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

BR&T date: Friday, 16 February 1996

Mid-afternoon friday, the school bell rang. "Line up at the door," Mister Taylor commanded his fourth-grade class. "It's assembly time!"

All the boys in the class cheered and rushed to form a line at the classroom door. All the girls stood much more hesitantly, and much more somberly, and took their places behind the boys.

The new student in the class, Sara Carson, tried to imitate the other students as the safest course, once again having no idea what was going on. Thus, she stood at the end of the line, closest to the teacher she hated with a passion, who had been one of the primary reasons her first week at Bunnytail had been such a terrible experience for her.

"Now march!" the teacher called out. The students began moving out into the hallway, turned right, and made their way to the gymnasium like other classes at the school were doing. "Keep up!" he demanded when Sara fell behind.

The class entered the gymnasium through double doors, turning left at the third group of folding metal chairs, splitting up before filing down the three rows of chairs. Each boy took the first open seat he could, so everyone following had to walk past several seated students, and the girls ended up walking past every boy in their row before finally getting to sit. Sara heard numerous squeals of protest as the other girls ran the gauntlet, and soon discovered for herself the cause, as boy after boy after boy lifted her dress before she could get past him.

The girls, much more polite than the boys had been, or more likely out of selfish desire to get as far from the boys as possible, hurried to the end of the row before sitting, so Sara got stuck sitting next to a boy who had tried to yank her panties down while the boy before him held her dress up for him. She glared at him angrily, but she'd already learned how futile it would be to report him, so she just sat seething as she straightened out her panties through her dress.

Other classes filed into the gymnasium similarly, each taking their assigned seats, in two columns for the east and west wings of Bunnytail Elementary school, sixth-grade classes in the back through kindergarten classes at the very front of the seating. Before them all, the stage had been set up, transforming the gymnasium into a reasonably suitable auditorium or theater, as long as audience comfort meant nothing.

Sara tried to ignore the jerk beside her as she watched everything. All the other kids knew what was going on. They had clearly been there before. She noted with a sense of unease that the Spanking Frame had been set up on the stage, in the very center. Furthermore, it stood on a large low round table from one of the classrooms. She saw a row of six chairs behind it, and two more rows of seven chairs at an angle on either side, forming a semi-circle of chairs around the table with the Frame on it. She gritted her teeth in anger as the principal climbed the short stairs to the stage and tapped the microphone stand. How she hated him! More than she hated her classroom teacher, if possible.

The principal removed the microphone from the stand and called the assembly to order. "Alright, quiet down now." Six loudspeakers positioned around the room ensured that everyone heard him clearly. When the room quieted enough to suit him, he continued cheerfully, "Let's find out who the Good Citizens are this week!"

Sara wondered what he meant by Good Citizens. If it was some sort of honor, as it sounded like, she thought that she might get it some day, by being a good student like she had always been at her previous school. She pictured him calling her name, and herself walking up on stage to the sound of loud applause, beaming, to accept an award. The thought gave her something to hope for.

He pointed to the kindergarten teacher on the west side, who pointed and called out a name. A boy in that class stood and proudly walked up onto the stage, taking the first seat in the closest row of seven, first picking up some objects from it that Sara couldn't quite make out. The first-grade teacher called out a name, something like Hauffing, she thought, and a boy from that class jumped up and excitedly called out "Thanks, Mr. Mitchell!!" before rushing up to the stage. The rest of the teachers on that side followed in their turns, each sending one boy of their choice from their class up to sit in the west row of seven chairs. Sara noticed that every one of them so far were boys.

The calling of names continued with the sixth-grade teacher on the east. "Spruce!" he announced. The tallest boy in the class laughed loudly and stood.

Sara turned to see who had been called. "You're kidding me!" she gasped, as she recognised him and remembered what he had done to her in the boys bathroom thursday afternoon. Right in front of everyone watching them. Ashamed by the memory, she turned away, not wanting to see him proudly strut up to the stage, so she missed seeing him and the first-grader already on stage cheerfully congratulate each other.

