Paddled At School

This is a bit of fiction that may appeal to a few males who would like to be paddled at school.
She sat in her office contemplating the day. As she went over in her mind the usual chaos there was a sudden knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called out.

As he entered through the door, she recognized instantly who it was and she repeated herself, “Please, come in, come in.”

“What can I do for you?” she said with just a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

“Well I don’t mean to disturb you ma’am but……..”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Well, it’s about what happened today.”

“And you have come forward to finally confess, I take it?”

“Well, I uh,” he shuffled his feet and his eyes were downcast.

“Mmmm.” She murmured, then added, “Anything you want to tell me?”
She glared at him, with her arms folded across her chest, one high-heel clad foot tapping the floor. Her gaze pinned him like a captured animal. He said nothing.

“Exactly what I thought. First,” she said matter-of-factly, “it’s apparently been far too long since you’ve had your bottom warmed. “

An electric current seemed to have shot through his body; creating goosebumps and making him tremble slightly. There seemed to be a finality to her statement that denied him any chance of appeal or rebuttal, so he just stood there, waiting for her conclusion. He was breathing harder now as he anticipated what would follow. She let him stand there for a few moments so that her comment would sink in. Then, she declared firmly,
“You can rest assured that I won’t make that mistake again, and I intend to correct the situation, right now. Placing her hands on her hips, she stared at him straight in the eyes and ordered him to “Come with me.”
The click of her heels on the hardwood floor went from his ears to his soul and something else. A rush of excitement swept through him, unexpected but not unwelcome.

He watched her as she moved away from the door and walked towards her desk. His heart accelerated to light speed as she leaned over her desk. Her short snug navy skirt rode up to mid-thigh as she leaned over and started clearing objects off. Lowering herself back down to the floor, she adjusted her skirt and she motioned for him to come to her.

“I’m sorry….” he said lamely, “I didn’t mean…” his voice trailed off.
“Yes.” She answered, “I know.” A long pause, then, “You’re going to be spanked young man: good and hard.”

“Over the desk. NOW!” she commanded. And he did as he was told.
Swallowing hard, he stepped up onto the slightly raised platform at the front of the room and bent over the desk.

“No. Since the prior hand spankings have not had any effect on you, this one will be on the bare bottom. Take your pants and briefs down.”

He looked at her in disbelief but knew that if he didn’t do it, it would only be worse. He twisted his head a little to see out the door to see if anyone was watching. And then let his pants and briefs fall to the floor.

Her foot then kicked at his ankles lightly, telling him to move his legs more widely apart. She knew this vulnerable stance would heighten his punishment. She reached out from around the desk and picked up the paddle.

He couldn’t believe that she chose to punish him this way. All the other times she had just put him across her lap and spanked him with her hand. He had a very brief moment to consider that fact.

For without further ado the woman smacked his bottom soundly with the paddle. She struck hard and fast: much harder than she had paddled anyone before. But she had tolerated his antics much too long and it was about time he learned his lesson.

“Ahhhh!” a surprised gasp left his lips, followed quickly by another as the paddle struck again. For the next couple of minutes, every sound that left his mouth was shortened by the surprise and reaction to the next swat. At length, as the sturdy piece of wood snapped down on his fast-reddening bottom. She held him fast, despite his struggles, her left hand more than capable of keeping his right hand away from his glowing backside. That piece of hardwood stung viciously, making every spank burn with surprising intensity. The swats that landed on both cheeks were full wrist-action smacks, provoking oohs and ows from his mouth.

In between swats, he tries to plead with her, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to………it won’t happen again.” Obviously, his pleas fell on deaf ears and she continues to paddle his reddening bottom.

Now he was crying out at each blazing spank. She was talented, bringing the paddle sizzling down on the tender sit spots, rewarded with the jiggling of his rounded cheeks, and a lovely crimson blush covering every square inch of his bottom.

It was seemingly endless, although she had only delivered about 20 or so swats to his burning bottom. He knew that it was a spanking he would not soon forget.

“I want you to remain in that position for a few minutes. To think about what you did and whether it will happen again.”

“Yes, ma’am” he managed to say softly. His bottom was on fire. He had never expected this when he came through her door just a few minutes earlier.

After a while, she told him to get up and pull himself together. Slowly he reached down and pulled the briefs and jeans back up. He wriggled his bottom into the jeans and she could see out of the corner of her eye that he was having some discomfort getting them back on.

“Now go and tell your friends that you didn’t appreciate them putting those naughty videotapes in your bag. And then, of all things, them knocking your bag to the floor so the tapes would fall out in plain sight.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry ma’am that they did that but………..”

“No excuses. You can leave now and remember what happened here today. I don’t want to see you back in my office. If I do, it will be much worse next time.”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand.” And with that, he left her office to meet his friends outside the building.

“Hey, you idiot,” one of his friends called out to him, “why did you bring those videos today and then drop them on the floor??”

He just smirked and slung his bag over his shoulder. He wondered what he would bring in next week.

Tight White Shorts

One of the first lasses I spanked, Carol, wore tight white shorts. Her shorts had legs about one inch long. So there was plenty of  sweet tender thigh to admire. She had several pair of of these shorts or they were washed very frequently as they were a mainstay of her summer wardrobe on the river. She was petite, with small perky breasts and blonde hair or at least the tresses on her head were golden. I wanted her. She was likely virgin, I know I was. We were both 14.

