textfiles/sex/EROTICA/J/jeannie.txt

It was a crisp September morning, the first day of school, and 
unlike most of her friends, Jeannie really liked attending her parochial 
school --except that none of the kids on the block in public school ever 
had to have THEIR palms or backsides slapped for misbehavior.

The new 8th-grader was up early, ate a good breakfast, remembered 
to bring her new pencils and notebooks and official looking registration 
papers. She was quite the young lady, even though makeup was not allowed 
at school. She pulled on her blue school jumper and adjusted the 
dark blue knee socks, looked in the mirror and patted the red ribbon in 
here hair until it was just so.

Just as she walked up the steps of the Gothic edifice to God and 
girls' purity, Jeannie felt faint. She couldn't believe what she had 
done in her excitement over the first day of school. It was the sudden autumn
breeze that blew off the lake that made her shudder in outright horror. 

SHE HAD FORGOTTEN TO PUT ON HER UNDERPANTS!

What was she going to do? Too late to run home, and too embarrassing, because
the boys had still not gone off to school, not even Charlie to day
care. Well, she thought, still in that other-world of terror and shame,
"I'll make the best of it."

Jeannie could not keep her mind on class, and especially not on 
the gossip about summer romances. First period, she blushed inwardly every
second. By second period, she was squirming in her hard backed desk chair.  By
third period, everything was confused. She kept patting the jumper
absent-mindedly and shifting in her seat.

God was either very angry with her, or laughing up his billowy 
sleeve, because all that squirming was arousing Jeannie's little 
unshielded pussy.
 
Jostling through the halls to lunch, Jeannie had tried to put her predicament
out of mind, but suddenly she tripped and fell face forward, skinning her
knees. Horror of horrors!!! Her jumper had blossomed 
up in back and her bare fanny was on display, though only for a 
millisecond. She quickly sprang to her feet, prepared to burst into tears. But
nobody apparently had seen.  Except that old battleaxe, Sister Dana.

After a few seconds of composing herself and marching on as if 
nothing had happened, she felt a firm hand on her shoulder. "Jeannie 
Davidson! Into the office, right now!"

Not knowing what to expect, but fearing the worst, Jeannie allowed herself to
be shephered into the austere administrative office.

"You tart! You strumpet!" shouted the nun, shaking Jeannie hard  by the
shoulders. "You whoooore! Why are you not wearing your undergarments?" 
"Please don't talk to me like that, sister. I'm a good girl. I just ...
forgot! Can you believe me!"

The old nun had calmed only a little, remembering that she had 
taught Jeannie's mother long ago and had actually liked her. "I find 
this very hard to believe," she croaked, sounding a little like Agnes 
Moorhead. "You are certainly aware of the dress code! Sweet Mary, this isn't
even a dress code violation!" she spluttered. "Come with me to the rectory,
young lady, and we'll straighten this out."

Missing lunch was bad enough, but Jeannie knew all too well what 
might happen when she was ushered into Father Delaney's office. It was 
there, only two years ago, that she had to climb onto a stool and bend 
over his desk for a mortifying panty-paddling. What would happen now ? 
There WERE no panties to spank!"

Sister Dana conferred quietly with the father, who had the odd 
habit of giving the girls a piece of candy before their spankings. After a 
few minutes, Father Delaney summond Jeannie to the front of his desk.
 
"Jeannie," he began, as Barry Fitzgerald. "You are a bright girl. 
You are a good student. And except for that one time two years ago, you 
have stayed out of trouble. But THIS!! THIS!! You come to school as if 
you were a streetwalker? Shame on you!"

He continued, stroking his chin and absently patting himself  below the
belt: "You have violated every standard of decency, every law of the
Church. Worse, you have violated the dress code by your act of forgetfulness,
if that's what it really was."

"Please, Father," Jeannie pleaded. "I just forgot!"

"We are going to have to set an example so that you remember 
important things, like your undergarments," Sister Dana interjected. "It is 
a darn shame that the parish will not allow us to administer corporal 
punishment on the bare skin, as the Holy Bible admonishes us to do." 

"Oh, thank you, Sister. Thank you, Father," Jeannie gushed.

"Don't thank me too soon, young lady," the old priest retorted. 
"Bend over the desk. I don't think you need the footstool anymore."

"BBBBuuuutttt!" Jeannie protested, her sense of logic now as 
twisted as the old nun's forefinger.

"You shall be spanked over your dress," she announced in triumph 
at the solution the two children of the Church had agreed on.

"Bend over and Sister Dana will hold your jumper tight around 
your legs so that you may feel the rod of correction," Father Delaney said, 
moving to the front of the oak desk.

