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SOUTHERN EXPOSURE: SEASON 4

by Steve Timmons


Episode 17: Ann at School, Hell Week

It was one of those odd little coincidences of life that on the very same Friday evening that I was receiving my second tutorial at the expert hands of Miss Susan Ames, my sister Ann was approaching the end of Hell Week at State College. I didn't get the details until she came home for the summer but as it fits the time line I thought that I would include her story here.

Ann is my irrepressible older sister. Just nineteen and in her freshman year at my mom's former college (which will also be the college I will be attending in the future), she had left a wide swath of spanking and paddling mayhem in her wake when she returned to school after her spring break; my seventeenth birthday present from her, a 'gift certificate' for a series of personal spanking and sex education tutorials from Susan, being the just latest example of the workings of her mischievous mind.

Not that I'm really complaining, mind you. In spite of the fact that it took my tail better than a week to fully recover from Susan's vigorous attention as she treated me to the experience of Aunt Cynthia's so-called Spanking School. Clearly sensing my keen interest in the story of Paul Robertson, her fourteen year old volunteer when she qualified as an Ames family babysitter, she saw to it that I knew firsthand exactly what it was like for him, right down to the ice cream and special dinner!

In fairness, I suppose that I did bring it on myself with my eagerness to hear all the details and, on some level perhaps, I might even have been a little envious that another teenage boy had been the object of her spanking attention before me, even if it was so long ago. Susan's very good at reading people and might well have picked up on my feelings, no matter how well I thought I'd disguised them. Then again, she might have done it just because she was in the mood, and that gift certificate was all the excuse she needed.

Whatever the truth, I would say that it was one of those situations in life where you chalk it up to experience and say to yourself, 'I'm glad I did that but I'm in no rush to do it again.' By the end of the fourth spanking, I was one very sore-bottomed teenager. At least I didn't completely disgrace myself, if I can take her words of praise at face value, and the dinner and ice cream were pretty good, too! And, fortunately, she did save me the long bike ride home by driving me herself. The other really nice thing she did was to mow the lawn herself the next day which spared me the dismal prospect of parking my tender butt on the seat of that lawn tractor for the better part of three hours.

So, with all of that in mind, it was a bit ironic that Ann, who was at least an accessory before the fact in that episode, was having her own tail feathers singed at practically the exact same time as Hell Week was drawing to a close. I thought her story was pretty interesting and I'll try to reconstruct it as faithfully as I can from the many and often highly graphic details she shared with Susan and me when she came home for the summer.

Hell Week actually began on a Saturday. The pledges were all rousted out of bed at 6am. First, they were required to dress in the special Kappa House Hell Week uniform which consisted of thong panties worn under very tight, very thin and very skimpy shorts. Up top, they wore white Kappa Pledge tee shirts, tied off at the midriff, without bras. They were informed that this would be their attire in house and around the grounds for the duration of Hell Week.

Their first task of the day was to prepare breakfast for all the sisters in the house. After that was done and the kitchen clean up completed, the pledges were divided into working parties and assigned their jobs. One group was directed to clean the house from top to bottom. Another was sent outside to tend to the yard work. The third was assigned car wash duty, which included not only the automobiles of the actives but also of all the frat brothers who cared to come by. I understand that some of their cars were washed more than once.

Needless to say, the girls washing cars got soaking wet in a hurry. Dressed as they were, they made quite a fetching sight. While they worked, the brothers were on hand with their paddles to provide extra incentive for the girls to do a good job. The sound of those paddles swatting against shapely wet female bottoms was audible for half a block, as were the cries of shock and pain from the victims. Ann told me later that the impact of those paddles on her bottom, tightly encased in thin wet shorts, was astounding.

The girls on yard duty came in for their share, as well. They, too, were carefully supervised by the frat brothers and, as they were obviously getting hot, sweaty and dirty from their work in the bright warm sunshine, those good gentlemen made it a point to hose them down frequently. Consequently, they were no better off than their sisters washing cars when the paddles swatted their cute behinds.

The girls working inside counted themselves lucky as they saw their fellow pledges outside become the principal source of entertainment on the street. Their relief was short lived as they were sent out to join them as soon as the inside work was done. Before the Pledge Mistress finally called a halt to the festivities, all the girls were grubby from head to toe, soaking wet and possessors of very stinging bottoms.

