At 16 for a short period in my life I turned into an absolute horror. For some reason my father had been seconded to a place in America in one of the southern states. He was due to go there for a year, so the family, which was basically me and my mother, were required to tag along whether we liked it or not. My mother considered it something of an adventure but I felt differently because it dragged me away from my friends and especially my boyfriend with whom I had become close over the previous few months.

I could not understand why they would not just let me stay with my grandparents so that I could continue at school, and keep my social life and especially my boyfriend. There were countless rows, and bad feeling in abundance. Basically, I became an antisocial individual who needed to be pulled up for her behaviour. In any other household at the time I might well have expected to spend some considerable time over one knee or another but that didn’t happen in our house. It never had.

I found it hard to settle in America, quite probably because of my attitude and the fact that I found myself in a strange country where I did not want to be, missing my friends, missing my home, missing my grandparents, and most of all missing my boyfriend whom I was not sure would wait for me. Yes, there are other boys including some quite nice ones in my new school but I did not feel as if I wanted to go out with any of them because it would feel like cheating on Bob.

In the end, I did go out with one of them, Steve, who seemed like a nice boy and we had a very good evening until he made it clear what his plans were for the rest of the evening. It turned out that two or three of them had got a hankering to bed the English girl as we English girls at the time apparently were considered to be easy pickings. Not so with me, I’m happy to say, so from then on, I left the boys alone and made sure they left me alone too.

Family relations did not improve much either. I was forever moaning and asking to be sent back home or asking how long it would be before we got home. I was driving my mother mad with this and I could see in her eyes that our relationship was falling apart and the dreadful thing was that I didn’t want to do anything about it. I blamed them for everything. I was inconsolable, bitter, and a complete nightmare to live with.

When I look back at that period now it is perfectly clear to me what I needed was a short sharp shock, as they say, to break me out of that mood, that depression, to bring me back to the land of the living and the realistic, and the accepting, and the old self which really wasn’t too bad.

Mrs Fernandez was a strict but kindly teacher whom I really would have liked if ever I could remove the cloud that had enveloped me since the first announcement of our move to America. She had put up with a lot of awkwardness from me, semi rudeness, poor attention, not really seeming to be bothered. She had given me more than enough time to settle in, probably more than she would ever have allowed for her American students. Like with my mother, I think I had been stretching her tether just about as far as it would go.

One afternoon, I was deep in a daydream thinking about that boy I had been forced to leave at home and the things we did together. I was looking out of the window and then turned to find Mrs Fernandez standing by my desk. I issued an expletive in response and in surprise. It did not go down well.

“I have asked you that question three times now, Sarah, and it really seems you’re not listening and you don’t care. And now you have sworn at me as well, just to make matters worse. I have given you as much latitude and a chance to settle in as I think is reasonable, now my patience and the patience of this class, has worn thin. I think we need to go into the corridor now Sarah and discuss your behaviour.”

I was stunned, my time had come, but it was not as if I had not deserved it. I had seen quite a few boys and as many girls go into the corridor with Mrs Fernandez to discuss their behaviour. The boys had come back looking brave but walking stiffly, some of the girls had tried the same, but a few of them had come back in with tears in their eyes and one of them, by way of making an impression, actually came back in holding her bottom as she walked. That caused some amusement amongst the other students, which of course was her intention. When Mrs Fernandez saw what she was doing, she was invited back outside briefly but long enough for her attitude to be adjusted so that she came back the next time after the loud crack of the extra swat, rubbing her eyes.

“So, Sarah, go into the corridor and wait for me there. Class, please carry on reading through the papers and we will continue when things outside are dealt with.”

Mrs Fernandez collected her paddle and joined me in the corridor. The paddle was about 2 foot long plus the handle, maybe 4 inches wide and anything up to quarter to half an inch thick. Close to, it looked as if it could hurt, as of course it was meant to, and I guess given the way I had behaved, and given the rules of the school and the state, there was a very little chance of my avoiding the fate that awaited me.

“Now Sarah, I think I have been very fair with you. I have given you plenty of time to settle in but you show no sign of really doing so or making a serious contribution to the class or the school, I know you didn’t choose to be here but like all of us you have to adapt to your circumstances and surroundings. As you know, I am also deputy principal of the school, it is always my duty to spank the girls whether in my class or any of the others. Mr Jackson deals with the boys.

“This is your first spanking at the school, did you get spanked at school in the UK, does your mother spank you?”

“No miss, I have never had it before.”

“Perhaps that is a shame, maybe we wouldn’t have come to this if you had received a bit more discipline during your upbringing, but I am not intending to judge. Now it is my job to provide you with your first spanking.”

