It was amazing the sort of stupid questions a girl got asked when she just had a school paddling, especially from the boys. I remember one match day when one of our cheerleaders named Molly was sent to the office for ‘class disruption’. We were obviously all a bit excited and she had let out a loud guffaw in the middle of the lesson, which had annoyed the teacher. Perhaps she might have got away with it if the class hadn’t been on its third warning and if she hadn’t have shown attitude while being told off; but as it was she was dispatched to the office with a note and we had no doubt that during her visit her shapely butt might suffer.

She was certainly out of luck as the vice principal she saw happened to be Ms C, who was a somewhat humorless lady, who seemed to believe that students were a nuisance in general and that cheerleaders were a particular bane to her life. Hence Molly was soon told to bend over for three swats of the paddle plus one extra as she’d already been paddled before that year. During what followed, she no doubt discovered (as I had done on a previous occasion) that a cheerleader uniform did not offer much protection to a teenage bottom against the paddle!

So, when Molly returned to class it was with a very red face and tears in her eyes. In fact, every eye was upon her as she took her seat very gingerly on what was no doubt a burning bottom. She kept trying to suppress a sob as she wriggled miserably on her chair for the rest of the class. Never do chairs seem so hard or classes so long than when a girl is sitting on a freshly paddled behind!
Thankfully, it was quite near the end of the class and the bell gave Molly the chance to get up and rub her butt and wriggle while a few of the kids gathered round her to sympathise or smile.

“Bad luck,” said a friend.

“It was mean,” said another girl. “You didn’t do a lot wrong.”

Molly nodded to acknowledge the sympathy but kept on rubbing and wriggling.

Just then one of the boys stuck his pimply face in and said to Molly that most inane of all questions to someone whose butt has just been paddled: “Did it hurt?”

It was difficult to tell whether it was sympathy or mockery, but Molly’s reaction was fury. Her eyes blazed as she said: “Hurt? Oh no! In fact I quite liked it! I’m rubbing myself like this because it was so freaking nice!” Then after pausing for breath she yelled into the pimply face in front of her: “OF COURSE IT HURT, YOU STUPID MORON!”

After which the pimply face retreated in terror and Molly’s general remarks were limited to, “Ow!” and “Wow!” and “Ouach!” for some time as she wriggled and rubbed.

I sympathised with her, knowing from experience that later on during the match her butt would remind her of the paddling every time she jumped. She could have well done without stupid questions!