Mrs. Kim's car pulled into the driveway of the nondescript little complex. She hopped out and shouted for Cynthia to follow her immediately.

Cynthia's mother was very angry with her. She knew that. And she knew talking back to her today had been a serious mistake. Just how serious, she was about to find out. Mrs. Kim grabbed her recalcitrant 11-year-old's arm, and hustled her into the building. The sign on the door read "Central City Corporal Punishment Office." Everyone called it "the spanker's."

They walked in, Mrs. Kim marching, Cynthia dawdling, her mom pulling on her wrist to hustle her along. The door opened into a small waiting room, with a reception desk in the front.

The grey-haired woman at the desk looked up as they came in. "Can I help you?" she asked, sounding a little bored. "I've brought my daughter here for discipline. I've tried everything and she won't obey me - "

"That's fine," said the receptionist, picking up a clipboard with some forms attached and a pen, "is this your first time here?"

"Yes it is."

"Okay, just fill these out for me and have a seat."

They sat down in the waiting room. Cynthia looked around. There were three other mothers there. A woman with a brown-haired boy about Cynthia's age, another had two small girls, one about three and one about five, and another with a little blonde girl who was probably only a year or two younger than Cynthia. All the children were quiet and sad or scared-looking. All the mothers looked angry.

Cynthia looked down at the form her mother was filling out. Her mother's name, her name, address, phone number, e-mail... then there were boxes to check ... has your child ever been taken to a Corporal Punishment Office before? (no) When and where? Has your child ever received a spanking at home? (no) Then a large blank field, whose caption read "please explain in detail your reasons for bringing your child here today, and another which asked "what other methods of discipline have you tried?" Cynthia watched her mother scribble angrily away in the first field, finally noting "yelling, scolding, grounding" in the next. She signed her name, then turned to the next page, read it over carefully, signed it and then handed everything to Cynthia. "Here. Give these to her."

Cynthia got up and began to walk back to the receptionist. She walked slowly, taking time to glance at the second page. "By signing this form you are consenting to have your child receive a State-approved corporal punishment administered by a certified disciplinarian... some things you should know before you agree:" When Cynthia saw this part, she froze:

- Spankings are administered on the bare bottom. Your child will be completely disrobed during the procedure.

- Spankings are both painful and humiliating. Your child will probably cry loudly, fight, beg you or the disciplinarian to stop the proceedings and try to make deals with you or the disciplinarian. For the best results of this form of discipline, we ask that you refrain from interfering, and allow the discipline to be completed.

- The spanking will produce a temporary reddening of the skin of your child's buttocks. The skin will also be hot and sore to the touch. These symptoms are not in any way dangerous and will fade in a short time. Spankings are painful but in no way damaging.

- After the spanking, your child may find it uncomfortable to sit, as the bottom will be sore. They may feel some residual discomfort in the form of aching, and the skin may itch. Apply anti-itch cream if needed. Do not use heating ointments of any kind.

Cynthia was standing there dumbstruck at what she was reading. An "ahem!" and her mother's command: "Cynthia - give her the papers like I told you! You're in enough trouble already!" shocked her back into the moment. Hands almost trembling, she handed the papers to the receptionist.

"There's a big binder there on the table next to the door. I'd like you to go look through it." She said, taking the papers from the nervous girl.

Cynthia crept past the silent mothers and restless children. Next to the door that apparently led to the offices in back was a small table, and on it sat a thick white binder. Cynthia reached down and gingerly picked the heavy book up as the door suddenly opened. As it opened, she could hear the muffled sound a child crying loudly inside, and a slapping sound, over and over.

A man with a clipboard in his hand stepped into the room. "Mrs. Miner?" he read. The woman with the two small girls stood up and began to hustle them through the door. The door closed behind them and the sounds disappeared. Taking the book, Cynthia walked back to where her mother was sitting and sat down next to her.

She was just about to open it when the door opened again, this time letting a loud crying into the room. A mother was leading her sobbing son out into the waiting room. The boy was bawling at the top of his lungs, his face red and wizened under his blonde bangs. As his mother led him out of the building, Cynthia's stomach lurched as she realized it was one of her classmates, Nicky Covington.

Breathing deeply, she opened the binder.

It was a photo album. Rows of photographs, grouped in fours. The first picture was of a frightened looking little boy. The next was a close-up of the bare bottom of, she assumed, the same little boy. The next picture was almost identical, except this time the bottom was covered in a deep red blotch. And last a picture of the same boy, his face wet with tears and grimacing with crying. The whole book was filled with similar pictures; before and after, children's spankings, frightened faces and crying ones, naked white bottoms and sore red ones.

Cynthia stared at the pictures, her heart in her mouth. The door swung open again, and this time it was the short-haired blonde boy who was called, by a different man. Minutes later, another mother and her crying child emerged from their session. At least this little girl was trying to remain composed. Cynthia looked at the clock; it said 4:22. Cynthia stared at her feet and shivered.

What was she getting into? Cynthia's bottom had never felt a punitive blow in all of her eleven years. She knew what a spanking was, but she couldn't even quite imagine what it was like to experience one. The door opened again. This time it was a woman who called. It was the little blonde girl who went this time. Cynthia stared as they went in. The little blonde girl made eye contact with Cynthia, glaring at her as if she resented Cynthia's nervous gaze. It was 4:28.

