This started as a potential SSC entry, until I realized it was over 3500 words! Anyway, it's just something I got caught up with on a Sunday afternoon--completely spontaneous, posted it as soon as I wrote it. Please let me know if you like it!

Christie sat fidgeting in Mr. Martin's office. It wasn't fair that this was happening on the last day of school! She couldn't begin to count the number of times she had been in similar situations throughout her four years at Crestfield Hall. Nor could she forget that Mr. Martin never ever let her off with a scolding as she knew he let off others, including her friend Lisa. She asked him about that the last time she was here. She was certain it got her in even more trouble than she already was in, but she had to ask. He replied, "Miss Anderson, after that one talk I had with your friend, I never saw her in my office again. After all of the lectures and paddlings you have received from me, I still see you in my office at least three times a semester. Do you mean to propose that if I simply scold you this time, you'll never misbehave for your teachers again?"

"Yes, Mr. Martin! I think your talks do more for me than the paddlings do. I benefit a great deal from the wisdom of your experience."

And perhaps that last sentence was the deal-breaker. She had to admit it was a little hokey. Or perhaps the scolding offer was never on the table in the first place. Because Mr. Martin's next statement was:

"In my experience, young women such as yourself benefit more from actions than words."

And with that he produced the boy's paddle. She had protested wildly-it wasn't fair that he would use the boy's paddle on her when other girls didn't even get paddled at all. Mr. Martin had told her that it was because it was the third time in a row she was in his office for a similar offense-sassing back to one of her teachers. The same teacher actually---Madame Jaboulet. It didn't help that French was her worst subject and the Madame Jaboulet was the only French teacher the school employed--therefore Christie had had to suffer through four torturous years with the woman.

Christie shuddered as she remembered how that paddle had stung. She was certain that Mr. Martin was using it as hard as he could-he seemed so angry! She couldn't even maintain her "touching toes" position after every whack. It was the only time she had cried after a paddling. And when it was over, she had even thought that Mr. Martin himself looked sorry.

Maybe he would let her off this time. After all, it was the last day of school and he did look sorry last time. And maybe he was just as tired of this Madame Jaboulet business as she was. It couldn't be sheer coincidence that practically every time she was in trouble, Madame Jaboulet had something to do with it. The two of them would just never get along and that was that. And since it was the last day at this school, they would never have to get along again. Certainly Mr. Martin could not argue with that logic.

In fact, he probably didn't even expect her to be here. When he came, he would probably laugh and tell her to get out and enjoy the afternoon--see you at graduation on Sunday. It's been a great four years. Yes, she could see it clearly…

Christie stood up and turned around to leave the room, when she walked into Mr. Martin himself.

"Where do you think you're going, miss?"

"Ummm…I wasn't sure if you were going to be here, seeing it was the last day of school and all…"

"You were told to report to my office, Christine. Why would Madame Jaboulet send you here if I wasn't going to be here?"

"Because she's mean like that?"

Mr. Martin sighed. "Christie…"

Christie blinked. Never before had Mr. Martin called her "Christie." Heck, even "Christine" was a novelty. If he wasn't referring to her as "miss" or "young lady," he usually preferred "Miss Anderson."

"Christie, it's your last day here. Graduation is Sunday."

Here it comes, she thought. She was home free! She knew that even Mr. Martin wouldn't paddle her on the last day of school!

"All you had to do today was take your French final. Two hours. That's all that was required of you today. You had to show up to Madame Jaboulet's class and take your final exam. You couldn't manage to behave yourself for that long?"

Uh-oh. This wasn't going as planned. Christie looked up pleadingly at Mr. Martin.

"Mr. Martin, I did behave myself. It's just that I have such a hard time with French and I studied so long for that exam and I had to concentrate really really hard. And she kept interrupting the exam with all these corrections to questions--I mean is that professional? If she's going to give an exam, it should be relatively free of typographical errors, don't you think? I mean, I don't get to come back later and say 'Oops, I meant to write this.' It's completely bogus. So all I did was point this out to her and two seconds later I have an office referral, because she hates me as you know."

"First of all, no, I'm not aware that she hates you. As far as I can tell, all of your office referrals from her have been valid. Second, I don't think pointing out your teacher's shortcomings in front of her entire class is appropriate and third-and make no mistake about this young lady as this was the reason for the referral in the first place-I understand the language you used to make your point was, shall we say, less than polite."

"Mr. Martin, I was angry and it wasn't that bad. Just one bad word…"

"And what was the 'bad' word, Miss Anderson?"

