Sara's School Spanking
M/f - punishment spanking and belt
By Sara

Sara was in her second year at St. Catherine's House Independent School for 
Girls.  Her mother had chosen it because she said it held 'high moral 
values' and would stand her in good stead for the future, and also 'keep her 
on the right track'. "Whatever that was supposed to mean," thought Sara, as 
she walked across the large gravel drive with the other girls returning from 
their half term weeks at home.  In this instance, she was glad to return to 
school as all her mother had kept on about all week was her new boyfriend 
and how marvellous it was that he would soon be coming to live with them 
once he was settled in his new job.  Sara snorted at the thought that this 
intruder was going to come into their lives, had practically got his 
toothbrush snuggled up comfortably in the cup between hers and her mothers, 
yet she had never met him.  Why couldn't her mother have done what all the 
books said about step-families and 'introduced him on neutral ground as a 
friend'.  That would be too much trouble for her mother she thought.  Like 
the hassle of sending her to a day school would mean she had to get out of 
bed in the morning and be there in the evening.  No, a nice boarding school 
with those horrible 'high moral values' would be "so much better for you 
dear"..... she mocked the words to herself, remembering them as they came 
from her mothers own lips just two years ago.

She stopped and looked at the old building in front of her and the array of 
large cars currently surrounding it.  Four wheel drives, Mercedes and a 
variety of people movers, mostly belonging to families without that many 
people in them.  Bought to impress the neighbours no doubt, and the majority 
of them less than three years old.  All of them there for one purpose, to 
drop their little darlings off for another term of 'getting a decent 
education'.  Sara put down her bag and straightened her sock which had 
shifted on her exit from her own 'family transport' when her Mother had 
dropped her off before blowing a kiss and a hurried "bye darling".  She 
looked back to where her Mother's car had been just minutes before, only to 
see the space now occupied by another vehicle leaving yet another girl 
wearing identical clothes to herself.

Seeing the girl's mother straighten her daughter's tie, she re-inspected her 
own uniform.  It wouldn't do to be seen with anything less than perfect 
uniform on the first day back after a holiday.  She was sure the tutors must 
imagine they did nothing more than wash, iron and worship the uniform that 
was such a big part of the school.  Recognised by all in the local community 
and helping those 'high moral values'.  Every time she went into town, some 
old lady was sure to say, "don't those St. Catherine's girls look smart in 
their uniform." Sara thought the uniform was daft.  They wore jeans to 
school in the States, why couldn't they wear them here?  Did it really make 
you a better person to be wearing a uniform at all?  She'd never liked it 
from the day her Mother had taken her to look round the school.  Bottle 
green blazers with red piping, red tartan kilts that came just above the 
knee and had to be hung on to tightly in high winds in case they gave a 
glimpse of the bottle green knickers worn by all the girls.  White socks 
with garters and a ribbon to match the kilt, a white shirt with tartan tie 
and worst of all, a straw boater with a tartan band.  She felt that she only 
needed a set of bagpipes to complete the job and she would look like she was 
ready to enter a carnival parade.  Her Mother had fussed so much when she 
put the whole uniform on for the first time, saying how lovely she looked 
and how they must send Grandma a picture, and of course one to her Father to 
show him how well she was doing and that his alimony was being well spent 
each month.

