This is a story. It never happened and never will. The General Disclaimer is incorporated herein by reference.

BR&T date: Monday, 12 February 1996

"Reading time is over. Put your books away. It's handwriting time. Where did we leave off?" The teacher looked around the fourth grade classroom. A boy raised his hand. "Alright, next one after Steve." He waited, but not very long. "That's you, Sara Jessica!" he scolded. "Go up to the chalkboard and show us your handwriting."

Sara, sitting behind the boy who had raised his hand, rose to her feet, but stood hesitating, having no idea what she was supposed to do.

"If you haven't been paying attention, I'll explain it to you. I said go up to the chalkboard. Was that so hard to understand?"

Nervously, Sara walked to the front of the classroom, still confused. She had moved to that town less than a week ago, and had started fourth grade at Bunnytail Elementary only that morning. She didn't even know the teacher's name yet, since he naturally hadn't introduced himself to all the students who already knew him, and Sara had been too shy to ask. It surprised her that he even knew her name. How was she supposed to know what they did for handwriting time, before anyone told her??

"Draw the next card out of the basket," he ordered. "Copy the question on it exactly, on the chalkboard, using the purple chalk. Then write the answer and underline it using pink chalk."

Sara drew a card from the only basket she could see. She read it. She blushed. "Am I supposed to write this on the board??" she asked.

Irritated, the teacher replied, "What did I just tell you to do?" He turned back to another student and resumed a whispered conversation.

Sara searched for a piece of purple chalk, finally finding one in a pile of broken pieces at the end of the chalk tray. She moved to a clean part of the chalkboard and raised her arm high to begin writing. Since this was the handwriting lesson, she figured she was supposed to write as neatly as she could. 'But why this?' she wondered. Carefully, she wrote:

After a girl has taken off all of her clothes, what is she?

Sara turned around, embarrassed by the snickering from several boys as she finished writing. "Am I supposed to answer it, too?" she asked bashfully. The card didn't have an answer on it, not even on the back. She didn't like writing the question. She certainly didn't want to answer it in front of everyone in the class.

"What did I just tell you to do!?" the teacher barked, again.

Sara neatly wrote her answer, and remembered to underline it:

After a girl has taken off all of her clothes, what is she?

bare

"Mister Taylor!" a boy in the front row called out, sounding excited. "Sara wrote the answer in purple chalk!"

"And she got the answer wrong," some other boy snickered in the back of the class.

"Thank you, Dave," the teacher said, then turned back to Sara. "Sara Jessica!" he spoke in an icy voice. "What color did I tell you to use to write the answer?"

Sara hung her head. "Pink," she murmured.

The teacher pointed to the door. "Go to the principal's office."

"But-" Sara began to protest.

"Now!!" the teacher yelled. "And believe me, if you don't go straight there, I'll know about it, and so will Principal Winters."

It took Sara some time to even find the principal's office, even allowing for her fear telling her not to go there at all. She had to follow the entire horseshoe-shaped hallway from her classroom at one end to his office at the other end, walking all the way around the center row of classrooms. She could have gone outside, past the playground, and reached it faster, if she had known before starting. She hoped she wouldn't get in trouble for not knowing how to get there.

When she entered the outer office, Sara hesitated, unsure what to do. Five boys from an older class filled a wooden bench on one wall to her right. She timidly looked through the doorway to her left, at the principal working at his desk. "Uhh..." she squeaked.

He looked up. "What is it? Were you sent to my office by your teacher?" he asked.

"Uhh, yes," Sara answered.

"That sure didn't take long. Another troublemaker, eh? Sit on the bench with the boys and wait." He returned to his work.

Sara turned and approached the bench, but saw no place for her to sit. "I'm supposed to sit here," she said meekly, though the boys had heard the principal themselves.

"You can sit on my lap," the middle boy offered.

"Or you can sit on the floor, and get spanked for it," another boy suggested with a smirk. None of them budged in the slightest to make room for her anywhere else.

Of the two choices, Sara picked the least bad. She turned around and began to lower herself onto the boy's lap. But in the last instant before she sat, someone lifted her dress in back so she sat with her bare legs and panties against the boy's rough jeans, even her bare back against the buttons of his shirt. "Hey!!" she squealed.

"Shut up out there!" the principal called angrily.

