SSC-2004-03[School]: Some Paddlings are Fun  (M/t, paddle) 


My third SSC-2004 entry is a simple school tale and is fiction.  It
contains a scene of a paddling.  If such a subject is offensive,
uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.

This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited
without permission.  Personal/private copies are permitted only if
complete including the copyright notice.

The author would appreciate your comments -- pro and con, including
constructive criticism, and suggestions.  

E-mail: YLeeCoyote at mail dot com


Some Paddings are Fun
By
Y. Lee Coyote

Principal Lominac was standing by his open window enjoying the nice
spring breeze when he overheard two of the sophomores talking.  "Yeah,
Wilson really got it good from Lominac.  How did you fix it, Nate?"

Lominac's ears perked up for he had paddled Wilson just yesterday, even
though the lad insisted that he was innocent of the offence; the
evidence had proved otherwise.  He pressed the record button and
listened carefully; his dictation would wait.  He was very disturbed by
what he heard.  He had paddled an innocent boy and, worse, not only did
the guilty party escape but he had set up the frame.  These wrongs
needed to be corrected.  Honor demanded no less.

The lower class members were surprised seeing the horse on the
auditorium stage for assembly the next morning.  There had not been any
talk of a public punishment.  Both Wilson and Nate were surprised by
being called up.  It was difficult to do, but the principal apologized
to Wilson for an unjust paddling and canceled the week of detentions.

Then he played the tape.  There was absolute silence as the students
heard the boasting, cum confession, and for the long lecture that
followed except for gasps at the sentence.  "Ten pops for the plot and
double the rate for the crime."  It was obvious that it was to be done
publically.  Nate went pale at the order: "Drop them and get over the
horse."  Wilson had no trouble fastening the straps about his
tormenters wrists when told to.  He enjoyed lifting Nate's shirt and
was thrilled to pull his tightee-whites down to expose the paddles'
target to the class.

The paddle was a wicked one -- heavy oak, fifteen inches long with
holes to reduce air resistance.  Lominac tapped the target and then
swung for maximum effect.  Nate gritted his teeth and managed not to
yell.  By the fourth pop he was yelling for mercy; by the tenth he was
crying and his beaten butt was as red as could be.  It was clear that
Lominac was most angry for he was laying it on very hard.

The sophomores were quiet, the freshmen were happy that the bully was
getting it and proving not to be supermacho.

Then part two commenced -- six for the actual crime.  The yelling was
louder; the crying was like a baby's bawling.

Surprising all, Lominac handled the paddle to Wilson.  "Perhaps you
like to return the six that you should not have gotten."  It was not a
question.  Wilson smiled broadly as he got into position.  He hated
Nate for good reasons.  It was music to his ears as Nate continued to
howl for each of the six pops he was authorized to publically
administer.

Nate remained over the horse until the end of the assembly.  Everyone
was lead out across the front of the stage to insure that they each had
a close up view of the flaming hot red bottom.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L.  June 11, 2004

Y.

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