After giving her uniform a final once over, Sara picked up her bag and made 
her way to the entrance of the school.  An impressive building, once a manor 
house belonging to Lord & Lady Tregoth who's pictures hung imposingly in the 
great hall.  Sara frequently cursed them for leaving such a place to be used 
as a school 'for the good of others'.  She bet herself that it was they who 
had insisted on 'sparing the rod and spoiling the child' too, for this was 
one of the very few private schools who still maintained corporal punishment 
of its pupils.  Sara had never been subjected to anything more than one or 
two class detentions, although there were one or two in her class who had 
received a good whacking or more from Mr. Banbury, the headmaster, who 
insisted on wearing a black gown and mortarboard and who was often to be 
seen carrying a cane which she had initially thought was just for pointing 
out things on the blackboard.  After all, that was the only thing she had 
seen him use it for, other than when he came on one of his infrequent trips 
into the grounds and saw him stabbing at a stray crisp packet with it, 
ordering the nearest girl to pick it up and put it in the bin, followed by a 
speech worthy of a mention in the 'keep Britain tidy' campaign's annual 
report.  It wasn't only Mr. Banbury who was allowed to discipline the girls. 
  All the teachers had the power to do so, although most of the women 
teachers would usually send the girls off to the headmaster for it, either, 
Sara figured, because they couldn't be bothered, or because they just didn't 
have the guts for it.  One or two of them were nifty in the raising of the 
skirt and delivering a well aimed slap to the backside of errant pupils, and 
one of them, Miss Jones, the games mistress simply revelled in it.  Sara was 
sure she must have a secret liking for spanking young errant girls bottoms.

Indeed, Sara had come close to being the subject of Miss Jones' attentions 
in her very first week at school when she didn't hang up her uniform 
properly after getting changed for PE.  Miss Jones had stood in front of her 
yelling at the top of her voice that she was a very lazy girl and ought to 
be punished for not taking care of the very expensive uniform that her 
parents had provided for her.  It was only because she was interrupted by a 
message of an urgent telephone call that she forgot all about it and Sara 
got off the hook.  Something she had thanked her lucky stars for many a 
time, after seeing the PE mistress delivering a hefty six swats to some 
other poor unfortunate backside just a week later for not remembering a full 
kit.  The school also had it's share of male teachers, many of whom were 
usually fairly friendly, although there was one, Mr. Geddes, who all girls 
dreaded.  He had no worries about handing out punishment, and often did so!  
However, he had moved on to become deputy head of a boys school in Scotland 
and everyone was relieved at his departure, despite there being a high 
increase in sore bottoms in the weeks preceding his departure.

After putting her clothes away, it was time for dinner then 'free time' 
which was never really free as the tutors all expected you to be doing at 
least some form of school work.  Sara lay on the bed in her dormitory that 
she shared with five other girls.  It was a fair sized room, with its own 
bathroom and high windows with swept-back curtains and fine views across the 
lawns where the girls played hockey.  Closing her eyes, she drifted off into 
a deep sleep, only to be rudely awakened by matron jabbing her in the ribs 
telling her to get up.

"What do you think you are doing sleeping in your uniform girl?  You'll get 
it all creased!  Come on, get up and get out of it... and you can take two 
marks for being so careless."  Said the woman, in a voice almost as stiffly 
starched as her own uniform.

"Yes, Matron. Sorry, I must have fallen asleep."  Sara jumped off the bed 
and reached under her pillow for her night clothes, then disappeared off 
into the bathroom to change, before coming back and getting into bed like 
her room mates just before the light was turned off.  She lay there for a 
while thinking about 'silly uniforms' and 'high moral values' until she 
eventually bored herself back to sleep.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The bell rang for first lesson and Sara made her way along the corridor to 
the Mathematics room with the others in her form of twelve.  They lined up 
outside the room, waiting for the appearance of the teacher.  The hallway 
was busy with other girls waiting to file into their lessons but gradually 
they were led in and quietened down until only Sara's class were left in the 
hall.  Sara realised that since Mr. Geddes the Maths teacher had left, her 
class would be the first to find out who was taking his place.  They all 
hoped it would be a nice friendly young teacher, straight out of college, 
whom they could befriend and have a laugh with.  Just then, Mr Banbury the 
headmaster came along with another tall, slim, thirty something, rather 
stern looking man beside him.  He walked past the line of girls who all 
hushed at his presence and then turned sharply to face them.

"Right girls, inside, hurry along... take your seats quickly and quietly."

The girls obeyed immediately.  Mr Banbury surveyed each girl as they filed 
in before following them in with his black gown billowing around him.

"This is Mr Taylor who is going to be your new Mathematics teacher.  I'm 
sure you will all welcome him warmly and be on your best possible behaviour 
when in his class, and thoroughly enjoy the excellent level of teaching that 
he can offer you all."

