Maid For A Spanking

I was a sophomore in high school at the time and had a major crush on a boy named Aaron. He was a year older than me and had his eye on Rachel Lange. Rachel was a junior like Aaron and a little on the nerdy side. Don't misunderstand, when she took her glasses off she was without a doubt one of the prettiest and most well developed girls in the school. She was just sort of a bookworm and hell bent on getting out of the backwater place we called our hometown. I wasn't exactly a goof-off myself. I shared an advanced math class with Rachel and Aaron but, Rachel had the best grades and highest test scores that anyone could remember in the history of our high school. So, naturally I was confused as to what this boy saw in her. At the time of the events I'm about to describe the two of us were passing friends. That is to say we knew each other and didn't have any negative feelings toward the other. By the end of that school year, Rachel was one of my closest friends. And that was in spite of the fact I had ended up with Aaron. The funny thing is, Rachel never left our hometown and yet I did largely because of her influence pushing me to go for a scholarship, and Aaron, falling for me for awhile, eventually ended up marrying Rachel, the real girl of his dreams. As you can see Rachel and I's relationship has had its ups and downs. In the end we both got what we really wanted even though we didn't have a clue back then.

It was right about Halloween. I would be more specific on the date but, I honestly don't recall if it was actually Halloween or just the closest school day to it. Whichever it was, it was the day we went to school wearing costumes. As an adult I can look back at those dress-up days and say, "What the hell was the school thinking?" Come on, a bunch of hormone raging, sexually curious teenagers and somebody thought it was a good idea that they be allowed to wear 'costumes'. I can't recall a single year when there weren't a few girls dressed as inappropriately as Rachel and I managed in this particular year. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that a costume day is a perfect pretense for a repressed teenage girl to strut her stuff and make every boy in school take notice. That's exactly what Rachel and I were up to. Aaron clearly needed a push to get him out of the shy boy routine and around to asking somebody out.

I had plotted the outfit of the day for weeks. My usual school attire consisted of a small selection of modest dresses and long skirts with stiff white blouses. Not exactly the sort of stuff that's gonna cause whiplash. Today however would be different. Today I blushed when I saw myself in the mirror. Was I really going to go to school showing off this much skin? I adjust my boobs for a couple of minutes trying to get the right look. I had so much cleavage showing that it wouldn't take a whole lot of leaning over and I'd be showing the whole thing. To say the skirt was short is a bit like saying boiling water is warm. Not exactly a lie but, the reality is a little more extreme.

So, what costume possibility could possibly give me the excuse to leave my house like this? Let me describe it a little more for you. Essentially it was a very short, very shiny, black dress with white lace trim. It even had a little white lace apron that wrapped around the middle. Still can't figure it out? I was a 'French Maid' for the day. I almost chickened out that morning when I twirled around and saw that my panties were easily visible just walking. My better judgment lost out that day and there wouldn't be a story here if it hadn't.

I timed my escape from home just right so that Mom and Dad didn't get a look at my immodesty. The bus ride to school was no picnic. I certainly had the attention of every boy on board and truth be told most of the girls as well. Where the boys were grinning ridiculously, the girls were scowling. The ride did become a little more comfortable for me when Rachel got on. She was wearing a pink fairy costume that made me almost look modest. I was relieved that everyone wasn't staring at me anymore but, I wasn't thrilled that she had out done me. I mean when she first walked on the bus, I thought she naked with a couple of wings glued to her back.

My first class for the day was World History. I was starting to get comfortable with my outfit as I sat down in the classroom. It was fairly obvious most of the girls were disapproving even my girlfriends but, they were also a bit jealous. The boys on the other hand, well they never looked at me as the shy, quiet, smart girl again. A few minutes into the class, while the teacher's back was turned, one of the boys leaned over to me and asked if I would go to an upcoming dance with him. I was really starting to enjoy this. I decided I wouldn't turn him down but, put him off for a little bit. Kind of leave my options open thinking. As I leaned over to give him my response Mr. Hale turned around and caught me.

