The thing about a guilty conscience is that it eats away at you, often slowly, but it occupies your mind and you just can’t seem to get rid of it. It affects your friendships and your attitude to schoolwork. Friendships? Yes, I was good friends with three other girls in particular, all of us being in the tenth grade at school and having the same home room and home room teacher, Mr Arnold.

I liked Mr Arnold, I think most of us did. He was young, well youngish, maybe in his early thirties, ex US Marine Corps, and an all-round good guy. He had a young wife, an attractive blond lady, no kids yet, and they lived in the same city suburb as my family and me. I guess he also wasn’t any kind of fool.

So, late one afternoon when we were all in our home room for the final minutes of the school day, he finished reading out a couple of messages from the school’s administration department and we were just fidgeting around waiting for the bell to end the school day. When it sounded, we all headed for the door.

“Ms Christensen? May I have a word?”

I stopped in my tracks, ducked out of the throng and went to stand by Mr Arnold’s desk.

“Sir?”

“Can you spare me a moment, Ms Christensen?”

I shrugged. “Sure, yes sir.”

“Grab a chair, come sit by the side of my desk, Ms Christensen.”

Now this was another occasion when that guilty conscience I was talking about kicked in. What did he know? Was I in trouble? I wasn’t aware of anything I’d done wrong. Well, not exactly true. Three friends and me had been sharing a couple of joints behind an old disused groundsmen’s hut on the edge of the school campus. Could it be about that? That was three weeks ago, so surely not? And anyway, only the other three had been caught.

“Carol.” The change to using my first name now we were alone made me even more suspicious. “Carol, I couldn’t help but notice something seems to be troubling you. You know I’m on the school counselling team. If you need help with something, anything, I’m here to help. Anything you say here would be totally off the record.”

I gave out a few ums and errs. Yes, he was dead right, there was something troubling me. My guilty conscience. Was I just going to tell him everything? No way. Well, maybe not. My head was spinning. It was tempting to tell him everything, let it all out, something I’d not been able to do with anyone.

“I repeat,” he started up again. “This can be strictly off the record, just a completely private discussion between us two, if it helps.”

“Well, I guess there kind of is something,” I returned with a deal of hesitation.

“I’m listening. Take your time,” he encouraged.

“You remember three weeks ago when Amy, Donna and Becky all got caught smoking cannabis?”

“Yes, I remember. I was the witness when Mrs Warwick paddled them. That often falls to their home room teacher.”

“Oh.” I did not know that. “So, um, er…”

“Take your time, Carol.”

“So, that day all four of us were, um, kind of smoking there, behind the old groundsmen’s shed.”

He looked surprised. “But Ms Evans and Mr Williams only found your three friends, didn’t she?”

“That’s right, sir. I’d left them to visit the bathroom and when I returned I heard Mrs Evans’ voice, so I quickly hid round the corner. She’d obviously caught them smoking weed because she was saying they were in big trouble and they were going straight to Mrs Warwick.”

“Lucky for you. It sounds like if you’d been a couple minutes earlier then you’d have been caught too.”

“That’s right, sir. I caught up with them after school and they told me they’d each got five swats, and that they were really good ones.”

Mr Arnold chuckled, although I didn’t really see the joke.

“Okay,” Mr Arnold said, not smiling now and kind of looking confused. “So, have those three been getting at you because they got paddled and you didn’t?”

“Not really, no, sir. It’s just that we all four know I should have got paddled along with them. It’s put a kind of wedge between us somehow. It’s kind of hard to explain.”

“You’re doing just fine, Carol. Have the other three said anything to you that makes you feel isolated from them?”

“No sir, and that kind of makes it worse.”

Mr Arnold chewed that over for a good few seconds before he replied. “Okay, so you got lucky and they didn’t. They surely couldn’t have expected you to go join them, knowing they’d just been caught smoking cannabis? You’d have been handing yourself in for some serious repercussions.”