It couldn't have gotten any darker for Jeannie in that musty sunblocked room
filled with books, religious tracts and (in a secret drawer some magazines
that all priests must look at sometimes).

The Father had pulled from beneath the desk a long willow switch, 
the sight of which made Jeannie begin bawling. "Ppppleasse, Father, 
nnnnottt the ssssssswwwiitcccchhhh!"

"Yes, Jeannie," he said, seemingly with a chuckle. "You shall 
have to feel this because you are wearing no pppann ... you know what you're
not wearing."
 
With that, Sister Dana bent low, sitting on the stool to the poor 
girl's right and tugged the jumper so tight Jeannie's unmentionable rear 
smile was outlined. Father Delaney crossed to the left and raised the 
switch.
 
SSSSSWWWIIIIIIITTTTCCCCCCHHHH! The first stroke landed across 
bothbuttocks. "AAAAAAAAAYIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!" Jeannie exploded.

SSSSSWWWWWWIIIITCCCCCCHHHHH!!!!!!

AAACCCHHHHAAAANNNNNGGGHHHHAWWWWYIIIOWWW! !!

Father Delaney picked up the pace a bit.

SSSSMACCCKK  WWWWHIPPPPP, ssssssWWHIIIPPPP

"Owwww! OWWWW! OWWWWW! My bottom! It hurts! It's on fire!

"Like hellfire, little girl?" Sister Dana snickered.

OWWWWWW!! BBBOOOOOHOOO!! WAAAAAAAAA!!

Jeannie got four more excruciating licks with the switch before 
she was sent home. The sister had called home, but no one was there 
except for Uncle Teddy, who had been visiting.

It seemed an eternity before cuddly Uncle Teddy arrived to take 
her home. No words were spoken; Jeannie was still sobbing 15 minutes after the
whipping had ended.

As they walked into the house, Jeannie burst into paroxysms of 
sobs. "I'm so ashamed, Uncle Teddy. I'm so STUPID!" she cried. "I'll never 
live this down."
 
A new terror struck Jeannie's pure heart. What will Daddy do when 
he finds out. Uncle Teddy could read her mind. "Don't worry, dear. I know 
Father Delaney quite well, and he assured me that he would not say a 
word if you took your punishment well -- and he thinks you did."

A sigh so deep it could have resurrected the Hindenburg rushed 
from Jeannie's lungs. Relief.

"However," Uncle Teddy continued. "I was pretty embarrassed 
myself, and if I were your dad, I'd give it to you plenty good."

"Oh, thank you for not saying anything," Jeannie said, a bit 
uncomfortable at her uncle's last statement.

"In fact," he said, after a brief pause, "for shaming me, I think 
I will give you a spanking. A little spanking just to show you I, too, 
care about you." 

"WHAT?" screamed Jeannie. "Not another one!!"

"I won't hurt you badly, perhaps not at all," Uncle Teddy cooed. 
"Compared to what you went through at the hands of those two old wretches, it
won't be bad at all. Come over here."

Jeannie did as she was told, still stunned; still sore; still 
mildly aroused by the breezes of fate that whispered up her dress.

Her uncle guided her to Dad's chair -- the awful spanking chair 
-- and gently placed her over his lap. "Are you ready, now, dear?"

"Yyyyesss, Uncle Teddy. Please don't do it hard. I'm still soooo 
sore." 

"I can see that," he said, slipping her jumper up over her 
flaming bottom to her waist. "I shan't be too severe."

Then the second spanking of the school year began.

Spank, Spank, Spank, Spank, Spank, Teddy began softly.

Jeannie did not protest much, uttering only a few muffled cries. 
Spank, smack, smack, smack, spank, spank.

By now, his naughty niece was feeling it, and she began to cry 
steadily, but softly. Her instinct took over, and she began wiggling away 
from his hand. As she did so, the jumper still scrunched beneath her to 
protect some of her modesty, began rubbing against the downy hair that 
had sprouted only two years earlier. 

"Ohhhh!" she moaned. "Ohhhhh! Aaaahhhh!" It was a wickedly 
strange throaty wail that emanated from deep in her soul, a reaction to both
the rapid spanking she knew she was getting and the mounting climax she had
not fully known of before.

At last, Uncle Teddy slowed down, allowing his hard right hand to 
linger on each of Jeannie's pretty red cheeks after each smack. Finally, 
he just rested it there and began gently rubbing.

Jeannie, not knowing how to control her hormones, began crying 
again, even though the spanking had stopped. Then she began moaning; then 
panting. When it was over, both Jeannie AND Uncle Teddy were a bit ashamed of
themselves, and neither mentioned it again.

From then on, Jeannie always remembered to put her panties on, 
although on dreamy autumn evenings, in bed alone, she often recalled the 
memorable day she forgot.