Another parent and crying child left. Cynthia looked around the room, and it suddenly dawned on her that there was no one left but her and her mom. Her eyes grew wide, she trembled, and butterflies massed in her stomach as she realized that the next time that door opened, it would be for her. She couldn't even quite imagine what it was like to experience a spanking, but based on what she was seeing, it must be pretty bad. Any minute now, that door would open, and she would get to find out first hand, for herself. Sitting there in the room, silent except for the ticking of the clock, the receptionist shuffling papers, and her mother turning pages in a magazine, she was suddenly more afraid than she had ever been in her life!

"Mom!" Cynthia stammered, "I'm sorry I was a brat today --- could we -couldn't we go home? Please??"

Mrs. Kim didn't even look up from her magazine. "You had your chance. Now you're just going to have to take your punishment."

"But Mom--!"

She didn't get to finish. The clock clicked to 4:30, the door opened, and a tall man in a blue shirt, bald head and beard opened the door and said "Mrs. Kim?"

She was up. It was her turn. Mrs. Kim stood and grabbed her wrist. "Come on." She said. "Your turn." A reluctant Cynthia stood up and her mother pulled her along as they followed the man through the dreaded door and down the hall. Cynthia felt something like awe. Something momentous was about to happen. A major event in her life. Whatever happened next, she would never be the same.

They went down the short hallway. Two doors on each side of the wall. It was strangely quiet. Cynthia could hear only muffled voices. The man opened the last door on the right and motioned them inside.

It was a small office. The floor was carpeted in thick, blue shag. A big, armless chair dominated the room. Facing it were two smaller chairs. There was a desk in the corner with four big file drawers. A folding screen hid one corner. The man gestured and Mrs. Kim and Cynthia sat down. The man sat in the big armless chair. Cynthia noticed that there was a full-length mirror mounted on the inside of the door.

Cynthia noticed that over the desk there was a painting. It was of an angry-looking woman with a squirming toddler over knee. She had a hairbrush in one hand and a book in the other. A broken clock lay at her feet. Was she going to spank that kid with the hairbrush? Ouch!

"So it says here that Cynthia has been deliberately disobeying you and smartmouthing you, is that right?" the man asked her mom.

"That's right. I have told her again and again she can play at her friends' houses as long as she has my permission first. And instead she just comes home any time she pleases, doesn't even call me, much less ask permission before. All I ask is that she asks me, like in the morning before school, or the day before. Is that so unreasonable?"

"Not at all. And you've punished her before for this?"

"Yes! I've yelled at her and scolded her, and last time I grounded her for it, and she told me I was being unfair! She thinks I'm being cruel and mean ! Today she did it again - came home late, no call, no word - she says she stopped at her friend Melissa's house. I got angry and scolded her and she says I'm unreasonable and none of the other mothers are as strict as me!"

Cynthia winced at the reminder. That had been a mistake.

"And then I said it was too bad she had such a terrible mother, and she said yes it was!"

Cynthia winced again. That had been an even bigger mistake.

"I told her she was grounded, and she said 'you can't do this to me!'" Cynthia winced yet again. That had been the biggest mistake.

"That's when I decided to bring her here. She won't respect my rules, my authority, or me, and other punishments aren't working."

"I understand Mrs. Kim. That's why 99% of our parents come here -because nothing else is working."

"It's time she had some old-fashioned discipline."

"You did the right thing."

"Now you understand how we work here, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay, there's some hangers behind that screen; I'd like you to take Cynthia back there and get her completely undressed if you would please."

"Certainly." Mrs. Kim got up. "Come on Cynthia."

Cynthia stood up reluctantly and followed her behind the screen. There was a cubby with hooks and hangers. Mrs. Kim knelt down and began to untie Cynthia's sneakers.

Cynthia was not at all comfortable about being nude in front of strangers. "Mom," she asked, "do I have to take everything off?" "Yes, everything." Her mom replied. "Lift your feet!" she ordered, pulling off Cynthia's sneakers. "Couldn't we just do it with my clothes on?" Cynthia asked as Mrs. Kim grabbed her sweater and began to pull it off over Cynthia's head. "No. Everything off." She began to unbutton Cynthia's jeans and push them down to her ankles. "Step out." She said. Cynthia lifted her feet out of the jeans. She knew there wasn't much point in resisting. Her mom took her puppy-print T-shirt and began to pull it off. "Mom, couldn't I just keep my socks on?" Cynthia always felt a little naked when she was barefoot. If she could hang on to her socks, she might feel just a little bit better. "No!" said her mother. "Undress completely - that means you take off all your clothes!" She grabbed a skinny ankle and pulled off one sock, then the other. Then came the moment of truth, as Mrs. Kim grabbed the waistband of her daughter's flower-print panties and yanked them to the floor. "Step out." She ordered. Cynthia lifted her feet out and stood, naked as the day she was born, as her mom folded her clothes neatly and lay them in the cubbyhole. It was over. Mama had taken her last little shred of dignity from her. Mrs. Kim took her by the shoulders and guided her back into the room. Cynthia clapped her hands in front of her crotch to protect whatever little bit of privacy she might have left.

The man was holding a camera. "Look here Cynthia." He said. She looked at the camera as he snapped her picture.