"Hey! Stop it!" Sara squealed again. The boy underneath her had his hands under her dress, on the sides of her panties. And it felt to her like he was trying to slide his fingers inside.

The principal set aside his papers and demanded, "Alright, get in here now. Boys first. All five of you."

With a disappointed sigh, the middle boy stood, pushing Sara to her feet. Her dress fell back into place.

"I'm telling!" Sara hissed at him.

He grinned back at her. "Try it, and you'll regret it!" he threatened.

"Got any witnesses?" another boy asked mockingly.

"I'm a witness!" another boy volunteered. "I saw her spitting! Should I tell on her?"

"Depends what she tells," the first boy said, looking at Sara. The other four boys turned with him and entered the main office, leaving Sara alone in the outer office in stunned silence. Before sitting on the bench, she pushed her dress here and there to get her panties back into place. The door stood open as before, so Sara saw all of them and heard everything.

"Why were you sent here this time?" the principal asked.

"We held a girl down on the floor in the hallway and pulled off her dress and panties," one boy admitted.

"And kept holding her," another added.

"By her arms and legs," the first explained.

"With her legs real wide," a third chimed in, sounding more than a little boastful.

"Who was she?" the principal asked.

"Uh, it was Keela? No, Kayla, right?" one boy asked another, who nodded uncertainly. "Right. She had rainbow socks, I know that for sure, and Her Little Ponies before we took 'em off her. Kayla Hender-"

"I know her. Cute redhead. In first grade. Fine. I'll get her in here and have her show me what happened, to make sure you told me everything." He made a note on a pad of paper, then looked up at the boys. "Were you supposed to be in class?" he demanded.

"No. It was before class, uh, when everyone else was in the hallway too. We wasn't skipping class or nothing," the first boy stated.

"Alright, well, we can't have that sort of behavior here," the principal declared. "People could trip over you in the crowded hallway. I'm giving you detention. Go sit on the bench until I tell you that you can go back to class. And if you do it again, you'll get detention again. Remember that!"

The boys were about to leave when one suggested, "No one would trip on us if we were out on the playground, right?" The principal made no comment.

The boys filed out of the office, not looking nearly as chastised as Sara thought they deserved. They would have been expelled for that in her old school, she thought angrily. She got out of the way and let the boys take the bench. But at least the principal was lenient, so her own misdeed, using the wrong color of chalk, would likely not even get her a stern scolding, she figured, with relief.

"Now you! Get in here!" the principal called to her.

"...spitting!" a boy whispered, clearly meant for her to hear.

Sara entered quickly and turned to shut the door, surprised to find it blocked open by a rack of audio-visual equipment. The boys would hear everything he said to her, too. She turned and approached his desk, and leaned against it to get as far from the boys as she could, hoping they wouldn't hear her. "One of them-" she began quietly.

"Stand with your toes on the line!" he growled, interrupting her. "You're new here, so you'll get away with that once, but just once."

Sara looked down and quickly backed up to a line of masking tape on the floor. She stood facing him with her toes on it, her resolve to tell on the boy shattered. Now was not the time to tell what that boy had just done, she decided. She would have to say it loudly, and all the boys would hear her, and then maybe they'd get her in trouble too, her word against five boys. And after what she'd just heard him do for the other, maybe he would only add a few minutes to the boy's detention anyway, even if he believed her, she thought. She'd tell on that brat later. Maybe.

"Remind me, what's your name?" the surly old man demanded, his hand on a bank of buttons and switches on his desk.

"Sara. Uh, Sara Carson," she stammered.

"Louder, and say it like you're introducing yourself," he responded.

"Sar- I mean, I'm Sara Car-"

"Your name is...!" he angrily interrupted. "And give your full name. Then your age and grade, and I said louder."

"My, my name is Sara Jessica Carson," she stammered fearfully. "Umm." Remembering what she was supposed to add, she continued "Um, I'm in fourth grade. I- I'm ten years old."

"Well, Sara Jessica Carson, why were you sent to my office?"

Sara stood before him, eyes downcast, and murmured "I used the wrong color of chalk to write something on the blackboard."

"Explain."

"I wrote it in purple."

"Why was that the wrong color?"

"I was told to write it in pink."

"So, you didn't do what you were told to do, is that what you mean?"