There were six of us that spent the summers on the river who were all about the same age. We spent most of day on the water, swimming, skiing and goofing off. At night, we gathered on the pier that was 30 yards out in the water – far enough out that adults could not surprise us. The talk was racy, but other than a few stolen kisses nothing much happened.

This changed when Becky’s uncle moved his Century Resorter to her parents boat house and Becky got boat privileges. WooHoo! While we all had run-a-abouts, this was boat had class. None of us could take a boat out at night, but Becky could. And her uncle was generous with gasoline. She must have filled up the tank at least daily. Of course, gas was only about 35 cents at the inflated prices on the river. So a fill-up was about $15. More than we could pool in a day.

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Looking pretty much as I remember the boat

So with some fine talking, promising and lying by all of us, we soon were drifting in the middle of the river at nights, instead being pier bound. We had it made. And we could get beer where we got gas, so we were able to keep our thirst quenched.

We had always dressed up a bit for our evening activities, even it was only sitting on the benches at the end of the pier. But, we now started wearing swim wear under our clothes, so we could swim in the cool water of the middle of river. This also led to increased contact with soft female skin in the moonlight far from the eyes of our parents. Party smile

Life was getting better.

One evening it was Becky’s birthday and someone else, not me, decided to give her birthday spanks. So Becky was given a few spanks by all of us, I think two other girls and the three of us knuckle-dragging guys. She did not fight at all, but gracefully bent over the engine compartment and accepted her spanks with equal grace. Now Becky was a looker, buxom and all that, but it was Carol that I had the hots for. And in our youthful exuberance it was soon determined that all the girls needed a spanking and soon Carol bent over the padded cover with her tight white shorts radiating the light of the moon and stars.

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Not Carol, or anyone I know, but some fine white shorts

I did a sorry job of spanking her as I was more nervous than I had ever been in my life. There in front me, encased in white, was the object of two months of serious adolescent interest – her bottom willingly presented for my palm. And I could only do a half-hearted job.

I wish I could relate that I made up for that night with her, but it never happened. It was not the last spanking in that boat however. And burned into my wee mind that night was a life-long obsession with wooden speed boats and tight white shorts.

This memory was brought front and center by a remembrance of Dave Wolfe.

A Wet Dewdrop From Her Jade Gate On My Pants

Long ago in a far distant universe, Bacall and I were with another spanking couple engaged in some casual spanking before dinner. We were all on the same bed. Bacall was OTK of the other man and his companion was over my lap.

I had on light gray dress slacks. That’s important. When the lass got off my lap the outline of her jade gate was perfectly imprinted on the leg of my slacks. Of course her friend saw it. And being the jealous type he was infuriated that she got turned on being spanked by a male switch. In his world male switches were as low on the pole as you could get. But, we did not know that at the time.

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He started to take out his fury on Bacall’s bottom, but she put a stop to that right away. Bacall is not any more submissive than I am. He found his solace in two double Jack Daniels before dinner.

Maybe I should have saved the slacks like Monica saved her dress. But what museum? The Spanking Hall of Shame?

If there is a moral here, perhaps it’s to not wear light colored slacks to parties.

Strange Partners

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All of the male readers of this Blog enjoy being spanked by women. How about the woman above? Would you bend over the bed for her? Certainly attractive enough. She should appeal to girdle and hose fans. Her bullet bra should bring back some memories for those old enough to recall the fashions of the 60’s. How about her eyeglasses? Your comment is solicited.

Some want a Domme. This one has lots of toys.

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Would you go over her lap? Perhaps her little dog would lick you in aftercare.

My preference? I would love to play with #1 and see what she is all about. I would pass on #2.

Toy Shopping

I must be really getting old, since in the last few weeks I am remembering things that have not crossed my wee brain in a very LONG time.

We were at some beachside beachwear establishment in the Florida panhandle. We discovered they had some kinky stuff in a back room. We were with a pure vanilla couple, but we sometimes play fast and loose. Bacall found a small flogger and decided to test it on her bare legs. That elicited a loud Owwww! Her gf asked why she had hit herself, Bacall said it seemed like the thing to do.

Another time in Coconut Grove, we found ourselves in the Pink Pussycat, an adult store. Bacall found a black leather pig slapper that she was almost positive that she just had to have. She asked the guy behind the counter if she could try it out. Fine with him. So she bent over the counter and I started whacking her with it. She purred.

Now here’s the part that we thought most interesting. There was another couple in the store examining a $250 vibrator that had lights and all sorts of things that whirled around. They gave us their best look of extreme displeasure to condemn our conduct.

So we bought the slapper and as we walked out, I gave Bacall a slap when we were right behind them.

Life is nothing but a dash and you should have fun during it.

Have a good weekend!

Spanking Up, Paddling Down

Graphing Spanking and Paddling references in Google’s massive digital library, shows that the references to paddling have been declining since the turn of 20th century. Spanking references have been on a steady up trend since the 1600’s.

See for yourself.

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Of course, when you consider that paddling also includes paddling boats and mechanical energy largely replaced muscle power, the decline makes more sense.

Heck, now we have paddling machines. Thank goodness, my elementary school principal only tried to scare me by telling me about her spanking machine. Now, it could be true.