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Spanked by teacher

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I knew the gym storage room pretty well. It was like a long windowless walk-in closet. Both walls were lined with hooks holding things like baseball gloves.

The odor of the place was heavy with leather, Neatsfoot oil, rubber balls, and sweat. Besides storage of sporting gear, the gym storage room was the private place where the gym teachers took students for punishment.

I had never heard an actual spanking happen there, but I had overheard several students, both male and female get paddled there. Sometimes the sounds were quite dreadful.

Now I was going in there to be spanked. I truly hoped that no students would walk into the gym while it was happening! It was bad enough that the janitor was still there.

She knew just what to do, so she had obviously done this before. I wondered if I was the first boy she had ever spanked. She had to repeat herself to penetrate my addled brain, but was remarkably patient.

It would have been easier if she had been nasty to me, because then I could hate her. First she made me stand in front of her, and then she pinioned me there with her eyes.

In a fog, my eyes swimming with tears, I obeyed. I unzipped, unbuckled, unbuttoned, and then finally dropped my pants to my ankles.

Her hands circled my waist. Almost immediately, a hand on my back urged me across her bony lap. I was bare bottom across her lap, but she clearly had avoided the sight of my boyish groin.

At least, for now! As she toasted my buns, I screamed, begged and yelled like some first-grader. I must also have struggled, but I was no match for Miss Epps.

Kielander spank a few kids over the years. Her spankings are short, almost violent affairs. Usually we hear nothing until the spanking starts, then we hear several sharp, fast, slaps before the spanked student suddenly starts crying, or screaming.

The spanking I got from Miss Epps was nothing like that. Then she stopped! Finally she finished off the job with a series of extra-hard spanks that had me frantically screeching.

By now, my pants were half kicked off, but my underpants still bound my ankles together. To my surprise, she actually pulled me into a long hug. She told me to take as long as I needed, but then to see her in the office.

Twenty minutes later, I finally slinked out of that storeroom. Miss Epps produced a damp washcloth and gently washed the tears from my face. Then she sat me down actually I stood for a sincere discussion of the importance of honesty and the pitfalls of cheating.

I still had to face Mrs. Bray, my teacher, my class, those hard classroom chairs, and the wrath of my parents. Even today, a sniff of a well-used, well-oiled baseball glove triggers an image of that gym storeroom.

Thoughts of the storeroom always trigger memories of that spanking and the shameful indiscretion that caused it. There was one near-daily thought that I had more trouble processing.

I could only deal with this particular thought under the sheets in the privacy of my bedroom. How is a boy supposed to deal with that memory?

But actually I never had an over the knee spanking. School punishment was on the hands, and home punishment was on the bottom through pants with a cane, but standing up, held by one arm.

An over the knee bare-bottom spanking would have been preferable. Excellent short story! The subject of a young schoolboy's bare bottom spanking by a female teacher was presented very tastefully.

The actual spanking was not at all gratuitous, but rather was the climax to a kid's learning experience that I and many readers can relate to.

The teacher's requirement that the kid maintain eye contact with her as she pulled down his underpants was a nice, unexpected touch.

This technique for avoiding eye contact with the lad's frontal nudity was a "seminal moment" in the story.

This touch of class maintained the dignity of both the teacher and the boy. It kept the story of the errant kid's discipline by a professional educator on track.

Well done! My principal found a reason to correct me on a weekly basis. Pants briefs folded neatly in chair over the knee My feelings were very intense and ended with a slippery mess.

Years later I realize what happened. I remember one time I did not bring in my homework. This seemed a little juvenile to year old, but there was also something warm and intimate about this over-the-lap post-spanking discussion.

I got an erection from the surprising intimacy and her warm tone - I can't really explain why. When she let me off her lap, my stiff erection was in full view but she said nothing about it.

She pulled my briefs up and tucked my erect penis inside them, follwoed by my trousers. She gave me a final smack on my trouser-covered bottom and sent me home.

The next day, all of my classmates asked me if I got my bare fanny spanked. The girls were particularly merciless, asking if my willy was exposed and if I cried.

I admitted to nothing, but they all knew! In high school, paddlings were given by the principal and school disciplinarian. This was usually done in private, except for one time when several boys were caught smoking dope and were paddled in the auditorium in front of the ENTIRE school.

Post a message: This forum requires an account to post. All Rights Reserved. If any of your family or friends were police officers they would likely have attended the C.

Bick Police College. Whenever I think of Mr. Barrett, I am reminded of the strap, or as we used to say, Did he give you the slugs?

After a dust-up at the bicycle rack one day, Mr. Barrett picked it up and caressed it tenderly. Fortunately however, after giving me a good talking to, he put the strap back on the desk.

What Mr. So Mr. Barrett was fortunate to escape the horse whip and my father was fortunate to escape a criminal charge.

Anson Taylor later became the director of education for Scarborough. In that capacity he interviewed and hired my wife Louise for a Scarborough teaching position.

If he had turned her down, Louise would have likely returned to the one-room school house just outside her home town of Cobourg, Ontario where she had been teaching previously.

My mother was active in the association when I went to the school and later when our daughters, Kim and Andrea, both attended Rolph, my wife Louise played an active role in it.

