Sunday, December 11, 2016

The Principal's Bench

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© Guyspencer 2016

The Principal's Bench

One of the greatest episodes of my life started out very badly, on the Principal's bench. You see, I was waiting on a hard wooden bench outside my Principal's office, and dreading what would happen when she finally ordered me inside.

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As you have probably guessed, I was in big trouble. As a senior about to graduate from high school, I should have already learned to control my temper, but temper control was a problem for me. Already this year I had ended up in Mrs. Moor's office several times for fighting. The first time she merely counseled me, for the next incident she gave me “pops” over my jeans with her long paddle as I bent over her desk. Gradually my punishments escalated until the last incident, when I received my “pops” with my pants and underpants down south of my knees! But “pops” weren't the punishment that Mrs Moor reserved for the very worst offenders, She made it very clear that, should I offend again, my next punishment would be far more embarrassing and painful.

Thus, that day I sat on that bench with the full knowledge that the only punishment left for me, short of expulsion, was Mrs. Moor's worst punishment of all; a pants-down, OTK paddling.

And, typical for students in my small Christian high school, tonight I could expect a painful repeat performance courtesy of my parents.

Just then, I was entirely too wrapped up in my own troubles to feel sorry for Mary Whitfield, the other occupant of the bench. Since Victory Baptist is a small school I naturally recognized Mary, although neither of us wished to be recognized at that moment. Mary had arrived before me, and was obviously in some sort of big trouble herself. She sat at the other end of the bench, and was crying profusely.

Despite being a senior, I lacked a real girlfriend, having only managed a few unsatisfactory dates. Mary Whitfield could be described as one of my “teen crushes” but I had always been too shy to ever let her know. Now as she sat next to me, I glumly realized that she would probably associate me with this bad day she was obviously having, so she would never want to see me again!


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Our school's administrative office was typical for a small school. The entrance to the outer office was guarded by the clerk's desk. A nice lady from our church, Mrs. Edwards could almost be described as an Assistant Principal. Before she had directed me to this hard bench, I had to explain to her why I had been sent “to the office”, and then surrender the damming referral slip. Her response was to frown with disappointment, and then to point me to the dreaded bench, the bench where where the sobbing Mary Whitfield already waited.

After several minutes of us sitting on the bench whilst trying to ignore each other, Mrs. Edwards' phone rang. It was Mrs Moor telling her to send Mary in, so I cringed as I overheard Mrs. Edwards explain to the Principal that I was also “on the bench”, referred for “fighting again”.

And then, Mary Whitfield tearfully and hesitantly obeyed the clerk's command to knock on the Principal's door and then enter her feared lair. Mary closed the door behind her, sealing her own fate.


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You might wonder why a big guy like me fears Mrs Moor, a woman smaller than me. First, understand that our Principal started her teaching career as a Physical Education teacher in our town's public high school. Before that she was a college track star.

In her PE teacher days, she coached her school's track team, which always “kicked ass” all around our state. They were so elete that they didn't even play our little school. Later, she became the Assistant Principal of that high school, earning a reputation as a disciplinarian.

All that time, she had been a member of my church, Victory Baptist. So when our former Principal retired, Mrs Moor took the job.

Mrs Moor was married, but without children. That, and her athleticism had kept her in shape, even though she was twice my age. In fact, the guys in my school thought she was hot! Somehow her “hotness” made it even more embarrassing for a guy like me to be punished by her. And of course, the most embarrassing punishment of all would be to lay across her lap to have your bare ass walloped!


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Meanwhile, while I stewed on the Principal's bench, Mary was “on the carpet”.

I listened hard, but only random syllables escaped the feared office. Still, from the tone of Mrs Moor's voice, she was clearly lecturing poor Mary. I barely heard Mary's responses, but they sounded mostly like sobs.

And then it got quiet!

I jumped when the clerk's phone rang. She picked it up, listened, and then replied “Yes Ma-am” before hanging up.

As she stood to enter the Principal's office, Mrs Edwards fixed me with a glare that was clearly intended to keep me intimidated and still until she returned. It worked! I didn't move a muscle as I awaited events. Of course, I had been punished enough times to know that she had entered the Principal's office to serve as the required official witness to Mary's punishment.

Moments later, I heard Mary wail the irrational, desperate pleas of the about-to-be-spanked, “No! Please! I'll never do it again, I promise!”

When I heard the first paddle sounds, I knew that Mary wasn't just receiving “pops”. I have siblings and live in a strict family, so I know the sound of a paddle against bare ass-flesh, and this was that sound! Also, it wasn't the slow, measured sound of “pops”. No, this was the quicker sound of a bottom being peppered by a smaller but still painful weapon. Mary was getting an OTK bare-bottom paddling!

