Subject: Junior High
From: Hbrushed <>

Junior High

This school is ridiculous. Here I am, sneaking down the hall at 3:30 in the afternoon, carrying a note from the principal. "Report to my office immediately after your last class." That's more. I guess I don't really need to know more, though. This is the second time that I have received this note from him, and the last time was just awful. I'm sure the whole school sees me slinking down the hall, and I bet they all know where I'm going and why, too.

Missed assignments, late reports and tardiness. These have always been my problems. So now I'm off to the principal's office where I have no doubt I'll get a paddling. The last time I was there I got three swats with his paddle, right on the thin seat of my skirt. Geez did they hurt, and my bottom was still all prickly when I went to bed! He offered me a choice, and I chose the swats. "Miss Winters, "he said, "You have a choice. I will give you an old fashioned, over my knee, hand spanking, or I will give you three swats with my paddle while you lean over my work table. The choice is yours."

Well, I sure wasn't about to lie across his lap to get spanked, so I agreed to take the paddling. I leaned over his table, with my rear sticking out, and he gave me three rapid fire paddle smacks that resounded through the office, and lifted me right up onto my tippy toes! Wow, they stung, and I started crying in spite of myself. I was trying so hard to maintain a little dignity, but there I stood, rubbing my paddled bottom and crying like a baby. He spoke a little more about my tardiness and my assignments, and how he didn't want to paddle me. Then he said that if I ever had to come back, I'd get two paddle swats for its being be my second visit, then I'd have my choice again...three more swats, or a spanking. I promised him right then and there that I wouldn't have to make that choice again, that I had learned my lesson! He walked me into the outer office, and the smirks on the faces of the secretaries in the office made me blush - they must have heard everything.

I think it is dumb. A junior high school that still believes in using a paddle! I thought it was illegal, but I keep hearing about this being a "Charter School" and that we get to make our own rules. Well this is one rule that I don't think is right or fair. As I walk down the halls I become acutely aware of how short my skirt is. Not short, really, but too short for bending over in front of a man. Another stupid charter school rule, if you ask me. All girls and women must wear skirts or dresses. The men teachers have to wear jackets and ties, and the boys have to wear ties. There are too many rules for me here, but I'm stuck. Now here I am, right at the school office door. That's it, Jackie, take a deep breath, push the door open and walk in.

I am horrified to realize that I seem to have lost control of my voice! I squeak, "I'm here to see Principal Thomas." The head secretary smiles, and tells me that he is waiting for me, and nods toward his office. When I knock tentatively, I hear his gruff voice instructing me to enter.

I'm a little weak in the knees as he reviews the papers in front of him, and reminds me again of my tardiness, my habit of turning my schoolwork in three or four days late, and my lack of discipline. He reminds me that we discussed these things just one marking period ago, and asks me if I remember. "Of course I remember, you old goat," I think to myslelf, "my bottom is tingling right now as I think of how that discussion ended, and know what will happen at the end of this one!" I just stand there foolishly silent, staring at my feet. When he finally asks if I have anything to say for myself, I squeak again as I apologize.

"Well, Miss Winters, I believe I gave you your options the last time. The choice is yours. I will turn you over my knee and spank you, or you will lean over my table and receive five paddle swats. Two because you are here for your second time, and three because it is the standard punishment for your conduct.

I stare at my feet some more. I had already decided to take the swats and preserve my dignity. I was not going to flop down over his lap and get a spanking like a little girl. Now I am second guessing myself. The three swats he gave me before burned like a fire, I don't know if I can take five! Surely, even a long spanking would be gentler on my bottom without his paddle. I picture myself bent over the table, and the way my skirt would ride up. Then I wonder if it would only ride up more when I went across his knees. I worry about the burn of his paddle across my rear, but do I really want to have his hand on my bottom instead? My eyes are already getting wet, and he is staring at me, waiting for my answer. My mind churns, do I sacrifice my pride to preserve my bottom, or do I sacrifice my bottom to preserve my pride?

With parents as strict as mine, heaven knows that I'm no stranger to spankings, and leaning over an angry man's lap would not be a new experience for me - in fact the only new part of that experience would be leaning over a man's knees with my skirt and underwear still on! It has been a few years since the last time Dad had to put me across his lap and spank me, but that doesn't mean I don't remember the fiery burning he gave my poor bottom so many times. He didn't need to use a paddle like Principal Thomas does, oh, no. With a hand as big as Colorado, and a firm belief in the theory that a girl who needs a spanking should get it with her underpants pulled down around her ankles, daddy never needed a paddle to make his point with me or with my sisters. Mom was pretty good too. She used an old hairbrush to spank our bare bottoms, and that stung like the devil. But even with her brush, I'd take mom's spanking rather than going over daddy's lap, bare bottomed, for a hand spanking. Thank goodness that even a charter school can't spank a girl's bare bottom!