"Now turn around please."

Cynthia turned. She took a deep breath as she heard the camera click again. She knew what was happening. He was taking her picture for the book! Her face and her bare butt would be there in that book! If any kids from school ever came here, they'd be able to see a picture of her bare butt! And there would be a picture of her face next to it, so everyone would know it was hers! This was the most humiliating thing she'd ever experienced in her life.

"Have a seat Mrs. Kim." Said the man. "Cynthia come over here."

Cynthia padded across the carpet and stood in front of the man as her mom sat. The man looked her in the eye. He reached over and took Cynthia's hands, then lifted them and placed them on her head. "Keep your hands there till I say you can move them." He said. So now he could see everything. Even that had been taken from her.

He looked her in the eye again.

"Cynthia, do you know why you're here?"

"Yes." She whispered. Ashamed to look at him, she stared down at her bare feet.

"Why. Tell me."

"Because - because I broke the rules, and I .. smarted off to my mom."

"You didn't just break the rules, did you? You broke the rules a bunch of times. You completely ignored the rules, didn't you?"

"...uh-huh.." Cynthia muttered. The blue, deep shag carpet felt good under the soles of her feet.

"I didn't hear you Cynthia."

"Yes." She said. She hated it when adults acted like this ... of course he'd heard her.

"Yes what?"

"Yes - I, I ignored the rules, a bunch of times."

"That's called being willfully disobedient. And when your mother punished you for it, you gave her attitude, didn't you?"

"Yes."

She curled her toes into the carpet. It felt warm and soft. "Cynthia, look at me."

She lifted her gaze to meet his.

"Your mother has a right to make any rules she wants, do you understand that?"

"Yes."

"And you have to obey them, whether you like it or not. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"I can tell by your tone that you don't really agree with that. Right?"

Cynthia didn't know how to answer that one. Mom's rules were dumb! And it wasn't fair!

"Well, I can tell you every kid in the world thinks they should be able to do exactly what they want. With no rules. But you kids just aren't as smart as you think you are. You'll just have to take my word for that. Someday you'll understand that. In the meantime you have to understand this: grown-ups make the rules, and kids follow them. Understand?"

"Yes."

This was mortifying. Here she was standing bare naked between them. Her mother staring at her bare butt while this man gave her a boring lecture.

"And when you don't follow them, when you deliberately disobey them, you kids have to be punished. Cause if you won't obey them because you're supposed to, you'll do it because you don't want to be punished. And if one punishment isn't enough, we have to use a more severe punishment."

Cynthia's gaze wandered to her feet again, then back to him. "And when you deliberately disobey the rules, when you act like they don't even exist, and then you argue with your mother about them, you're not just being a kid. You're being spoiled and selfish and ungrateful. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"And when you talk back to your mother, you're also being snotty and a brat. And when children are snotty and act like brats, they need to be punished so they can learn to behave properly. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"So, once again, why are you being punished?"

"Because ... because I deliberately disobeyed the rules..."

"Repeatedly!"

"...repeatedly, and I smarted off at my mom and I acted snotty and like a brat."

"That's right."

Cynthia was getting restless. Her fear was simultaneously growing and mixing with annoyance. She almost wished he'd get on with it.

"Now you know why you're being punished, do you know why it's going to be this kind of punishment?"

"Because ... mom tried other stuff..."

"And it didn't work, did it? You still broke the rules, right?"

"Yes."

"So we have to use a more severe punishment. Right?"

"Yes."

"You don't like being grounded, do you?"

"No."

"But you're not scared of being grounded, are you?"

"Mmmm---no."

"You've never gotten a spanking before, have you?"

"No."

"Cynthia," he said, "I want you to repeat after me. 'I, Cynthia.'"

"I, Cynthia," she repeated.

"...am being punished because I have been willfully disobedient..."
"...am being punished because I have been willfully disobedient..."
"...and because I have been disrespectful to my mother..."
"...and because I have been disrespectful to my mother..."
"...and I acted like a spoiled, snotty little brat..."
"...and I acted like a spoiled, snotty little brat..."
"...and I deserve a good, sound spanking."
"...and I deserve a good, sound spanking."

How mortifying to have to stand here and recite this junk. But Cynthia knew there was no getting out of it.

"Once again."

"I, Cynthia ... am being punished ... because I have ... been ... willfully disobedient... and ... because I have been ... disrespectful to my mother... and I acted like ... like a spoiled, snotty little brat... and I ... deserve a ... good, sound spanking."

"Again."

"I, Cynthia am being punished because ... I have been ... willfully disobedient... and because I have ... been disrespectful to my mother... and I acted like a spoiled, snotty little brat... and I deserve a good, sound spanking."

By now she had it practically memorized.

"Now turn around and look at your mom."

Cynthia turned and faced her mother, who was sitting calmly with her arms folded.

"I, Cynthia am being punished ... because I have been willfully disobedient... and because I have been disrespectful to my mother... and I acted like a spoiled, snotty little brat... and I deserve a good, sound spanking."

Cynthia felt particularly foolish, standing there naked, being made to recite this crazy confession to her mother. Mom didn't even blink. Cynthia felt so embarrassed she wanted to die.

"Turn back to me."

Cynthia turned to face him.

"You see the mirror over there?"

