Smacked At School

'Spanking' is something they do in America. I don't want to be 'spanked' on my '***'; I want to have my bottom smacked. Or strapped, belted or caned I don't much care as long as it happens as frequently and as hard as possible! My favourite is to be smacked though and always has been.

"You need a bloody good hiding, Tara", or "Tara, I'm going to smack your bottom", or "Take your knickers down Tara and bend over", all make me instantly horny and wet between my legs.

'Panties' is another one. I don't wear 'panties'; I wear knickers and those too get me really excited, particularly other girls' dirty knickers.

I don't actually remember the first time I was physically pushished. Me and my sister and brother, two and three years older than me, just always were disciplined in that way. I grew up on a council estate in the 1980's and it makes me laugh when people talk about corporal punishment being banned - I can tell you it most certainly wasn't! Although the schools had done away with it, officially, I've yet to speak to any girl who wasn't familiar, either by reputation or painful experience, with the PE Mistress's slipper across her knickered bottom!

All three of us were obnoxious and a real handful for our poor mum. Dad worked away for weeks at a time so the only way she could control us was by regular punishments when we were naughty. Not many days went by without one of us getting a smacked bottom. Often in fact, when we had been fighting, which we did frequently, all three of us would be dealt with, one after another always youngest (me) first followed by Caroline and Danny.

I'll write some more about punishments at home later and how having my bottom smacked first came to be a profoundly sexual experience for me. This happened at school, after a PE lesson, when I had just started senior school..

As usual, I hadn't taken part in the lesson itself as it was swimming and my chlorine allergy prevented it. On swimming days I would sit by the pool and run errands for Miss Walsh, our PE Mistress, getting things from the changing room or the store cupboard the school used. Although it was a public pool, it was shut for the afternoons we were there so none of the girls used the lockers.

This was great for me as I could take my time and examine the dirty knickers of every single girl in my class without any fear of discovery, or so I thought. Miss Walsh had sent me to get some floats from the store and I had to go through the changing room to get there. On my way back I spent just too long knicker-sniffing.

All the girls wore cotton knickers, either full-cut or tanga style, the only variation being the colour and state of (un)clenliness. On this day one girl, Sharon, had left a really filthy pair of knickers on top of her pile of clothes. I remember they were white, tanga style which is basically two triangles of white cotton joined together by string at the sides and a two inch wide gusset. Sharon's knickers were always the filthiest but this time she had been wearing them more than just yesterday and today as they were heavily stained with her pee and had obviously spent a lot of time up her bottom. She was easily a size 16 with a big bottom and the knickers were size 14.

Anyway, they smelled just wonderful and when the outer door banged open, I had just seconds to get my nose out of Sharon's dirty crotch and pretend to be doing something else. Tying my shoelaces was the best I could come up with and Miss Walsh clearly wasn't buying it. I was told to report to her office at 4pm in full PE kit and informed in no uncertain terms that I should expect to be punished.

Our PE Kit consisted of a skimpy vest without a bra, white socks with white plimsolls if we were doing gym and dark blue PE knickers over our regular knickers. I was an early developer and as well as hips and a chubby bottom, my breasts were easily the biggest in my class and used to bounce around in my tight vest. I was never one of those girls that all the boys lusted after but on the times when the girls and boys shared the gym hall, all the boys used to stare at my breasts straining at my cotton vest. This would get me horny of course and my nipples, also very large, would stick out like thimbles.

Correctly dressed, with stiff nipples and butterflies in my tummy, I presented myself to Miss Walsh at 4pm that afternoon. Her office was at the back of the girls changing room, and doubled as the first aid room with a reclining couch in the corner. I knew what that couch got used for, I had heard the squeals and yelps and smacking sounds often enough and seen girls, usually the same three or four, exit the office snivelling and clutching their bottoms. Usually they never bothered to pull up their PE knickers and whoever was in the changing rooms would see their glowing bottoms, red from punishment, protruding from knickers invariably wedged between their buttocks.

I adored this spectacle and would find excuses to hang around when I knew a girl was to be punished. Now it was my turn and I was seriously sexually excited. Getting my bottom smacked, or worse, was nothing new to me and I had been ************ after spankings at home for a few years by then,  But this was the first time it wasn't my mum or my dad that was going to punish me, it was sexy Miss Walsh and the thought of the smacked bottom to come was making me very wet indeed between my legs.

Miss Walsh was tall and slim, her long legs and small, round bottom encased in tight leggings, usually black. Sometimes she wore white leggings, her knickers clearly visible through the tight material. More than one girl in our class had wet knickers on those days!