"I'll take the paddling again, Principal Thomas, and I want you to know that this will never happen again." My voice quivers and breaks. The long apology I had prepared in my mind just won't come out, so I stand silently again.

He walks over to the closet, and returns bearing his paddle. Just the sight of it brings my heart to my mouth. "Lean over the table, Miss Winters," he says in a stern voice, and I begin to comply. "Your elbows on the table, Jackie, not your hands." he says, a little more gently.

I am blushing scarlet red, the table is low to begin with. I can't believe this is happening to me. I smooth my skirt as best I can, and then lean over again, even further, this time resting my arms and elbows on the table. I know my rear is jutting out, and I feel the snugness of my skirt across my bottom. "First will be your two swats for this encore visit here. They will be fast. Do not reach back or try to stand up between them." I hope for this to be over quickly. I understand that in order to aim his paddle for the right place he has to not just look at my rear, but to stare and concentrate on it. I'm tickled and turn flirty when guys look at my rear and think it's cute, but I am mortified to have my principal studying my bottom.

Crack!! Smack!! His aim is true, and right across the roundest part of my bottom he spanks me with a paddle big enough to warm both cheeks with each swat. They come too fast for me to even cry out. The first swat causes me to draw a sharp breath as the sting arrives, and the second swat lands immediately, right near the exact same place forcing me to make a muffled 'ooo!' as he paddles my behind.

My eyes are brimming over. These two swats were hard....hard and swift. I'm standing straight up again, both hands on the seat of my skirt. My backside is tingling, and I remind myself that there are three more. I should have taken the spanking, I know this now. Nobody ever stops in the middle of a spanking, makes you stand up, and then tells you that you're not even half way through. We ought to be done now. My bottom is sore, I'm sure it is already red, I've learned my lesson. He doesn't say a word. Silently he watches me, then motions with his paddle for me to lean over again.

Back over the table I lean, biting my lip to keep from crying. I'm leaning on my hands again, afraid of my skirt sliding up, but some firm pressure of his hand on my back brings my elbows onto the table too. "Three more, Miss Winters," he says, "Also quickly and without your standing up or reaching back." I draw a breath, close my eyes and clench my rear.

Crack! Smack!!! Swat!!

I'm not crying out loud, not boo-hooing, but the tears are running freely down my cheeks. This time he has not just paddled the crest of my bottom, but down low on my rear and across the tops of my thighs as well. I am sure that the last swat landed below my skirt, on that tender skin covered only by my nylons. I'm blushing and softly crying, not just from the pain of my bottom, but from the embarrassment of bending over and having my bottom paddled again. I had planned to show no reaction, not to give him the satisfaction of knowing whether his paddling had any impact on me or not, but I was not able to put up this planned pretense. .Even though neither of us had seen it, he and I both knew that this girl's bottom was glowing bright red beneath my skirt, and that the memory of this paddled rear would help me to meet my school obligations in the future. I stand there rubbing my burning rear while he puts his paddle away.

"I hope that there will be no next time, Miss Winters, but if there is you will receive three swats for its being your third visit here, and then you will receive the number of swats that you behavior has earned for you. If your bottom is sore today, Jackie, I assure you that you do not want six swats. You will again have the option of being spanked, but since it will be your third visit here it will be a hairbrush spanking instead of a hand spanking. Regardless of which option you choose, I assure you that it will be a very disagreeable experience for you. I strongly suggest that you make this your last unpleasant visit here. You may go." I again try to apologize and assure him that we won't have to do this again, but my voice has left me. I nod quickly, stare at the floor and quickly walk to his office door.

When I reenter the outer office, the three secretaries are all smirking. The walls are thin here, and I know that they have heard everything, especially the mighty paddle spanks. They can't help but see the tears running down my face, and I can't help rubbing the seat of my skirt, confirming my bottom as the target of the swatting noises. I blush ever redder as I realize the public/private nature of my punishment, and rush out into the hall.

As I walk down the hall back to my room with my paddled bottom just burning under my skirt and panties, I hear the snickers. I bet the whole school knows that I got a paddling. They are probably poking their heads out the classroom doors to see if my legs are red and to see if I'm walking funny. The whole school will be giggling tomorrow, and I'll be teased unmercifully. I hate this place. I hate their stupid skirt/dress rules, and I especially hate their spanking rules. There are laws against paddling junior high students, I'm just sure of it. So why aren't there rules against paddling first year teachers too? It just isn't fair. As soon as I can find another job, I'm out of here!