textfiles/sex/EROTICA/P/paddling.txt

     Patricia's Paddling

    It was late on a Friday afternoon and one of the last
football games of the season for Austin High reached a climax
as the school's star player scored another touchdown.  If they
could only maintain this lead they would be through to the
final of the schools' tournament!  On the touchline seventeen
year old Patricia Garfield, Austin's principal cheerleader,
danced up and down in her enthusiasm.  If the team won she
would lead the procession of cheerleaders out in the massive
town stadium on final's day with  the eyes of everyone upon
her.  This had been her ambition for as long as she could
remember.

    The lead was maintained.  The cheers were deafening and
Patricia threw her pompom sticks high into the air in
celebration.  She could not control her excitement and as the
defeated team trooped off disconsolately she jeered at them:
"We screwed you, you fuckers!"

    Unfortunately for Patricia her thoughtless words were
overheard by Mr Grant, one of the Austin teachers.  He grabbed
her and marched her off to the principal's office.

    Mr Louvish, the principal, was disgusted when he heard of
the language Patricia had used.  He told the girl that she
would not now be allowed to represent the school at the Final. 
Almost in tears, Patricia pleaded with him.  She said that she
never used words like that normally (this was true) and that
it was only because she'd been so excited.  She told him that
it had always been her ambition to lead the school
cheerleaders at a major event.  Mr Louvish began to feel sorry
for her but he told her that she had been representing the
school that afternoon and had let everybody down and he had no
choice except to impose a severe punishment.

    Patricia continued to implore him, asking if there was any
other punishment she could be given.  At last he gave way,
saying that there would be one acceptable alternative. 
Patricia could be sent to the deputy principal for a paddling. 
These punishments were always carried out after school on
Friday afternoons.  Theoretically all pupils in the school
were liable to these but in practice it was rare for fifteen
year olds and above to be punished in this way.

    Nearly all of the boys in Patricia's class had felt the
sting of the school paddle at one time or another before they
left the ninth grade, but probably only about a quarter of the
girls.  Patricia herself had never been sent for a paddling,
but she was no stranger to corporal punishment - her bottom
had several times felt the hard back of the hairbrush her
mother favoured, although the last time was over two years
before.  It was humiliating but, Patricia thought, preferable. 
She agreed.

    Mr Louvish looked at his watch.  "That's lucky," he said. 
"Mr DiMarco will be carrying out his corrections right now." 
He wrote a brief note, put it in an envelope, sealed it and
then handed it to Patricia, telling her to report to Mr
DiMarco for her punishment.

    The deputy's office was two corridors away from that of
the principal.  As it came in sight Patricia saw a short queue
of four pupils, three boys and a girl, waiting outside.  No
one said a word as she joined the end of the line.  There was
a strict 'No talking' rule outside that office.  None of the
others imagined that the seventeen year old, still wearing her
cheerleader's outfit was there for a paddling.  They assumed
that she had to talk to Mr DiMarco about something.

    The other pupils were all much younger than Patricia.  The
oldest appeared to be the boy at the end of the line, just
before her.  He seemed to be about fifteen.  He was a big boy,
taller than Patricia, but he looked quite scared.  At the
front of the queue were two small boys, about eleven years
old, both looking completely unconcerned.  They seemed like
proper little toughs.  The only other girl stood behind them. 
She was about twelve or thirteen, her breasts just beginning
to swell.  She was obviously agitated and could not keep
still.  Patricia saw her hands go subconsciously to the seat
of her jeans, only to be snatched away as she realised what
she was doing.

    As Patricia studied her fellow victims she suddenly heard
a loud WHACK! through the closed door.  She realised that
someone was already in the office being paddled.  The noise
sounded frighteningly loud through the closed door.  There was
a pause and then the sound of another loud swat.  This time
Patricia thought she heard a sharp gasp of pain after the
whack.  The third whack followed and this time there was
definitely a distinct yelp afterwards.  Then there was another
pause before the door opened and a young coloured boy emerged. 
He was obviously a classmate of the two other boys at the
front of the line.  He grinned at his two friends and gave
them the thumbs up sign to try to show them that he hadn't
been hurt.  He walked back down the corridor and the next boy
went into the office.

