The Principal's New Paddle III

From: [email protected] (Deep Run)

The last part of this little trilogy - hope it "bares" up under the scrutiny of this group. If reading accounts of child being spanked is offensive to you - be warned - do not read any further.

Judging by some of the e-mail responsesregarding part 1 and part 2 - most of the readers in the group were "goodie-two-shoes" as kids! Was I one of the few smart-alec, cocky little boys that thought he was in charge of the world? . . . or at least planning to be?


Daddy came home for lunch. That was a shock. I was shocked again when Mommy came to the bedroom door to put my younger brother down for his nap and she told me that Daddy was ready to see me now in their bedroom.

"But . . . I'm naked," I reminded her from under the covers of my bed.

"That's alright, dear," she answered with a tight smile. "For what your Daddy has in mind you won't be needing any pants."

My face screwed itself up into immediate tears. Another paddling! I just knew it - and it wasn't fair!

"Hurry up and don't keep him waiting," Mommy advised me. "He's pretty upset and he wants to tell you what "he's" going to do the next time Mr. Brenner, the school principal, paddles you!"

I dragged myself out of bed and trudged very slowly to my parent's bedroom. Since my little brother was napping, anything serious, "loud" and serious, would take place at the other end of the house.

Knocking on the door, I encouraged more tears knowing that showing I was sorry was very often all that Daddy really needed to see.

"Come in Tommy," my Daddy's voice didn't sound at all pleasant.

I walked right up to him and stood in my meekest pose right in front of where he sat on the edge of their bed. That wasn't too hard to do since I was absolutely bare-naked and had lots of practice putting on that little-boy innocent act.

I noticed immediately that the paddle from the car was already on the bed beside him. Well, OK, I knew I'd get another paddling from Daddy, but I also knew it just could not be as bad as what Mommy had given out yesterday. I sniffled and stopped crying so that Daddy would know I was ready to really listen to what he had to say.

"Do you realize that I am missing a half-day of work because you think it is OK to misbehave!"

I hadn't thought much about why he was home early. I shrugged and tried to indicate that I was too young to understand such things.

"Missing half a day of work because I have to go to school with you and talk to the principal," he continued. "Your mother and I have had absolutely enough of this kind of nonsense. From now on you are going to behave."

As if his just telling me would make the difference. Now, I wasn't being insolent in my thinking - only honest. I knew that his just saying that I should behave would have little to no effect. Of course, Mommy and Daddy seemed to have figured that out too. That's why I was standing naked in front of him right now - he was going to do something "more" than just telling me. Actually I think Mommy beat Daddy to it and had started to "do" something about it last year!

"Your Mother tells me you've already been given a real good spanking from her."

"Oh yes, Daddy!" on that I could certainly agree. "She did, and it really, really hurt and I already cried and cried and I'm sorry I've caused all this trouble."

"Yes," he continued, "well, I intend to do something about this also. And I'm starting today before we leave to see Mr. Brenner."

He paused for a moment and picked up the paddle. My eyes were glued to it as he started smacking that thing ever so gently in the palm of his hand. The tiny slapping noises were getting to me in a hurry.

"I'm going to paddle you before we go to school today," he said rather matter of factly. "I want to give you a good reminder about proper behavior and what will happen if you don't behave. So today, while we're talking to Mr. Brenner, you can sit there on one very sore little bottom. That hot bottom will be to remind you about good behavior, and what happens to bad little boys in this house! I hope your bottom stays good and sore and hot for the whole time we're there, and I'm going to try to make sure it does!"

He continued after a short pause to let the news sink in. I must have not reacted very much because my silence seemed to be what caused him to make up his mind about what came next. For a moment I thought about voicing my complaint that I'd already been spanked twice for the same thing. I really thought twice was plenty - especially when those two people had been Mr. Brenner and Mommy!! It's a real good thing I didn't say anything - but the fact that I just stood there with no reaction was not the best move either.

I should have known better - with Daddy it was always best to show a lot of emotion and tears and crying and repentance. Maybe if I had reacted more he wouldn't have continued and a single paddle session would have been enough for him. But I was only eight-years old and thinking a little slowly at the moment. In my mind right then was just how unfair it was that Daddy was going to paddle me also when the job had already been done. It was no fair to get paddled so many times for the same thing!

"All right, then," he added, "AND I'm going to paddle you before I leave for work tomorrow morning too. That way you can go to school with a hot bottom as a reminder on Friday also."

This time I did react. I looked up into his face to see if he was serious, my eyes wide as I thought about how many times getting in trouble "once" was causing me to get a paddling!

