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Tuesday, 15 July 2014

Guest Story: A Hit With The Ladies

(inspired by the artwork 'A Tattletale Earns Him Seconds', by Banjo)

For the first time in years, Randy actually paid attention in class. It wasn't just because he was afraid of getting kicked out of yet another high school; well, he was, but the last time had been for pulling the fire alarm before an exam, not for bad grades. It also wasn't because he had suddenly discovered a passion for learning; Randy had still seen little to make him think that school wasn't a corporate scam. He understood that he needed to bite the bullet and get through one more year to earn his GED, but that didn't make him happy about it. No, the thing that held him captivated was Miss Brookland, or more accurately, the way her ample breasts stood out beneath her white button-down as she turned at a profile to write on the chalkboard. Since the day he arrived at Trask Park Girl's School (which was actually just a few days ago, but it's a figure of speech), Randy had been quite taken with the tall, buxom and blonde history teacher, even if she was a real bitch about classroom discipline.

Oh yeah, Girl's School. About that part. Randy had mixed feelings about being sent to Trask Park. On the one hand, it was a little embarrassing to admit he was going to an all girl school. After his last expulsion, his parents had sat down with the board representative and struggled for hours to find an alternative. Unfortunately, Trask Park was the only high school left in the district that would make an exception for him, and his mother - no matter how much his father insisted on it - couldn't bear to send her darling son away to a boarding school. So, here we was. But on the other hand, despite the embarrassment and the stares and the no football team and the knowledge that he really wasn't supposed to be here, the eye candy at Trask Park was phenomenal. Randy was confident that with his looks and athletics and devil-may-care aura, he'd be drowning in pussy by the end of the term.

"Pssst," said a voice from his left. He looked up to see Amanda looking insistently at him out of the corner of her eye. Speaking of eye candy, Amanda was wearing her white school blouse in a way that would never be permitted at most places. Unbuttoned and tied together at the chest, it left her flat belly exposed at the bottom and her small - but delightfully perky - cleavage at the top. Since there were (in theory) no boys around, Trask Park let its students get away with a lot on hot days like this one.

"Take this," she mouthed silently at him. With a mischievous smile and wink, she picked up a ball of paper and tossed it to him. Well, that was unexpected. Amanda was one of those mindless, brown-nosing squares who went to church every Sunday and always got perfect grades and saved themselves for marriage (hahaha, he'd disproven more than one of them in that). She was about the last person he'd expect to see passing notes in class.

Well, let's see what she has to say. He uncrinkled the paper ball and looked. Instead of text, there was a drawing. A crudely-drawn stick figure standing behind a desk, with grotesquely huge breasts and a comically high-strung expression. Randy almost laughed out loud, as much out of shock as amusement. Amanda had seemed like Miss Brookland's adoring little pet; he must have really misjudged her. He looked back at Amanda. She was sitting back at her desk, eyes on the lecture, but just a soft trace of a grin on her thick, glossy lips.

Randy picked up his pen and started writing his own thoughts under the drawing. I'll bet she uses her panty drawer to keep ice cream frozen. If she wasn't such a-

"Miss Brookland?"

Randy froze, pen still in hand. Amanda had her hand raised. That was hardly unusual, the little know-it-all, but it was also rather unfortunate in this case. Since Amanda sat right across the aisle from Randy, when Miss Brookland's attention shifted to Amanda she was also likely to notice…

"Just a moment, Amanda." Miss Brookland stood to her full, rather impressive height and narrowed her blonde eyebrows. "Randy, can you give me that piece of paper?"

Randy's blood went cold. No no, he wasn't going to get in trouble already, he couldn't. He felt the eyes of the twenty or so girls in the class all fix on him, roasting him from every angle as he met Miss Brookland's gaze. Somehow, the glasses made her hard blue eyes even harder.

"Sorry," Randy said with a self-deprecating chuckle as he absently pushed some chestnut bangs out of his face, "I kinda spaced out, started doodling. I'll throw it away." He started to tear the sheet in half, but she shook her head.

"Hand it to me."


"Look, Ma'am," Randy tossed his head to one side, "it's really not that interesting." He finished tearing the paper in half and started ripping it smaller.

