I Volunteered For A Paddling

Contrary to what many people think, New York State had school paddling right up to 1985. Most students did not talk about it much, since it was pretty embarrassing to tell others that the principal spanked you, especially in high school! The paddle was not very difficult to avoid--all you had to do was follow the rules and chances were you would be fine.
Although I had a circle of friends, most students considered me nerdy and did not talk to me except to make rude comments as I passed by in the halls. They were probably jealous that I was an honor student. Be that as it may, I did have one problem--I had been smoking since I was 14, and now at 17 I had really developed a nasty habit.
Just before math class on that fateful day in 1976 I really had an urge for a cigarette. I didn't like math class anyway, and they probably wouldn't miss me, so I ducked into the girls' room and waited in a stall until the bell rang and everyone had gone. Then I lit up my Marlboro filter and drew the smoke down into my lungs. It tasted awful but really felt good--a contradiction in terms perhaps.
Suddenly the bathroom door opened, and a familiar teacher's voice demanded, "Who's smoking in here?" I could do nothing about it except drop the cigarette into the toilet. "Come out now!" she demanded. I had no choice but to exit the stall. This teacher was known for her no-nonsense attitude, so of course nobody liked her. She recognized me. "Miss Dumont! Give me those cigarettes!" Obediently I placed the remainder of the pack in her waiting hand. "I'm really surprised at you. You know better!" I had to admit I did. "Get to class!" she commanded. And off I went to waste my time in math class.
I went home minus my cigarettes, but I thought that would be the end of the affair. Next morning was going to be a warm spring day, so I chose a lightweight outfit--a white blouse and pleated miniskirt of red plaid, over a white mini-slip, flesh-tinted pantihose and black loafers. I had a decent breakfast, said goodbye to Mom and caught the school bus.
Homeroom was the usual mundane routine--attendance, pledge of allegiance, morning announcements. But then I heard a very unnerving command over the intercom. "Pamela Ann Dumont, to the front office please."
All I could think was, Damn! She turned me in! She couldn't just leave it alone?
I arrived at the front office and asked the secretary, "Do you want to see me?"
"Mr. Donaldo does," came the reply. Uh-oh--the principal himself.
Actually Mr. Donaldo and I got along fine. He liked me and I liked him and his fair, even-handed manner when it came to dealing with students. His door was open, so I walked in.
"Pamela Ann, close the door please."
Uh-oh again.
He took something out of his desk drawer, and I recognized it.
"Are these your cigarettes?"
I had to admit they were.
"Pamela Ann, I'm surprised at you. Not only did you deliberately smoke on school grounds, but you also cut a class to do it. What were you thinking?"
"I guess I wasn't," I replied, eyes downcast.
"I can't let this go," he explained, "despite your outstanding record. You understand that it would not be fair to others."
"I know," I said.
Mr. Donaldo had a looseleaf binder in which were written every conceivable offense against school policy, and beside it the suggested punishment, usually detention, suspension, or paddle.
"Well," he said, "according to regulations, you must take three days of detention for smoking, and another three days for skipping class. Would you like to work out a schedule with me for serving the days?"
I had one afternoon of detention back in Ninth Grade, and believe me it was like watching grass grow. Six days of this tedium would be more than I could tolerate.
"Mr. Donaldo," I said, "isn't there something else I could take instead? Six days is a long time."
He sighed and shook his head slightly. "Well---there is the paddle."
"How many smacks?" I asked.
"According to the book, six--three for each offense."
Well I had to think about this. At home I was still getting spanked along with my two sisters, but Mom's weapon of choice was the flat wooden hairbrush, right on the bare behind, and her spanks were a lot more than six. Here I was wearing four layers of clothing, as I always did when I wore a skirt. I didn't exactly know how they paddle, but it couldn't be much more than a glorified spanking.
"All right, I'll take the paddle."
Mr. Donaldo looked disapprovingly at me. "Are you sure this is what you want?" Apparently he did not relish the prospect of paddling me.
"Yes, I'm sure."
