Pow!

I let out a loud grunt as the heavy pine paddle impacted the seat of my denim shorts. This was the third such impact since I’d assumed this undignified position. Feet shoulder width apart, bent over with my forearms resting on top of my high school principal’s desk. Mrs Bridger had a shelf behind her desk that had about four trophies from different tennis tournaments that she’d competed in. It certainly felt like I was getting spanked by a tennis champion. She’d kept the swats coming steadily, about five seconds apart, and focused on the sit spots down low. I tried to find some solace in the fact that my punishment was now halfway finished, but that was difficult knowing more swats would soon land on my already incredibly sore backside.

Pow!

“Owww!”

I’d ended up in this predicament thanks to the inappropriate sense of humor I had as a teenage girl. I was working in the front office as a student assistant during one of my class periods, when I was given a special assignment. It was Friday and a football game was scheduled for that night. Our school mascot was the Titan. I was sent outside with a box of plastic letters to change the sign out front. I was told to make it say ‘All Hail The Titans’. I chose to replace the word ‘Titans’ with a slang term used to describe a part of female anatomy. Think upper body, you’ll understand. Word quickly got around to Mrs Bridger before I had a chance to change it to the correct phrase. Needless to say, she didn’t see the same humor in it that I did.

Pow!

“Uuuuhhh!”

Almost done. I braced myself for the final swat, desperately wanting this to be over. Instead there was an extended pause before Mrs Bridger spoke.

“Hannah, have you learned from this experience today?”

“Yes ma’am,” I replied assuredly.

“Is this something you’d want to experience again?”

“No ma’am.”

“If you ever put a message like that on the sign again you’ll get more than six next time. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Pow!

“Ahhhh!”

She told me I could get up then. I stood and rubbed my bottom profusely as she put the paddle away. She checked the time and noted that only ten minutes remained until the final dismissal bell.

“Hannah, how do you get home?” she asked.

“I walk ma’am.”

Mrs Bridger wrote me a pass to leave school early and dismissed me.

Our house was just a fifteen minute walk from school. It was a fairly difficult walk on this day as the seams of my panties kept rubbing against the very tender areas down low. On top of that was the other thing I kept trying not to think about. My dad was the main disciplinarian in our household, and he had specifically warned me that getting in trouble at school meant a spanking at home.

It was just after 3.00 When I arrived, and I had the house to myself as dad wouldn’t be home until around 4.30, and mom worked until 6.00. I immediately went up to my room and shut the door. I took off my shorts and panties and faced away from my full length mirror. I bent over slightly with my hands on my thighs then looked over my shoulder to inspect the damage. The lower half of my backside was maroon in color. I had two bruises on my sit spots that were purple with white dots in the middle, resembling the bullseye on a dart board. I felt an awful dread at the idea that I was going to get whipped on my already very sore, very marked bottom. I decided to go ahead and start the inevitable conversation with dad. I picked up my phone and texted him.

“Dad, you’re probably going to get an email from my school. I got in some trouble today.”

“I already got it,” he texted back. He’d been told exactly what I did, and what my punishment had been. I asked my next question very directly.

“Are you going to whip me later?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

“Is it still twice as many as I got at school? Mrs Bridger laid into me good with the paddle.”

“I don’t like this anymore than you, but If I say I’m going to do something then I need to follow through on it.”

“I understand. If I get everything ready, can we do it as soon as you get home?”

“That’s a smart idea.”

“Do you want me to go ahead and get a belt out of the closet?”

“No, I can just use the one I’ve got on.”

“Okay, when you get home I’ll be upstairs in my room, and ready. Dad, I’m sorry that you have to do this.”

“I’m sorry too sweetie. I’ll see you when I get home. Love you.”

“Love you too dad.”

I put my panties back on and debated for a moment on what to wear. I had kind of wanted something loose fitting, but decided to just put my denim shorts back on as I really wanted the extra padding they would offer. Even if it wasn’t all that much. I laid down on my stomach for a while as I didn’t really want to sit.

As I lay there, I dealt with two feelings. One was the fear of things to come. The last time I’d gotten a spanking from dad was five years prior, but I could still remember the sting. I’d gotten eight licks that time, and it was awful. Now I was due for twelve on an already sore, and well spanked bottom. The other thing I struggled with was feeling like I had let dad down. I always dealt with that whenever I had to be punished for a misdeed. I knew from experience that the only way to get rid of that feeling was to take the impending punishment. I eventually settled things in my mind as best I could.

Around 4.20 I started setting up. I took two pillows from the head of my bed and stacked them in the middle near the edge closest to my door. I looked out my window and saw dad's car pulling into the driveway. I drew the curtains for privacy, then I cracked my door open by a few inches. I then laid on my bed with my hips propped up by the pillows, and folded my arms underneath my torso to prevent me from accidentally reaching back during the spanking.

I heard the front door open and close, followed by the sound of dad’s footsteps coming up the stairs. My heart started racing as the sound got closer. Dad then entered the room.

“Ready to get this over with?” he asked.

I nodded in response.

“Alright then,” he replied, with a look as if he had a really unpleasant chore to do.

With that statement he reached down and loosened his belt buckle. I immediately turned my head in the opposite direction. It’s hard to explain but seeing him take the belt off somehow made the experience worse in my mind. It was bad enough to hear the sound of the belt sliding out of the loops, followed by jingling of the buckle as the belt was folded over. After those sounds I heard dad sigh. I knew he hated giving me these spankings as much as I hated getting them. He then initiated a part of the punishment ritual that always made me squirm.

“Tell me when,” he said, with a subdued melancholy in his voice.

I always hated that part as it made me a more active participant in my punishment than I wanted to be. I took a deep breath before giving my reluctant reply.

“I’m ready.”

The first stroke of the belt lashed across my bottom, re-igniting the sting from earlier. I hissed, inhaling through my teeth. After a short pause the second one landed drawing a pitiful whimper from me. He then sped up, landing licks in rapid succession accompanied by my grunts and groans. The ordeal felt like it lasted five minutes or more, but in reality was over in maybe thirty seconds. My bottom felt like it was on fire once again, and tears streamed down my face. Dad told me I could get up after he put his belt back on. When I stood he hugged me like always, and I knew that all was forgiven.

After dad left the room I lay back down on the bed to do some more crying. When I finally calmed down I got up and took off my shorts and panties to do another mirror check. I found a couple of new bruises added to the collection that weren’t as dark as the ones from the paddle. It took about three days for me to be able to sit comfortably. Then two more for all the marks to fade. The lesson taught by the paddle and reinforced by the belt that day stayed with me.

The End

© Paul Tecres 2025