Mr. Hale was one of the teachers at the school that commonly exercised his right to give students swats. "Miss Dean, get the paddle and wait for me in the hall. I will not tolerate your disruptive behavior." "Yes, Mr. Hale. I'm sorry." No, that's not what I wanted to say but, it was the smart thing to say. My actual thoughts were along the lines of this pervert was just looking for any old excuse from the second he saw my outfit for the day. Probably a bit harsh but, I won't swear it wasn't true. I got up and went to the front of the class where the teacher's small wooden paddle hung on a nail. I was so flustered thinking about being paddled that I actually dropped the thing on the ground as soon as I got it off the nail. I knelt down very carefully to pick it up and at the same time realized just how horrible bending over for a paddling was going to be in this 'dress'. Mr. Hale kept me waiting in the hall for about 10 minutes before he came out.

Now I should probably pause a moment here and explain a couple of things. First, every teacher in school had the right to paddle students in their class. They were issued a small paddle that really looked a lot like a ping-pong paddle without the rubber coating. Most teachers in high school rarely if ever paddled students themselves, preferring to simply issue detentions or send us to the office. However, there were a few like Mr. Hale, who used the paddle frequently. There was never a week and hardly a day that went by without him paddling at least one student. Second, is that these teacher paddlings were never very severe. A paddling from Mr. Hale would sting for about an hour and then be forgotten. Teacher's actually could give more swats than the principal because their lightweight paddles really just weren't capable of hurting all that much. The maximum swats for a teacher was twenty and even for Mr. Hale, it was a rare day when that many were given. Usually it was more about the embarrassment than anything else and five to ten swats was more than enough to establish that.

So, when Mr. Hale came out into the hallway to tend to my bottom he started out with a lecture. I can't recall his exact words but, the general context was about how disappointed he was that after already paddling me several times previously I was still disrupting his class. He also commented on my attire for the day, no surprise there. Apparently, it was like my sixth trip out into the hall from him that semester. Clearly I wasn't learning not to disrupt his class. I remember thinking he was stating the obvious on a few things and couldn't we just get this over with.

Turned out he was building up to giving me a choice, either I could take a slip to the office that was going to request the principal give me 5 swats with his instrument of torture or I could take a full 20 from Mr. Hale. Not much of choice but, it was actually more than he had to do. I of course took the 20 from him and was grateful for them. It stung more than any of the others he had given me but I knew it was far better than going to the office. I was quite aware if I ended up in the Principal's office I would have gotten extra for my outfit and my Dad probably would have been called to bring a change of clothes for me which would have been real bad for going home later. That is if he didn't just bring his belt with him and let me have it at school.

I told Mr. Hale I would take his twenty swats and I don't think he was too surprised. Now while the spanking itself wasn't nearly as painful as what I would have gotten from the principal or my Dad it still hurt more than the usual from Mr. Hale. I suspect part of it was when I bent over the only protection my bottom had was my panties. The dress was just that short. The other really embarrassing part was that when I bent over touching my toes, my boobs literally came flopping out of the top of the dress. Not all the way but, enough to cause me to blush copiously. I was really hating my outfit at this point. The height of embarrassment came when the paddling was over and I stood up. Mr. Hale actually pointed at my chest and said, "You should probably fix that before we go back in." Yep, that's right I was giving my History teacher a nice look at one of my nipples. I'm not sure if it was the embarrassment or the twenty swats, probably a bit of both but, I was crying profusely.

No that's not the end. I still have a full school day ahead of me. I'll try not to bore you with details of every class though. That was not the only paddling I got at school for the day unfortunately. I was extra careful to be on my best behavior for the rest of the day, though. Mr. Hale had reminded me of something I had forgotten. Just how bad it would be if I had to go and see the principal in my little "French Maid" outfit.