A chorus of cheers arose from boys in both sixth grades, who all seemed to be Spruce's fans. The principal smiled, but finally waved them to silence. The next teacher called a name. "What!?" Sara exclaimed, when the next boy from the fifth-grade class stood. He was the same one who stuck his hands in her panties while sitting on the detention bench on monday and the ringleader of the five boys who had admitted an offense they would have been expelled for, at the very least, at her previous school. He couldn't be a Good Citizen! Sara felt outrage overwhelm her. He looked smug as he passed by her class, grinning at her, apparently glad that she was so mad about it.

Her teacher called out a name, "Jimmy Rezebo!" In shock, Sara watched the boy beside her stand to receive his honor. Not only had he tried to yank her panties down less than three minutes earlier, but he had been the one who spanked her first in music class on wednesday, and egged on the other boys in everything they did to her after that. He strutted past the rest of the boys, accepting their envious but friendly congratulations, and ran up onto the stage. Sara hid her face in her hands and leaned down. She didn't have to sit beside him any longer, at least, so she felt glad for that torment to end, but she didn't want to see any more. She was blinded by her outrage, but she couldn't escape hearing four more boys get called to the stage. She glanced up to see Ian, the boy who had held the gym door open for the rest of the boys to stare at her in the shower. She hid her face again, and put her fingers in her ears.

All the fourteen seats on the stage filled, in two rows of seven, Principal Winters spoke again. "I present your Good Citizens of the Week! Hurrah! And now a big round of applause!" He draped the microphone cord over his arm and began enthusiastically clapping. The crowd of students, in general, cheered and applauded ... with many exceptions until their teachers pointed warning fingers their way. Sara, with her head bent down, didn't see the warning. Unlike the other girls, Sara didn't even pretend to clap for the boys, until her teacher strode up behind her and rapped her head.

"Sit up and applaud," he demanded quietly but sternly, staying close behind her to see that she obeyed. "I better hear you from the end of the row, and that goes for the rest of you, too," he warned, then returned to his place by the aisle.

"Thanks a lot, Sara," a girl with lanky straight brown hair hissed at her and began actually clapping. "Really, thanks," a couple of other girls in her class echoed sarcastically. Even Kaiah turned and gave a disdainful look before turning back and applauding, her blond pig-tails swaying.

Sara didn't want any more trouble than she had already been in that week. She began clapping loudly, and even yelled "Hurray! Yay Jimmy!" a couple of times, feeling ashamed of cheering for boys she felt weren't good citizens at all, most especially that one from the sixth grade.

When the applause finally died down (much to Sara's relief), the principal raised the microphone and resumed, in a harsher voice. "Now for the second purpose of the assembly: giving extra punishment to those who have been especially... deserving this week." He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Georgia!" he called out, looking toward a first-grade class.

A very cute girl in a Brownie uniform slowly stood, her short golden curls peeking out in every direction from under her beanie. Some of the boys in her class cheered.

"Come on, get up here," the principal gestured impatiently. "Don't make us wait. And don't make me come get you."

Hanging her head, Georgia moved reluctantly to the center aisle as the girls in her class sympathetically made way for her without looking at her or speaking to her. She approached the stage, climbed the stairs, and sat in the first seat, staring at her knees, with five empty chairs in the row beside her.

"Kaitlyn!" the principal called, checking the paper in his hand.

A few girls responded "Oh! Not me!" and "No!!" and "I didn't do anything! Why me!?"

"Kaitlyn Verre, second grade west," he narrowed it down, chuckling about the panicked reaction on the part of Caitlin MacMurray and Katelyn Anderson in other grades.

One of the panicked girls repeated her protest, then fearfully gave up and stood. Several boys in her class started a teasing chant, "Kaitlyn Verre, has no fur, on her..." but she did her best to ignore them. Also in a Brownie uniform, with lovely wavy light brown hair past her shoulders, she climbed the stairs onto the stage and sat beside Georgia.