"Only once. I only said the "F" word once. But I was…"

Mr. Martin put his hand up. "Christine, I've heard all I need to hear from you right now. Now, you're going to listen to me. Sit down, you're about to get one of those scoldings for which you so much envy your friend Lisa."

Christie permitted herself a small smile until Mr. Martin added, "Don't think that's all you'll be receiving from me today."

Christie's shoulders sunk. She never got away with anything…

"Christine, this is the fourth referral in a row this semester you have received from Madame Jaboulet and furthermore, it's the same type of referral--speaking to her in a disrespectful manner. Now, unfortunately for you, this particular offense is a personal pet peeve of mine. There are few things I find more discouraging than a young person who fails to show respect for their elders and authority figures. I believe that demonstrating proper respect for these individuals, whether or not you feel they deserve this respect, is important. It is the mark of a truly well bred young woman or man as the case may be. You can't let your temper influence your actions. You are free to think of Madame Jaboulet as an idiot, but you are not free to share that thought with her.

"And unfortunately Christine, that is one important lesson I have been trying to convey to you these last four years. And here we are on the last day of your senior year here, and it looks like I haven't succeeded. And whether or not you believe it, it saddens me. I've thought about how I was going to handle this from the moment I received the referral from Madame Jaboulet this morning. Yes, at first I considered the option I bet you were sitting here hoping for…to just drop the issue seeing it was your last day here and you wouldn't have to deal with Madame Jaboulet ever again. Yes, I've considered that it was just bad chemistry between the two of you since your other teachers have relatively few complaints about you in comparison. I was prepared to drop the matter all together.

"But Christie, that wouldn't be fair to you. Somewhere down the line there's going to be another Madame Jaboulet-a college professor, an employer…-- and you're going to feel entitled to treat him or her as rudely as you like. And I'd like to think I did everything in my power to teach you differently. But I won't think that until I tried once more."

Christine's eyes started to water. He really was going to use that awful boy's paddle on her again.

"You're remembering our last encounter. Christie; I'm not going to use that approach again. Among the many things I was considering this morning is the many paddlings you have received here. They have one theme in common: they were brief and harsh. And while that approach may work for some and is certainly convenient for me, I want to try something different with you today. This is an approach I use with my own daughters and I'm happy to say that I don't have to employ it often. Since you're my only referral today and it's only 11 o'clock, we certainly have enough time to do things properly. I think you deserve that.

Christine raised her eyebrows quizzically. She wasn't sure what all this talk about different approaches meant. Was she going to be paddled or not?

"Come here, Christie." Mr. Martin beckoned as he moved his chair out from under his desk.

Christie stood up cautiously and slowly walked over to Mr. Martin. He was indicating a spot to his right. She hesitated and tried to figure out what he intended to do with her standing at his side.

"Christine, I'm waiting. If you're not going to cooperate, I'll get the boy's paddle out…"

Christie hurried over to Mr. Martin's right side.

"Good girl." Mr. Martin replied as he removed a very small paddle from a drawer in his desk. Christie couldn't believe her eyes. It was hardly bigger than his hand!

Mr. Martin placed the paddle on his desk and before Christie realized what was happening, he took her right arm and pulled her over his knee and lifted up her pleated skirt--like one would a small child! Christie wriggled around frantically once she became aware of her predicament-certainly he didn't plan on paddling her like this!

"Okay, Christie, time for Part Two. Stop wriggling! If at any time I feel you're not cooperating with this, I will get the boy's paddle out and you will receive double what you received last time, understand?"

"What are you doing?" Christie whined.

"Christine, I asked you a question, and I had better hear the right answer."

"Yeessss"

"Christie you're about to be punished. What do you say when I ask you a question?"

Christie took a deep breath. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now as I was saying, we're ready to move on to the next step. I want you to lift your hips by standing on your toes so I can pull your panties down."

"Whhaaaattt?!?!?!?" Christie screeched and she tried to fight her way off of his lap. "No, no way, absolutely not, leggo of me…"

"Okay, Christie, I'm giving you one last chance. Compare this…" Mr. Martin took hold of the small paddle and whacked it against Christie's upturned bottom. Christie cried out in response.

"To this," Mr. Martin reached across Christie to his bottom desk drawer to retrieve the boy's paddle.

"Noooooooo…." Christie wailed.