"Yes."

Cynthia could see her mother's reflection, but not her own thankfully.

"Go and stand in front of it."

Cynthia padded over to the mirror and stood in front of it. She could see herself from head to bare toes. Seeing herself like that only made her more aware of her nakedness, and more self-conscious. She didn't like looking at herself naked. She looked especially ridiculous with her hands on her head like that. And there were the grown-ups, staring at her bare butt.

"Look directly into your face, and keep your eyes open. Now say it again.?"

"I, Cynthia am being punished because ... I have been ... willfully disobedient... and because I have ... been disrespectful to my mother... and I acted like a spoiled, snotty little brat... and I deserve a good, sound spanking."

That was hard to do - harder than she thought. She felt even more embarrassed saying these words to her own reflection than she did to her mom.

"Now come back over here."

Cynthia padded back over and assumed the position.

"Say it one more time."

"I, Cynthia am being punished because I have been willfully disobedient, and because I have been disrespectful to my mother and I acted like a spoiled, snotty little brat, and I deserve a good, sound spanking." By now she really did have it memorized.

The man paused. Then he said "okay Cynthia," he took her by the shoulders and guided her over to his right side. "I want you to lie down across my lap." He patted his knee invitingly. Cynthia felt an enormous surge of terror as she leaned forward and laid herself down across his lap.

He shifted her body around, positioning her on his knees for perfect striking. Cynthia grimaced. She could feel the fabric of his slacks against her bare skin. She was suspended above the floor; her arms hung down in front, her fingers brushing the man's ankles. From her vantage point the room was upside down, viewed through a frame made by the chair's legs, centering on her bare feet, her bare toes, dangling from the opposite side of the chair. She glanced at her mom, could see only her legs, crossed as she relaxed in her chair. She wondered how it must look from where he was, staring down at her bare little bottom, lying in wait for his imminent assault.

"Now Cynthia, if you fight me, I'll have to spank you longer and harder. So cooperate, understand?"

"Yes." She said.

She felt him move. It was coming, any second now, she would feel it -

SMACK!

The first slap; the first slap of the very first spanking Cynthia had ever received. What a momentous moment! The man knew it; he knew exactly how important it was. He made the slap count. Cynthia jumped and yelped "OW!" loudly, mostly in surprise, as the palm of his hand landed hard on her bottom, at the astonishingly loud report of his hand on her bare skin. It stung, sure. But Cynthia thought to herself "I can handle this ---"

Actually, the thought was more like "I can-" because rapidly another slap landed hard, producing another jump and another yelp.

SMACK! (ow!)
SMACK!! (Ow!)
SMACK!!! (OW!)

He wasn't spanking any harder, but the thing was, each slap seemed to hurt more than the last one did!

SMACK!!

(Okay, okay, it was hurting for real now, but she could take it!) Something different SMACK!! This time (OW!!) only her left cheek.

SMACK!! (OW!!) Only the left cheek again
SMACK!! SMACK!! Across both cheeks (OW! OWW!! Oh that really hurt!)
SMACK!! On the right cheek (OW!)
SMACK!! Both cheeks (OW! Oh, this was getting bad!)
SMACK!! (OW!) on the right cheek
SMACK!! (OWW!!) on the left cheek
SMACK!!SMACK!! twice on the right (OWW! OWW!! Oh this was really hurting)

Cynthia was hanging tough. A tone of anguish was appearing in her yelps, and she was squirming involuntarily and bucking as each slap landed. He kept switching cheeks: left! Left! Both! both! (OW! Oh it was bad when he doubled up!) right! both! Right! left! right! Right!! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! OW! OW! OW!!! It hurt - it hurt a lot! It was like a constant, unremitting stinging in her bottom, interrupted by sudden, even sharper stings! But she could handle it, she could handle it (OW!!!) she knew she could.

SMACK!! (OW!!) another surprise: he'd been with slapping the same strength each time. But now he was slapping lighter - not as hard, though it still hurt. Ow! Ow! Ow! Maybe he was getting tired... she hoped. SMACK!! OW! No that was hard SMACK!!! OW!! Harder! SMACK!! OWW!!! That was the hardest yet - bringing her heels up in the air as her eyes bulged and her yelp became a shout. That had been a surprise, and it had really hurt!

SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!

All hard. Left, right, right. This was really getting bad. The stinging was turning to a burning, as if her butt was on a stove burner, with peaks of heat each time he spanked. And, unbelievably, each slap still managed to hurt worse than the last!

OW!! Oh no, OW!! Oh this was getting really, really bad OW!! She hoped it would be over soon,oh OW!! He was moving around switching cheeks, changing how hard he spanked, and now moving around on her bottom; he'd been just slapping on the lower part of her buttocks, the part she sat down on; now he was randomly aiming up along the sides of her crease, then along it, but always on the fleshy buttock. OW! OWW!! She never knew where he'd strike next, or how hard, but she knew it would hurt...bad!

It was catching up with her. She could take it, but not much longer. This was really hurting and she could feel a sense of panic rising in her as the blazing slaps continued.

Finally, she snapped. Kicking her heels and clutching with her little fists, she shouted "STOP!! STOP!!!"

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! His only response was a hard slap across both cheeks - then the right, then the left, bringing a gasping shout from her each time.

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!