He sighed. "All right then, if this is what you want. I can give you three right now and three tomorrow during homeroom. I strongly suggest you take them in installments. Remember, I can't favor you over anyone else--you understand?"
I didn't want to have to return tomorrow for another spanking, and I was not the most patient girl.
"Mr. Donaldo, can't I take them all at once, right now?"
"Yes you can, but it's not usually done."
"I just want it over," I said.
"All right, I understand, but first I have to make a call to your mother."
I was flustered. "Does she have to know about this?"
"Yes, it's school policy that a parent be informed before a student is paddled."
This was beginning to sound like serious business.
I agreed to have him call my mom and gave him my home phone number.
He dialed and waited a moment. "Mrs. Dumont? Yes, this is Mr. Donaldo, principal here at the high school. I have your daughter Pamela Ann with me now, for smoking in school and skipping class. She is going to be paddled. Do I have your permission to proceed?" Silence. Then, "All right then, thank you, Goodbye."
He looked up at me. "Your mom said to whack away." Yeah, that was my mom all right.
Then Mr. Donaldo pressed the intercom buzzer. "Mrs. Larsen, would you please come down to my office for a few minutes?" Mrs. Larsen had been my old English teacher from last year. Mr. Donaldo explained that when a girl is paddled there has to be a female witness in the room, for everyone's safety.
When Mrs. Larsen came in she looked with surprise at seeing me there. She knew she was going to witness a paddling, but on me?
Mr. Donaldo said, "All right, Pamela Ann, come over to my desk and stand in front of it."
I did so. His desk was large and wide, and uncluttered in the place where I was standing, more to the left side than in the center.
"Again, are you sure this is what you want?" I couldn't believe he was still trying to talk me out of it.
"Yes it is," I said, but now I was not too sure about it.
"Please assume the position," he said.
"I don't know what that is." Obviously I was very new at this.
He explained, "Just bend forward and put your upper body down flat on the desk. Then reach out and hold onto the back edge with both hands. Put a little space between you and the desk. And above all, do not move."
I did as I was told. My body was pressed down on his desk, with my hands straight out in front of me. This way I would not be able to reach back without dislocating my shoulder--but thereby saving my hand from getting whacked. My long red hair had been unbound and was spilling in front of my face. Keeping my upper body down effectively poised up my rear end for the paddle. I was afraid my short skirt was riding up and I was affording them a beautiful view of my pantihose and panties. Then I felt a tug on my hemline. Mrs. Larsen was thoughtful enough to pull down my skirt so that nothing embarrassing showed. I turned my head toward her.
"Just keep looking forward. Don't look around," Mr. Donaldo said.
I heard him open a closet door. So that's where he kept it, I thought. Apparently he did not want me to see the paddle, presumably so I would not be upset by the sight.
"All right, Pamela Ann, are you set?"
"Yes," I said. My voice was shaking now, but I told myself I would take it all without crying.
I felt him pat the back of my skirt with what felt like a hard plank of wood. He was trying to find my actual rump and not the false silhouette provided by my pleats. Then nothing.
I heard a little "wwhhhh" through the air, then a loud POFF! as though someone had popped a plastic bag. It echoed through the high-ceilinged room. The force jolted me and I went right up on my toes and down again. It felt like a cattle prod on my rear end. I remember thinking, Oh my God--this HURTS! I sucked in my breath from the shock. The pain spread out over both cheeks and up my back. Little pinpoints of light were swirling before my eyes. So this is what seeing stars looked like!
Mr. Donaldo patted my skirt again. "Steady now," he said. "Hold still."
"Wwwhhhhh"---POFF! came the second spank, and up I went on my toes again. This time I let out a little whimper, and I thought to myself, I'm not going to make it through six of these!
Again, pat-pat-pat against the back of my skirt, then "Wwwhhhh"--POFF!
This was too much. I drew in my breath and let out the most heart-wrenching sob ever! Then I let go all my composure and began to cry my eyeballs out.
Mr. Donaldo stopped the paddling. "Pamela Ann, are you all right?" he asked. I thought to myself, You're the one trying to swat my skirt into the next room--take a guess!
