lot, but I shouldn’t have been smoking. What will you and Mr Wilson do?”

“Well, I’m sure there will be some sort of discipline. Tim and I will talk when he gets home. Then we’ll talk with you. Tell me, did your mother or father ever have to punish you?”

“Sometimes I had to stay in my room, or I lost privileges like television, phone calls, or going places with friends.”

“They never spanked you?”

“No ma’am. Are you or Mr Wilson going to spank me?”

“I don’t know yet, Sweetie. Like I said, Tim and I will have to talk first.”

Sarah was obviously nervous.

“I’m sorry you’re afraid. I guess you need a little more time to get to know and trust us as your parents.” Susanne stood and placed a kiss on Sarah’s forehead. “Why don’t you go on and get started on your homework. I’ll tell Tim we need to deal with this before supper.”

Sarah nodded and started to leave, but stopped in the doorway. “Mrs Wilson?”

“Yes, Dear.”

“Do you really want to be my mother?”

Susanne Wilson smiled and opened her arms out to Sarah, who found herself in a big hug.

“Oh, Sarah, Sweetie, I am your mother. I have been since July fifteenth, when this trial adoption started. I want you to start thinking of us as a family and that’s hard to do when you’re being so formal. I want you to think about calling us ‘momma and poppa’. We know ‘mom and dad’ is reserved for your birth parents, and Tim and I never want you to forget your parents. However, you have to start making an effort to accept us. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“Yes ma’am,” Sarah replied as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Thank you for wanting me.” The hug lasted for another minute, before Sarah pulled away. “I better get to my homework.”

Upstairs, Sarah busied herself with her school work. She had just closed her math book when she heard Mr Wilson’s cheerful: “Hi! I’m home.”

‘Guess I’ll find out what they decide in a little while,’ Sarah thought and she was right. About fifteen minutes later there was a knock on her door. “Come on in,” she said in a shaky voice.

Mr Wilson found his daughter sitting Indian style, reading a book, in the middle of her bed. “We need to talk, Sarah. However, we’re going to have a meeting of the minds first.” He said firmly. Then he pulled out the straight-backed, wooden chair from her desk. “Join me,” he commanded as he placed the chair facing the side of her bed.

“Why? What are you going to do?” She asked, studying the forty-two year old attorney, still in is suit and tie, with greying sideburns and wire-framed glasses. “I’m sorry I was smoking; I won’t do it again; I promise.” She slid to the edge of her bed.

“I’m glad to hear that. However, I spoke to Mr Johnson before I left my office and I was disappointed to hear that you used some profanity?” He placed his suit coat on the back of the chair and started to roll up his sleeves.

“Yes sir, but I was hurting. I’ve never even been spanked before; that was a big, wooden, paddle and it really hurt! I cursed and I’m sorry, and anyway Mr Johnson gave me two extra swats.”

Tim Wilson moved from the chair to sit next to Sarah on her big four-poster bed. He placed his arm around her and pulled her close. She had tears running down her face.

“Sarah, tell me, how would your mom and dad feel about you smoking and cursing?”

She shrugged her shoulders as she tried to compose herself.

“I don’t think they would approve, do you?”

Sarah shook her head ‘no’.

“Well, I’m your dad now and I don’t approve either. I’m also not pleased with the aloof attitude you’ve been displaying here at home.”

Sarah started twisting her long, blonde ponytail as she spoke. “Are you going to punish me?”

Sarah slid off her bed, but Mr Wilson took hold of her wrist.

“Susanne and I talked and we both feel you have learned your lesson about smoking. But I’m going to deal with your attitude and the cursing.”

Sarah pulled back from the portly gentleman now holding her wrist. “What do you mean deal with?”

Tim Wilson took a seat in the chair with Sarah standing in front of him. “Young lady, you are about to experience your first real spanking. I need you to take those jeans down.”

“No, I can’t! I won’t!” Sarah screamed and tried to pull away from this person who called himself her dad.

Tim Wilson tightened his hold on her wrist. She was now standing.

“I suggest you settle down and do as I say, before I decide you need a bare-bottom spanking.”

Shocked by his statement, Sarah immediately quit struggling. “You wouldn’t!!”

“Don’t try my patience. Get those blue-jeans down. NOW!”

“Yes sir.”

Sarah started fumbling with the button and zipper. In half a minute, the jeans were being shoved down her hips and sliding to her knees. She blushed, standing in front of Mr Wilson with just her thin panties covering her bottom. Even if he was her dad now, he was still a stranger in her mind.

Being left-handed, Tim Wilson guided her to his left side and started to explain. “I want you to understand why I’m spanking you.”

