After over twenty years teaching high school, you’d think I’d seen everything and dealt with everything that students could throw at me. Then, last semester two girls in my eleventh grade home room class decided their slight antagonism to each other would escalate into an outright fight. In truth, I don’t know how it all started. All I got was a notification that two of my students were involved in physical confrontation, that it was considered serious, and that I was to report with them to Mr Carter, one of the vice-principals at 2.00 pm.
Now part of my responsibilities as home room teacher was to notify parents when their offspring had been involved in anything the school considered serious and that would usually include referrals to a vice-principal. The idea was to get parental support for any punishment that might be awarded. I’d done that a few times before, so no problem there. Only rarely did a parent argue, and that could usually be overcome by offering for them to be present during the referral.
However, one of the two girls involved, Beverley Nicholls, was my next door neighbor, and her mother had become my best friend. That might make things awkward.
The other girl, Harriet Vincento, could be a bit of a drama queen, and I knew her mother sometimes struggled to control her. Harriet also regarded herself as one of the cool girls of higher status compared to her peers. While Harriet never gave me too much trouble as a teacher, she always somehow managed to make me feel inadequate. Feeling Mrs Vincento might be the easier to deal with, I checked her number on my computer, pulled out my cellphone and dialed.
“Mrs Vincento? This is Jeni Moorway, I’m Harriet’s home room teacher. Not a big problem, but Harriet has been fighting with another girl and I have to take them both to see the vice-principal, Mr Carter at 2.00 pm.”
“Oh no,” came the reply. “That girl just can’t keep herself out of trouble.”
“Yes, we spoke briefly about that at the last parent-teacher meeting.”
“So, what do you need from me?”
“It’s customary for the school to consult with parents when something like this occurs, Mrs Vincento. Do you have any thoughts on what punishment should be awarded?”
“Who started the fight?”
“From what I hear, it was pretty much equal.”
“Okay, so do whatever you have to.”
“Suppose Mr Carter were to suggest paddling Harriet?”
“I don’t know. I guess Harriet is old enough to deal with this herself. She’d probably ignore anything I said anyhow.”
“So, we could paddle her, if that was thought to be the best way of dealing with it?”
“Sure. Why not? Maybe a spanking will do her some good. Can’t do her any harm, except for her butt.” I heard Mrs Vincento chuckle.
“Okay, thank you Mrs Vincento.”
Next, what might be the trickier phone call. To Beverley’s mom. She would be at work, so I checked her number and dialed.
“Mary? Hi, Mary. It’s Jeni. How’re you doing?”
“Jeni, you don’t usually phone me at work. What’s happened?” I could hear the panic in her voice.
“Sorry, Mary. It’s just, there’s been a bit of a problem with Beverley getting into a fight with another girl.”
“Oh my god! Is Beverley hurt?”
“No, nothing like that. They just sprawled around on the ground a bit before they got separated. I’m phoning you to talk over how you might want us to deal with it.”
“In what way? You said they’d been separated.”
“Yes, but fighting is one of those cardinal sins that the school really jumps on.”
“You’re suspending her?”
“That could be an option, although I think Mr Carter, the vice-principal dealing with the matter, is more thinking Saturday detention or swats. I’m just phoning to see if you have any preferences on how Beverley is dealt with.”
“Oh. Let me think. I don’t know, Jeni. What do you think? You’ve known Beverley all her life.”
“Being that I’m her home room teacher, maybe I shouldn’t sway things to one way or another. Look, I’ll be with Beverley when she sees Mr Carter. Shall we see how that goes? I can have a talk with her as well, see what her thinking is.”
“That sounds good.”
“But if the consensus is for Beverley to take a spanking, you are okay with that, are you?”
“I guess. I mean, I’ve never spanked Beverley, never had the need to. Will she be okay?”
“Like I said, Mary, I’ll be with her all the way. I won’t let anything bad happen to her.”
“Thanks, Jeni.”