"Good, I've got your attention now," said Daddy. "That's all I'll paddle - THIS time - but if you get paddled at school again it'll be bad news for you here at home. Not only does Mr. Brenner have permission to use that paddle from our house - on your bare behind - but I understand your Mother has promised you a really good spanking from her just as soon as you get home. Well, here's my promise. If you get in trouble in school and Mr. Brenner paddles you, then I'm going to paddle you every morning for the whole next week before I go to work. I'll wake you up and paddle you good and hard so that you can go to school with a firery hot behind to sit on and remind you all day long about good behavior. Are you listening to me!!"

I was stunned! There was no need for fake tears right at the moment as real tears streamed down my face just thinking about how unfair this was. My head swirled with the impossible thought of getting paddled every day for a week, and that would be after both Mr. Brenner and Mommy were done with me. It was too much for a little eight-year old boy. I felt so sorry for myself.

"Oh Daddy, I'm really sorry!" I said wiping the tears from my face. And I was sorry this was happening to me - really!

"Really I am so sorry." I lurched forward between his knees and reached forward to hug him. That always got to my Daddy. I knew he was going to paddle me today, that was a given, and maybe even tomorrow although I was already willing to bet it wouldn't be very hard. I was now going to work at getting him to change his mind about that "every morning" thing!

But Daddy seemed to be acting "hard" today and turned my reach for a hug into a flip over his knee.

Now, I've explained this in other posts, but if you're a first time reader you wouldn't know the difference between a Daddy spanking and a Mommy spanking. Mommy kept her legs together when I went over her lap. She allowed my legs to "hang free" while she kept a vise-like grip with her left arm around my waist. I was absolutely trapped and yet my legs could kick and scissor and pump and stiffen out all they wanted to, and when she started using "Grandma's Hairbrush" on my bared behind, my legs couldn't help but dance. Thinking back, it is a wonder sometimes, especially as I got older and bigger (which took a while for me!!) that Mommy was always able to hold me in place. Not that I would have ever "dared" to move off her lap on purpose! But you know how it is when that brush is doing a "good job" don't you? You can't hardly think of anything else "except" that brush and the "job" it is doing to your bottom cheeks and how you'd like to get you poor little bare butt "anywhere" else!!

Now, while I considered Daddy more of a softy when it came to paddling me, he didn't allow me the freedom of "expression" during the paddle session that Mommy did. Daddy would pull me "between" his legs; when I was little - lifting me "up" onto his left knee. When I got taller, I was required to push up with my toes until my bared bottom was in the spot Daddy wanted it. Then he would close his legs with my legs trapped between his. Sometimes he even locked his legs together by crossing his ankles. Then he would push my head down until my hips were pressed firmly over his leg and my chest met the mattress (or whatever - depending on just "where" we were). My left arm always went down, sort of beside Daddy's butt, while he would take control of my right hand by grabbing it and holding it firmly in the small of my back with his left hand. That manuver seemed to serve two purposes - first it kept my right hand out of his way, and second it kept my upper body firmly over his leg. With a Daddy spanking, I felt totally trapped. I don't think ropes or chains would have made me feel any more helpless. I could kick my feet from the knees down and swivel my head from side-to-side or up-and-down as I cried, but that was about it. I know I "tried" to move my butt away from the paddle, you just can't help trying, but I don't think I ever managed more than a hopeless wiggle until Daddy was done and would release me. Then, unlike Mommy, Daddy allowed me to use my hands and rub away some of the burn and dance around for a minute before I was planted in a corner. Mommy made me keep hands at my side and no dancing - I could sort of "bob" up and down as I stood in the corner - but anything more demonstrative ran the risk of more time over her lap with that damn brush!

Now, even though I was surprised this time that I didn't manage a hug first, Daddy still positioned me in his traditional manner. I sighed and prepared for what I thought would be a traditional paddling. I guess Daddy was a little more upset than I thought. Maybe having to miss half a day of work had something to do with it.

I could feel him moving to grab the paddle. I felt it lay gently on my bare behind. I drew in my breath and tensed for the moment. Heck, even the usual eight or ten swats from Daddy still held a lot of sting! Of course, even a dozen of his best was bareable. I could stand it - I was a tough little guy. I didn't expect things to be like yesterday with Mommy and that hairbrush, but please understand my Daddy was no slouch when it came to knowing how to use that paddle! What "I" didn't understand yet was just how upset my Daddy was with me this time.


WHOA!! This wasn't right! This wasn't normal! Daddy never spanked as fast and furiously as he was today!


