From: hammersmith@aol.com (Adrian Hammersmith)
Subject: St. Adrian's
Date: 31 Aug 1994 14:29:01 -0400
It was my first year teaching at St. Adrian's. It is not easy starting your teaching career at a private girls' school, really nothing prepares you for it. You are with the same set of intelligent, curious, assertive girls the entire year. They are used to getting what they want and they have no trouble trying for it. Worse, they have been raised by the same kind of woman as their mother who also had no trouble asserting her dominance over her daughter. So they were quite accustomed to the nuances of testing authority and also the consequences. You could not frighten them easily. They called your bluff too often. In short it was a horrible year. I was taken advantage of, tested, laughed at, and my authority was, well, pretty much nonexistent.
Fortunately they were short handed and though the headmaster was not so thrilled at the lack of discipline in my classroom I was retained for a second year. It was made very clear to me, however, that my honeymoon period was over and that I had better establish a better classroom atmosphere this year.
So now it is my second year teaching at St. Adrian's. Things were different this year. I had worked on a plan of classroom discipline over the summer. I had talked to the other teachers but also some of the parents of students at one of those summer open houses we hold each year. I learned what kind of discipline the girls had had in their lives and what worked and did not work with them. Nearly all of these girls had been subject to corporal punishment by their mothers at home, in some cases quite strictly. The parents insisted that this was all that had worked with their daughters and that they were also "damn proud" of the way their daughters had turned out. I had to agree that they were bright and energetic and seemingly happy girls. The other teachers told me that corporal punishment was perfectly appropriate at St. Adrian's and in fact the parents who paid the bills expected it to be employed. My course seemed plain to me.
I set my plan of discipline down in writing, to be handed out to the students at the beginning of the year so that they all knew what was expected and also what the consequences of misbehavior or poor performance would be. One important feature of the "punishment book" as it was called was that the penalty for a certain kind of misbehavior, say talking in class, increased in severity for a student each time she committed it. It might be a few strokes of the strap in my private office behind the classroom after class the first time, but an outright paddling over my knee the second time, and so on. And woe to the student who was caught in the same crime for a fifth time during the year.
Not unexpectedly my reputation preceded me of course, and the students at the beginning of the year thought they could get away with anything. They read the guides with giggles and some disbelief, given how their recent predecessors in those chairs had gotten away with murder. They tested me right away, chewing gum, talking, passing notes, not doing their assignments, and my arm had a very busy September. Hardly a day went by without a line of them waiting outside my office door after class.
Soon, however, things settled down. These girls had eyes and could read what would happen to them the second time they misbehaved that way. Most of them by now had felt my paddle or strap and knew it was no joke. Bending over my office desk or over the back of a chair, uniform skirt high up on their backs, to feel those implements solidly smack their panty-clad rear ends repeatedly usually brought squeals and cries and often tears, try as they might not to make a sound so as to impress their waiting classmates.
Linda was the first of them to be reprimanded by me for the second time for the same offense, not having an assignment ready to turn in at the beginning of the day. She pleaded she wasn't feeling well the night before but had no note from the clinic of course. I told her to be in my office at the end of the day, and went on with my lectures. The other girls exchanged knowing looks. Linda looked fairly nervous and agitated the rest of the day; when I called on her she often had not been paying attention. I knew her mind was elsewhere. The penalty for a second offense was an over the knee hairbrushing from me, for as long as I thought necessary to improve her behavior.
As it turned out Linda was not alone that evening. I suspected that others wanted to hear what happened to her and so committed a minor offense [for the first time of course] so they could wait outside while she was punished. I toyed with the idea of making Linda last to thwart their plan; this also had the advantage of making Linda wait even longer for her spanking. At the same time I liked that Linda would know that others were listening outside to her spanking. So I decided to have it both ways. I told the girls waiting outside my office after school that day that because they had been responsible for a very poor classroom atmosphere for the other girls that day, that none of them could leave until all of them had been punished. After I was finished with each of them they were to come back out and sit on the hard wooden bench outside my door until all of them had received their punishments. I knew this would be no picnic for them. I also told the four of them what order I would take them, and made Linda the last one. She blanched and bit her lip.