"Mr. Randall Klein, you will give that to me right now!" Her voice had gotten very calm and very dangerous, and it sent shivers down his spine. As she spoke, the tall woman strode into the aisle and stood over Randy's desk, holding out a perfectly manicured hand. Randy looked up into her eyes. They were as hard and dangerous as he had ever seen them. Behind her, Amanda's expression was unreadable. Had she realized it was her raising her hand that had gotten Randy caught? Was she feeling sorry now? Would she admit that it was her who drew the picture?

Slowly, Randy handed Miss Brookland the two halves of the note and tried to put on a cool face. The teacher unwrinkled the two halves and held them together in front of her face. Behind her glasses, her hard, blue eyes widened. Then they narrowed. She crushed the two scraps of paper in her fists and grabbed Randy by the arm.

"Get up!"

The bottom had fallen out of Randy's stomach. His skin was crawling all over as he got to his feet just in time to stop Miss Brookland from tearing his arm off. The teacher turned around and dragged him to the front of the class. Normally, Randy loved walking behind Miss Brookland in the halls and watching her golden braid bounce around behind her head and her big, round ass roll back and forth under her skirt. Right now though, they were the furthest things from his mind. For all her beauty, she was also a big, strong woman, almost taller than Randy, and despite his football muscles Randy wasn't sure he could get free of her if he tried. He gave a desperate, pleading look at Amanda, still sitting at her desk. Amanda was watching the proceedings, wide eyed, with her hands together under her chin. That little bitch! This was all completely her fault, but she wasn't about to step up to the plate for it. Of course, there was nothing Randy could say to Miss Brookland that would be believed. It would be the delinquent's word against Little Miss Perfect's.

Miss Brookland pulled him in front of her desk and threw the bits of scrap paper in the trash before turning to face him again.

"Take off your pants," said Miss Brookland.

Wait, what? Randy thought. "Um...why?"

The cold anger on Miss Brookland's face was punctuated by a moment's smirk. "I would have read Trask Park's discipline code before coming here, young man. Especially as someone with your track record."

Around the room, a bunch of girls giggled. Randy didn't turn his head in time to see if Amanda was one of them.

"Corporal punishment is given by the teacher, on the spot, and on the bare." Miss Brookland emphasized the last three words, the smirk on her ruby lips widening just a bit as she did. "Now, unbuckle your pants and pull them down, or you'll be taken to the Headmistress' office."

Randy looked at Miss Brookland. His Valkyrie of a history teacher was just waiting for him to keep arguing. He looked back at his classmates. The girls were all watching with wide eyes, some embarrassed, some intrigued, some whispering to each other. The cold feeling in Randy's skin turned to heat as his face blushed red. Slowly, he unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans down to his knees. As he did, the whispering increased a bit. Randy was thinner and lighter than most high school athletes (maybe because he kept getting kicked off of teams). His muscles were hard and well toned, but they lay smoothly under his skin, making him more slender than hunky. The one part of him that wasn't thin and slim was wrapped in a pair of blue briefs, which were now exposed to all the girls behind him. Randy had always had kind of a big butt. His hips were slightly wider than usual for a boy, and since he had started putting on muscle a lot of it had concentrated on their wide, pancakey cheeks and made them bigger, as well as firmer. It pulled his briefs over a wide, square frame, and filled and rounded them out in the back.

Miss Brookland opened one of the bigger drawers in her hardwood desk and, giving Randy a rather nice view down her collar as she bent down were he in the mood to notice, pulled out a rectangular, wooden paddle. It didn't look very thick, but it was long, and wide; each blow would cover both cheeks of a teenaged bottom. Randy's eyes widened as he saw the weapon. He was no stranger to being paddled, but never in front of the class...and never bare! Making him basically strip in front of the class - in front of a class of girls, no less - could that even be legal?

She pointed to the desk. Closing his eyes, face burning with indignation, Randy stepped up to the desk and bent over it, gripping the far side with his fingers. He supposed there was nothing he could do but get this over with. As long as he couldn't see the girls, or the teacher, he supposed he could live with this. He would just pretend he was alone, that there was no one watching. He could do this.

