by Katie Bradford
Rachel hugged her schoolbooks close to her chest as she kicked the rock in front of her. Tears had already stained her cheeks with long white streaks and she was trying her best to keep any more from coming. She was almost home and the last thing she wanted to do was explain why she had been crying.
If that stupid Tracie Babcock didn't leave her the hell alone, the girl was going to end up in a body cast. Rachel scowled to herself, kicking the rock extra hard. It had been Tracie's fault that they'd ended up in the office again that afternoon for fighting. It had been their third referral in a nine-week period so they'd gotten their tails busted along with a note to carry home to be signed by their parents.
The fight, as usual, had been about Rachel's father. John Marshall had just gotten out of prison a few months before... but that hadn't been the beginning of Tracie's taunting. No... Rachel had been putting up with Tracie's insults ever since her father had been convicted four years earlier... convicted of driving recklessly for the fifth time while intoxicated.
And although Rachel wasn't very proud of her father, she could hardly allow that little twit to talk about him like he was trash. Of course Tracie didn't stop with just her father either... she lambasted Rachel's whole family.
Rachel couldn't help it if her family didn't live on easy street like Tracie's did. Shit... the girl's father was the president of the First National Bank. Tracie got everything she wanted. Sometimes, life just didn't seem very fair. But as Rachel's mother had pointed out to her many times over the last several years... life wasn't always fair.
Her poor mother worked like a Trojan. Naomi Marshall had been a secretary for Mr. Jackson down at the power plant for years. Her pay wasn't much but it kept the family afloat along with the meager wages her father brought in from doing odd jobs around the area. Naomi was also a very devout Christian woman, taking her daughters to church religiously every Sunday. Of course John usually had a reason for not attending church with his family... not good ones, but he had reasons.
Something else her mother was... was very pedantic about the girls' schooling. As busy as she was with her job and home, Naomi still found the time to intervene in their education. And heaven forbid if either one of them got in trouble with their teacher or worse yet... sent to the office for a paddling! The girls knew if they were spanked at school, they might as well prepare for another walloping at home.
As Rachel rounded the final corner to her house, she thought back to Tracie and the principal's office. The fight had taken place right after she and Janie had finished lunch that day. They'd gone outside like normal waiting for their next class when Tracie and her posse came sidling up beside them.
"Well look, Mags," Tracie sneered, looking over at Rachel. "If it isn't Princess Rags. Been to Goodwill lately Rachel? I'm pretty sure my mother has made some donations you might like."
"Shut up, bitchcock," Rachel replied, trying to move away.
"Ah don't be embarrassed," Tracie continued badgering. "It's not your fault your old man is a loser and can't keep a job. My mom said he's just a worthless old drunk."
Seeing the anger in her friend's eyes, Janie stepped in. "Leave her alone, Tracie. There's no cause for..."
Pushing up against Janie, Tracie interrupted, "You don't dress much better, Little Orphan Jane."
"Go to hell, Tracie," Rachel snapped icily. "At least my dad doesn't steal..."
"Why you..." Tracie clenched her teeth as she pushed Rachel off balance making her fall flat on her butt. "My dad is the most honest man alive! He's never been in prison like your old man!"
Well that's all it took for Rachel to totally lose it. She lit into Tracie like a bat out of hell. Both girls were on the ground jabbing at each other, oblivious as to what was going on around them. Of course a group of students quickly formed around them chanting 'fight, fight, fight', which just seemed to spur them both on.
It hadn't taken long for one of the teachers to see what was happening and put an end to the whole thing, but by then both girls had gotten in several good punches. Tracie had come out far worse than Rachel as she had a bloody nose and a torn shirt. Rachel seemed to escape with just a few minor bruises to her arm and legs.
Despite their injuries, both girls were hauled off to the office where they were quickly ushered in to see Mr. Adkins.
After a brief lecture had been given to the girls about respecting one another, which neither girl paid much attention to, Mr. Adkins opened the bottom drawer of his desk and took out the school paddle and placed it on his desk.
"This is the third time you girls have been sent to my office for your petty behavior towards one another. Apparently just talking does no good so we will use the board of education this time. And if this doesn't get through to either of you, next time it will be expulsion. I sincerely doubt either parent would be very appreciative of that, do you think?"
Rachel and Tracie had both muttered, "No Sir," with their heads bowed low.
"Who'd like to be first?" Mr. Adkins asked, scowling from one girl to the other.
Before Rachel could even lift her head to volunteer valiantly to go first, she heard Tracie's sickening syrupy voice.
"Even though it wasn't really my fault, I'll go first, Mr. Adkins."
"Like hell it wasn't your fault, bitch!" Rachel declared forgetting where she was and what was about to happen. "You're the one who pushed me down!"
"Miss Marshall!" Mr. Adkins frowned. "You will not use that kind of language in my office, understood?"