The principal consulted his list again. "Molly Taylor," he called. Another second-grader from the very same class, and also wearing a cute Brownie beanie, light blue blouse, vest covered in badges, and Brownie skirt, stood and sullenly made her way to the seat on the stage beside Kaitlyn. Her purple-rimmed oval glasses fogged up on the way, for some reason, but she didn't stop to wipe them off, which would have been futile in any case.

"Hannah!!!" the principal shouted out, smiling broadly. A loud enthusiastic cheer arose from boys all over the room, almost but not quite drowning out a wordless high-pitched shriek coming from a first-grade class. A teacher and two of her classmates picked up a slender angelic girl with long pearl-white hair, and literally dragged her by her ankles to the aisle, kicking and screaming all the way, as the cheering continued. Dozens of boys in the fifth and sixth grades stood to see the action better. The principal replaced the microphone in the stand and went to help. Together, he and the teacher pulled the squirming girl onto the stage and shoved her down into the fourth seat in the row. The principal handed the Brownie's beanie to her, that one of the boys in her class had picked up and brought to him. When she tried to hide her face with it, he yanked it out of her hands and dropped it loosely onto her head. She sat crying miserably, but she stayed in her place, hugging herself, her shoulders shaking. Gently, Molly tried to straighten Hannah's vest for her, until Hannah emphatically shrugged her away. The teacher returned to his class as the principal took up the microphone again.

"Nicole," the principal announced, pointing toward another Brownie, one of Georgia's classmates. "Now, now," he urged almost politely, when the girl in question sat frozen in disbelief, "just come on up, Nicole. There's a first time for everything." Her teacher lifted the girl to her feet and pulled her by the hand to the aisle, where the timid little girl stood hesitating briefly, then did as the others had done, at last sitting fearfully in the fifth seat of the center row, mutely looking out at the crowd of students and teachers, pretending she didn't hear her troopmate bawling right beside her.

An observer could have been forgiven for thinking that the sixth one to be declared 'deserving extra punishment' and called up to fill the last empty seat would be a first-grade or second-grade Brownie girl. Indeed, two such observers at the assembly trembled in terror, seeing that five out of the first five girls on the stage awaiting extra punishment wore Brownie vests with troop numbers matching theirs, and knowing that all the first-graders were already taken. Ellen hoped desperately that he would call Megan, while Megan silently begged him to name Ellen. They would even settle for Dolly or Anya, though those weren't as likely.

In a way, he disappointed them both. "Sara," the principal called. He let a third-grader, Sarah Klein, squirm awhile before clarifying, "Sara Jessica Carson, fourth grade east."

Sara Jessica Carson, in fourth grade, in the classroom on the east side of the school, knew who he meant even before he added the rest. She didn't deserve any of the punishment she had already suffered that week, let alone extra, but even if ten other Sarahs had wailed and stood, she would have still been sure he meant her. She refused to move. If she just sat there, maybe he'd realise her innocence and name someone else.

A hand roughly pulling her to her feet by her hair ended that plan. Her chair folded itself and banged to the floor. Looking behind her when the hand released her, she saw her teacher, backed up by four volunteers from the fifth-grade class: the same boys she had seen in detention on monday, minus their leader who had been named Good Citizen. They could drag her up to the stage, kicking and fighting all the way, regardless what she did. And if they did, they'd probably all be named Good Citizens for it, Sara thought bitterly.

"I'm going," she huffed, "so keep your hands off me!" Aware of the stares of everyone she passed, Sara quickly walked to the stage, climbed the stairs, and sat beside the last Brownie. She couldn't help noticing that those in her group, supposedly deserving extra punishment, were all girls. Still, she felt out of place, since the other five girls all wore Brownie uniforms. They must all be in the same troop, and have their meeting after school on fridays, or something, she figured.

"Take your pick," Principal Winters called to the boys in the other seats, with a wave. Most leapt to their feet with wide grins; only a few were slower.

