PSYCHOLOGY by Joe Whatever "I agree that denting your car and driving away without leaving a note was inexcusable," the girl's mother said. "But is corporal punishment absolutely necessary?" "It is essential," the headmaster replied. "Are you familiar with the procedure?" "No," the woman replied, nervously. "Perhaps you can brief me." "Much of the impact is psychological, not physical," the headmaster explained. "I don't hit all that hard; the shame and humiliation are the real punishment." "I start by ordering the offender to her feet, and telling her that she has some explaining to do," he chuckled, "while I tap the paddle against my palm. It's quite amusing really, watching the poor girl stare at the paddle as she sweats and fidgets and pleads for mercy." He snickered. "Age vanishes; as soon as she sees me holding that paddle, she turns into a tongue-tied little girl. "After she is over my knee, I take my time questioning and scolding her," he said, merrily. "By the time I raise her skirt and begin toying with the waistband of her panties, the girl's a wreck. Tell me, how old is your daughter?" "Nineteen," the mother replied. "At that advanced age, the shame and humiliation of having your underpants lowered for a spanking is as bad as the punishment itself," he explained. "I draw out the suspense and let the girl frantically plead to keep her bottom covered. But in the end I always spank on the bare...the older the girl the better." He nodded. "Running my hand over the girl's bare bottom magnifies her discomfort and embarrassment," he continued. "If all goes well, she is crying long before the spanking even begins. Mostly I use my hand; the paddle is just a capper," he said, pedantically. "A few hours standing out in the main hallway with a sign on her back, bottom bared for one and all to see, is highly therapeutic." "Actually, sir, my daughter wasn't driving that day," she said, quietly. "Really? Well, whoever WAS driving will be punished instead." "I was driving," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. He stared in stunned disbelief at the 38-year-old woman sitting across the desk from him. She was slender, with striking green eyes and long auburn hair. A most attractive package.... With effort, the headmaster regained his composure. His smile faded as he barked, "On your feet, young lady." The surprised woman obediently rose to her feet, and a trickle of sweat ran down her back. He picked up the paddle. "You have some explaining to do, Missy!" he said harshly as he began tapping the paddle against his palm. Her mouth turned to cotton; her hands trembled. The years melted away as she stood pigeon-toed in front of his desk, hands behind her back and head down, awkwardly stuttering excuses as she stared at the menacing paddle.... Edited by C. Lakewood