| Subject: Waiting, waiting, while the Principal Meets with the Boys |
Author:
Jessica M
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Date Posted: 05:21:28 06/19/12 Tue
In reply to:
Jessica M
's message, "Overhead Paddling when visiting School" on 18:18:51 06/10/12 Sun
The Principal went into the outer office, and for the next several minutes I heard him discuss the final school pep rally of the year with the Captain of the Football team and the Captain of the Basketball team. School spirit was high, and everyone agreed there was ample reason to celebrate their respective team's winning seasons one more time before school ended next month.
The Principal shared his ideas about what the teams would do, and what the cheer squads would do, and what the band would play. It wasn't much interest to me; the paddle had my full attention as I contemplated the Principal's final words:
Your discipline is the priority here, not them boys. I want your buns sky high, and paddle ready."
Paddle ready I was, with my butt in the air, my legs and toes aching, and my midsection chaffing against the chair. A part of me just wanted to get it over with!
But then I would remember the tears in the eyes of the hulk leaving the office, and wish very much we'd run down the clock and he'd have to deal with me tomorrow.
Yeah. Fat chance!
Again, my position gave me amble time to contemplate the Principal's every word as I awaited the dispensation of justice. He said aid my discipline was the priority, but what did that mean? Clearly I couldn't break position…keeping me ready for my spanking (and letting me sweat it out) took priority over his meeting with the boys. Which meant I had to maintain position, for however long he decided to chit-chat.
Thinking he was gone, a part of me wanted desperately to stand up, and stretch, to relieve my aching muscles. But I didn't dare! I could hear the voices, and knew the door was open, but I couldn't tell by how much. Could they see my butt in the air? Were they looking now? No one in the group mentioned me, which suggested they did not.
Or perhaps, mindful of the protocol of such situations, the senior boys were simply politic enough not to mention it.
As they were talking, the Secretary returned, and I gasped as I heard the Principal tell her to "put the coffee on my desk." For this order, so casually given, would mean that the old fool would have to open the office door….
Sure enough, a few seconds later I felt a breeze as the door opened. I listened closely, and the conversation seemed to stop for a moment, but then resumed, with the Principal doing most of the talking. It was agonizing, watching thru the corner of my eye as the old biddy toddled to the desk with the coffee in hand, all the while wondering what, if anything, the teenage boys standing behind me could see.
At last she exited, and a few seconds later I heard the Principal's voice, "let me get that door," followed by another woosh across my bottom as the air sucked out of the room.
To this day I don't know where the boys were standing, or what they saw, if anything. But I know that up on my toes, with bottom sticking up, But not knowing allows my imagination to run riot, and even as I right this I'm blushing at the thought!
At last the meeting ended, and the Principal returned to his office. Standing besides my chair, I was once again treated to the sight of his enormous cheap black shoes.
"Do 'ya understand why 'yer being punished, Jessie? Or do you need more time to think?"
"No, sir, I understand."
"Why don't ya' tell me, then?"
Now he was going to make me EXPLAIN why I was being punished, and justify it to him. Bastard!
"I…forgot my laptop, sir, and couldn't give you the reports you needed. Naughty girls who forget their homework and leave their supplied at home need to be punished, sir."
"Yup, that's the gist of it," he said, apparently satisfied with my answer.
I gasped as he slid the paddle out from underneath my nose. By this time the scent of it made me want to puke, but I very much didn't want to see it moved into position!
"Most times I'd ask my secretary to watch, since 'yer a girl," he drawled. But I think this is a special case, and I might spare you the embarrassment."
I was a little surprised that he was interested in sparing me any embarrassment, but the next part of his speech revealed his true motive.
"Course, normally I pop the students over thar' uniforms. And this ayn't a uniform skirt, is it Jessie?"
"No sir," I admitted.
"The skirt looks mighty thick. Wool. Bet you ayn't wearing regulation underpants neither, are ya? Ya got fancy britches on, Jessie?" he said.
"Yes sir," I replied.
"Fancy hose ayn't knee socks, are they?" he asked rhetorically. "We paddle over the uniform, not fancy britches."
I gasped as he tapped my bottom again with the paddle. "Regulations say nothing should be between this paddle and your butt but your uniform. We may need to get some of these layers out of the way, young lady."
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