Chapter 14: Our Principal; Purveyor Of Pain

In our high school, my principal is the head and the one and only, true authoritarian force on the faculty. He ruled, one could say with wood. A good wooden, ‘oak paddle’ which he managed to always kept nearby. The importance of that will become crystal clear as I tell my ‘tale of woe.’ It all begins with the premise that our principal is in one word, anal.’ By this I mean he is a stickler for order. Rule breakers are frowned upon as is individuality in thought. He much prefers a herd mentality and that any demonstration of individual thought needs to be nipped in the bud and dealt with corporal punishment. Furthermore he believes women are to be in subjection to males, which is a bad thing for me, a rebel-rouser, much like the other young women in our high school gang. I’m sure that means a lot more spankings then either, Cordelia, the snobby, stuck-up, head cheerleader, but not the average ‘valley girl’ I once thought. However, she does like to show off for the in-crowd sisters and brothers in playing the ‘my shit doesn’t stink.’ Card. But, this tale doesn’t feature her comeuppance. At least not this time!

Principal Snyder loves two things rules and order. Without fail in his life he treated my classmates and me until I was elevated to temporary teacher with an unweaving demand for respect, and was a stickler to the abeyance and adherence as a stickler for rules and deeply thought rule breakers must be in most cases male or female be given a brisk taste of his lap-size (twelve inch) blade wooden paddle. But, he does most definitely expect them to obey the school rules, dictator-like and set by him. He is, let’s face it, an abusive sadistic person in his mannerism and how he carried out spankings/paddling, both burn-filled forms of dreaded corporal punishment. Nobody, certainly not his staff would stand up, stop the kiss his ass mentality and provide the headship with the leadership before he manages to skirt the rules. Him, our beloved principal using terror, threats and blackmail to administer over the top punishing corporal punishment. Although she who had complained had not been believed and expelled to put it bluntly Snyder would have it his way and anyone who did not follow his lead and didn’t turn a blind eye to his pull down panties shenanigans was branded a trouble maker and replaced for disloyalty. The fact was no male in a position of power via the board was allowed to pull a member of the opposite sex under-panties down. However, the lifting or lowering of an undergarment for a spanking on their pantied butt was fine and frankly encouraged to get the message across without the butt buffer of slacks, jeans, dress or in this case, short blue jean skirt.

Which brings me to my very first teaching dilemma and the swift punishment my action caused one who just days ago was my classmate. Looking back and reflecting, so, much had changed in a short period of time since the sudden demise of our very smart, computer teacher, Miss Calendar. It had all started when Anya let out a fart in the classroom. Mind you this was not an accident as the blonde-haired cutie claimed, it was deliberate and released while seated at her desk from between her buns as loud as she possible could to disrupt my class. Still, when called out for making the unladylike noise, Anya thinks it is entirely unfair that I sent her to the certain doom of her twin moons. If only I had done a better job of my work around the class that she would have respected and cut out the infamous ‘Bronx Cheer.’

That’s right after I had informed the office that a misbehaving female student was being sent to him for correction, in tears the blonde-haired girl with shoulder length hair was in tears. “I didn’t fart, Miss Willow, honest. It was a Bronx Cheer, you know one made with my mouth. “Class dismissed and you young lady head down the hall to the principal’s office without further delay! Anya stomped her foot, considered a tantrum and thought better of it as she moved out of the class and down the long hallway. I hollered after her,” it’s not my fault you said, it’s funny to do a Bronx cheer, but I interpreted an unladylike fart. So, I’m not sorry!” Anya needs to learn to be obedient!

Principal Snyder is responsible for assuring that learning under his direction was carried out. As the long blonde haired beauty with hair of gold that flows down her back I noticed as she got up to leave class. I knew it was taboo lusting after her butt. However, I snuck another glance at her, particularly her well rounded bottom. It was then and there, at that moment, naughty or not, I decided I made up my mind I wanted to see that red behind around the leg holes where the green cotton panties would surely ride up, especially when her paddling got going good. Still, it would be a thin swatch of skin as I peeked at the result would be red. I would know Anya sported at least the same shade of red or even darker coloring often expected by such a spanking by our principal. I bet after Anya’s paddling she would follow directions and not do her damndest to crack up my class with her juvenile distractions.

Lucky, given my current desire to see a female’s panty-clad bottom roasted! Thanks to Buffy, I knew just how to be a ‘nosy parker.’ Months ago Buffy had by crawled up in the crawlspace in the ceiling to give her access to the monster savaging the school’s participants in Parent Teacher Night.

I had watched with fascination, yesterday as Cordelia worked her charm on Principal Snyder. I knew if she continued her ‘sweet talk’ almost taunting her principal that Principal Snyder would eventually spank her. I wondered when the pretty blonde-haired, shoulder length locks would find herself locked by one of Snyder’s leg for a long overdue spanking with his wooden paddle. I wondered just when it would be that our high school principal finally decide he had had enough and would seek the pretty head cheerleader’s presence in the ‘doom room, ‘as all the students including me called Principal Snyder’s office in private conversations.

I crawled into the attic heading toward Snyder’s office. That’s when I heard the first crack. From the distinct sound it made he was obviously using his short blade, ‘oak paddle on the poor girl I had sent to the principal’s office to have her poor bottom roasted by a professional. I knew Principal Snyder rarely if ever used the paddle and wondered what had happened for him to up the ante, so to speak. I soon had crawled down the ceiling crawlspace and made my way all the way down until I arrived at my chosen destination right above Snyder’s office. It was there I was able to take advantage of the crack which allowed a person situated as I currently was to peer down into the office and peep on the paddling in progress below me. To say I was shocked was an understatement. I was flabbergasted by the fanny I saw draped over the panted legs of our Sunnydale High principal. I mention that he was panted because he was the only one in the office wearing pants, if you get my drift.