Sara looked at Mr Taylor.  'What a load of waffle' she thought to herself.  
'He doesn't exactly look like a barrel of laughs.'  She sighed inwardly and 
consoled herself that at least he had to be an improvement on 'work or 
whack' Geddes.

Mr Banbury was still spouting at the front of the class about 'doing one's 
best' and assuring that he was positive that Mr Taylor was exactly what the 
school needed to get the best out of its pupils.  When he'd finished, he 
stalked back out of the class room, leaving the girls still standing behind 
their desks facing their new teacher.  Up until now, he hadn't said a word, 
although the girls all seemed to relax slightly as soon as the last fold of 
Mr. Banbury's black gown had followed him out of the door.  The relaxed 
atmosphere only lasted a few moments until the new teacher spoke and 
immediately made it clear to the girls that this was going to be no easy 
ride.

"Right girls, sit down quietly and get out your books and pencil cases, then 
sit with your arms folded and your mouths closed.  I'm going to call the 
register then we will be getting on with today's lesson - no point in 
wasting any time."

Sara's heart sank as she thought silently to herself that this was hardly an 
improvement on the last 'Hitler' they'd had trying to teach them maths, just 
that this one was younger.  Still, she thought, he's younger, probably half 
the age of old Geddes, and more than likely just trying to make sure they 
don't try to mess him about.

Along with the others, she got out her book and pencil case and sat with her 
arms folded and waited for him to call the register.

"Right, when I call your name, you will stand up and reply 'yes Sir' so that 
I can see who you all are. There are not many of you so it won't take me 
long to learn your names.  I had twenty five pupils in my last class and 
learnt their names in one lesson, so let's get on with it..."

Sara listened as he called the names of her classmates, knowing that her 
name was soon to come.  When it did, she stood, answered the obligatory 
"yes, Sir" and once he had seen who she was, she sat down again.  As she sat 
down, she noticed that she had mistakenly picked up her science book from 
her bag, instead of her mathematics book, so she reached down into her bag 
to swap it.

"Sara Ovington what are you doing girl!" Bellowed Mr. Taylor's voice from 
the front of the class.

Sara was so shocked by the unexpected and very loud call of her own name 
that she almost fell off her chair in surprise.  She dropped the book she'd 
had in her fingers and it landed on the floor with a plop.  Looking up she 
saw Mr. Taylor coming quickly towards her.

"I...I was...." she started.

"Stand up when you talk to me girl" he snapped back, not waiting for her to 
finish. "What on earth are you doing, I thought I made it clear that you 
were to sit with your arms folded?"

Sara stood up, which she hoped would make her feel a little braver, but 
realising that she only came up to Mr. Taylor's chest, she felt small and 
vulnerable.

"I...was..just getting my maths book out, Sir, I got my science book out by 
mistake and was changing it."

Mr. Taylor stared Sara straight in the eyes, "I told you sit with your arms 
folded girl, not mess about in your bag.  What's wrong with you, don't you 
know the difference between the word science and mathematics?  Can't you 
read?"

"Yes Sir," Sara replied, rather nervously.

"You'd better sit down my girl, while you still can."  And with that, he 
turned and marched back off to the front of the classroom and re-took his 
seat.

Sara felt herself flush and could also sense the uneasiness of the rest of 
the class. She was right, this was not going to be an easy ride at all.

Once the register was over, they immediately moved onto Sara's least 
favourite subject of all - fractions!  She watched as Mr. Taylor covered the 
blackboard in white chalk fractions, none of which made any sense to her.  
Still, she figured if she could just work out roughly what he required her 
to write down in her exercise book, then she should make it though the rest 
of the lesson without further trouble.  Halfway through the lesson, Mr 
Taylor announced that he had left a pile of homework sheets in his car and 
needed to go and fetch them.  He left the girls to get on with their 
fractions and hurried off with his car keys in his hand.  Once they were 
sure he was out of ear shot, the chatter began amongst them.

"He's as bad as Geddes!" said Charlotte.

"You're not kidding. I thought he was going to be a pushover because he's 
quite young, but he's like bloody Hitler!" Replied Jessica.

