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.