"OWW!! OWW!! STOP!! OW!! PLEASE STOP!!"

He showed no signs of stopping.

"OW!! OWW!!!" Cynthia twisted her head to look at her mother, who was sitting casually in her chair, legs crossed, arms folded, a look of satisfaction and approval on her face.

"OW!!OW!!OWW!!! OW MOM MAKE HIM STOP!!" Cynthia was beginning to really squirm and kick her heels now. "OWW!!! MAKE HIM STOP PLEEASE!!"

Mrs. Kim just shook her head. "You've had this coming, Cynthia."

Appeals weren't going to work, and Cynthia was really panicking now. Unbelievably, each spank still managed to hurt more than the last, and it had been hurting plenty about fifty slaps ago! It was time for action. Yelling OW! OWW!!! Loudly with each spank, Cynthia began to squirm like a worm on hook, thrashing her body, flailing her arms and kicking her bare feet wildly in the air, bucking and throwing her head back and squealing.

Which did no good. He held her tight on his lap. SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! Five straight, extra-hard spanks, across both cheeks, right on her sitting spot, the sorest place on her bottom. Cynthia let out a yowl of pain, humiliation and anger.

SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!

Cynthia wasn't giving up. A flash in her mind. As she felt him ready for another slap, she swept her right arm back, her hand fingers spread wide to cover her bottom and block the slap.

The man calmly took hold of her skinny arm in his left hand and pulled it away, securing it against her back and away from her bottom.

SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!

"NO!! NO-HO!!" Cynthia wailed in frustration and pain as the spanks landed forcefully.

SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!

This was a stubborn little girl, the man noted. It was going to take some extreme measures to break her down.

SMACK!!
SMACK!!

He stopped! Cynthia gasped in relief. This had been a lot worse than she'd expected. But she'd managed to take it pretty well, she thought.

The man lifted her and set her on her feet. Before her hands could go to her bottom, he took hold of them and placed them on her head again.

"Keep your hands right there." He ordered.

He looked into the girl's face. She was breathing hard, clearly hurting, frightened, but right now he saw mostly relief that he had stopped spanking her.

"You've got a lot of self-control, Cynthia. A lot of kids would be crying their eyes out by now."

Not knowing what to say, Cynthia just nodded.

"Come with me."

The man stood up, taking Cynthia by the elbow and leading her over to the desk. Mrs. Kim could see her daughter's bottom was turning a rosy pink from the spanking.

The desktop was pretty empty except for a few papers, the forms her mom had filled out, some pens and big heavy wooden ruler. The man walked Cynthia right up to the desk.

"Pick up that ruler." He said.

Cynthia picked it up. It was longer than normal, 16 inches. And made of sturdy wood, more than a quarter of an inch thick. "Hand it to me." He said.

Cynthia handed over the object.

"Bend over the desk."

Cynthia put her hands out and bent over the desk, placing her cheek against the cool wood.

"How old are you, Cynthia?"

"Eleven." Hadn't he read the form? It was right there.

"This is the very first spanking you've ever had, is that right Cynthia?"

"Yes." She could hear the quaver in her own voice.

"You know what a birthday spanking is?"

"Yes."

"So you've never had one, have you?"

"No."

"Well, we've got some catching up to do."

Cynthia felt his hand on her upper back, below her neck, holding her firmly.

"Now Cynthia, every time you feel the ruler, I want you to count for me, understand?"

"Yes." Oh no! He was going to spank her with that ruler! Oh this was gonna be bad!

SPAT!! The ruler made a new, light hard sound. Cynthia flinched as it struck her.

"AHH!- ONE!!" she remembered to count.

SPAT!!

"TWO!!" the ruler was a sharp, cutting pain, different from his hand, and worse on an already warmed bottom.

SPAT!!

"OW!! THREE!!" he kept hitting the same area, her sitting spot again. This ruler had taken the pain to a new level.

SPAT!!

"FOUR!!" Cynthia came up on her toes.

SPAT!!

"OW-HOWW!! FIVE!!" Five! Only half way there!

SPAT!!

"SIX!! OW!! OW!"

SPAT!!

"SEVEN!!" oh god ... if she could just hang on...

SPAT!!

"EIGHT!!" oh it hurt ... it hurt so much!

SPAT!!

"NINE!!" Cynthia was close to crying now. But she clutched the desk and held on...

SPAT!!

"TEN!!" bad, it was really bad, but she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of tears. No way!

SPAT!!

"ELEVEN!!" gasp. It was over. Cynthia heaved another sigh. She could go home soon.

SPAT!!

"AH!!" Cynthia shouted.

"One to grow on." He said. The ruler was replaced on the desk.

"Stand up." He said, placing her hands back on her head as she did so.

"Come on." He guided her back to the chair and sat down.

"Okay," he said, patting his lap again, "over."

Cynthia gaped at him. He wasn't finished??

"More?" she whined. The man noted the quaver of fear in her voice, the glint of tears coming to her eyes.

"We're not done yet. Come on."

Her heart in her mouth, Cynthia climbed over his lap again.

SMACK!!

The hand came down hard, even worse on Cynthia's newly ruler-tenderized bottom.

SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!

