Author: The Naughty Gaffer brndtag at mcn.net.
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Title: Seatbelts Save Asses  
Keywords: F/fff, spank
Summary: High school girls get a lesson in responsibility 
It all started five or six years before the day I got caught. A teenage boy and his two girl passengers were killed on their way to school one morning. Nobody really knows how the accident happened, but they found the car smacked into a tree and the three kids were dead. None of them were wearing seatbelts.
So how did that get me in trouble? See, there were meetings at the school board and meetings with parents and the school adopted a new policy called the Consensual Punishment Policy. It ran like this:

Seatbelts save lives (duh).
Passengers and drivers share responsibility for their own safety.
Since the consequences of an accident could be instant and terrible, the best way of encouraging seatbelt use is a sharp, instant punishment when seatbelts aren’t used.
Drivers on school property and all their passengers must wear seatbelts. No questions asked, no excuses heard. Compliance would be monitored at random.
Parents could elect to exempt their children from the Consensual Punishment Policy, in which case a violation would result in the student being sent home immediately for a week-long suspension, loss of dance privileges, loss of parking privileges, and loss of participation in extracurricular activities for the rest of the semester. (Parent participation ran something like 98%. I know my parents signed me up for the CPP.)
If parents took part in the CPP, the school would handle punishment.
If a driver was observed without a seatbelt or with un-belted passengers, the driver would receive a spanking. Boys would be handled by the chief football coach, girls by the volleyball coach. 
Spanking would happen on underwear or bare skin at the coach’s discretion. The boys’ coach usually went underwear, but not Miss Blachurst. (Her nickname was Miss That Hurts). The principal would notify the parents in case they wanted to intervene (nobody ever got off the hook).
The driver would receive 10 swats automatically, plus 10 for each un-belted passenger in the car, including the driver himself/herself. Un-belted passengers would receive 20 swats. Belted passengers would get 10 swats. Everybody of the same sex in the car would have to watch. And the driver always went last.
School staff could take part in the CPP or accept a week-long suspension without pay, and rumor said that at least three teachers had fallen victim to the coaches, but nobody knew for sure.
Private schools sometimes have latitude that public schools don’t. The policy may seem kind of rough, but we had way less accidents after that and nobody had been killed for three years. So I guess it was paying off.
So on a Friday morning when Charlize and Alicia were running late and they just piled in with Marlene and me, it turned out to be random day. I wouldn’t have known about it being random day if I’d checked the back seat, like I usually do, but I had just pulled in when Miss That Hurts herself put her hand up and waved a clipboard at me. “Oh, shit,” I muttered – too loud, it turned out. There’s a spot on the infraction report for “Attitude” and “Oh, shit” is the wrong answer. There’s a numeral 5 beside “Attitude” and a plus or minus sign. You do the math.
“Charlize, Alicia, I think you will owe Madison an apology when we’re finished. Each of you report to your home room at once, then to the locker room. You know what part.”
I knew what part, although I hadn’t had to go behind the screen before. I had heard sometimes, though, when I had first-period PE. Miss That Hurts apparently used an old-fashioned wooden ruler. And by first-hand accounts, she used her discretion on the underwear issue. Everybody went bareback when Miss That Hurts was riding.
I checked in at home room and told Mr. Davis that I had to report. I didn’t say why, but his sympathetic look told me he had figured it out. It was a pretty rare occurrence at the school, say two or three times a month, but everybody knew what it was. Then I went to the girls’ locker room. The other three were inside already. Miss That Hurts arrived a minute after we did. (All right, the whole thing was partly my fault and mostly Charlize’s fault and Alicia’s fault, but I’m still going to call her Miss That Hurts for this. She didn’t set the policy, but all the girls who’d gone in back said she seemed to like the policy. I was about to learn too much about it.)
She looked at us and at four cards in her hand. “Madison, I see this is your first infraction. I didn’t think I’d had you for this before. Charlize, this is your second appearance. That means an extra 20 for you. Marlene, Alicia, you are also here for the first time. I will explain the procedure.
