Like, how many people does it take to spank a seventeen-year-old girl?

Okay, I attend a private all-girls school in northern California and, unlike public schools, they occasionally resort to corporal punishment when someone has been really bad. My sin was to use a crib sheet in a test, and I got caught.

So, there we are in VP Atkinson’s office. There’s Mr Atkinson. Well, he has to be there because he is the appointed spanker. I have to be there too, because my butt is the one that has to receive the five swats, according to the rules and what Mr Atkinson said yesterday. Miss Derby is a thirty-something languages teacher and she has been asked to attend to serve as a witness. All spankings at this school require a witness.

So far, I have no objection. Mr Atkinson is known to be a hard spanker, but there is no one else permitted to spank, so I just have to accept this is not going to be something to look forward to. It’s going to hurt and my butt is going to be real sore afterwards. Miss Derby is a teacher I know. She took me for my Spanish class last year. She was always nice to me and I will not feel embarrassed when she watches me getting spanked. Actually, that’s not true. I will feel mortified; it’s just she’s better than some I could mention.

But, also in the room is Miss Prince. She is a student teacher, probably no more than two years older than me, and she has asked to witness a school paddling so she knows what happens. I mean, what did she expect was going to happen? A girl, me in this particular case, was going to bend over so VP Atkinson could deliver five swats to my backside. I will say she did ask me if I minded her presence, and on the spur of the moment I replied that it was okay.

Finally, my mother is there. That’s another school procedure; when the school wants to spank a student they inform the parents beforehand and give them the option of being present when the spanking is carried out. I mean, surely getting spanked is bad enough, but having your mother watch it? That’s gross! Last night, mom and me had quite a discussion when she said that she would be there. Dad is away, so it was mom who gave her permission for them to paddle me. She said it was what I deserved, but she wanted to make sure they did not punish me excessively. Yet, when I told her Mr Atkinson was known to be a hard spanker she said that was okay. Mothers!

So, there we were, the five of us all crammed into Mr Atkinson’s small office. Like, there was his desk, his chair, three filing cabinets three smaller chairs for visitors, and an industrial-type carpet. I’d guess his room was no more than twenty feet square. I’m standing in front of his desk while he sits in his chair and reminds me why I’m there, as if I forgot or something. Miss Derby and Miss Prince are standing at the side of his desk watching my every reaction, or so it seems. My mom is standing next to me like she is also in line for a paddling, although the sour looks she gives me kind of feels like she wishes she was going to be swinging the paddle.

“As we discussed yesterday, Ms Cole, I’ll be administering five licks as your punishment for cheating in a test.”

Durr! I knew that already! That’s why we’re all here.

“Yes, sir,” I say. I don’t know why I even replied.

Then Mr Atkinson asks mom, “Mrs Cole, would you please confirm you have given your authority for Carol to receive five swats as her punishment for cheating in a test?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” mom answers. “You may spank her.”

Mom then had to sign a form Mr Atkinson had ready on his desk.

I was already nervous, and getting reminded of my punishment did not help. Then Mr Atkinson stood up and that’s where I got really scared. We were getting close to what I was dreading. He went over to the filing cabinets, reached down into a lower drawer, and extracted the paddle.

He came and sat on the front edge of his desk, putting him and the paddle right up close to me. I looked at it and saw a piece of wood, quite light in color, about twenty inches long including the handle, four inches wide and perhaps a half inch thick. The paddle had been painted with a glossy varnish, but part of it had been worn away, somewhere in the middle of the blade part. I surely was not the first to get the benefit of that kind of learning experience.

Mr Atkinson looked at me and asked, “Are you ready, Ms Cole?”

I mean, what was I supposed to say? What if I said no? What would he do then? Give me a few minutes? What for? To compose myself? I felt everyone looking at me, eager to hear my answer.

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, please stand away from the desk and face the wall to your left.” His voice was calm, like the instruction had nothing to do with the execution of my punishment.

It meant mom had to take several paces back to give me the space. Mr Atkinson got off his desk and stood behind me and a little to my left. The two teachers were left standing behind me, where they’d get a good view of my butt. I saw mom shifting around so she could see my face.

“Please bend over and grab hold of your shins, Ms Cole.”

Mr Atkinson still sounded very calm, but a bit loud. Did he want everyone to hear? I’m sure they could. I bent over and grabbed my shins through the white cotton pants I was wearing. I had intended to wear jeans with back pockets, but mom forbade me. These cotton pants had no back pockets, so just the one layer plus my panties between the paddle and my butt.

I felt the paddle touching my backside, kind of rubbing in a circular motion. I braced myself, knowing that at any moment Mr Atkinson would pull the paddle back and then slam it across the seat of my pants. Seconds later, it happened and I felt pain, severe pain, across my entire butt. Strike one!

With my backside still smarting, I felt the paddle rubbing against my butt for a second time. I locked my whole body and waited, not very long. The paddle struck my buttocks in about the same place and I hurt just like the first swing. I had intended to take my spanking bravely and not cry out or burst into tears, but there were two little trickles down the side of my face.

Mr Atkinson rubbed my butt with the paddle and quickly crashed it against my butt for the third swing. It hurt intensively, just like the previous two, and made me sway forward. More tears dripped down the sides of my face.

My butt was seriously sore by this point, and I hardly felt the paddle rub the seat of my pants before I got the fourth spank. It made me lurch forward and it hurt like all the others. I had to take a step back to position myself again, and almost immediately the paddle swiped across my butt. I grunted loudly and my tears were in full flow, but I’d taken my spanking and I felt great relief it was all over. I stayed bent over, though. I somehow needed permission to stand upright. Whatever, Mr Atkinson soon gave his consent.

My first thought was to rub my backside rigorously, not that I’m sure now that was the best thing to do. Then, mom was holding out a cotton handkerchief for me to dry my eyes and wipe down the sides of my face. In the background I heard Mr Atkinson thanking Miss Derby and Miss Prince for their services after which they left the room.

Mr Atkinson put a hand on my shoulder, and then went over to the filing cabinets to return the paddle. He leant over his desk and wrote me out a slip that allowed me to leave school directly. I reckon there were only another ten minutes or so before the school day ended, so it was not greatly generous. Then, before I knew it, mom and I were out in the parking lot heading for mom’s car.

Mom has an SUV and getting up into the front passenger seat stretched my pants over my butt and I really knew I’d been spanked! I reckon I felt every bump in the road on the journey home. When we got inside the house, mom took me into the kitchen and made me take down my pants and underwear so she could look at my butt. She said it was really red and sore, with purple circles on each buttock where the full force of the paddle had struck me.

At school the following day, I got teased. Everyone seemed to know I’d been spanked.

The End

© Carol Christensen 2025