From Inside The Principal’s Office:

“Anya, my blonde student beauty for farting in class, truly a distractive movement, you will receive what I can only imagine will be a fierce fart-filled flat-out fanny whacking!

A large portrait of one ruler of The British Empire, Queen Charlott a King, she was not majestically hung on the wall dominating the room in front of the errant tall blonde. Almost ceiling high silver aluminum tree with a slow spinning color wheel below that projected red, blue and a purple coloring back up onto the man-made holiday tree. Oh, for how long I had wanted to turn the goodie-two shoes, blonde-haired honor student’s bottom. I remember the orange rectangle square with the H. Bowel Drug above and below the blue oval sign and spelled out Rexall. Made me long to put my fattest, longest thick finger up her rectum.

The drug store also had tall old-time booths of yesteryear. They were back to back with tables all made of wood and painted a dark brown. It was in the downtown and the sign when lit looked shiny and bright when lit. I wanted to make the eighteen year-old senior blonde’s bottom, shiny and bright! Oh would I give to see that sight, but that would be against school policy. My thoughts turned to her shiny gold hair. I imagined if her bottom was bare the golden strands would touch and tease her bottom crack. And, in part that was the single solitary moment if you will, when I through caution away like a fart in the wind.

“Principal Snyder, sir, I told you it was a Bronx Cheer with my hands not a fart from my bottom.” Embarrassed her cheeks soon became hot. The cheeks turned red on my blonde’s face at her use of the word ‘bottom,’

“Principal’s don’t spank their students on the bare with their panties down! Besides, I am too old to be spanked on the bare bottom as a eighteen year-old, teenager.”

“I want your bared bottom over my lap now; Anya, or else I will make damn sure they send your butt off this campus for good and you won’t get that shiny new diploma,” Principal Snyder said in an assured tone that brooked no refute.

Now that her bottom was bare that argument was moot. Like a toot in the wind. Tailor ware with a trick seat pair of curtain panties assured modesty even when opened fully and thusly baring the snow-white hillocks of her baby-fat bottom cheeks. She knew he was surveying her bare cheeks now, so, in protest she raised her blonde-haired head up and looked up at Charlotte a king less empire ruled by a woman. it made her fantasize that it was her devious principal that was upended and awaiting the terrible burn of the ‘oak wood paddle on his own round, fat bottom. Then she wields the power over men including her paddle happy principal. Instead she did what she could do, wail and whine to him as well as voice her opposition to her upcoming paddling.

“It’s not fair, I tell you, sir, I made the sound. I didn’t fart,” the blonde adamantly once again proclaimed.

The large room due to the dark veneer fish of the wood looked dimly lit with a brass lamp with a green colored glass shade added a corporate look to the principal’s office. At one end of the room was a raised area with a step. In the center of the platform was a plush green print wing back chair. One that had once had sat in a Denver mansion, which had a rather over-sized cushioned seat area. Lying across cushioned of the chair seat was a long wooden paddle. The letters of the high school were branded in with a wood burner along the length of the paddle in deep etching that bore into the smooth shiny surface. Along the paneled wall was a line of awards, certificates and Principal Snyder’s bachelor and master’s in education college diplomas.

Let me explain, dear readers, you see my student, a female mind you, meaning they were of the opposite desk had done a principal, ‘no-no!’ It was crystal clear the still mostly white bottom Snyder was whacking with the wooden paddle had either pulled down her own panties or had them jerked down by our dastardly principal off her bottom baring her bottom. Either way whether she pulled her green undies down herself or had them forcibly removed, the result was the same a ring of green that circled her ankles like a wreath. At the most he should have raised her light blue jean denim skirt and paddled her across her green cotton thin panties. But he had capriciously gone farther than acceptable punishment. As for the cotton panties they had most likely come to rest from the squirming and exertions during her on-going paddle. And, after additional cracks, her moans became louder and lasted longer. From my perch above I witnessed the eighteen year-olds pert butt as principal delivered the next volley of spanks, still with the ‘oak paddle.’

As a newly minted teacher I saw one of my brash female students take the rest of the punishment. With paddle in hand and the other one rested on the up-slope of her bottom.

Anya, a senior high school student and in my makeshift class had really shown her ass! As the eighteen year-old with straight blonde hair down to her shoulders looked back up at our principal. You know how you learn to spell that word correctly for the person leading the school? You spell principle with a ‘le.’ Where, principal is spelled with ‘pal.’ That because the principal is your pal. Well, maybe not in our case!

“Twenty five! The stately figure, head of school said in a clear voice.

The paddle gleamed brightly in the light as it was raised high in the air. There was a quiet whoosh as it swiftly descended. The crack as it struck the upturned ass sounded like a pistol shot in the closed room. The eighteen year-old screamed at the top of her lungs and struggled to stay down across Snyder’s lap.

A red blotch in the shape of the paddle was clearly visible on the white cheeks of the girl’s ass.

CRACK! SMACK! WHACK! SPLAT!

The paddle fell four more times in rapid succession. The student who had most recently misbehaved in the class I had taken over for the rest of the year since Ms. Calendar’s unexpected demise. The grown school girl continued to howl and added a fart to her pain reaction repertoire. Tears ran uninterrupted down her smooth cheeks as she was forced to endure her paddling.

WHAP! SWAT! SPANK! CRACK! The paddle continued to fall.

“OOOHH! GEE, PLEASE! NOT SOOOO HARRRD! The girl whined and cried out. I watched as Marty Snyder dropped the paddle on the floor.