The long walk (M/f story)

A very short story, featuring no actual spanking. I wondered if it was worth uploading, but decided it had at least some merit.

Sally bit her lip as she walked down the long hallway. She could feel tears at the edges of her eyes, but she tried to hold them back, tried to fight them out of existence. She shouldn't cry, not yet at least. There would be plenty of time for that later. For at the end of the hallway was the headmaster's office, where the headmaster, and the headmaster's paddle, were waiting for her.

She silently cursed herself for falling for Alice's mind games yet again. Alice was the class's uncrowned queen of subtle insults, so subtle that the teachers rarely caught them. All they saw, were the reactions of the insulted, which all too often seemed unprovoked, if you had missed the beginning. Which the teachers nearly always had.

She felt the tears beginning to return as she thought about what awaited her at the end of the hallway. She shouldn't have slapped Alice, she knew that. But the smug smile of that horrible girl had just been too much, she couldn't control herself. Wiped the smile of her face, at least. For a little while.

She knew what was coming, of course. She'd been sent to the headmaster's office, and very rarely for a nice chat or tea and biscuits. She'd been paddled almost a dozen times, yet every time seemed worse than the last. She knew it was painful, extremely painful, yet it seemed at in the weeks between punishments, she'd forgotten just HOW painful they were. So every paddling seemed worse than the last.

He'd ask her to bend over the desk, of course, and then raise her skirt and lower her panties himself. She'd better hurry; she'd been too slow one of the first times she'd been punished, and he'd given her a few extra strokes. Going back to class, to that hard wooden chair, had NOT been comfortable, especially given Alice's smug grin.

She hoped Alice would receive her next paddling soon. She was always much nicer when she'd gotten her backside blistered good.

She was there. Just a thin wooden door between her and the paddling, between a pain that would bring tears to her eyes, blisters to her bottom and drive all rational thoughts from her head. She reached out, placing her hand on the door handle.