So, moms can be great, right? They can be handy when that boy you set your heart on for the prom takes some blond bitch from your class instead. They’re great for a loan, at least sometimes, and even a ride down to the mall on Saturdays. But they have drawbacks. Today is a drawback day.

“Yes, mom. I know me and Angie shouldn’t have skipped class. I know even the boring classes will be good for our futures. Yes, I know we have to be punished. But why should we be punished with a boring Saturday detention for skipping a boring couple of classes? Why can’t you just sign the damn consent form?”

You get the picture, right? Me and my bestie skipped classes, got found out, and got a referral to Mr Benson, our vice-principal in charge of welfare and discipline. Who put those two items together? Never mind. Of course, we got the standard, “Well ladies, you have a choice between Saturday detention and five licks.”

Naturally, Angie and I both wanted our Saturday intact for shopping and hanging out and stuff. So, after we suggested to Mr Benson that we might trouble him to paddle our behinds, he handed us both consent forms for our parents to sign and authorize him to duly spank us. Unfortunately, my daddy is away on business until the middle of next week. He’d have signed without hesitation, but mom has to be difficult, doesn’t she?

“I’m a little doubtful about the merit of two seventeen-year-old girls being paddled by a male vice-principal, Karen,” mom said after I’d laid the form on the kitchen table along with a pen for her to use. How could I be more helpful?

“What difference does it make?” I replied. “Male or female, all they gotta do is whack a wooden paddle across both our behinds. I can think of at least two female teachers who can spank harder than most males. And anyway, there’ll be a female witness in the room. That’s the rules.”

“Don’t you feel you’re too, well, too old to be spanked like naughty children?”

“Mom, I just go by the rules. If the rules say I can choose between Saturday detention and a paddling, then I make a choice. I chose the paddling, okay? What’s the big deal?”

“Well, you know I’ve never really favored spanking as a punishment.”

“Excuse me! I have a very clear memory of staring down at that floor right there while I lay face-down across your lap and you tanned my behind on at least two occasions.”

“Only when you were younger and had been very naughty!”

“Well I’ve been very naughty this time too, and the school has a similar remedy.”

“Yes, but they’ll use a wooden paddle. I just used my hand.”

“And the plastic sole of an old flip-flop when I borrowed some money from your purse once.”

“Borrowed without paying back is called stealing, Karen. Hey, did you ever pay me back?”

“Loads of times, mom! It’s called chores. So, are you going to sign the damn form?”

“What’s Angie’s mom going to do?”

“Her father will if her mom won’t. Hell, they even keep a paddle of their own down in the basement. Angie’ll have the consent form signed, no problem.”

“I guess we can’t have you in Saturday detention while she gets a spanking, can we? Okay, I’ll sign.”

Finally! That was, like, ten minutes out of my life for no reason. I mean, I’m seventeen, for goodness sakes, surely I’m old enough to decide for myself whether I want to spend Saturday sitting in school doing nothing or have my ass whopped!

So, when I got on the school bus and sat next to Angie we kind of nodded discreetly to each other and dug into our bags to show each other we had signed forms.

“You reckon he’ll paddle us real hard?” Angie whispered in my ear. Was she looking to back out?

“Yup,” I replied quietly, so no one else would hear. That said, it’s an old bus with a large diesel engine, so we could probably have shouted, “We’re getting paddled!” and the chances of being overheard were not good, but a girl can’t be too careful.

Angie nodded in reply. Then I guess we settled down to our own thoughts.

It was when we were in the hall checking our lockers that Angie suggested, “Hey, we’ve both got gym classes to start with. Then we’ve got a private study period. Let’s get us a workout and then go see Mr Benson and get it over with.”

I shrugged. “Hey, we could not bother to change and go get our asses paddled wearing just tiny thin gym shorts! Mr Benson might like that.”

“Er, yes, I’m sure he might. But those tiny shorts are also very thin shorts. He hits hard enough without making it easier for him.”

“Oh, okay.”

