I Was Punished By My 6th Grade Teacher For Flashing My Panties
--- By Becky Romero ---
I had been caught goofing off with a boy in class after lunch. He had a tennis ball in his book bag and was tossing it up at the ceiling when our teacher left the room for a few minutes. At one point, it bounced away from him and rolled down the aisle towards me. I picked it up and was teasing him with it, pretending I was going to keep it. He started to get mad, demanding it back. So I tossed it to him, plunking him on the head in the process (not on purpose, just a bad throw), just as our teacher walked back through the door.
Ms. Case was a no-nonsense, 60-something witch substituting for our regular 6th grade teacher who was out on maternity leave. My former first grade teacher, Ms. Case had semi-retired a year earlier and now worked in the front office. She was also the de-facto assistant principal at our small private school.
Having seen me throw the tennis ball, Ms. Case yelled out, "Miss Romero!"
I was told to stand up by my desk, and at first was scolded for goofing off. But then the other shoe dropped.
"And another thing, Becky. Proper young ladies don't go showing boys what's under their skirts."
"Oh, no!" I thought to myself. She had seen what I was doing at lunchtime, with one of my girlfriends. We had been swinging our knees wide open back and forth so that a couple of cute boys in 7th grade we liked to flirt with could see the triangle patch of white cotton panties in between our thighs as we sat there. It was a game of us trying to flash them when the momentarily glanced away and them trying to catch us in the act. Eventually, I had gotten perhaps too bold when, with my legs spread, I lifted up the front of my skirt all the way to its waistband, flashing the two boys not only the front of my panties but several inches of flesh above so as well.
When I protested (and lied) that I hadn't done that, she said, "Don't you lie to me, young lady. I saw exactly what you were doing, as well as you, Melanie."
Whispering and low-level giggles could now be heard throughout the classroom.
"Shame on both of you," she continued. "Becky, come up to the front of the class."
A boy sitting near me who I knew from first grade whispered to another boy, "Ha! Ha! Becky's going to get a spanking."
The other boy teased me, "Yeah! On her bare butt! Becky Bare-Butt! Becky Bare-Butt!"
(I had acquired that nickname from the only other time Ms. Case had spanked me - back in first grade)
Stopping at his desk and slapping his arm, I said, "I AM not! And she wouldn't dare anyway!"
Ms. Case overheard that and said, "Oh, really, Becky? You think I wouldn't? You weren't showing any modesty on the playground out there. Maybe a spanking like that will teach you how to act like a young little lady. Same goes for you, Melanie."
After making me sweat it out for a few minutes - at the time I thought for sure I was going to get a spanking - the boy, Wesley, who I had conked on the head spoke up, explaining it was just an accident with the tennis ball.
Miraculously, Ms. Case seemed satisfied by the boy's explanation. However, because of the class disruption we caused, we were both sent to the principal's office to get a punishment slip. Benchings and extra homework would be our sentence, which seemed quite reasonable. Once out into the safety of the hallway and the staircase heading downstairs, I grabbed Wesley and gave him a huge kiss on the mouth. It was my first such kiss. He told me later it had been his, as well. But I was so grateful for what he had done for me, I couldn't resist expressing my appreciation further before we got downstairs. He didn't mind that at all, either.
After five or so minutes we both returned to the classroom, having held hands practically until we got to the doorway. As we each handed Ms. Case our punishment slip to prove we had met with the principal (thankfully, the tennis ball part of the story was all we needed to tell him), I glanced over at my friend Melanie, who was sitting in her desk in the front row. She was sobbing, her face red as a beat. The boys around her were quietly giggling amongst themselves. What had happened? I soon found out firsthand.
Ms. Case called me out into the hallway, some of my classmates overhearing my pleas out there which feel on deaf ears.
When we returned into the classroom, Ms. Case held my panties in her hands and announced to me as well as my whole class, "Becky, since you are not ashamed to let everyone see your panties, this is where they will remain until next Friday."
And with that, she pinned my panties up above the right front corner of the chalkboard, as all but my closest friends erupted into laughter. That's when I noticed that on the other side of the chalkboard pinned up were Melanie's panties. And there was where our panties stayed, on display for all to see for a whole week and to serve as a warning to any other girl in our class who desired to flash her panties.