OW!!OW!!OWW!!! It was getting still worse. Cynthia could feel a lump in her chest that she knew meant crying. Tears were already welling in her eyes. She wasn't going to put on a big show of bawling. No, no she wouldn't give them the satisfaction. She was not going to be led out of here today bawling like a baby. No way. No way!!

SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!

"OW!! OWW!!! OWW!!!" she wailed, "STOP PLEASE STO-HOP!!" Tears were starting to spill over her eyelids and as she yelled "STOP I WON'T DO IT AGAIN I WON'T DO IT AGAINNNNN!" her shout turned into loud, braying sob.

SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!

The spanking went on as Cynthia thrashed squirmed and sobbed. She was crying in earnest now, tears streaming down her face, which was almost as red as her bottom.

SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!

"PLEEASE!! PLEASE I'M SORRY!! I'M SORRY I WON'T DO IT AGAIN I WON'T DO IT AGAINNNNN!!!"

SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!

"OW!!!!! OH PLEASE PLEASE I WON'T DO IT AGAIN I PROMISE I PROMISE!!"

SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!

"AAAHOOOWW!! PLEASE I PROMISE I'LL BE GOOD I'LL BE GOOD I PROMISE!!!"

SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!

"I'LL BE GOOD I'LL BE GOOD I PROMISE I PROMISE!!!"

SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!

Five of the hardest spanks he'd given yet, all on her sitting spot, burning Cynthia's bottom like a hot iron. She howled with anguish.

Cynthia was still squirming and howling when she suddenly realized that something different was happening. He wasn't spanking her anymore.

Gently, the man lifted her onto her feet, holding on to the sobbing child's arm while she got her balance. He took hold of her other wrist, guided her in front of him, and lifted her hands to her head. "Keep them right there," he said firmly, "no rubbing your bottom!"

There was nothing Cynthia wanted to do more in this world than rub her bottom, which felt like it was on fire. Dignity was no longer a concern. It was still burning like mad. Cynthia couldn't believe how much the spanking had hurt. She stood there, hands on her head, facing him; gasping, tears streaming down her face, sniffling.

"Cynthia, you see that desk behind me?"

"Yes.."

"I want you to walk over to that desk and open the top drawer on the right. And don't touch your bottom, understand?"

"Yes-yes" gulped the girl.

Cynthia gingerly padded over to the desk. Mrs. Kim watched with some amusement at her daughter's careful walk. Cynthia's bottom was plenty sore.

Cynthia slid the top right drawer open. It was empty except for one thing.

It was a wooden paddle, shaped like an old-fashioned hairbrush, more than a foot long from end-to-end, maybe four inches wide and half an inch thick. And there were seven neat little holes in the face. "What do you see in there, Cynthia?"

"A-a paddle, I guess."

"Pick it up and bring it over here."

Trembling with fear, Cynthia picked up the paddle. He wasn't going to use it on her, was he? Please god no...

He took the paddle from her, and placed her hands on her head again. He picked the paddle up from his lap and held it in his hands.

"Sometimes, Cynthia, we have to be even more severe."

He clapped the paddle against the palm of his hand. Cynthia winced. "How do you think the paddle feels on a bare bottom?"

"It - it hurts..."

"It hurts a lot. The holes make it sting even more."

Cynthia gulped. Her tears were dry now, but she was still snuffling and shaking with fear.

He set the paddle down next to his left foot, then took Cynthia's hands and guided her over to his right side again. Then he began to gently but firmly pull her across his lap.

"NO!! NO NO PLEASE!!" Cynthia howled as she slumped forward on his lap.

"I told you if you fought me there'd be more spanking." He admonished, "you shouldn't have put your hand back there and kicked so much."

"NO!! NO PLEASE PLEASE!!" Cynthia yelled. She was now in a state of total panic. She felt him shift, let out a yowl of anticipation; for a second she heard the whistling of the air through the holes, an then felt the hardest, most agonizing spank ever strike her already blazing butt, once again right at the sit-spot. Cynthia screamed in anguish.

WHAP!! The paddle made an awful, woody reverberation as it struck. WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!! He struck again and again as the girl shrieked. WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!!

"Alright now ," he said, "I'm going to ask you some questions. And if you answer them correctly, I'm going to give you one spank with the paddle."

He patted her bottom lightly with the paddle, which was still enough to bring a yowl of terror from the child.

"But if you answer incorrectly, it's going to be three spanks."

Another pat, another shout of anguish "And if you answer incorrectly twice, its going to be five spanks. Do you understand?"

"Y-y-yess..."

"Alright, now , why are you getting spanked?"

"Because I was bad!!"

WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!!

"AAAHOWWWWWW OWWWW OWWWWWWW!!!"

"Why are you getting spanked?"

"B-b-because I w-was w-w-willfully dis-dis-obedient!!" WHAP!! (OWW!!!)

"Good. And why else?"

"Because-because I was-I was d-disrespectful to my m-mom!!" WHAP!! (OWW!!!)

"And is there anything else?"

"B-because I-I w-was s-snotty and selfish and spoiled and a-a b-brat!!"

WHAP!! (AAH-OWW!!!)

"And what happens to snotty selfish spoiled little girls who are willfully disobedient and disrespectful?"

"They g-get p-punished!!"

WHAP!! (OWW!!!)

"And how do they get punished?"

"They g-get s-pa-anked!!"

