By this time we were well into the second quarter of the school year. I say "quarter," and not "semester," because they're semesters only if there are exactly 2 of them in the year. When there are 4 they are quarters. I don't want to get into why the choice of words is so important to me in this case, I just wanted to point out that they are not semesters. What's important here is that my class schedule was somewhat different. My last period was now a study hall overseen by Sister Beatrice, the old-school nun who scared me a little. I was getting used to her a little and generally getting more confident about things that scared me, which added up to my being far more open to committing an offense that would lead to her sending me to Sister Gaffney's office.
I waited until there was less than 10 minutes left in that study hall and then I made my move. I had been watching Sister Beatrice and I knew just how to get her to look my way. Something as simple as paper tearing would do it much better than something louder.
I had drawn in my notebook a caricature of her with horns and a pitchfork. I made a special point of ripping it out in a way that would make more noise than usual and then quickly balling it up and throwing it while she was looking at me because of the sound of the tear. I threw it to the other side of the room in the general direction of a girl named Natalie. She was like the cutest girl in my class, but didn't like me very much. In retrospect I was probably putting out some sort of lesbian vibe and made her uncomfortable.
Anyway, Sister Beatrice was still looking right at me and asked, "Who threw that?" She had literally just watched me throw it. I knew she had watched me. Nobody said anything. Then she addressed the kid sitting behind me, "Brian, did you see who threw that paper?"
Christ on a crutch! I had this whole thing planned out. She was supposed to ask me directly so I could lie about it and then make a wise-ass joke upon learning I had be caught in a lie, and then Natalie was supposed to open the paper and tell her what was on it. She goes and asks Brian instead.
Brian had a crush on me. He was probably looking at me, and she probably saw that. If he denies it, which he probably will, he's the one caught in a lie. At least he would hesitate first, which would give me a chance to head that whole thing off. I blurted out, "It was Harry Potter!" It was the first name that popped into my head. Harry Potter? Well, it got the same snicker that "bullshit" got last quarter so I guess it wasn't that stupid. But still, damn. Sister Beatrice just stared daggers at me. Then I remembered there was a kid in that study hall who kind of looked like Harry looked in the first movie, and he sat a few rows ahead of me. His first name was John, I don't remember his last name now. I said his name, saying that was who I meant.
He spoke up and said, "I did not! I'm just doing my math homework!"
Sister Beatrice did not take her eyes off me. OK, it looks like things are getting back on track here. I said, "It was somebody right up there. Maybe it was the kid next to you."
Brian chose that moment to speak up. He was talking to me and didn't mean to be heard by everyone else. He said, "Missy, I saw you do it. Stop lying."
Sister Beatrice said, "Well, at least somebody told the truth. John, I can see you're reading a magazine. That's fine, but don't lie about it. Missy, you're going to Sister Gaffney's office."
Brian was fumbling over himself trying to apologize to me. I said to him, "She knew it was me the whole time. It has nothing to do with you. But for future reference, the way I'm talking now, that's how you say something to somebody without the teacher hearing it."
Sister Beatrice was already writing out the punishment slip but stopped long enough to say, "Stop that whispering and come up here, young lady."
Then we heard laughter from the other side of the room. It wasn't Natalie. Somebody else had got my drawing and just looked at it. Now that kid was getting the daggers stare. He said, "Sorry. But if you're mad now, wait until you see what she drew and threw over here." He waved it around a bit.
She told me to bring it to her on my way up to pick up the punishment slip. She rarely raised her voice. She had this way of giving a stern scolding in a quiet tone and didn't need to raise her voice. When she saw that drawing she raised her voice a little. I think it's safe to say she was well and truly pissed. She called me a little brat and said, "Give that to Sister Gaffney too! I'll ask her and make sure you did!"
Sister Gaffney was no more pleased than Sister Beatrice was. My shit-eating grin wasn't helping. She said, "I see the stand-up comic is back." Shaking my drawing, "Do you really think you're funny?"