“Thanks, Mary.”
The phone calls made, it was time for lunch.
When I arrived in the dining hall, it was less than half full, most students having consumed a quick meal and left to talk privately with friends, catch up on writing notes, or whatever they wanted to do before afternoon classes began. I chose a light salad and orange juice.
“Ms Moorway, may I speak with you?”
I looked up into Beverley Nicholls’ pretty face.
“Sure, sit down. And hey, we’re alone, call me Jeni.”
“Thanks, Jeni. I’m afraid I’m in trouble, real trouble,” Beverley said as she sat down beside me.
“So I heard. I got a message from Mr Carter. Apparently, you, me and Harriet are down to report to his office at 2.00 pm.”
“That’s right. I’m really not looking forward to that! What do you think will happen?”
“I don’t know. I guess you’ll both get the reprimands of your life, for starters. And there will be a punishment.”
Beverley frowned. “Yes, I guess that’s inevitable. Any idea what it will be?”
I swallowed a mouthful of orange juice to play for time. “I don’t know. I haven’t discussed that with Mr Carter. Have you had any thoughts?”
“Hundreds! I guess we’re too old for, like writing lines or something? So, I’m thinking suspension or maybe Saturday detention. I’m not sure what else there is.”
I shrugged. Should I put the idea to her of another option? I’d never have a better opportunity.
“Um, I guess there is one other possibility. I’m not sure how you’d feel about it, but Mr Carter could decide to paddle you.”
“What! Are you serious? I mean, Harriet and me, we’re both seventeen.”
“Check the student handbook, Beverley. Fighting is one of the several offenses considered sufficiently serious to warrant paddling, if the school principal or a vice principal so chooses. It can be mandatory, although mostly you’re given a choice between that and something else.”
“That ‘something else’ being Saturday detention? Surely he wouldn’t automatically paddle us over this little tussle, would he?”
“I guess it depends on how the person who reported you described it. There’s really zero tolerance with fighting.”
That got Beverley thinking.
“You want coffee, or juice?” I asked, when it was obvious Beverley wasn’t going to answer.
“Orange juice, please.”
I got up and bought two fresh glasses of juice and returned to Beverley.
“So, if it’s the paddle, how are you going to feel about that?”
I guess Beverley must have had a dry mouth, because she drank half the glass in one gulp.
“I don’t know,” she eventually answered. “I mean, if there was no other option then I’d just have to take it, wouldn’t I? Is there no chance he might allow us, or me at least, to serve a Saturday detention?”
“He might, and if he didn’t you could always ask.”
Beverley seemed appreciative of a possible get-out option.
“You don’t think it might be better to take the licks and get it over with?” I asked.
“Maybe,” she answered quickly. “I don’t know what mom would say, though. Maybe she wouldn’t allow it.”
“Like I said, for fighting, the school can make it a mandatory paddling. I have, by the way, called your mom and she would be okay with it.”
“Really? She said that? I’m surprised.”
At that point, my cellphone buzzed to remind me of my meeting with Mr Carter.
I cancelled the reminder and said, “It’s 1.55 pm, we need to get to Mr Carter’s office.”
In the hallway outside his office, we found Harriet Vincento already there, leaning against the wall.
“You’re early, Harriet. Good policy, I guess,” I greeted her.
She half-smiled in return.
“Look girls, I don’t know how this is going to pan out, but you really do need to, maybe not be friends, but be able to work in the same classes and tolerate each other.”
Both girls looked down at the ground, neither actually answering me.
“Is that at all possible?”
Still no response. I gave up.
“Let’s see if Mr Carter is ready for us.” I knocked, opened the door part way and peered inside.
Mr Carter looked up from his desk.
“Are you ready for us, Douglas?”
“I guess. Bring them in.”
I opened the door wide and said, “Okay girls, in you come.”
