A School Girl’s Tale
I am not sure why it is that school girls are always getting spanked. They do seem to be the common fodder of spanking fantasy. Those poor school girls must have a hard time sitting down. They get spanked when they’re bad, they get spanked when they’re good. They get spanked at every opportunity. Here is yet another school girl spanking story.
This is an old story that I originally wrote in 1994, only a year or so after I met my wife. Perhaps inspired by this story she went to the thrift store and bought a short plaid skirt, a white blouse and a tie. The result was a spanking much like the one Daphne got in this story.
I have made a few minor edits, but otherwise the story is the same as it was when I wrote it. It is interesting to note that my spankings have gotten harder over the years. If I had written this story now the naughty school girl in this story would probably have gotten twenty strokes with the cane, instead of the traditional twelve.
A School Girl’s Tale
Daphne was sitting on a black leather sofa. The leather of the couch made a peeling sound against her bare thighs as she shifted and brushed her blond bangs out of her eyes. She was wearing a dark green and black plaid jumper with a short pleated skirt, a white long sleeved blouse and a black necktie. Her long legs were demurely crossed over a pair of saddle shoes and white calf high socks. Except for the shortness of her skirt and the fullness of her breasts beneath the blouse, she presented the classic picture of a school girl as watched Ms. Moore tidy up her desk as she got ready to leave for the day.
Daphne had been watching Ms. Moore silently for the last fifteen minutes as she went through her end of the day routine. Despite her nervousness, Daphne was starting to get bored. “Did Ms. Moore know why she was waiting?”, Daphne though nervously. Ms. Moore opened the bottom desk drawer and removed her purse. She reached over to the intercom on the desk and pressed a button.
“If there is nothing else, Sol, I’m going to be leaving for the day”
A male voice answered from the intercom “Could you send Daphne in now please. And have a good evening.”
Mrs. Moore turned to Daphne. “You can go in now.”
Daphne’s heart started beating faster. “Thank you” Daphne replied in a voice that she hoped didn’t sound too nervous. She got up from the sofa and walked toward the door behind the desk. Facing the door when Daphne entered was a man in a gray suit, sitting behind a desk of dark polished wood. He was tall and broad shouldered, with blond hair. Daphne shut the door and approached the desk. The dark wood was bare except for a file, which he was reading. To her left was another black leather sofa. Daphne stood before the desk with her hands clasped in front of her and waited for the man to look up from the file. After what seemed like an eternity he said “Daphne, we both know that this is not the first time you have been in this office”
She looked down at her saddle shoes. “Yes, Sir”
“This note from your teacher, Mrs. Stone, tells me of some particularly irresponsible behavior.”
In a little voice Daphne answered “Yes, Sir”
“Speak up, young lady”
Daphne cleared her throat, which seemed to have suddenly gone dry and answered a little louder this time, “Yes, Sir”
Sol paused for a moment, starring at the file, as if thinking. Daphne shifted nervously from one foot to the other. Finally he said “We expect much better behavior from our young ladies, especially in the senior form. On the last two occasions you have gotten off with no more than a stern lecture. I am afraid that this time will be different. Normally I would suspend you for a week, but I know that if I did that, you would have a difficult time with your exams and it is close to graduation. So, I will give you a choice, a week suspension or a spanking, although we usually don’t spank girls who are past their second year.”
Daphne kept starring at her shoes.
“Well young lady, what is it to be?”
“I will take the spanking, Sir”, Daphne answered, in a quavering voice.
“Very well then.”
Sol stood up and took a fifteen inch oak ruler out of the top drawer of the desk and walked over to the black leather couch. “Come over here”, he ordered, sternly.
Sol sat down on the couch and ordered Daphne to lie across his lap. She did as she was told, her body forming a vee with her bottom at its apex. Sol put the ruler down on the couch within easy reach and raised the skirt of Daphne’s jumper. A pair of low cut white cotton bikini panties covered the round swell of her bottom. He brought his open palm down smartly, first on her right cheek, then on the left. The thin cotton panties provided little protection and each slap evoked a small cry from Daphne. She was on the edge of tears before the spanking started and now she started to cry. Sol continued to spank her, the only sound in the room being Daphne’s crying and the slap of his hand on her bottom, only slightly muffled by her panties. After giving Daphne twenty slaps on each cheek, Sol stopped.
