by Frank Martinet
First Encounter
The door to the classroom burst open and Prudence Graham strode through. The young woman behind the desk in the corner jumped up, alarmed.
"Are you Miss Snyder?" demanded the regal lady. She was tall and buxom with milk-white skin and long elegant jet-black hair. Her outfit looked more appropriate to a red carpet affair than a visit to a school, and the amount of cleavage she had on display would have been vulgar on a 20-year-old.
Prudence was still a beauty, though not immune to age, which mostly showed as lines around her eyes and a heavier figure than in her lean youth. She was at least 50, but looked 40, partly due to good genes, partly to sheer force of will, and mainly because she was wealthy and could afford to always look good.
"Yes ma'am," said the petite teacher. She was slender with delicate features and short dark hair. More cute than beautiful, she could be imposing to a small child, but she faded like a flower before the grand lady glaring at her.
"You're the one who spanked my granddaughter."
It was a statement, not a question, but the teacher answered it anyway. "Yes ma'am. You must be Lauren's grandmother. I guess the stories I heard were true."
"Ah. My reputation proceeds me. Then you know what you must do."
"Unspank your granddaughter?" grinned Miss Snyder.
The visitor did not smile or see any humor in the comment. Coldly she barked, "You will apologize to Lauren. And you will submit to a caning from her. Bare bottomed, in front of the class, just the way you spanked her."
The teacher gapped. "Wow, you really are a piece of work. That's ridiculous. Your granddaughter was being rude and disturbing the entire class and fully deserved that spanking. I'm not apologizing for that. And I'm certainly not letting a teenager cane me!"
"Then I shall have to speak with the school board. Several of them are close personal friends." This was pronounced in a threatening tone, so icy it was a wonder her breath didn't freeze. "If you don't resign, you'll be terminated."
Smiling confidently, the teacher shook her head. "I don't think so, Mrs. Graham. I have a much better idea. I'm sure you'll love it."
Sharp eyes watched the young woman as she opened a drawer and took out a 22" long wooden paddle. She placed it on the table. The matriarch looked intrigued.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Does this implement look familiar?"
"It's just like the ones at my school in New Hampshire," said Prudence slowly. She blinked sluggishly, as though the memories were fogging her brain.
"I am sure you remember receiving licks from a board like this many times while you were growing up."
"Oh yes. Many times."
"You were an arrogant, ornery girl."
"Yes, I was."
"Those paddlings - on your bare bottom - did you a lot of good."
"Yes, they were excellent motivators. Painful and effective."
"I propose we revisit those days. A touch of the board for old time's sake."
Prudence colored. "At my age? Oh, I couldn't!"
"Why not? You're not so old and in excellent health. You have a sturdy constitution. You're still attractive. That backside of yours is quite padded and should able to take a sound spanking."
"That's true, but-" Mrs. Graham struggled to get the words out. She seemed conflicted, part of her wanting to disagree and part of her enthusiastic about the prospect of a return to her youth. As she hesitated, the battle faded and she smiled. "Oh, what the hell! Let's do it!"
"Let's get that dress up," commanded Miss Snyder, who watched as the dignified woman obeyed.
Prudence hitched her ankle-length dress up to her waist, exposing fine undergarments. Old-fashioned to the core, she wore a white slip, a pink girdle, and stylish French-cut lavender panties. It took several minutes to peel down all the layers, releasing the voluminous white flesh just this side of blubbery.
"Oh, this is so shameful," giggled the regal lady, blushing at her nudity. Her large bottom was naked, the fleshy cheeks wobbling as she took tentative steps toward the teacher's desk. There she leaned forward, her rump blossoming large as it thrust up into the air. She clutched the far side of the table and glanced back at the teacher.
"Are you going to spank me very hard?" she asked in a little girl voice.
"How were you spanked as a child?"
"Very hard," Prudence said softly. "It hurt so very much."
"Then I shall spank you hard as well."
"Oh dear," the woman managed, and then she yowled as the wide paddle hit her bare ass with a frightful bang and furious fire ignited her cheeks. She wagged her ass and moaned.
"My, that hurts far more than I remember!"
"That was only one spank. You're going to get a lot more before the end of the lesson. How many did you get in school?"
"Usually ten. Sometimes just five or six, and sometimes a dozen or more. But ten was about average."
"Good. But you're older now, more mature. We'll put you down for 20."
"Oh dear!" Whack! "Ouch! Ooh, that's burning something fierce!"
Whomp! Wham. Thump!
"Oh my Lord in heaven that's hot!" gasped the grandmother. Her broad hips rocked against the desk, the meaty cheeks gyrating furiously from the impact of the heavy board. Her white globes were already bright pink, the stain gradually spreading lower and out along the sides.
As the sting mounted, her face frowned, grew more serious and stubborn, and she gritted her way through several more vigorous spanks. The petite teacher was surprisingly agile and swung the long slab of pine with real verve. The grandmother hissed at the sting.
"Eyow! It's burning me up, just like in school!"