Now, y’all may be thinking I’m making light of the impending punishment we’re facing. It’s called hysteria, or something like that. I’m dreading reporting to Mr Benson; seriously. He is going to roast our butts without a doubt, and it is going to hurt. And I’m scared, even with a gym class, which I enjoy, between now and our time of doom. Maybe I can concentrate on the plus of having Saturday free between then and now.

It didn’t really work. All through gym I kept looking at the old clock hung high up on one wall. What was usually an enjoyable time just didn’t work out that way. Too much tension, I guess. When Angie and I took to the showers, we heard the other girls all squeaking and screaming and fooling around, at least until Mrs Gabriel came and quietened them down, but we just washed ourselves down and headed for our towels.

We dressed. Not surprisingly, both Angie and I wore jeans; hers in faded blue, mine in light tan. Mine were relatively new, hence the thickest pair I had. Angie’s, not so much.

Having stowed our gym gear in our hall lockers, we made our way to the administrative area and checked in at the secretaries’ station.

“Is Mr Benson free?” Angie asked politely when a forty-something blond woman with a ponytail acknowledged our presence at the counter.

The secretary tapped away at a computer, then looked up.

“You girls here for paddlings?” she asked.

A couple of other secretaries must have overheard because they suddenly looked up. They seemed keen to hear Angie’s answer.

“Yes, ma’am.”

I saw Angie’s cheeks flush and I guess mine did the same. The secretary simply tapped some more on her keyboard, paused, then tapped some more. Then she went to the end of the counter so she could come out into the hall with Angie and me.

“Follow me.”

I felt everyone looking at us as we followed this woman along the corridor that we knew led to the vice-principal’s offices. It wasn’t a long walk and we stopped outside Mr Benson’s office door. The secretary knocked and pushed the door open to peer inside. I guess she was waved in because next moment she was holding the door wide open for Angie and me to enter. We stood side-by-side in front of Mr Benson’s desk looking like two naughty schoolgirls about to be spanked. Blond secretary stood to one side.

“So, ladies, do you have forms for me?” Mr Benson asked.

Angie and I both handed over our signed consent forms, which Mr Benson studied carefully. Did he really think we would forge our moms’ signatures just so we could get us a spanking? Did people really do that? Well, maybe, thinking back to the fuss I went through with my mom.

“One of you needs to go wait out in the hall while I deal with the other one,” Mr Benson announced as he stood up and pushed his chair back.

Angie and I looked at each other. I kind of wanted to go first and get it over with, but I guess she was standing just that bit nearer to the center of the desk and I got that look that says, “Go wait out in the hall.” I turned and quietly left the room.

I looked up and down the hall. It was basically deserted, except that at the secretaries’ station end a couple of secretaries looked back at me as I waited. I heard conversation inside Mr Benson’s office, both him and Angie taking turns to speak, but it wasn’t loud enough for me to make out what was being said. I didn’t really understand why I had to wait outside anyways. It wouldn’t have bothered me to see Angie getting spanked, nor for her to see me get it.

Finally, after what seemed a lot longer than necessary, I heard the five slowly applied loud pops I was waiting to hear. I might have also detected a couple of cries, all of which confirmed Angie was finally getting spanked. Fine. But my turn must surely be due any moment. I stared at the door, waiting for it to open, and hoping it never did.

It took at least three minutes before I saw the door being pulled part-open, and Angie, tears in her eyes, slowly peeled herself out into the hall. She stood in front of me, tears rolling down her face and both hands reaching behind for her butt.

“You done?” Silly question, but the best I could manage. I wasn’t expecting so many tears.

“You can go in,” she replied.

I nodded. I wasn’t in any rush to enter, but I knew I had to, and I knew I had to do it, like now!

I side-stepped Angie and went inside the office. Mr Benson and blond secretary were waiting, him to the left, her to the right. The center portion of his desk was clear, nice pale wood, and left no doubt where I would be any moment from now.