He sounded very angry, Sara thought, much more than she expected. She nodded silently.

"Then say that!" he demanded. "As loud as before."

"I- um. I- I didn't do what I was told to do." She thought she heard some cheers from the boys behind her, watching and listening through the door. Maybe she'd just scored some points with them as another troublemaker. At least, that was her best guess. She didn't know if she wanted that kind of reputation, though. She was a good girl, and didn't want anyone to think otherwise.

"Not doing what you're told to do is very serious. And what happens to girls who don't do what they're told to do?" he asked, as if the answer was obvious.

"Uhh... I don't know," Sara answered.

He shook his head. "They get spanked until they know they better do what they're told to do the next time, and every time," he told her. "They get spanked every single time they don't do what they're told to do. You're going to learn that today and you better remember it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. But I'm new here, right?" Sara asked hopefully.

"Do you think every time doesn't include the first time, Sara Jessica Carson? You didn't do what you were told to do, so now you're going to get spanked. Say that and say it as loud as before." He rolled his chair back from his desk, ready to stand.

Sara gasped. He was going to spank her for writing something in purple instead of pink?? After what the boys did that they didn't get spanked for?

He stood. "I just told you to do something, and so far, you haven't done it. Do you want spanked for that, too?"

Sara cringed. He was going to spank her anyway! And the boys would be watching! But she didn't want to make it any worse. She said what he wanted, trying to be loud enough, "I'm going to get spanked because I didn't do what I was told to do." The boys in the other room really cheered. It had nothing to do with her reputation, Sara realised: they just wanted to see her get spanked. And they were all going to get what they wanted, if the principal didn't close the door first.

He browsed through objects on a shelf behind the desk, a shelf higher than Sara could see. He turned to face her, holding one end of a long wooden stick, like a ruler only thicker, and longer. "Get your panties down," he commanded.

"What?" Sara gasped again.

"You're not very good at doing what you're told to do, yet, are you? You heard me. Get your panties down or you'll get spanked until you do, then get spanked for not doing it. Now!!"

Sara carefully lifted the sides of her dress until she could reach the waistband of her panties, nervously pulled the sides down a hand-width, feeling her panties slide off her bottom, then she smoothed her dress back down.

"To your ankles, Sara Jessica!!" the principal shouted.

Ashamed, but even more afraid, Sara raised the sides of her dress again and pushed her panties down. She heard all the boys snickering in the other room as her panties came into view around her knees. She paused, but from the look of impatience on the principal's face, she knew he wouldn't accept anything less than what he had already demanded. She bent over and pushed, and her panties dropped and landed at her ankles.

"Keep going," he ordered.

Sara stood there, baffled. He had said 'ankles' and that's what she'd done. What did he mean, then, keep going?

The principal took two quick steps toward her and grabbed her wrist, jerked her hand up to the back of her neck, and growled "Keep it there!" A moment later, both of her hands were together behind her neck, on top of her soft wavy brown hair. "Hold this here!" he demanded, as he stuffed several layers of cloth between her hands and her neck. "And this!" he added, stuffing another wad of cloth into her hands.

It took Sara a moment to realise that the cloth she held against the back of her neck was her dress, and only a moment more to realise he had pulled up the back of her dress, then the front, and she was bare all the way to her neck, front and back. She heard laughter from the boys in the other room. "Hey!" she protested, and considered letting go and putting her dress down, but the principal's scowl stopped her. "You're not going to spank me this way, are you!?" she wailed, outraged.

"What do you think?" he sneered. "Now, tell me how many letters you wrote in the wrong color. And before you answer, be sure I'll ask your teacher, and if you lie to me now, you'll be back in here getting double the number of swats you would have got, plus four more for being a liar."

Sara stood holding her dress at her neck, wanting to protest but needing to remember, instead. She remebered the question from the card, and remembered she had written 'bare' as the answer. Did the underline count as a letter? She guessed not, but decided to count it just to be safe. "Five," she squeaked.

"Then you'll get five swats for it," the principal declared. "You keep count, and when you've counted five swats, you can go back to your class, pull your panties up, and your dress back down. You don't move until you've counted five swats. Understood?"