“At the time, I felt a huge relief that I hadn’t been caught, especially when I heard they got five hard licks. It’s later, when I keep thinking about it, that I feel kind of bad and guilty that I got off when perhaps I shouldn’t have.”

“You know, Carol, I don’t think anyone would have done anything different to what you did. I mean, what were you supposed to do? Come out from behind the shed, catch up with them and ask Ms Evans to take you along to Mrs Warwick too? That seems just too much to expect.”

“I guess, although I’m kind of wishing that maybe I had done just that.”

“At the time, were you aware of what might happen to your friends?”

I blinked. “Honestly sir, I didn’t really think about it. I mean, I knew they were in serious trouble and that there would be a punishment of some kind. I guess my biggest fear was that they would be suspended for a time, or maybe even thrown out of school. Yes, I was really afraid of that, and that’s maybe part of the reason I stayed back.”

“And now you know what punishment they actually received, how do you feel about it?”

“Real glad they weren’t thrown out of school.”

“Would it help if I got you and your three friends together so we could talk it all out?”

“Maybe, sir.” I wasn’t convinced, and perhaps my tone reflected that.

“Is there one friend in particular who maybe we could ask to join us in an off-the-record chat so we kind of break the ice a bit?”

I shrugged. I didn’t see that as a solution either.

“So, what are you thinking you want to do, Carol? Friends are important. I realize that.”

“Can I really say what I’ve been thinking, sir? I mean, without committing myself.”

“Sure, go ahead. We’re just talking possibilities here.”

I knew full well the idea I wanted to run by him; something I’d been fretting over for weeks now. It was just so hard to open my mouth and spill out the words.

“I’ve been thinking, sir.” I paused. It felt like it was now or never. “I’ve been thinking maybe I should turn myself in to Mrs Warwick.”

Mr Arnold nodded thoughtfully. “What do you suppose would happen if you did that?”

“Er, I’d get paddled like my friends, and then we’d all be equal?” Then a thought hit me. “You don’t think she’d suspend me or worse because it’s taken me three weeks to own up?”

“I think I could convince her not to do that,” Mr Arnold suggested. “Do you feel you should face extra punishment for not owning up before now, if indeed you do decide to do that?”

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about, sir.”

Boy! He’d hit the nail right on the head. I was worried enough about getting paddled, but I was even more fearful that things could get a lot worse. I got the feeling Mr Arnold really understood what I’d been fretting about.

“Carol, like I say, this is a confidential talk together and doesn’t have to go any further. I tend to feel if you do nothing then your situation isn’t going to change. Maybe time will heal what you think is a rift between you and your friends, maybe it won’t. So, I’m going to offer a suggestion and let you chew it over. Okay?”

“Yes sir.” I shivered a bit, thinking I kind of knew where he was heading, and knowing the suggestion wouldn’t be at all pleasant.”

“So, here’s just one option. I set up a meeting with Mrs Warwick and take you along. That would mean putting what you’ve told me on record. You’d then face the consequences. I could suggest to Mrs Warwick that she paddle you just like she did with your three friends. Then, as an extra punishment for not owning up sooner, I take you back here and you serve a one-hour detention. You’d need to warn your folks that you’d be home late.”

I was speechless at that moment. Mr Arnold had put into words what I felt should happen, only I was too afraid to really contemplate it. The spanking, I mean. The extra detention was a good idea to punish me for not owning up sooner. The only other option would have been extra swats, and I knew the school had a policy of giving a maximum of five swats on any one occasion. Extra swats would mean having to go back next week to get them.

I felt myself nodding as I thought the idea over. Eventually I spoke.

“Sir, I think you’ve put into words what I’ve been thinking should happen, maybe even what I’d like to happen.”

“So, do you want me to set it up?”

“I-I’m not sure sir,” I stuttered.

“What bit of my plan are you worried about, Carol?”

“Getting spanked by Mrs Warwick, sir!”