"Too late, Christie. You've earned yourself one whack for comparison purposes." Mr. Martin moved Christine off of his lap slightly, but still held her around the waist, allowing himself the wider arm circle required for such a paddle, and brought the boy's paddle sharply across Christie's bottom. Christie screamed shrilly in response.

Mr. Martin moved Christie back to the original over the knee position and placed his hand on her bottom, waiting a moment for Christie to calm down. "Come on, Christie, be reasonable for a change. Do you really want me to let you up and have you touch your toes? You received four of those last time, today it would be eight. Is that what you want?"

Christie sniffled. "No, but I don't want you to pull my panties down either…"

"I know, Christie, but those are your two choices. I'm sparing you some dignity this way. I would have my daughters pull down their panties before I placed them over my knee."

Christie shuddered at these words. This couldn't be happening. She wasn't really about to receive a bare-bottom spanking over the dean of students' knee like a little girl. Wake up, wake up, please wake up and let this all be a bad dream.

"Christie, I'm going to speed up this decision for you. I'm going to count to three. By the time I reach three, you had better be on your toes ready for me to take your panties down. You know what's going to happen if you're not."

Christie whimpered as Mr. Martin began the count. "One…Two…"

Christie scrunched her eyes shut and slowly raised her hips from Mr. Martin's lap.

"Good girl" was Mr. Martin's response as he gently slid Christie's panties to her knees.

Christie trembled as she felt her panties leave her bottom. She felt so vulnerable in this position but was certain she would do just about anything to avoid another whack with that awful boy's paddle.

Mr. Martin returned his left arm to its original position around her waist and held the small paddle against her bare bottom.

Christie winced as she felt the small piece of wood leave her bottom and braced herself for the blow to come. Mr. Martin brought it down sharply against her upturned bottom. Christie sucked in her breath. It didn't hurt nearly as much as that wicked boy's paddle, but it still stung quite a bit. Christie kicked her feet a little.

Mr. Martin delivered five quick consecutive blows with the paddle and Christie began to kick her feet much more frantically.

"Is it over now?" she asked hopefully. "I've received six of those plus one whack from that especially awful paddle…"

"No, Christie, it's far from over. I told you I had a couple hours to deal with you and I meant it. You've had punishments with the girl's paddle which were much more severe than what you've received so far."

"But it was over so quickly…." Christie whined.

"That's the point, Christie. It was over too quickly. I'm finally giving you a proper spanking, which is what SMACK you've needed CRACK for the last four years."

Christie started at each stinging blow. While Mr. Martin was correct in that each blow hurt less than either the girl's or boy's paddle, she wasn't sure this was going to be a better deal. How long was this going to go on? Mr. Martin gave no indication.

Christie could feel her bottom reddening. She couldn't believe what a difference receiving a spanking on her bare bottom made. Besides being embarrassing, the blows from that small paddle stung like hell!

Mr. Martin continued his steady pace. Having raised three daughters, he considered himself expert on delivering a proper spanking to a young lady. He had perfected his wrist snap, which was especially effective with hairbrushes and small wooden implements. He knew that Christie was feeling the benefit of that experience. He had always thought she would benefit from this. The girl needed a long, steady, old-fashioned spanking-which he was sure would have settled all of this repeat-offense nonsense some time ago. Although he knew he couldn't raise the children that attended his school, he felt he could at least make an impact on molding their behavior and Christine Anderson has always been a disappointment in that regard. It was with heavy heart that he received her many office referrals. He didn't even see the most troublesome boys more than twice a semester.

That was why he resorted to the boy's paddle during her last office visit. He thought that she had grown too used to receiving additional blows with the girl's paddle and wanted to make an impression on her. But even as she was leaving the office with tears in her eyes on that day, he knew it wasn't what had needed to be done. Christie just needed someone to spend some time and effort correcting her behavior. Maybe because it was his last chance today or maybe the opportunity just seemed to present itself, but he finally had the nerve to carry out what he knew had to be done.

Mr. Martin's steady pace was having the desired effect on Christie. She began to squirm wildly as the heat grew in her bottom. "Please Mr. Martin, please no more….," she started to whimper.

"We're not done yet, Christie," he replied softly and he interrupted his steady pace to deliver two particularly sharp blows to her bottom. "I want you to think about why you are here right now. Why can't you learn to control that sharp tongue of yours?"

"I-I-I don't know…," she started to cry. "I don't think about it when it's happening."

"Despite the fact that you've been punished for it so many times?"