That was when he felt Miss Brookland's sharp fingernails under the waistband of his underwear, followed by cold air on his naked bottom cheeks as his underwear were pulled down to join his jeans, and his stoicism melted away. He gasped. Ass, dick, ballsack, it was all out in the open, presented to the girls in the most pathetic, objectified possible way. Before he could even try to get up, Miss Brookland's hands took his jeans and underwear and pulled them further down to below his knees. She picked up the paddle. Randy gasped. This was not how he had been planning to introduce his classmates to his naked body. He felt his face go red and hot. This wasn't livable at all! this was a nightmare!

"You're getting ten of these, Mr. Klein, and you're going to count them."

Randy almost whined out loud, but he still had too much dignity for that, if just barely. He turned his head back toward the blackboard and waited, heart thumping, muscles tense. Twenty-two pairs of female eyes scanned his naked bottom and crotch. He took his mind off of them when the first paddle swat landed.


Just like that, his bottom burst into flames.

"AH! OW! OW! OW!"

His feet drummed against the floor, his fingers released the edge of the desk and grabbed them again as he tried to divert the energy to anywhere except his ass. The paddle was heavier than it looked, and there was a broad stripe across both his cheeks that felt like it had been skinned.

"Count it, Randy!"

"Owwww...one!" He managed to get out. As soon as he did, he was rewarded with the second lick, right exactly on top of the first.


He didn't scream. He didn't stand up. But he did everything short of that before managing to say "two."


This one hit lower, catching his sit spots from a low angle, but with the top part of the paddle overlapping the earlier swats. He actually jumped off of the floor. These people were insane! This was a crime against humanity! He'd have the UN human rights commission and a war crimes tribunal and-


The paddling went on, and on, ten licks somehow taking an eternity. After each swat, he was sure his butt couldn't feel any more pain, surely you couldn't keep adding agony and not get diminishing returns at some point, the nervous system must have limits. But with each CRACK, he turned out to be wrong. Miss Brookland, it seemed, was an accomplished spanker; every lick landed exactly where she wanted it, which was usually the exact same spot.

Eight. Oh god. CRACK!!! Nine, please please please. CRACK!!! Finally, yes! Ten!


The tenth swat was the hardest, and on the sit spots again. Randy was sniffling, fireworks exploding in front of his eyes. He could feel his bottom smoking, he knew it!

"Stand up."

He shot to his feet, grabbing his hindquarters with both hands. Randy had been hoping the damage would be all in his head, but that was not the case. He felt the heat his bottom was giving off before his hands even touched it. When they did, he felt how soft and swollen it was, and how feverishly hot. Like the rest of the class, Miss Brookland watched him dance from foot to foot, bottom bare and bright smouldering red, penis wobbling pathetically around between his naked legs. Her angry expression was mostly gone, replaced with a wry poker face. At her desk, Amanda, her uniform top still tied immodestly above her midriff, was wearing a soft smile, her glossy, pouty lips parted to reveal her perfectly white teeth.

Randy finished his post-paddling war dance and started pulling his pants back up, but Miss Brookland grabbed his arm.

"Not yet. Take off your shoes, pants and underwear and leave them here."

Randy looked at her, blinking through eyes wet with tears above puffy, red cheeks. "What???"

"You're going to stand in the corner by the door," Miss Brookland said sternly, "and face the wall until the end of class. And keep your hands on your head; no rubbing your bottom!"

Randy threw his arms up in disbelief. "You want me to walk down the aisle naked?"

"You're not the first student in this room who's been made to do it. Is there any reason you should get special treatment?"

I'm a boy, he almost said, but he realized that would be suicide. Clenching his jaw, face nearly as red as his buttocks, Randy finished getting his shoes and pants off and walked down the aisle in his shirt and socks. Girls were staring at him, saucer eyes. Some were gasping. A few were leering. One or two were holding their hands to their mouths to not laugh. When he passed by his own, empty seat, he briefly made eye contact with Amanda. She gave him a gentle smile. He wasn't sure what she meant by it.