Beverley allowed Harriet to lead the way, then both girls stood in front of Mr Carter’s desk, side by side, but about four feet apart. I went round behind the desk and stood by Mr Carter’s side. I’m not sure why I did that, maybe I just wanted to separate myself from the guilty parties.
“Ms Vincento, Ms Nicholls, you know why you’re here. This school has a zero-tolerance view of fighting and aggressive contact. You were both fighting and had to be separated by members of staff. It seems to me to be an open and shut case. Anyone want to disagree with that?”
Both girls looked down at the floor.
“I have ears, ladies!” Mr Carter said. “Let me hear your response to the allegation. Is my summary of the event correct?”
“Yes, sir,” both murmured.
“So, that sounds to me like an automatic five swats or four hours of Saturday detention. Anyone want to argue?”
“No, sir,” Harriet replied, almost in a whisper.
Beverley paused. She looked at me, and I met her gaze while trying to look back noncommittally.
“Ms Nicholls?” Mr Carter prompted her. “Do those two options seem fair to you?”
“I guess, sir,” came the muted response.
“Good! Then you can just let me know your preference and we can move on. What do you say, ladies?”
I could see both thinking fast, trying to weigh up the implications, and working out what they felt would be best for them. I looked down over Douglas Carter’s shoulder, not wanting any facial expression I had to influence them.
“Sir,” Harriet began. “Sir, I’d like to apologize for my part in this altercation, and I’d like to take the five swats, sir.”
Wow! That surprised me. Harriet gave me a quick look and then went back to focusing on the floor.
“Ms Nicholls, what do you want to do?” Mr Carter turned to Harriet’s antagonist, not giving any clue as to his feelings about what Harriet had decided.
I could see Beverley was struggling to come up with an answer. I nodded to her by way of encouragement, at least that’s what I think I meant, but maybe she misunderstood.
“Okay, yes. Yes, sir, I’ll accept the paddle too, sir.” As she looked up to meet Mr Carter’s eyes, she added, “And I’d also like to apologize for my part in this incident, and to Harriet for my part in the occurrence.”
Harriet looked up, surprised, but turned to Beverley and said, “Yes, sorry Beverley.”
Wow! That was the friendliest those two had been all semester.
“Okay, ladies. Now, that gives us a little problem because I have a strained arm.” To prove it, Douglas pulled his right shirt cuff back and revealed the first couple of inches of bandage wrapped around his arm. “That means I am unable to deal with you today, and I’ll need to find someone to stand in for me. Meanwhile, please return to your usual schedule and you’ll be called at some time this afternoon. Go.”
Both of them seemed content to get out of that office with their butts unharmed, at least for the time being. I lingered behind.
“What have you been up to, Douglas?” I asked. “To injure your arm, I mean.”
“I forgot a door was locked when I tried to wrench it open yesterday; strained my arm.” He pulled his shirt sleeve back to show me more of the bandage. “For the next few days I have to wear this darn bandage and not use my right arm more than I have to.”
“So what about those two? I’ve never seen them agreeing on anything. Now they’re both set to take spankings, I don’t think it should be put off for too long.”
“I agree. Any ideas on who to do it? I’d normally call on Janice Spink to stand in for me, but she’s away until next week.”
“I don’t think this can wait until then,” I replied, screwing up my face and pretending I was giving the problem some serious thought. “Hey, I could do it. I’m their home room teacher, so they know me.”
Pretending? Well, I saw an opportunity to personally take Harriet Vincento down a peg or two. That might do the two of us some good. As for Beverley? Maybe she’d be happier getting spanked by me rather than some acid-faced spinster or a huge football coach. I didn’t see her as a problem.
“Have you paddled students before, Jeni?”
“Occasionally, yes. I do have a paddle in my desk drawer.”
It was Douglas’s turn to think.
“Okay, you spank them, I’ll witness. Shall we call them back now?”
“They’ll have just started gym class. Let them have twenty minutes of exercise, then I’ll go fetch them.”
Douglas smiled, like he was cottoning on to my little plan. “And I guess you’ll bring them straight here without giving them time to change out of their gym wear?”
