Joan glanced at the stack of papers at her desk again, as if she had hoped it would have shrunk since the last time she looked at it. To her disappointment, it hadn't.
While Joan loved her job as a principal at a small school, she wasn't too keen on the paperwork that it entailed. The stack on her desk seemed to grow larger every day, and it was hard for her to start working on it. It was Thursday afternoon, and it looked like she had to spend all weekend on it.
As she heard the bell ring, and the noise as the pupils ran home, she decided to walk the halls for a bit, and see if there was anything worth her attention. And as she reached the southern entrance of the school, she spotted something quite unusual in one of the classrooms.
Mary Wilkins, one of the more scatter-brained girls in the school, was bending over the teacher's desk, with her skirt raised and her panties at her ankles, as her teacher stood behind her lecturing her, with a wicked-looking paddle in his hand. Will Stewart was the newest teacher in the school, and though he was quite young, he seemed strangely old-fashioned to some of the other teachers.
Joan wondered whether she should make her presence known, but decided to stay in the doorway, watching what transpired. Corporal punishment was still officially part of the school rules, but most of the teachers elected not to use it – as did Joan herself. Pupils being sent to the principal's office could expect a stern lecture, but needn't fear their ability to sit.
His lecture complete, the teacher lifted the paddle, patting it gently against the quivering cheeks in front of him. With a slow movement, he raised it up, before bringing it crashing down on the girl's defenceless bottom. The loudness of the hard wood on soft flesh made Joan gasp silently, while Mary's reaction was somewhat louder.
Stroke after stroke landed, and Mary jerked around and cried out, but somehow, she managed to stay in position. Will had a grim determination on his face, but he didn't say anything. The time for lecturing had passed.
Finally, when Mary's bottom had turned red and the tears had turned to loud sobs, Will put the paddle down, helping the girl to her feet. He allowed her to rub her poor posterior, before giving her a hug and telling her to do better in the future.
As Mary dried her tears, she picked up her backpack, and giving her teacher a quick hug, she left the classroom, still rubbing her stinging rear. Joan ducked out of the way as the pupil left, not wanting to cause her further embarrassment by revealing her punishment had been witnessed. Mary didn't as much as glance around her as she left, her head still occupied with her pain.
Joan entered the classroom, where Will was gathering up a few papers. “A bit of after-class discipline to aid her education, Will?” Joan asked as she entered.
“Ah, Miss Winters,” Will smiled as she entered. “You saw that little session? Yes, a necessary part of our job sometimes. Some girls learn better when they're forced to sit gingerly.”
“I've told you before, you can call me Joan,” she said. “We're not that formal around here.”
“There's nothing wrong with respect for a superior,” Will replied.
Joan dropped the matter. Will liked to hold himself to strict standards. Fortunately, he never demanded that others followed his example, so no one minded.
“What did she do to make you punish her like that?” Joan asked.
Will shook his head. “Mary forgot her homework one time too many. A bright girl, when she wants to be, but lacking in discipline. I gave her a choice – a good paddling, or a few days of detention. She picked the former.”
“Forgotten her homework?” Joan asked.
“Yes. I've seen it before – there's so much homework to do, but rather than starting early and working on it, these young girls put it off or forget about the whole thing. Now, she has something to refresh her memory.”
Later that evening, Joan couldn't stop thinking about what Will had said. A sore bottom, to help the girls remember their homework? Joan glanced at the stack of papers at her desk, and had a funny feeling in her stomach.
As the Friday school-day grew to a close, Joan sat in her office. It was still hard to focus on her paperwork, but today, she wasn't thinking about sunny days on the beach, like she ordinarily did. Another image was clear in her mind, and no matter how much she tried to shake it out, it was still with her. She'd told Will she wanted to see him when the day was over, and she watched as the clock ticked ever closer to a meeting she knew would be one of the more memorable of her life, no matter how it turned out.
The school closed at two. At a quarter past, there was a quick knock at her door. Will entered, glancing around him. As far as she knew, the school would soon be empty, apart from the two of them.
“You wanted to see me, Miss Winters?” he said.
“I did. Have a seat,” Joan replied, starting to feel a blush on her face. This was going to be a very embarrassing conversation for her. Will sat down, waiting patiently for her to begin.
“When you... punished Mary yesterday, to help her remember her homework... does it work?”
