Please read the previous Pender County Academy stories for background.

My first view of Richardson Elementary School was a positive one. It was a new building, a one story brick and glass one which set back off of the street. All of the PCA kids went there. You could tell us at a glance, as we all wore the black and white uniform of the school. I finally saw some PCA girls, dressed like we were, except for black pleated short skirts.

I was hustled off to the principal's office to be registered in. I had some paperwork that Ray had given me as I left for the bus that morning. The principal's office was a glassed in room at the far end of the building. As I turned the corner, I skidded to a stop at the sight before me, as I could see into Mr. Ripley's office. There was a PCA girl, bent over holding onto her knees, with her little white panties down to her ankles, and her black skirt hiked up her back, in process of receiving swats from a black paddle with little holes in it being wielded by a large man in a crew cut haircut. You couldn't hear anything through the window, but you could sure see anything you wanted to see. I could see that she had some sort of slit "down there" where her balls should be. With another swat, Mr. Ripley moved away, and the girl stood up. Her little skirt dropped down over her little red butt cheeks, until she bent over to pull her panties up. Her butt looked redder than Eric's had after his strapping last night! It appeared to me that the paddle could be a dangerous thing, and I vowed then and there to never find out!

The door opened, and the crying girl came out and was told to sit in a chair until she could compose herself. Mr. Ripley pointed to me with the paddle, and I honestly think he was going to paddle me with it, until I held up the papers. He hung the paddle from a hook on the wall, so that it was visible through the glass, and took my papers. He told me that I would be in Miss Chambers third grade class. He then yelled to the little girl who was still crying in a chair outside his office. She came in with a scared look on her face. He told her to stop the sniffling, and to tak me back with her to Miss Chanbers room. I followed her down the hall. She told me her name was Mary. I asked her about our teacher. She just looked at me with a sad smile, and put her hand on her butt. She just said "be careful". She said "you know, if we PCA kids get it here, we get it worse when we go back to the campus." She said it with a little catch in her voice. I had visions of her bright red butt being spanked again when we arrived at our room.

Miss Chambers was a young lady. She first asked Mary how she was doing, and I thought that she was very nice to ask, until she reached down and lightly smacked Mary's butt, causing her to yelp, which brought a smile to her face. I gave her he paper that Mr. Richardson had given me. She directed me to a desk, and I saw that I was just behind Mary, who almost jumped out of her seat when she sat down. There was one other PCA girl in the class, but no other PCA boys.

Over lunch, Mary introduced me to Sally, the other PCA girl. I had to ask why she had been paddled, and she just shrugged her shoulders and said that Miss Chambers doesn't like PCA kids, and goes out of her way to get them in trouble. Sally shook her head in agreement. After lunch, we were allowed to play on the swings and monkey bars in the playground. I couldn't help but notice that the PCA girls' uniforms meant that whenever they swung on the bars, their panties showed big time! The other girls had on longer skirts. I wondered why the PCA girls didn't?

School went well, until the next to last period, when disaster striked! I made the mistake of leaning forward to see the page we were supposed to be using in our books. Like a viper, Miss Chambers was there, pulling me out of my seat. She called me a cheat, and pulled me up to her desk, where she wrote out something on a paper, and told me to go to the principal's office! I tried to explain that I was just looking for the assignment page, when she stood up, wheeled me around, and smacked my butt 5 times, telling me that she doesn't need to be talked back to by some juvenile delinquent! She then pushed me toward the door, and smacked me really hard as she shoved me out and slammed the door. I was in shock. Her smacks hurt, but nothing like last night's strap. But she was wrong. I hurried to the office, to tell Mr. Richardson what she had done. I rounded the corner to see another pair of red butt cheeks greet my eyes, as Mr. Richardson was just finishing up paddling a PCA boy that I did not recognize. He was bent over, just like Mary had been. And, just like Mary, his butt was bright red, and every part of his privates was on vivid display. As I watched, he pulled up his pants, and came out to sit gingerly on a chair. I looked at his face, and saw that it was little 6 year old Eric, whose bed was across from mine.

Mr. Richardson called me in, took the note, slammed the door, and told me to drop my pants to my ankles, and grab my knees. I tried to explain how this was all a mistake, and he just smacked the paddle in his hand, and said I had five seconds to be in position. My hands flew to my belt, and I pulled my pants and underwear down without even thinking about how I was now exposed to anyone who happened to walk down the hall. I grabbed my knees, and was rewarded with a trememdous swat. The paddle covered all of my butt, with each swat. The little holes were to cut down on wind resistance, and I can tell you they really worked! I received nine swats, nonstop, every one given as if it were a homerun swing. I couldn't believe the pain! I could hardly stand there, and in my extreem bent over position, my butt cheeks were pulled tight, which I later discovered made for an interesting series of bruises on the inside of my crack, on both sides.

The only good thing about Mr. Richardson's style was that it was over soon. I staggered out, and tried to sit on a chair, but could only lean on one. I was told finally to go back to my room, which I did, just before the last bell rang. Miss Chambers smacked my butt as I walked in, and asked if I had learned anything. She then handed me a note for my counselor, and at that second, I remembered watching the boys yesterday as they hung over Ray's desk for the strap! Surely he wouldn't strap me after my butt had been blistered by Mr. Ripley's paddle...would he? (to be contnued)