I felt myself blush, but I played along anyway. “I’m probably not as strong as you, Douglas. Them wearing thin gym shorts will only make up for that.”
He chuckled. “Okay, well, I’m not going anywhere. Bring them along when you’re ready.”
I went back to my classroom, which was empty at that time, and sat down behind my desk. The girls’ gym class would last an hour and twenty minutes. It could only have been ten minutes at most since they’d left the VP’s office. Time for a quick coffee. The dining hall was almost deserted, with the staff still clearing up after lunch. My charming demeanor coaxed a coffee out of them and I sat and drank it; slowly. I sensed the kitchen staff moving around, cleaning tables, and exchanging whispered comments about what I was doing there, but I didn’t hear what was said.
I drank my coffee slowly, and accepted a refill when offered. By that time, the girls would be over half an hour into their gym class. Time to get moving. The gymnasium was a five minute walk towards the other end of the main school building. I looked through the glass panel of the door and saw Harriet and Beverley on opposite sides doing different set exercises. The gym teacher, Susanna Harpenter, was strolling around supervising until she saw me at the door.
“Hey Jeni,” she said, opening the door.
“Hey.”
“You’ve come for Harriet Vincento and Beverley Nicholls?”
“They told you?”
“Yes, said they wouldn’t be here for the whole class. Who’s going to paddle them? I heard Doug Carter hurt his arm.”
“Yes, I’m going to do it, and Douglas is going to witness.”
“Well, give it to them good,” Susanna replied with a grin. She turned and called out, “Harriet! Beverley! You’re needed. Now!”
Both girls stopped what they were doing, saw me and came slowly over. I saw Harriet wearing sparkling white very short shorts and a white T-shirt, while Beverley wore thin gray shorts and a blue top.
“Come along,” I said, smiling to Susanna.
“Shouldn’t we get changed first?” Harriet asked.
“No need,” I replied brightly. “This won’t take long. You might have time to finish your gym class.”
“Who’s going to do it?” Beverley asked as we walked together along the corridor.
“Does it matter?” I responded.
I could see from their expressions that alarmed both girls, so I added, “Actually, I’m going to do it, with Mr Carter as witness. Is that okay?”
No reaction.
No more was said until we reached Mr Carter’s office and I knocked on the door.
“Oh god,” Beverley whispered very quietly.
“Come in!” came the gruff call.
I opened the door and let the two girls file past me. They stood anxiously at the front of Douglas Carter’s large desk, both staring at the wooden paddle lying on the polished surface.
“Okay, ladies. Ms Moorway has agreed to help me out by giving you both your spankings. I’ll be witnessing. Any questions?”
Neither girl replied, both giving slight shakes of their heads.
“Okay, over to you, Ms Moorway. You need to do them one at a time. They should not be witness to the other being paddled.”
“Oh, right.” I hadn’t thought of that. In class, if two needed to be paddled then I’d do them together. “Beverley, would you wait outside, please?”
Beverley turned away and left the room, not giving any sign of her feelings about having to wait. When the door closed, I picked up the paddle from Mr Carter’s desk and weighed it up. It was a typical school paddle, about twenty inches long, one end having been tapered down to form a handle maybe seven inches long. It was approximately four inches wide, half an inch thick, and made of a pale wood, maybe hickory. It felt a little heavier than my own paddle that I occasionally used in classes.
As Mr Carter remained seated behind his desk, I turned Harriet around by her shoulders so her back was three-quarters towards the VP.
“Bend over and grip your shins, Harriet.”
She bent over, and only then did I realize she was standing too close to the desk for me to swing the paddle and avoid hitting the desk.
“Actually, Harriet,” I quickly added. “Could you shuffle forward about four feet?”
Dammit! I felt she’d somehow gotten one over me again.