“It’ll hurt. But if I was to ask Mrs Warwick to go easy on you, would that really bring to an end the concerns you’ve been telling me about?”

“Probably not, sir. No.” I felt my heartbeat pummel against my chest.

“How do you feel about the detention?”

“I think that’s fair enough, sir. Or I guess I could take an extra couple of swats if you thought that was necessary?”

“That would mean a second spanking, Carol. To have that hanging over you as well, having already taken the first spanking? I don’t really think that’s necessary.”

I nodded. At least we were agreed on that.

“So, how exactly would this work, sir?” I asked tentatively.

“I’m thinking you should have twenty-four hours to consider. Then, if you want to go ahead, tomorrow after school I would take you along to Mrs Warwick’s office where you could confess everything, putting it all on record. I could then explain to Mrs Warwick what we’ve agreed and she would then carry out the paddling with me as witness. I witnessed your three friends being paddled, but you could choose another witness if you prefer. Then you and I come back to this home room where you serve your detention. We could maybe start the detention before we go along to Mrs Warwick’s office or when we get back.”

“I think that should start when we get back, sir.”

“Fair enough. That’s what we could do.”

I hesitated, torn between what I knew I should do, and wondering whether there was some other way out of this. I couldn’t think of one, and Mr Arnold wasn’t offering any alternatives.

“I kind of know what I should do, sir, only it’s difficult.”

“I understand, Carol. Remember, my offer to get you and your three friends together is still open, if you think that would work.”

“No sir, I know what I have to do. It’s just saying the words to set it all off.”

“Of course. You’re having to submit yourself to a spanking that you know is going to hurt. That’s not easy. Look, you don’t have to decide right now. Go away from here and sleep on it. Let me know what you decide tomorrow. Maybe do that before lunch so I can check Mrs Warwick is going to be available?”

“What if she isn’t, sir?”

“Then we’ll arrange for someone else to do it. Otherwise, I’ll find a witness and spank you myself.”

I nodded. I knew inside me that if I went ahead then I would want it done with as little delay as possible. I didn’t have any qualms about getting spanked by Mr Arnold if Mrs Warwick wasn’t available to do it.

“So it wouldn’t be like I’d have to wait until next week or something?”

“No, I’ll make sure you get paddled tomorrow, assuming you tell me you want to go ahead with it.”

And that was about the end of that conversation. I left school and headed home in my car, all the while running through my discussion with Mr Arnold in my head. I felt a kind of relief at having talked it all out. It was now no longer all bottled up inside me. I think I knew what I had to do, even though it was definitely not something that I wanted to do. With my conversation with Mr Arnold being in confidence, I didn’t need to make a decision immediately, but I think I already had. From tenth grade onwards, parents don’t need to be informed about school paddlings, so I kept quiet when I got home. This was something I needed to deal with on my own.

I slept surprisingly well, better than I had for several weeks. In the morning, after I’d showered, I sat in my room thinking about what I should wear. I normally wear pants rather than skirts and dresses; jeans, thin cotton pants and leggings if I’m wearing a long T-shirt. As I checked my wardrobe, I first selected a new pair of jeans that had only been washed a couple of times, so they still retained their thickness, and several pairs of panties that I hoped I could wear without being caught out, all aimed at providing maximum protection from the paddling. Yes, I had by then decided to take the spanking.

Then that old guilty conscience kicked in again. Here I was, taking a spanking to even the score, yet choosing clothes to reduce its effect as much as possible. It just didn’t sit right. In the end, I chose brief white panties, not a thong but small enough that the lower portions of my butt would not be covered. I pulled on thin gray leggings and checked my backside in the long mirror that fronted my wardrobe. They really hugged my pear-shaped behind, which I liked, but they would never pass dress code. I did not need to land myself in even more trouble.

