Tara Heathfield got into her mother’s SUV and slammed the door just hard enough for her mother to know she was not happy, but not so hard to get herself into trouble. More trouble, that is. Slamming doors was part of Tara’s repertoire and she had become quite skillful. Tara took a last lingering look at her Mustang, her beloved Mustang convertible, parked on their front drive, before they set off for school, a silent tension pervading the atmosphere as they set off.

“Mom, I was thinking. Would it be okay for me to lie face down across the back seat this afternoon when you collect me from school?”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Durr! Because I’m getting paddled at three o’clock?”

“What? Don’t be such a drama queen! You’re getting five licks. I’m totally sure you’ll be able to sit properly on the car seat.”

“I’m not. It’s going to hurt real bad! And Lynsie Davies says Mr Dickman paddles hard, like real hard.”

“Lynsie has previous experience, does she?”

“Well no, but she knows someone who knows someone who did get paddled last semester, and they said it really hurt.”

“That’s probably a good thing. Let’s face it, if you hadn’t taken part in spray painting those classrooms and generally making a mess of the school building, then you wouldn’t be getting paddled today, now would you?”

“It was just a bit of fun for homecoming, that’s all.”

“Maybe try something a little less destructive next year, huh? It will be kinder for your butt.”

“Maybe.”

“How many of you are getting paddled?”

“Eight girls and eleven boys.”

“Out of how many?”

“Twenty-eight. Four girls chose suspension instead, and about five boys did the same. The boys are getting done by Mr Hawkes. He’s one of the football coaches.”

“And you eight girls are getting it from Mr Dickman. Couldn’t they have used a female VP?”

“There’s only Mrs Williams, and she’s still on sick leave following her auto accident.” “Okay.”

“I’m really not looking forward to three o’clock!”

“I don’t suppose you’d look forward to any kind of punishment, would you?”

“No, I guess not.”

“At least with it being done at three o’clock you won’t have to sit through your classes with a sore bottom.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“Well, we’ll see. Remember you could have chosen the five day suspension too.”

“Yes, but you’d have taken my car keys for the week.”

“So that you served your suspension stuck indoors rather than out in your car having fun. And maybe as a little extra punishment on top.”

“Okay, here we are,” Ashleigh Heathfield said as she pulled in just outside the school building. “Have a nice day darlin’!”

“Huh!”

****

At fourteen minutes to three, Lynsie Davies and Tara Heathfield put their school stuff away in their lockers.

“Are you ready? We’d better be getting along to Mr Dickman’s office,” Lynsie suggested.

“I guess so. God, I’m really not looking forward to this,” Tara replied.

“Me neither, but it’s got to be done. And being late isn’t going to help.”

“I suppose we could still take the suspension instead,” Tara suggested. “It probably isn’t too late to change our minds.”

“You think? How are the other girls going to feel? You know, those who are expecting us to take our places in the line with them? How are they going to view it when we tell them we’re not getting spanked?”

“They could change their minds too. No one has to be paddled.”

“Tara, don’t do it. We all knew the risks when we got involved in the spray painting. If we got recognized, we knew we were in for a paddling. It was a risk we were all willing to take. It kind of added spice to the occasion. Okay, a few have backed out, but we don’t want to look cowardly along with them, now do we?” “I guess not.”

“Right. So let’s get going and get our backsides paddled.”

“Okay, I guess you’re right.”

They walked through the hallways leading to the school principal’s office, no one paying them much attention. When they arrived just outside Mr Dickman’s office, two girls were already there. They smiled weakly at each other.

“I’m just so nervous,” one girl, Daisy Carter, said. “I’ve never been paddled before.”

“I see we’re all wearing jeans,” Tara returned. “I guess we all think jeans will give better protection, huh?”

No one replied.

“Have any of you been paddled before?” asked a new arrival, a tall girl called Amy Wainwright.

Everyone shook their heads.

“I don’t think any of us on the list have,” Lynsie said. “That kind of makes it worse.”

After several more minutes, all eight girls due to be paddled were standing outside the principal’s office. Some deep breathing was just about the only sound now. And then footsteps came from the end of the hallway where the secretaries’ station was.

“Okay, let’s see if you are all here,” said Alicia Thomson, a blond-haired lady in her mid-twenties who had joined the school as a junior secretary just six months earlier. She held up a list and started calling out names.

“Yes, ma’am,” they each replied when they heard their name called.

“Are you witnessing ma’am?” One of the other girls asked.

“Yes, I am. Is that a problem, Coleen?”

“No ma’am, no problem, except it’s usually one of the older secretaries that does the witnessing.”

“You think I can’t manage to watch you girls getting your butts spanked?”

“No, ma’am. I’m sure you can,” Coleen confirmed.

Alicia Thomson smiled, then tapped on Mr Dickman’s door, entered the office and closed the door behind her.

The girls out in the hallway could hear faint mumblings of conversation inside, but exactly what was being said was undistinguishable. None of the girls outside spoke, all of them preferring to mentally prepare for their ordeal individually. And then the door suddenly opened.