Maybe she realized what the problem was because she straightened, took three steps forward and bent over again. That gave me the space I needed. I looked at her white shorts, now stretched tight across her well-rounded backside, and noticed the sure sign of a panty line, but one that still allowed for the lower parts of her buttocks to be covered only by the shorts.
I touched the seat of Harriet’s shorts with the paddle and moved it around a bit in a circular motion. I mean, I just wanted to warn her the scorching of her buttocks was about to begin, right? I wasn’t trying to torment her or anything. Then, pow! I slammed that paddle across her backside. She jerked and muttered something under her breath, but she stayed there bent over, simply waiting for me to spank her again.
I obliged, aiming again for the lower part of Harriet’s cute bottom. She would not relish sitting down for a couple of hours! I got much the same reaction; a jerk, a mumble, and a slight adjustment to present her backside for the next spank.
I lined up Harriet’s third whack and contemplated hitting harder, but chose not to. I meant to spank her, not harm her. I swung the paddle and heard the sound echo slightly around the room. Harriet reacted much the same again, and calmly waited for the next strike.
Aiming a little higher, I spanked her again with a firm application of the paddle against the seat of her tightly stretched shorts. She jerked a fraction more noticeably, maybe grunted a little louder. But she kept her position. Was she trying to tell me I wasn’t having much effect on her? It seemed that way.
Conscious of Douglas Carter sitting in his chair and watching me, I applied the final spank down low again. Harriet’s reaction didn’t waver in any real way, but she remained bent over, even though she’d had her five licks.
“Okay Harriet, you’re done,” were my words to her.
Slowly, she straightened up, gave the seat of her little shorts a brief rub, and turned.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Y’all make sure we don’t have to do this again any time soon,” was how I dismissed her.
“Should I send Beverley in, ma’am?” Harriet asked, now halfway to the door.
Wow! Was she being polite?
“No, I’ll need a couple of minutes, thank you Harriet.”
“Okay. Thank you, ma’am.”
With another quick rub of the seat of her shorts, Harriet left the room.
“Good job there, Jeni,” Douglas said as I took a couple of deep breaths.
I was playing for time. It was one thing to paddle a girl from my home room, nothing more, but now I had to deal with a girl who I’d known for years, was a neighbor, and the daughter of my best friend. It felt like a different dynamic.
“She’s just another student who has to be punished,” Douglas suddenly said, like he was reading my mind.
He was of course correct. I left the paddle on his desk and went to fetch Beverley.
“In you come, Beverley,” I said as I held the door open.
I could see Beverley practically shaking from nerves as she passed me. I put an arm around her shoulders and led her closer to the desk. There was so much I wanted to say to her, this girl I’d often babysat for, been on trips out with, helped with homework and growing-up stuff, but I couldn’t actually verbalize. I’d never had to spank Beverley, either as a teacher or a babysitter, although her mom always said I could if it was ever necessary. It never was.
“I have to do this, Beverley,” was all I could come up with to say. Was I saying it for her benefit or mine?
Anyway, I used both hands on her shoulders to position her in a similar location to where Harriet had finally been, again with Beverley’s rear three-quarters towards Douglas. Like with Harriet, he’d be able to see Beverley’s backside and one side of her face. As I did it, Beverley was looking all the time over her shoulder at the paddle on the desk.
“Is it going to hurt?” Beverley whispered, as a single tear rolled down her pretty cheek.
“It’s going to hurt some,” I replied honestly. “That’s the nature of the punishment. But hey, in a couple of minutes it’ll all be over.”
Beverley nodded. Maybe my answer enabled her in some way to prepare herself for what she saw as her worst nightmare. I don’t know. I picked the paddle up from the desk, Beverley still watching my every move.
“Okay Beverley, bend over and grab your shins.”
She did as I asked, grabbing her legs just below the knees. Her thin gray shorts stretched across her slim bottom, but not enough for my liking.
“Try and grab your shins lower down close to your ankles, please Beverley.”