I was about to take the leggings off when I had an idea. I had a tartan skirt that was quite short, and almost certainly would not pass dress code on itself, but worn over my leggings would be acceptable. It was a wrap-around skirt, so easy to take off when I was in Mrs Warwick’s office. I put it on, checked the mirror again, and confirmed it would be perfectly acceptable.

I arrived at school a few minutes early for home room and found Mr Arnold sitting at his desk in an otherwise empty room. He looked up as I approached.

“Good morning, Carol,” he said, all friendly.

“Good morning, sir.” I took a deep breath. “I, um, er, would like you to arrange things with Mrs Warwick, sir.”

“You want to take the spanking? And the detention?”

“Yes sir. My folks know I’ll be late home. I, er, I’ve told them I’m doing a special project, sir.”

“That’s fine, Carol. The school doesn’t need their permission to paddle you, now you’re over sixteen. But are you sure you want to do this? You can have up to lunch break to back out. I won’t need to see Mrs Warwick before then.”

“No, I’ve made my mind up, sir. Please make the arrangements.”

Other students began pouring into the room and the school day began. I probably wasn’t as attentive in my classes as I should have been, but no one actually complained. Amy, Donna and Becky were friendly enough when I was around them, but with that coolness I’d been sensing since the day they were caught smoking weed. The morning dragged, but the afternoon raced by, and then we were in our home room with Mr Arnold. He made the usual couple of announcements and then the bell sounded to end the school day. Within thirty seconds, the other students had dashed for the door and Mr Arnold and I were in the room alone.

I hovered at my desk, having packed my bag with books that I would need for homework. I looked at Mr Arnold.

“Okay, Carol, here’s where we’re at.” I kind of liked that he’d reverted to calling me by my first name. “I’ve spoken with Mrs Warwick. She is now aware that you were also smoking cannabis with your three friends, and she has confirmed that your punishment will be five swats. You can no longer back out. She has also agreed the one hour detention after you’ve been spanked. Okay?”

“Yes sir.”

I kind of trembled when he said I could no longer back out. My fate was sealed.

“Are you ready?”

I hesitated, then, “Yes sir.”

“Come along then.”

The walk along the hallways to the administrative area took maybe four minutes, both of us lost in our thoughts and not speaking. When we reached Mrs Warwick’s office, Mr Arnold knocked on the door and waited for the good lady to call us in. We stood side-by-side in front of Mrs Warwick’s light-colored desk. I looked around for the paddle I was to be spanked with, but couldn’t locate it.

“So, Ms Christensen, Mr Arnold tells me you were fortunate enough to avoid being discovered along with your friends when Ms Evans and Mr Williams checked around the campus. Correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And now you want to own up? Is that correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“You’re aware of the punishment you’re facing?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Five swats? And you’re going to serve a one-hour detention later as the penalty for not owning up earlier? Is that correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Why? You’d gotten away with it!”

“My conscience, I guess, ma’am. I was just as guilty as my friends.”

“Okay, well, I kind of admire your principles. That said, I’m not going to paddle your butt any less hard. You do understand that?”

“Yes ma’am, that’s what I want, well, sort of.” I grimaced.

Mrs Warwick smiled. Even though I’d put myself forward for this, I think she accepted I would still be nervous, scared even. I saw her looking down at my lower half, and then realized I was still wearing my short tartan skirt. She spoke before I could explain.

“Ms Christensen, I see you are wearing both pants and a skirt. I would not normally allow that, but I guess in view of the somewhat voluntary nature of this paddling maybe we can let it go.”

I blushed. And panicked. “Oh, no ma’am, I wasn’t trying to cheat, honest. I chose to wear these leggings for my paddling, but reckoned they’d be against the dress code, so I put the skirt on over top, meaning to take it off before I, er, we, you know.”

“Take it easy, Ms Christensen. Calm down. Calm down. I would not for a moment dream of accusing you of cheating, given how we’ve got to where we are.”