“Can we have Priscilla Whately please?” Alicia Thomson stood in the doorway until Priscilla, a slightly over-weight girl with her brown hair woven into a single long pigtail, reluctantly acknowledged her name.

“Come on in, Priscilla,” the secretary invited. “Don’t look so glum. At least you’re getting it over with first.”

The door closed behind them, the murmurings of conversation started up again, and then fell silent. Five loud bangs, with just a second or two separating them, confirmed Priscilla was suffering her punishment. After a couple of minutes more conversation, the door opened and Priscilla emerged with several tears trickling down each side of her face.

“God!” was all she said as she started back along the hallway, her right hand gently brushing the seat of her blue jeans.

“Well, that’s encouraging. Not!” said one of the girls.

Tara and Lynsie just looked at each other.

The door opened again, and Alicia Thomson called, “Sandra Morgan, please.”

Sandra, a small blond girl, looked anxiously at the young secretary for what seemed a long time, but in reality was only a few seconds.

“Sandra Morgan? Which of you is Sandra Morgan?” Alicia Thomson looked from face to face, until she spotted Sandra looking even more nervous than the others. “Sandra?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Come on then. It’ll soon be over.”

With the young secretary holding the door open for her, Sandra realised there was no way she could delay things any further. She hesitantly stepped forward and allowed herself to be escorted into the office. The door closed. More low sounds of conversation were followed by another five loud bangs just a few seconds apart. After a slightly longer delay, Sandra came out into the hallway in a flood of tears. Someone tried to comfort her, but she shook them away and almost ran down the hallway rubbing her backside.

“Zoe McGregor, please,” Alicia called through a half-opened door.

Red-headed Zoe, a tall girl and athletically robust, stepped forward without any hesitation. After a short time, the five loud bangs resonated through the closed door. Moments later, Zoe emerged.

“Mr Dickman sure does know how to spank,” Zoe said to no one in particular, giving her backside a rub over the seat of her jeans.

None of the remaining girls could think of a suitable reply, so Zoe walked back down the hallway.

“Lynsie Davies, please.”

“Oh my god!” Lynsie exclaimed, looking at Tara for some sign of hope, but Tara had none to offer.

“Good luck!” Tara mumbled as Lynsie headed for the open door.

The door closed yet again, leaving Lynsie to face her punishment, and Tara to wonder how her friend was coping.

Several minutes, and five loud bangs later, Lynsie emerged from the office and closed the door behind her. She was crying openly.

“Bad?” Tara asked.

Lynsie nodded and started back along the hallway without saying a word. Soon, another girl was called into the office. Sounds of the spanking were heard by the few remaining girls and then that girl left in tears and without speaking. Tara knew her moment must be getting very close now.

“Tara Heathfield, please.” Alicia Thomson called from a half-open door. “Tara?” “That’s me,” Tara replied, running a hand through her shoulder-length dark hair. “Come on in, Tara.”

Tara teetered into the office on legs that struggled to carry her. She immediately saw the figure of Mr Dickman, a tall, thin man with a mainly bald head flanked by oiled black hair at the sides. He was standing by the front of his desk and holding a wooden paddle that seemed quite slender, maybe just three inches across and a blade fifteen inches long, plus a round handle about eight inches long. In the clear area of floor beyond the desk stood a small office chair with a metal frame and foam upholstered seat and back.

“Tara, I need you to confirm you’ve chosen to be paddled rather than take suspension,” Mr Dickman said in a calm, composed voice.

Tara knew this was her last chance to back out of the spanking. Images of her Mustang convertible parked on the driveway for a whole week flashed through her mind, as did the hostile attitude she’d have to expect from the girls who did take their spankings. She’d already gone too far with the process. Her mother was expecting her to be paddled, her friends also expected her to be paddled, and what would the remaining girls outside think if they didn’t soon hear five bangs?

“Um, yes sir. I’ve chosen to take the paddling.”

“Okay, Tara. Now, please check the back pockets of your jeans and make sure they are empty. If you find anything, you can leave it on my desk.”

Tara slipped both hands into the back pockets and confirmed to herself there was nothing in them. She removed her hands from the pockets.

“Both empty, sir.”

“Okay. Please bend over the back of the chair you see ahead of you. Push your head down low onto the seat and push your behind back. Do you understand what I need you to do?”

“Yes, sir.” Tara did indeed understand. He wanted her to assume a position that would stretch her jeans tight across her bottom and provide him with the best possible target to administer a hard spanking.

She knew she was going to obey. She almost wanted to cooperate fully. Yet, despite acknowledging she understood what was required of her, Tara didn’t move. She continued staring at the chair.

“When you’re ready, Tara,” Mr Dickman prompted.

“Sorry, sir. This is a whole new experience for me, sir.”

“Take your time, Tara.”

Tara rubbed her hands together. This was it. Inside thirty seconds, not much more, the spanking would start and it would hurt. She would cry. Tears would be running down her face and her bottom would hurt, badly. But she couldn’t back out now. She’d gone too far and it would be just too awkward to handle. Somehow, she staggered forward and completed the three or four steps needed to stand at the back of the chair. She stood and looked down at the thinly padded seat.

