A paddling due (M/F story)

Michelle took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves. She was about to tell Peter, a lovely man she'd been dating for just a short while, something she'd never told anyone about, something that had been her dark little secret for more than a decade. She felt a bond with him, like she'd never felt with anyone before, and she wanted him to know everything about her. Even the ones that rarely saw daylight. Her nerves calmed, and she told him about the time she wasn't paddled.

"There were four of us, that day in high school." she explained. "Caroline, Helen, Janet and me. They were the cool kids, the girls that always got into trouble. I tagged along a few times, but wasn't really one of the gang. Even though I wished it."

She smiled to herself as the memories washed over her, of friends she'd long since lost contact with. "On that day, Helen had got her hands on a pack of cigarettes. She probably got them from her older sister – she saw it as her duty to corrupt the young ones. Someone had to do it, after all."

"And you smoked them?" he asked.

She shrugged. "We tried to. We hid in one of the bathrooms during lunch, and were sure we wouldn't be caught. We were, of course. The teachers were quite aware that if anyone got into any mischief, it would most likely be during the lunch break, so they made regular patrols. One of the teachers found us crammed into one of the stalls, and we were hauled off to the Head Mistress's office."

She was staring off into space, lost in the memories. "I was more scared than you could imagine. The others had been there dozens of times before, but it was the first time I was really in trouble. What you imagine in your head is often scarier than the reality.

She was lecturing us about the dangers of smoking, and about how the school rules were there for our protection, or some nonsense like that." She shrugged. "I wasn't really paying attention. You see, on the wall behind her, hanging proudly, was the school paddle. I'd heard the tales, but I'd never seen it myself. It was incredibly scary, especially since I knew it was likely she'd use it.

As her little lecture ended, it was becoming apparent that she was actually planning to use the paddle on us. The thought of bending over her desk, sticking my bare little bottom out while she used the paddle on it.... I grew light-headed, and wanted to run far away. But then she looked at me and told me I wouldn't be paddled."

"Why not?"

She smiled. "I'd never been in trouble before, and she knew I wasn't really part of the gang. She guessed I had been persuaded to do it, and hoped that watching the others being paddled would be enough to make me behave. Make me fear the paddle, and fear being in trouble.

One by one, I watched my friends bare their bottoms, bend over the desk, and squeal in pain as the Head Mistress paddled them. They squirmed quite a bit, I'll tell you."

He looked distant for a second, a grin on his face. "I can imagine."

She pouted. "Well, stop it, then. Anyway, that was sort of the end of our group. I still hung out with them, but we were never friends in the same way as before. I hadn't been punished, you know? I got off while they were paddled, and they resented that. Never quite the same." She sighed. "But somehow, I still find myself thinking about it so often."

"About what?"

"About being in that room, looking at that paddle and thinking of having it applied to my backside. About being bent over that desk while I squeal in pain, squirming around as I pay for my misdeeds. I should have been punished with them."

He sat there, silently thinking. "There's something else, isn't there," he said at last. "You don't just need to be paddled. You want it, don't you? There is some part of you, some voice in your head, that actually WANTS to feel the wood of the paddle on your bottom." She didn't say anything, but he could see in her eyes that he'd hit closer to the mark than she would have liked.


It was a Friday afternoon, just a few days after she had shared her little memory with Peter, and she could scarcely believe what was happening. She was standing outside his study, dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a somewhat modest blouse, about to step inside for a paddling. He'd promised to give her what she'd dreamt of all these years, to scratch that never seemed to go away, no matter how hard she had wanted it to.

"Come in."

On shaking knees, she entered. Peter was wearing a nice suit, looking more authoritative than she'd ever seen him. On the desk in front of him was a big wooden paddle. She wouldn't even try to guess where he'd gotten it.

"Now, young lady, I understand that you got caught smoking recently."

"Yes, sir." Standing there, looking at that paddle as he started to lecture her.... She could feel herself growing wet.

"And the Head Mistress didn't paddle you for this transgression?"

"No, sir."

"Well, I'm afraid that won't do, young lady. We can't have girls breaking the rules and not get punished for it. So today, I'm going to give you the paddling the Head Mistress SHOULD have given you."

"But sir, I'm sorry!"

"You'll be a lot sorrier before we're done, I can promise you that." He stood up, picking up the paddle and tapping it against his palm. "Lower your trousers."

With shaking hands, she undid the button on her jeans, lowering them to her knees. At his command, her panties followed. She trembled as she stood there, naked from the waist down, waiting for him to tell her to bend over and stick her bottom out. She didn't have to wait long.

"Now, I'm hoping you'll learn your lesson from this," he told her as he patted the paddle against her quivering rear end. "I'd hate to have to do it again." He swung the paddle.

Michelle cried out in pain as the hard wood of the paddle slammed into her cheeks, followed by a similar stroke seconds later. In all her years of imagining this moment, she'd never quite realized how much it HURT!

Her hands clutched the far side of the desk as the paddling continued, and she tried to stop herself from reaching back. The heat from the paddling spread through her, and she groaned with every stroke from the blasted piece of wood. Soon, tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she knew she wouldn't sit comfortably for quite some time.

Then, after what seemed like an eternity for her, he put the paddle down and helped her to her feet. She cried into his shirt as he held her close, telling her what a brave girl she'd been. They stood there, embracing, as the pain from the paddling shook through her.