After taking showers and changing into fresh uniforms, it was time to prepare dinner for the house. That evening, the frat brothers were back again for a party at which the pledges, wearing the same uniforms, served as waitresses. Any pledge deemed guilty of a mistake or of not showing the proper respect for her betters was ordered to assume the position and was awarded swats by the offended party. Because of the big crowd in tight quarters, the paddles used on this occasion were smaller, shaped something like a square cheese board with a handle, measuring 12" long by 4-1/2 wide by " thick. Even so, they packed a wallop. As all of the girls got plenty of smacks, by the end of the evening there were stinging red bottoms all around.

To finish the day off right, all of the pledges were treated to over the knee, bare bottom hairbrush spankings from their big sisters, given to make up for any undetected misbehavior during the day and to remind them of their rightful place in the house.

Sunday was a quiet day, relatively speaking. Although required to be in 'uniform', the pledges were encouraged to study when they were not called on to answer the door and serve refreshments for a seemingly endless stream of young gentlemen calling on the actives. Like Saturday, the night ended with a bedtime spanking for the pledges from their big sisters.

Monday, of course was a regular class day. It was also the first day that the pledges were required to carry their paddles and log books with them whenever they were outside of the house between noon and 6pm. Public spot paddlings were restricted to those hours. Rules also prohibited causing any pledge to be late for class or a faculty appointment and limited swats to three per paddling, no matter how many violations had been detected. Pledges were further protected by limiting paddlings to no more than three per sixty minute period, as noted in the log books. Still, an unlucky pledge could find herself receiving as many as 18 spot paddlings in the course of an afternoon.

The pledge uniform for the week, outside of the house, was the same full size white Kappa Pledge tee shirt, this time with a bra. A pleated skirt, hemmed two inches above the knee, in the house colors was worn over a full cut pair of thin panties, also in the house colors, along with white ankle socks and sneakers to complete the ensemble.

Needless to say, at high noon, the frat brothers were out in force and on the prowl for the sorority pledges and vice versa, by the way, for the sorority sisters were just as eager to take advantage of the frat pledges... that is those who were unlucky enough to be without a 'Paddle Pass'.

The Paddle Pass was like a get out of jail free card, or a get out of paddling card, if you prefer. The origin of the idea has long since been lost in the misty past but in its current form, the system worked as follows: Paddle Passes could only be purchased from members of the Pan-Hellenic Council which was composed of all the Presidents and Vice Presidents of the fraternities and sororities on campus. During Hell Week, council members wore large blue and white badges for identification.

The number of passes that any one pledge could purchase was limited to three and Paddle Passes were not bought for money. They were paid for by over the knee bare bottom spanks, starting at the rate of 10 spanks per hour of the pass. For the second pass, the rate went up to 15 spanks and for the third, 20. Oh, and passes could only be purchased from a member of the opposite sex.

The noon hour found Ann in the Student Union cafeteria about to have lunch. As she sat down at her table, all decked out in her little uniform, she was joined by a junior named Mike Hayes. Ann was not surprised to see Mike as he had made it a point to be around her quite frequently, sitting with her in the Student Union, in the library, and in the one class they had together. He would often appear at her side when she was walking across the campus and, during the early darkness of the long winter nights, he had been there when she left the library or her last class to see to it that she got safely back to Kappa House.

You would almost think that they were dating but, of course, solo dating was not allowed during the pledge period. That didn't prevent Mike from doing his best to monopolize her time at the Fraternity and Sorority house socials that pledges were not only allowed but pretty much expected to attend. He had even been hovering unobtrusively in the background by Kappa House on Saturday as the pledges had been busy with the car wash. Just doing his job as a Council member to ensure that no one over stepped the boundaries he would have said if anyone asked why he was there.

For her part, from the very first, Ann had been attracted to the tall, quiet, handsome young man and the more he seemed to be around, the more she liked it. She knew he was a Civil Engineering major. She did not know he was on a full academic scholarship and carried a 4.0 GPA. She knew he was on the football team. She did not know that he had been a freshman walk-on who was now co-captain and would be the likely starting quarterback next fall. She knew he was in the fraternity with which Kappa had a cooperative relationship, especially for initiation purposes. She did not know that he was member of the Council until the moment he sat down at her table in the cafeteria wearing his Council badge.



© Steve Timmons
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.