Dear band members,
Here is my story and I believe it ranks as one for the books. It all started when a boy in the seventh grade I knew relied on guidance backed up by experience and went bat ass crazy. You see boys girls, I took it upon myself and even though I was egged on, I was the one who got up and wrote Marty’s name on the board for the teacher to find when she came back ... We had all been told if our name was on the board we would be paddled when she got back. Now, up on the blackboard in bold face letters there was his name written on the blackboard in chalk.
An addition to that was capable of making a paddling a much more painful experience. The caveat in the rule could be quite nasty! It stated if only one name was written on the board for talking while the teacher was out, then when the number of swats would be doubled. Our teacher’s thinking was if only one name was written on the board, then the student had no excuse that another student got them talking and it wasn’t their fault. When Marty saw his name up in chalk for talking in class. He started huffing and puffing while his classmates giggled softly as to not be heard in the hall. I knew Art had a crush on me, but I also was damn pissed that he looked up my skirt ant my panties.
That was the determining factor for why I went along as the rest of the class did, but I was the most culpable because I had given him my majorette present of a super hard paddling. Without me, it just wouldn’t have happened. He was required to spin the dial on the game of ‘Life’ which was part of the game board. Marty spun the dial and it stopped on four. I failed to bail him out and we all heard not four but eight swats and Marty’s whimpers, cries and as a finale, downright sobbing, all coming from behind the room divider on the other side of the classroom. I must admit part of me wanted to stop his paddling, but the other half of me was too busy with vagina secretions pooling into the seat of my panties as I set in my desk seat.
Now, girls, we all know boys get paddled a whole lot more frequently then us girls and for good reason. Daw-g-one-it, he did look at my panties as I was sitting down in my skirt. Marty deserved to have is name put on the board for that anyway, but that would have been to embarrassing to tell teacher! This was the same math teacher had us both in Junior High. Where the pretty majorette got me paddled...
Girls, it is now our senior year and Marty has been, so open in his ‘Cupid Strikes mantra that Tim my boyfriend tells Marty as we build our class votes for homecoming, that he can have me! Well, I tell yah girls this bothered me and made me mad at Marty. I mean I was fuming and in another capricious moment, actually I set my admirer up and I made sure the same teacher that had paddled Marty in our junior high school, who was the only one who Marty had been in trouble for looking up my skirt at my panties. All his other teachers knew nothing and he was a good boy and would not be called out by them for a spanking with their wooden paddle.
Girls, as you know all our parents signed the form which gave permission to spank with a wooden paddle during any school year as they saw fit. That set the scene for what I did to show my displeasure because of his fawning over me the prettiest majorette in our class in a fashion that Tim told him, he could have me.
In high school we both played on the same volleyball coed squad. Marty did manage to give me a harder than others ‘pop’ actually a spank from time to time when I made an excellent play for our team. It was in this spirit of giving I gave Marty a present on our holiday trip with the marching band and Carousel pageant. I decided his crush deserved more than just a strong rebuke. It was in that frame of mind, girls I set his ass up to get paddled once again.
Unfortunately for Marty the lady in charge of Carousel for our school had a nickname and it fit, “The paddling teacher!” I love strict teachers who wield a paddle and I knew she would do a wonderful job on Marty’s bottom, again just like she did back when she taught us in Junior High.
Funny how things work out! Last year this same teacher had married Marty’s father and subsequently, his bottom was certainly left sore inside and out as his stepmother punished him as I wet my panties with joy droplets. It would do him good and his behavior improvement would be worth the pain. That is his pain!