Just as Mary didn't go bravely and stoically to her fate, she didn't take her punishment well. Almost immediately she wailed loudly and her voice went up the register until she was squealing like the proverbial stuck pig! In her voice I could hear the jerkiness imparted by the paddle hitting her bottom and surely some of that jerkiness was caused by her own kicking and struggling.

Now as a teenaged boy I had a natural interest in the female body, and like most of the kids in my church and my school, I was tragically familiar with the OTK position. Thus, how could I not mentally picture the scene on the other side of that door?

In my mind's eye, I clearly saw the shapely young Mary with her school skirt up high and her panties dangling somewhere below her exquisite thighs. Helpfully, my mind's eye saw Mary kick off those panties, freeing her thighs to kick wildly and splay far apart. Even more helpfully, my mind's eye positioned me in the perfect place to catch glimpses of never-before-seen (by me) female anatomy.

Yes, I got hard.

Mary's paddling seemed to take forever, but not long enough to outlast my erection.

Her punishment finally ended, but her crying didn't. Finally the door opened, and Mrs Edwards led the sobbing girl out, her arm solicitously around the stricken girl's shoulder. She probably meant to hide them, but I saw something pink in the lady's hand; Mary's panties!

As Mrs Edwards passed the bench, she ordered me into Mrs. Moor's office. Naturally, given my locked-up stiffie, I preferred to sit. Looking in my eyes, she spoke with authority, her arm sweeping towards the open door, “Go. Now!”

Given the shape she was in, Mary couldn't have seen the bulge in my pants. However, Mrs Edwards couldn't have missed it. Still, she didn't blink, but continued to point until I finally shuffled into the forbidding presence of my Principal. Thinking back, that thin smile of greeting on Mrs Moor's face was probably a reaction to my condition. Sometime during the ensuing scolding for losing my temper, my unwelcome condition resolved itself. The “fight” I was being punished for hadn't actually come to blows, but only because of the prompt intervention of a teacher. The other student in the fight had a previously clean record, so he had been dealt with by the teacher.

The chair that the Principal apparently had used to spank Mary still occupied the middle of the floor. A paddle lay on the chair. I hadn't seen that paddle before, but had heard of it. Smaller than the one used for “pops”, it was shaped like a ping-pong paddle but thicker. It looked more intimidating than a hairbrush, and I had reason to fear hairbrushes!

Mrs Moor remarked grimly, “Apparently we are about to have a double header”.

I don't remember much of it, but I endured a long lecture. By now I was thoroughly contrite, so I listened as respectfully as possible, hoping to mitigate my coming punishment. Knowing that I had no excuse for my behavior, I offered no excuses, lame or otherwise.

Finally she paused to offer me a chance to talk. Her lecture hadn't quite made me cry, but I had a lump in my throat that made talking hard. Afraid that I would “lose it” if I tried to speak, I simply mumbled in what I hoped was a respectful manner. After a pregnant pause she passed judgment, “As I thought, you need a trip over my lap, and I intend to do an extra-good job. Off with your shoes and pants.”

Delaying only slightly, I bent over to untie my shoes, and then kicked them off. I looked beseechingly at her, “Can I just lower them?”

She punctuated her answer with a downward gesture, “Off!”

So off they came, leaving me in shirt, underpants, and socks.

She dialed her phone and spoke briefly, “I need you again”.

Moments later, Mrs. Edwards knocked and then entered.

Mrs Moor sat on her spanking chair holding her paddle. She smoothed her dress and then pointed imperiously to a spot near her right thigh. I knew what to do.

Once I was in the appointed spot, she pulled my arm. With the butterflies in my stomach protesting vigorously, I allowed myself to be pulled across her lap. That gave Mrs Moor view of my underpant-covered bottom. But she made it clear that my underpants had to go, “Lift up” she ordered, “so Mrs Edwards can arrange your clothing”.

I lifted my bottom, only to feel practiced fingers grab the elastic of my underpants and pull them south. I felt the fingers hesitate at my knees, but Mrs Moor ordered, “Take them right off! I need to do a good job on this young man.”

So Mrs Edwards did as ordered. I felt my underpants briefly snag a toenail and they were gone, a fond memory.

I guess I did better than Mary, because I managed to remain stoic until my spanking actually started. But after that, I quickly lost it! Mrs Moor started out walloping my bare hillocks hard and fast with that nasty little paddle! Almost immediately, I was squealing. Truthfully, I was squealing much like Mary had done. Yes, I was squealing like a girl! It was the ultimate embarrassment.