"He'll have us asking permission to breathe next."  Said Zoë.

"Yes, come back Geddes, all is forgiven!"  Added Camilla.  "I bet old 
Banbury chose him because he is so bloody awful."

"You're probably right there," Sara replied, "I had a funny feeling the 
minute I saw him standing there like a damn Sergeant Major with his hands 
behind his back."

"I couldn't believe the way he had a go at you, Sara, when he's made a cock 
up by not bringing in the homework sheets himself.  He needs to practice 
what he preaches if you ask me, he was totally unfair to shout at you." 
Sympathised Melissa.

Sara turned round to face her friends.

"It's OK Mel, he doesn't bother me.  He's just a dipstick new teacher who 
thinks he's the dogs bollocks and wants to lay down the law, and the only 
way he can do it is by spouting his head off the first chance he gets."

Sara had been poking at a small crack in the table top as she spoke, but 
hearing no response to her opinion, she looked up and saw a row of ashen 
white faces staring back at her.  Then she realised that they weren't 
looking at her, but at something behind her.  Turning round in her seat she 
realised what, or rather who, they had been looking at.

"Stand up girl!"  Barked Mr Taylor, as he threw down the pile of homework 
sheets on the desk in front of her.

Sara gasped quietly but obeyed, rising from her seat slowly.

"There's always one in every class isn't there?  And I guess you're it..." 
he shouted, pacing up and down beside her.  He leant closer to her right 
ear, and spoke more quietly, but still so that all the class could hear.  
"Well let me tell you my girl, I've sussed you out straight away, and I'm 
going to make sure you don't get away with this despicable behaviour any 
longer."   With that, he placed a well aimed sharp slap that left a hand 
print on the back of Sara's thigh, making her flinch.  You are going to go 
and stand in the corner with your hands on your head.  You can stay there 
for the rest of the lesson.  I'll deal with you properly when the others 
have gone."

Grabbing Sara sharply by the top of her arm, he led her over to the corner 
where he made her stand with her hands on her head.  With her hands and arms 
up, resting on the top of her head the hem line of her skirt was raised 
about six inches and the fierce red hand print was clearly visible for the 
rest of her friends to see, and served as a stark reminder to all of them of 
what may happen if they didn't behave.

Sara stood, facing the corner feeling embarrassed for getting slapped by a 
teacher - a new teacher at that, in front of her classmates.  She was glad 
that they could not see her face, although it was bad enough that they could 
probably see the mark where she had been slapped.  She felt the tears of 
embarrassment well up in her eyes and did her best not to sniff as one 
trickled down her cheek and dripped onto her blazer.  Apart from the trouble 
with the gym mistress when she started at the school, she had never been in 
serious trouble before, and wondered what might happen to her at the end of 
the lesson.  She knew the clock was on the wall not far from where she was 
standing, but didn't want to chance looking up at it to see how long she had 
before she learned her fate.  She figured she couldn't have long, but that 
the time would come soon enough.  She began to wonder what might happen to 
her.  Would he send her to Mr. Banbury?  If he did, that was sure to end in 
a good whacking.  Girls rarely came out of Mr. Banbury's office without 
rubbing their bottoms.  Although, she conceded, if he was going to send her 
to the headmaster, he would have just written a note and sent her straight 
away like the other teachers did who left the punishment of students to the 
head.  There again, maybe he didn't know that, and intended taking her to 
the Head himself.  That would be worse since he would go on and on about how 
bad she was and she would get more of a whacking than she deserved.

Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.  Perhaps he would just give her a 
detention or lines or a good telling off himself.  She had already resigned 
herself to the probability that if he intended to whack her himself, that he 
would have just continued it there and then, and not sent her into the 
corner first.  When the other teachers handed out whackings, they didn't 
waste a second and they frequently took place in front of the whole class.