Soon, he was in the corner, hands on his head despite every nerve in his body telling him to bring them down, and Miss Brookland's lecture was continuing. Randy looked behind him to make sure Ms. Brookland's attention was elsewhere before clutching his hot buttocks in both hands, hissing a little under his breath; it was hardly any relief at all. As he massaged his wounded ass, however, his thoughts were also on Amanda. On the one hand, he hated her for getting him in trouble. He tended to do that often enough himself, and he sure didn't need help from someone who had probably never seen the Headmistress' office in her life. On the other, he wasn't sure if he could fully blame her for not taking partial responsibility for the note. It's not like things would have been any better for him if they had both been spanked - well, aside from the fact that watching Amanda get her cute butt paddled might have been hot. Still, it rubbed him the wrong way.

But then, calling Miss Brookland's attention to their part of the room. Had she done that on purpose? Had the entire note been some kind of ploy to get him in trouble?

Before his disobedience could be noticed reluctantly brought his hands back to his head (owww, why couldn't she let him rub?) and looked over his shoulder at the top of her honey-blonde head. Miss Brookland was asking a question, and Amanda was answering. Randy wondered what exactly he was dealing with in his wholesome-looking seatmate.

Not five minutes later, he would begin to find out.

"Ms. Brookland, can I please be excused to the bathroom?"

"Of course, Amanda. Take the hall pass."

Randy looked over his shoulder. Several girls in the back rows turned their heads quickly away, some of them visibly giggling. Randy felt an anxious tingling all over his naked lower half as he realized they had been peeking at him. His blush was starting to return; he wondered if his beaten ass looked as swollen and blistered as it felt. Somehow, his butt seemed to get sorer and sorer in the five minutes since the paddling and, no matter how he squeezed or clutched it when the teacher's back was turned, the pain couldn't be relieved. He watched discretely as Amanda took the hall pass from Ms. Brookland's desk and made her way down the aisle toward him. As she approached, he made eye contact with her, giving her an accusing glare. Her response would tell him whether she was sorry for this or not.

At first, Amanda showed no sign of having seen his expression. Then, just as she was passing Randy on her way out the door, she stopped and looked behind her. Ms. Brookland was writing on the blackboard, her back turned to the class. Seeing this, Amanda turned to Randy with a mischievous smile on her juicy lips and tilted her head up to whisper in his ear.

"You know, you have a really cute butt."

Before Randy could even process this, she reached over and squeezed his right buttock, clutching the burning sit spot tightly. Randy gasped, his eyes going wide as she audaciously looked him in the eyes, still grinning. Her skin was dreamily soft and feminine; it hurt where she squeezed his beaten flesh, but her texture sent a little electric tingle across Randy's buttocks and into his crotch, which he felt give a little twitch. Her eyes flicked down to his penis before returning to his own. Randy's arm belatedly rose to catch hers, but she had already let go of him and was walking out the door, just in time to avoid being seen by Ms. Brookland.

Randy stared at the door, heart thumping, mouth still hanging open. His hand went to the spot on his bottom where she had squeezed him, which somehow still tingled. Had that really just happened?

Conflicting thoughts ran through Randy's head. When he had first taken inventory of the local hotties at Trask Park, Amanda had been near the top of the list. Sure, she was an annoying know-it-all who lapped up all the high school bullshit and loved it, but Randy had experience in cracking that sort of nut (in fact, he suspected that doing it to the principle's perfect princess of a daughter had been a contributing factor to his expulsion two schools ago, along with the skateboard incident) and she was hot enough to be worth it. On the other hand, what had she actually meant by that? Girls weren't supposed to grope and make lewd comments in public, everyone knew that was men's work. Was she just making fun of him? Had she gotten him in trouble on purpose and then used the opportunity to fuck with his head? Or was she really interested, and this was her weird way of apologizing for him getting paddled? Whatever the case, Randy decided it was time to seriously reevaluate what he thought he knew about Little Miss Perfect.

