All heads turn as she enters the room, as she’s well aware. You turn to see what everyone’s looking at, and quickly understand. Her athletic figure is well-featured in the tailored business suit. Your eyes follow the hem of her straight skirt down over shapely calves and into a pair of understated black pumps. She ignores the stares and takes a seat at the bar… ordered a vodka martini, not too dry.

You’ve had a few drinks, you’ve got your courage up, you straighten your tie and approach her. She turns her startling blue-eyed smile on you. For a moment you forget your purpose, caught up in her gaze.
“Can I help you?” she proffers, with a clinical air.

“Oh, uh, mmm. Well, I wanted to ask if I could–“

“Buy me a drink.” She smiles at your surprise. “I noticed you over there debating with yourself about coming over here. I mean why WOULD a strange man approach me? To have a meaningful dialogue? How could we? What do you know about me? So why don’t you say it???”

Your tongue seems stuck in the back of your throat. You’re a little unprepared. The conversation you had with yourself in your head before leaving the table did have questions like this. “What do you mean?” you come back with rather transparently.

“Why waste time? You’re a guy. You don’t want to know me… you want to take me somewhere private and you hope, between now and then, you’ll figure out a way to encourage me to take off all my clothes… just for you. Shall we be honest?”

“That would be a good outcome,” you hear yourself blurt.

Shockingly, she grabs you by the hand, takes a last sip of her martini, and leads you out of the room under the envying stare of everyone.

You get into her hotel room. You nervously take a seat on the edge of the bed. She stalks over to you, “Take off your clothes. I”ll go get us some ice to mix a drink.” Disbelieving, you hastily comply as she leaves the room.

Minutes go by… you sit naked on the bed, tensely watching that door… when all of a sudden the door opens. It’s her…….. and along with her are two other ladies, also fit and athletic, who walk to the window and stand, looking at you. Wow! You really hit the jackpot tonight.

“These are my friends, Donna and Alexis We come to this bar once a week, because eventually some idiot is going to think that by buying us a drink and whispering some idiot small talk we will be magically drawn to him and crave to have him rock our world…

Donna chimes in,”And we are extremely bored of you men with your brains in your crotch thinking that we were somehow put on the earth for your entertainment.”

Then Alexis adds, ” So, one by one, we execute our mission to administer a little “discouragement therapy.” and with that, Donna grabs your belt and Alexis and the mysterious woman grab your arms and pin you to the bed on your stomach. And WHAP! you thought you were seeing stars at that first unexpected sting of your own belt on your own bare behind!

“Damn, sweetheart! You chicks are sssstrong!” you squeal.

“Oh, we’re strong alright. And FYI – you’re not earning any points by calling women “sweetheart” and “chicks.” she says.

Alexis stalks over the chaisse lounge against the wall and begins carefully laying out an array of items: a long, thick leather belt, several wooden paddles, a wooden hairbrush, a bathbrush, and 7 rattan canes of varying thicknesses. Then she pulls a sturdy redwood saddle rack from the closet and places in the middle of the room.

“Yes, we are going to teach you a little respect for, as you call us, “the weaker sex.” says Donna. Then Alexis laughs to herself,”That’s us, Donna. We’re here to change hearts and minds.”

And you feel the SMACK of your belt, and the instant warm sting that almost brings tears to your eyes. “Damn,” you think,”This is not the way this evening was supposed to go.

Auntie Marlene has caught you in her purse again!  Boy, that scowl always strikes fear in your heart. She’s not like your mom. She doesn’t just give you a lecture and take away your TV priviledges.  You know what she’ll undoubtedly do…

And sure enough, here she comes with that look on her face. She pulls you by your ear. “March, Mister!”

She hustles you into her bedroom.

Uh-oh.

You see her bra and panties hanging on a hook. Auntie Marlene is as old as your mom but she has a much better figure. You can’t stop glancing at her under-garments.

Uh-oh.

She sees where your eyes keep going. “You are really gonna get it now! AND, I’m going to tell your father about your rudeness!”

Double uh-oh!

She unbuckles your belt and unbuttons your jeans. She sits on the end of the bed, having already grabbed her hairbrush off the dresser. “Oh crap!” You think to yourself. “I’m really gonna get it now!”

“Please, Auntie, not the hairbrush, I’ll be good. I promise!” you beg.

“I’ve raised three boys,” she retorts. ” Every one of them had a lot of sincere, hearty promises when they were over my knee. They soon forgot them whenever I felt sorry for them and let them off the hook without a good bare bottom blistering. I know better now. Spare the paddling and spoil the child!”

She peels down your knickers.  “Oh, no! You’re not going to use that hairbrush on my bare behind, are you?!  I mean, I know I’m not getting out of this spanking, but…. the hairbrush!?  That’s really gonna sting!”

“Oh, your darn right it will!” smiles Aunt Marlene. “But you’ll think twice before you ever contemplate taking something that does not belong you after this!” And then she grabs your arm and jerks you over her lap!

Whack-whack-whack!  The hard surface of the hairbrush wakes up the skin on your rear end. “A dozen more and then I’m getting the strap out!” she announces.

“Oh, please! I’ll be good. I promise. I know I was a naughty boy, but I’ll be good. I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, you’ll be sorry alright… You’ll be getting a couple dozen smacks with the strap…. then I’m going to stand you up against the wall and give you some good hard strokes  with my yardstick, and believe me, they are going to STING. This bare bottom is going to be VERY sore!  And when I get through with you, I’m going to tell your mother and father about this naughty thing you’ve done.  I’m sure your father will have a thing or two to say about your behavior when HE gets home.”

