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PADDLED IN HIGH SCHOOL

by Lisa Grant


The Principal's Son

The school seemed eerily quiet when it was empty. It was Saturday lunchtime and even the miscreants from Saturday School (a sort of extended detention) had gone home. All but one that is. Kirsten Carter found it almost creepy, the echoing click-clack of her high heels on the polished wooden floor as she furtively made her way along the hall to the admin office. She wouldn't have normally worn high heels to school but, as this was Saturday School, she had an afternoon date soon afterwards with a boy she'd just met, so she wanted to look her best. She'd put on the most daring clothes she thought she'd get away with in Saturday School: a short, sleeveless, low-cut pastel lilac mini-dress with sheer white 'knee-highs' and white stiletto heeled shoes that made her legs look awesome. Her shoulder length glossy ginger blonde hair was scraped back and held in place with a matching lilac Alice band. Very retro. Very seventies.

Already the guilt of her mission was causing her pulse to race. Still, no one was here. No one would ever know. The pretty ginger-blonde girl kept reassuring herself of these facts as she walked into the office and logged on to the master computer. Since she'd been in her senior year she'd been helping out as an occasional admin assistant and office aide, so she knew the passwords to get herself into the mainframe student database. Her hands were trembling at the thought of the consequences of being caught as she hurriedly punched keys on the keyboard.

Error! Password incorrect. Try again.

Kirsten cursed. In her nervous state she must have hit a wrong key. She typed in the password a second time, more carefully. Suddenly, the computer screen sprang to life. Success! At last!

Hurriedly, she went to the 12th grade folder and started scrolling down to find her name... Carter, Kirsten. She nervously double-clicked on her name and up came her file. Now all she had to do was delete the disciplinary referral that had led to her Saturday School detention and her parents would never find out about it. Kirsten's parents thought she was already on her date, which is why she couldn't go home to get changed in between times. If they found out that she'd been put in Saturday School for skipping classes they'd go crazy! When her end of year High School report had arrived home at the end of her 11th grade and her dad had seen the list of disciplinary referrals, he went mad with her, but it was the ISS for skipping classes that had really made him boil.

"If you can't be bothered to go to school, young lady, then you can get out and earn your keep!" he'd said. And that's when he'd taken a hairbrush to her behind. God, it was so humiliating at seventeen to be face down over her dad's knee, her pants down round her knees, being spanked like a kid. And it wasn't just the humiliation - it had darned well hurt too! He'd really spanked her hard, and that big ole wooden hairbrush stung like holy hell!

There it was... Disciplinary referral. Skipping class. Saturday School. Quickly, she hit 'Delete' and it was gone! Fantastic! While she was in there she decided to remove two other referrals she'd had the previous semester: one for disrupting class and one for repeated tardies, both of which had led to detentions. Might as well have a clean slate, she decided. Quickly, quickly! she was saying to herself as she hit 'Delete' for the third time.

Kirsten couldn't help herself. She squealed out loud when the office door opened noisily. She froze in horror, her mouth dropping wide open. She couldn't have looked more guilty if she'd tried.

The handsome young man's face looked vaguely familiar to Kirsten. At least he definitely wasn't a teacher. Thank God! she thought. He looked as surprised as she did to see someone else in the admin office at this time on a Saturday.

For a few moments they just stared at one another. The young man broke the silence first.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"Err... errmm... I'm just here for... well I help out in the admin office, and the Principal, Mr Robinson, asked me if I'd come in today to help him with... some things... and..." Kirsten stammered.

"He asked you to come in today did he? To help him?"

"Yes, that's right, sir... He'll be back any minute... but I'm all finished, so I'll just shut this thing down and get off."

"That's strange, because I thought my father was away on a fishing trip for the weekend."

Oh shit! thought the pretty senior, blushing bright red. He's the Principal's son! Desperately, she tried to think of a way to back-track, but no words would come out at all; she just sat there gold-fishing with her full-lipped mouth.

"What's your name?" the young man asked curtly.

"Kirsten Carter, sir... I mean, Mr... err, Robinson," she blurted out, suddenly wishing she'd made up a false name.

"John," he said, more kindly. "My name's John."

The young man walked towards the desk where she was sitting. Kirsten thought he was rather good looking. Only probably about four or five years older than her too. He was tall, self-assured and quite ruggedly handsome. Real cute in fact!

"Let's take a look at what you're doing," he said, moving swiftly behind the seated girl.

"Oh no, you can't do that," she said, fumbling to shut down the computer. "It's confidential."

"Kirsten Carter! - That's your own file... What exactly are you up to? Just hit the 'undo' key a moment."

"Oh no, I can't."

"Do as I say! Hit 'undo'," he snapped suddenly, making Kirsten's stomach do flip-flops.

Reluctantly, she clicked on the 'undo' icon on the computer and immediately her disciplinary referral for repeated tardies leapt back on to the screen.