Sara's train of thought was interrupted by the bell, signalling the end of 
the lesson.  Mr. Taylor handed out the homework sheets and dismissed the 
other girls, leaving him alone in the room with Sara who was still standing 
in the corner with her hands on her head.  The hand print still visible on 
the back of her thigh.  She could hear some rustling going on behind her 
which she gathered was the teacher putting his things away in his bag.  Then 
she heard the scrape of chair legs on the polished wooden floor and a sound 
she identified as him sitting down, then silence.  Sara felt uneasy as the 
moments ticked by.  She was eager to look round behind her to see if she had 
been mistaken about hearing him sit down.  Wondering if he had in fact left 
the room, but then she heard the chair creak and knew that he was still 
there, probably watching her.

In fact Mr. Taylor had indeed sat down, but not on the chair.  He had pulled 
the chair out from the desk and sat on the desk with his foot raised on the 
chair.  Next to him on the wooden desk was his leather holdall, containing 
books and other things. He looked at Sara, still standing in the corner, 
silent, just swaying slightly, with her hands on top of her head of long 
auburn hair.  The hem of her skirt was raised higher than it should have 
been because of her arms being up in the air and he could see the now pink 
imprint of his hand on her white skin that he had left from his earlier slap 
to the top of her thigh.

Finally he spoke.  "Turn round girl."  His tone was sharp but unhurried and 
Sara obeyed him, still standing with her hands on her head.  "Hands by your 
sides and come here." He commanded.  Again Sara obeyed and stood about four 
feet from him.  She purposely didn't want to stand within reaching distance 
of him, although she got the impression that he looked rather casual sitting 
on the desk, and felt slightly more relaxed thinking that if he were sitting 
there in what appeared to her to be quite a casual manner, that he was just 
going to tell her off and let her go.  However, things were not as they 
first seemed.  He stood up and stood right in front of her, then walked 
round behind her as if he were inspecting her uniform.

"I never expected to have to punish one of you girls on my first day here."  
He said, clasping his hands behind him in the same manner as he had when he 
had entered the room with the headmaster at the beginning of the lesson, 
only this time without the holdall in them.

"Yet here I am, first day, first lesson in my new school, and already I find 
I have an insolent, rude child to deal with.  It was as much as I could do 
not to give you the punishment you deserved in front of all your classmates, 
do you hear?" He asked, raising his voice slightly and coming round to face 
Sara again. "Well....?"

"Yes Sir,"  Sara replied quietly.  She was beginning to wonder if she had 
been wrong in her first assumptions of feeling that maybe she had got away 
with it.  She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and had an 
overwhelming desire for it all to be over with and for him to tell her she 
could go and never to be so rude and badly behaved again.

Once again his voice interrupted her thoughts...

"Well let me tell you my girl, I am not going to let you get off scott free 
just because I have only just started here.  I mean to make an example of 
you as a warning to all the others.  Unfortunate for you, but that's not my 
problem, do you hear?"

"Yes Sir,"  she answered, unable to quite take in exactly what he was 
saying.

"Do you know what I'm going to do girl?  Do you?" He questioned.

Sara shook her head, although it wasn't only her head that was shaking. Her 
whole body was beginning to tremble by now.

"Well let me tell you girl, if you thought you had got away with just one 
slap on the backside from me earlier, then you have much to learn, and I 
don't mean in the way of mathematics."  He was talking more quietly but very 
firmly into Sara's ear now and she could feel his breath on her, making the 
hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Sara's body quivered and she felt like running, but knew it would only make 
things worse.  If he was planning to make an example of her, then that meant 
only one thing, she was going to get punished, probably with a whacking.  
She suddenly felt very small and vulnerable, not knowing what was to come 
next.  She was very shortly to find out.

"Right, stand here in front of my desk and bend over it, grasping the other 
edge with your hands" Mr. Taylor motioned to the desk that he wanted Sara to 
bend over.  Her intake of breath was audible and a look of sheer fright was 
obvious on her face.

She didn't want this....she really didn't want this.

"No Sir, please, I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were there, I didn't 
mean....." she began to try and explain her way out of the inevitable 
punishment.

"Shut up and bend over!!" he shouted, clearly getting more annoyed. "Bend 
over now!" he added, grasping her by the top of the arm and forcing her down 
over the desk.

