Don't Insult Your Teachers

On Friday afternoon, Erica plucked an official-looking letter from her new high school out of the mailbox. She'd been expecting it. She'd insulted her English Lit teacher, and the "incident" had been referred to the school's disciplinary committee for a determination.

She opened the envelope and read:

Erica sighed. The letter contained no surprises. She knew that corporal punishment was meted out freely at this school, and that it wasn't merely with pants down. Oh, no. Those unfortunate enough -- or foolish enough -- to get a spanking had to strip naked for the "event." And, at the very instant her insult to Mrs. McClintock was leaving her mouth, she understood she'd just become one of the "foolish" ones who'd have to strip.

"Oh well," she sighed aloud, putting the letter where she could keep track of it.

"October 5th," she mused to herself. "That's a week and two weekends away." In a bizarre way, she found herself wishing she could be spanked sooner. She'd prefer not to have a naked spanking hanging over her head for nine days. That'll be a distraction, she thought.

She hadn't had much choice but to "discuss" it with her parents that night since they'd gotten notification in a manner she couldn't intercept -- not that she would have. Her parents weren't particularly exercised by either her behavior or the resultant punishment. They knew the district's policies, and knew they'd raised a perceptive daughter who wasn't given to bouts of pique.

"Don't fret about it," her father told her easily. "You've been spanked before. You know what it's like. You might want to guard your speech a little more closely, though," he added with a smile.

"Yeah," she responded rather glumly. She had to agree with both her dad's points, though. She had been spanked -- more than once -- and she probably should try to rein in her tongue. It had gotten her in hot water multiple times, with varying consequences.

Her mother asked only, "Is this Mrs. McClintock really as bad as you say?"

"Yes! And I'm not the only one who thinks so. I just said to her what others won't."

"Hmmm," was all her mother had added.

She passed the intervening nine days as normally as she could. She went on a date that first weekend.

"I heard what you said about Mrs. McC. Have you heard from the Committee yet?"

"Yeah," Erica answered. "Contempt of the faculty. Spanking offense."

"With Dr. Frazier?"

Erica nodded.

"Not fun. But he's fair. It'll be okay."

"Easy for you to say," Erica responded. "You don't have to strip for a strange man."

"Yeah, well, I have. I suppose it's probably worse for girls, though."

"Could we talk about something else?" Erica requested.

She tried to be a model student the following week, but things felt odd. She suspected her words to Mrs. McClintock had gotten all the way around the student body, and that every last person in the building had figured out what was in store for her. Everyone was looking at her strangely -- or, so it seemed.

Jeez, c'mon, she thought. What's the big deal? It's not like I'm the only one ever to be spanked around here. Then she wondered if that were really true. Yes, she decided; it was true. Her date said -- well, implied -- he'd been spanked by Dr. Frazier.

Erica stayed home on the weekend before her appointment. She watched TV, did some homework, surfed the Web. She didn't withdraw into a shell. She still interacted with her parents, cooking dinner for them and just chatting as a family.

On Sunday night, she thought hard about what to wear the next day. She debated with herself. I could do a sundress and flipflops. Easy to put on and easy to take off -- especially if I skip the bra and panties. No panties? No. Too easy to see "something." Better wear a bra too. I'm already in trouble. She decided on a white blouse, a navy-blue skirt, ankle socks and athletic shoes. And, of course bra and panties -- white cotton panties.

The skirt and panty choices were deliberate and calculated. White cotton panties were thicker and covered much more of her butt than the light-weight bikinis she preferred, and the cotton skirt was the heaviest thing she owned. She knew she couldn't protect her bare ass from the spanking, but she'd have to sit on hard school chairs the rest of the day, and having any extra padding back there would be welcome.

On Monday morning, Erica's alarm clock sounded, but she was awake long before it went off. She hadn't slept well. She dragged herself up and into the shower. Then, she donned her carefully chosen outfit and went down to breakfast. Once there, she realized she wasn't hungry. Her stomach was sharing in the anxiety that had kept her tossing and turning all night. I'll be hungry by lunchtime I'll bet, she thought.

Her mom walked into the kitchen. "Today's the day, huh?"

"Yeah."

"You'll be okay. For what it's worth, your dad and I don't think what you said was worth a spanking. Still, we can't overrule the school board."