There was no shouting, no long lecture, Miss Walsh simply informed me that if she asked me to do something, it was expected that I would do it as quickly as possible. I obviously took far longer than expected due to all the smelly cotton diversions in the changing room but she clearly hadn't twigged that, thank god! Now I was to get a painful reminder to buck my ideas up.  I can't remember the conversation exactly but it was something like:

"I'm going to punish you Tara, you know that don't you?"

"Yes Miss," I said "Please Miss, are you going to smack my bottom Miss?" I tried my best little-girl voice.

"Yes, Tara, I am", she replied, "and I think you deserve a smacked bottom don't you, for being so lazy?"

"Yes Miss, I suppose so. Will it hurt Miss?" I was trying to wind her up!

"Yes Tara, of course it will hurt and yes, in anticipation of your next stupid question, I AM going to take down your PE knickers!" Mildly irritated was the best I could achieve. "Now any more of this and it'll be on your bare bottom!"

Taking me by the wrist, Miss Walsh pulled me towards the couch. I didn't resist, I knew I really wanted this by now and stood in front of her as she sat down on the couch. When instructed to do so, I climbed up on the coach to her right, shuffling forward so I was kneeling, on all fours, astride her lap. I remember gasping a little but making no protest when she placed her fingers inside the waist elastic of my blue PE knickers and very slowly pulled them down, to just above the backs of my knees. Without being told to, I lay myself down flat across her lap, lifting my bottom slightly, presenting it to her. I could feel the heat in my face, as well as my crotch and I was pleased I didn't have to look at her.

My knickers were very wet indeed now, anticipating the punishment to come and I couldn't quite keep still on her lap. She must have been able to smell my excitement, I certainly could, but no comment was made. She told me to stretch out my arms and grasp the end of the couch, thus crushing my breasts and stiff nipples into the hard couch, further increasing my state of horniness.

Miss Walsh was far stronger than she appeared and when she began smacking my bottom, the smacks really stung my soft skin. My own cotton knicks were no protection and she concentrated on the area right at the bottom of my buttocks, where bottom meets thighs, which is the most painful area of hindquarters to have smacked, as I am sure she knew. And as my knickers weren't that big, she was smacking my bare skin and her hands, although small, worked really hard, smacking me hard and fast, dozens and dozens of smacks in barely a few minutes!

I couldn't control the movements of my bottom.  I wriggled and writhed and bounced over her lap but it made no difference, every single smack was delivered on target and the stinging was causing me to yelp out loud. I hadn't expected this to be a particularly painful punishment but I was very wrong and after five minutes I was crying.

Once I had started to cry, Miss Walsh slowed down but the smacks were just as hard, concentrating now on the middle of my bottom, where I could take it more easily. I felt my skimpy cotton kinickers sliding up into my bottom crack too, gradually stretching taught over my ***** and my now very swollen clittoris.

As the smacks settled into a rhythm, I found I could match the rhythm by clenching and unclenching my bum cheeks so that my bottom was perfectly upraised off Miss Walsh's lap to meet the next smack. This action in this position is enough to make you come, even without the added stimulous I was enjoying! It wasn't subtle either, I must have lifted my arse a foot in the air, repeatedly. Miss Walsh said nothing, even as the rhythmic movement developed and my yelps and sobs changed into soft moans.

Then the pace of the smacks slowed further but the strength increased. Hard smack was followed by slightly louder moan. Bottom comes up and harder smack lands follwed by a louder moan and so on until, after I suppose fifteen minutes in total over Miss Walsh's lap, I came in my knickers, making those horrible grunting noises I still make when I come, bucking about on her lap, oblivious that she'd stopped smacking me.

Miss Walsh just allowed me to calm down gradually, holding me firmly in place and soothing my bottom with the hand that had previously smacked it. She didn't touch me anywhere else, although god I wanted her to, or do anything else inappropriate. She stood me up and hugged me, cupping my bottom in both hands and now my arousal was cooling, it was far and away the most painful smacking I had ever had!

"Punishment is not supposed to be enjoyable Tara", she told me, "but you are not the first girl that's happened to and its not something to be ashamed of".

She must have mistaken my red face for embarrassment. "But you needn't think it will stop me punishing you when you need it, is that clear?" With big, teary eyes I looked up at her and nodded my head. "Now off you go home and change those knickers!" she said and slapped my bottom one last time.

I don't really remember getting changed back into my uniform, nor getting home. I do remember the evening I spent in my bedroom ************ as the sting in my bottom faded to the most wonderful warm glow. I now had a huge crush on Miss Walsh and I remember that I kept those knickers on for the rest of that week!