“It’s five licks, Miss McAdams. This is your last chance to back out and take the Saturday detention.”

“My mom signed the form, sir,” I argued.

“That just gives me permission to spank you. I don’t have to do it if you’d prefer to take the detention.”

I hesitated. So many thoughts went through my mind in the space of barely a second or two. No, Angie had been spanked. I couldn’t face my best friend and tell her I’d chickened out on her.

“Thank you, sir, but I’d still like to take the spanking, sir.” That sounds brave, doesn’t it? Actually, my voice was so shaky I wondered if he understood. He did though.

“Okay, Miss McAdams, check the back pockets of your pants are empty. Place anything you find on my desk.”

I knew he’d ask, but it still felt embarrassing to search the back pockets of my jeans, knowing I was doing it to make sure I would gain no advantage by having something like folded paper between the seat of my jeans and the impact of the paddle.

“Nothing in my pockets, sir.”

“Good to hear. Now, please bend over my desk and get right down so your forearms are flat on the surface. Stick your butt out for me.”

I knew what he wanted even though the only other time I’d been paddled was outside a class in the hall and I just had to bend over and grab my shins. I leaned down across his desk and rested my upper body on the hard surface. I flattened both forearms and rested the side of my face between my hands before wriggling around a little and pushing my behind back so my jeans stretched tight.

“Just bend your knees a touch, please Miss McAdams.”

I did, and my jeans were even more tightly stretched.

“That’s fine, Miss McAdams. Now hold still and let’s get this done.”

Concentrating on all this fussing around to make a perfect target of my butt somehow spared me a few moments’ worry about how much it was going to hurt. Now, though, pain was my sole concern.

It took no more than eight or nine seconds for Mr Benson to spank my backside five times. The pain was indescribably intense every time the paddle struck my behind. The paddle is solid wood with no give in it. It’s bound to hurt, especially when applied with vigor, like I’m sure Mr Benson used. Then, I guess that’s the whole idea of doing it.

I hardly heard him say something like, “Okay, Miss McAdams. That’s your five licks. You may leave whenever you are ready.”

I was more conscious of blond secretary pushing a wad of tissues in my face, which I took gratefully and began wiping away my tears. Not a lot more was said, and I sneaked out of his office much like Angie had done, peering up and down the hall to make sure no one was watching me.

I was a little surprised not to find Angie waiting for me, but I guess she was as keen to get to the bathroom and sort herself out as I was now. It meant going past the secretaries’ station, and I knew they all looked at me, but I just ignored them. I’m sure I wasn’t the only girl to be in tears after being spanked.

A few minutes washing my face and re-applying my make-up got me feeling only a little revived. I was on my own, so I quickly lowered my jeans and panties so I could check my backside in the long mirror that ran along the front wall. Guess what. It was well bruised and sore-looking, just as much as it felt. I can’t say sitting down was impossible during the remainder of the school day because anyway I wouldn’t have been allowed to stand, but I sure knew I’d had a good spanking right through to the school bus journey home.

As usual, I sat next to Angie and we kind of exchanged notes, keeping our voices low as possible. At least we could plan Saturday without working around detention.

Back home, mom was still out, so I stripped off and lay face-down on my bed with a cold wash-cloth dampened with cold water and placed across my butt. About an hour later, I heard mom come home, so I quickly got dressed and went downstairs. She was in the kitchen making coffee.

“So?” Mom asked.

“So, what?”

“How did your spanking go, stupid?”

“Oh, the spanking? It went fine, mom.”

“No problem?”

“No. Mr Benson took careful aim and he managed to hit my butt all five times.”

“Quit the bravado, honey. School spankings hurt. They’re meant to. Has it bruised you very badly?”

“More than I thought it would, actually mom. But I’ll live, I guess.”

“So, you’re going to be nice to me all evening?”

“Why?”

“So I don’t haul you across my lap and apply a spanking of my own!”

I blushed.

“You wouldn’t do that, right?”

Mom just looked at me.

The End

© Carol Christensen 2026