Since I was thirteen, I had been watching the girl next door drive away in her car, thinking about the freedom it gave her, and thinking about how grown up it was. Several years later, since I got my provisional license, I have been enjoying that sense of freedom, of being grown-up enough to drive a car, even if I never really drove it very far. I was grown up enough to drive the car, but not grown up enough to avoid the jurisdiction of the school disciplinary codes, and it was there that car ownership, school discipline and friendship all crossed paths over the principal’s desk. I was soon to learn that car ownership had its unexpected costs.
“Mom, I need to talk, and I need your help.”
My mother had just arrived home from work and I needed to talk with her quickly before dad got home. I really just needed Mom to know.
“Give me a chance, Jenny. Let me get a drink.”
“What do you want, mom?”
I made her a drink and we sat down in the kitchen, where serious conversations usually took place in our house.
“You better read this, mom, and then I will explain.”
I handed her the letter from the high school principal, Mr Clinton. My mother read it.
“So, you’re going to get your butt paddled? Is there no alternative?”
“There’s suspension, but I can’t afford to lose the time. I’ve got exams coming up.”
“So, no choice really, or rather, you’ve made the sensible one already?”
“Yes, I have, but I’m really scared. I’m getting five swats and I’ve never had that many.”
“You’ve been paddled before then? I didn’t know about that.”
“Because I didn’t tell you, mom. It was in seventh grade when the teachers could still take us out and give us swats in the corridor, before they changed the rules. Only the principal or vice-principal can do it now.”
“So, what was that for?”
“Daydreaming, not paying attention, three from Mrs Hughes with Miss White witnessing, and it really hurt.”
“Taught you a lesson then, didn’t it? A clever girl like you wouldn’t need spanking twice.”
“No, mom.”
“So, why are you suddenly in trouble again?”
“You know Kathy has been ill for a while but still coming to school? Well, I’ve been lending her my car so she could go home at lunchtimes and get her medication. The school won’t allow drugs of any kind, even prescription drugs. And when she’s come back, she’s been parking in reserved spaces and apparently exceeding the speed limit, probably desperately trying to find somewhere to park as the lot is always full after lunch.”
“So, she should be getting the paddle, not you?”
“Yes, but she’s not strong enough now, and if they defer it, she’ll have it hanging over her. I just want to take all that worry away from her, she’s got enough already.”
“Given that she would likely be losing time anyway, couldn’t she take the suspension?”
“Mom, I’ve decided, I am going to do this and then it’s over. I’ve said it was me, and I’ve agreed to the licks, so I just need you to sign the letter so that Mr Clinton can do it in Mrs Agnew’s absence, and do it tomorrow. Get it over with, please mom.”
“It’s funny, Jen. Not so long ago I caught you out in a lie, put you over my knee and scorched your backside with my hairbrush, and now I find myself complicit in your lie to Mr Clinton.”
“I remember that, mom. You really laid it on! I haven’t lied to you since.”
“Good, it was an important lesson, my girl. You don’t tell lies at all now, do you? Well, apart from this one! It’s alright, I’m not going to spank you this time. I’m really proud of what you are doing. It takes me back. I felt a bit proud of myself when I took a paddling for my friend Becky way back when.”
“Do tell.”
“I worked with Becky in the chemistry lab, and she left the burner on under a flask. I went back to get a book, and the stuff had gone all over the desk and floor and everywhere. The cleaner was in tears. I helped her clean up, and Mr Hyde came back. He was furious, and asked if I had left it on. If I’d said ‘no’, it could only have been Becky, so I just owned up, and saved her the bother. I could not possibly trade my best friend in for a comfortable seat on the bus home.”
“So, what did he do?”
“He found a teacher in one of the other classrooms as a witness, and slammed my butt five times, extra hard. I couldn’t sit on the bus home! Or the next day for that matter.”
“I’m doing the right thing, then, and you can’t argue anymore, can you mom?”
“What do you want me to do? I’ll help in any way I can.”
“Right, first up, tell me straight how much is it going to hurt.”
“How many did you say you are you getting?”
“Five.”
“Well, it’ll likely be a bigger paddle than the one Mrs Hughes used on you in seventh grade, so, I won’t kid you. It will hurt like hell. You’ll be crying before the end. Your butt will be bruised and swollen. You won’t be able to sit down comfortably for two days at least. That’s straight. Like you wanted. But I hate that you’re having to go through with it.”
Yes, just what I needed to be told. I had to be realistic, but I was more than a little scared. My eyes started to water, and mom grabbed the box of tissues and came to sit right by me, putting a comforting arm around my shoulder.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Jen? You don’t have to.”