A couple of older boys pulled six boxes from under the center table and put one in front of each girl. A kindergarten boy who had never been named Good Citizen before stood looking confused. A sixth-grader helpfully explained it to him. "Take the six tokens you got from your chair, and divide them up evenly, any way you want them," he said, "then put them in the box in front of whoever you want. Either one in each box, or two in three of the boxes, or three in two boxes, or all six in one box." The younger boy still looked bewildered. "If you aren't sure or it doesn't matter to you, just toss one in each box. That's what I did the first few times," the older boy advised, while dropping all of his tokens, each with a large "6E" on it, into the box in front of Sara. Other boys quickly divided up their tokens, or threw them all into one box.

Sara didn't know what was going on, but the other girls had seen it before, if only from a distance, and others of them had been on the stage before. They gave a little whimper each time a boy dropped a token into the box in front of them. Sara sat there baffled as several boys she didn't know walked by, laughed, and dropped all six of their tokens into the box in front of her. She didn't know what was so funny about it.

Hannah wailed as two boys grinned at her and dropped all six of their tokens into her box. Several of the others also dropped a few of their tokens into her box, even if they saved some for elsewhere. By the time the fourteen boys finished dividing up their tokens and returned to their seats, Hannah's soft sobbing had once again become unrestrained bawling. Georgia, in the first seat, looking at the box in front of her, also cried. Unlike all of the boys, none of the girls smiled.

The principal replaced the microphone on the stand. He tapped a button on the floor with his shoe as he passed it, turning on two microphones attached to the posts of the Spanking Frame on the table, both pointing to the center where a girl in the frame would stand.

Principal Winters walked along the row of boxes, looking at each, and smiling. He stopped. Gesturing toward the box at her feet, he declared, "You're first, Nicole." Meekly, she stood, picked up the box and counted the four tokens in it, and climbed up on the table with the Spanking Frame. "Stand under it," he commanded, then spoke to her in a low voice that only she could hear. She obeyed, facing a couple hundred students in the audience. He held the microphone up for her to speak to the school, quietly prompting her as needed.

Her voice straining and fearful, the trembling girl spoke, "My name is Nicole Miller. I'm seven years old. I'm in first grade. I was naughty. I kept bothering the science class. Now I'm going to be spanked four times by three different Good Citizens." Before she finished speaking, three boys had left their seats on the stage and formed a line beside the table.

One of the chores that the girls in her first-grade class did was to refill the goldfish bowl by getting water from the science room. When the chore had fallen to her this time, Nicole found a sixth-grade class in the science classroom. She had to enter anyway, to get the water. Furthermore, each time she went to get water and returned, the fishbowl was half empty again, so she couldn't ever fill it up. After her eighth interruption, the science teacher, being one of the six on the Bunnytail staff who decided who got extra punishment each week, had picked Nicole at the urging of boys in his class. Nicole had been a student at Bunnytail long enough to know how bad it was to get extra punishment at the assemblies, but she'd always thought the girls deserved it. Now that she was there, she started to think maybe they didn't.

The principal stepped back. As a previous Good Citizen, the first boy in line knew what to do. He stepped up close to Nicole. "Skirt," he said. Knowing what he meant from having seen other girls on the stage before, Nicole timidly pushed down her Brownie skirt until it dropped to her ankles. "Pull your panties down." He waited while she slid her panties down to her ankles. "Keep going," he continued, without explanation. Nicole bunched up her light blue Brownie blouse and stood holding it up at her neck with both hands, showing her pussy and titties to the whole school. He smiled at the girl obeying his orders, amused that she blushed in shame as she exposed herself on the stage before the whole school. "Feet out to the boards," the boy demanded. Nicole stepped out of her skirt and panties and spread her legs apart, knowing that everyone in the school could see her. She moved her legs wider until her feet touched both of the boards beside her. "Hands on the boards, as high as you can reach!" If her blouse dropped back down, she knew from a few times in the principal's office, she'd get spanked for it, so she took off her blouse, even having to take off her Brownie vest with it, knocking her beanie off as she did. She stretched her arms out to the boards beside her and held them with her hands.

The little Brownie stood in the Spanking Frame wearing only her shoes and socks, facing everyone in the whole school except the Good Citizens and a few girls behind her. Her Brownie uniform lay on the table beside her, doing her no good. She stood waiting, trembling, staring at the table, anticipating the worst part, that she had only seen from a distance before.