"You were often spanked in school, weren't you, Mrs. Graham. You were a naughty girl. You still are, only no one spanks you any more."
"Ouch! Yes, you're absolutely right, dear. I was a terror as a child, always in trouble, always taking down my panties for spankings. It's a shame it's been so long. Why it's been 40 years since I was last in this position."
Whack!
"Has it changed much?" asked Miss Snyder.
"Oooh. No, it's still stingy and hot. My ho-whole b-bottom is... on fire!"
Prudence gave a shiver that went through her entire body, her abundant flesh shaking like maracas. Still the paddle hit her ass, over and over, the teacher driving the board in aggressively, going well past the promised count of 20. She only stopped when the grandmother was broken down and weeping, her feet flailing off the ground, her weight pressed against the desk, and her bottom the color of strawberries.
"Oh my Lord, my poor backside," groaned the woman. She clambered off the table and reached back to cup the base of each burning cheek in a palm. The skin was feverish, the globes swollen from the spanking. She rubbed eagerly, her face twisted with anguish.
"What did you think, Mrs. Graham. As good as you remember?"
A puzzled look crossed the old woman's face and a second it looked like she couldn't remember. Then the memory flashed and she sighed, nodding. "You did excellent, dear. I believe I shed a few tears. That was quite painful."
"Good. Deserved and good for you."
"Oh, most definitely!" Prudence shook her head. "Did I really come in here demanding my granddaughter cane you?"
"You did."
"I'm so ashamed. It's Lauren who needs the spanking. She's a nasty little brat. Pretty, but mean and full of pride. I shall have to put her over my knee when I get home."
"That's an excellent idea. School punishments are most effective when supplemented with parental discipline."
"My behavior was rude and inexcusable. Will you forgive me?"
"You've been spanked, so the deed is forgotten," said Miss Snyder gallantly, her smile wide.
"Thank you so much, dear. I'm sorry to trouble you. Thank you for taking the time to discipline me." Prudence rubbed her sore hindquarters carefully. "Took me back to my school days, that's for sure!"
"Come back any time you need a refresher."
"That's so kind of you. I just may do that. The occasional red-hot bum is good for a gal."
Mrs. Graham was busy resurrecting her lowered garments. The girdle, especially, was painfully tight across her steaming buttocks. She winced, but bravely worked until everything was back in place. Panting from the effort, her huge breasts heaving, she let her dress fall back down behind and smoothed it gingerly.
She made her final goodbyes and departed. As she reached the door she hesitated, but only for a moment. Down the hall she paused again, a puzzled expression on her face. When she reached the intersection to the main corridor of the school that led to the exit, she froze, turned to look back where she'd come, and frowned.
"What the hell!" she muttered. Her bitterness grew as she fondled her still-warm backside. "Did I just let that skanky bitch paddle me?"
Confused, she started to head back, a determined look on her face. Then she stopped again, her heart beating fast with a form of fear. This was not an emotion the woman felt often. She exerted too much control on the things around her to experience it. But the memory of the paddle was fresh and she decided it was best to postpone confrontation for another day.
Outside, where her driver was patiently waiting, she sniffed the fresh air and seemed to wake up even more. "What in the world was I thinking?" she said to herself. "I was never paddled in school! Not even once!"
It was weird, because her mind was still filled with vivid images of her as a child baring her bottom and bending over for the board. She could almost feel the stingy spanks the imagery was so real. But already the memories were fading, like those of a dream upon waking.
She tried to capture them, but they vanished like a dream at daybreak, and by the time she was seated in the back of the Bentley and heading home, all she could remember was the fresh pain of her most recent paddling from Miss Snyder. That, too, seemed unreal, but only because it was so ridiculous. Had it really happened? The prickling of her buttocks against the leather seats said yes, but she wasn't convinced. Something weird was going on.
"Damn it, James," she shouted at driver. "Go slowly over those speed bumps! You're carrying sensitive cargo back here."
"Sorry, ma'am," said the man, nodding at the rear view mirror. The car eased to a gentle crawl. Prudence still chaffed at the rough ride, but that was more because her bottom was outrageously tender than because of poor driving.
Second Encounter
It was two weeks before Mrs. Prudence Graham made a reappearance at the school. This time she came prepared, entering Miss Snyder's classroom with reinforcements in the guise of her daughter, Camila.
While Camila was petite and not as imposing a woman as Prudence, she was equally arrogant, spoiled, and accustomed to getting her own way. The two together were like a speeding freight train, and a fresh teacher like Miss Snyder, only a few years out of school herself, had no chance against the onslaught.
"This is Lauren's mother, Camila," Prudence said coldly, not bothering to introduce herself. To her daughter she said, "This snide little bitch is Miss Snyder, the woman who caned your daughter for no good reason."
"I had a very good reason to cane Lauren - several of them, in fact," said Miss Snyder calmly. She did not seem worried or afraid of the two women, despite what they could do to ruin her career. "In fact, now that you bring it up, I think I'll cane her again tomorrow. I'm sure she'll be naughty. She's always naughty."
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