He felt the pull of gravity down below, and glanced down. Oh shit. Thinking about Amanda in this context had gone straight to his most vital organ, and it was now semi-erect, holding itself a couple inches in front of him before curving back down. Shit. Being naked and red-assed in the corner in front of all these girls was life-destroying enough already. If they saw this, he was finished. Randy turned himself to face the corner more completely and brought his legs together, hiding his crotch from view. He decided to stop thinking about Amanda and focus on something less arousing. Like how much his ass still hurt. Randy grimaced and looked back at Ms. Brookland; damnit, she was facing his way, he couldn't rub. It was starting to itch as well...damnit, did that mean he was bruised? Moaning under his breath, he tried to think of a more pleasant subject, like the motorcycle he was saving up for or Ms. Brookland being drawn and quartered.

At fifteen minutes until the end of class, Amanda came back in. Randy's dick had mostly gone down by then, but when he saw her it came back just a tiny bit. As she entered, she glanced at the front of the class to see that Ms. Brookland was facing the room. Amanda didn't slow down as she passed Randy this time; instead, she just turned her head to face him, smiled, and licked her lips. Randy's heart skipped a beat as he saw her perky, pink little tongue run across her glossy mouth, leaving her smile wet and glistening. Amanda had round, full, pink, swollen lips. Cock-sucking lips if Randy had ever seen a pair. He saw them wet and hungry for only a second before she looked back in front of her and walked on past to her seat.

Randy felt the butterflies in his stomach come back in force. As he watched her go, his eyes were drawn to the back of her plaid school uniform skirt. Amanda was a slim young woman, but she had a big, chubby ass that pushed the seat of her skirt out behind her. With the skirt hugging it so tightly, Randy could clearly see each fat, juicy sphere bounce and wobble off of its twin as she stepped down the aisle and sat back at her desk. Round, taut, and just enough droop to make a nice jiggle under the cloth. He felt his palms itch to squeeze those cheeks, to knead them and grab them and slap them. Did she always sway her hips that much as she walked? At the moment, Randy could hardly be analytical about that. He began to salivate. Standing here, in pain, not knowing what Amanda was really thinking or being able to ask her, it was torture! Randy felt his cock rising again, and this time he couldn't get it to stop. He looked over his shoulder at Amanda's desk. She was sitting with her back to him, dutifully listening to more Punic Wars boredom and taking notes. Somehow, seeing her looking so innocent when he had just learned the truth stoked his erection. He readjusted himself in the corner and kept his legs clamped shut, praying it would be over soon. He looked up at the clock. Ten minutes, just ten more minutes.

"Ms. Brookland, I need to sharpen my pencil."

For the millionth time since being sent to the corner, Randy looked over his shoulder, taking care to keep his crotch facing the wall. As the pencil sharpener was mounted on the wall across the door from Randy, Amanda was coming back toward him. As she approached, her eyes met his, and she brought her pencil eraser up to her lips and chewed demurely at the tip, all while making something like puppy eyes. Randy felt himself get even harder, his cock now straining to its full length. He felt himself tremble as she came up to him.

"Stop," he mouthed at her, taking a hand off his head and holding his palm up, "after class."

Amanda looked over her shoulder. Ms. Brookland was facing the blackboard, beginning to write out a long, complicated homework assignment, and all the other girls were paying attention. She looked back at Randy, and raised her finger in front of her grinning mouth in a mischievous "hush" gesture. Still smiling and maintaining eye contact with Randy, she slowly inserted the pencil into the sharpener and ran her petite fingers down its shaft before starting to turn the crank. As she sharpened it, she danced in place a little and wiggled her hips, making her plump bottom cheeks bounce and jiggle against the back of her skirt. Randy desperately shook his head and mouthed no, but she just demurely shook her head again and used her free hand to touch her left breast, rubbing the little round thing under her saucily tied blouse. Did she have no sense of where they were? Did she not realize what she was doing to his body?

She pulled the pencil back out of the sharpener and, with another furtive look to make sure Ms. Brookland was still busy writing out the homework, crossed the aisle over to Randy. He tried to turn further into the corner, but she put a hand on his shoulder and gently turned him to face more toward her. Her eyes fell from his face to his erect penis, and she broke into a wide, hungry grin. She looked back up at him and mouthed "big," holding her hand and her pencil about as far apart as Randy's manhood was long. Randy felt lightheaded. He slowly lowered a hand toward her, and in so doing turned himself away from the corner so that he was no longer completely facing the wall.