By morning break news of my hallway paddling had made it around the entire campus. Fortunately, Rachel had also been paddled in the morning and her story was overshadowing mine. Rachel's paddling had come from being late to her PE class. I guess it took her a while to get out of her skin tight costume. PE paddlings were always the worst. They were the only teachers in school that could paddle your bare bottom and they always paddled bare bottom. The other problem was you didn't get to go out in a hallway you just got paddle bending over with your shorts and panties around your knees right in front of your class. Rachel had been late enough that her teacher had given her fifteen swats. Rachel wasn't used to getting spanked as much as I was so her reaction was a bit worse. She was apparently crying and jumping up and down so much that her shorts actually came all the way off. Worse yet, she spent so much time complaining about her sore backside through the class that the teacher decided she needed a full twenty at the end of the class. Her reaction to those was certainly not an improvement over the first fifteen either. She was reported as walking into the locker room carrying her shorts and panties instead of wearing them. An incident like that was going to be the talk of the school for a few days at least. I couldn't help but laugh when I first heard the story even though I was sporting a freshly reddened bottom myself. Rachel has always denied that things happened quite that way and knowing how stories get a life of their own I imagine the story was embellished a bit.

Now I could on and bore you with all the details of how many times some immature boy flipped the back of my skirt or the whistling and catcalls. However, I imagine you would be much more interested in my last class of the day. That was my math class and the one I shared with Aaron and Rachel. You see I knew that would perk you attention right up. Rachel and I bumped into each other in the hall a few feet from the classroom. Quite literally too. We were both very much aware of the others motivation for dressing like a slut for the day and the name calling began. By the time we reached the classroom door I doubt at there was a single person in that hallway that didn't know every derogatory term you could use to call a girl a whore. I also imagine they all knew that these two wonderfully revealing costumes were the result of one boy's appeal, Aaron.

Now as we turned into the doorway to get to our seats, we nearly ran right into Aaron. Shut us both up really fast. Rachel's face blushed to match her pink fairy costume and I can only imagine the beet red of my own face. Aaron was not amused with us. He said something along the lines of, "You two should be ashamed of yourselves. I've got half a mind to call both of your father's the minute I get home and tell them just what you've been up to today." He turned his back to us started towards his desk and then turned toward us again. "By the way I don't go for sluts."

Talk about a disappointment. Not only had we both been rejected by the boy we were trying to impress he had lectured us too. Our mutual public humiliation was a bit overwhelming at that point. We of course plumped ourselves down into our desks with attitude that would do a supermodel proud. Apparently I needed another spanking because I was throwing attitude at my teacher as though she were to blame for my bad day. At one point I was asked to solve a particular problem on the board and my response was, "Oh goody! I get to do your job and teach the class." If you can't hear the sarcasm dripping off those words your not trying hard enough. My teacher, Mrs. Robitaille, was not about to stand for that much open disrespect. She picked up her class paddle, she rarely used it, and called me to the front of the class.

I was in rare form, "Oh no! I'm gonna get paddled. Somebody save me!" Mocking the teacher that's just about to paddle you is probably not among the smartest things to do. I really didn't care. Now Mrs. Robitaille rarely used her paddle. In fact I am pretty sure that this particular day was the only time she used it that entire school year. Unlike most teachers who would send a student into the hall she believed in paddling in front of the class. It was a matter completely up to the teacher's discretion.

My march to the front of the class was not marred by trepidation. I was almost eager to be spanked right up there in front of my classmates. For the first time in my life I was feeling more thrill in the anticipation than fear. It was a very liberating experience and was undoubtedly my first step on the path to accepting my dark desires to be both spanked and humiliated. Upon reaching the front of the class I turned to Mrs. Robitaille and said, "Shall I touch my toes now or do you want my panties down too?" The class actually laughed at this point which I think was what I wanted. Mrs. Robitaille told me to bend over and as I did she started swinging with every bit of force she could muster. I said before that the teacher's were limited to 20 swats well She chose to interpret that as per offense on this occasion and I am pretty sure she gave me about 60 swats. I lost count around 25 and shortly thereafter was crying and begging for her to stop. Those lightweight paddles when used with that much fervor could actually hurt a bit more than I had previously thought.