    The other two boys both received three swats in their
turns.  As they took their punishments Patricia saw the other
girl get more and more distressed.  She looked around
desperately as if hoping that someone would come and rescue
her and say that she be let off.  But no-one appeared and when
the third boy came out, fists clenched tightly at his sides,
she had to go in.  The door closed behind her.

    Patricia was hoping that Mr DiMarco would go easier on
girls, but when the sound of the paddle came it was louder, if
anything, than the preceding whacks.  This time it was
followed by a shriek of pain and then the sound of the girl
bursting into tears.  A second whack followed and the yell of
pain horrified Patricia.  Then she heard the loud sobs of the
punished girl.  Patricia waited for the third whack, but it
didn't come.  Instead the door opened and the weeping girl
appeared, one hand pressed tight to the seat of her jeans. 
Her face was bright red and tears streamed down her cheeks. 
She scuttled off down the corridor as fast as she could.

    Now only the tall fifteen year old remained ahead of
Patricia.  He gritted his teeth and walked into the office. 
The door closed.

    His punishment was obviously more severe than the earlier
ones.  He managed to remain silent after the first three
whacks, but the fourth swat brought forth a full- blooded
yell.  Patricia wondered how many he was going to get.  He was
silent after the fifth, but the sixth, which turned out to be
the last, sounded especially loud and resulted in a bellow of
pain.  When he stumbled out Patricia looked up and saw that
there were tears in the boy's eyes.

    Finally it was Patricia's turn.  She entered the office
and closed the door.  The deputy principal was standing behind
his desk, his jacket off and his shirt sleeve rolled up.  A
wooden paddle, with several small round holes in it and a
leather-bound handle, lay upon his desk.  He looked surprised,
his punishment list for that afternoon had only had five names
on it.  And seventeen year olds in cheerleader gear were not
usually sent for a paddling!

    Patricia handed him the note the principal had given her. 
He opened the envelope, sat down at his desk and read the
message.  He looked up at Patricia.

    "Do you know what this says, young lady?"

    "Yes sir," Patricia mumbled.

    "You've not been sent to me before, have you?"  The girl
shook her pretty head silently.  "Well a paddling is no joke,"
he said.  "I don't like paddling girls, and especially not
young women old enough to get married like yourself, but if I
punish you I'll have to give you the same as I just gave
Robert Lenaghan.  Did you see him?  Six with this paddle
really smarts!  Are you sure you want to go through with it?"

    Patricia nodded.  "Yes sir.  I want to be a cheerleader at
the big game and this is the only way!"

    "OK then!  Let's get on with it!  Bend over my desk."

    Mr DiMarco picked up the paddle and walked round to the
other side of the desk as Patricia slowly draped herself
across it.  She had to stretch to reach the other side.  Her
short cheerleader's skirt rode up revealing her thighs and
most of her bottom, barely covered by a pair of skimpy briefs. 
The deputy took the hem of the skirt and tucked it into the
waistband.  He did not want the skirt to interfere with the
efficiency of the punishment.

    As he raised the paddle high Patricia wondered if she had
made the right decision.  She had hoped that the paddle would
not be any worse than the hairbrushings she'd had from her
mom, but Robert had clearly been badly hurt and he didn't look
like  a coward.  Besides she remembered that the paddle was
used in the Texas State Women's Penitentiary.  If it was
effective on the rears of hardened criminals what would it do
to her own tender behind?  She soon found out!

    The paddle lashed down with ferocious velocity, covering
the whole area of Patricia's bottom.  Bubbles of he flesh were
forced through the small holes of the paddle.  As Mr DiMarco
well knew this would result in bruises that would last long
after the sting of the paddle had otherwise died away. 
Patricia yelled blue murder.  It hurt much more than she'd
expected.  Her head jerked sharply back sending her
light-coloured hair flying.  She nearly lost her grip on the
desk but she forced herself to stay bent over.  