Uh-oh, times ten!  You are really in for it now.

Kevin just started in the seventh grade. He was very impressed with himself when some 9th Graders decided he was pretty cool when he tripped a nerd in the lunchroom and made everybody laugh. This got him an invite to hang out with the big kids.

Today, he’s regretting that. A week ago, Mitch and Sam, two of the big kids, had the great idea of drilling a hole in the closet wall so they could all peep into the girls locker room.  They’d been meeting there after lunch every day this week and getting their jollies. Yesterday, Horace Vincent, the nerd that Kevin tripped, spied them doing just that and took great pleasure ratting the boys out to the school principal, Mrs, Sheffer. Today, Kevin, Mitch and Sam are sitting in her outer office.

“Kevin,” she says, as she peers her head out the open door. “Yes, Ma’am,” answers Kevin, reluctantly.  “I will start with you, and work my way up to Mitch, whom, I’m sure is the misguided mastermind of this caper.” “Yes, Ma’am,” Kevin whispers, and drags his apprehensive self into her office.

“I’m sure you heard, Kevin, that here in Junior HIgh School, we do not put up with mischief. And I am of the mind that the best deterrent is good, old-fashioned discipline.”

“You mean… like a spanking?” Kevin gulps.  She nods definitively. “But, but… My mom stopped spanking me years ago.  I’m too old to get a spanking.”

“You can ask your parents if you like, but we clearly state in our charter that a bare bottomed spanking, paddling, caning and the like, would be the consequence of anyone breaking school rules.” She summarily stalks over to Kevin, jerks him up from his chair, and tugs on his jeans, dropping them to his ankles. Kevin shivers in his knickers as Mrs Sheffer then sits in straight back chair, pulls him to her lap and announces,”First a merciful warm-up with your tighty-whities on, and then, young man, you will feel the sting of my paddle… on the bare! Hopefully, when we’re done, you will be sufficiently inspired to behave yourself!”

And down comes her hand, whap-whap-whap!  Kevin can’t believe how much a bare hand can hurt over his drawers!  If this is her “warm-up”…he thinks… what is the paddling going to feel like?

After a dozen or so more additional stinging swats, Ms. Sheffer bends her head down, grabs a scruff of Kevin’s hair and pulls Kevin’s face to meet hers. “Make yourself comfortable, young man. You’re going to be here for awhile,” she hisses. She straightens herself, sets the paddle down, and slides the belt out from the loops on her straight black skirt. She raises her right arm high and soon the thick leather meets with Kevin’s already sore bare flesh. “Ow! Ow! Owwwww!,” he cries. “Please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” But his entreaties meet with no sympathy.

Outside in the outer office, Mitch and Sam cringe at the sounds coming from behind   Ms. Sheffer’s door. They know they’re next.

Inside, Ms Sheffer has Kevin firmly by his ear and is marching him into the corner. “Put your nose against the wall, Mister!  You watch that wall and you stay put until I tell you to turn around.” She walks to the far side of the room and dials her phone. Kevin tries to make out what she’s doing but he cannot. Soon she’s behind him. She jerks him by the arm and drags him to her desk. “Bend over! I’m getting the yardstick!”

“Please, Ms. Sheffer, I was just kidding around with the guys. I’ve learned my lesson. Aren’t we done yet?”

“We are done when I say we’re done, and not before!” She reaches under her desk and pulls out a thick yardstick. She taps his bare bottom a few times to get her aim, then she lets it fly. Once, twice, three times…. half a dozen sharp swats!  His cheeks are glowing red now.

From the tip of his attention, Kevin hears a shuffling and tries to look up. Ms. Sheffer grabs him by the hair again, this time forcing his head down on the desk. “Nevermind, Kevin. I would think you had enough to do tolerating the sting of your licking!” Again she let’s the yardstick gain purchase on his burning cheeks a dozen times. Then she sees her hairbrush on the window ledge and grabs it. Whack! Whack! Whack! Kevin can’t keep from squirming. Ms. Sheffer wraps a leg over his flailing limps and swats away with the hairbrush. One dozen, two dozen, THREE dozen strokes! Kevin cannot hold back the tears.

Finally, she lets up, seeing that Kevin is exhausted and soaked with sweat. His eyes are red with tears. “I think you’ve been taken off that high horse of yours.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“But I do not take kindly when boys tease or pick on the girls here at this school, and I have a zero tolerance policy for it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Well, just so you don’t forget this little message I’ve tried to impart to you today…. why don’t you turn around now.”

Slowly Kevin rises, feeling the burning sting on his cheeks with his hand. And when he turns, what does he see but entire girls gym class stifling giggles and jabbing each other with amusement. Ms. Sheffer nods to them and they skitter out of her office, tittering amongst one another and pointing at Kevin, who stands there with his trousers still draped around his ankles. Now the cheeks on his face are as red as the ones on his bare bottom.

Ms. Sheffer smiles wryly. “I think I’ve made an imprssion on you today. I hope we won’t have to have this conversation again, young man. Because the next time would be MUCH worse. Now pull your pants up and go on out.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you, Ma’am.”

Just as he reaches the door, she stops him. “Just a minute.”

He freezes in terror for a moment. “Yes…?” he trembles.

“You can send Mitch in now.”