"All right, Pamela Ann, you can stand up and walk around for a moment to regain composure. You'll do fine."
I eased myself up off his desk , tears wetting my long red hair and plastering it against my face. I could not believe how much this hurt. It was definitely not my Mom's hairbrush, bare or no bare. I limped over to a filing cabinet and just cradled my head in my arms, and cried and cried. So much for taking this like a woman! I was just a sobbing little girl getting spanked.
Mr. Donaldo said, "Pamela Ann, how are you doing?" He sounded genuinely concerned.
This time I couldn't resist. Still sobbing, I replied, "Well, detention is sure looking better and better right now!" And through my tears I began to laugh. Mr. Donaldo and Mrs. Larsen also laughed softly, presumably to break the ice. I know none of us were enjoying ourselves, and I have to say that even though he was paddling me good and hard, Mr. Donaldo was being very kind and respectful to me. I knew he had to hit me just as hard as he did anyone else.
"Pamela Ann, you have to go back down again for the next three." He sounded gentle, almost apologetic. I walked back to the desk and bent myself over again. This time Mrs. Larsen did not tug on my skirt. I was so out of it right now that I didn't care what anyone could see.
The paddling continued, but this time it did not hurt as much, even though he was still hitting me pretty hard. My rear end still went flying up in the air with every spank. I think my behind was going numb. All the better, I thought. Finally the last swat hit me right on my sit spot where all the others had landed, and I just lay across his desk, crying and hiccupping.
"It's over, Miss Dumont," said Mr. Donaldo. It was the first time he had called me Miss Dumont rather than Pamela Ann. I was surprised. "You can get up now."
I straightened myself up and looked down at where I had been lying. The paddle was on the desk, and for the first time I got a good look at the two-foot-long monster that had been spanking me. It had no holes, just a solid piece of varnished wood that had students' names etched into it, along with smiley faces and a bold-lettered OUCH! that some comedian had drawn onto the paddle's face.
"Would you like to sign the paddle?" Mr. Donaldo asked. I just shook my head. I was so upset that I didn't even want to look at the thing.
Mrs. Larsen went back to her classroom, and Mr. Donaldo suggested I stop by the girls' room to wash my face before going back to homeroom. My poor behind was throbbing with a wung-wung-wung feeling like a flashing neon sign.
I stopped to the girls'room, washed my face, combed my hair and tied it into a ponytail. When I went back to class, one look at me told everyone that something very unpleasant had happened to me down at the office. And when I sat down very carefully, wincing as an electric shock passed through my rear end, there was no missing it!
At lunch the girls at my table asked if I had been paddled. When I said I had been, they began to tease me good-naturedly and made up a new nickname for me--Bad Pam.
I sat all day on a very sore behind. The pain was not only on the surface, but penetrated down into the butt muscles. I couldn't wait to get home and sit on something soft.
I didn't see Mom when I arrived at the house, so I went up to my room and checked out the damage in the mirror. I had been sitting on livid bruises of red and purple concentric circles, one on each buttock but the worse one on the right.The bruises were surrounded by little burgundy freckles. It was still hurting. I lay on my bed, trying not to cry again. Well, I thought, this was all my doing. I should not have been smoking, and I asked to be paddled. I had no one to blame but myself.
Then Mom came in. She stood in the doorway with a somewhat amused look on her face. "So!" she said. "They gave you a few paddywhacks, huh?"
I lowered my head in shame. At 17 I had been spanked at school like a little girl.
"All right," she said, "let's see that heinie."
Mom was a nurse and I knew she would take care of any damage. I flipped my slip and skirt, lowered my panties and hose and showed her what the paddle had done.
"I'll get some cream for that," she said, and walked out the door and down to the medicine chest. When she returned she began to pat the cooling cream onto my bruises. And she also said, "Now keep away from those damn cigarettes!"
Very sound advice. I never smoked again, from that day to this. The side effects can be very devastating.
BadPam BadPam
56-60, F
19 Responses Jan 23, 2013

