Sunday, October 24, 2004

Story: Spanked by Mr. Schneider

Yay! I just found out that this little story I wrote for the soc.sexuality.spanking Short Story Contest this summer won 2nd place. (Bouncing in my seat with glee, especially after reading the comments on my story [you have to scroll down past the story to read them].)

However, a warning. It's not a fun spanking story and certainly not intended to be erotic. Like most spankos, my spanking fantasies started at an early age and I daydreamed about teachers spanking me. What inspired me to write this story was wondering what I would have actually felt if I had actually been spanked by one of my teachers.


Spanked by Mr. Schneider [M/f, child 500 words]

I always used to think about it. Getting spanked by Mr. Schneider.

It started when we were reading To Kill A Mockingbird in my language
arts class and Hillary Hanson asked what it meant when Scout said
Atticus threatened to "wear us out." Mr. Schneider got a funny grin on
his face.

"That means he's going to whip their hide."

It made me giggle. Especially when he looked at me after he said it.

Made me dream at night that he was my dad, whipping my hide with his belt.

This one day in class my friends, Tim and Cameron, and I were playing
Paper, Rock, Scissor when we were supposed to be working on our
vocabulary worksheets.


I looked up as I slapped my right hand down on my left palm.
Tim and Cameron were turned around in their desks. Mr. Schneider was
scowling at me.

"Melissa, I want to see you after class." I gulped and went back to
figuring out Latin prefixes with a hot/cold tingly feeling.

He closed the door when everyone left. It was lunchtime so there wasn't
another class coming.

"Explain to me why you weren't doing your work." He unbuttoned the
cuffs of his shirt sleeves. Rolled them up to his elbows.

"I dunno." I looked down at the cream linoleum swirling around my desk.

"Not the answer I was looking for, young lady." He unbuckled his belt
and slid it through the loops of his gray slacks. My eyes felt big
inside my head. "Stand up. Pull your jeans and underwear down and bend
over the desk."

I stood up. Looked at him. My bottom lip started wiggling and my eyes
got all teary. But I just stood there. Hoping he'd change his mind and
wouldn't make me do something so embarrassing.

"Do as I asked, please." Forceful, but in the same tone of voice. I
whimpered. Sniffled. Unbuttoned my jeans. "We both know you deserve
this." He had that funny grin again. Made him seem like one of those
guys my mother said lurked in the woods behind our apartments. I bent
over the desk with my naked behind in full view. Hoping to God nobody
walked in at that moment. Praying to God somebody would.

The splat of the belt echoed in the room. And it stung like hell. But
it was when he rubbed my bottom after the first couple of whacks that I
started crying. He hit me a few more times. Then stopped and rubbed
again. More whacks. More rubbing. I think he gave me about twenty
whacks in all. I was really crying by the end.

"Shhh..." He gave me his handkerchief. Pulled me against him. Rubbed my
back and bottom. When I stopped crying, he told me I could go to lunch.

"The State allows me to use corporal punishment. So be a good girl."

With that same grin.

I still think about it. Mr. Schneider spanking me.

But now I just feel icky.

Copyright 2004 Natty

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