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by Steve Timmons

Episode 21: Classroom Paddlings, the Morning Session

After leaving Susan's on Saturday, my schedule, especially driver ed. road training, kept me pretty well occupied until Wednesday. I was at her door a little before 9am and she was all set to go. Obviously in a good mood, she let me drive her new car. The trip was about twenty miles each way which would make it my longest trip behind the wheel to date.

Enroute, we stopped at the Stuckey's out on the highway. I bought one of those little novelty paddles that they sell there, the ones that say 'Heat for the Seat'. It was about the same weight and only a bit larger than the little stinger that Susan had used for Spanking School, but even that small difference made it fit better in my large hand. If Sue was right about Beth, it would get a lot of use.

There were a few cars in the school parking lot when we got there. The District 5 High School was originally constructed in the 1930's under one of the New Deal programs. It was named for some obscure politician that no one remembers, but they're stuck with William T. Blinder High School. Over the years, it has been expanded two or three times. Not surprisingly, the newest buildings are the athletic complex.

Susan's classroom was on the third floor of the original structure. It looked like something right out of The Walton's. It was filled with the old style flip top wooden desks that were bolted to the floor. There were thirty of them now but from the marks on the floor in the back of the room, I could see that there had once been ten more. That space now had a couple of tables with loose chairs around them. There were bookcases, file cabinets and storage cabinets along the back wall and blackboards lined the front and the corridor walls. The outside wall was all windows with three large window box air conditioners.

It was pretty stuffy in that room when we arrived. The first thing we did, of course, was to turn on the A/C's and let them run while we made several trips to the car to bring in the storage boxes. Fortunately the A/C's were relatively new and in about twenty minutes, the room was fairly comfortable. Susan put me to work on the bookcases and storage cabinets while she tackled the file cabinets and her desk.

There were seven bookcases. Each one was three feet wide and had eight shelves. That was fifty-six shelves with an average of twenty books per shelf. Susan had them arranged just the way that she wanted them, and to be sure that the books could be returned to their proper place, it was necessary to make note of what went into each box and carefully label them by bookcase number and shelf number. Over and above that, the books had to be arranged in each box just as they were on the shelf. To do the job right would take a while.

We had been at it a little over an hour and were making good progress when I heard her say something about the ladies room and she disappeared. I kept working while she was gone. After a fair bit of time, I heard her return. When I turned toward her, she was standing just inside the door at the front of the room. She had her hands behind her back and that 'trouble for John' kind of smile on her face that I had seen before.

"Okay where have you been and what have you been up to?" I asked, not sure that I really wanted to hear the answer. All I could think of was her comment last Saturday morning about 'I owe you one'.

"Well John, last night while I was getting organized for today, it occurred to me that this would be the perfect opportunity for another demonstration.

"What kind of demonstration did you have in mind?" I asked as if I didn't already know.

"I'm sure you remember our discussion in my kitchen in April, the first time I challenged you to accept a spanking from me so I could show you that I knew how to make a high school boy sorry for disrupting my classroom."

"Yes I do, very well indeed."

"And may I say what a good sport you were about it then, too."

"And on several occasions since," I reminded her.

"Yes, fair enough. I've put you to the test more than once and you've always been a real good sport about it. That's why I know you will be again today."

Then, producing her sorority paddle from behind her back, she said, "On that first occasion, I think I successfully demonstrated that I knew how to deliver an over the knee spanking to a teenage boy. But, if you remember, the genesis of that discussion was the issue of corporal punishment in high school. At the time, as I recall, you advanced the opinion that even if teachers were allowed to administer corporal punishment, a mere 'girl' like me could not do so effectively. So, since we're here in a high school and since I am a high school teacher, and a 'girl', and you're are a high school pupil, today's demonstration will be an old fashioned classroom paddling of an unruly high school boy at the hands of his English teacher."

"A beautiful young English teacher," I amended.

"Why, thank you young man. I'll take your courtesy into account in deciding your punishment."

Now you have undoubtedly detected the flaw in Susan's argument. The idea, at this late date, that I could possibly retain any question whatsoever as to her abilities as spanker, paddler, etc., is, of course, quite ludicrous. The woman gives spanking lessons for crying out loud! Stalling for time, I tried raising a nonetheless practical consideration.