Pamela Ann, I noticed your "Happy Anniversary" status with reference to the paddling. It really made a lasting impression on you to remember the exact date. Better yet, though, you stopped smoking, the most beneficial "impression" of all!

Truth be told, I couldn't remember the exact date for a long time because I guess I put it out of my memory. I remember it was on a Wednesday in April sometime, and close to Palm Sunday, and right before an unseasonable heat wave, so I was wearing light clothing. So I looked up the date of Easter 1976 and the date of the heat wave, and figured it out from there. The exact date I do remember, August 14, 1978, was the day I got my final spanking from Mom, and memorable because I was unable to sit down for over a week!

Well yes, it was on my bare and 100 strokes of the hairbrush. That was one hell of a tanning.

Well I don't really give good spankings. and I've never spanked a guy. Even my girls will admit that their spankings from me were this side of a joke.

We all used to get paddled all together at the beginning of 1st period..so you;d get to hear some others get licks..I remember it was loud and the paddle was a shaved-down-ba<x>seball-bat-style and 3-5-10 very hard stinging licks was the norm.for boys and girls and one other thing that I remember that used to make me really horny;besides the loud smacking sounds ;was just the way the office always smelled really strong from the ammonia-like odor of wet pee;because lots of the girls would get all scared and pee themselves quite often

I've heard stories of girls peeing themselves from fright but I never saw anything like that happen. I don't doubt it because the paddle was a very scary prospect. As I said in my story, I had no idea what to expect and didn't really think it was going to be so bad--until I felt it!

Well written Pam........describes exactly what I imagaine a hard paddling would be like. I worked in the US for a year on a teacher exchange program many years ago and that is where I came across the paddle for the first time. I was amazed at how big they were. It seems they were designed to make sure every inch of the bottom got hit. The other thing that surprised me was the force used - some kids were literally knocked off their feet. I imagine the pain must have lasted at least for a week.

Yes, it's about the size of a cricket bat and it's applied with all the strength of the arm! As I wrote, I was slammed upward on my toes for each swat. I was pretty well bruised, but surprisingly it didn't hurt much after a few days. The damage looked pretty bad when I saw it in my mirror, and I have a pic in my album about what it looked like.

wow...that looks sore. I gave a few swats myself but I'd say I hurt their pride more than their bottoms:-)

An American paddling is designed to hurt their bottoms--and I mean really hurt! That way the kid doesn't come back for seconds. I knew I never wanted to feel that paddle again. I had no idea it would be that hard. When my sister got it the next year she didn't make such a fuss over it. But I think it was more bravado on her part. I'm sure it hurt!

Well written acount Pam. Does paddling still happen as much in US scools nowadays? Corporal punishment is totally banned here in the UK, has been rof about 20 yrs. The severity surprised me, especially in other accounts of students getting 30 or more swats.

There are over 30 states that still paddle, but they are all in the South. My state of New York stopped nearly thirty years ago. The usual dose is from three to five swats, and that is more than plenty because they are applied extremely hard. The only time I saw someone get 25 swats was in Catholic grammar school, where the nuns were able to do pretty much what they wanted.

Sorry, my miscalculation. Actually the number of states that paddle are 19. There are 31 states that at the moment have banned the practice.

Brave woman - but sensible too, I think. It got everything over straight away.

Yeah, but I didn't count on the several days of soreness whenever I sat on a hard school seat.

I have a feeling you were a hero to the other students especially the girls. I doubt the boys would have volunteered like you. I bet no one asked to have all 6 spanks at one time.

Actually very few people outside my friends and those in my homeroom who saw me return to class with tears in my eyes. It's not like word of my paddling went around the school like a shockwave. But as for taking six swats at once, if they knew what the paddling was going to be like I'm sure they would not have asked for it! As for me, it was my own ignorance of paddling that made me volunteer. I didn't realize that getting the paddle entailed being launched to the moon with every swat! I envisioned a sort of spanky-spank that would hurt my feelings more than my butt. Wow, was I wrong!