Sara trembled. "Yes," she whimpered. "But please... please shut the door. The boys can see me." She turned to watch him as he moved beside her without even acknowledging her complaint. She tensed as he raised his arm. "AAaauuuuuwww!" she howled from the sudden pain across her soft bare bottom. "Aaawwh! Aawwh!" she cried, barely noticing the cheers from the boys. She remembered she was supposed to count. "Uhhww uhhww... uhhw. One. Uhhhww." She stood crying, awaiting the next swat.

The principal returned to his desk, laid the stick on it, and sat down. He straightened the stack of papers in front of him, and picked up his pen.

"Uhhhnn," Sara cried. She stood facing him, in full view, her panties at her ankles and her dress at her neck. Even worse, the boys in the other room could see her that way. At least, she was glad, no one could see her from in front except the principal, and he wasn't looking at her. "Ah- are you done?" she meekly asked.

"How far have you counted? Was that five?" he mocked, and continued reading, clearly not wanting an answer.

Whenever Sara's crying quieted, she could hear the snickering of the boys in the outer office. She risked a glance by turning her head, and saw they hadn't taken their eyes off her. The sight made her cry even longer. At last she just stood waiting, and wondering.

The principal stood. He picked up the stick from the desk. He moved beside her, and as Sara cringed in fear, he snapped it hard across both of her tender bare mounds.

"Aaaww! Aaawww!" Sara screamed, and began wailing. Only after five seconds did she remember. "T- two, uhhhnn, uhhhhn." Again she could hear the boys' amusement whenever her own crying quieted. She knew they could see right where he'd swatted her, and probably all five of them were watching as he did it. "Aren't you going to just spank me!?" she cried, as the principal took his seat behind the desk, leaving the stick where she could see it.

"You just keep count," he responded gruffly, looking up at her longer than she wanted.

Submissively, Sara stood and waited, and waited, until her soft sniffling and the occasional scratching of the principal's pen were equally loud. She didn't want to make him look at her again, but she didn't want to just stand there forever, either. She could hear the boys whispering behind her, and she could imagine what they were saying about her. She felt almost relieved when the principal stood again and smacked her bottom hard with the stick. "AAauuuhw! Thh- th- three aaawwwww aawww!" she sobbed. "Please pleeease just spannnk mee!" she begged, when he put the stick back on the desk and sat.

He laughed as he looked at her. The boys behind her laughed even louder, and the principal didn't tell them to shut up. This time, his gaze lingered on her.

She kept trying. "Please, just spank me the rest, please!"

"You want to get spanked?" he asked.

Sara didn't want to stand there any longer with him looking at her in front and all the boys looking at her behind. "Yes," she squeaked.

"Then say that, loud and clear, and don't say anything else!"

"I," she began, and trembled. "I-"

"What?" he barked, clearly irritated at her.

"I- I want to get spanked." She resisted the urge to add anything.

"Are you going to do what you're told? If so, then say that, loud and clear."

"I'm going to do what I'm told," Sara stammered, despite her sniffling.

"Say what will happen if you don't do what you're told. Say it all."

"I'll get spanked if I don't do what I'm told," she cried.

Finally, he stood, picked up the stick again, and struck her bare behind with a loud Smack!!

"AAAAUUUuuww!!" Sara shrieked. That blow had hurt her worse than all the ones before it. "Fff.. fff.. foAAaaaauuuuuuwww!! Fffi- ffiiive! Aaww aawwwh, aawwwhh," she sobbed.

He put the stick back on the shelf. When Sara didn't move, he scolded her, "Well? If that was five, then get out." He didn't look at her again, or say anything else.

Relieved, Sara lowered her dress, and her weary arms, covering herself as normal except for her panties around her ankles, which she remembered as soon as she tried to take a step. She must have been standing that way, exposed from her neck to her ankles, for around ten to fifteen minutes, as she waited for him to finish, but it felt like hours to her. Rather than stay in the principal's sight one instant longer than necessary, she hobbled to the outer office, ducked out the door and two steps down the hall, and only then stopped to pull up her panties without the boys staring at her and smirking. She hurried off, retracing her steps along the long corridor, around the two corners, and down the next corridor to her classroom.

To Sara's shock, two people stood waiting for her at her classroom door: her teacher, and the principal. He must have cut through the teacher's lounge in the center row of rooms to get there before her, she realised. They both looked angry. And they both glared at her. Since they blocked the doorway, Sara had no choice but to stop.