Anticipating the best part, the grinning boy accepted a narrow plastic rod from the principal, drew his arm back, and suddenly swung it, smacking across the first-grader's tender bare bottom. She shrieked, but she didn't move (much). While she was still shrieking, he smacked her again, harder, making her shriek even louder. He passed the rod to the next boy in line, who swatted her once and quickly gave the rod to the last boy in line, who swatted her and returned the rod to the principal.

Nicole got down from the table, crying quietly. Leaving her skirt, blouse, and panties where they were, she returned to her seat, unconsciously sitting closer to Sara to avoid Hannah. She sat there ashamed, knowing everyone in the whole school had seen her standing in only her socks and shoes, watched her get spanked, and heard her cry out from each of the four swats. Dozens of people must have seen her that way. Maybe more. And now she had to sit there almost naked through the rest of it.

"You're Nicole, right?" Sara asked of the sniffling girl beside her. Nicole barely nodded. "I'm Sara." Nicole nodded again, but said nothing. "Are they going to do that to all of us?" Sara asked, both astonished and upset. "Spank us four times that way? Right in front of everyone?"

Nicole whispered to her without turning her head, "No. Haven't you seen this before?? Well now you'll see. And don't talk!"

"Why-"

At that moment, the principal rapped Sara's head with his knuckles on his way by. "Come to my office first thing monday," he said.

"See?" Nicole whispered so softly that no one heard her.

The principal checked the boxes of tokens in front of the remaining girls. "You," he told Molly. When she stood within the Spanking Frame, facing the school, he held out the microphone for her.

The loudspeakers in the gym ensured everyone heard her say "My name is Molly Taylor. I'm seven years old. I'm in second grade. I deserve extra punishment. I didn't do what I was told in drama class, so I'm going to be spanked four times by three different Good Citizens."

Just by coincidence, Molly had the same distribution of tokens as Nicole had. Two of them were the same, of course, since they'd put one token in each of the six boxes, but she knew the smirking boy at the front of the line very well, since he sat in the desk just behind hers in class. He had stood behind her during the play in drama class. He was supposed to act like a tree and just stand there, but instead he'd grabbed her arms and held her facing everyone in the lunchoom, keeping her from being able to cover her naked body from their stares. She got in trouble for not giving her lines, and the drama teacher never said a word to him. Now he stood behind her again, as the Good Citizen from her class, first in line to spank her on the stage, smugly giving orders to the fearful submissive girl. He made Molly get into position, her Brownie vest and skirt, blouse, and panties on the floor beside the table, her arms and legs wide to the frame, facing the whole school. She was a little more careful than Nicole, and kept her Brownie beanie on her head, but it made little difference except to undeniably identify the cutie as a Brownie as she stood almost naked from her ankles up.

"You're going to get it now!" the boy cheerfully whispered to her, as he'd done in class on more than one occasion, being right every time. Happy to be the one giving it to her, he took the rod from the principal and whipped it sharply against her tender buns, eliciting a shriek of agony.

Before Molly's first wail trailed off, the principal interrupted. "Stop!" he called. Molly turned to him, surprised, but hoping he'd decided to spare her. He reached out and pulled her cute purple glasses off her face. "You better remember these next time," he warned, then he dropped them on her other clothes and stepped back again. Now she was naked from her ankles to her forehead. "Start over," he instructed the boy.

"You're going to get it now!" the boy cheerfully whispered to her, again, even happier since the first swat hadn't counted, giving him three fun swats on her despite having only spent two of his tokens. He let her squirm with dread a few seconds, then swung, trying to hit the same stripe he'd just made, and getting fairly close. His third swat reddened the narrow gap between the first two, rewarding him with an awesome wail of anguish. As he passed the rod, he whispered to the next boys in line "A nickel if you can hit her where she's already hurting!" He only had to pay once, but he laughed as he did so.

Crying loudly, Molly climbed down from the table, leaving her clothes where they were, and meekly returned to her seat between Kaitlyn and Hannah.