Then, suddenly, she jumped back and dropped her pencil to the floor. "MISS BROOKLAND!!!"

Randy had just been hit with a hammer. His heartbeat and breathing froze. He tried to turn back into the corner, but of course it was too late. Incomprehension seized him, as he gaped in shock at Amanda. Amanda, for her part, looked shocked as well, holding one hand up to her gaping mouth as the other pointed at Randy's cock.

"Oh my god, his...his...his THING!" She looked at Ms. Brookland in horror as she kept her hand leveled at the offending body part. "It's...oh god, it's just like they showed us in health class!"

Randy couldn't move. He didn't even know what to think. Every face in the classroom had turned toward him. Some girls were shocked. Some were bemused. Many were whispering, and he heard a small chorus of giggles. Randy felt like dying. Miss Brookland was marching down the aisle, and she didn't look understanding. The teacher's hard, blue eyes went wide when she saw where Amanda was pointing. She looked up from Randy's hard cock to his face. For a moment, she just looked stunned, perhaps even flustered. Then her eyes narrowed.

"Well, Mr. Klein, I see you're not taking your punishment all that seriously!"

"Um..." Randy stammered, recoiling a little in the Valkyrian blonde's shadow, "...it wasn't because of that, really! I...it..." he helplessly gestured at Amanda. Amanda put her hand back to her mouth and looked up at Ms. Brookland, apparently outraged.

"Mr. Randal Klein, you are not going to blame my students for your inappropriate..." even through her anger, Randy could see a slight blush well up in her cheeks as her eyes went back to his penis. She gulped a little before finding the words "...for THAT!"

Randy's heart was racing. He tried to think of something to say, but there was nothing. His eyes fell from Ms. Brookland's face to Amanda's, and his face darkened. That bitch. That absolute fucking CUNT!

"I guess I didn't paddle you hard enough last time! Come with me!"

Before Randy could react, Ms. Brookland had reached out and grabbed the back of his neck, pressing her fingers under his collarbone in a classic commando-hold. Randy gasped in pain as she pushed his head downward and started dragging him behind her up the aisle, making him struggle to keep up with her. Every girl he passed stared and whispered. His face burned almost as hot as his still-hurting bottom. He tried to glare back at Amanda, but with Ms. Brookland squeezing his neck he didn't have enough range of motion. With his head held downward at the teacher's side, he had a perfect view of her shapely bottom weaving up and down on each side as she marched him briskly to his doom; that didn't help with his erection.

When they reached the desk, Randy thought Miss Brookland was going to put him back across it, and for a moment she started to guide him in that direction. But then, she seemed to change her mind. With a moment's hesitation and a quick glance down at his crotch, she pulled her cushioned armless chair out from behind her desk and sat heavily on it, pulling Randy across her lap. He could have resisted, but he knew that would get him nowhere. If he got in any more trouble at this point, he'd be sent to the headmistress, and he couldn't afford another expulsion. He gasped as his iron-hard penis lay against the soft material of Ms. Brookland's skirt and was soon pressed by his own weight against her lap. He could feel the warmth and firmness of her thighs underneath, and his erection was only encouraged. He knew that she could feel it. His face was burning, he could feel it even through the rush of blood his head was receiving as it hung near the floor.

Ms. Brookland adjusted herself in the chair so that Randy's wide, pancakey, bright red bottom cheeks were held high over the teacher's lap. At this angle they were pointed most invitingly out into the room, like a class exhibit. He felt cool air running through his crack, and he realized that with his bottom raised over her thighs like this the girls could even see between his cheeks. His humiliation had hit rock bottom. There was no such thing as being more demeaned than this. Ms. Brookland pressed one muscular arm against Randy's back to hold him down as the other produced the paddle from her desk drawer. His stomach was trying to squirm out of his gut. He felt her above him and below him, and sensed her eyes boring into his still burning rump. And he knew it was about to get so much worse.

"This will teach you to be a disgusting little pervert in my class!"


Randy's head shot up. His arms and legs twitched. He howled. The first paddling was nothing compared to being struck on an already bruised and damaged butt. There were simply no words for the pain. He shrieked. She kept paddling.