Two of the girls had been chewing gum, the minimal punishment possible for them since it was their first time. I doubt if they even liked the gum. After Linda had been told to report to my office that afternoon I saw several of the girls outside during a break looking avidly through their punishment books to see what was in store for her, and probably also to see what was the least severe punishment they could get themselves. So gum chewing it was, at least for Sarah and Emily. They were also the smartest two in the class to that point. I will have more to say about Emily in the pages to follow, much more. The third culprit was Marie; I hesitate to claim she wanted to be there because I caught her passing a note over to Emily, and this meant the cherry wood paddle for her over my desk. Since she could have just chewed gum I believe that she hadn't wanted to be caught and punished.
I took her first. She had rather lank, straight blond hair and long, coltish legs. Fairly slim and pale complexion. When she bent across the front of my sturdy walnut desk and grabbed the far edge her toes just touched the floor. And her plaid grey and green uniform skirt rode high on her thighs, just covering her pert bottom. Not for long, as I slowly drew it high up onto her back. She whined a little at this. I decided since she didn't like the position nor the embarassment I would prolong it. I patted her buttocks with the paddle while I scolded her, and warned her of what would happen the next time she was in here. With that I delivered the first of her five allotted swats, SWACK! right across the lower swell of her right cheek. She yelped and jumped up off the desk to rub her bottom. Very big mistake, I told her calmly. Not only will we now start over, you will get 6 more not 5. And if you leave position again I will take your panties down. She stayed in position for the rest of them. I concentrated my fire on her lower buttocks, where the panties had ridden up exposing her bare skin. She howled at each one. I scolded her some more, finally released her from the bent over position, and escorted the now teary-eyed Marie outside where the other three waited, wide-eyed now. I had her lift her skirt and sit down on the hard bench to wait for the others to receive their punishment.
"Your turn, Emily," I said blandly and walked back into my office. Gum chewing was just three swipes of the strap, really a short tawse issued me by the school. I had Emily kneel on a stuffed chair in the corner that I used for extended reading. She looked adorable kneeling there with her back to me, her bare legs emerging from her plaid skirt, only covering her to mid-thigh, ending in short white socks and loafers. I had her hold her hands behind her head as I lectured her. I told her that I suspected why she had suddenly acquired a taste for gum and that she should be very careful about looking for punishments so casually, and that if she were so interested in hearing another girl get spanked perhaps I might end her desire by having another girl watch hers the next time. I could see her blush at this. She stammered out that this was not what she wanted at all, and that to prove it she would gladly leave right now. I had to laugh at this, she was a clever girl.
But despite the minimal sentence for first offense gum chewing I was determined to make her spanking as embarassing as possible. So I told her to bend over the back of the chair, lifting her skirt high as she did so, and holding it high while she remained bent over. The chair back was low and so this caused her bottom to be bent sharply upwards at a lewd angle. Having her participate in her own punishment by holding her skirt up for me was a nice touch, I thought. I lightly patted her pantie-clad bottom with the strap while I told her how unfortunate it was I could not take down her panties this time. I assured her that I would not hesitate the next time, regardless of what the punishment book said. I could not see her face, but I would have bet she was blushing furiously at this.
I was not bluffing either. I wanted her and anyone else to know that if they took my punishments lightly, enough to deliberately try for one, they would regret it. And in Emily's current bent over position, I could see what a wonderful bottom she had, and what a pleasure it would be for me to spank it. Yes, I confess, the few weeks I had been punishing the girls I had started to enjoy the view of their young bottoms and the exquisite feeling of power over them while they bent over for their punishment. Not to mention the cute way that they twisted and squirmed while under the strap or paddle; it was quite an erotic sight. But I digress. Ahem.