"Thanks. I'll deal with her," the principal said, and the teacher returned to his classroom. "What did I tell you to do?" he barked at Sara.

"Go back to my class," Sara murmured. She didn't see the problem.

"No. I told you that you could go back to your class, then pull your panties up and your dress down. You didn't do what you were told, again," he scolded. "And besides," he added, "I've just talked with your teacher, and he said you wrote four letters in the wrong color of chalk. You lied about that, and you know what I said would happen if you lied. Get back to my office."

"But-"

"Shut up and get moving, Sara Jessica, or you'll only make it worse."

Sara turned and started running down the hallway the way she had come, until she remembered she wasn't allowed to run in the hallway. At least, that was the rule at her previous school. Fearfully, she walked the rest of the way down the long hallway, turned down the short hallway, and forced herself down the last long hallway, the rest of the way to his office, already softly crying.

The five boys in 'detention' on the bench grinned at her as she entered, and laughed.

"Get in here," a voice she already detested commanded from the inner office.

Sara wasn't surprised that he'd beaten her back. She tried to quiet her crying as she entered and stood with her toes on the marked line, but she couldn't quite succeed.

"Four for the number of letters," he began, "doubled because you didn't tell the truth the first time, plus another four for lying. And I'll repeat the original five because you didn't do as you were told afterward. How many does that make, can you tell me?"

Sara stood almost silent, dismayed, struggling not to cry so the boys in the outer office wouldn't hear her. With the door still open, she was sure they were watching, and had heard everything the principal said.

"Well? You're in fourth grade. Can't you even add, yet?" he mocked. "It's seventeen." He stood and reached for the shelf behind his desk, taking the same flat stick he had used on her before. "Set up the spanking frame," he told her. As he spoke, he pressed several buttons on a panel on his desk, and flipped a switch.

"Yessss!! Alright!" the boys cheered, through the doorway.

"Wha- what??" Sara stammered. Despite the boys' cheering, she had heard some quiet clicks and soft humming behind her, but paid no attention as she tried to understand his demand.

The principal frowned. "Oh yes, you're new here. I'll do it for you... this time." He lifted a wooden frame that had been standing out of the way against the wall, and brought it over to her. He placed it around her, with a thick board on either side of her and a board running across between them out of reach above her head. Brace pieces above and supports below kept the whole structure steady.

It seemed heavy enough to him that Sara was unsure she could have lifted it even if she had known what to do with it. She would have had to drag one end of it at a time to move it. She stood within it, her toes still on the line of tape, wondering what he was doing.

"Get your panties down," he commanded, just as he had done the first time.

This time, Sara knew better than to hesitate. She reached under her dress and timidly slipped her panties down, all the way to her ankles as she knew he would insist. She knew what the principal was about to demand of her next, and interrupted before he could. "Please- please close the door," she begged. "I don't want the boys to see!"

"Keep going," he ordered.

Sara cringed. He'd shown no sign of even considering her request, let alone granting it. She slowly began to lift her dress. "But they can see me!" she protested tearfully, when cheering from the other room informed her that her dress no longer hid her bare bottom from them.

"Keep going," he repeated.

Defeated, Sara raised her dress to her neck, front and back, and stood waiting, dreading the coming ordeal of getting seventeen swats on her bare bottom as five leering boys watched it all from the other room. She didn't have the luck.

"Turn around," the principal ordered.

That was different from before, but so was the spanking frame. Knowing she'd only get spanked worse if she didn't do as she was told, Sara turned around, hindered only slightly by her panties at her ankles. She could see the boys in the outer office all showing eager grins as they watched her. They obviously had a perfect view of her pussy and even her little titties, and enjoyed it. "Pleaaase!" she begged again. "I don't want them to see me like this!"

"Put your feet out to touch the boards beside you." Again without any acknowledgment of her distress.

Sara trembled. "Ohhhh," she moaned. Trying to obey, she slid one foot then another as far as she could. She looked down and saw her panties stretched tightly between her ankles. "I can't," she cried. "My panties are stopping me." She actually felt relieved, not wanting the boys to see her spreading her legs apart any wider.

"Your feet have to touch both boards!" the principal shouted. "And I don't want to hear your problems, so you better find a solution before I get mad."

