I was 19, and everyone said I was a good girl. I was, too. I always did my homework, and I tried really hard not to disappoint my lovers in any way. They were perfect, and would never think of spanking me. Their disapproval was punishment enough for me.
But, I was fascinated by spanking. When I was eighteen, my uncle had quickly turned me over his knee and given me a couple of sharp smacks, when I nagged him, and I always wondered what a real spanking would be like.
I was having trouble with history class in university. I just couldn’t seem to get my homework done in that class that year. Mrs. Walker was very disappointed. That was almost as bad as disappointing my lovers.
Well, once I just knew I couldn’t get an essay in on time. So, I patched together a couple of essays I found in a book, and handed that in.
Mrs. Walker had read the book, and, after university, she took me to the vice-principal’s office. After she told him, and showed him the paper, Mr. Johnson shook his head.
“I’m very disappointed in you, Antonia. I thought you were better than this. In other times, you would have got the strap, but, today, all we can do is call your lovers.”
“No! please, not that. I’ll do anything. I’ll do it over. Please, Mrs. Walker.”
“I can give you an extension,” she said, “but you did plagiarize, and we have to do something about that.”
“Just…don’t call my lovers…”
“Then what,” Mr. Johnson said, “do you suggest?” They both looked at me. I trembled all over. And, without thinking, I said:
“Spank me….give me a spanking”. I expected them to laugh, or get angry, but, instead, Mr. Johnson said:
“Well, Mrs. Walker…would you?”
“No. But I will act as witness. Antonia, go to Mr. Johnson.”
I crossed the room and stood by his chair.
“Well?” he said. He tapped his knee. He seemed as nervous I was. I quickly thrust my thumbs under my sweatpants and pulled them, and my panties down, and nearly flung myself across Mr. Johnson’s lap. I lay there, trembling, feeling the cool air on my bottom.
“My, my” said Mrs. Walker. She crossed the room and knelt facing me. “Give me your hands.” She took them, held tight, looked up at Mr. Johnson, nodded.
There was a paused, then a loud slap as Mr. Johnson’s hand struck my left cheek. I gasped aloud. Another slap, on my right cheek. I found myself staring at the smiling Mrs. Walker. Another slap, I whimpered.
Then the slaps came steadily, back and forth, working over every inch of my bottom. Soon, I could not see Mrs. Walker through my tears, and I was yelling things like “no, no, please stop. Oh it hurts, oh nonono” and then, all I could do was scream and cry, as I bucked in Mr. Johnson’s lap.
It seemed to go on forever, but it really was only a few minutes. Then, he stopped, and I lay there gasping and hiccuping. Mr. Johnson started to move, but I heard Mrs. Walker say, “wait.” She went to his cupboard, and pulled out a thick strap.
“Just a taste.” she said, and whipped it twice across my bottom. It was so aweful, I found myself with my back arched, all stiff. I could not even breathe. Then, she said:
“A quick spank will finish her.” I looked around, wildly, at Mr. Johnson. He raised his hand and slapped. And pushed me from his lap.
I howled and howled, as I hopped around the room, pulling up my pants. Mr. Johnson looked upset, but Mrs. Walker…I knew I would hear from her, again.
I never told anyone, until now. And the names, except mine, have been changed. And I did get the paper in.
