When I was a senior in high school I thought I was pretty hot _s_h_i_t_. I was popular with everyone, I played water polo for the school, my body was buffed, and I had literally days left before my graduation (well, just a few weeks anyway).
One day at water polo practice the tennis teacher, Ms. Kenner (who was a TOTAL BABE) walked by the pool area and I made some rude sounds in her direction. She just walked passed, but the next thing I knew she was inside the fence, in the pool area, and she had halted our practice. She couldn't have been more than 24 or 25, and I was 18 and legal, and really believed that I could have a chance at getting into her pants.
She started lecturing me while I was treading water in the pool about how that was not an appropriate way for me to address a teacher, and that no girl on campus should be "objectified" like that. She was really uppity about the whole thing, and I think I said something like, "God, you're on the rag today" or something like that and a couple of more flip remarks to get under her skin. Just when I was feeling gratified about getting her good and flustered (she was red in the face with anger, but keeping her voice calm) I heard coach Haskel say, "All right, Weiler, out of the water, NOW."
I cringed suddenly as I turned in the water and saw him standing on the side of the pool. I swam over to him and got out and he started scolding me as Ms. Kenner came to stand next to him, and I was suddenly painfully conscious of the fact that I was just standing there in tiny little speedos getting scolded like I was a little kid. It made me mad -- I was 18 and an "adult" like them (I thought) -- and I mouthed off.
BIG mistake.
Coach Haskel grabbed me by the upper arm saying, "Let's go to my office, young man" and I yanked my arm away from him and told him to _f_u_c_k_ off and the whole pool area went dead silent. He turned on me and I was afraid for a second that he was going to deck me (he was a really big guy my dad's age).
"You want to graduate, Weiler?" he asked. "Because I can stop that, you know. You want to test me some more, or do you want to come along peaceably and take your punishment like a respectable boy?" That made me flush with anger since everyone had stopped talking to watch, everyone heard him and all the guys (and some girl spectators) knew that "take your punishment" generally meant a paddling.
Sealing my complete mortification he stepped back, and gesturing with his clipboard said, "You're not allowed to paddle a student without a witness, Ms. Kenner. Would you do the honors?" Dread settled like a hot brick in the pit of my stomach. First of all, EVERYONE heard him say that, which meant that everyone in the whole school was going to know (A) that I was getting paddled and (B) that I would likely get it in my speedos and (C) in front of the new tennis teacher (who all the guys were hot for 'cause she was so close to our age and a total babe).
We went into the P. E. Admin. building, and I crossed my arms and walked ahead of the two of them now very, very self conscious about only wearing a little speedo. The coach's office was along the far wall -- really just a partition whose walls didn't even go all the way to the ceiling, but it had windows and a solid wood door -- and as we walked into the main office area he unhooked a small paddle from the wall and told me "In there. We're going to take you down a peg" and gestured toward his office.
Of course, everyone (no students, just staff) was looking at me and it was really hard not to cry. I didn't feel like such a hot shot anymore as I walked into the coach's little office. He and Ms. Kenner walked in behind me and he closed the door.
"All right, look" I said quickly. "I'm really sorry about outside just now, okay? Will you please accept my apology?"
"Are you saying that because you're about to get your backside paddled?" said Ms. Kenner.
I swallowed hard trying to keep my voice calm and said, "No. I mean it" though I really didn't.
"Have a seat over there if you would, Tina" he said to Ms. Kenner. She sat on the other side of his desk as he stepped over to his side of it.
"Come on" I said, but it only came out a whisper.
"You're about to buy yourself extra, kid" said the coach.
I turned my back to Ms. Kenner so that she wouldn't see my tears and said as calmly as I could, "Get Coach Perkins instead." At least Perkins was a man.
"Five, four, three, two" -- he started.
"All right, all right" I said, stepping over to him and putting my hand pleadingly up on his big arm.
"Face Ms. Kenner and put your hands on the desk here, Weiler." GOD this was humiliating. There I was in just a speedo about to be paddled in front of a young, pretty teacher I had the hots for. I put my hands on his desk and stepped back and stretched my back out, presenting my butt as a target and working hard not to cry.
To my horror I felt coach Haskel's hands at my waist, tugging at the elastic of my speedo. "What are you doing?!?" I asked, panicked.
"Pipe down" he said sternly. "She can only see your head and shoulders from there, isn't that right ma'am?"
"Yes" she said, and her eyes gleamed.
"Oh, God" I said, almost involuntarily, as he pulled the back of my speedos down to the bottom of my butt, leaving the front up as much as possible while completely exposing my butt for the paddle. She really couldn't see from where she was sitting, but the fact that I was being paddled bare assed at my age in front of her was almost more than I could bear. I put my forehead down on the desk to hide my shame.
"You keep your head UP, Weiler, got that?"
I screwed up my face in an attempt to hold it expressionless, and lifted my head.
WHACK! went the first crack of the paddle. It was small, like a ping pong paddle (in fact, I think that's exactly what it was) and it landed firmly on my right cheek. I jumped, but didn't make any noise.
WHACK! it landed on my left cheek and I groaned as the fire built in my right cheek.
WHACK! right cheek again and I started to put my head back down.
"Head UP, Weiler" said coach. I lifted my head and now my lip was quivering, even though my eyes were shut. My ass was already on fire, and I didn't know how many more I had coming.
WHACK! left cheek again. I squinted tears out of my eyes, but remained silent. Ms. Kenner didn't say anything.
WHACK! right cheek again. A small "ow" escaped me, and tears coursed down my cheeks.
WHACK! left cheek again. "Ow, OW!" I said, and sobbed once and caught myself.
"Are you ready to apologize sincerely now, Mr. Weiler?" asked the coach. I just shook my head yes as fast as I could, unable to speak.
"I can't hear you" he said.
"Yes, sir" I said, and cried openly then. It was SO _f_u_c_k_ing humiliating in front of both of them.
"Stand up straight" he said, and I did so and opened my eyes.
My face was hot -- almost as hot as my backside -- and with my butt exposed to the coach and just a little pouch of speedo covering me in front I said, "I'm sorry for what I said" and it was all I could do to not ball openly.
"Thank you" she said, and held out her hand which I had to shake.
"Pull up those trunks and follow me, Weiler" he said. I yanked up my trunks, and to my further chagrin he walked out of the office and back to the pool area. I realized that everyone in the main office had heard my paddling, and it was obvious just by looking at me that I had been crying. "Take a seat there" he said, pointing to the small bleachers by the pool. He made me sit there for the rest of practice, and I winced as I sat down and squirmed in discomfort, struggling for the better part of half an hour not to cry out there in front of everyone. It was more from the humiliation of being punished like that and then being put on display -- all in just my speedos -- that got to me more than anything.
At the end of practice I was allowed to get up and shower and change with everyone else. My butt wasn't even red anymore (thank God) and I managed to stay "cool" until I got home. Once there, though, I locked myself in my room and sobbed my heart out. HOW was I going to face everyone for the remainder of the school year?