This short story is an entry in the 2001 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Child
Schoolgirl's Complaint
By
Kent Stoneking <kentls001@worldnet.att.net>
The buzzing of his intercom broke Michael Donaldson's concentration. He hit the reply button, trying not to let his irritation show. "Yes?"
"Paula Winthorpe to see you, sir," his secretary advised.
"Very well. Send her in." Actually, he could use a break from going over the faculty's budget requests.
The office door opened and the aforementioned girl strode in to stand before his desk. He gave her the once-over quickly. Shoulder-length brunette hair neatly combed, modest makeup demurely applied, tie properly tied, blazer buttoned, skirt -- well, a bit on the short side but still within regulation, knee socks cuffed and even, shoes brightly shined. He noted some redness and puffiness around her eyes. "Well, Ms. Winthorpe? What may I do for you?"
"It's -- it's about Mr. Torrance," she replied.
No huge surprise there. Donaldson had fielded several complaints about that particular instructor over the year. Torrance's teaching methods were sloppy at best. He often came to class late and unprepared for the day's lecture; his written materials contained numerous typographical errors and other inaccuracies; and he was chronically late with grading reports and other academic minutia. In fact, Donaldson was seriously recommending to the Board that they not renew Torrance's contract.
"And what about Mr. Torrance?" he inquired.
"He paddled me."
Undoubtedly unpleasant, but not an unusual occurrence at an institution with the Academy's strict standards. Indeed, Donaldson had disciplined Paula himself on at least one occasion. "Why did he paddle you?"
"For being late to class."
"And were you? Late to class?"
"Yes, sir."
A marginal offense, but still within the punishment guidelines. "Do you feel the paddling was unwarranted?"
"No, sir, I'm sure I deserved it."
"Then why are you here?"
"Well ... it's not that he paddled me. It's how he paddled me."
"What do you mean, Ms. Winthorpe?"
She hesitated, biting her lip.
"Did he give you too many swats?"
"No, sir, just the usual two dozen."
"Did he pull down your panties?"
"No, sir, I did that myself."
"Did he touch you inappropriately?"
"No, sir."
That exhausted the usual list of complaints, but Donaldson felt no closer to solving the problem. "Then what, Ms. Winthorpe?"
Still no answer. Donaldson felt like paddling her himself. "Ms. Winthorpe, just what exactly did Mr. Torrance do?"
"Well ... see for yourself." She turned her back on him, hiked up her skirt, and pulled down her panties. The solution lay revealed. Paula's left cheek glowed bright red with some purplish spots; the right remained an untouched, pristine white.
Donaldson sighed and shook his head. That was typical of Torrance. He always did a half-assed job.
The End
© Copyright Summer, 2001
Reviews
John Benson <johnb(at)ssec(dot)wisc(dot)edu>
This is actually very cleverly constructed and I did not see it coming. But it was a pun. A real groanner. Anyone who commits puns should have Terrible Things done to his helpless body.
Hmmm. Let's see. This is a spanking newsgroup, after all, we should be able to think of something. Oh. I know. I know. Let's tie him up and have him get tormented by a big pack of really sassy brats. Yeah. And he can't spank them 'cause he's all tied up. That'll do it. Serve him right.
Heh, heh.
Pam <PamiMac(at)aol(dot)com>
My my my. I sure do hope they do not renew Torrence's contract. Imagine how he messed that one up. Great ending to a fun story.