I told Emily to get ready and I saw her clench her buttocks together. I told her to relax at once or find her punishment doubled. Reluctantly she did so. So much of her bottom was bared by her severely bent over position that it was an easy matter for me to WHHHAPP! the strap across both bare lower cheeks. I heard her gasp but to her credit she did not jump up. I wouldn't have minded so much if she had, honestly. The next and penultimate SMACK! of the strap was hard right at the juncture of bottom and thighs. She gave a sharp OWww! at this one. Two vivid red stripes crossed her bottom. I knew from where they were located she would have a painful time sitting on that bench outside, or anywhere for a while. I took the strap far back for the final smack, and WHHHIICCKK! put it diagonally across the first two. She howled at this one and jumped up and started to rub her bottom vigorously, panting and half crying as she did so. I told her to stop rubbing and I would forget that she had left position without permission; her hands flew away from her bottom to the back of her head as they were supposed to after a punishment.
I escorted the now contrite and sniffling Emily from my office; I took her by the forearm and I was a bit surprised when she put both of her arms around my arm and held tight, as if for reassurance, as we left my office. I found this rather touching, I'll admit, but it threw me a bit off balance. I forgot Sarah's name in my confusion and after settling Emily painfully down on the bench, skirt up, she emitting little gasps as her thighs touched down on the hard wood, I just gestured to Sarah to follow me. I noticed her disdain as she did so.
Sarah was a beauty, even at 15, and she knew it, and thought I knew it, and so I was determined not to act like I even noticed it, which made her more determined that I do acknowledge it, and so on. She would go out of her way to get my attention, such as repeatedly writing run on sentences with five or six commas in them, knowing I would comment on it and be irritated by it. She stood there in my office, a little nervously after what she had just heard. My arm was a little tired and I wanted to save my strength for Linda's spanking, so I just had Sarah bend over the desk, lift her skirt, and hold on to the far edge. She was taller than Marie and her bottom was not as bent, but I gave her three sharp smacks of the strap, right in the same place. She yelled at the second and made a big mistake on the third. "DAMmit!" she squealed because it did really hurt, and she thought it unfair of me to strap the same place all three times.
I would have none of this. The other girls outside heard it too. If I just let this go it would be all over for me again this year. Besides which, this irritated me. I dropped the strap and went over to the desk, where Sarah was already starting to get up, thinking it was over. I pinned her back down on the desk with my left hand and quickly yanked down her panties with my right. She protested loudly in the form of what the hell did I think I was doing, a big mistake I thought because this just told the girls outside she was having her bottom bared. I started smacking her hard with my open palm. The place where the strap had landed glowed bright red and I endeavored to match that color all over her round, plump bottom. I had to hold her tight but in my anger I gave her a fairly hard bare bottom spanking before it was through, maybe a minute's worth, punctuating each word of stern reprimands such as how I would-not-tolerate-swearing- especially-at-me-and-especially-during-a-punishment with sharp spanks. She was really crying and struggling by the end and when I let her up, she jumped up and did a little dance, rubbing her bottom with both hands, and then quickly yanked her panties back up. Her face was tear streaked. I shook the strap at her and told her she had better watch it, the next time in here and she would get what Linda was about to get. I said this loudly, for Linda's benefit.
While ushering Sarah out of my office, I picked up the hairbrush from the desktop. As I settled Sarah on the bench, I looked at Linda. My words had had the desired effect. That and her waiting and listening to the other three punishments. Her face was ashen and she was already crying. She saw the hairbrush in my hand, and her eyes went wide. I gestured to her with it. "Get in here, Linda" I said as sternly as I could. She got up, a little wobbly, for a moment I thought she was going to faint. Then she shuffled into my office, and I closed the door behind her.
Linda was in tears, biting her lower lip, wringing her hands in front of me, and I hadn't even started to spank her yet. I pulled my old oak desk chair into the middle of the floor. I crooked a finger at Linda, waiting for her to come to my side and go over my knee. But she just stood there, staring at the hairbrush in my right hand, frozen like a deer in the headlights.
"Linda, let's get this over with. The other girls are waiting on you so that they can leave, and that hard bench must be murder on their bottoms as it is." Hmmm, speaking of which, I quickly opened the door of my office to see if all of them were indeed sitting as they had been instructed. Aha!
Emily was standing there rubbing her bottom. She had a look of great dismay at being caught disobeying me. "Emily, I really am disappointed in you. Of all three of you, Sarah was spanked harder and Marie has had to sit there the longest. Well, you know the consequences for disobeying me during a punishment."
