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A Well Paddled Ass
While Mr. Burns was writing on the board, Carrie sneaked an Ice cube from the science experiment the class had been working on. With a giggle she slipped it down her best friend's shirt. It was meant as a joke between friends, but the recipient of the chilly gift, Susan, had been taken off guard and responded with a loud shriek, instantly drawing the teacher's attention.
Susan tried to cover up for Carrie, claiming that she had caught her finger in the desk hinge and shrieked. It was amusing to watch her face as she squirmed in reaction to the ice, still lodged neatly in the cleft of her young bosom, releasing droplets of cold liquid to trickle down her midriff to her waistband. Eventually, however, her loyalty to Carrie succumbed to her self-interest and she reached into her blouse to extricate the icy cube.
Mr. Burns quickly deduced that the ice cube had been placed there by someone else, and his gaze lit upon Carrie. Her pretty blue eyes gave away the guilt she felt at causing her friend such discomfort.
With a glare Mr. Burns waved the poor 18 year old Carrie to the front of the class. Carrie had never been in trouble before, but she knew what was going to happen. She had seen naughty girls brought up to the front of the class before. The bare bottom spankings and paddlings were usually enough to keep most of the students at the strict school for troubled teens from misbehaving but Carrie's innocent joke was about to get her a ass warming she wouldn't soon forget.
Carrie moved to the front of the classroom, aware that she was doing so but feeling separated from her body, as if watching the events on a movie screen she paused in front of the large oak desk, behind which stood Mr. Burns.
"Ms. Tyler, I assume you know what to do," he intoned. Carrie noticed that he seemed to have grown during her long journey from desk to the front, so that he now seemed a giant. His face blurred as her eyes began to dampen, and she registered, somewhere in the back of her brain, that she must be blushing furiously -- she could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks. She swallowed, and took a step back, so that she now stood about two feet from the front of the desk.
"Ms. Tyler," he said sternly "place your arms behind your back."
Carrie could feel the first of many tears fall from her pretty blue eye and her face turned an extra shade of red. A soft cloth pair of cuffs with Velcro fastening was placed around her wrists. The cuffs were intended to keep her hands away from her stinging red bottom once the paddling began.
"Now Ms. Tyler lean forward across the desk, face to the side and pressed down."
She let herself fall forward until her small breasts were pressed onto the surface of the desk, and her face to the side of the cold wood. The forward edge of the desk cut sharply into her waist, and in this position her ass was prominently displayed, awaiting the paddle's fury. A tear snuck from her right eye and dropped silently onto the desk. Carrie was a modest girl, and was mortified to find herself so deliberately and helplessly exposed. She felt light-headed as it occurred to her that this was only the beginning.
At the very moment that this thought entered her mind, she felt the back of her blue, pleated uniform skirt being lifted. She involuntarily clenched her hands into fists and shut her eyes as she felt the fabric continue to rise, revealing first her thighs, then her buttocks. She was horrified as she remembered the panties she wore. The tears begin to flow freely with the realization that she had chosen today to wear her tightest pair -- pink satin, with hardly a quarter-inch of fabric on either side. Damn she thought. I put these on to make myself feel good!
"What are these Ms. Tyler; these do not look like the regulation underwear. This infraction will be dealt with as well, 25 extra swats for the lack regulation clothing. 25 swats for disrupting the classroom for a total of 50."
Carrie bit her lip to keep from crying.
Mr. Burns rolled the fabric of her skirt up onto Carrie's back, and then tucked it into the waistband making sure it would stay. "Open your legs a bit, Ms. Tyler," he commanded. She cringed at these words, but obeyed, shifting her feet so that they were a good two feet apart. Now, she knew, the distinct pouch of her vulva could be seen by all, and she fancied she felt a breeze blow between her legs, heightening her feeling of exposure. This isn't fair, she thought; but she knew it was.
She remained there, bent over at ninety degree angle as Mr. Burns walked to the back of the classroom to retrieve the heavy wooden school paddle, worn from years of use. She tried to concentrate on his footsteps, trying to judge where he was, but found her thoughts to distracting.
Carrie listened as Mr. Burns loafers clicked their way back towards her. She stared straight ahead as she heard him shuffling about behind her, arranging him self to afford the best leverage with the paddle.
"Ms. Tyler. You know the rules - I will pull down your panties now and paddle your bare bottom, keep your chest to the desk and your feet where they are. If you move, it will mean five extra. Ready?"
She was amazed that she found the strength to whimper out a yes. A moment later her panties were sliding down to her knees, her smooth round ass was completely exposed for spanking.
The first blow came, pushing her forward across the desk, and causing the sharp edge to cut into her stomach. There was a pause as Mr. Burns repositioned himself, and then she heard the rush of air as the second landed. Suddenly a rush of fiery fast smacks hit her bare bottom causing her to cry out and tears to fall freely from her eyes. In vain she tried to free her wrists and cover her stinging red bum. When she couldn't she attempted to hop from one leg to the other. Her efforts were rewarded with another series of hot searing smacks to her now blistered ass.
"Ms. Tyler if you don't stay still I'll have to put you over my knee and deliver the rest of your paddling along with an extra 5 for moving."
Again the paddling resumed with another 20 swats to go. Carrie couldn't help it she was sobbing huge gasping sobs and began to squirm all over the desk.
That's it young lady the rest will be delivered across my lap! Mr. Burns seized her by the hair and sat down on the high backed teacher's chair. A second later Carrie found her self head down and ass up over his knee. Once again the paddling resumed with quick hard smacks to her blistered red bottom.
By the last one, a pool of tears had accumulated on the floor beneath her and Carrie's knees felt weak. With a tug at the Velcro her wrists were released and her hands flew to her well paddled searing red ass.
She waited for the order to stand. When she did, she was grateful to feel her skirt fall into place, though she knew the relief would be short-lived. Without turning to face the class -- she didn't know how she could _ever_ look at them again, least of all now -- she shuffled with her panties still at her knees to the front corner of the room. She found that her legs were shaking violently, and that she couldn't stifle the sobs that kept emerging from deep down inside her.
"Ms. Tyler, you'll remain there until class is over. And with your skirt rolled up -- you know that."
Yes, she did, but she had been hoping to forestall the re-revelation of her posterior. Resignedly she reached back and worked her skirt back up, displaying, to all, her flaming red ass cheeks. The girls in the class could see the beginning of blistering bruise marks and knew Carrie wouldn't be sitting down for a few days.
Once again order had been restored and the students at the strict school for troubled teens had been given good reason to follow the rules set out.
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