As far as Sara could tell, he was already mad. She wondered if he could get any meaner than he already was. She quickly pulled her left foot back to loosen her panties, wiggled her foot out, and stretched to the side until she had both her feet against the wooden frame on either side of her. When she looked up again, the five boys sat on the edge of the bench through the door, paying rapt attention. "Stop looking at me!!" Sara wailed to them, her face red. She cried harder when they only laughed, not one of them turning away for an instant.

"Get your hands on the tops of the boards like your feet, as high as you can reach," the principal ordered.

Sara reached a hand out to the board on her left, having to release her dress to do so. The dress dropped, covering her left side, which Sara gratefully accepted as a small blessing, considering the circumstances. With a half smile, she released the other side to put her right hand out on the board. Her dress dropped back where she wanted it. As fearful as she was, she gave the boys a brief look of triumph. Very brief.

"Get your dress back up, and don't you let that happen again!!"

"But I can't hold it up with my hands on the boards," Sara protested matter-of-factly. Surely he'd see reason.

"I said I don't want to hear your problems, so you better find a solution that keeps your dress out of the way with both hands on the boards."

Sara lifted her dress again, the look of triumph now on the faces of all five boys staring in at her as she exposed herself to them again. She tried laying her dress on her shoulders, but it just slid off as soon as she released it. Maybe if she hooked it over the top of her head? At least then, she wouldn't have to see the boys, and they couldn't see her cry.

"Don't even think about covering your face."

Since she couldn't think of anything else she could do with it, Sara raised her arms high and pulled her dress up higher, along her arms, and completely off. She let it drop beside her, then reluctantly raised her arms to put her hands out on the boards. Sara stood crying, holding her arms and legs apart and dreading the spanking, naked except for her socks and shoes and her panties around one ankle.

_X

"Oh pleaase! Let me turn around," Sara sobbed. "I don't want the boys to see me getting spanked this way!"

"Not like that? Do you want the boys to see your bare bottom while you're getting spanked?" he asked.

"Yye-yes," Sara whimpered. Anything was better than standing facing them while he spanked her, she assumed.

"Then say that."

"I want to turn ar-"

"No! Say it right. Say what you want the boys to see while you're getting spanked."

"I-" Sara gulped. As long as he was giving her a choice, she thought, she'd take any improvement she could get, and say whatever she had to say to get it. "I want- I want the boys to see my bare bottom while I'm getting spanked."

"Alright. Boys! Come in here!" he called. "Sara says she wants you to see her bare bottom while she's getting spanked!"

As expected, the boys immediately rushed into the inner office, colliding with each other in the doorway in their hurry, then took up positions on either side of her. Strangely, none of them stood in front of her to stare at her. For that small favor, at least, she was grateful, and didn't wonder why.

"Ohhh, go away!" she pleaded with them in vain, not daring to move her arms or legs to cover herself.

"Now tell them what you want them to see, Sara, the same way as before," the principal demanded implacably. "Say it, then you can turn around."

She faced the boy who had put his hands in her panties earlier that day, who stood close to her, smirking at her. She turned to another, and he had the same evil smirk. She looked at the floor instead, and murmured "I want you to see my bare bottom while I'm getting spanked."

"Who are you talking to?" the first smirker teased. "I didn't hear her anyway," one of the others complained.

Sara knew what the principal would demand next, so she repeated it louder, "I want all you boys to see my bare bottom while I'm getting spanked." With the boys there in the room with her, it made no difference, but she assumed he'd make the boys leave again, so she turned around in the frame, put her feet against the boards, and raised her arms out like before. She certainly didn't count on his next command.

"Bend over. Put your hands on the boards beside your ankles, as low as you can. And don't fall, or you'll get extra swats."

All the boys moved behind her to watch as Sara obeyed the outrageous demand, leaning forward carefully as she slid her hands down the boards, until she couldn't bend any lower. She could see between her legs that all the boys remained in the room, and still stood on either side of her.

"Say that the boys can see your bare bottom and now you're going to get spanked. Make sure everyone can hear you."

Sure, they could see her bare bottom, Sara knew, but they could all see everything else, too: her face between her legs, her titties on her bare chest, and they could see her pussy anyway. And now he was going to spank her that way, and he wasn't even going to make them leave the room!

"Say it!!" he yelled.