I’d protested my innocence so quickly I was now breathing heavily. I tried to settle myself down, not totally successfully. “Shall I? Should I?” I started fingering my skirt fastenings, looking to Mrs Warwick to approve. I guess at that moment I wasn’t really sure whether we were still in the talking stage of the proceedings, or nearing the painful part.

“Go ahead, Ms Christensen. Take your skirt off. You can out it on my desk.”

Oh! Definitely getting to the painful part.

I unfastened my skirt, folded it and put it on the desk, hoping that wasn’t the bit of the desk that she would ask me to bend over. My nerves were pretty much shot by then, and I felt I wasn’t thinking straight. I saw Mrs Warwick looking down at my light gray leggings, not exactly approvingly. I could sense Mr Arnold doing the same, only he would have a better view of the target area.

At this point, Mrs Warwick went across the room to one of three metal filing cabinets. No prizes for guessing why. She came back over carrying a wooden paddle. Of course, my eyes followed it all the way. It was made of a light-colored wood, maple maybe, and about twenty inches long, six inches across and three quarters of an inch thick. One end tapered down into a handle, and blue tape had been wound round that end to make a grippy handle. It looked a sturdy contrivance that was designed to deliver firm spankings.

“Okay, Ms Christensen, stand a few feet behind you where there’s some clear floor, bend over and grasp your ankles.”

I looked around, past Mr Arnold and towards the door. There wasn’t much to see other than Mrs Warwick’s thick-pile maroon-colored carpet. I turned and took three steps, stood with my right side towards the door, and started leaning over. I’m pretty agile, so reaching down and grabbing hold of my legs just above my ankles was easy. I immediately felt my light-gray leggings stretch tight around my butt, and began doubting my choice of such figure-hugging pants. Too late now!

Moving my head to the left, I could see Mrs Warwick approaching with paddle in hand and looking at my behind like a cat views a mouse he’s sneaking up on. Mr Arnold moved away to my right side and a bit behind, meaning he was able to keep a close eye on my butt too. In normal circumstances, I might have felt embarrassed, but that was the last thing on my mind right then.

Being reasonably fit, holding my bending over position was easy. Having two adults focusing on your behind is awkward at the best of times, but when you know what they’re intending to do, well that’s not a good place to be. Then I felt my butt having the paddle rubbed on it in slow circles, like she’s lining up for the first whack.

“Okay, here it comes.”

I braced myself, physically and mentally, and waited to feel what I was sure would be great pain. I didn’t have to wait long. There was a crack like a gunshot going off and then a searing pain right across the whole of my butt, and I knew what it was like to be paddled by Mrs Warwick!

I sensed a delay, maybe it was ten seconds or so, and then the paddle began rubbing my behind again. I tensed up and pow! I got spanked a second time. My butt hurt like nothing I had experienced before, and it felt real sore already. I suddenly had a great sympathy for my three friends who were marched straight here and immediately spanked without really being able to prepare themselves.

Pow! My butt got spanked a third time. The pain seemed to be building up, with each spank increasing the pain. Okay, it was bearable, but gosh it hurt! Mrs Warwick certainly knew how to disincentivize a girl from misbehaving!

The paddle pounded my butt again, and it hurt just as much as before, although maybe I was getting just a little used to it. I guess I was concentrating so much on taking each swing of the paddle that crying didn’t enter my head. Perhaps I had the belief that I deserved every ounce of pain?

Of course I’d been keeping count and instantly realized the fifth spank would be the last. I don’t think Mrs Warwick applied it extra hard. It hurt just like all the others. I sure had an urge to rub my sore butt but wasn’t certain of the protocol, so I stayed bent over.

It seemed like a long time remaining in that position before I heard Mrs Warwick say, “Okay, Ms Christensen, you’re done.”

I slowly straightened up, checking that was okay, but Mrs Warwick was already back at the filing cabinets returning the paddle. Mr Arnold remained, now watching me tenderly explore my sore butt with very careful fingertips.

