It's the end of my senior year, just weeks until graduation, and seeing that most of my work is finished, I've been finding it hard to care. I turned 18 a couple of months ago and despite my efforts, I haven't been able to convince my mom to let me take the GED.
I don't want to be here and why should I hide it? I've been rolling into class late a lot, sometimes not bothering to show up at all. I had a feeling it'd catch up to me eventually, so I just roll my eyes and shake my head when I get called into your office.
I stride down the empty hallway toward the office, where your matronly secretary scowls and ushers me directly into your presence, then sharply closes the door behind me. You are the headmaster and, judging by your cold, appraising stare from across your imposing wood desk, you are not pleased. I sit down in an ancient leather chair and and roll my eyes slightly as you begin to lecture me on my disregard for the rules and the importance of being on time. You stand and tell me that I've been warned plenty of times and since it's obvious that the niceties have failed, it is time for more serious punishment.
I raise an eyebrow, at least until you pull a ruler from your desk drawer, and then I blink. I look up at your face to gauge your seriousness as you slightly bend the ruler, showing me that it is rigid, yet somewhat flexible, then slap it quickly against your palm. It dawns on me what you intend and I swallow hard as I realize that that ruler probably is going to hurt quite a bit.
You look at me, eyes narrowed and say, "Naughty girls who flaunt the rules get their backsides reddened." You smack your palm with the ruler again, this time more forcefully. "Stand up and bend over my desk, this instant."
As I move to obey, my mind begins to race. My cheeks flush with embarrassment, knowing that you are going to spank me. I step in front of the desk and lean forward over it, my ass in the air and my breasts feeling the cool wood through my shirt. I hide my burning face and hear the swish of clothing as you move closer to me. I feel you lift the hem of my skirt over my ass and onto my back. My cheeks burn redder as I envision the now-clear view of my panties and everything underneath.
The intervening seconds feel like an eternity as I wait anxiously for your next move. I'm in the process of wondering, and then you bring the ruler down on my ass. I was right; it really stings and I grit my teeth. You raise your arm and bring it down in the same spot several more times, creating an intensely sensitive and painful spot. I cry out a little, involuntarily.
"Bad behavior does not go unpunished," you lecture, and bring the ruler down again, this time on the other cheek.