"I get it," said the young man knowingly, immediately grasping the situation. He could smell that delicious clean smell that a girl's hair has when it's just been shampooed, and he couldn't help but notice the soft roundness of her well-developed breasts and her white bra, which he could see down the top of her low-cut dress as he leaned over the pretty girl's shoulder. He tutted somewhat patronisingly. "Kirsten Carter appears to be a fraud expert as well as a liar!"

"I can explain," blurted Kirsten, knowing darned well she couldn't.

"You don't need to. I think I've just about grasped it. You're deleting all traces of your criminal record. Am I right? Hit 'undo' again, young lady."

Kirsten's whole body slumped as she sighed and clicked on the 'undo' icon a second time. Back up on the screen popped her referral for disrupting class.

"And again."

Totally crestfallen, she clicked once again and the referral for skipping class that had led to today's Saturday School reappeared, along with the probability of another painful spanking from her father at the end of the year.

"You have been a bad little girl, haven't you? Any more?"

"No. That's it," Kirsten pouted sulkily.

"Better hit 'Save' then hadn't you?"

Kirsten tutted and slowly clicked on the 'Save' icon, putting her poor disciplinary record right back where it started.

"I don't think my father asked you to do that now, did he? In fact I can't see that he will be too pleased about it somehow. Do you, Kirsten Carter?"

"Oh but you don't have to tell him!" Kirsten whined, spinning round on the swivel chair to face him with a desperate pleading look on her innocent young face.

"Can you give me one good reason why I shouldn't?" he asked, narrowing his gaze, stepping back and looking down at the short lilac mini-dress that had ridden well up her long lusciously pale, slightly freckled bare thighs.

Kirsten was just wondering whether she dare suggest a blow-job. After all, her captor, Mr Robinson Junior, 'John', was pretty good looking, and it would all be over quite quickly. It had been before, in her very limited experience. It would certainly take his mind off reporting her to his dad. She'd really made an ex-boyfriend's eyes roll and his toes curl the only time she'd ever given one before!

John, meanwhile, was eyeing his frightened quarry. 12th grade. Well into the spring semester, so probably eighteen. Pretty girl too. Great legs! he mused, eyeing her very shapely thighs again. He found the translucent white knee-highs and high heeled shoes a real turn-on. Better not suggest a blow-job! he thought to himself. This lascivious thought made him feel guilty with a lovely young wife at home, barely two years older than the girl he was ogling.

"What would my father say?" he asked, pondering the dilemma before him.

"Oh please don't tell him!" Kirsten pleaded, seeing where his eyes were straying, and crossing her legs sexily to reveal even more bare thigh. She certainly knew where a man's weaknesses lay, and she was a well-practised and outrageous flirt.

John ignored her plea, but couldn't fail to be unmoved by her wide-eyed fluttering eyelashes and the arousing way she was chewing her bottom lip, and toying with the short hem of her dress.

"Let's put myself in his position. What would I do with you if I were him? I can just see his face... Stand up and come here!'" he boomed in a stern voice.

Kirsten giggled nervously. "That's quite like him."

"I said come here, young lady!" he boomed again, stepping back into the centre of the office and putting on the decidedly pompous air of the great man.

For some inexplicable reason the pretty ginger-haired girl obeyed and walked over to face him, her balefully blinking green eyes suddenly more anxious than ever.

"Look no harm's been done. Everything's back as it was. Could you forget all about it if we... well that is, if I..."

John, suddenly quite turned on by the power of the situation, failed to recognise what she was hinting at, and began to pace round the pretty delinquent in the short lilac dress.

"Breaking and entering the admin office, tampering with vital school data, falsifying your disciplinary record. These are very serious infractions, Miss Carter!" Then he let his voice soften again. "What do YOU think he'd do, Kirsten?"

"Another Saturday School I suppose," she mumbled not too convincingly, thinking wryly that a blow-job certainly wouldn't suffice with their strict Principal.

"Huh!" snorted John. "Saturday School?! I'd expel you! And so will my father just as soon as he hears about this when he gets back."

Deep down Kirsten knew that to be the truth, and as she thought about the consequences and the disgrace of that nightmare scenario, a small tear rolled down her cheek and she sniffed loudly.

"It's no good crying, Kirsten," the young man said, not unkindly. "You've got it coming to you. You've been really dumb! What else can I do? Now if you were a boy at my high school you might have gotten away with licks. But they never paddled girls. Good job too - they really let you have it!"

"Huh! They do here!" said Kirsten.

John did a double-take and looked incredulous. "What? The old man paddles you girls?"

"Not me. I always take the detention or ISS option, but he's paddled one of my friends. Said it hurt real bad too."

"The old son of a gun!" said John, slapping his thigh.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him that made his heart skip a beat. He paced round the misbehaved 12th grader one more time, eyed the firm swell of her very curvy jutting bottom under her mini-dress and cleared his throat.

"So you normally take the detention option against licks, but if it was expulsion or licks, what then?"



© Lisa Grant
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.