Robin Dickie, Carolyn Armstrong, Petra Grantham and the present Rolph Road Home and School Association deserve an enormous thank you from our entire community for their tremendous work in making the 75th anniversary such a great success.

Though not unkind, but she was firm and businesslike with us students. In her role as gatekeeper, Mrs.

She always read the note first, and passed a sort of judgment, deciding if we should see the Principal herself or just her Assistant.

She also exerted influence in another way. The Principal and Assistant Principal shared a single paddle, which resided in Mrs. There was nothing I could say.

I just looked at the floor. This will really upset your parents. You know that cheating is one thing that Mrs.

Bray mentioned my parents. She attended our church, so she knew my parents and saw them regularly. She was telling me that my parents would definitely hear of my crime.

She opened a file drawer, searched, and then pulled out a file. It had my name on it. My eyes filled with tears as she opened it to a certain page and made the damming notation.

I assumed that my permanent file now had me forever branded as a cheater. After neatly punching two holes in the note, she fastened it inside my file before carefully replacing it.

Then she pronounced sentence, sort of. Bray announced that Mrs. Kielander and her Assistant were downtown for a conference.

She would deliver me to Mr. So now you know why the school secretary was escorting me to the gym. As we approached the office I was initially hopeful to see that Mr.

However, the female gym teacher, Miss Epps sat behind her desk. Over half a century later, I can still picture Miss Epps like it was yesterday. She was a dour lady with a sinewy and athletic body.

She kept her hair short and had a mannish walk, but I was far too young to understand the possible implications of her mannerisms. Since it was quite unthinkable back then for any professional woman to report to work in shorts, her favorite garment was kulats.

The ones that she wore looked so much like a normal skirt that I only noticed because she had once spread her legs wide in response to a query from a girl.

Only then did I see daylight between the two halves of her skirt. First, Miss Epps reminded the secretary of something she should have remembered; Mr.

Dickens was out for the rest of the day with family issues. When told what I had done, Miss Epps gasped appropriately and regarded me with a raised eyebrow.

Are you allowed to do it? Kielander would want us to do. I felt physically sick. My knees were shaky and my mouth was dry. A paddling is done over the clothing, so there would be little concern over my gender.

However, at least in my school, a spanking was a very different thing. Spankings were a very private event that happened only in the school office or in the gym storage room, because spankings were always given bare bottom.

Thinking back from the safety of decades of time, it seems odd to me that my feelings were entirely of fear and mortification without the slightest sexual interest.

Yes, I had discovered that it felt good to massage myself under the sheets, and I usually fanaticized about spankings whilst doing that. But now, faced with the prospect of a very real spanking, I felt no sexual interest.

Bray left me alone with Miss Epps. I was so scared that my teeth actually chattered. The tears that dripped off my chin had no effect on the lady. She was silent for a long time, watching me like a snake in a cage watches a sacrificial mouse.

What happened? All I could do was shrug and sob. I was surprised that she even knew my name. Also surprising was her almost kind tone of voice.

Perhaps after that we could have a nice talk OK? Then she instructed me to remove my shoes. Sitting in a handy chair, I obeyed. On reflection however, I think she may have been afraid of me bolting.

Being shoeless would greatly limit my range. Since she picked up the chair and not her paddle, it was now clear that I was to be spanked, rather than just suffer a few paddle swats.

Just as I feared, we turned left and walked the ten feet to the storage room door. Using the keys that always dangled from her waist, she opened the door and snapped on the light.

Dumbly, I peered into my punishment cell. I knew the gym storage room pretty well. It was like a long windowless walk-in closet.

Both walls were lined with hooks holding things like baseball gloves. The odor of the place was heavy with leather, Neatsfoot oil, rubber balls, and sweat.

Besides storage of sporting gear, the gym storage room was the private place where the gym teachers took students for punishment.

I had never heard an actual spanking happen there, but I had overheard several students, both male and female get paddled there.

Sometimes the sounds were quite dreadful. Now I was going in there to be spanked. I truly hoped that no students would walk into the gym while it was happening!

It was bad enough that the janitor was still there. She knew just what to do, so she had obviously done this before.

I wondered if I was the first boy she had ever spanked. She had to repeat herself to penetrate my addled brain, but was remarkably patient.

It would have been easier if she had been nasty to me, because then I could hate her. First she made me stand in front of her, and then she pinioned me there with her eyes.

In a fog, my eyes swimming with tears, I obeyed. I unzipped, unbuckled, unbuttoned, and then finally dropped my pants to my ankles.

Her hands circled my waist. Almost immediately, a hand on my back urged me across her bony lap. I was bare bottom across her lap, but she clearly had avoided the sight of my boyish groin.

At least, for now! As she toasted my buns, I screamed, begged and yelled like some first-grader. I must also have struggled, but I was no match for Miss Epps.

Kielander spank a few kids over the years. Her spankings are short, almost violent affairs. Usually we hear nothing until the spanking starts, then we hear several sharp, fast, slaps before the spanked student suddenly starts crying, or screaming.

The spanking I got from Miss Epps was nothing like that. Get in touch with our news team by emailing us at webnews metro. For more stories like this, check our news page.

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