Smoking

Texas High Schools hold their students up to high standards. Its really no surprise that the schools produce very polite and respectful adults if not well educated ones. The always present threat of a paddling form the Principal was never far from a mischievous students mind. I was sent to the principal's office 6 times throughout my 4 years of high school. I wasn't even considered to be close to a problem student either, just one that needed a painful reminder from time to time. There were others in my class that had been sent as many as 16 times. There were a few students that were never sent but, most felt the school paddle between 4 and 8 times during their time in high school.

The incident I'm about to describe occured in my junior year and is one of the reason I strongly oppose corporal punishment in the school environment. You see this is one of two paddling I
received at school that I did not deserve. The skeptics among you are probably saying to yourselves, "Every kid that gets a spanking thinks they didn't deserve it." Well I don't hold any grudges over spankings I've received and most of the ones I got growing up were more than deserved. This paticular event though opened my eyes to the problem that the school as an entity isn't always able to make accurate judgements. Parents are the only ones truly capable of knowing when or if their child is lying. Of course, they can make mistakes here too but, when they do it is usually with good reason. A school Principal isn't able to know each and every student to that degree and is faced with making difficult discipline decisions without that benefit. They do their best with facts and witnesses but more often than not they are jumping to conclusions based on their preconcieved ideas of the behavior of youths in general.

The first I found out I was in trouble was the arrival of a student aide during my History class. He brought a note to my teacher and a moment later I was told to the accompany the boy to the principal's office. The announcement was followed by a round of ooh's and snickering by my
classmates. Leaving the classroom with the office aide, who looked to be a sophmore, I was of course very concerned and my mind was racing trying to figure out what I had done.

As the two of us walked through the corridors to the office there was an awkward silence, probably more from my uncomfortablness than his. Just before we reached the office he stopped for a moment and talked to me. "Look, I don't know you and I'm sure you'd rather not know me. But, I would want to know if I was you so, here's the deal. They did a locker search today and found contraband in you locker. Principal's already called your folks and there on their way here. I gather that means your being suspended or even expelled. I uh, know its none of my business, I just thought you'd want to know before going in there." He shrugged at me looking a little afraid that I might be angry with him.

I admit I was confused and feeling a bit indignant. The only thought running through my head was, 'Contraband? What the hell? The only thing in my locker is a few extra pens and pencils. I hardly used the damn thing because it's impossible to get to between classes.' After a moment I realized I was scaring the boy and decided I better reassure him. "I'm not mad at you. Its just what you said doesn't make any sense at all they must have something mixed up. Thank you for telling me, that was a very cool thing to do."

Well at least the office aide felt a little better as we entered the office. I didn't have to wait at all once we got there. The principal had been waiting impatiently and took me into his office right away. He directed me to stand in front of his desk and closed his door. He didn't bother going behind his desk he just came straight over to me and started yelling with his face only a few inches from mine. He went on and on about what a disgusting habit smoking was and how it was illegal for someone my age to even have them not to mention to have them on a school campus. He told me I could be sent to juvenile detention facility or that my parents could be fined or even sent to jail. Not everything he was saying was true but, I didn't know that at the time. I was terrified. Each time I tried to explain that the cigarrettes couldn't possibly be mine, he would move a little closer to my face and yell, "SHUT UP!" or "SAVE YOUR LIES FOR YOUR PARENTS!" It was impossible to get him to listen he was so worked up. I was frustrated to the point of tears but I kept telling myself, 'Don't you let this bastard see you cry.'

Finally, he stepped back and told me he was going to give me 15 swats with the school paddle, the maximum allowed, and that I was suspended for 3 days. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, being paddled for something I didn't do was bad enough but, the suspension would seriously hurt my grades. I wasn't the top student in my class but, I was in the top ten. I had tests in nearly all of my classes the following day and being suspended meant I would recieve failing grades because students weren't allowed to make up work or tests missed because of being suspended. I was more forceful when I spoke up having realized all of this, "Don't believe me but, talk to my Dad! He'll tell you there is no way those cigarettes are mine! Please talk to my Dad!"

His response shocked me. "I've already spoke with your parents and they given me permission to
make this a bare bottom school paddling you'll never forget!" That was the end of discussion. He
made sure I knew it was over by picking up the paddle and pointing it at me as he told me tot ake off my skirt and lower my panties to my ankles. I was infuriated and of course I didn't want to comply. The problem is that it was engrained into me to do as I was told by adults with authority over me. I wanted to argue more or make him wait for my parents to get there but, I 'knew' better. You never forget surrendering yourself to a spanking that you don't feel you deserve. I was horrified to have to stand in front of this man with my privates on display and obey him as though he were my father.

