The principal knew that the math teacher, Mrs. Evans, would be in the lounge because she didn't have a class to teach during third period, and he gave one of the student assistants a note to deliver to her. About ten minutes later, the math teacher peeked in his doorway and knocked lightly to get his attention as he was concentrating on some paperwork. He looked at her and assessed what he saw. She was about 35 years of age, with a quite pretty face. He had known her since she joined the staff a little over 10 years ago, and in that time had put on some weight, but she still had a figure that would attract the attention of guys who didn't mind a little extra "junk in the trunk."
"Oh, there you are Mrs. Evans. Please shut the door and take a seat. I have something I need to discuss with you."
"Sure. Mr. Engels."
"I noticed that you were out sick yesterday, and I was wondering if you were feeling better today."
"Oh. I am much better. Yesterday, I couldn't get out of bed until afternoon, but the rest I got did me a world of good, and I feel much better now."
"I didn't realize you kept a bed down at the local Cracker Barrel restaurant," said the principal.
When he said this, Mrs. Evans at first had a confused look on her face, but when she realized that he knew she had been playing hooky the day before, her face grew pale. Still, she decided to try and bluff her way through and said, "I'm not sure what you mean, sir."
"You just told me that you were in bed until the afternoon, but my wife said that she saw you having breakfast with your husband at Cracker Barrel at around 8:30 in the morning, so naturally, I assumed that you must have a bed somewhere in the restaurant."
Realizing that she had been "busted", she said, "I'm sorry I lied about being sick. Sometimes, the kids here just drive me crazy, and I needed to take a mental health day."
"Now, Mrs. Evans, I know you think I have an easy job sitting up here in this office, but I don't. I am in charge of the budget for this school, and we have spent way more on substitute teachers this year than we had planned. Stunts like the one you pulled yesterday only make my job more difficult. I am afraid I am going to have to dock you a day's pay for being out when you weren't really sick."
"Please sir, don't dock my pay. My husband is out of work, and we need the money. Isn't there something else I can do to make up for what I did?"
"I'm not sure. Did you have something in mind?"
"I could come back at the end of the day so you could paddle me." They both knew that this is where the conversation was headed as soon as she had confessed lying about being sick. When the principal was going to spank one the teachers at the school, it was important to him that they were the one who suggested it. He never wanted to be in a situation where one of them could say he forced them to accept corporal punishment for one of their misdeeds. Mrs. Evans had been over his desk for a paddling many times in the past and probably would be over it again in the future since she was prone to doing things that didn't seem all that bright at times.
"I think that a good, sound paddling is going to be the best solution for both of us. Go ahead and give me your panties, and I'll return them after I blister your backside at the end of the day."
She was wearing slacks today, so it was a little harder for to get her panties off than it would have been if she had been wearing a skirt. Once she removed her slacks, she pulled down her panties and handed them to him. He thought it was a shame that this pair was two sizes larger than ones she had worn when he had paddled her for the first time 10 years before.
One thing that did not disappoint him was the hairy bush between her legs. He didn't understand all the fascination with shaving and waxing woman's pubic hair today. Although spanking was his all-time, number-one favorite fetish, be had appreciated a woman with a lots of hair "down there" ever since he had been a freshman in college. Although he had banged a few girls in high school, he'd never gone down on one until he got to college, and the young lady who had taught him how to please a woman with his tongue had the thickest bush he had ever seen. All the time he spent with his face in it his freshman year caused him to develop a secondary interest to go along with his spanking fetish.
The woman that taught him about "eating at the Y" was a tutor that the athletic department hired to help him and the other football players keep their grades up so that they would stay eligible to play. His tutor for freshman English was an extremely attractive young women whose family was from some Mediterranean county, and in addition to teaching him about iambic pentameters, she also taught him some pussy-licking skills that would ultimately prove a lot more useful to him in the long run. He really couldn't remember her face anymore, but he would never forget her beautiful olive skin tone and her lovely, lovely bush. Even today, seeing a woman with a patch of thick hair between her legs would take him back to his college days and make him feel young again.
He had called ahead to let his wife know that he had "something to take care of after school." His wife and he had come to an agreement ever since she found out that he had been paddling his wife's niece after school to help the young teacher overcome a perversion that she didn't seem to be able to control. The agreement was that he could paddle anyone he wanted to, provided that he understood that his tongue and his cock belonged to his wife and were not to be shared with anyone else. He had agreed to her terms, and for the past year had followed them to the letter.
When Mrs. Evans came back at the end of the day, no real explanation of what she needed to do was necessary since Mr. Engels had paddled her numerous times in the past. She shut the door to his office, removed her slacks, placed them on the visitor's chair, bent over the principal's desk, and gripped the far side tightly. Once the teacher had presented her bottom for punishment, the principal, said "Okay, Mrs. Evans. For playing hooky yesterday, I am going to give you 12 swats with the paddle I have used on you before. You know it's going hurt, and I know it's going to hurt, but it's something that needs to make sure you don't play hooky again. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mr. Engels," she send in a voice that conveyed how afraid she was of her impending punishment.
Looking at Mrs. Evans he decided to give her four sets of three swats. In each set, one swat would be at the crown of hips, one swat would be a little bit lower, and one swat would be right on her sit spots. He drew the paddle back and delivered the first swat, waited a few seconds, delivered the next one, waited a few seconds more, and delivered the third. Her ample backside jiggled and reddened up really nicely after just three swats. Mrs. Evans had let out a little groan after the third swat, but otherwise she acquitted herself quite well.
During the second set of three swats, she had a much harder time hiding her reaction to the pain the paddle was inflicting on her. After each swat, she moaned and started wiggling her backside in a vain attempt to dissipate the growing ache in her bottom. As the principal looked at her increasingly red backside, he thought to himself that, although Mrs. Evans' butt had grown a little big for his taste, she could certainly take a paddling better than most of the other teachers he'd spanked over the years.
After the third sets of swats she called out in a somewhat desperate sounding voice, "Please stop. It hurts too much. I promise I'll never play hooky again."
"I am going to give you a short break, but you're going to have to take all 12 of your swats. You say you won't play hooky anymore, but I'm afraid you might backslide if I don't give you the punishment that you really deserve."
"I'm sorry for being so weak. It's just that you haven't paddled me in quite a while."
"Okay. That's enough talking. Get ready for the last three," he said as her delivered three swats using the same pattern as before – one across the crown of her hips, one a little lower, and one right across her sit spots. He used more force with this set, and by the time he finished, her entire bottom was crimson. In addition, her body shook as she cried tears that signaled how badly her bottom ached from the accumulated effect of 12 swats from his paddle.
When she told her it okay to stand up, she was still crying, and feeling sorry for her, he hugged her. His hands slid down her to grab her large, soft butt cheeks that felt amazingly hot to the touch. As they were hugging she straddled his right leg and began to rub herself lasciviously on him. When she realized what she was doing, she stopped in an apologetic tone said, "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I've never admitted it to anyone before, but even though it hurts when I'm being paddled, it also turns me on, and I lost control of myself for a minute."
Although he would never tell anyone that he liked to be spanked just as much as he liked to spank others, he said, "No need to apologize. You're not the first teacher to be turned on by having their hide tanned in my office."
.... There is more of this story ...