“Thanks, mom, but I do. He’d probably paddle me for lying anyway, like you would have done.”
Mother nodded. “I guess you are committed, no way back.”
“I need you to do some other things as well, please mom. Promise me you will never say anything to anyone, especially dad. You know what he’s like.”
“I will say nothing, and yes, you are right about your father. Question though, Jenny. Won’t Kathy be there tomorrow? And won’t she find out what is going on?”
“Stroke of luck, Mom, about the only one, really. Kathy has got a hospital appointment, so won’t be in. I just need to get my teacher onside so the class don’t find out.”
“Can you do that?”
“It’s Mrs Hughes, again. She got promoted, and despite the fact she paddled me before, we get on really well these days. And she’s as concerned about Kathy as I am.”
“Well, I’d like to think we get on pretty well too, even though I’ve had to spank your butt a few times. She meant well, like I did.”
“Yes, mom, you put me straight, and now I am almost perfect!”
My mother grunted.
“Will you run me to school in the morning and collect me afterwards? I don’t think I will be able to drive with a sore butt, or catch the bus. And would you find me some cream to try to reduce the bruising? It begins with an ‘A’, arnie something, I heard one of the girls talking about it, after she’d had the paddle. It apparently stops some of the bruising.”
“Yes, I know what you mean. I used it myself. I’ll even put it on for my brave girl if she would like.”
I smiled; my mother was getting the idea of all this.
“Oh, and one other thing, mom. I’ve got that beach and swimming party on Saturday. Is there any chance the marks will be gone by then? I want to wear my new costume.”
“What, the one with your backside hanging out?”
“It’s what all the girls are wearing for the beach, mom!”
“Wearing is not the word I would use. But, it looks like we’ve got to get your very tender butt from looking like a beetroot after Mr Clinton’s done with it, to clear and beautiful all in less than four days, right?”
“Beetroot?”
“That’s what a paddling will do to it. You’ll see what I mean when you look in the mirror.”
“Oh, thanks Mom, so encouraging!”
I forced a giggle, somehow, despite the worry and fear building up inside of me. It felt good, with my mother on my side. I hugged her tight. She was really going to help me through this.
“Ok, here’s the plan. You spend five minutes over Mr Clinton’s desk tomorrow, I pick you up from school, and then three times a day, you’ll be over my knee for a good creaming, and then some. I’ll do my best to get you fit for Saturday, maybe a bit of foundation if necessary. No promises, OK? And you better not get sunburnt after all this effort, or you’ll get a spanking from me for your stupidity. Understand?”
Mom finished with a big grin, but a threat nonetheless, probably not a real one. I put my arms around her. She could be really great, my mom. In fact she is really great!
“Anything else?”
“Yes, I’ve got two more swats coming instead of library fines, but those have been postponed for two weeks.”
“That’s the way to save money, my girl, and if you can take five, you can take two, easy, well maybe.”
The phone rang, mom answered, and came back looking worried.
“Kathy’s been rushed to hospital. I’ll make you a sandwich. Take your books so you can work while you wait, if you can concentrate. And I’ll drive you in tomorrow.”
I rushed to the hospital, and joined Kathy’s family gathering of concern. I felt a bit guilty that the surgical procedure she was undergoing was not the only procedure on my mind that evening. I was concerned, worried and frightened in equal measure, and so I burst into tears when the doctor came out with the good news. Kathy was going to be fine; a load lifted for me, just five more to go.
Mom signed the form on the understanding that there were going to be two female witnesses, and drove me to school. I handed the slip in and went into class. I was distracted, nervous, tired, and distant that morning and when I heard Mrs Hughes shout, “Jennifer,” I came round suddenly and thought she was going to take me out into the corridor again. There was a certain irony when she threatened me with Mr Clinton, though she was concerned that I was so distracted.
The tension, the butterflies, the stomach cramps increased all day until at 2.00 pm Mr Clinton opened the door to his office and invited me in. The paddle, maybe 16inches long plus integral handle, and 4 inches wide, was on the desk ready for me.
“Who would you like as your witnesses, Jennifer?” Mr Clinton asked, bringing me out of my staring match with the paddle. I guess I looked away first.
“Can I have Mrs Cortez and Mrs Hughes, please Sir.”
“Of course, you can. I will arrange it. Stay there.”
I returned to my staring match with the paddle, and seeing that, Mr Clinton handed it to me when he came back in. It was quite heavy, much heavier than the one Mrs Hughes had used on me in the second year, and my knees started shaking at the thought of the damage it could do to me. Mrs Cortez, the school secretary, arrived quickly from the office next door, clutching a box of tissues. Mrs Hughes took a little longer. She seemed surprised to find me there.