I wanted to stall a little longer and make sure I got more of a paddling than I did last time, to ensure a most effective warm-up spanking. Rather than answer the question that was asked I said, "Don't rip that! I'm going to want it back."
Now it was her turn to raise her voice. "Do you think this is funny?"
"No, it's not funny. It's hilarious!" I think it's safe to say she never watched "Supernatural." I certainly wasn't supposed to watch it, but I had sneaked and watched several episodes including the one where Dean said that. I was doing my best to imitate him, which I'm sure was lost on her. But the smart-ass attitude, that she picked up on.
"You clearly didn't learn your lesson the last time. This time I'll make sure that you do."
As she considered her limited options I stirred the pot a bit more by simply stating, with the same grin, "You don't scare me." When I saw the look on her face I decided to stop at that.
"You're about to change your tune. The rules allow me to give up to 30 whacks to one student at one time. It is intended for the most incorrigible students with the worst attitude, and you just made the cut." Picking up the paddle she said, "Now bend over and grab your ankles."
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! She changed up her stance a bit and paddled me harder CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Then she stepped back to step into it and do the batter thing again. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! What happened next was a surprise. She lifted up the back of my skirt and resumed batting practice on my underwear. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
She stopped and held the paddle at her side. Wait, didn't I have 10 more coming? In a bone-chilling tone she said, "Pull down your underwear." I was able to comply without standing up. Batting practice resumed on my bare bottom. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
I know that sounds extremely severe, even for a parochial school in Mississippi, to the point of stretching credibility. After all, I hadn't done anything that bad. Bear in mind, however, that this was more because of my attitude than because of my actions. Sister Gaffney had previously given me a more severe paddling than what is usually given to girls my age and that didn't even elicit a reaction from me. Here I was again being a clown and basically daring her to do her worst to me. She did indeed do her worst. I didn't know the penguin had it in her. It was more than I had hoped for.
I had hold of my ankles, getting my bare bottom walloped very hard with this thick holey paddle. I loved it! I was tempted to smart off some more, saying something along the lines of "that's all you got?" just to get more whacks. 30 more, all on the bare, all that hard, would have been just fantastic. My eyes did get a little watery. My research had indicated that girls often cry from a spanking, even if it is purely sexual pleasure for them. That certainly applied to me. As I slowly pulled my underwear up I noticed my pussy was already wet. This had been a great warm-up spanking indeed!
Sister Gaffney looked me in the face and I could see on her face she was disappointed to see that I wasn't closer to a full on cry than just a few tears. But then she said, "At least it had some impact on you this time. You're going to get it again from your mother as soon as you get home, aren't you?" I just nodded. Her face and voice indicated she was getting some sadistic pleasure from the thought of it as she said, "Oh, and it's time to go home now! I bet you at least wish you hadn't acted up so late in the day. Your sore backside is about to be a lot more sore!"
I didn't want to make this sick bitch happy, so I decided to close our little "meeting" with another joke. "You bet? Isn't gambling a sin?"
She looked like she was about to smack my face but she just said, "Just go home to your mother."
I did go home to my mother. She was waiting for me, and she was livid! I had been curious about just how much the school tells her when they call. The closest she had ever come to discussing what any of us kids had done at school to earn a paddling was mentioning a couple highlights in the course of the scolding during the spanking. Clearly they must be telling her at least some of the details. But how much did they really tell her? Apparently the whole story. This time she did want to talk a little.
She called me by my full name, including middle name, as soon as I walked through the door. "So your vice principal doesn't scare you? You're going to continue to mouth off and make jokes after she has paddled you? And how could you make a drawing like that of your teacher?"
I was going to answer that the drawing wasn't hard at all, I have a natural talent for it. And also that Sister Gaffney didn't scare me at all because the worst she could possibly do was nothing next to what I had become accustomed to at home. I got out "It wasn't" and was cut off.