Great story! Thanks for sharing. I grew up in upstate New York and they also paddled kids. Lucky for me I never got spanked beyond 4th grade - and the few spankings in school that I got were hand spankings from teachers. If there was a big problem when I was in grade school the teacher would call my mom - and she would be waiting with the hairbrush when I got home.

In 8th grade a kid named Andrew got paddled by the science teacher right in front of the whole class. He was bawling like a baby. It wasn't just six, more like 15-20 over his pants. That teacher put the fear of God into me. I was a perfect science student the entire year.

Very excellent detailed story. That was not a spanking but a beating. There should never be bruises.

Bruises are a common result of school paddlings. They are almost expected. Of course not every paddling results in bruises, but most do from what I understand. The paddle is usually swung very hard as a matter of policy, and of course there is some damage done to the hide. In fact in the South, where paddling is still widely employed, there is a special term for these resulting bruises--"Reminders." When you see your bottom in a mirror, or even try to sit down, you are "reminded" of your paddling and hopefully reminded of what you had done to earn it, and not do it again! Many schools refer to these punishments as "spankings." They are not! They are paddlings. Way different.

By the time you got home most of it faded anyway.. I would have tons red splotches on my cheeks and looked like I got a beating.. A look later would show almost nothing.. Some people bruise easier.. I never had a purple bruise that was much to speak of.. I wouldn't of told anyway.. The result of telling would of involved me showing people my butt to prove it.. No thanks.. Take your punishment and move on.. Next time don't get caught.. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

No, Nikki, they weren't faded by the time I got home! Refer to the photo in my album. It looked pretty much like that! But of course Mom knew about my paddling because the principal phoned her before he proceeded. However, she didn't do anything except look at the damage and tell me not to do anything so stupid again!

Yep.. The bulls-eye effect.. Looks like a paddling..

Your mom didn't spank you again? Luckier than I was. I don't know if the bruises would have faded by the next day, but after my mom's hairbrush or dad's belt got done, there was no fading for at least a couple days.

I kept checking myself in the mirror, and those bulls-eyes didn't fade for several days, although they didn't hurt so much by then. And Mom put cold packs on my butt to help the healing process. But as for my mom's hairbrush, we stayed red for about three days and couldn't sit down at all!

A heavier paddle swung hard should leave bruises, and school paddling always did. At home, any spanking with real wood left marks. Maybe it was genetic, but everyone in my family had marks that lasted at least a few days. But it wasn't as painful as it looked. Not all bruises are equal. Could be deeper, or just a surface discoloration. Depends on the weight of the spanking implement and how hard it's applied. Also, how often were you spanked. I think getting spanked regularly, you might not bruise as easily.

Yeah, when your behind sports those red and purple concentric circles, everyone knows you've been paddled! There's no mistaking those decorations.

5 More Responses

Pam, your story was so well written I almost felt as if I saw it happen. Were it me it would not have ended in school though. My Mom would have spanked the daylight's out of me as well.

My mom's policy was that of fairness. If I got paddled (or otherwise punished) at school, there was no reason to spank me again at home. I had been duly punished already and hopefully learned my lesson. My younger sister Gretchen received two swats for skipping detention, and apart from a finger-wagging from Mom, the matter was closed. My friends assured me that my mom was the exception to the rule because they would all have been spanked upon arrival at home, sore bottom or no.

There's no way my Mom would have not punished me for smoking, skipping class and simply gotten in trouble in school to begin with. She would have told me I was spanked in school for violating THEIR rules and that I was getting a spanking from her for violating HER rules

Pam, I agree with your mom's fairness.

The school didn't call my Mom.. I always got the referral that told my punishment out of the mail before she got home.. hehehehehe. I for sure didn't tell Mom I got a spanking at school.. Don't know if she would of given me a whipping, but I wasn't going to find out..

Most of the ladies I talked to who were paddled as schoolgirls said their parents got phone calls instead of notes. Depending on the school, the principal either asked them for their blessing, or simply informed them that their kid is either about to get paddled, or just did. One of the ladies said she got out of a paddling when the principal asked her mom if he could proceed and the mom said he certainly may not! Not for such a stupid infraction anyway. So the girl was free to go with her heinie intact.

