S.M.A.C. School

Suddenly, they were in front of the door leading into her classroom. As Adam opened it and propelled his reluctant young teacher into the classroom ahead of him, the noisy buzz of unsupervised, chattering students instantly stilled. Everyone could read the look of fear and humiliation on Ms. Sorenson’s face. The girls could read the look on the principal’s face too; none of them wanted to be Ms. Sorenson at that very moment.

“Class,” he addressed them. “Ms. Sorenson has something she wants to say to you, don’t you Ms. Sorenson?”

“I’m — I’m very sorry I was late for class this morning,” she said quickly. “Very sorry.”

“And you’re going to be a lot sorrier,” Adam declared. “Bend across your desk. Now.”

Eve Sorenson wanted to die of shame. He was going to spank her. In front of her own students. She hesitated.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, young lady,” he said, addressing her more like an errant school girl than a mature teacher. Something in his voice shook her out of her stupor. She bent across her desk, her upturned bottom facing a classroom full of her own students, hoping against hope the principal would leave her at least some small shred of dignity.

He didn’t. Adam First reached down and flipped up the hem of her minidress exposing the tops of her nylons, her garter belt and panties. She tried to push down her bottom, make it somehow less prominent but he was having none of it. He slipped his hand between her legs and held her pubis as he lifted her into the position he wanted.

Adam First could feel the dampness of the gusset between her legs, her excitement. She was getting off on this! Well, he would give her time to get the full effect, he thought. He slipped his fingers inside the waistband of her panties and slowly dragged them down to just below the top of her stockings. Then he reached into his suit pocket for the safety pins he kept with him for just such occasions and proceeded to pin the hem of her dress high above her waist. That would keep her bare bottom on prominent display even after she stood up. This added humiliation, he knew, often served as more of a punishment than the spanking itself.

He didn’t spank his young teacher right away either. Instead, he left her there, ignominiously bent across the desk, dress pinned up, panties pulled down, her bottom on display while he went silently to the blackboard behind the teacher’s desk and wrote at the top of the board in a careful script: “Naughty teachers get their bare bottoms. spanked.”

“Ms. Sorenson, come here,” he ordered. She stood up and hurried over to where he was standing, acutely aware of the show she continued to put on for the students, who were sitting in numbed, watchful silence in their seats. “You will copy out the sentence on the blackboard one hundred times — and think about what it says, and what those words will mean for you — while I deal with some other unpleasantness that is necessary as a result of your behaviour today.” So saying, he placed the piece of chalk in her hand, grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face the blackboard. Reaching down, he gave her bared bottom a hard smack. “Get on with it,” he said gruffly. “Number each one. And start up high so you’ll have room for one hundred lines.”

Eve Sorenson had to stand on her tiptoes and then stretch to reach the spot under which he had written the sentence. She only hoped he wouldn’t punish her for poor penmanship too.