“OK, Jennifer, I’m sorry but a bit of necessary admin. Jennifer, can you confirm your full name and date of birth. OK. You have agreed to take swats rather than a suspension?”
I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“You are receiving swats for three offences of speeding in your vehicle on campus on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday lunchtimes last week.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I quickly looked in Mrs Hughes direction. She would have noticed the Thursday being mentioned, when I was actually doing some project work with her all the way through lunchtime. She was about to say something, but I caught her eye, and mouthed, “It’s OK.” She looked perplexed but said nothing, thankfully.
“And every day last week your vehicle was parked all afternoon in a personal parking space.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Jennifer, can you confirm that you were driving the car and that you parked it in the reserved space?”
“Yes, Sir. The parking lot was full, so I had to find somewhere else.”
“And would you agree that you were exceeding the campus speed limit?”
“Not by much, Sir.”
“The limit is ten miles per hour. The CCTV clocked you at eighteen on Tuesday, twenty on Thursday, and fifteen on Friday.”
“I’m sorry, sir, I was getting really worried about finding a space. I won’t do it again.”
“I should warn you that we will revoke your permit if either of these things happen again.”
“I understand, Sir.”
“I have received the authorisation, signed by your mother, to spank you, given we have no female Vice-Principal in school at the moment, so long as I have two female witnesses present, and I do; these two ladies you have requested. You are to receive five licks with the paddle which you have inspected, with two further swats deferred for two weeks with regards to another disciplinary offence. Are you happy with the arrangements, Jennifer?”
“Yes, Sir,” I croaked.
I had no idea how happiness came into it. I looked at Mrs Hughes again and she smiled at me, and mouthed, “You’ll be alright.” That was a precious moment in the middle of a nightmare. She had realised what I was doing and she had my back. Unfortunately, Mr Clinton was about to have my bottom.
“Right then, unless you have any questions, you will now lean across the desk, Jennifer. I need you to be almost horizontal with your buttocks pushed well back.”
I followed instructions and assumed the truly humiliating position. My mind went back to the corridor many years ago when previously I had been humiliated by holding my knees for the paddle, but this was worse because there was a man doing it, and I had never been spanked by a man before. I was a young woman with my own car, this wasn’t supposed to be happening to me. I hoped he wouldn’t spot the extra pair of thick panties mom had given me. There was no reason why he should but, all of a sudden, I realised that the back of my jeans would be receiving substantial scrutiny, and the illegal deception might be detected.
I just couldn’t believe I was there because of that lovely little car I had craved so many years as a bid for freedom. Could I make a bid for freedom from that desk, from that office, and just walk out of that school forever; end up in a no-hope job living in a trailer park on the far side of the tracks to nowhere, with a load of kids and a worthless husband? Or I could trade my best friend in for a comfortable seat home? The spanking I was about to receive on her behalf and for which I should be eternally grateful was the unavoidable next stage of my future. I was doing the right thing, and I would feel really good about it, eventually.
He picked up the paddle and I felt it rest against me, then move away.
“Jennifer, you have something in your back pocket. Please remove it.”
So stupid, I was getting myself psyched up to the pain, and then my concentration was broken. I stood up and took my keys out and handed them to Mrs Hughes, who was nearest. I then assumed the position again, and Mr Clinton returned the paddle to the back of my jeans before delivering the first smack. There was a slight delay from thump to pain shooting through me. Mr Clinton only waited a short time between swats, so within maybe twenty-five seconds he had reached four. I was in agony, and my hand went back to clutch my right cheek. Fortunately, Mr Clinton saw it and stopped in time.
“Jennifer, you must stop that now, please. I cannot continue with your hand getting in the way. I won’t be able to finish the punishment, and we’ll have to start over, or you’ll have to accept suspension. Do I need to ask Mrs Hughes to hold your hands?”
I started to lift off the desk and Mrs Hughes rushed forward and put her arm around my shoulders.
“Be strong, Jenny. Just one more. You don’t want to have to come back, do you?”
“No, Miss,” I sobbed.
I settled back down over the desk, and resumed my position. The thought of having to come back again, or having the punishment commuted, brought me to my senses, even though my head was not thinking clearly.
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“Alright, Jenny, it’s your first time, I’ll let you off. So, we are at four, you have one more coming.”
