Panty Inspections In Grade SchoolOooooooh, I love this group! I have at least one story to share, I'm not sure anyone will actually believe it, but here goes.
The elementary school I attended with my sisters had a fairly strict dress code, requiring girls to wear skirts and dresses at all times. There were no actual uniforms, but school policy stated jeans, shorts and bike pants were off-limits to all female students. This wasn't a big deal at first, because it was years before "boyswear" came into fashion for preteens.
The real problems began after I entered the fourth grade. A few people here might recall a widely-publicized "health scare" in the early 80s. Without going into any details, our local School Board overreacted to the perceived threat and and overhaul the dress code, going so far as to restricted the kind of underwear girls could wear to school. Believe it or not, the Board mandated plain cotton full briefs for all female students - the school manual stated that "fashion colors were totally unacceptable." Looking back, I still can't believe that they could dictate what a child was permitted to wear underneath - but that was how things were back then.
The "knicker inspections" started a few weeks later, after the vice-principal - Mrs Lucas - noticed most of us were ignoring the revised dress code. Her reaction was as immediate as it was unexpected. I remember one morning she called every girl in the third and fourth grades to the assembly hall and had us stand in straight rows. After lecturing us on "policy violations" she ordered us to raise our hemlines to our chins, while she and several other teachers prowled about checking our underwear. Any girl who was wearing bikinis, g-strings or "fashion" panties was called out to the front of the hall, where they were made to face the wall in disgrace. The rest of us were told to lower our skirts and dresses, then sent back to class (I understand that the offending students were sent home to change and given a week's detention).
You may find this hard to believe, but there were actually a large number of men present during this public shaming - Mr Connors, the Principal, three of his nameless assistants, and several members of the School Board. Ostensibly, their presence was meant to ensure professional conduct, but it was utterly humiliating for all of us. The most astonishing thing was that none of our parents complained about our treatment - apparently, they considered it no different to our annual school physicals.
Later in the day, our teacher - Mrs Taylor - informed us that we would be subjected to random panty inspections in the classroom and playground. She also told us - in no uncertain terms - that anyone violating the new policy would be severely punished.
We all knew exactly what that meant.
The vice principal was as good as her word. About three weeks later, she came to our classroom with a yardstick, unceremoniously ordering every girl to the front of the room. Our teacher stood dutifully to one side holding her well-worn board-ruler, while Mrs Lucas instructed us to lift our dresses for inspection. I have extremely vivid memories of this particular episode; I was wearing a light summer tunic tied at the waist, I had to removed the cord so I could raise the hem properly. Several other girl were required to do the same thing, and every one of us was literally dazed with breathless anticipation.
I should also mention that the boys were not required to leave during this "examination" - evidently, the VP thought herding the boys into the corridor would disrupt the time table. You can well imagine how totally embarrassed we were, standing there with our panties on open exhibition.
Worse was yet to come, however.
I was one of four girls wearing "non-regulation" knickers - in my case a pair of strawberry-print nylon briefs - and when the others were returned to their seats, I knew I was in for it. My pulse started pounding in my neck as Mrs Lucas instructed us to turn around and bend over the teacher's desk, each with our dresses flipped high over our backs. We had to lean forward as far as possible, heels together and legs locked into position so that our pantied bottoms were bulging out in full view. I could actually feel the sheer fabric stretched tight against my plump, young bottom-cheeks - lord only knows how we must have looked to our class mates. All four of us were already crying in shame and fear; we all knew how much this was going to hurt, and the thought of being spanked in public was humiliating beyond imagination.
Mrs Lucas began by reminding us that rules were meant to be obeyed and we no excuse for ignoring the revised dress code. Violations would NOT be tolerated at Ridgewick Elementary and she intended to teach our NAUGHTY LITTLE BOTTOMS a lesson they'd NEVER forget. By that point we were all sobbing in terror, begging forgiveness and promising we'd never do it again. All to no effect, of course: Mrs Lucas was determined to make an example of us, and Mrs Taylor nodded her full agreement.
Both women administered the punishment: smooth pine and polished cedar swept down across our tender little bottoms from either side of the desk. We shrieked and bucked in white-hot agony, clenching our cheeks against each thunderous blow. I struggled to keep my heels together throughout the entire ordeal - while my tooshie jiggled back and forth under that red-cheeked barrage, we were forbidden to otherwise shift our position. The last five blows strafed our upper thighs, making us wail at the top of our lungs.
Once the spanking was over, we were allowed to adjust our clothing, while Mrs Lucas reminded us we got got iff easy this time - this was a very minor sample of what we'd get next time we broke the rules. She then sent us back to our chairs, though we were understandably hesitant to take a seat.
After that first month, dress code violations fell dramatically in number, although the spankings were by no means abandoned. They continued on a regular basis over the next few years, and this would be not my last encounter with the dreaded yard stick. Being something of a passive rebel, swift justice would descend over my pert young bottomtops more often than I can recall...though I could probably recount at at least a few of the more "memorable" occasions ... if you'd be interested in hearing more on the subject.