Randy couldn't think. The only thing that existed in the entire world was his bottom, and it was being pressed against a bed of red hot coals. He struggled mindlessly against her lap, babbling and blubbering to get away as the paddle kept coming down again and again and again, each stroke landing across both cheeks. She smacked the top of his bottom, the lower part, the tops of his thighs, the lower part again, up, down, middle, down...it all blended together, and yet he felt each smack like it was the worst of the lot. The tears started, and Randy could barely think coherently enough to try to stop them.

"You. Will. Behave!"

The paddling went on. His bottom was gone. She had paddled it away entirely he just knew, there was nothing left but raggedy flesh and bone, he would go to the hospital and need a butt transplant and Ms. Brookland would go to jail and ooooooooooooooow he couldn't think!


When the paddling finally stopped, Randy was howling, his face running with tears, the chestnut bangs that normally looked so roguish and uncaring sticking wetly to his skin. How many had he gotten? Twenty? Thirty? Arms trembling, he reached back and, terrified of what he might find, touched his fingertips gingerly to his bottom. Oh god! The skin was still there, he wasn't actually bleeding, but it felt huge! He couldn't believe the human buttocks could grow so swollen, or so hot! Below him, his erection was completely gone. His tip was wet from the few drops of precum that had been squeezed out against her thighs, but he was no longer hard.

"Stand up."

He struggled to his feet, jumping and trembling and stomping from foot to foot, no longer caring about the laughter. He didn't look at the rest of the room. He didn't want to see the girls' faces. In the seat next to him, Ms. Brookland was watching his tormented dance with an unreadable expression. On her lips, there was just the slightest hint of a smirk.

"Class is dismissed," Ms. Brookland said, "remember to copy down the homework. Mr. Klein, you may retrieve your clothes."


The old locker rooms were almost always abandoned, so that's where Randy went the instant he was out of the classroom. He stood with his back to the mirrors, grimacing and hissing as he splashed cold water on his ruined bottom. In the mirror, his cheeks were swollen to at least half again their normal size, and the exact color of ripe cherries, mottled with rectangular outlines where the edges of the paddle had bitten into his flesh. He didn't know human skin could actually turn that color. The water stung like hornets when he splashed it on, but the burning was so hot without it that he couldn't tell which was worse. He was still bouncing a little from foot to foot to try and diffuse the energy, but it was useless; there was no escaping the fire in his bottom, and there wouldn't be for a long time.

He gave up, stepping away from the mirror and clutching his wet, glistening red buns in both hands. So much for drowning in pussy. He'd be lucky if any of those girls ever took him seriously again. He'd been trying to stay out of trouble this time! Really, for once it honestly wasn't his fault! If it hadn't been for that little...

"Ooooh, it's even cuter when it's that color."

He wheeled around, not even bothering to cover his crotch. Amanda was standing near the entrance, one foot resting languidly on the changing bench. She was leaning forward a bit, which meant her small, perfectly shaped breasts were visible down her custom-tied blouse. She was toying with a strand of her honey-blonde hair as she gave Randy a cute little smile.

"What the fuck do you want?" Randy growled. His hands balled into fists. It was all he could do not to throw the manipulative little bitch over the bench and give her a taste of her own medicine, expulsion and legal consequences be damned.

"I think the same thing you want, actually," she said peppily, her smile widening. She really did have lovely lips. "I just wanted to set things straight first."

She stood up and walked toward him, her heels clicking against the tile floor. Randy took a step back, but having her nearby made him feel warm and antsy despite himself. He felt just the faintest return of a stirring down below.

"It's totally obvious what you've been thinking," said Amanda as she backed him toward the faucets, "ever since you've got here. You think you're some big stud who's going to 'get' all the girls, don't you?"

Randy shook his head, his head and heart both pounding. "What? No, I-"

She chuckled. It was a musical sound, even if it was mocking. "You're a terrible liar, Randall Klein. I've seen how you look at me, and everyone else."

He backed into the sinks and gasped as his sore bottom pushed into the edge, jumping a bit. Amanda laughed again, putting a hand adorably to her mouth.