"Thanks," Erica responded with feeling. She understood she'd just been excused from a complementary spanking tonight. "I'd better get going. Wouldn't do to be late," she said in an only partially-successful attempt at light-heartedness.

And with that, she trudged out the door and headed to school.

Inside the building, everything seemed subdued. Sounds seemed muffled. She felt eyes on her, and it seemed everyone was giving her a wide berth.

She sat through her first hour class in a daze, watching the clock's second hand tick off the time she had left. She knew the teacher was talking, but his words weren't reaching her brain. I should have just skipped this class. she thought. Then she snorted mentally. Probably get me another spanking, she thought dully.

The bell ending first hour rang at 9:20, startling her out of her reverie. It was time already?

Making sure she had her "letter of conviction and sentence," she made her way toward the school office. She thought about stopping at the water fountain, but didn't think she could swallow. The halls seemed freakishly quiet, and she was only marginally aware of the surge of students around her. It was as if they all silently watched the "condemned" go by.

After a four-minute eternity, Erica reached the glass doors of the office. She was half an hour early. She put out a hand, grasped the handle, and had to take a deep breath to steady herself. Then she pulled the door open and went in. She looked around wondering who to talk to -- and where she'd undress.

"May I help you?" a woman asked. The name tag said she was Miss Donovan.

"Uhhh...yes," Erica answered producing her letter.

"Oh. You have an appointment to be spanked by Dr. Frazier," Miss Donovan said brightly -- at little too brightly thought Erica. "You're early. That's good! Dr. Frazier's office is through that door. Go right in."

That woman oughta take some Valium. She's WAY too cheery, Erica thought.

She went through the indicated door and into an outer office. In about two seconds, she noted that room had five chairs along each side wall, and another door opposite the one she'd just come through. On the wall where it couldn't be missed by anyone coming in was a sign that read: "Remove all clothing, sit down, and await your turn. No talking."

And the room wasn't empty! Four other girls -- naked girls -- sat in the room. All of them held their clothes on their laps. Three of them -- they all looked like freshmen, Erica thought -- were hunched over their clothes, rocking back and forth, looking at the floor. One was crying already. The fourth one -- she's in my math class realized Erica -- sat up straight, but stared at a spot high on the opposite wall. Not a single one of them so much as acknowledged that she'd come through the door. A fifth chair was unoccupied save for some neatly folded clothes.

Erica was stunned into immobility for a moment or two. She hadn't expected to have "company." Clearly, she did. Just as clear, by the presence of ten chairs, was the fact that multiple spankings per day might just be the norm. There were five of them there at that moment.

The door opened and bumped into her. She turned, and her mouth fell open. It was Stan Parris! She dated him. What's HE doing in here now? Surely, he's not here for a spanking. Surely, the school keep boys and girls spankings separate, don't they? Surely. But why else would he be in here? Oh my God.

Stan's eyes slid across Erica's face with barely a flicker of recognition. He looked past her at the other girls, then at the sign, and went to a vacant chair. In his own private hell, he took off his shirt and pants, then paused and looked back at Erica. His eyes widened as he finally realized she was someone he'd dated -- and that they were about to be naked in the same room together. Not the circumstances he would have chosen for that privilege. He heaved a sigh, and sat down to take off his shoes and socks. Then he stood back up, shucked off his underwear, sat back down and put his clothes over his lap. He didn't look at Erica again.

For her part, Erica still hadn't moved. A huge number of unexpected things had hit her all at once -- not least of which was watching Stan undress -- and she was still processing it all. More than just me getting spanked today? So many that there's ten chairs!? And boys at the same time? And Stan Parris is sitting right there, and he's naked! It was almost too much.

Finally rousing herself from her catatonic state, Erica chose a chair. She sat down and took off her shoes and socks. Still sitting, she took her blouse off and laid it on the chair beside her. Then she did the same with her bra. She sent a mental command at Stan: Look over here! He didn't. Topless now, she stood up facing Stan and unzipped her skirt. Holding its hem, she lowered it and her panties to the floor at the same time, stepped out of them, and stood up. LOOK AT ME, STAN! she shouted mentally. No luck. He didn't even look when she turned around and bent over to pick up the skirt and panties.

Wow,she mused. I just put on display everything I got. He's REALLY shook up.

She had just sat on the chair next to her pile of clothing when the inner door opened. A teary-faced boy came out -- My God! That's Jeff Graham! -- followed by an older lady whom Erica knew was Mrs. Chandler. Jeff, naked of course, went to the chair with clothes on it without looking up.