When she finally allowed me to stand up I went to immediately to rubbing my very sore backside as I walked back to my desk. Every single person in that class was staring straight at me as I walked rather slowly. I was vaguely aware of some of the girls trying to get my attention but I was engrossed with massaging my bottom and trying to stop my tears. It wasn't until I sat down that I realized what the fuss was about. Just like earlier in the day when I was bent over my breasts had freed themselves from the confines of my dress. This time had been a bit worse than earlier probably because of the amount of bouncing around I had done. I had just given my entire math class an unobstructed view of my bare breasts. My earlier nonchalance was completely eradicated. My face was burning so hot I thought I could actually feel sweat on my forehead.

I quickly covered myself and re-situated things into my dress where they belonged. The rest of the class was something of a blur to me. I recall being humiliated beyond words and squirming uncomfortably in my seat but, that's about it. Mrs. Robitaille held me after the rest of the class left and gave me a one hour detention slip for the next day of school. I guess I was lucky she didn't send me to the principal. She had always seemed to like me so I imagine she cut me a break that day even though my backside would argue with that. The ride home on the school bus was intolerable. I don't even know how many times I was asked to pull them out and let everyone see. Kids can be so cruel sometimes.

The worst part of my day hadn't even arrived yet, although I was acutely aware that it was coming. You see, I had always known from the moment I had put this outfit on in the morning, I was in for a spanking from Dad. I was fairly certain I could get out of the house without being seen but, there was no way I could hope to get back in without my Mom seeing me. I figured a spanking from Dad was worth getting Aaron's attention but, I hadn't counted on Aaron's reaction. By the time I arrived home I was calling myself an idiot and wondering if everyone would have amnesia by the next day. When I walked through the front door I found not just my Mom but, Dad was home too. They stared at me for about 30 seconds and then came a storm of yelling. I got in a few "yes sir" and "no sir" responses but that was about all I could manage.

I was pretty much sobbing when they decided enough lecturing and it was time to paddle. I was told to prepare myself and bring the paddle to the living room. Preparing myself meant removing any clothing that went below my waist. While the "French Maid" costume barely went below my waist I knew better than to argue about its removal so it came off along with my panties, nylons, and shoes. What did that leave me wearing? Absolutely nothing. That's right I was totally naked for a spanking from my Dad. When Dad realized I hadn't been wearing a bra he decided I needed the belt instead of the paddle.

Dad took the belt from me and had me bend over and touch my toes. Seemed like the position of the day to me at this point. He then noticed that I had obviously been paddled and somewhat recently. He started swinging that belt full force. I could her it singing through the air almost constantly. Dad rarely yelled at me while he spanked but, he made an exception on this day. I found myself sobbing "Yes, sir." , "No, sir." , and "I'm sorry sir." over and over. I swear he swung that belt non-stop for 5 minutes at least. I was screaming and begging by the time he stopped. Immediately upon stopping he grabbed me by the back of my hair and thrust me into a corner. "Don't you dare move from there until I tell you or I'll more than double what I just gave you. Do you understand me little girl?" Dad barked as my nose met the wall. "Yes, sir" I squeaked between sobs.

I was left standing there wanting nothing more than to massage my very blistered buttocks for a very long time. Judging by the clock when I was finally sent to my room for the rest of the night it was around an hour. I went to sleep on my stomach still crying and didn't wake until the next morning. After I showered and dressed myself for the day I went to find my Dad out on the Ranch. He was of course already working by that time. When I found him he wasn't alone but, my pride had long sense taken a back seat. I begged his forgiveness for my horrid behavior and he gave it. He hugged me real tight and kissed my forehead. He told me he loved me and that we would of course have a long talk later in the day. I practically skipped backed to the house despite my still very sore backside. Dad had forgiven me, all was right in my world and I couldn't have been happier.

A few days after that the boy of my dreams, Aaron asked me out on my first date. Unfortunately I had to turn him down on account of being grounded but, he was a gentlemen and rescheduled for a time when I was available. Rachel remained angry with me for several months. She actually ended up dating one of Aaron's friends and it was on a double date when all was finally forgiven between us. Rachel's PE paddling and my Math class paddling became legend around the school. I learned to stop blushing when the subject came up and ask the boys if they jerked off thinking of me getting spanked like that. It usually quieted the boys right down, even made a few of them blush.