“Yes, Miss, I’m sorry.”

“So there’s two ways we do this, the first is as a warning. What I will do is give you three licks, medium hard that will hurt and I hope will make you think about your behaviour so that we never have to do it again. If we have to do it again then you will get more licks and very much harder, so bear that in mind if, for some stupid reason, you decide not to improve your attitude. Do you understand Sarah?”

“Yes, Miss, I understand.“

It seemed the warning was a reasonable compromise. In my normal mood of the time, I would have objected, but the threat of very much harder did not appeal. For some reason I was just going along with the whole process; maybe I knew I needed it.

“Okay Sarah, what I want you to do is take your jacket off and put it over that chair in the corner, and take anything out of your back pockets. If you want a witness, then you can knock on Mr Jones’ door and ask him to do it, otherwise I want you to put your hands on your knees and bend over pushing your butt out in my direction.”

I declined the offer of a witness; I just wanted it to be over quickly with a minimum of fuss. Mrs Fernandez pulled my jeans up tight then I felt the paddle smoothing across my bottom. It moved and the next I knew it had returned with substantial force against the back of my jeans with a sting like I had not known before. The corridor echoed with the crack of the paddle against my buttocks. I gasped but resisted the urge to cry out in pain. What a pathetic specimen I would have been to react so badly to just a moderately hard first hit. There was no real privacy in this, even though it was only myself and Mrs Fernandez. I felt that the whole school could hear the English girl’s first spanking.

The second lick arrived with more pain, the crack, the anguish as the sting bit into my tender cheeks. I groaned; I wanted to cry out again, but knew that impulse must be resisted; what would my fellow students think of me if I made a fuss? They hated me anyway with good reason and I would be ridiculed for ever for crying out. For the first time it seemed to really matter what they thought. Was that a part of my assimilation, of my becoming a part of the community which I had so vehemently rejected? I think maybe Mrs Fernandez was spanking me on behalf of all of them.

The third stroke, landing on my burning bottom was high on the agenda for crying out; it was aimed low and hard, much harder than the other two, so much so that it maybe drifted out of the moderate category. I nearly lost my balance. 0nce again I managed to hold back from filling the corridor echo chamber with a cry or a curse, but the tears in my eyes defied my resolve. I was genuinely hurting and Mrs Fernandez knew that I was hurting. She had made sure that I would.

I stood up slowly, trying so hard to resist the temptation to hold my bottom, but I failed.

“So it’s the first time that English bottom of yours has suffered a spanking? I can guarantee you most of the American butts around here have had a good deal more than one, including mine, I must say. Now it’s your job, Sarah, to make sure from now on we see the real Sarah, that sweet Sarah inside of you, and that English bottom of yours will be able to stay out of trouble.”

I accepted her hand to shake and the tissue she took her out of her pocket. I walked stiffly back to my seat in the classroom, all eyes upon me, some sympathetic, some amused. I sat down with an audible grown as my bottom was so sore; exactly as was intended.

For some reason that was a new beginning for me, maybe an initiation, maybe even a rite of passage, but it certainly brought me back to earth. It could have gone either way; I might have become even more bitter and twisted, but thankfully I just came to my senses and realised my attitude was only hurting me. I began to make friends, I even found a boy to go out with, who showed me some respect as compared with the poor choice I had made earlier. My parents saw the change in me and wondered how that had suddenly happened. My mother actually found out that I had been paddled from one of the other parents and I had to confess. She immediately attributed my improved demeanour to the paddling I’d received and threatened, jokingly, to go out and get herself a paddle to keep her greatly improved daughter in line.

All was well for several weeks, but then trouble came searching, even though I had promised myself not to expose my bottom to such treatment again and I did my very best to keep that promise.

The morning following my dental appointment, I arrived to find out my three friends whom I had been with the previous lunchtime, sharing beers and smokes in the park, before climbing back over the wall so that we would not be noticed coming back late, had all been summoned to Mrs Fernandez’s office in her capacity as vice principal, where they had each received five licks of the judicial paddle reserved for serious disciplinary offences. They had been offered suspensions in lieu of corporal punishment, but they had all taken the paddle on the basis that their parents would have found out and their backsides would not have been worth sitting on anyway.

They insisted that my image did not appear on the CCTV they were shown, so I was in the clear and need not worry about it. They thought I would have been out of my mind to confess and that none of them would have owned up if they did not have to. I was heavily distracted during the first lesson. Twice Mrs Fernandez had to pull me up for not paying attention, warning me that I would have to see her in the corridor if she had to tell me again.