Her hands nervously gripped the top rail. Leaning forward slightly, the seat looked a long way down. She leaned over more. Her hands moved from the back rail to the metal rail at the front of the chair, below the upholstery. She gripped it tightly and eased herself down until her eyes were below the level of the front rail and she could see some of the floor behind her.

“Is this okay, sir?” Tara asked nervously, feeling her jeans were skintight around her bottom. She didn’t think it was possible to present her bottom any better. Surely she must be offering herself adequately for the spanking.

“That’s fine, Tara,” Mr Dickman confirmed. “Now, hold good and still, and this will be soon over with.”

Looking back, underneath the chair, Tara could see Mr Dickman moving around behind her. Her spanking could only be seconds away. Any moment now, that paddle would slam against her bottom and she would be in immense pain.

The wooden paddle tapped Tara’s bottom several times. And then the tapping stopped. Suddenly, a loud bang echoed round the room and Tara felt her bottom was on fire. She’d hardly had time to sense the tremendous agony before another loud bang delivered a fresh shock to her bottom. Another swat came, and then another. Tara’s mind was in turmoil, and she gripped the leading edge of the chair frame for all she was worth.

“Aaahh!” She cried as a fifth stroke of the paddle slammed into her bottom.

“Okay, Tara, you’re done.”

What? Tara stayed bending over the back of the chair, unaware of what was happening.

“Come on, Tara,” Miss Thomson was saying somewhere behind Tara. “Up you get.”

Tara began easing herself up. Her left hand and then her right went to the seat of her jeans and began rubbing the severe pain she felt in both buttocks. Only now did Tara become aware of the salty tears running down her face. Miss Thomson handed her a tissue.

“Let’s get you out of here,” the young secretary said as she took Tara by the shoulder.

Tara found herself being led towards the door before she was really prepared to face the world and the girls waiting outside, and then Miss Thomson started opening it. Tara put the damp tissue in a front pocket and clasped her hands to her sides as the open door beckoned her to go through, and she saw the remaining girls staring at her. She walked straight past them, avoiding eye contact, and headed back along the hallway. Despite a great yearning to rub her sore and painful bottom, Tara kept her hands devoutly to her sides, refusing to show those girls any sign of having just been spanked.

Back at the lockers, Tara expected to find Lynsie waiting for her. She wasn’t, so Tara collected the books she’d need for homework and went through the now deserted school and out into the parking lot where her mother’s SUV was one of the few remaining vehicles. Tara opened the front passenger door and threw her books onto the back seat before climbing in alongside her mother.

“I thought you were going to lie face down across the back seat, honey,” her mother greeted her.

“Huh!”

“But you’ve had your spanking? Right?”

“Yes, mother! Yes, I have had five really hard strokes of the paddle applied to the seat of my jeans and my bottom is really hurting and feeling very sore. Okay? Are you satisfied?”

“We’ll see.” Mrs Heathfield grinned as she started the car, selected ‘drive’ and moved the car forward.

They didn’t speak much on the journey home. Mrs Heathfield drove smoothly and gently, and left it to Tara to start a conversation if she wished. She took several inconspicuous glances at her daughter, and could see Tara was deep in thought.

Back home, Tara rushed straight up to her room without speaking. Mrs Heathfield gave her several minutes before following her daughter up the stairs. She tapped softly on Tara’s bedroom door.

“Leave me alone!” Tara sounded both angry and tearful.

Mrs Heathfield slowly pushed the door part way open and peered inside. Tara was lying face down on her bed, her head resting on her folded arms.

“What do you want?” Tara asked tersely as she sensed the door opening and looked around.

“Look, I know you’re sore, but we need to do one final thing to finalize the deal.”

“What deal?”

“The deal that says you get to keep your car keys if you took the paddling.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Sure I do, but I just need to check. Okay?” Mrs Heathfield dangled Tara’s car keys as an extra incentive.

“Okay! What do I have to do?”

“Just undo your jeans and slip them down along with your panties, honey. I just need a quick look. You can stay lying down on your bed.”

“Huh!”

Tara reached under herself and unbuttoned the waistband of the jeans. The jeans immediately loosened. By raising her hips off the bed, Tara was able to slide the zip down, and the jeans became even more slack. She pushed them down to her thighs and then slipped her blue and white polka-dot panties down too.

“There, now you can have a good look at my butt. Okay?”

“Wow! You’ve certainly been spanked, honey.”

“Is it real bad, mom? It really hurt when Mr Dickman paddled me.”

“You’ve got a pretty good set of bruises there, darling.”

“So, I get my car keys back?”

“You do.”

Mrs Heathfield took the keys from her pocket and placed them on a small table by the side of Tara’s bed.

“Thanks, mom.”

Her mother sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I’m sorry, honey, but you need to learn that having fun is fine, but causing damage that’s expensive to fix is not.”

“Yes, I get that, mom.”

“Good.”

As Mrs Heathfield got up to leave, she patted her daughter’s naked bottom.

“Ow! Mom!”

The End

© Kenny Walters 2023