Will frowned, a bit surprised at the question. “Not with all the girls, no. I don't paddle every girl in class, only the ones I think it'll have a positive effect on. I know it works with Mary – she's been through it before, and her behaviour has always improved. As have her manners, as a matter of fact.”
Joan tapped her pen against the desk. “Well, I have a slight problem. You see, my stack of paperwork grows larger and larger, and I.... “ she swallowed. “I don't know what to do.”
Will shrugged. “If you don't have the time for the paperwork, hire another secretary.”
Joan blushed even redder. She needed to be more obvious. “No, it's not that I don't have the time. It's that I don't take the time. In don't... there's so much, it's hard to begin. It just sits there and...” She took a deep breath, steeling her nerves. “I think I might need something to remind me. Like Mary.”
Nothing was said for quite some time, and the only sound Joan heard, was the beating of her own heart – which was quite loud at this point.
“Miss Winters”, Will said calmly. “Are you asking me to do what I think you're asking me to do?” Joan glanced to the side, not wanting to look him in the eye.
“Are you asking me to paddle your bottom for you?”
She felt faint, and for a second, she was convinced she was going to pass out. “It was a stupid request, just forget about it, I think that maybe I can handle this myself, just-” she knew she was rambling, but she couldn't stop herself.
Will leaned forward, putting his hand on hers, and she stopped, staring at him.
“If you want me to do this,” he said quietly. “I will. Don't feel ashamed.”
She took a deep breath, and replied, “I do.”
The paddle in Joan's office hadn't been used for some time – Joan had taken it out of its cupboard once, when she got the job, but had never used it. And she wasn't sure that the man who had the job before her, had ever used it either. It was a large, evil-looking wooden implement, with the words “Principal's paddle” written on it. Those words were going to have a new meaning after today.
Will had picked up the paddle, swinging it through the air a couple of times. Every whoosh of air made Joan feel light-headed, as she imagined the heavy wood impacting her bottom. Soon, she wouldn't have to imagine any more.
“Please drop your trousers, and bend over the desk,” Will commanded her.
She looked down at her jeans. “Do I have to take them down? Can't... Can't I keep them on?” He looked at her, and she continued. “It's embarrassing.”
“Yes, that's part of the punishment. And no, you can't keep them. If I can't see the state of the bottom, I can't see how it's hurting you – I don't want to seriously injure you. Now do as I say, Joan.”
Joan. That was who she was right now. Not Miss Winters, the successful principal and respected superior. Joan, the naughty girl about to the paddled for forgetting her homework.
With her jeans around her ankles, she bent over the desk. Will allowed her to keep her panties on, as they didn't cover much, but she knew he was still getting a good look at parts of her body few men got to look at.
“How many?” she asked nervously as the paddle patted against her cheeks.
“I don't work with a number like that,” he told her. “I just continue until I feel you're sufficiently sorry for what you've done.”
The first stroke came as a surprise, a sudden impact on her cheeks that made her cry out in pain as a powerful warmth started to spread. Another stroke, and she could feel the tears coming as spank after spank landed. She soon started to wriggle her sore rear, as if to get away from the pain, but it was in vain – Will had some experience with the implement, and every stroke landed where he meant it to.
The sting grew, and soon, it felt like a great fire was burning her bottom – she cried, she kicked her legs, and finally, she jumped to her feet, hopping from foot to foot as she rubbed her bottom.
“It hurts,” she whined as she looked pleadingly at Will.
“It's supposed to,” he said, but there was a comforting tone to his voice. “Joan, I can't make you bend back over that desk. But you wouldn't have asked me to do this if you didn't think you need this punishment. And there is no doubt in my mind that you can take it, if you really try.”
Slowly, as if approaching her own execution, Joan bent back over the desk.
She had no idea how long the paddling continued, but she was sobbing loudly long before it ended. Afterwards, Will hugged her for a long time, letting her cry into his shirt as she promised to do better in the future.
Restoring her clothing took some time, as the tight jeans were not ideal on her poor bruised backside, but after some time, she was attired again. With her tears dried, she thanked Will for his guidance. Will placed the paddle back in its cupboard.
“So, Miss Winters, I'll see you on Monday, then?”
Now, it was Miss Winters again. And she knew that it would be, until the next time she needed his help like this. He wouldn't breathe a word of this to anyone. That was one of the reasons she chose him.
“See you on Monday, Will,” she replied with a smile.
That evening, she was sitting in her living-room, a large, comfy pillow protecting her posterior, as she started on the mountain of paperwork. She worked harder that day than she had in months.
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