I think to make up for me putting him off his fifth stroke, and breaking the build-up of burning coals in my backside, he swung it back a bit further and gave me an extra hard one for the fifth, and oh, did it hurt? I gasped, and cried out. I couldn’t believe the pain. Educators are supposed to care for children, not beat them to a pulp! My tears were flowing, just like mom said they would. I should have done better than that, I was a driver after all, nearly grown-up. Afterwards, I just lay there with agony invading everywhere, and my behind burning like a furnace. I was almost lifeless on the table except for the quiet sniffs and the tears, and with my bottom, hips, and legs moving around to try and dispel the pain, but I had done the right thing. I had done the right thing!
He put the paddle back on the desk. It was over.
With permission, I struggled to my feet. I was unsteady, my head was spinning, I thought I might pass out. I didn’t remember Mrs Hughes hurting me anything like as much. This was a different level altogether. I felt her arm around my shoulder again, comforting me, steadying me. Mrs Cortez took a handful out of her ready-prepared box of tissues and handed them to me. Mrs Hughes walked slowly back with me, actually grabbing my hand as well when I stumbled slightly on a step. I couldn’t believe how a simple thing like walking could be so painful. She very kindly offered me a pass-out which I was reluctant to accept because of losing class-time.
She turned to me. “I know what you were doing in there. You were with me last Thursday lunchtime. We were doing that project, so you weren’t the driver, were you? You were trying to save Kathy, weren’t you?”
“Please don’t say anything. I don’t want Kathy ever to find out.”
Mrs Hughes put her fingers to her lips.
“You’re not going to be able to sit down comfortably this afternoon, are you, after the five he gave you?”
“It’ll be hard, Miss, but I will manage.”
“No, you don’t have to. I’m giving you a pass-out. It’s the easiest way, then the class won’t know you’ve been spanked, and Kathy will never know either and you won’t have to lie to her.”
“But Miss, I don’t want to lose lesson time.”
“I’ll pick it up with you, just the two of us. All you will be thinking about this afternoon is the pain in your backside. Just accept it, Jenny.”
“Well, it is really sore, but mom was going to pick me up after school. I don’t want to go on the bus.”
Mrs Hughes grinned.
“Yea, public transport with a freshly paddled backside is a nightmare.”
I looked at her quizzically.
“We all went to school, Jenny.”
I smiled; Mrs Hughes was being so kind.
“Oh my, I wish I’d had a friend like you. You’re a brave girl. So, not a word. I’ll clear it with the class, you’ve gone sick. Kathy will never find out. You go dry your eyes, and take a few minutes. Give your mother a call, I’m sure she’ll come for you. I’ll get your things and the pass-out.”
She put her arm around my shoulder, squeezed a little by way of affection, and pointed me towards the restrooms.
“Oh, and by the way, Jenny, I’m sorry I shouted at you this morning. I can understand why you were distracted now.”
Mrs Hughes, smiled, and had a chuckle at her thoughts.
“It’s a good job teachers can’t paddle students any more, otherwise I might have spanked your butt again like I did in year seven.”
“Glad you didn’t, I really am, although I thought you were going to send me to Mr Clinton.”
“Well, he sure knows how to do it. By the way, whatever you may think, you took it really well. I’ll go get your things and find you near the restrooms.”
I attempted to survey the damage in the wall mirrors. It looked awful, bullseye on the right cheek, and a full coverage of red and purple. To my complete surprise and horror, two lower school girls came out of the stalls, splashed their hands and rushed off giggling. I hadn’t checked first but at least they didn’t know me.
Mom cancelled her meeting and picked me up. She was standing at the bottom of the steps as I tried to walk out. We hugged, and she helped me into the car.
“Are you alright, Jenny?”
“Not really, mom. It is still hurting so much, but I’m so glad it’s over.”
“You know, I’m proud of what you’ve done.”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Well know so. To take the maximum five for a friend is really something.”
“Thanks, Mom, but you did it too.”
“So, we’re as good or as bad as each other!”
She grabbed my hand as she spoke. I felt good about myself, but so sore even on the cushion she had brought for me.
“Now, we’ve got some work to do,” said my mother as we pulled into our driveway.
After a drink, came inspection.
“Like I say, we’ve got a lot of work to do. That’s quite a spanking, and quite a beetroot, like I said. I thought he might go easy on the girls, but obviously not. Right, bath and then cream, and we’ll just keep doing it.”
My more detailed inspection in the bathroom mirror confirmed mother’s description; a disaster zone for sure, and still incredibly sore. I had no idea how that was going to heal by Saturday. I felt almost certain I would have to cancel; there was no way I could not go in swimwear, everybody would be asking.