Only when Mrs Warwick came back to us did Mr Arnold say, “Okay Carol, are you ready to go back to the form room?”

I nodded; my throat suddenly very dry.

I picked up my skirt, but didn’t hang around to put it on. The school was empty now, so I couldn’t see anyone worrying about any dress code violation. We walked the hallways back to the form room in a similar silence to how we’d gone. I guess neither of us had the right words.

Back in the form room, Mrs Arnold suggested, “I guess you won’t feel much like sitting, Carol. How about you stand facing the wall while you serve the detention?”

He was right about one thing. The students’ chairs have hard plastic seats and sitting on one of them right now was not a good choice. I took him up on the ‘facing the wall’ offer, after depositing my skirt on one of the students’ desks, standing with my nose a few inches away from the cream painted wall. It felt like the right thing to do. Meanwhile, Mr Arnold sat down at his desk and started quietly tapping away at his computer.

“I’ve registered that you’ve received your five swats, Carol,” he confirmed. “I’ll complete the record when you’ve served the detention. Okay?”

“Okay sir,” I replied, the back of my right hand still gently caressing the pain in my butt.

Within a couple of minutes, I heard noises just outside the open door. Looking round, I saw my three friends, Amy, Donna and Becky, come into the classroom.

“Has it, like, been done?” Amy asked.

Neither Mr Arnold nor I knew who she was speaking to, so when Mr Arnold didn’t reply I answered, “Why do you think I’m rubbing my butt?”

“She’s been spanked,” Donna said, in a tone that suggested she wasn’t too unhappy about the news.

“We just wanted you to know we appreciate the gesture,” Becky, always the more thoughtful of the four of us, explained as she came across to stand right behind me.

“Yes, you didn’t need to do that, but we appreciate it,” Amy confirmed. “Hey sir, can we wait while Carol serves her detention? We’d kind of like to take her for a coffee when she’s done here.”

“You don’t need to do that,” I cut in before Mr Arnold could speak. “Tell me where you’re going and I’ll catch up with you later.” I really did not want anyone, not even my best friends, to be watching me standing facing the wall.

“No, we’ll wait,” Amy replied. “Is that okay, sir?”

“If you like,” came the gruff reply, and the three of them sat down at desks in the front row just behind me.

“Are we allowed to speak with Carol, sir?” Becky asked.

“Sure, why not?” Mr Arnold was more interested in his computer than us four girls.

“So, does your butt hurt?” Becky continued.

“Durr! I’ve just had what you three got,” I snapped. “Go figure.”

“Yeah, she’ll be feeling real sore right now,” Donna commented.

“So, what’s the detention for?” Amy asked.

“For not owning up sooner and taking my spanking along with you three,” I replied.

“Gross!” Donna commented.

“I asked to serve a detention,” I confirmed.

“Is this your skirt, Carol?” Amy asked, having sat at the desk where I’d left it.

“It is.”

“So, why aren’t you wearing it?”

“I figured these leggings would be too tight to pass dress code, so I wore the skirt over top, then took it off to be paddled.”

“So, why not just wear jeans or something?”

“I felt I had to get a proper spanking to make things right with you guys, hence the thin leggings. Okay?” Yes, I was beginning to get annoyed with all the questions.

“Wow!” Amy exclaimed. “You really wanted to settle the score, now didn’t you just?”

“You really didn’t have to,” Donna added. “Okay, we were a little put out that we got spanked and you didn’t, but hey, we would have done the same in your shoes.”

“I felt I wanted to,” I replied. “I felt guilty, and now I don’t. Okay?”

“The coffee’s are on us, Carol,” Becky offered.

“And doughnuts too?” I asked, feeling good that things had been sorted out between us.

“Doughnuts too!”

And that’s about the end of the story. I served the remainder of my detention and the girls took me for coffee, treating me like a princess. We were all friends again.

The End

© Carol Christensen 2025