“All four of you will kneel on the mat. Alicia, you are the youngest and a first offense, so you will go first. I will give you 10 swats on your panties and 10 on your bare skin. If you cooperate, it will take about a minute. If you make it difficult, I will add five swats for each interruption – and additional swats are always on the bare skin. That, and the swat I was trying to give will be repeated. When I have finished your punishment, you will return to the mat.
“Marlene, you will be next. You will receive five swats on your panties and five on bare skin, and I urge you to cooperate. If Alicia has any trouble, I hope you will learn by her example.
“Charlize, you will be third. You will receive all 40 swats on your bare skin, since you are a repeat offender. According to my notes from your last punishment, I had to add 10 swats for difficult behavior. Please learn from that session and take your punishment calmly.” I could see Charlize pursing her lips and I thought she’d be lucky to get off with 50. But Miss That Hurts was talking to me now.
“… you will receive 30 swats if you cooperate. You will receive the first 10 on your underwear and the rest on your bare skin. I almost forgot – the five swats for attitude will also be on bare skin. But there is a problem with your clothing.”
I looked at myself and realized what it was. I was kind of dressed up, including platform shoes and nylons. That would get in the way. But I didn’t get my hopes up; Miss That Hurts was sure to have an answer, and she did.
“Here, go to your locker and put your clothes away. Come back wearing this and your underwear.” “This” turned out to be a soccer jersey, blue and long. When I held it up in front of me, it came to about my knees. I nodded and went quickly. She wouldn’t start the punishment until I got back and I didn’t want to keep her waiting. Well, I did want to, but I knew I’d be sorry if I did.
I scurried to my locker and opened it up as quick as I could, but my fingers were fumbling badly. I got it open and stripped off my blouse, hanging it up so it would be neat when I put it back on. Then I put my platforms in the bottom of the locker and I unzipped my skirt. It felt funny, stripping down before first-period even started. It almost felt naughty, like the first time I touched my breasts. But I didn’t stop to think too much. Zipper down, skirt down and folded. Then the damn pantyhose. They took way too long, it felt like, but I was down to my bra and panties. The room was chilly and my nipples had decided to wake up and push through my bra. I pulled the jersey over my head and it fell loosely over my panties. Then I got back as fast as I could.
Miss That Hurts was waiting, but she didn’t look impatient. The other girls were kneeling on the floor and looking pretty scared. Charlize looked like she might even puke, but she didn’t. I quickly knelt beside her and looked up.
Miss That Hurts motioned to Alicia, who stood up reluctantly. She was wearing a denim jumper over a T-shirt and sandals. She went over quickly and lay over Miss That Hurts’ lap without any fuss. Her bottom was sticking up and Miss That Hurts pulled her jumper up to her waist with a quick jerk. The wooden ruler appeared in her hand and it flashed as it smacked on Alicia’s pink panties. “Yipe”, Alicia said, then shut up. Her hand had started to come up, but she put it back on Miss That Hurts’ knee. Each time the ruler flashed up and down, I thought Alicia would really yell or would put her hand in the way, but she didn’t. Even when Miss That Hurts lowered her panties, kind of slowly, she kept looking straight ahead. I could see she was biting her lip and there were some tears streaking her face, but she held on through the second set of swats. Miss That Hurts pulled her panties back up and rubbed a minute to take some sting out, then she set Alicia on her feet.
“You took that very responsibly, Alicia,” Miss That Hurts said. “Take your place.” Alicia knelt and sat down, but she was kind of bouncy. And that was less than I had to worry about. Plus, it was partly my fault she was sitting there with her face all red and teary. My stomach lurched. But so did my bottom, somehow. It was scary and I felt bad for Marlene especially, since she hadn’t really done anything, but somehow I was still feeling tingly in my butt and between my legs.
Marlene was next and she went up as bravely as she could. She was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. Miss That Hurts pointed toward Marlene’s waist and Marlene quickly opened up her pants and pulled them down. She tried to bend over, but she couldn’t quite do it. Miss That Hurts looked at her. “I understand, Marlene,” she said. “I won’t count it against you, but you must bend over. I’ll help you.” She grabbed Marlene and pulled her over into position.