WHAP!! (OWW!!!OWW!!!)

"And how do they get spanked?"

"Hard!! Sound! SOUND!!"

WHAP!! OWW!!!

"And where do they get spanked?"

"At the -at the spanker's office!!"

"No!"

WHAP!!
WHAP!!
WHAP!!

"Where do they get spanked?"

Cynthia struggled for an answer.

"Where do they get spanked, Cynthia?"

WHAP!!

"OWW!!! On the bottom!!"

WHAP!! WHAP!!

"That's half right. "Where exactly do they get spanked?"

"On the bottom! On the bare bottom!! On the bare bottom!!"

"Right!"

WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!!

Five more slaps landed on Cynthia's burning bottom.

He put the paddle down on the floor. Was it finally over?

SMACK!! No, it wasn't... SMACK!! SMACK!!

Only his hand this time, but by now it wouldn't matter if he'd used a feather. Cynthia couldn't believe how much it could keep hurting. SMACK!! SMACK!! "You've been a bad girl, Cynthia, you understand that?" SMACK!!SMACK!!

"YES!! YES I WAS BAD!! I WAS BAD I'M SORRY I'M SORRY!!"

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! "Are you learning your lesson?" SMACK!! SMACK!!

"YES!! YES I'LL BE GOOD I'LL BE GOOD!!"

SMACK!! SMACK!! "SMACK!! "Are you sure you're not just saying that so I won't spank you?" SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!

"NO!! NO I MEAN IT I'LL BE GOOD I'LL BE GOOD I PROMISE I PROMISE!!"

SMACK!! SMACK!! "How will you be good?" SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! "How will you be good Cynthia?" SMACK!! SMACK!!

"OWW!!!OWW-HOWW!!! - I'LL-OWW!!!-I'LL FOLLOW THE OWW!!! -R-RULES AND OWW!!! -I'LL-I-I'LL OWW!!! -BE OBEDIENT AND-AND-OWW!!!-I-I'LL BE-BE-OWW!!! R-R-R-ESPECT-OWW!!!-RESPECTFUL-RESPECTFUL TO MY-MY-OWW!!!-M-MY MO-HOMM!!"

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! "Do you really mean it Cynthia?" SMACK!!

SMACK!! SMACK!!

"OWW!!! OWW!!! YESS!! YES I MEAN IT I MEAN IT I'LL BE GOOD I'LL BE GOOD I'LL BE A GOOD GIIIIIRLLLL!!"

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! "You promise?" SMACK!! SMACK!!

"OW!! OWW!!! OWW!!! YES YES I PROMISE I PROMISSSSSE!!!"

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!

He stopped. Cynthia was crying hard, a note of gratitude mixed with anguish. He set her on her feet again and placed her hands on her head. This time he stood up and turned her around to face her mother. Mrs. Kim still sat calmly, watching the proceedings.

"Now you're going to apologize to your mother, in your own words, and be specific!"

Cynthia hiccuped as she panted out "I-I'm sorry mama."

SMACK!!

His hand slapped her bottom again sharply, and Cynthia let out another shriek.

"Properly!" he said. "What are you sorry for? Start again!"

"I-I-"

SMACK!!

"OWW!!! I-I'm sorry I was b-b-bad mama - and - and - I'll- I'll be good - and -"

SMACK!! "Be specific!"

"OWW!!! I- I - I'll get per-permission before I-b-before I go play, and - and -"

SMACK!! "What else are you sorry for?"

"OWW!!! I-I'm sorry I- I w-was disre- disrespectful to you mama - and - and I'll never do it again mama - I - I promise!"

Mrs. Kim just nodded. Cynthia heard something make a clicking sound behind her, but she couldn't tell what it was.

"Well Mrs. Kim, do you think Cynthia's learned her lesson?"

"I think she's getting the idea." Said Mrs. Kim.

The man turned Cynthia around so that Mrs. Kim was looking right at her burning bottom.

"What do you think, can she take a little more, just to be sure?"

Cynthia gasped in horror as the implication of what was being said hit her.

"I think some more would be a good idea." She heard her mother say. Cynthia began to shriek NO!! NO!! As the man picked her up and sat down again, plopping her face down across his lap for another round of spanking.

"NO MOMMY PLEASE NO!! PLEASE PLEASE!!"

"Cynthia..." she could feel the man's hand on her head, his voice firm but somehow calming; she lay panting in terror.

"Mrs. Kim, take this quarter please." Cynthia saw her mother take the coin for him. What was he up to now?

"Cynthia, which hurt most to be spanked with? The ruler, or the paddle?"

What a question --- the paddle had hit so fast that she couldn't stay on top of or get ahead of the pain, it had seemed to spread the pain out... it burned so that her whole bottom was on fire; but the ruler ... nothing in her life had hurt as much as that.

"Which one, Cynthia?"

"The-the ruler--!" she managed to gasp.

"Okay. Mrs. Kim, would you flip the coin, so it lands right here where Cynthia can see it?"

Her mother sat forward and tossed the coin in the air.

"Call it, Cynthia." He said.

"T-t-tails..." she blurted.

"Tails it's the ruler, then."

The quarter bounced into the carpet. Cynthia could clearly see the eagle embossed on its backside.

SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! The ruler cut a stinging stripe into the blaze of Cynthia tortured bottom. She howled at the top of her lungs. SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!!

"Flip it again."

Again the coin went up. Again it came down, and again Cynthia saw that dreaded eagle.

SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! Cynthia screamed and yowled. SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!!

"Again please."

Cynthia's mom flipped the coin again. It bounced again on the carpet. This time it was George Washington's profile looking back at her.

WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!! The paddle this time, a harder, bigger whacking; did it really hurt less than the ruler? Cynthia screamed and sobbed. WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!! WHAP!!

"Again"

When was this going to stop?? Oh god no! Not tails again!

SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!! SPAT!!

Cynthia shrieked and howled and cried.

SMACK!!

He was using his hand again, which wasn't that much of a relief but at least it helped a little.

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!

No it didn't --- by now Cynthia's bottom was so sore it wouldn't matter what he used.

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!

SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! He just went on and on and Cynthia hadn't the strength left to do much but lay there and sob and sob and sob.

SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!
SMACK!!

...and...

SMACK!!

Four more of the hardest slaps he could give, and then one more super-humongous extra-hard butt-busting slap.

And it was over. He stopped, and it was really, really over this time.

He stood up and led her over to the door, turning her back to the full-length-mirror.

"Look at your bottom, Cynthia."

She turned to look. She was a mess - hair disheveled, face red and wizened, eyes puffy and red from crying, tears and snot running all over her face. But her bottom - that was even worse. Her little buttocks were covered in deep crimson fields, with little bumps scattered throughout that were an even angrier red, and several darker red vertical stripes cris-crossing her cheeks. Her bottom looked even redder than some of the pictures in that book. It made her cry even more.

"Reach down with your right hand, and touch your bottom with your fingers, but no rubbing, understand?"

Cynthia nodded. She reached down touched her right cheek gingerly. The skin was as hot as steaming water!

"Turn around and face the mirror, Cynthia."

Cynthia turned and faced her ghastly reflection. She didn't like looking at herself naked; she liked it even less now.

"Now, repeat after me: Bad girls get spanked on their bare bottoms."

"Bad -- girls get s-spanked on their bare b-bottoms."

"I, Cynthia was a bad girl,"

"I, Cynthia -- was a-- bad girl,"

"...so I got spanked on my bare bottom."

"...so I got spanked on m-my bare bottom."

"I, Cynthia..."

"I, C-Cynthia..."

"...got a good spanking on my bare bottom..."

"...got a g-good s-spanking on my b-bare bottom..."

"...because I was willfully disobedient..."

"...because I was w-willfully disobedient..."

"...and disrespectful to my mother."

"...and disrespectful t-to my mother."

"Now turn and look at your bottom again."

Cynthia turned and again looked at her ravaged rear end.

"Turn and face your reflection again."

Cynthia turned to face herself again.

"Look right at your reflection."

Cynthia stared into her own puffy red eyes, tears still flowing freely down her face.

"You know what to say?"

"...yess.." she whimpered.

"Say it."

"Bad -- girls get s-spanked on their bare b-bottoms -- I, Cynthia was a-a bad girl --so I got spanked on m-my bare - my bare bottom." She especially hated saying that part, and started a new crying jag.

"Come on Cynthia." He said."

"I, C-Cynthia --- got a g-good s-spanking on my b-bare bottom---because I wa-wa-was w-willfully d-d-disobedient - a-an-and disrespectful t-to my m-m-mother." She broke down in loud sobbing.

"Now turn and look at your bottom again."

Cynthia again turned and peered over her shoulder at her incredibly red bottom. She was feeling very sorry for herself right now, especially the part of her that had gotten spanked.

"Alright. Keep your hands on your head and turn and face me." He picked up the camera again, and clicked it in her sobbing face.

"Turn around." He said, clicking again, immortalizing Cynthia's tortured bottom for their hall of fame.

"Do you know why your bottom got so red Cynthia?"

"N-no..."

"That's from the heat. When your skin gets hot from the spanking extra blood goes to your bottom to cool it off by radiating heat back out. That's why your skin's hot right now."

How fascinating to know that.

"You understand what happens to bad girls now, right?"

"Y-y-yes sir..."

"If you're a good girl, you'll never have to do this again. But if you're bad again, you'll have to come back and get another spanking. Do you want that?"

"-nn-n-no-"

"Okay, she can get dressed now."

As Mrs. Kim thanked the man and shook hands, Cynthia clapped her own hands to her aching bottom. The skin was so hot it was like touching a heating pad!

Mrs. Kim and her daughter went back behind the screen as the man left. Cynthia dressed carefully, slipping her panties and jeans on gently so as not to brush her sore skin, and standing up to tie her shoes.

And at last her mother led her by the hand out back into the waiting room, where now it was Cynthia's turn to be a spectacle, a sobbing, warning to the children waiting for their appointments. She wasn't quite bawling like a baby, but she was still crying hard as she brushed past their gaping eyes.

And as she squirmed in her car seat on the way home (because it really did hurt to sit down), she reflected on her experience. So that was what a spanking was like. Cynthia knew one thing; she never wanted another.

And as she drifted off to sleep that night, laying on her tummy for comfort, she tried her best not to think about the pictures of her bare bottom in that photo album, and hoped none of the other kids at school ever went for spankings...