Erica did look up. She wanted to see what his butt looked like, and it didn't look good. In fact, it diseased. It was red with white and purple spots all over it. Erica inhaled sharply, and looked away. Jeff had been paddled, and the paddle had holes in it!

"Have a good day, Mr. Graham," said Mrs. Chandler kindly. She checked her list. "Miss Grayson?"

No one moved, but Erica heard a gasp.

"Miss Grayson," Mrs. Chandler repeated, but still no one moved. "Which one is Margie Grayson?" she asked addressing the whole room.

Two sets of very young hands pointed at the third girl whom Erica figured was a freshman. Margie, for that's obviously who she was, started sobbing but still didn't get up.

Mrs. Chandler's eyes softened. She sat down beside Margie and put an arm around her shoulder. Margie leaned into her. "Margie?" she asked. "Do you know why you're here?"

"I was bad," Margie hiccoughed.

Mrs. Chandler let the lack of specificity pass. "Yes, you were," she agreed softly. "And, you get punished when you're bad, don't you." She made it a statement.

"I guess so," Margie sniffed.

"Wouldn't you like to get it over with?"

"I..." She started a fresh bout of crying. "It's gonna hurt," she cried, and clung to Mrs. Chandler for solace.

"I can see you're really scared. You know what, Margie. It won't be as bad as you're afraid it will. Sure, it'll hurt. That's the idea. Punishment is not supposed to be fun. But it'll be over before you know it."

"Uh, uh, uhkay." Margie was back to hiccoughing.

Mrs. Chandler sat Margie up and removed the clothes from her lap, then they stood up together with Mrs. Chandler keeping her arm around Margie's shoulder for support -- and to ensure that she went through the door.

Erica listened to the quiet exchange. Poor kid. She's terrified. She looked at Margie's narrow, almost pre-adolescent butt -- Late puberty? Erica wondered -- as she walked into Dr. Frazier's office, and wondered what it would look like next time she saw it. Not as bad as Jeff's she hoped.

Jeff had managed to get his underwear on, and had paused to stand there in nothing else. His breathing was labored.

Just the pressure of his underwear? Erica thought with a gulp.

Jeff managed to put on his shirt; then, with difficulty, his blue jeans. But he had to sit down to put his shoes on. He winced at that, and kept wincing while he tied his shoes. Finally dressed, he exited the office probably unaware that he knew at least one naked girl sitting there.

As Jeff left, another boy -- it looked like another freshman -- entered. He looked around, read the sign, and blushed. He was in a room with four naked girls, one other naked boy, and he was going to have to take his clothes off in front of all of them. Then, his gaze fixed on one of the young girls, and he blushed even brighter and squinted out a tear.

He knows her, Erica realized.

He went to a chair and got started. Erica watched out of the corner of her eye. He kept his back to the rest of the room, but Erica got a peek when he bent over.

Damn. In a couple of years... she thought to herself.

The inner door opened again, and out came Margie -- still under Mrs. Chandler's arm. She was red all over; no doubt the flush of so much crying. She was rubbing her butt, indifferent to the fact that her whole front side was visible to anyone who cared to look.

Erica looked. So did the boy who'd just finished stripping. In fact, he stared. Probably the first naked girl he's ever seen, Erica guessed. Then, he blushed even more when he realized he'd gotten an erection. He sat down and covered his lap with his clothes.

Erica managed to glimpse Margie's butt before she and Mrs. Chandler sat down together. It was red, but not diseased-looking as Jeff's had looked. Erica breathed a sigh of relief -- for Margie or for herself, she wasn't sure.

She heard Mrs. Chandler's soft voice again, "It's all over now Margie. You did very well. Dr. Frazier and I are proud of you, and we're going to write to your parents and tell them how well you did. You should be proud yourself, too."

Margie was still crying too hard to talk, but she did manage to nod. Having her sit down so soon after her spanking wasn't the kindest thing Mrs. Chandler could have done, but then she added, "You may stay her as long as you need to. After you calm down, you can get dressed and leave."

Erica was good with the nuances of language, and realized that Mrs. Chandler has given Margie permission to stay in the outer office, but NOT given her permission to get dressed -- at least not until she was ready to walk out the door. She hoped Margie understood that she'd have be recover while still naked. Of course, that'd would probably speed her recovery too.