I know better, honest I do, but when the sting flared on my bottom, I reached back in a vain attempt to protect it. That didn't seem to bother the lady at all. Without missing a beat, she grabbed that naughty hand and imprisoned it in the small of my back. I suppose my kicking must have gotten downright violent as she lit that fire in my behind, because she stopped momentarily to say a few words to Mrs Edwards. And then I felt the clerk's hands firmly on my ankles. She pushed my feet down and held them immobile as my spanking resumed. Easily restraining the top half of me as she worked, Mrs Moor targeted my sit spots, ensuring that I would squirm miserably through my afternoon classes.

I don't know how many spanks I absorbed from that horrible paddle, but my ass must have been incandescent when she finally stopped. I have no way to measure, because both the time over her lap and the number of spanks both seemed infinite at the time. Afterwards, she restrained me in place for seemingly forever! I desperately wanted to rub the hurt from my bottom, but she kept me pinned down. Finally, she helped me to my feet, but steadied me until I demonstrated some semblance of balance. At long last, she released me so that I could do the things that freshly-spanked kids do. Still sobbing, I did three laps around that office in a wild butt-rubbing war dance.

Mrs Moor clucked gently as she caught me, and restrained me by the shoulders so that Mrs Edwards could put my underpants back on to restore my decency. Only then did I notice my exposure, but my face was too flushed to properly blush.

“Don't worry”, Mrs Moor said, surprisingly kindly, “We've seen much worse, and we don't tell.”

Replacing my trousers was a trial, but sensing that I didn't want to be dressed like a baby, the ladies kindly allowed me do it. I leaned against a wall for balance as I painfully pulled them on. The shoes were more difficult. After an abortive attempt at sitting, I squatted to tie them.

I was still a mess when Mrs Edwards led me from the Principal's office. By then I was starting to realize that I had really disgraced myself with my babyish antics while being spanked. My only consolation was that Mary hadn't been there to hear it! Always before, I had taken my “pops” without disgracing myself too much, but today's punishment had been on a whole new level.

Mrs Edwards stopped me at her desk to express hope that “I had learned something today”. I promised that I had, and then I apologized for “taking my punishment like a baby”.

“No,” she said, “Actually you did okay. Nobody takes a spanking like that quietly, and yours was deservedly worse than most. So don't feel bad.”

I was about to leave, but she told me, “One more thing.”

To my consternation, she turned and called “Mary!”

Shyly, Mary emerged from the small conference room where Mrs Edwards had allowed her to go “put herself back together.”

Reading the horrified look on my face, Mrs Edwards responded, “Yes, Mary heard your punishment, but you also heard hers! So now you two should make a solemn agreement, 'It's okay to tell your friends about your own punishment. But say nothing about the others. Don't even tell your closest friend.' Deal?”

For the first time ever, Mary seemed to notice me, and for the first time ever we locked eyes.

“Deal” I said, as I held out my hand to her.

“Deal” Mary repeated as she took my hand. Our skin touched for the first time ever!



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So we left the Administrative office together, two freshly spanked teens who had just shared humiliating experiences. Something about that emboldened me, so I declared, “I meant it! I won't even tell my best friend.”

“Thanks,” she replied, “Same here.”

I don't know where the sudden courage came from, but I couldn't let this chance go.

I babbled, “Can we talk sometime?”

And then I explained with a blush, “I mean not about this, I never want to think about this again. But can we talk about other stuff?”

She seemed surprised, but then smiled and nodded.

On scraps of notebook paper, we exchanged phone numbers.

But then it was her turn to blush, “Ummmm, don't call tonight. I won't be allowed to use the phone.”

“Yes,” I admitted, “I'll be in the same boat, so I understand.”

And then we went our separate ways.


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Like most kids in my school, my parents have a rule, “If you are punished in school, you will get it even harder at home.” So I knew what to expect.

Truthfully, my bottom still hurt that evening, so I begged my parents to wait a few days before spanking me again. They conferred, and then in retrospect they did the kindest thing: They took me up to my bedroom, made me strip, and then my father hairbrush-spanked my already-red ass whilst I squealed like a girl!

Yes it hurt, and it throbbed for the next week, but at least it was over! Also gone were my problems with temper control.

Over the following weeks I graduated and many exciting things happened, but the most exciting thing of all was that Mary and I became an “item”.


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So forty years later, Mary and I are an aging couple who dote on our grandchildren. It took time before we could laugh about the event that brought us together, but we finally did. And then we had an honest talk about our feelings about spanking. That led to some pretty good things! Perhaps that's why we've been so happily married all of these years?

The church replaced that old school building a few years back, so we were able to buy the Principal's bench.  Only our closest friends know why that worn thing holds a place of honor in our front foyer.


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© Guyspencer 2016



2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Very sweet

6:46 PM, December 20, 2016  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

This was a top notch spanking story! I loved it!

9:51 PM, February 19, 2017  

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