By break, my mind was made up, if it hadn’t been from the start. I confessed to Mrs. Fernandez and she told me to go to her office at lunchtime. When I got there the punishment paddle I had heard about was lying on the desk. It was drilled with substantial holes to allow air to pass through so that it could move more quickly through the air and thus strike the student’s buttocks harder, substantially increasing the sting. To compensate for the holes in the surface area it was carved thicker than the class paddle so that bruising would act as a reminder for a couple of days at least. My friends had all received attention from the implement even before the latest infraction and described how much it hurt and how long the bruising took to fade. I was scared but determined.

“I am really disappointed in you Sarah, but I am not so very surprised. You’ve made such a big effort to mix in since our chat in the corridor and the friends you have made are not bad girls, just naughty ones. I have had to spank them several times. They thought they could get away with flaunting the regulations and their butts paid the price. Given that they broke several regulations all at once, I could have given them more than five, but five at one sitting is enough, more would be cruel. I appreciate that you have owned up when technically you did not need to, but your conscience got the better of you and that is a really good thing, though on this occasion with painful consequences. The punishment for truanting and drinking in school hours is quite clear. You have the option of a suspension but I am almost certain that you yourself could not accept any punishment different from the other girls, your friends. They went home with very sore butts last night after a hard spanking and you will be going home with the same tonight.”

For a brief moment I considered the suspension, especially as I would soon be going back home to the UK. The sight of the paddle and the box of tissues on the right of the desk was a little off-putting to say the least, but I am thankful my determination held.

“You’ve said it all really Miss, I simply have to have the same punishment as the other girls, or I would never forgive myself even if they do.”

“Well, Sarah, like I said before this is really going to hurt as is intended. You will have to be brave, and not try to stand up or cover yourself. If you do, you’ll have five seconds to get back down over the desk, or you will have the choice of an extra lick or the suspension. Now I want you to put this cushion in front of your hips because this paddle will push you forward into the desk, and I don’t want you hurt. Then bend over the desk, hold the far edge and stick your butt, sorry bottom, right out so I’ve got a really good target.”

As before, she pulled my jeans up tight and then I felt the wood measuring my backside before striking. I couldn’t believe the sting from even just the first stroke of that paddle, it was so much worse than the class paddle she used on me before, and applied with more force. The second was much worse still. I had no idea how I was going to endure that punishment. After the third stroke I stood up, my hands rushed to my buttocks. I squeezed them but it did no good, they were too far gone into the world of pain. Fortunately, realising quickly that there was no way I could take three more ‘licks’ I bent over again although not entirely to Mrs Fernandez’s satisfaction.

“Push that butt right out for me, Sarah. No more getting up; you’ve got two more and we’ll get this over with.”

She did not make me have to wait and delivered the last two strokes in fairly quick succession. They were harder and a bit lower than the others which meant at the end, I was in more pain than I could ever have imagined. I did not rush to soothe my bottom, I just lay across the desk sniffing. I wondered if the other girls had cried or had they all been so much braver than me. For them, it wasn’t the first time with that particular implement of torture but I doubted you could ever get hardened to it. Eventually, I found a way of rising to my feet.

I remembered how Mrs Fernandez gave me a tissue after my first spanking. She gave me several tissues after that one, causing me an awkward choice of whether to take my hands off my bottom to accept the tissues.

“I’m sorry I had to do that, Sarah, but regulations have to be followed and it is a quicker way to get the punishment done. You will be leaving us soon and I would hate for you to take hard feelings with you; will you shake my hand on that?”

I bore her no malice. Mrs Fernandez had always been good to me, despite the two spankings; the first to convert a brat back into a human being and the second because quite simply, I had broken the rules. I had asked to be punished by confessing, and given that the other girls had been spanked, I deserved it too, so I took her hand.

“You need to go to the drugstore and buy some of that cream that is so good for the bruising. Get your mother to put some on tonight and tomorrow morning, and sitting won’t be so bad.”

It was extremely hard to walk as the pain pushed out from the epicentre down my legs and even up my back. I had not told anyone that I had confessed, but as I struggled down the steps to the yard, my three friends rushed to assist me with helping arms, hugs and kisses. The first spanking had brought me to my senses, and the second had made me a hero; well, of sorts. But there wasn’t going to be a third, I’d be gone before then.

Needless to say, my bottom was a horror movie when I inspected it in my bedroom mirror. I couldn’t believe how sore it looked and felt even some hours later and after several applications of the cream Maddy had lent me. Needless to say, Mum got nowhere near it although I had to wait until she turned away before sitting down for tea. I actually felt a bit proud of myself which is perhaps not quite the reaction intended.

The End

© JennyT 2025