She felt his hand slide beneath the waistband of her panties and she shifted her weight on his lap so he could pull them down to the middle of her thighs. Her bared cheeks were blushed pink. She felt the cool caress of smooth wood as the ruler moved over the bare skin of her buttocks and thighs. The caress disappeared for a moment and the ruler landed hard on her right cheek, startling her with its sharp sting and loud smack. Sol held her firmly across his lap as he spanked her with the ruler, alternating cheeks. Daphne started crying again, responding with a muffled “ow” each time the ruler came down on a bare cheek. Daphne squirmed as she was spanked, moving her thighs apart, revealing honey blond hair and the lips of her vulva. Each stroke of the ruler stung and left a red mark in its wake. The spanking seemed to go on forever. Finally when she had received thirty strokes on each cheek, it was over.
Sol told Daphne to stand up and take off her jumper and her blouse. Still crying, Daphne mutely complied. As she undressed, Sol crossed the room to a closet. From the top shelf he took down a polished rattan cane, about two and a half feet long. When he returned to Daphne’s side she was wearing only a white lace bra and her panties, bunched around her thighs.
Sol ordered Daphne to lie face down over the arm of the sofa. Daphne’s buttocks were blushed crimson and she felt like her bottom was on fire. She flinched when Sol lightly tapped her across the cheeks with the cane.
“You are going to get twelve strokes with the cane to finish off your punishment. Now get that bottom up, young lady”, Sol ordered.
Obediently Daphne raised her bottom, spreading her cheeks slightly and making her vulva visible between her thighs. Sol raised the cane and brought it whistling down on her buttocks. The cane left a red line across the already crimson checks. It stung even more than the ruler and Daphne cried out, her cheeks contracting together, but she obediently kept her bottom up to receive the next stroke. After the first few strokes, she started to slip into the rhythm: the swish of the cane as it cut the air, followed by its stinging bite, then a pause as she waited, with her bottom raised, for the next stroke. Sol seemed to time the strokes just right, so that she got the next stroke as the sting from the last was starting to fade.
When Daphne’s punishment was almost over she had burrowed into the couch and did not offer bottom for the last stroke. Sol brought the cane down across her cheeks, which were clenched together.
“Come on love, only one more. Now be a good girl and raise your bottom”
Daphne raised her bottom. The last stroke came whistling down, hard across her buttocks, bringing one final cry. Daphne lay across the arm of the couch unmoving except for the slight shudder in her shoulders as she cried. She felt a hand caress her sore buttocks and then move over her upper thighs, then between them, to the lips of her vulva, which felt almost as swollen and hot as her bottom. A finger moved between the slick lips, circling between her clitoris and entering her pussy. She raised her bottom, as she had for the cane, but instead of presenting her cheeks for punishment, she was opening herself to the caressing fingers. After a while, the fingers moved away and she heard the sound of pants being unzipped and the rustle of fabric. She inhaled sharply as Sol entered her. She stretched out her arms on the couch so she could push upward against his stokes. Although she was gasping with pleasure as he took her, each thrust also had a slight edge of pain as he moved against her sore bottom. She came twice before she felt Sol’s orgasm inside her.
Ever since Daphne’s first thoughts about sex started to emerge when she was twelve, she had found spanking wildly exciting. Her parents had not spanked since she was three, and even then it had been no more than a few swats on the bottom, so she did not know where this strange desire originated. At first it was just a vague fantasy when she lay in bed at night touching herself, bringing herself to orgasm. But that changed one summer day after Daphne went to her friend Ann’s house.
Ann was Daphne’s best friend in Junior High School. That summer, Ann was playing on a girl’s softball team. As Ann and Daphne were gossiping about friends and classmates, Ann idly tossed a softball from hand to hand. Ann’s mother walked by and told Ann to stop playing with the softball in the house. Ann ignored her and a few minutes later, lost control of the softball, which went through a window. Ann’s mother heard the crash of the breaking glass and came rushing into the room. When she saw the broken window, she furiously grabbed Ann by the wrist and pulled her across the room to a straight backed chair. As she sat down in the chair, she pulled Ann across her lap. Daphne watched with horrified fascination as Ann’s mother angrily lectured her about how she had been warned, had disobeyed and now was going to get a sound spanking. Ann’s mother raised Ann’s skirt, pulled her panties down and started to spank her.