"Hold on now, time out here. Didn't you see all those cars in the parking lot when we pulled in? There are other people in the school. Suppose someone happens by. I'll certainly be embarrassed but you could be fired! Have you thought of that?"

"Yes I have but I've just been around checking the building and it's empty. Most of the cars that were here are gone and the few that are left belong to people over in the athletic complex. We pretty much have the place to ourselves so there's really nothing to worry about, but I'll lock the door to the classroom just in case."

I could tell from the gleam in her eye that she was determined to have her way, so, bowing to the inevitable, I replied, "Well, I suppose that I do owe you one from Saturday and I'll even admit to being a little curious about what it would be like getting a paddling from you here on your own turf, so to speak, though I'm sure you'll make me regret that before you're done. But, with teacher's permission, before you begin your demonstration I need to visit the men's room and, if it's all the same to you, I'll make a quick tour of the building myself."

"Sure, better safe than sorry but don't keep me waiting too long, young man, you're already in enough trouble as it is," she said with a sweet little smile.

"Yes Miss Ames," I responded as I headed out the door.

As it turned out, that trip to the men's room was extremely fortuitous. I went right down to the ground floor and walked every corridor and checked every room. I worked my way back to the third floor and was about to report that the coast was clear when, as I was approaching Sue's classroom, I could hear male voices. As I got closer, it was apparent that they were coming from inside the room.

For some reason, I held back just long enough to catch the drift of the conversation. It was the three class clowns who had made Susan's first year as a teacher so miserable, the same ones whose parents were now raising hell about the negative evaluations that Susan's integrity had required her to write. And speaking of writing, I knew she had sent the letters to the parents as we had discussed on Saturday morning. I wondered if they had received them.

No sooner asked than answered. As I continued to eavesdrop, I picked up a lot of information. I'll summarize it for you. The parents had received the letters and the boys were busted. Their folks were mad as hell. They had discovered that Susan was going to be in school today and had ordered their sons to come in and apologize and to ask, most respectfully, if there was anything that they could do to make up for their bad behavior. Susan told them that it was kind of late for that.

Judging by the tone of the conversation, they were laying on the respect as fast as they could, and when they weren't doing that they were busily engaged in abject pleading. From what I could hear, it didn't seem as if they intended to give her any trouble and, accordingly, my first thought was to leave quietly so as not to embarrass them by my presence.

Then my crafty little mind went into overdrive. If I play things right, I thought, I just might be able to give my friend Susan the chance to paddle their three butts in place of my own. My hastily conceived plan was, admittedly, a little far-fetched and it would all depend on how quickly Susan picked up on what I was doing; but nothing ventured, nothing gained. As you will see, it worked… up to a point.

Very quietly, I backed off down the hall about twenty feet and then made a deliberately obvious approach to her room. Reaching the door, I launched into my opening gambit, "Miss Ames, I put the trash in the dumpster and hurried right back just as you told me to. I hope you're not still angry..."

Feigning surprise, I stopped in mid-sentence as I entered the class room, then looking Susan right in the eye, I continued with my play acting. "Oh, I'm sorry Miss Ames, I didn't know you had company. Do you want me to leave or should I get back to work? I promise I won't waste any more time if you'll just give me another chance."

Now it was up to Susan. For a moment, she looked at me and then at the three seniors, actually graduates. Then, with just a slight nod of comprehension, she said, "Gentlemen, this is my neighbor, John. He does work for me around the house. I hired him to help me prepare my classroom for repainting, in spite of the fact that he has not been very reliable of late because he promised me that he would mend his ways. He was warned about the consequences should he fail to do so. Unfortunately, he has let me down again and as soon as I have finished talking with you, he is going to be punished!"

Then, looking directly at me, she said, "John, tell my former students what's going to happen as soon as they leave."

"Please Miss Ames, don't embarrass me like that. Can't we just keep this between the two of us?"

"John, if you had taken more pride in your work your own pride wouldn't be compromised now. But if it makes you feel any better, the reason I want these young men to hear this is so that they will know what would, and should, have happened to them for their own bad behavior this past school year, if only I had had the authority. Now do what I tell you or you'll find your punishment increased!"

© Steve Timmons
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