Horrified that she had said what she had in front of the principal, Rachel quickly confirmed that she understood perfectly by nodding her head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Adkins, but she makes me so mad with all her lying!"
Shaking his head, Mr. Adkins replied, "Still... language like that has no place on school grounds... or anywhere else for that matter," he added disgustedly.
"Yes Sir," Rachel replied edgily. She didn't dare glance over at Tracie who was most likely enjoying the direction the conversation had taken.
Once more concentrating on the matter at hand, Mr. Adkins looked over at Tracie and snapped, "Bend over and put your hands on your knees, young lady."
Without a word, Tracie gazed with contempt over at Rachel and then positioned herself as directed by principal. If Rachel hadn't been faced with the same fate in a matter of minutes, she would have enjoyed Tracie's predicament. But as it was, she watched with horror as Mr. Adkins picked up the thick, heavy paddle from his desk and tapped Tracie's rather wiggly bottom.
Ten solid smacks were applied to the girl's jean clad bottom without Tracie so much as batting an eyelid, and Rachel was determined to be just as stoical when it was her turn.
"Up Miss Babcock and stand over there." He pointed to a spot by his desk before looking over at Rachel. "Same position, Miss Marshall... bend over with your hands on your knees."
Swallowing hard, Rachel took the appointed position and gritted her teeth. She'd already been subjected to one of Mr. Adkins' paddlings and knew he was no novice. Her jeans pressed tightly against her protruding bottom as she bent over. Determined not to make a sound, Rachel gripped her knees tightly as she felt the wood tapping the back of her pants.
After several rather hard taps, Mr. Adkins lifted the paddle and slammed it forcefully across both cheeks. The second swat was just as rigorous. To Rachel it seemed he was unfairly smacking her harder than he had Tracie but she still managed to stay in place.
However, much to her horror, towards the end of the ten swats, Rachel cried out in pain and nearly moved out of position. Fortunately, her hands remained on her knees, otherwise she knew Mr. Adkins would have repeated the lick.
Eventually the whole thing was over and the girls were handed a note to take home. They were told if the notes weren't brought back first thing the next morning, they would not only be calling their parents but the paddle would once more be scalding their behinds.
The rest of the day passed quickly for Rachel. She was not at all anxious to get home that afternoon. Explaining to her parents about what had happened that day was going to be very difficult... especially since she could plan on another licking!
Pausing only briefly at the front door, Rachel sighed heavily and walked into the house. Nothing seemed to be amiss. Smells of dinner cooking filled the air, indicating her mother was in the kitchen. Her dad, as usual, was stretched out in his easy chair in front of the boob tube, with her younger sister sprawled lazily on the couch. Nothing indicated that before the evening was over, her ass would be throbbing.
"I'm home," Rachel announced uneasily while closing the door behind her.
"Hey Rach," Livy, her twelve-year-old sister greeted. "Why so late today? You're usually home way before now."
"Oh," Rachel paused trying to think of a reason to give her sister other than just not wanting to come home. "Just hanging with Janie. I didn't realize it was almost supper time."
Livy shrugged. "You missed a good episode of Just Jordan. I'd never seen it before."
Rachel plopped down on the couch next to her sister and snickered. "Oh well, I'm sure there will be a rerun soon enough." Leaning her head on Livy's shoulder, she looked over at her dad who'd hardly moved a muscle since she'd walked in and said, "Hi Daddy. How was your day? Find any good jobs?"
Mr. Marshall smiled tiredly. "Yeah baby I had several jobs lined up for today. I'm kind of tired too. Guess I'm just gettin' plain old, huh?" he chortled.
"You're only forty-one." Rachel shook her head. "You're not old. Everyone gets tired after working all day."
"How was school today?" Mr. Marshall asked.
Swallowing hard, Rachel lifted her head and stared at the television, "Okay I guess. School is school."
Mr. Marshall laughed. "Well I guess that's how most kids feel."
"Girls," Mrs. Marshall called from the kitchen, "I need you to come set the table for dinner please."
Groaning, both girls scrambled off the couch and headed towards the kitchen. It was nothing new, it was always their job to make sure the table was set before dinner and clean up the kitchen afterwards, so they were used to the routine. However, it still was a pain in the butt.
Once they entered the kitchen Mrs. Marshall took the meatloaf out of the oven and looked over at Rachel. "Homework tonight, Rachel?"
"Yes ma'am... a little algebra," she replied, opening the cupboard and taking down four dinner plates and setting them on the counter.
Mrs. Marshall nodded. "Better get to it right after dinner. Why are you so late getting home?"
Livy, who'd already heard her sister's explanation, took the silverware and began setting the table.
"Just hanging with Janie," Rachel shrugged.
"No other reason?" Mrs. Marshall asked suspiciously.
Rachel hated it when her mother questioned her like this. She could never tell exactly what her mother knew. She was beginning to wonder if the school had called home as well as sending the damn note! She wouldn't put it past Mr. Adkins to do something like that.
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