Mrs. Chandler stood up. "Have a good day, Miss Grayson." It must be her standard line. "Miss Santa Maria?"

Another of the young ones took a deep breath before putting her clothes to the side. Then, she stood and accompanied Mrs. Chandler in to see Dr. Frazier.

And, so the routine continued. A spanked tearful girl would exit, and another would be called. Erica watched. Nary a one left Dr. Frazier's office modest about her nakedness. Apparently Dr. Frazier's spankings were "just right"; they were strong enough to overcome body shame, but not so strong as to cause injury.

"Miss Hardin?" In she went, and out she came crying and rubbing her spanked butt. And, again, "Miss Billings," and another spanking was administered.

Then, "Have a good day, Miss Billings. Miss Reeder?"

Erica's number had just come up. She hadn't cried so far, and didn't start now. The butterflies in her stomach were normal she knew. She made up her mind to be dignified about this. She stood up, then swallowed. Hard to be dignified when your naked and about to get your ass beaten by a MAN you've barely even met, she realized.

But, as she stood up, Stan looked up at her. Somehow, him seeing her naked gave her strength. She smiled at him, then at Mrs. Chandler, and walked in to "face the music."

Mrs. Chandler positioned her in front of Dr. Frazier's desk, facing him. "Stand up straight," she said. "Arms at your sides." She then went and stood with her back to the door.

Dr. Frazier was studying a file folder. Erica guessed it was her file. He turned two or three pages, then looked up at her. "Miss Reeder."

He was disturbingly attractive for an "older" man, and his voice made Erica quiver. She felt her nostrils flare.

He steepled his fingers and looked her up and down. Erica blushed. She thought of the line from Hamlet where Ophelia said, "Then goes he to the length of all his arm; And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow, He falls to such perusal of my face As he would draw it." In contrast to Hamlet, Dr. Frazier seemed to want to do a full-body figure study of her.

"I've not seen you in here before," Dr. Frazier stated.

What... Does he memorize the body of EVERY girl he spanks? Erica wondered. But she said, "No, Sir." She thought the honorific would be a good idea.

He looked back at his file on her. "Mrs. McClintock reports that you impugned her pedagogical skill." Erica cocked an eyebrow at that, and suppressed a snort. "Several students in your class corroborate the claim," Dr. Frazier went on. "However, the file doesn't contain your precise phrasing. What was it again?"

"I... uhh... suggested she couldn't teach two rabbits in a cage how to mate... sir."

Dr. Frazier looked up at her again, and Erica was sure she saw the corner of his mouth quirk upward in a tiny smile. Then, it vanished and he cleared his throat. "Miss Reeder, you understand that Mrs. McClintock is a well-educated long-term member of this faculty who has been teaching longer than you've been alive."

"Yes, Sir."

"And you understand that, for the smooth conduct of class and the learning environment, we can't allow students to insult their teachers and disrupt class.........even if you happen to be correct. And I'm not saying you are." He looked right into her eyes.

You agree with me! Erica saw. "I understand, Sir."

"So we have the matter of disciplining you for your breach of good manners. You need a spanking." He returned to his file. "I don't see that your previous schools practiced corporal punishment, and I won't ask whether they did, or whether you've ever been spanked by anyone. For our purposes today, I will assume you haven't been."

Erica was not about to disabuse him of that notion.

"Miss Reeder, in light of your presumed inexperience, I'm going to give you a choice." He took a paddle -- the paddle she was sure -- out of the center drawer of his desk, and held it up. It was about two feet long, about eight inches across, and had two rows of three holes drilled through the non-handle end. "Five firm swats with this paddle, or lay over my lap for one hundred with my hand. Your answer should begin with the words, 'Please spank me with...' Do you understand your options?"

She thought quickly because she knew he wouldn't give her long to decide. The paddle would be excruciating but over quickly. The hand spanking wouldn't be as severe, would take "forever," and the pain would build. Then she remembered Jeff's raging poxy-looking butt, and decided. "Please spank me over your knee, Sir."

"With..." he prompted. "Please spank me with... Remember?"

"Oh. Please spank me with your hand, Sir. Sorry Sir."

"Very well. Mrs. Chandler is here as you know. She will count along with me and guarantee that you get neither too many spanks nor too few." Coming out from behind his desk, he retrieved a straight-back chair from against the wall and placed it behind where Erica stood. He sat down in the chair and, grasping her by the hips, moved her to his right side and turned her so she was profile to him. "Position yourself on my lap so that your pelvic bone is on my legs."

