Category: Child                                       500 words


                     LINEUP

She turned her head ever so slowly: Miss Wasson was not looking her
way.  Kirsten was one in a line of eighteen girls facing the
blackboard.  They stood, hands on heads, skirts tucked up, panties
around knees.  A quivering row of bright red bottoms testimony to the
prior very unpleasant thirty-five minutes.  Three girls waited to be
punished.  Glad her ordeal was over, Kirsten checked Miss Wasson: the
lady was fully occupied lowering Chelsea's panties.

Kirsten leaned back, in tiny increments, looked left then right.
Thirty-six soundly spanked buttocks shone under the overhead
fluorescent lights.  A fascinating view, she thought, admiring the
varied behinds.  Quite unlike the moving wet bottoms seen in showers. 
These buttocks were still, except for a quiver here or a clench there. 
Fascinated, she leaned back a bit more, appraising the posterior
variations so perfectly presented.

Barbra, just to her right, was slim, shortest in the class and blessed
with a lovely high round bottom that looked marvelous in tight jeans. 
Next was Marie, a tall black beauty whose behind was surprisingly pale,
except for the crimson glow recently applied.  Michelle was a big fat
girl with a broad fat bottom that had required extra strokes of the
paddle.  Redheaded Laura had very white buttocks that now looked redder
and sorer than the others.  Skinny Stacey's red behind was almost flat,
much like her chest.

Next was Cathleen, Kirsten's best friend. Her bottom, like her body,
was quite mature, almost matronly: but she had cried like a little kid
during her punishment.  Kirsten too, had cried; as had all the girls. 
When Miss Wasson spanked, she spanked to real tears.  No one that had
ever been over her knees, tried to resist crying: it only prolonged the
agony.

Afraid to lean further, and unable to see much beyond Cathleen's
position, Kirsten switched her view to Miss Wasson.  The Principal was
furiously walloping Chelsea's naked buttocks, attention focused on the
kicking, bawling girl on her lap. Deciding that this was an opportune
time to check the other side, Kirsten turned to the left.

Bonnie leaned against the blackboard, her pert behind protruding
slightly more than the others in line.  Kirsten swayed further back,
and was rewarded with a view of Susan's luscious derriere. Just as red
and swollen as the others, it was still quite enviable. Kirsten
whispered to Bonnie: "Straighten up, I can't see." Bonnie obliged and
Lynda's full bottom came into view.  As bottoms go, Lynda's wasn't
special, but it was certainly red! Next down the line was---

"KIRSTEN!  Just what do think you are doing?"

The collective class gasp was followed by a silence that ached.

Kirsten's second spanking, much harder, much longer, did ease her
conscience somewhat.  She felt less guilty, although her theft had
caused all to suffer.  Kirsten never admitted her crime, that day or
any day: not to anyone, not even Cathleen.  Six years later, twenty-six
crisp dollars nestle in an envelope, in a drawer, under her panties:
untouched, unspent.

  Copyright August, 2004   by Koalabear  <Woody at lava dot net>