"Stop! Your teacher knows it was you! She literally watched you ball it up and throw it! And then listened to you try to blame your classmate! You are going to learn your lesson right now, young lady! Bring me the paddle!" I did, and as she hiked up her skirt I pulled down my underwear, lifted up my skirt, and was about to bend over her knee. She said, "No. Take it off. Take everything off."
I watched my mom's eyes as she watched me step out of my underwear, slip out of my shoes and socks, and then take off my uniform. She clearly was aroused by looking at my little ten-year-old form standing there in just a bra. My body being a turn on for my mother was a turn on for me. I stood there and enjoyed it for a moment.
It must be a funny feeling, being angry and turned on at the same time. She snapped, "Melissa! Stop stalling! Take that bra off and get over my knee!" I complied. She put her leg across the backs of my legs and held me tight. Her bare leg across my bare legs, my bare hip pressed against her underwear, my bare pussy pressed against her bare thigh. She said, "Now that's better!" and started paddling me with all her considerable strength.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! That warm-up spanking Sister Gaffney had given me really did the trick! I was able to thoroughly enjoy the much harder spanking my mom was giving me. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! I could feel her pussy getting wet already. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Out of habit I squirmed a little. I was very aware of my bare pussy rubbing against my mom's bare thigh, which of course enhanced my pleasure. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
As my mom delivered very hard whacks in a quick steady rhythm she scolded me. "That's what you get for drawing your teacher as the devil!" CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
By this time I was crying pretty hard even though I was in heaven. The physical sensation of the paddling. Having been made to strip for my mother. Seeing in her eyes how turned on she was by it. My bare flesh against her bare flesh. My bare pussy against her bare thigh. Even the scolding was turning me on. And of course the very sexiness of my mother herself. I was making more of a wet spot on her thigh than she was making on my hip. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
She continued to scold me. "That's what you get for lying and trying to blame somebody else!" CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! "For throwing paper during class! For stalling when I told you to take your clothes off!" CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! "For making jokes and having a disrespectful attitude!" CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! "And this is what you get for being a spoiled little brat with a big smart mouth!" CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Yeah, she gets redundant when she runs out of things to say but isn't finished getting her jollies. I'm just glad I get to thoroughly enjoy it this time. I am totally in heaven, over my mom's knee!
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! "I'm going to spank that smart mouth right out of you!" CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
By the time she put down the paddle and let loose her hold on me I had been reduced to a sobbing snot-bubbling heap and was extremely turned on. I lie there crying for the better part of a minute and then she nudged me and guided me to my feet. I was already starting to regain my composure. She handed me a handkerchief and told me to clean myself up. Once I had wiped my face and blown my nose she gave me a hug. This sometimes comes after a spanking but not most of the time.
We wrapped our arms around each-other and she said, "I hope you learned your lesson." She kissed me tenderly on the cheek. The lust was upon me as never before. I just had to eat my mom's pussy! I turned and kissed her on the lips. A short peck which was immediately followed by a longer erotic kiss. I slid my tongue into my mother's mouth and she responded in kind. We made out for a few seconds. I was fully aware I was naked and making out with my mother. I had been wanting this for a while.
It must have taken a few seconds for it to dawn on her that this was really happening. She was actually making out with her own naked ten-year-old daughter. She pushed me away and said, "Melissa! What are you doing?" Like it was just me. Like she wasn't totally getting into it.
I tried to act innocent. "What? I was just giving you a kiss."
She held me at arm's length and said, "Pick up your clothes and go to your room. We'll talk about this later. Or never. Never talk about it. Never do that again."
I complied in as far as picking up my clothes and going to my room. We didn't have to talk about it, but I was definitely going to do it again. Sooner or later I was going to have that pussy. I made myself that solemn vow.
I lie and bed and masturbated to the memory of the spanking and of the kiss and to the thought of eating her pussy. I'm sure she did the same.
This wonderful incestuous adventure was just starting to gear up.
More about that in the next chapter.
If you liked this story, or just want to discuss it, please feel free to write me at missyk989@gmail.com
I'll probably write back, but I might not. Either way I do appreciate feedback.
Thanks,
Missy