That night when Daphne lay in bed caressing herself, she imagined the scene again, in vivid detail. But this time it was not Ann’s panties that were pulled down, but hers. As she moved her fingers between the wet lips of her vulva she imagined that it was her bottom, not Ann’s that was being spanked until it blushed red. As the fantasy spanking climaxed, her bottom hot and sore under the hand of her imaginary disciplinarian, Daphne reached orgasm. After that, spanking was almost always a part of her fantasies as she masturbated. Over time, the imaginary spankings got more elaborate. She imagined being spanked with a whip while tied over an ottoman, or caned on her bare bottom, bent over the headmasters desk. Other times she imagined that she was whipped to redness with an elegant black leather ridding crop while tied to the banister of a regal dark wood staircase, her silk gown thrown over her back and her satin panties pulled down around her thighs. Then, her disciplinarian, who she could not see, would ravish her until she had shuddering orgasms. Although sometimes she was spanked by strong beautiful women, most of the time her spankings were administered by faceless male lovers. Sometimes Daphne imagined that the spankings were well deserved punishments, but other times they were a prelude to passionate lovemaking.
All through college and for several years after she graduated, Daphne did not tell her lovers of her spanking fantasies. She thought that she must be crazy to be sexually excited by pain, for there was no denying the fact that, in her fantasies, the spankings hurt and that she wanted them to hurt.
Daphne and Sol had been lovers for three months when they had been playing in bed one day and he had given her bottom a playful slap. Without thinking she raised her hips, offering herself for another slap. Sol smacked her again, a little harder this time. Daphne kept her bottom raised and she got her first spanking. Sol only spanked her lightly, enough to leave her pink, but when he stopped and started to caress her, he found that she was very wet. She pulled him on top of her and guided him inside her without any further foreplay. That night, after they made love, she started to tell Sol about her fantasies. He admitted that he found spanking her an incredible turn-on and as time went on she found that she had an imaginative partner who would play out the scenes that had haunted her fantasies since childhood.
They started out with hand spankings mixed with the caresses and licks of foreplay. Sometimes she would wear sexy lace panties and play the naughty girl. Sol would pull her across his lap, raise her skirt and scold her for wearing such sexy panties, before pulling them down and spanking her with his hand until her bottom was red. Once, when she was playing the role of a naughty girl, Sol spanked her harder than he had before, goaded by her acting. When she started to cry, Sol stopped spanking her immediately, horrified that he had actually hurt her. As he held her, she explained that she was fine and had not wanted him to stop at all. The crying was not a result of the pain but of intense emotion.
Like someone who starts eating spicy food and moves to hotter and hotter dishes, Daphne sought more intensity in the spankings Sol gave her. One night before lying naked across Sol’s lap, she handed him an oak ruler. After warming her bottom with his hand, he started spanking her lightly with the ruler. She moaned for him to spank her harder until he held her firmly across his lap and the strokes of the ruler fell loudly on her cheeks. She came as she squirmed on his lap, her thighs pressed together and the ruler making her bottom burn. After that, hand spankings where only used to warm her bottom for something with a harder sting. On a lazy Sunday morning, after Sol had lovingly brushed Daphne’s hair, he just as lovingly applied the hairbrush to her bottom. She bought a riding crop and called Sol at work and asked him to meet her at home for lunch. When he arrived she was waiting in the bedroom, wearing only a pair of transparent black bikini panties, the riding crop lying on the bed. After he took her panties down and spanked her, he bent her over the end of the bed and used the whip. When he finally took her, her orgasm was very intense. Her bottom was sore for the rest of the day and every time she sat down she thought of the sting of the whip on her bare cheeks and how Sol felt insider her afterward.
Daphne and Sol had talked about the school girl fantasy for a couple of weeks before they finally acted it out. The idea of being spanked soundly and then taken by a handsome headmaster was a great turn on for Daphne. She wanted everything to be as close to the fantasy as possible. Daphne went shopping for the plaid jumper, knee socks and saddle shoes and was slightly embarrassed when she found herself getting wet trying on the jumper at the store. When Daphne was waiting outside Sol’s office, she worried briefly that enacting the fantasy would be a disappointment. But everything had gone just as she imagined. Sol acted out the role of the stern headmaster wonderfully. The spanking had been the hardest she had received so far. The cane hurt even more than the riding crop. But by the time she had received the last stroke of the cane, she was so turned on that all she could think about was how much she wanted him inside her. Daphne was sure that this would not be the last time that she would be sent to the headmasters office. As an incorrigible repeat offender, she would have to be spanked even more soundly.
Originally written in 1994, published on Hot Bottom Stories in February 2008