This was the first of only two times I misbehaved on purpose in order to get a spanking.

It was February of 1961 and I had just turned 13. I found myself thinking about
paddling quite often. On this particular day, I was really craving to be paddled, but I knew that you just don’t get it on demand. I remember the mental conflict I had within myself because I did not realize that this desire was as common as it was. I really thought something was wrong with me.

It was around 4:30 on a Friday and I was in the library instead of being outside playing with the other kids because the recess routine was becoming more and more boring. I wanted to do some casual reading so I was thumbing through the pages of the series known as ‘Childcraft’. It is essentially a kid’s encyclopedia.

It was so strange that, as I was flipping through the pages of Volume 6, I was thinking about being paddled when I came across some pages talking about schools of long ago (the 1800’s). On one page was a story describing how schoolmasters of that era conducted classes. On the flip side of the page were various illustrations showing the schoolmaster ringing a hand bell to announce that classes were starting, another one where he was teaching, and another where he was loading a furnace in the wintertime.

But the one that caught my attention was one where he was spanking a boy who was sprawled across his lap. The teacher looked as if he was really into what he was doing, although the boy looked to be uncomfortable. The more I looked at it, the more I got that feeling again.

Suddenly, a crazy idea came over me. What if I was to make up an offense just to get a paddling? I though about it for a moment, trying to weigh out the pros and cons. After a lot of devil versus angel debates, I decided to do it.

I waited a few minutes until Sister R, the librarian, left the checkout counter and went to the back room. Then I quickly ran behind the counter and took one of the small forms that said:

‘From the desk of the School Librarian’. I went back to my table, sat down and wrote a note that said: ‘I have sent Rachel Beatty to you because she said a bad word while in the library, Sincerely, Sister R.’

Then I went to the principal’s office and went inside. Bishop M was on the phone talking to someone about his daily job as a principal. Ironically, here I was to get a paddling and, about two minutes after I got inside, he made a comment that went something like: “Well, things are pretty good here at Grapevine. We don’t get too much trouble from the kids and when they do, we warm their bottoms a bit.” Then he paused for a moment, then laughed and said, “You’ve got that right.” He then started talking about his car when he noticed me standing behind him.

He looked at me with an expression that said, “What do you want?” so I handed him the note. While he continued to talk on phone he looked at the note and after a few seconds told his caller: “Well, I have to run and take care of some business, so I’ll catch you later.”

He looked at the note again, then looked at me with a frown and asked: “What did you say?”

I clasped my hands behind me, paused for a moment, then declared, “I said shit.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I could not find a book that I was looking for,” I retorted quickly.

“Well, that is not acceptable,” he responded. “I do not tolerate bad language from anyone here at Grapevine, and especially not from a child! That will be 30 swats.”

He went over to his desk, grabbed the paddle that hung from a small hook on the side, then went and grabbed one of the ‘guest’ chairs from the back wall and placed it in the center of the room. Then he did something he had not done before. He took the cloth cushion from his chair, placed it on the ‘spanking’ chair and said, “So you don’t bump your head on the seat.” That was odd; he had never done that before.

“Lower your panties and bend over and grab the rung, please,” he said as he turned and walked back to his desk as he took his jacket off. While he hung it on the back of his chair, I bent over and grabbed the rung but did not pull down my panties.

When he came back, he pulled my skirt back, paused for a moment, and then popped me lightly with the paddle and said: “I told you to lower your panties. Since you cannot follow directions, that will be another 10.”

He proceeded to grab the waistband on my panties and pull them down to my knees and I felt a quick shiver. Then with his left hand, he pulled my skirt back as far as he could and then moved his hand to the bare area of the small of my back. I remember his hand being colder than usual.

He placed that paddle on my backside, rubbed it back and forth a few times and then gave me the first ten swats. As the stinging intensified with the first few strikes, I began concentrating on that stirring feeling in my groin. It seemed like each paddling made the feeling more intense. I also again noticed how my blue plaid skirt would flutter after each swat.

He paused after the first set to again tell me of his intolerance for bad language and then dispensed with the second set of ten swats. I began my usual shifting of my butt from left to right as the swats found their target. As I shifted, my feet separated by about a foot and finally he said: “Please quit moving around and keep your feet and knees together. Ok?”

“Ok,” I said between gasps.

After a few seconds he said, “That’s a good girl.”

I really liked it when he said that, and the only reason I can think of was that I was pleasing him somehow. Then the phone rang and he told me to stay put while he answered it. I was glad that I was here alone as it allowed me to enjoy the moment with less apprehension.

While he tended the phone caller, I was tingling with a remarkably good feeling that covered my whole mid section. It was the most bizarre combination of part pain and part pleasure. Wow, what a feeling!

After about a minute, he hung up the phone and resumed his position beside me. Again he commented me with a “good girl.”

Then he tapped the paddle a few times and then gave me the third set of ten swats. Just as the last swat landed, I felt his left hand relax the pressure on my back and I stood straight up and said: “Owww!” and started rubbing my backside.

He then placed his hand at the bottom of my neck and said: “Do not get up until I say to do so!” and then pushed me back into position.

Immediately, he began with the fourth set and on the third pop I again said: “Oww,” and started to stand up.

“I said, bend over!” he blurted in an angry tone as he placed his left hand on my back just below the neck and pushed my head down to the seat cushion. I want your head down and bottom up! And do not get up again. You just earned another ten. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I replied in a rude tone. “But it hurts!”

I was trying to make sure he didn’t realize I liked paddlings, which was why I was being terse.

“It’s supposed to hurt, and do not use that tone with me girl. You now have another ten.”

Then he tapped the paddle on my butt, harder than usual and then started again with the fourth set pf swats. I could tell that he was swatting me with a little more intensity than before.

Then came set number 5, and during this set I shifted my knees so much that my panties fell to the ground. His left hand was really putting a lot of pressure on my back to make sure I didn’t stand up again. I was really enjoying the delightful stinging sensation.

Before he gave me the final set, he again said that if I used bad language again I would be right back where I was, and then delivered them I could feel a tingling sensation going up my back to my shoulder blades as the paddling came to its conclusion.

After the last swat, he kept me in position for another minute as he again gave me his sermon, and then he said I could stand. I reached down, grabbed my panties and pulled them back up as he told me I could return to my quarters.

On the way back, I thought to myself that I could hardly believe I did what I had done, but after thinking about the ‘reward’, it was quite likely that it would happen again.