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Oh yeah, ciggies are bad for sitting! At least your family didn't do what mine do for a school spanking: "Young lady you know the rules! You get spanked at school, you get twice that at home!" And sometimes it isn't just Mother whacking away at my bare bottom, its Aunts, or even Gramma!

Ouch i feel for you. Growing up if i got in trouble i was made to stand in the middle of the lounge room until my father got home. The wait was the worst thing as it gave me time to think of what was coming. And without fail as soon as he walked through the door and saw me standing there he would fetch the thick wooden cane and crack me across the back of the legs. 1st hit always dropped me to my knee's raiseing a thick dark welt across the back of each leg and then came that cane across my *** until i couldnt sit down thanks to the pain. I have to say i was happy when he started to just backhand me and make me stand up and fight him after i turned fifteen. And the day of my seventeenth birthday i walked in the door and cracked him right in the jaw. Never got hit after that :)

A paddling was always a option vs suspension at my high school.. I always got the swats.. I don't remember a limit.. I think it was 10 a day.. I nor anyone I knew ever got 10 at once.. 5 was the pretty common amount used in High School

As far as I know, paddling was not an option at our school. I asked for it because I didn't want to face six long days of detention. There was really no bargaining with the principal, but I guess he liked me enough to give me what I asked for. I think the usual paddling was between three and five spanks.

Our paddles were big too.. I am unsure the measurement, but were much longer than the ones they used in jr high.. They hurt more cause of it

I would estimate our paddle was about two feet long and six inches wide. Naturally I wasn't measuring it at the time, but it felt like I was being swatted with a diving board. Some of the other ladies at work who were paddled as schoolgirls say their paddles were similar, probably whipped up in wood shop class.

Ours were way more narrow, but just as long.. I don't know where ours came from.. Maybe the boys in shop made them.. I didn't ask.. They used to get broke often though

I have no idea if our paddle broke and had to be replaced because paddlings were very private and rarely talked about. Judging from the number of signatures and messages on our paddle, it seems to have been in use for a long time without breaking. Remember, our principal was not as quick to paddle as some of the other administrators in the area, some of whom were absolute fanatics when it came to paddling.

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thanks for sharing - you write well.

Something good happened !

Thanks, Coolsmile! I guess a blistered bottom was a good tradeoff for healthy lungs.

could not agree more as I work around lung cancer patients.

Most important thing about this is how your teachers behave ! where ever they are, i take my hat off for them

Yeah I admit the teachers were pretty good, except maybe for the woman who turned me in. I wanted to kick her right in the skirt. But again, my principal was very nice and understanding even when he was paddling me!

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Quite a vivid account of your VERY pain-full experience. It probably took more than a week, maybe closer to 10 days before the bruising went away entirely. Although school paddlings definitely worked on many offenders and almost definitely deterred many others, it has been largely legislalated away, and for better or worse one reason is because of the real damage the traditional wooden school paddle can do in the hands of an inexperienced school administrator or teacher--think hitting the coccyx, for example.
Where I came from school paddlings were given with a paddle shaped very thick piece of leather. Though it stung incredibly, yet it was not rigid and so did not cause as much deep down bruising like you described and I experienced albeit not in a school setting.

Kent, I still can't believe how much that hurt--I still can feel the pain in my mind thirty-seven years after the fact!
True, you do have to know how to paddle properly so you don't injure the kid permanently. The routine of "taking aim" was more than a show--there was a practical reason for it. As you read, I was wearing a rather puffy pleated skirt which easily could have hidden the contours of my cheeks if the principal didn't know exactly where they were! And although they hurt like the devil himself, he managed to get all six spanks right on the place where I sit-the lower butt, to avoid hitting my tailbone. However, this added to my discomfort when I sat all day on hard school seats! I must admit, he was very good at his task! He was also very kind to me all through what he probably knew was a terrible ordeal for me. As much as he didn't want to, he had to paddle me with the same force as he did anyone else. It was only fair.
Most paddles in my school area were made of wood, most likely wipped up in wood shop. Some had holes or slashes, but ours did not. A very infamous paddle was used in one of the Buffalo schools--it was a sawed-off canoe paddle with big holes drilled into it. I'm glad I didn't go to Buffalo! But one grade-school principal in our district used a rubber hose rather than a paddle. Now the school is named after her, so apparently the administration approved of her methods.
Obviously girls were shown no mercy when it came to being paddled. At my lunch table at work we somehow got into the conversation of school paddling, and just about every woman at the table said she had been paddled as a schoolgirl. It's funny, but many people from other states think New York didn't paddle. My behind says different!
Thanks for a great response!
Pamela Ann