"The boys can all see my baaare baaahhhddom and now I'm gonna get spaaannked. I hate you! I hate you! Ohh, I hate you!!" she wailed.

"Already!?" the principal chuckled. "I was thinking you might after I was done with the spanking, but I guess now I don't have to hold back." And he didn't.

"Aaaauuuuwww!" Sara screamed. He hadn't even moved beside her as a warning, instead bringing the stick down hard from above. "Aaawwwwh awwwwhh awwwh!" she bawled.

"You have to keep count," he reminded her.

"Wwuuhh-AAaauuuiieee! TAAAUUUuuwwwh! I mean threeee," she wailed. "Aaaww aawwwAAUUUWWWH!" she shrieked when the stick struck her pussy.

"Seven!" a boy quipped. "Nineteen! Fifty! One! Sixty-nine!" others laughingly chimed in.

"Faahh- AAaaauuuwww! Fiiivve!" the tormented girl bawled. She had to concentrate as the boys tried to confuse her. Sometimes the principal moved around her, sometimes hitting just her bottom, but usually hitting her pussy as well, which was, of course, far worse for her.

"Are you sure? I thought the last one was five," a boy asked. "No, the last one was three," another answered.

"It was fiiivEEEeeeiiiiee!! Ssiiiix," Sara sobbed, wondering if it would ever end.

Eventually it did, though. "Go back to your classroom," the principal told her, "but keep your dress and panties on top of your head all the way there, using both hands, and don't put them on until you're back at your desk. You know what you'll get if you don't do what you're told. Right, Sara?"

"Yess," she meekly sobbed. Sniffling, she took her panties off her ankle, collected her dress, put them on top of her head, held them with both hands, walked past the boys on the bench while trying not to look at them, and left the office.

Sara considered taking the shortest way back to her class, by going outside through the playground and back in the other door, in sight of the street the whole way. She rejected the idea, deciding the empty hallway, though much longer, had to be better. Before she took ten steps, though, all five boys appeared behind her, grinning, released from detention and sent back to their classroom beside hers.

Crying all the way, Sara followed the first long hallway, past every open classroom door on both sides, around two corners, and down the next long hallway with more open classroom doors. At last she reached the door to her own classroom. She stopped at the door, ashamed to enter, but since the boys were right behind her, and everyone in her class could hear her crying just outside the door anyway, she entered and quickly moved to her desk. While every boy in her class stared and snickered, she put on her dress, then her panties, and sat, her ordeal finally over.

A few seconds later, the classroom intercom crackled. A high voice began to speak. "Please pleeease just spannnk mee!" it begged. The boys in her class brightened, and turned their smiling faces to Sara even before the voice confirmed, "My name is Sara Jessica Carson. I'm in fourth grade. I- I'm ten years old. I want to get spanked."

"Turn it off!" Sara pleaded to the teacher. He only smiled. Besides, he couldn't turn it off if he wanted to.

"I didn't do what I was told to do," the voice admitted. "I'm going to get spanked because I didn't do what I was told to do."

"Stop it! Stop it!" Sara screamed in protest.

Of course it didn't stop. The intercom blared, "I want the boys to see my bare bottom while I'm getting spanked."

"No! No! Stop!" Sara cried. She pressed her thumbs into her ears and bent down, trying to hide her reddened face against her desk. It didn't help much, since she could hear the voice continue, and all the laughter of the boys in her class as it did.

"I want all you boys to see my bare bottom while I'm getting spanked. The boys can all see my baaare baaahhhddom and now I'm gonna get spaaannked." Besides the voice, the intercom carried just as clearly the sounds of hard wood smacking a girl's soft bare flesh, and the inevitable result each time. "Aaaauuuuwww! Aaawwwwh awwwwhh awwwh! AAaauuuiieee! TAAAUUUuuwwwh! Aaaww aawwwAAUUUWWWH!" Everyone in her classroom heard Sara wailing and shrieking on the intercom, and at the same time, her miserable sobbing in person, for twenty minutes.

The students in other classes at Bunnytail Elementary School missed out on seeing Sara's reaction, but all of them heard her on the intercom... every word... as she discovered at lunchtime.

She still hadn't noticed yet that some boy in her class had erased her answer on the board while she was away, and written his own to replace it:

After a girl has taken off all of her clothes, what is she?

spanked!!!