I am FURIOUS .
I am seventeen years old, I'll be eighteen in September and what happened to me this week is a disgrace. My parents are very religious and insisted on sending me to a private school here in Georgia because they believed that discipline there was better than in public schools. I hate the petty rules (uniform, grey pants white shirt and school tie every day at my age is stupid) but have not had any real problems there. They use paddling for punishment but I have had no problems and never got it, until this week that is.
My parents hardly spanked me until I got to about 11 then my dad whipped me with his belt, bare butt over the end of the bed, on three occasions until I was 13, it hurt like hell and I was glad they finished at that time. School work has never been a problem but once last month and again early this month I was late for class ('tardy', they call it)and I had to go to the principals secretary and register my name on the 'tardy book'. Ridiculous at 17. Anyway, each time I was warned that three tardy's in a semester meant three licks of the paddle. S u r e ? Like, get real, I'm 17, I graduate in 2 months.
On Monday I was a bit late in getting up, my mom woke me on time but I was a bit slow and hit the school gate about 15 minutes late. I was sent off to see Mrs Dunn, the secretary, like a little kid, and she wrote me up again. Then she told me to take a seat. I looked at her, funny. Then I realised she really was going to send me in to see Mr Harris, the principal. I just couldn't believe he had nothing better to do than lecture a high school senior on timekeeping, but she was absolutely uninterested. I sat there about 5 minutes when he came to his door and called me in. He went on and on about the need for order in class and about how he couldn't have students wandering in and out as they pleased. He asked me if I agreed. What could I say ? "Of course", I said, "I understand." I expected a ticking off or even a detention but I flat out couldn't believe it when he reached into a drawer and pulled out a paddle ! It was about 15 inches by 4 inches, sort of a cross between a frat paddle and a little kids one. It looked mean, about a half inch thick in dark brown varnished wood. Seems someone in woodworking shop made it for him about 7 years ago; thoughtful guy even drilled a dozen or so holes in it. I stuttered that this was not called for, that there was a misunderstanding, that I was 17 and that there must be..... No way, he wasn't having any of it. He told me flat out that I had been well warned and I either took my three licks or I was suspended.
My folks would have gone up the wall, and as I say I expect to graduate well in the next two months. With a blazing red face I stood up and glared at him. I think that look is what made him really put his back into these licks. All he said was, "Take everything out your pockets and assume the position, bend over the desk and grip the other side of it."
The first SWAT took me completely by surprise, I was knocked forwards and let out a "Hoouh". My butt was blazing, like I had sat on a bee hive. I let go the desk and felt his hand on the small of my back, "Dustin, stay in position or it means extra swats, you know that". I knew nothing of the sort, it was my first paddling ever, and I was just plain stunned at how much one single hard swat could sting like hell. I slowly got back in place, and he let fly with a CRACK, swat number two. My ass felt not so much a sting as a wave of numbness. I cried out "NO!!". I just couldn't help myself, I didn't care who could hear me outside and I felt my vision blur, _s_h_i_t_, I was NOT going to cry. I am 17 for God's sakes. The pain was coming over me in waves and my face was burning almost as much as my butt. I could feel sweat in my hairline. I must have looked a mess.
Harris muttered on about learning from this, then, without warning, he let me have SWAT number three. That did it, I was up and dancing about, a hand on each butt cheek crying my eyes out and saying "sorry, Sorry" over and over again. By the time I had calmed down I saw he had put that _d_a_m_n_ed paddle away again and he gave me a lecture on learning my lesson etc. etc..
When I got back to class everyone knew what had happened and some of the girls were giggling. When I sat down my butt was fighting me back and it still ached when I got home. I looked at it in the mirror and it was as if someone had taken a paint brush with red paint and drawn a band over both cheeks.
This is ridiculous, embarassing and degrading. I was paddled like a little kid.
I told my parents, expecting them to raise Hell with the school board. My mum was sympathetic but my Dad just said I had had pleanty of warnings and I knew the rules when I chose to break them. He also said his own Dad would have added a dose of the strap when he got home, and maybe a leathering might be what I needed to keep me in line ? I was going to tell him just exactly what I thought of that dumbass idea but the look on his face was enough to keep me quiet. He wears a thick Levis' belt, wide, black leather, and I caught a glimpse of the buckle as I bit back my reply.
I went up to my room and, before I went to bed I peeled down my boxers and had another look. Jeeze, there is the makings of a real awful bruise there. I slept Monday night on my stomach.
Well, as I say, that was Monday, you just plain wouldn't BELIEVE what happened on Tuesday.
[In Part 2]