    Now she knew better what to expect.  The second and third
whacks, concentrating on her right and left cheeks
respectively, both elicited yelps of pain, but she stayed
resolutely in position.  Mr DiMarco waited a while before the
next whack and then he let fly with the hardest yet.  The
paddle cracked down with a loud splat across Patricia's
reddened rear.  It was too much.  Patricia released her grip
and howled, bursting into tears.  She half straightened, her
hands going to her tortured cheeks.  She twisted round and
stood facing Mr DiMarco, her large blue eyes filled with
tears.  She hopped from one foot to the other, pressing her
hands against her anguished behind.

    Mr DiMarco allowed her a few moments.  Then he took her by
the shoulder, turned her round and bent her back over the
desk.  The sobbing girl knew she had no alternative.  She
couldn't keep still, but the deputy ignored the kicking legs
and delivered another blistering wallop.

    "AAOOWWW!  AAOOWWW!!" she yelled.

    She was still squirming and wriggling wildly, trying to
come to terms with this latest increment of pain, when Mr
DiMarco brought the paddle down for the last time.  He always
made sure the last swat was the hardest, and did Patricia
realise it!  She shrieked like a banshee, jumped a foot into
the air, and came down holding her buttocks with both hands
and crying like a baby.  She was oblivious to Mr DiMarco who
walked around her and laid the paddle on his desk before
sitting down.  He waited for Patricia to calm down a little.

    Finally Patricia realised that it was all over. 
Sheepishly she reached round and pulled her skirt out of her
waistband so that it fell and covered her blazing behind.  Mr
DiMarco handed her a tissue to dry her eyes and told her she
could go.  She slowly made her way out, dabbing at her eyes. 
Walking was painful and she stopped when she got outside the
office and leant against the wall, holding her bottom.  After
a minute she walked on.  She had to get to the changing room
to change back out of her cheerleader gear into her normal
clothes.

    At the end of the corridor she was surprised, and a little
shocked, to see her best friend, and fellow cheerleader,
Barbara.

    She stood still as Barbara tenderly put her arms about her
and asked: "How are you, was it too awful?"

    "I'm all right, Barbara," she managed to reply, her voice
almost steady.  "But my butt feels like I just sat in acid. 
Boy, am I sore!"

    "I know what you mean," her friend said sympathetically. 
"I got six swats from Marky back  in ninth grade and I can
remember what my ass felt like!" She wriggled reminiscently.

    "How did you know I was . . . where I was?" Patricia asked
hesitantly.

    "When you didn't come to the changing room we knew
something was wrong and Mr Brewer told us you'd been sent to
Marky," her friend explained.

    "Oh God!" Patricia gasped.  "Then everyone knows I've been
whacked!"

    "'Fraid so, but it can't be helped.  After all everyone
knew when I got paddled!"

    "You were fourteen, Barbara.  I'm nearly eighteen!  Does
Mike know?"

    "Yes.  He wanted to come here and wait for you with me,
but I told him to go home.  I thought you'd rather be by
yourself for a bit.  Was I right?"

    "Oh yes, yes!  I couldn't face him!  It's so shaming!"

    Barbara held her friend's hand as they walked slowly to
the changing room.  As Patricia removed her skirt Barbara
could see, even with Patricia's tiny briefs, how red and raw
her friend's bottom was.  She realised, from the marks it had
left that 'Marky' must have used his special paddle with the
holes.  Also her own six swat paddling had been over jeans -
Patricia's must have been much worse.  The punished girl
gasped as she drew on her jeans over the swollen flesh.

    When Patricia had changed the two girls walked home
together.  Patricia stopped every so often and pressed her
hands to the seat of her jeans.  Barbara reflected that
although Patricia had waited a long time for her first
paddling it was unlikely that she would forget it for a long
time to come.