"I don't know" she repeated through her sobs. "Maybe I'm just stupid…"

"Christie, I think we both know that's not true…"

Mr. Martin resumed his pace and Christie continued to cry. This was awful. She felt awful. She wished she had never said anything to Madame Jaboulet. It just wasn't worth it. She would never admit it to Mr. Martin, but she used to think that sometimes six whacks with the paddle was worth it just to see the expression on the crusty old French woman's face when she delivered her latest insult. Frequently standing up to a Martin paddling also made her somewhat of a hero among her classmates.

She couldn't describe what this was, however. She would absolutely die if anyone were to see her now, red-faced and crying over Mr. Martin's knee.

The steady pace resumed and gave no indication of letting up.

"Christie, I'm waiting for an answer to my question."

"Wh-wh-at question?"

"Why can't you learn?" Mr. Martin punctuated this with a particularly sharp blow. "Why are you in here every few weeks getting punished for the same thing? Are my punishments not adequate?"

"Noooo….they hurt!" was Christie's response.

"Then why aren't they a deterrent? Do you somehow think its cool to be sent here all the time?"

Christie gave no response, save the kicking and struggling against the blows.

"Christie, I'm not going to let up until I receive an acceptable answer to my question. So if you don't plan on giving me one anytime soon, I suggest you make yourself comfortable here. I've got all afternoon."

Mr. Martin delivered several sharp blows to the area where her bottom met her thighs. Christie screamed.

"And if you keep struggling, I'll continue the spanking in that area."

Christie cried out in frustration. This was such a raw deal. She would rather have bent over for twenty-four whacks of that awful paddle for how red her bottom was now. And she hated this interrogation more than anything.

And with that thought she fully resigned herself to the spanking. There was nothing she could do but accept it. His blows only became sharper when she struggled.

"I'm waiting, Christie."

"I'm not struggling anymore!" she cried in protest.

"No, you're not. And I won't be spanking your favorite area, so we both win on that account. But you haven't answered my question, so I can't conclude the spanking."

God, she hated that word. It was much cooler when she was getting "licks" or "blows" with the paddle. That she was getting an over-the-knee spanking was positively mortifying.

Christie took a deep breath and told Mr. Martin what she thought she would never disclose. "yes, I thought it was kinda impressive…" she mumbled.

"What was that, young lady?"

He was going to make her repeat it? Christie sighed, braced herself for the onslaught of blows she expected at this revelation, and repeated through her sobs. "I thought it was impressive."

"What was impressive?"

"That I could take a paddling as well as any guy could…"

Mr. Martin smiled to himself and relented a bit on the sharpness of the blows and asked "And do you think anyone would be impressed if they could see you now?"

"No, no, sir. No, this is awful…please I'm sorry. I never meant to get you really mad at me…" she broke off in sobs.

Mr. Martin finally placed the paddle down on his desk. He gently lifted his arm from her waist and carefully placed her panties back to their rightful position. Christie didn't need to be prompted to lift her hips this time.

He helped her up to her feet and looked at the poor distraught girl. Her eyes were red and puffy, her hair disheveled. He guided her to a sitting position on his lap. Christie winced at sitting down on her red bottom but the pain was overtaken by the surprise of her situation. Mr. Martin handed her a tissue, which Christie gratefully accepted. His gentleness made her cry anew. She had never really cried in front of him like this.

"I'm sorry…" she began through her tears "Sorry for everything. I'm just so…" she broke off in fresh tears.

Mr. Martin held the sobbing girl against him and comforted her. "Shhhhhh….it's over now. It's all over now."

Christie cried against his shoulder and as he rubbed her back gently. They remained like that for a few minutes until Mr. Martin guided her to a standing position, facing him.

"Promise me something, okay, Christie?"

"Anything!"

"Apologize to Madame Jaboulet for everything between now and graduation. The teachers should be here correcting finals for the next couple of days, so you'll have plenty of opportunity."

Christie winced at the thought. "Yes, sir."

"I'm not going to check up on you Christie, I'm just going to expect you to keep your word because you promised me, okay?"

"I promise."

"One more promise. And this may sound silly, but you may not think so later, okay?"

"Okay…"

"If you need someone to talk to, if you feel you need direction or some semi-parental advice, come talk to me, okay?"

Christie smiled. "As long as the 'direction' is verbal…"

"Of course. But you never know when you just might feel …never mind. You'll understand what I mean someday. But for now, just know that I'm here. You can go now. I'll see you at graduation."

Christie put her arms around Mr. Martin's neck and quickly kissed him good-bye as she hurried out of the room, embarrassed by her impulsive display of affection.