"No...no Sir, please, I've never been spanked before....please don't do this 
to me" she protested.

"Well my girl, if you have never been spanked before, I had better make sure 
I do a really good job this time so that I can make sure I don't have to do 
it again.  Now hold still or you will get more than you bargained for."  
With that he brought the flat of his hand down sharply on Sara's bottom.  
The hem of her skirt was much higher than it had been when she just had her 
hands on her head, and she was terrified of how much he could see. She just 
felt lucky that he had only decided to whack her over her skirt.  Sara 
flinched as his hand came down again and again making her wriggle on the 
desk and try to get up, then making her put her hands round behind her in an 
attempt to cover herself.

"Please Sir......no more, I've learnt my lesson!"  She sobbed.  "Please let 
me go, I promise I'll be good".

"I'm glad to hear it Sara, but a punishment is a punishment and you are not 
getting out of here until I'm completely finished with you, and at this 
moment in time I have barely started!"  Said Mr. Taylor, as he rained more 
slaps down on Sara's behind.

Sara couldn't bear to think of taking much more, and was determined to get 
away, even if it meant running and hiding somewhere only to get into more 
trouble later.

She wriggled and moved and eventually managed to slip down to the floor, but 
her moment of freedom was short lived as Mr. Taylor picked her up by the arm 
and pulled her towards him.

"Oh no you don't young lady, and for that I really will make sure you are 
thoroughly punished.  You might as well face facts that you are not getting 
out of here until I'm satisfied that you have had the punishment you deserve 
do you hear...?"

Sara stood sobbing, with tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Do you hear me Sara?" He was more insistent now.

Weakly, Sara nodded, still sobbing.

"Right, we might as well get this over with..."

Mr. Taylor sat back on the desk and put his left foot up on the chair in 
front of him.  He still had hold of Sara's arm and pulled her towards him, 
over his knee, tucking her body under his left arm and pushing it over so 
that her bottom was up in the air and her feet were just off the floor.  It 
was obvious to Sara that he had done this before, and laying there so 
helpless she resigned herself to the fact that there was no escape as he was 
far too strong for her and that he was just going to get on with it, and 
that the sooner he did so, the sooner it would be over with.  It didn't mean 
that she had to like it though.  She felt very vulnerable laying over his 
knee with her bottom up in the air and she felt him tuck her in close to him 
in readiness to begin the punishment properly.

"Right young lady, this will be over much more quickly if you don't make too 
much fuss."  He said as he reached down and lifted the hem of her skirt up 
over her back and tucked the hem firmly into the waistband to keep it there.

Immediately Sara began protesting. "No, Sir, please......please put my skirt 
down, please...." she sobbed.

"I told you Sara, I am going to make sure you are thoroughly 
punished.......and that means without the protection of your clothes"  He 
added, as he grasped the top of her bottle green school knickers and pulled 
them down so that her bare bottom was clearly visible.  It was already 
flushed pink from his first round of spankings over the desk and he made it 
clear that he had every intention of making it much redder before he 
intended letting her go.

Holding her firmly he brought his hand down again and again on Sara's ever 
reddening bottom. All Sara could do was wave her arms about and kick her 
feet. He was obviously an expert at it as she was completely helpless to 
defend herself.  She couldn't even reach to get her hand behind her to 
shield her bottom from the slaps.

"Please Sir," she sobbed, "please don't spank me anymore, please......" but 
her protests were totally ignored and were lost amongst her sobs and cries.

After what seemed like forever to Sara, but was in actual fact just 12 
slaps, he paused and Sara mistakenly believed he had finished.  Still she 
felt helpless, dangling there, unable to support herself or get up.  Her 
tear stained face was red from crying and flushed from being virtually 
upside down.  She felt embarrassed and humiliated, knowing that he could see 
her bottom that was framed by the inside waist band of her skirt at the top, 
and her bunched up school knickers halfway down her thighs.

"Right Sara, we are almost there now.  I hope you are going to behave while 
I finish."  He said sternly.