Marlene got through the five on her panties okay, but she put her hand up and tried to stop Miss That Hurts when she felt the hand on her panties. “Tut, tut,” said Miss That Hurts, “that one will count for five more.” And it didn’t do Marlene any good anyway. Miss That Hurts pulled her panties down and got to work on her bare skin. And I had gotten her into this! But I was still kind of turned on, watching her squirm while the ruler smacked on her bare bottom ten times. Then she had her panties back up and a quick rub, and Miss That Hurts let her pull her pants back up. Marlene knelt next to Charlize.
Charlize had been getting madder every minute and I knew there was going to be trouble. Well, it was my fault she was here, but it was more her fault than mine. And besides, if she made any trouble, that extra was her fault. I had my own problem to worry about in about two minutes.
Charlize got up and went over, but she shook her head when Miss That Hurts told her to bend over. So Miss That Hurts grabbed her and pulled her in front of her. “That will count for five, Charlize. You knew better,” she said. Charlize was already crying and nothing had happened yet. “You have five seconds to get ready or I will do it for you.” Charlize wouldn’t open her shorts, so Miss That Hurts held Charlize between her legs and popped the snap open. She pulled Charlize’s zipper down and then yanked the khaki shorts down to mid-thigh. She pulled Charlize’s white panties down right after that, since she was to be spanked bare anyway. A quick pull got Charlize over her lap and ready to start. 
Not Charlize! I admired her nerve, but it was stupid. It took almost a minute to get her pinned down with her bare bottom ready. Then Miss That Hurts counted out five for resisting, five more for struggling, and five for biting. Fifteen and the main even hadn’t started! I was halfway terrified and halfway to coming. My own bottom could almost feel the air through the jersey and my panties, which were maybe a little wet. Meanwhile, I could see Charlize’s bottom getting pink and then kind of red as the ruler swept up and down.
Charlize was finally finished off, so Miss That Hurts pulled her clothes back in place and let her zip up. Charlize knelt beside me and finally settled down. Now I was up.
It was hard to get to my feet, but I did. I stood up and my legs felt numb, but my butt felt like someone was stroking it with a feather. Even my nipples were hard and I was glad the jersey was loose enough to hide how they were standing up. 
I bent over as soon as Miss That Hurts touched my arm. It didn’t feel real, but I figured it would feel real enough in a minute. I felt the cool air of the locker room across my thighs when Miss That Hurts pulled the jersey up over my ass. “Hold still, now,” she said and the ruler got me for the first time.
“Yow!” I said. It really stung! But it stung right through my bottom into … other parts. She kept swatting me across my panties until she reached seven. By then it hurt so bad and it felt so good that I couldn’t help squirming pretty hard. I’m small, so my breasts were rubbing against her thighs through the jersey and that was turning me on even more. But it still hurt!
“Five more,” I heard past my own yelp. I was squirming too much! I didn’t want this to go on all morning, not really. So I grabbed the legs of the chair and willed myself into holding still. Four more swats on my panties and then I felt her hand under my waistband. 
I don’t think I’m gay. I think I would have been more turned on by a guy’s hand, but just feeling the tug on my waistband and then feeling the elastic slide over my skin was incredible. But I managed not to squirm too much. Then the second part started.
Miss That Hurts swatted my bare skin slowly, counting five strokes. “That was for squirming.” She measured out five more slow swats that turned me on like a light bulb. “That was for attitude. Now try to hold still for the real spanking.” I gritted my teeth and clenched my thighs (which felt really good). She went on, thirty more strokes, and I kept squeezing my thighs so I wouldn’t seem to be fighting. I was actually kind of putting my ass up so she could get it better, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself.
She finished, finally, and pulled my panties up. That almost set me off, especially when she rubbed some of the sting off. But I managed to calm down and kneel with the other girls.
She dismissed us all with the usual speech. I managed to pay some attention in school, then I buckled up carefully and checked the other girls. I got them home and rushed home myself, to my room, to take my skirt and blouse off and get rid of my nylons and rub my own bottom before I…