She immediately complied, making her backside stick out more and stretching the thin gray material much more tightly across her buttocks. I couldn’t see any pantyline, so likely she wasn’t wearing underwear under the shorts. Some girls didn’t for gym class.
“That’s fine, Beverley,” I complemented her. “Now, just hold that position. Okay?”
“Okay,” came a murmured response.
I picked up the paddle and got myself in position behind Beverley and to her left.
“Ready?” I asked.
“I guess,” in a whisper.
I twice tapped the paddle against the seat of Beverley’s stretched shorts and slammed it down hard. The sound resembled a pistol shot as it resounded around the room. Beverley half stood up and grabbed her buttocks with both hands. I allowed her to rub her backside for a couple of minutes.
I guess at some point she realized she’d gone against my instruction to hold still, because she apologized with, “Sorry, ma’am.”
“That’s okay, Beverley. The punishment is the spanking, not how long it takes.”
Beverley nodded frenetically and bent back down. She somehow became a little skewed, so I gripped her hips with the paddle and my free hand and guided her back to a square-on position.
Before she could move again, I hastily applied the second spank. She reacted by again half standing and furiously rubbing her rear.
“Sorry, ma’am,” she said after about twenty seconds, before bending back down.
“It’s okay. It hurts,” was my rather dumb reply.
I could see Beverley slightly swaying at the hips, but I swung the paddle and was able to get a good sound spank on target. This time, Beverley stood bolt upright as she massaged what must have been a sore backside by now.
For the moment, I just allowed Beverley the time. I could see Douglas grinning as he watched my efforts to complete the punishment. It didn’t help. As I waited for Beverley to bend back over, I considered applying the final two spanks in very rapid succession. That would really smart, but at least it would be over for Beverley. Easy option!
“Beverley, I can apply the final two together, very quickly, and get it over for you. Would you want that?”
She looked round over her shoulder. Her face was tear-stained all over.
“No, thank you ma’am. I’ll take them as you’d normally do it, please.”
“Okay.”
A few seconds later, Beverley bent down again and stuck her butt out for me. I waited, and Beverley kept very still. Then I slammed the paddle across her backside, a little lower than I intended, right on the area she’d sit on.
Surprisingly, Beverley stayed down this time, despite a little swaying of the hips. I paused to allow her time to compose herself, although in truth it didn’t appear she needed it.
Finally, I spanked her fairly hard across the center of her backside.
“Oww!” Beverley exclaimed, still remaining bent over.
“Okay, you’re done,” I told her, and she straightened up.
Douglas placed a carton of tissues on his desk and I grabbed a handful which I passed to Beverley. She took several minutes to wipe her face, blow her nose, and generally get her act together. Meanwhile, I returned the paddle to Douglas’s desk.
“I’ll complete the computer records, if you like, Jeni,” he offered.
“Thanks, Douglas,” I said as I put my arm around Beverley’s shoulder and led her from the room. I decided to take her in the direction of our home room.
“Do you want a pass for your gym class, Beverley? There’s barely fifteen minutes left.”
“No, thanks, ma’am. I’d like to get back to the other girls, if that’s okay?”
“No problem. Do you want a ride home after school? Maybe avoid the school bus?”
“Um, no, that’s also fine, ma’am.”
I continued the rest of my school day, and only saw Harriet and Beverley for the final ten minutes in our home room.
I decided to do a little shopping on my way home, so it was getting close to 6.00 pm when I pulled onto my drive. Beverley’s mom, Mary, came up to me as I unloaded my car.
“Need a hand?”
Mary helped me unload and then take my shopping into my house.
“How’s Beverley?” I asked.
She laughed. “You’ll never believe this.”
“Try me.”
“She came home arm-in-arm with Harriet Vincento. They went up to Beverley’s room and, by the sound of it, they were checking each other’s butts for what you’d done spanking them. And then they were off to Harriet’s place for a swim in their large pool. It’s like they’re now the best of friends!”
The End
© Carol Christensen 2025