Hi Pam, Your account is very well written. It has persuaded me to share my own experience here.

Well I'm glad you took the inspiration! Brought back memories, huh? They seem to like your story too--longer and more detailed. Thanks for sharing!
Pamela Ann

Hi Pamela!,An excellently written account of your school chastisement. As you know I caught it twice at school myself. I still can't believe knowing stories of your mother that you didn't catch it again at home but I guess she felt your bottom had paid enough. I was not as fortunate. When I was paddled in the 4th grade, she was waiting at the front door with a switch in hand. In the 8th since the paddling took place after school, we girls swore each other to secrecy to save our bottoms further abuse so my mother didn't find out. FYI, the paddling in the 8th grade was for smoking on school property. Kendra

Yeah, smoking sure results in a lot of bruised behinds! But although my mom was strict, she was very fair. If I was paddled at school, then I had been duly punished for my offense and there was no need to give me more at home as a supplement! But I have to say, my friends all got spanked at home for getting in trouble at school, and they said I was lucky that way.

I got spanked a few times in elementary school, grades 1-4. They were just hand spankings over clothes - nothing much at all. No crying, just my embarrassment as the teacher would spank in front of the entire class.

But then, in the afternoon when I got home from school, my mom would be waiting. Instead of the customary hug upon arrival at home, she would take me by the arm into the living room. The hairbrush would be waiting on the coffee table. In a New York minute, she had me pants down, face down over her lap for a thorough hiney warming with that awful hairbrush.

That's why I say that my principal was very nice about the whole paddling incident. As opposed to many principals and VP's, he did not make any cute comments as to how he was going to send me to the moon, or how I was going to feel this whenever I tried to sit down, etc. As youread, he actually tried to talk me out of the paddling! Not too many principals would do that! Still, he sure laid it on good and proper for someone who didn't want to spank me! I know he couldn't go easier on me because it would have been favoritism at best, or sexism at worst because he gave a girl special consideration.

That sounds like a very painful and humbling experience at age 17. If it was really the reason you never smoked again, then those red and purple circles were a very short term bit of damage compared to all the life-threatening damage possible from the cigarettes. You must have been sneaky to get hooked on smoking at age 14.

Boy was it ever! I still can't believe how much that hurt. I figured if I was actually breaking school rules and getting punished because of a cigarette, then it was time to quit. I've been smoke-free for 27 years. It's funny, but as strict as my mom was--and as a nurse to boot--she didn't stop me from smoking, although she disapproved of it. I guess she figured someday I would find out the hard way. My own stupid fault.

That's 37 years--bad math or bad typing.

i got the cane 6 of the best i had to bend over and put my head onto a chair seat and not move problem was i had not done any thing to deserve it my mum gave him such a telling off

I was paddled at school one time also. I got 3 swats on my gym shorts from Mrs. Wimby, the vice principal. Sitting was not easy, but your's sure sounds a whole lot worse.

In talking to others, I concluded that my paddling was very typical, except I volunteered to take it all at once, something that I probably would not do if I had to do it over. Normally a paddling would have been three or four swats, and because of fairness the girls were swatted as hard as the boys.

That is one hell of a lot! The usual dose at our school, and the average for all paddling states, was three. Some girls I know got four and five. I know after what I got i sure didn't want to go back for seconds!

Smoking can have painful consequences! You learnt a good lesson Bad Pam!