After the bath, I climbed over my mother’s knee as she sat on the bed. I remembered the last time I had been in that position; it was not the tender loving care she was providing on this occasion. Lying was not tolerated in our house, and it was a lesson very well learned.
“This may hurt a bit, Jen, because I’ve got to press the cream in for it to work properly, so sorry but it’s for a good cause.”
“Ouch! Yes, Mom, I’ll grit my teeth. You seem to know what you’re doing.”
“Becky and I used to help each other when we’d been paddled at school, or at home. It’s what friends do, it’s what I’m doing now, for my young friend.”
“Sounds like you two were always in trouble.”
“We had our moments. So, are you ever going to tell Kathy?”
“No, my secret. Our secret.”
“If it was the other way round, and you found out, what would you do?”
I thought for a moment, it was a difficult question.
“I think I would be a bit mad with her, but only for a short time. And then, I think I would just go to see Mr Clinton and confess.”
“I always worried Mr Hyde would say something to just the two of us about remembering to switch the burner off, in which case Becky would have realised and likely confessed, but he just gave general reminders to the class. Becky’s butt was safe thanks to mine!”
“Ouch, is there a big bruise there?”
“Yes, a big round area where the paddle must have landed every time, often happens like that. Anyway, that will do for the first session, more later and then again in the morning, and we’ll do our best to keep your dad uninformed, right?”
“Yes, mom, thank you. It feels better already.”
The multi-coloured bruised and battered lumps of flesh that passed for my buttocks needed a lot of attention over the next few days. I went over my mother’s knee but in a good way three times a day for the next three and a half days. She was caring and soft in her ministrations. I felt in such good hands. I got rides to and from school so that we had more time in the mornings and evenings to attend to my backside. I even got a tube to apply myself at lunchtimes.
Saturday morning, with the costume on, everything was fine.
“I don’t know why you bother; you might as well go naked.”
“It’s the fashion, mom.”
I hugged my mother; I was so grateful for the love and attention she had given me over those days.
“We did well, now make sure you’ve got plenty of sun block on because that skin is still healing. In fact, I’ll do it myself and make sure. Save you the spanking I promised!”
I took my two-swat paddling much better, and although mother helped, far less work was required. Kathy recovered well and I helped her with the work she missed. I was thinking about how the thing with cars and freedom had come back and bit me on the backside, courtesy of Mr Clinton’s paddle. I had spent so much time thinking about the freedom the girl next door had, with a car of her own.
One day I noticed a nasty gouge all the way down the side of her car. A bit later in the day, Kathy and I were revising in my backyard. It was a warm Spring day and everybody had got their windows open. We were disturbed by an almighty argument next door; we couldn’t make out all the words but it was clearly something to do with the car. The argument stopped for a few minutes and then picked up again, more clearly that time so they must have changed rooms.
“Oh no, Dad, you can’t do that, I’m too old.”
“You’re in my house and you’ve just wrecked the car I bought for you because of carelessness. Added to that, there are all these parking tickets, unpaid. I should have done this a long time ago; your ass is going to pay, young lady. Get those shorts off.”
“No, I won’t,” the last act of defiance from the near twenty-year-old next door.
“You’re getting your butt paddled, young madam, and if you won’t take them off, I will.”
It went quiet as the daughter apparently obeyed and then, “Right, bend over the table and stick your butt right out.”
I had Mr Clinton’s voice in my head, and the memory was a bit scary. Kathy laughed; I chuckled politely. If only she knew!
“Jenny, I’ve got something for you. I keep forgetting. I don’t know why, but listening to this has just reminded me.”
Katherine pulled a twenty dollar note from the pocket of her shorts. I had no idea why she should suddenly think of it, maybe just the car connection?
“Sorry, I should have given this to you before. This is for the gas I used when I borrowed your car. I don’t owe you anything else, do I? Is that enough or do I need to give you another five?”
“No, I don’t need any more. Keep it all, Kath, buy me a coffee next time. Friendship is more important than a drop of gas.”
“Oh, thank you, Jen. You have been a wonderful friend to me.”
I was so glad she was well again. We hugged, and laughed at the activities next door. There followed a substantial paddling; the girl cried out several times even though, like me, she would have been gritting her teeth and trying her best to take it. I thought of myself across Mr Clinton’s desk. I think I felt every swat; there was a twinge in my cheeks every time the paddle struck hers; I knew just what she was going through. My long-term envy turned into empathy, even if she deserved it and I hadn’t. The poor girl was certainly finding out, like I had, that car ownership had its unexpected costs.
The End
© Jenny Tomlinson 2023