Erica thought for a second. There was no graceful way to get into position. Why try to be graceful when you're about to be spanked? she thought to herself. So she put hand on his leg and kind of crawled into his lap. He lifted her and moved her forward so that her feet were off the floor and she had to support her weight on her forearms so as not to fall on her head. Her butt was very nicely at the apex of the resulting bend in her body. She felt about as exposed as she actually was, but Dr. Frazier's lap felt good to her. He had muscles in his legs, and that voice of his still affected her low in the tummy.

"Bend your knees," Dr. Frazier ordered. "Only about ninety degrees," he added. "It will be more comfortable for you and will make the spanking work better. With your knees bent, it's very difficult to clench your hip muscles." Erica did as she was told.

"Now then, Erica...

He'd used her first name. That was new.

"I always find that people who've never been spanked try to be brave and tough. I counsel you not to do that. You should cry; let out your feelings. It's more cathartic. Okay? Are you ready?"

Erica nodded, then realized he probably couldn't see her head. "Yes." Here we go, she thought.

Dr. Frazier slapped her medium-hard right across the middle of both butt cheeks. Erica flinched then held still; and then waited...and waited. Why'd he stop?!?

"Good Erica. Let's proceed. That was one."

Dr. Frazier started low on her right hip, right about where her leg ended. He swatted her there, paused a couple of seconds, moved half a handwidth upward, and swatted her again. He continued up her right hip in half hand increments. The slaps were uniformly medium hard. It took five spanks to reach the top of her butt. He repeated the pattern on her left hip, then went back to the right again, starting at the top this time and working downward. Then the left hip starting from the top. He paused for about five seconds after those twenty slaps, the delivered a very hard one right across both hips again.

By now, Erica had figured out some things. She was pretty sure she knew his spanking pattern. She was equally sure that pattern would leave the whole of her backside thoroughly red, if not purple. She had learned that the slaps right where her butt joined her upper leg were really painful, but that the ones that bridged her butt cheeks hurt the worst. With the second of those, she couldn't hold it any longer, and began to cry aloud.

Her spanking kept going, and she quit analyzing it. The pain was building, and she cried harder and harder.

After a time, she realized she wasn't hearing any more slapping sounds. Her butt still hurt like the devil, but the room was silent save for her own noises. It must be over. Then, Mrs. Chandler was at her right arm and Dr. Frazier had a hold of her left, and they were helping her stand up. Mrs. Chandler held out a box of tissues for her to wipe her face. She grabbed several and dabbed at her eyes. I must look a mess.

Dr. Frazier had returned to his desk and was writing in her folder. He then looked up at her and said, "That concludes this matter, Miss Reeder," he said calmly. "I trust I won't see you in here again. Next time, you won't get a choice," he said meaningfully and looking at the paddle still on his desk. "Mrs. Chandler, please escort Miss Reeder out and bring in Mr. Parris.

Erica re-entered the outer office, feeling a bit light-headed. Probably hyperventilating a bit. Or maybe it's that too much of my blood is in my butt right now. She noticed that two more boys had joined Stan in the waiting room. She'd never seen three naked boys together in her life.

Stan was next and knew it. He looked up at her as she came through the door. As with the girls who'd preceded her, Erica was not effecting any modesty. Like them, she was busy rubbing the sting out of her butt. So, Stan got a good look at her -- finally. She nodded to him.

"Have a good day, Miss Reeder." There was that seemingly scripted line again. "Mr. Parris?"

Stan stood -- giving Erica her first good look at him naked -- and followed Mrs. Chandler into Dr. Frazier's office.

Erica went over to her chair, faced the wall, and began to dress -- slowly. She started with her bra and blouse because her butt felt swollen, and she was putting off having anything against it as long as she dared. When she dragged her panties over her hips. she winced. She winced again at the skirt, then grimaced when she sat down to put on her socks and shoes.

Finally, she was ready to return to class; and face everyone who knew she'd stripped naked and been spanked by the school principal. Making sure she still had her letter, she stepped out into the main office then out into the hallway.

Worth it, she thought with a little smile. Definitely worth it. Next time it'll be that paddle. What teacher can I insult next? And she walked to class with her head up.