"What the...what the hell are you trying to say?" He tried to stand straight to seem more intimidating, but Amanda was unfazed. She came closer until her body was just a foot from his, her thighs nearly touching his naked legs, her breasts only inches from his ribs. He felt her body heat all over him, and he felt his composure starting to fade again.

"You think we're here for your pleasure. Like we belong to you. You've got it backwards."

She reached down and seized his cock in her hand. Randy's mouth hung open. He was frozen, his brain telling him one thing, his body another. She tickled his shaft with her fingers, and it started getting hard again.

"That really turned me on, you know," she leaned in and whispered huskily in his ear. Her left arm snaked around to caress his hot buttocks, heedless of his gasp of pain, as she gently pumped his shaft, "Heehee, I don't think I've ever seen Ms. Brookland spank so hard! It was hot."

She pressed her torso tightly into his, filling his belly and chest and crotch with the sensations of woman. Almost unwillingly, he lowered his hands to the seat of her skirt and squeezed her juicy ass, pulling her tighter against him. She squealed happily and clutched his dick harder. He was helpless. This was exactly what he had wanted...except that it was also the exact opposite.

"So, after watching that, I need to get laid."

She squeezed his cock harder as her voice fell to a husky whisper.

"And you're going to get fucked."

May not be reposted or redistributed without permission.

Banjo's Afterword:

I hope everyone enjoyed that as much as I did! :) I just want to publicly thank SNM here for writing this wonderful piece and sending it to me; It made me fall in love all over again with the characters I created in 'A Tattletale Earns Him Seconds' (one of my fave pieces I've done, incidentally), and I'm grateful for him agreeing to use my original (unposted) names for the teacher and her "pet".

Schoolgirl and "tattletale" Amanda became a bit more promiscuous than I'd first imagined, but SNM's version builds excitingly on my original concept of her as a mean tease "brat" who puts on a "good girl" act to get a hapless boy in the corner in deeper trouble. The male spankee (whom I never named) becomes a much more interesting character in SNM's story, too, if admittedly a departure from my original artwork idea where (predictably, for me!) he was something of an otherwise "good boy" who is being unfairly earned a follow-up spanking by a mean classmate. In the story version of events, Randy is *much* more of an unsympathetic jerk and thus WAY more deserving of both his spankings... not to mention finally getting a taste of his own medicine being treated as a "sex object"! What's the bet Amanda's just using him and discards him after this encounter the same way he's obviously done with girls in the past?

Still, for me, as much as I enjoyed the deliciously mean and dominant Amanda (certainly a different girl behind closed doors than she is in class!), the Valkyrian Miss Brookland is the real stand-out for me... I'm just absolutely in awe of SNM's super hot descriptions and dialog for her here, and (as I said) it made me crush on the imposing blonde history teacher something sinful! In fact, SNM and I discussed them via email after he'd sent the story and it turns out his impressions of the teacher, Miss Brookland were VERY close to my own ideas about her persona. I think she may warrant a follow-up post with some more artworks, in fact.

As a closing note, one of the things that separates a "good" spanking story from a "great" one for me is how the spanking(s) are described... I found SNM's here to be *incredibly* hot and vivid, both the actual physical descriptions and Randy's realistic reactions: reading it made me feel for a moment that *I* was the one being paddled by Miss Brookland! And I think I was as shocked as Randy was when the second spanking became an impromptu (yet epic) OTK paddling!

- Banjo


  1. This a great story, capturing so much of what I love about 'A Tattletale Earns Him Seconds' and developing a whole fantasy around it. Thanks for sharing. Very hot!

  2. Indeed, a 'great' spanking story inspired by a 'great' piece of art. And I too, found myself very much attracted to Miss Brookland. And Banjo's comments were especially interesting as he described more of the behind the scenes setup information

    Looking forward to follow-up art and stories.

  3. loved the story and am too waiting for follow up stories. when I thought of Miss Brookland I thought of Kelly Kelly aka Barbie Blank Female wrestler and model..

  4. Really enjoy the whole idea of a poor boy who for whatever reason is a "fish out of water" at an all girls institution. So many opportunities from both students and teachers!