Story: Forgotten Textbook F/f nc
beth83
Forgotten Textbook F/f nc This story is a work of fiction.
When I heard Mrs. Rodriguez tell us to get out our algebra books, my stomach
dropped. I hoped that she wouldn’t notice that I didn’t have mine, but nothing
escapes Mrs. Rodriguez’s attention. As soon as I walked into the room, I
realized that I had brought the wrong book by mistake, but there wasn’t time to
go back to my locker. I hoped that maybe today would be different and that we
wouldn’t need our books, but no such luck.
“Beth, where is your textbook?” Mrs. Rodriguez asked me.
“I accidentally left it in my locker, Mrs. Rodriguez,” I replied, my stomach
continuing its descent.
“Beth, would you please come to the front of the room,” I heard her say firmly.
“Yes, ma’am,” I politely answered as my stomach started doing flip flops.
A month ago, a forgotten textbook would have been no big deal at Harrison High
School, but a month ago, Mr. Fisher, fed up with student apathy, instituted a
new set of rules announced one Friday at an assembly. Although paddling had
always been allowed at Harrison, it was rare, and it was almost unheard of for
teachers to do the paddling themselves. Usually they just sent the misbehaving
student to the office where they might get paddled but probably not. All that
changed after the assembly. Mr. Fisher announced that he was bringing the
paddle back into the classroom. Tardies, forgotten materials, and missing
homework were all automatic paddling offenses. Teachers were also STRONGLY
encouraged to paddle for any infraction of classroom rules. At the end of the
assembly, we were given notices to take home to our parents about the new
policy.
My parents were just about ecstatic when they read the new rules. Both my
parents are firm believers in corporal punishment, even though I hadn’t been
spanked since I was a freshman two years ago. They promptly reminded me of the
family rule that a spanking at school means a spanking at home. Oh, no, I
inwardly groaned. Not only was I going to get paddled in front of the whole
class, but now I could look forward to getting spanked by Daddy with his belt
tonight, too.
I arrived at the front of the room. I knew my face had to be bright red from
embarrassment. Mrs. Rodriguez had already retrieved the paddle from its hook on
the wall. The Monday after the assembly, all the classrooms had identical
paddles hanging on the wall. The wood shop class had been quite busy.
“Beth, would you please ask Mrs. Jarrell if she can come witness,” Mrs.
Rodriguez asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” I answered. I trudged across the hall to Mrs. Jarrell’s room.
Why did she have to pick her to witness, I thought. Mrs. Jarrell was known to
be an enthusiastic supporter of the new rules and to have already gone through
two paddles. And to make matters worse, I would have to have her next year for
trigonometry. I knocked on her door and waited for her to answer.
“Yes, what can I do for you?” she asked after opening her door. Mrs. Jarrell is
a large, energetic woman. Luckily, she wouldn’t be the one giving me licks,
although Mrs. Rodriguez wasn’t known for being any kind of pushover.
“Mrs. Jarrell,” I began, “Uh, Mrs. Rodriguez, uh, wants to, uh, know if you can,
uh, be a witness, uh, for, a paddling,” I finally managed to get out.
“I see,” she answered. “And would you be the one getting paddled?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, my face turning bright red again.
“And what did you do to earn yourself a paddling, young lady?” she inquired.
“I forgot my book,” I whispered.
“I would be delighted to witness a well deserved paddling,” she said, and with
that, she took me by the arm and marched me back to my class as if she thought I
might try to escape.
“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Jarrell,” my teacher said once we were inside the
room. “I suppose that Beth has told you why she is to be paddled. I must say
that I really am surprised and disappointed in you Beth. I never thought I
would have to paddle you. Well, there’s no use in putting this matter off any
longer. Do you have anything in your back pockets?” she asked.
“No, ma’am,” I managed to squeak out.
“What’s the penalty for failure to bring proper supplies,” Mrs. Rodriguez asked.
“Three licks, ma’am,” I responded in the same squeaky voice.
“That’s correct, three licks, and I intend to make each one hurt so that you
never forget your textbook again,” she said. “Put your toes on the tape, bend
over, and put your hands flat on my desk.”
I did as she told, putting my toes on the tape line that had appeared in all of
the classrooms the same day as the paddles did. The tape lines were put in
front of each teacher’s desk so that your bottom would face the class. I felt
the paddle against my bottom as Mrs. Rodriguez got a feel for the distance. My
whole body tensed. WHACK! The first lick lifted me up on my toes. It was all
I could do to keep my hands flat on the desk. WHACK! I thought I was seeing
stars, it hurt so bad. WHACK! I fought back the tears that wanted desperately
to exit my eyes. It was embarrassing enough to have been paddled in front of
the class. I may have had to treat them to my bottom being paddled, but I
certainly wasn’t going to treat them to seeing me cry.
“You may stand up now, Beth,” I heard Mrs. Rodriguez say. "I hope it will not
be necessary to paddle you in the future. After you sign the class punishment
log, you may return to your seat.”
I slowly stood up to sign my name in the punishment log that had appeared in
each classroom at the same time as the tape and paddle. In only a month’s time,
the first page had already been filled, and I found my name halfway down the
second page where Mrs. Rodriguez had written: Beth Robinson, Forgotten
Textbook, Three Licks. I could hear Mrs. Rodriguez thanking Mrs. Jarrell as I
signed my name. As I made my way back to my desk, both my face and butt were
burning terribly. It was all that I could do to keep from rubbing the sting
from my bottom, but I had to keep a least a small measure of dignity.
As I was leaving her class at the end of the period, Mrs. Rodriguez reminded me
that she would be calling my parents that afternoon to inform them of my
punishment. I thought about begging her not to, but I knew that it would do me
no good. Instead, I spent the rest of the day wondering which belt Daddy had
on, and dreading the whipping that I knew would be waiting for me when I got
home from cheerleading practice.
Your comment - good or bad - are most welcome.
MsBhavinU
daddy? (please do!)
Ms.BhavinU
kerrsut...@hotmail.com
Helen
FaustOW
couple of personal experiences. This was well done and realistic, sadly
most real paddlings in schools are too short to make
for juicy fiction. The spanking itself was well supplemented by the emotional
details that are so interesting in the stories, keep it up!
Faust
discobolus
Firmly2
contact us? Sarah