"Sir, no, please, it hurt so much, I was going to sit right down again..."
"Emily, I will pay a visit to your bedroom at 9pm this evening. You know what to expect when you get there. If you don't, look at page 7 of the Punishment Book. Under "Failure to Submit to a Deserved Punishment." And Emily, you'd better be there, in your pyjamas, when I get there."
With a groan the despondent 15 year old sat herself down gingerly again on the hardwood bench. That little episode over with, I returned to my office and shut the door again behind me.
I didn't waste any more time waiting for Linda to decide to come over and get her spanking. I took her by the left earlobe and marched her over to the chair. Then I sat down and pulled her over my lap.
I heard soft pleading from down around the floor on my left side. "Noooo, please, nooo, don't please..." I told her she was going to get a good hard hairbrushing and for the next 10 minutes she would have plenty to cry about. Then I told her to reach back and pull her skirt up, which she should have done on the way over my knee. She balked at this and resumed her plaintive pleading. I took the brush and gave her several sharp smacks on the backs of her thighs, below the line of the short skirt.
"Now, Linda. Not when you get around to it. Or do you want me to pull your panties down and see how red I can make your bare bottom in the next 10 minutes?"
With a panicked squeal Linda reached back with both hands to grab hold of her skirt, having to arch her back and raise her bottom high to find the hem. I admit I found all this wriggling right under my nose to be rather enjoyable. Finally she managed to pull the plaid skirt high up on her back. Her bottom, encased in simple white cotton panties, was bent sharply over my right thigh.
I pushed her skirt even high up out of the way, exposing her lower back above her panties. Like most redheads, Linda's skin was very fair. I patted her bottom with the brush. "I hope you will read the Punishment Book so that you know what you can expect if you fail to hand in another assignment on time this year, Linda," I scolded.
"Yes, sir, I know" came the voice, very quietly, from near the floor. I was pretty sure that she did already know, that these panties of hers would be down around her knees around now if this had been her third time.
SMACK! Linda's head sprang up and her long red hair flew with the first spank of the brush on her full right bottom cheek. Immediately a red splotch appeared through the panties, circular and angry looking. WHAP! against the left side, and she twisted sideways, turning half towards me, trying to move the punished spot as far away from me as she could. I gripped her waist all the tighter, and unleashed a volley of smacks of the brush.
Linda was beside herself after a minute, howling and bucking after two, in hysterics after five, but I kept up the relentless hairbrushing. Her bottom and upper thighs were livid, covered with the marks of the brush. I took a rest, halfway through her ten minute ordeal. Linda lay there limply, sobbing helplessly. I resisted the urge to comfort her, to rub her, to hold her as she sobbed. Instead, I raised the brush again. She felt the motion, gasped as she realized there was more.
I am sure it was agony. I was dedicated to fulfilling the sentence as it was prescribed in the book. Looking back, I think I should have taken into account Linda's very sensitive skin, which by now blazed red like a fire engine even through her panties, which had ridden up anyway in her squirming, leaving her bare skin to take the impact of the brush. She was pleading in a hoarse voice for no more, oh no more after 8 minutes and God knows how many spanks of the hairbrush. Only then did I end it, early I know, but the lesson surely learned. I did not let her up but held her there, so that she was not sure it was over, and I lectured her, punctuating my sternness with an occasional spank, telling her how much worse it would be if I had to spank her again.
Finally I released her from my lap, and instead of the war dance I had expected, Linda hopping around the room rubbing her blistered rear end, she got up rather gingerly and made sure her skirt was down in place. Then, still crying, she got out a handkerchief and dried her face, and blew her nose. I stood up and faced her, placing my hands on her shoulders to steady her. She looked up at me with wide red eyes, and I told her I knew that was a pretty bad spanking, and that she took it very well. She gave a little smile at that, before blowing her nose again noisily. I told her I hoped I never would have to do that again, and escorted her to the door.
Outside were three very impressed young ladies, a bit in awe of what they had just heard. I dismissed them. As they shuffled out, Emily turned her head to look at me, a very serious and worried look on her face. "Nine o'clock, Emily," I said. She swallowed hard, turned and left the classroom.