I was a junior in high school. I really wasn't a very good student. I knew how to do hard physical work on the farm; but when it came to books I wasn't much good.
For some stupid reason I took algebra. I had to pass this class - any way I could. If I got the chance, which was often, I cheated on tests. Up to now I never got caught. Maybe the teacher knew I was cheating and was just storing up his temper until the right time.
One day after class during which we had a test I was leaving the room the teacher asked me to see him. "I want to see you after school today". "Oh _s_h_i_t_" I thought, I'm busted. Oh well, what can he do? He could flunk me, he could call my parents (Big Deal). I had heard that this guy sometimes used a paddle. Again, Big Deal. I was a junior. I could take A LOT of pain. Cows have kicked me in my ass and I survived - that had to be a lot worse than his guys whimpy paddle.
After school I went to the math room so see what was going to happen really kind of _c_o_c_k_y that this guy really couldn't do much to me, after all I was a junior. I walked into the room. I was accused for cheating, I admitted to my crime. The teacher asked me what he should do for my punishment. I left that up to him. After a short discussion I agreed to let him paddle me. Really how much could it possibly hurt? It might sting for a little while. Big Deal !!
He told me to remove everything from my back pockets and bend over his desk. I bent over as he told me to which tightened my well worn Wranglers across my ass. THEN he told me that he would give me 15 swats!! Swat number One. Big deal, a little sting, no big deal!! I had a tough ass!! Swats number two-eight, my ass started to sting some. Swat nine, _d_a_m_n_ my ass is on fire, it's sizzlin. Swat ten, my ass is smokin. How in the hell could I take five more? For swats eleven-fifteen he brought his oak paddle with a bunch of holes drilled in it as far back as he could. He no longer had his hand on the back of my neck. In fact he took a step back to really wind up. Swat fifteen hit its target. I forgot to mention that he only hit my left cheek, the same place every time. I mean exactly the same place, just above my leg. I wished I had worn NEW Wranglers that day. I thought I had a tough ass; but it was no match for this guys oak board and strong arm. Junior in high school or not I realized that a paddle could still blister my ass. I went out to my truck walking with a limp, drove home, went to the bathroom to look at what he had done to me. My ass was beet red. I still cheated in that class; but I was really careful, No way was I going to let this guy paddle my ass again - it took a week for my blistered ass to recover.