A Very Supportive Environment
By Grace Brackenridge
[500 words]
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This story blends fact and fiction. The author
strongly opposes the spanking of real children in real
life.
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"It's wrong, I know it's wrong."
"Leanne," I reminded the 16-year-old honors student, "every paddling at Reagan is elective."
Nowadays at Reagan High School, when a girl like Leanne Natis elects the corporal punishment option, she must talk to me first.
I'm lead counselor.
Leanne shrugged. "This is different."
"Look," I said, checking my watch, "Mr. Burl leaves campus in 15 minutes. Let's take care of business and then chat."
-- -- -- -- --
Crack!
"Ohhh-hhh!" gasped Leanne, digging her fingernails into the under edge of the paddling table.
Her ten second wait for the next stroke must have seemed like eternity.
As witness, I stood where I could monitor Leanne's face and observe the paddle's impact.
Seconds passed on my wristwatch.
I nodded curtly.
Crack!
"Shhhh-hhhh-hhh!"
Vice Principal Burl wields the Board of Education, a massive bun-buster, with brutal, breathtaking expertise.
"Arch your back, Leanne," Mr. Burl ordered. "Tiptoes honey."
After a pause, I nodded.
The third stroke literally lifted Leanne's toes briefly from the floor.
-- -- -- -- --
Leanne gingerly sat her bottom on the padded chair.
I handed her a box of Kleenex as tears flowed silently.
"I think he hurt me," sniffled Leanne.
"No doubt," I smiled. "At minimum, you'll experience ruptured blood vessels and perhaps hematoma."
"Hematoma?"
"A mass of clotted tissue in your buns," I explained. "Sometimes there's nerve and muscle damage, too."
"It's okay to hurt kids that badly?" sniffed Leanne.
"Well, it's illegal everywhere but school," I smiled. "If your folks hit you with a paddle that hard, they might go to jail. Mr. Burl, on the other hand, gets paid to do it. You won't want another!"
"See, that's what I tried to explain before time ran out," she said sheepishly. "I've always been fascinated with spankings. Picture books. Cartoons. My friends' stories. My folks rarely spanked."
She sighed.
"I put the cigarettes in my book bag," said Leanne, "to get caught on purpose."
"Look, Leanne, lots of people have this same proclivity," I said. "However, you need to explore CP in a safe, nurturing environment. Let's consider a CAE, a Contract for Academic Excellence."
I handed her a standardized form.
After reading it, Leanne looked up. "I'm an honors student, but I'm not sure I can do A-level work in all my classes. What happens if I come to you for Friday counseling with a weak Weekly Report?"
"Mr. Burl's paddle will 'counsel' you."
-- -- -- -- --
"So?" asked Mr. Burl.
I stood in his office early the next morning.
"She signed," I replied, handing him the CAE. "I told her Reagan High is a very supportive of students with her proclivity."
He chuckled. "I haven't seen the last of that tight little bottom!"
"Speaking of supportive," I smiled.
"How's your hematoma?"
"All gone."
"Show me."
I moved to the paddling table.
Panties down and my skirt up in back, I rested my torso on the table.
"Looks good to go! On your tiptoes, Ms. Brackenridge."
I dug my fingernails into the under edge of the table and waited.