He didn't make me stand there long. He had me bend over the side of his desk grabbing the far edge. This forced me to be rather stretched out. In fact, I had to push myself up on my tip-toes to reach the other side of the desk. It seemed like I waited there over his desk for at least five minutes before the first swat. The whole time I was waiting all I could think about was that fearsome paddle he was holding and how much it was going to hurt. The paddle itself was probably 24 inches in length, 6 inches wide, and a half inch thick. A single swat with it would leave two bruises, one on each buttock. The most I had ever had for any previous offense was 5 swats. The bruises from that had lasted about 4 days. I was simply terrified at the prospect of three times as many swats.

The paddling itself was slow and deliberate. It lasted a full fifteen minutes as each swat was delivered at one minute intervals. My vow to not cry was broken on the 3rd swat. By the 6th swat he was having to push me back down. I was screaming and kicking my legs wildly trying to get away. It seemed as soon as I was able to control myself enough to stay down it would be time for the next swat and I would be trying to bolt again. On the 12th swat all the fight left and I just laid there on the desk sobbing and crying out for my Daddy. After the final swat I was ordered to stand up and intelace my hands behind my head. I honestly no longer cared that I was bare. He lectured me for several minutes asking questions requiring answers of either yes or no sir. When he was satisfied I had learned from his paddle he told me to get dressed. In my struggles I had kicked my panties off and across the room. I rubbed my bottom as I walked over to them. I dressed rather quickly despite the burning in my backside.

He escorted me out of his office by the arm and delivered me to my parents who were waiting in the next room. It was obvious everyone in the office had heard my screams. The boy who had escorted me to the office looked as though he was fighting back tears himself. The principal wanted a few private words with my Dad. My Dad was so concerned about me though he told the principal it would have to wait. I walked with my parents to their car in complete silence. I could tell they were mad. What I didn't know then was they weren't mad at me. The instant I sat down in the car I couldn't help but cry out. The pain of sitting down resulted in a renewed burst of tears that I couldn't stop.

At home, Dad took me up to my room and helped me to lay face down on my bed. He sat down next to me and gently started stroking my hair. It was something he hadn't done in years. It took a few minutes for it to have the calming effect my Dad intended. Once I stopped crying he asked me just one question, "Were you holding those cigarrettes for someone?" My answer of course was, "No, sir. They weren't mine either Daddy. I swear I never saw them before." He just kissed my forehead and told me he knew that already. He left me to try and sleep some and he went straight back to the school to give the principal hell.

You see when I was a little girl my Mom used to smoke. Problem was it turned out I was highly allergic to cigarette smoke. Mom had to quit smoking because of that. My parents were still very
much aware of my allergy because not 6 months prior to that I had ended up in the emergency room
because I went out on a date with a boy who's parents were smokers. He was driving their car and
just the residual smoke in it was enough to cause me to collapse gasping for air. Scared the poor boy half to death. He called 911 and stayed with me all the way to the hospital, where he called my Dad. A very responsible young man and still a good friend of mine to this day.

Now you say if that's the case then why did they give the principal permission to paddle me in the first place? Well that's because the word contraband was used instead of cigarettes. My parents assumed the reference was to drugs and their immediate reaction to that was not only should I get paddled at school but, they were planning a follow-up dose of the belt upon getting me home. When they arrived at the school office my spanking was already in progress and they could hear me screaming and begging for my Daddy. The principal's secretary informed them that it was a normal reaction for 15 swats, a very severe punishment, and that I would most likely have bruises for 2 to 3 weeks. My parents started asking questions about the contraband. By this time my paddling had ended and my parents became furious finding out that contraband meant cigarettes. Apparently the pity I thought I was seeing on everyones face wasn't for me it was for the principal who was going to soon learn of the very large mistake he had made.

By the time my Dad left to go back to the school there was only about an hour half left in the school day. Still he managed to chew out the principal, get my suspension lifted, and bring about an investigation that revealed the boy who had 'snitched' about seeing me smoking had planted the cigarettes in my locker because he felt snubbed by me when I turned away his advances a couple of weeks prior.

Even though my suspension was lifted my Dad kept me home for the rest of the school week. He brought me my homework from my classes and made arrangements for me to make up the tests I had missed while I was out. When I did return to school I found my Dad and I had been the non-stop
topic of discussion with my classmates. I got lots of sympathy from my friends and none of them could say enough about how great my Dad was. Apparently he had made quite an impression taking on the school principal and although I'm sure the stories were exagerated, it was considered common knowledge that our fearsome school principal had cowered before my Dad.