“I know why,” Sarah replied, wiping tears from her eyes. “The cursing.”

“Yes, and for secluding yourself up here in this room. Come across my lap.”

“Please don’t do this!” Sarah begged as she was guided over her father’s knees. He had her positioned so her toes just barely touched the floor. “Mr Wilson, please, I’ll be good, I won’t curse and I won’t stay in my room anymore.”

Ignoring her pleas, Tim Wilson started the spanking. Sarah was so petite that his large hand easily covered her bottom. He started, smacking her left cheek, then her right. She cried and kicked her legs. Her pale blue lacey panties gave little protection.

After the twelfth smack, she began to scream. “Please, Mr Wilson, please stop. No more.”

Instead of stopping, Mr Wilson slowed the pace and increased the intensity of each swat as he spoke.

“I – (smack) – do – (smack) – not – (swat) – want – (swat) – to – (pop) – hear – (pop) – of – (pop) – curs – (swat) – sing-(swat) –a – (pop) – gain! – (pop). Understand?” (smack)

Sarah was sobbing and breathing hard. “Yes sir, yes sir. I promise. Please no more!”

“Just one more thing, I want you to start being part our family. No more hiding in this room. No more sulking. Agree?”

Sarah nodded vigorously, “Yes sir.”

Mr Wilson applied six more very firm swats before letting Sarah up.

“I’m sorry. Oh, Mr Wilson, I’m really sorry.” She threw her arms around Mr Wilson’s neck.

“It’s okay, Honey, it’s over. We’re going to start fresh. Come on, get your jeans back up.” Tim suggested, trying not to embarrass his daughter.

She stood and quickly turned away while she carefully wiggled back into the well-fitting blue jeans.

“Now, come, sit and talk with me please.”

She obeyed, sitting on the bed across from the chair.

“Are you okay, Sarah?”

“No, I’m hurting a lot! This is my second spanking today. Oh, but you know that ‘cause you gave Mr Johnson permission to paddle me.”

“If you keep up that sarcasm, there’s going to be a third; and I will not be as lenient the next time.” Tim scolded his daughter.

Sarah responded quickly. “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful. I don’t want another spanking.”

“Then let’s talk nicely.”

Sarah nodded and he continued.

“I hope I see a change in your behavior and attitude at school and here at home. From my conversation with Mr Johnson, you have been inattentive and inconsistent in your classes. And while you’ve been very cooperative with Susanne and me about chores, you’ve done your best to avoid getting to know us, which makes it difficult for us to get to know you. Can you tell me why that is?”

“I guess I was nervous when I first came here. I didn’t fit into the foster homes they sent me to, so I decided to stay to myself and I figured I’d be better off if I kept to myself here as well.” Sarah explained as a few tears escaped her eyes.

Tim Wilson gently reached over, placed his left hand behind her neck and brushed some tears away with his thumb.

“You’re not in foster home now. Susanne and I want very much to adopt you. Provide you with love, support, and discipline; and hopefully help you get into a university in a year or two.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Sarah asked, wondering what Mr and Mrs Wilson were really like.

“For the same reason I just spanked you. You are our daughter; we love you and want the best for you; however because we love you, we will not accept rude or disrespectful behavior.”

“I guess cursing is disrespectful.”

“It is, and if I hear of you cursing again you can expect a bare-bottom spanking and five or six strokes from my belt. Understand, young lady?”

“Yes sir, I’ll be careful.”

“Now, as far as being part of the family…”

“You don’t need to say anything. I, uh, I want to spend more time getting to know you and Mrs Wilson. I want to be your daughter, if you really want me?”

“We wouldn’t have started official adoption proceedings if we didn’t want you.”

Tim Wilson put an arm around Sarah and pulled her close. He felt her tense.

“Relax, Sweetie, I just want to give you a hug.”

Sarah relaxed and returned the hug. “My mom and dad didn’t hug me very much, but I think I’m starting to like it.”

“Sarah, I know you haven’t really accepted us as your parents.”

“I’m trying, but I don’t want to forget my real parents.”

“We understand that, and you won’t. You will never forget them, Princess. May I call you ‘Princess’?”

“I guess so. Why?” She asked pulling away from his hug.

“Because you are a beautiful young lady, Sarah, and you’re my daughter. I want to have a special name for you.”

“Thank you. I really want to be part of your family.”

“Even though I spanked you?”

Sarah nodded and gave a little smile.

“Oh, Sarah, I want to see you smile more.”

“Oh, Poppa, thank you. You and Momma have both been so nice and good to me.” Tears started flowing again. “Would you hold me again? Please, Poppa?”

Father and daughter embraced each other, hoping there would be no more spankings, but each knew differently.

The End


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