Busy with my daily paperwork, the sudden knock at my door startles me. Looking up I see you standing in the doorway. "You wanted to see me, Father Carl?" My mind starts running, why had a called you down to my office? By my recollection, there has never been a time in all four years you have spent at my school for me to have reason to see you. Motioning for you to enter, I search for the referral form on my desk. You take a seat opposite me at my desk and cross your legs. Not for the first time, I find myself questioning my choice of profession. Some of you young ladies have such succulent bodies that it is difficult at times to remember that I am a priest, with the required vows in place. Ah yes here it is. I slowly read and reread the referral form I'm holding, not believing what it says.
"It says here that your bus driver this morning, a Mr. Mehalic, caught you with some, umm, rather questionable materials. Yes, here they are. Would you mind telling me exactly what you thought you were doing bringing items like these to school with you?" I say holding up several pornographic magazines.
"I found them in my father's study, and a couple of the girls and I were curious as to what this whole sex thing was all about, why the boys seem to want it so much, so we were gonna get together after school and take a look at them." As you are speaking I flip through one of the magazines and am somewhat shocked at the content. A quick look at the others shows they are all more or less the same; somewhat older men having sexual intercourse with younger, well endowed women, in some cases appearing to be so young I'd almost have to call them girls.
"Have you yet looked at these magazines, Miss Miller?"
"I took a quick glance, yes, right when I found them," your face blushing an your eyes looking towards the floor.
"And what did you think of what you saw in them?"
"Well it was a new weird feeling, something I'd never experienced before. I started to get a tingly feeling running through my body. I don't understand it, Father Carl. What is it all about?"
I happen to look across the desk at you and notice that your blush has now spread down your neck and is creeping under the collar of your white cotton blouse. My own stiff white collar starts to fell a little tight. "How old are now, Miss Miller?" Knowing I was treading on thin ice, I still had to know the answer to that one question.
"I just turned 18 last week."
"Well, I suppose that at your age, you are going to begin having questions about your body and the changes that have been going on over the last couple years." I can't help but notice that your body is well past the 'starting' phase of development, your amble breasts stretching the confines of your blouse, your stocking-clad legs stretching out from the hem of your standard issue plaid skirt; the everyday uniform of most female students at a Catholic High School. "However, I think you would be better off discussing them with your mother, or if that makes you uncomfortable, I know that Mrs. Potter, the school nurse, is fully prepared to handle these types of talks."
"OK, thanks Father Carl. Is that all then?" you ask, as you rise from your seat.
"I'm afraid not, Miss Miller. While I can understand your curiosity about what you found, it is still against school rules to bring such items on campus. Even with your spotless record up until now, I would be remiss if I did not punish you." You slump back down into our chair, dreading my next words. "And as you know, the only form of punishment available to me is paddling. I can only determine how much, and in what form."
"Please no, Father Carl, my parents would kill me if they found out about any of this."
"Well young lady, you should have thought about that before you tried to bring a banned item onto school grounds. Now I'm afraid I have to do this so why don't we just get it over with as quickly as possible." I motion you over to The Paddling Stand, a section of an old church railing about 3 feet long and 3 feet high. The thought was that seeing this holy relic would hopefully bring home the seriousness of whatever misdemeanor had brought you to my office. "I think that in light of the fact that is your first visit to my office in almost four complete years of school, we can say that 5 firm strokes, with the bare hand rather than my paddle should suffice. Don't you agree Miss Miller?"
"I suppose so, Father Carl. You know best." I instruct you how to assume the proper position; bending over the railing, your stomach resting on the top, arms reaching down to grab the base on the other side. Before doing so, you demurely pull your skirt a little lower on your thighs.
I move into position, beside the Stand, and raise my right hand high over my head, "I hope you will seriously ponder your actions as I mete out your punishment." My arm flies down and I make contact with your skirt-covered back side . . .
SMACK
Again and again I raise my arm, only to send my hand in a quick decent to your rump . . .
SMACK SMACK SMACK