Sara was gutted, she really thought her punishment was over, and didn't feel 
that she could take anymore, and began protesting in earnest once again, 
only to be rewarded by two even sharper slaps than before, to the tops of 
her legs.

"Owwwww.....get off me you bastard!" She squealed, wriggling for all she was 
worth.

"What did you call me Sara?  What did you call me?  He demanded, pulling her 
to him even more tightly and slapping the backs of her legs again in turn.

Sara didn't answer, the pain in her bottom was bad enough, let alone the 
sting in the backs of her legs....she let go for all she was worth and cried 
unashamedly like a small child.

"I can see this calls for stronger measures my girl."  Said Mr. Taylor, 
reaching into the bottom of his bag with his free hand.  Sara couldn't see 
round behind her, but her bottom was soon made aware that it was no longer a 
hand that was being used to punish her with, but a heavy flat object that 
was in fact a proper leather spanking paddle.

Mr Taylor brought it down sharply on her bare bottom, first one cheek, then 
the other, then a third, right on her seat, then back to the first cheek, 
then the second and then once again in the middle. He carried this on until 
he had given her a further 12 strokes, then put the paddle down on the table 
beside him.

"Get up Sara."  He said, loosening his grip around her and lowering his knee 
so that her feet could once again touch the floor.

Still crying and sobbing, Sara stood in front of him with tears streaming 
down her face. She'd lost all her dignity with this man, so why bother 
trying to compose herself.  She stood there crying like an infant and 
rubbing her bottom.

"You can go and stand back in the corner now, while I mark these books."  He 
said, pointing to the corner where she had been standing earlier.

Sara reached down to pull her knickers back up but he stopped her.

"Leave your knickers and skirt exactly how they are.  That's all part of 
your punishment.  Now get in the corner and stay there, and no rubbing your 
bottom."

Sara went back to the corner, wanting to rub her bottom badly but having to 
make do with wiping her eyes instead.

After a few minutes, the sting in her bottom was getting too much for her, 
and she reached back with her hand to rub it but Mr. Taylor spotted her.

"Unless you want another dozen with the paddle, I suggest you leave your 
bottom alone girl.  In fact you can put your hands back on your head."  He 
ordered.

Reluctantly Sara obeyed and stood there sobbing.  Gradually her sobs 
subsided and after about half an hour Mr Taylor told her to come back over 
to him.  Once again she felt the rush of embarrassment, as her skirt was 
still tucked up revealing her bottom and her knickers were around her knees.

"Pull your knickers up, skirt down and get yourself off to your dormitory, 
and mark my words girl....I'll be keeping a sharp eye on you in future."  He 
said, looking her in the eye.

"Yes Sir."  She replied quietly.  Slowly, she pulled her knickers back up 
over her bottom which was stinging badly by now, and untucked her skirt from 
it's waistband, letting it fall down to cover her knickers.  Picking up her 
bag from beside her desk, she made her way out of the classroom and off to 
her dormitory where she threw herself on the bed and cried herself to sleep.

------------------------------------------------------

Later that afternoon, her dormitory companions returned and all of them 
asked about what had happened in the Maths room after they had left.  Sara 
showed them the marks on the back of her legs, but couldn't bring herself to 
admit that she had been spanked so harshly, although when they went in to 
dinner that evening, it was obvious to the other girls that it was more than 
the hand prints on the backs of Sara's legs that were giving her problems 
with sitting down.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Six weeks later, Sara returned home for the Summer holidays.  Nothing had 
been said about her spanking and she decided to keep it that way.  The last 
thing she needed was her Mother knowing, as she would surely tell her Father 
and she would then end up getting a phone call giving her the third degree 
about it, so Sara put it to the back of her mind until one day a few weeks 
later when her Mother called her in from the garden.

"Sara sweetie, I have someone I would like you to meet...." her Mother said 
with a smile. "His name's Nigel.....Nigel Taylor!!"

Sara looked beyond where her Mother was standing and the colour drained from 
her face.

"I believe Sara and I have already met."  Nigel replied raising an eyebrow 
at Sara.....

© Sara Ovington