I howled in disbelieve, my entire body stiffened as the lightning-like strikes of the car paddle seared splotches onto my tender behind. He'd already given me ten of his best in hardly as many seconds. LIke I said, eight to ten was "average" with Daddy. I don't think he counted spanks equals years-old like GrandPa did - but after all - GrandPa was Daddy's father. Daddy must have "gotten it" from GrandPa just like I got it from GrandPa - and GrandPa always gave one lick of the strap for every year old I was. I never got more than ten or twelve smacks from the paddle from Daddy!


Fifteen seconds, fifteen spanks. I'm not really sure that it was that many or that fast, but this was not the Daddy spanking I had expected. The fire on my behind was just now starting to really register in my brain. He was going so fast that there seemed to be a bit of a time-lag. The unexpected heat just kept building and building!


I don't think he ever slowed down that afternoon. Perhaps he was determined to be "firm" with me and thought that if he went slow he might not deliver everything I deserved. I don't know what he was thinking. My only thoughts were of that paddle and the unbelievable fire mounting on my exposed bottom. I was past the "whole-body tense in surprise" stage and had shifted to the "whole-body frantically trying to move somewhere else" stage. I screamed, I yelled, I cried real tears, I struggled, it hurt, I was hopelessly locked in position and that paddle didn't slow down!


He couldn't possibly understand just how much this was hurting me! I struggled for air, I strained to move my bottom off his knee and away from that awful paddle, my behind hurt so much, tears streamed down my face, I couldn't see, oh God but my behind hurt so MUCH!


Never, never, never had my Daddy spanked me like this before! I suddenly just completely gave up. I couldn't see through the tears, I couldn't talk my way out of it because all I could do was howl, I couldn't get my bottom away from that paddle. I just had to admit that I had been a naughty boy - no, worse than that - a very bad little boy - and now my Daddy was doing what should happen to every bad little boy. I stopped struggling and just lay there and sobbed and sobbed and tried to keep breathing.


I reached a new and strange point in getting spanked at this point. For just a little bit and in a little way, there seemed to be two of me. One part of my brain was still registering just how badly that paddle was burning my poor little behind. Another part of me was realizing that I could get it together enough to be able to shout out something - that indeed - I really ought to be saying something to my Daddy.



And he stopped. It still took me a moment to realize that the paddle had ended its punishment on my now well-reddened bottom.


He released me but I still lay on his lap. I was crying too hard at first to be able to stand. When Daddy helped me off his lap, I backed away from him a full step turning my very sore bottom away from him and the paddle.

My face must have had a wide-eyed, shocked look of terror, awe, and a new-found respect for just what my Daddy could do with that paddle of his. I still couldn't see clearly what with all the tears and my face felt so messy with all the snot and crying. I couldn't stop crying. I didn't even dance around like I usually would to help one of Daddy's little paddlings go away. This one was just too deep of a spanking and no amount of rubbing and dancing would help. All I seemed able to do was stand there and cry and apologize over and over again to my Daddy. Looking back at it from my "grown-up" perspective, I'd like to believe that I really was sorry for all the trouble I'd caused my Daddy at that moment. Not sorry that I'd been spanked - that was what I felt most of the time. I mean really sorry that I'd been bad and when I promised, after I was able to stop crying and Daddy had wiped my face, when I promised to try to be good - I really meant it this time!

We went to the school to talk to Mr. Brenner about an hour later. Luckily, there were not enough chairs in his office and I "had to" stand. I was admitted back into school for Friday after I'd promised "again" to try really hard to follow ALL the rules and be a good boy. It was also explained to me - again - that Mr. Brenner had permission to pull down my pants and paddle me during school if I misbehaved. Mr. Brenner agreed. My school life had just changed course.

My Daddy did paddle me the next morning, too - and it was still not has average eight to ten swats! I didn't count - but it was closer to a good twenty or so before he left me to cry and he went to work. I think he went at least a little easier on me, though, because I had noticed that for one time in my young life, his paddle had left some marks from the day before. I think Daddy felt bad about that.

The rest of elementary school ? Well, as much as I meant what I promised that day, it still did NOT magically change me into someone else. I still had the rest of 4th grade and all of 5th and 6th grade with Mr. Brenner. During all that time, I probably only got paddled by him four or so more times. Considering that I got paddled that many times each year both in 2nd and 3rd grade - well - I'd say that was a big improvement. (Of course, in 2nd and 3rd grade a paddling by Mr. Brenner meant "touch your toes" and get two swats from his big paddle. Big deal! See "The Principal's New Paddle" for more details on how that all changed.)

Daddy kept his promise by the way!!

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