Postage Due by Peaches (3/3)

Monday morning just before break my boss, Headmaster Ross, sent a note
that I was to come to his office immediately.  Knowing he usually finished
opening the mail before break, I could guess what the postmaster had added
to it today.

I walked down the hall twitching and already wet with just my wild
imagination of the coming meeting.  I was wearing a cream blouse and full
floral skirt.  Unfortunately, I did not feel like wearing undies after my
lessons from Brother Wayne, so my underwear selection was limited.  I was
wearing a black lace thong...no pantie hose...just ankle socks and Keds. 
I chose the thong, since I was still tender; but if Headmaster Ross
followed the status quo, then my butt was in hot water.

Headmaster Ross was just a year older than me.  In fact, Chuck Ross was my
childhood playmate and the boy next door.  When things got serious in high
school, our friendship became strained.  He said I flirted and teased
boys.  I got mad at him after one of these discussions.  That night I
stood him up for the Prom, instead attending it with a college student I
knew.  Chuck went anyway, but his judging eyes never left me that night.

As headmaster, Chuck was a firm believer in corporal punishment.  I had
witnessed a few, when an errant student had gone too far.  The boy or girl
would bend over his low coffee table, then would position their young,
jerking heinies for Chuck's paddle...appropriately named the "Board of
Education".  The instrument of correction was 18 inches long, a half-inch
thick with ten holes drilled in the business end.  Most paddlings were
over the student's clothes.  However, if the student had a choice of being
kicked out or bending for the paddle...that paddling was on very naughty
and very bare butts.  Those special paddlings were always witnessed by the
parents of the student, with the father administering the first and final
licks.

Chuck and I had first hand knowledge of bare bottom paddlings in this very
office.  My junior year after the Homecoming game, we had been caught
drinking with a group of students behind the field house.  Headmaster
Collins kept his swinging arm conditioned that week for ten nervous
students.  Chuck and I got our licks on the same day.  I remember
Headmaster Collins telling me to pull down my panties and lift my skirt
out of the way.  Daddy grabbed me around the waist and gave me fifty HARD
hand swats, then taking the paddle from Headmaster Collins, he growled,
"Bend your bad butt for wood, girl."  He swung and I bet my answering howl
was heard throughout the school, downtown, and in the next county.  Daddy
handed the paddle back to the Headmaster, who swung just as forcefully for
the next twenty-three strokes, then returned the paddle to Daddy for the
final blow.  I jumped and howled for ten minutes before Headmaster Collins
said to dress and go to class.  That evening in the backyard Chuck and I
compared blistered bottoms.  As Chuck consoled me rubbing my heated flesh,
I became hot for his touch...wondering how HOT I would feel if he had been
the one to spank me.

I woke from my silent musings.  Headmaster Ross had left me sitting
outside the office waiting to see him -- just like a student about to be
punished.  My next period was a planning period, so Chuck knew he had
forty-five minutes to make me stew.
 
              *          *          *          *

Inside the office Chuck was finishing reading the second story in "Sassy
Ladies".  Leaning back he thought...so that's what she has been
wanting...someone to take charge over her and whip her ass when necessary.
 Suddenly her behavior for the past twenty years began to make sense.

She must have discovered this need of hers the day of the Homecoming bare
paddlings, because ever since then she had tested his patience.  Chuck
looked out the window mindlessly slapping the spanking issue against his
palm.  He remembered her flirting with any male that she knew he disliked
in high school...especially, standing him up for the Prom and going with
Quick Larry.

He smiled as he remembered back to that night as he told Peaches' father
about Larry's reputation and that she had not broken her date with him
first.  When Peaches got home from the dance, Chuck had hidden outside her
bedroom window for the coming attraction.  He watched as her father hauled
her into the room...telling her to strip to her bra and panties in front
of him.  He then took her over his knee for a hundred hard hand
whacks...next standing her up and pointing her to the shower to bathe the
perfume and makeup from her body.  Afterwards, before she could dry off,
he dragged a wet whimpering child back into the room for a hundred strokes
of the hairbrush.  For the next thirty minutes her deep red bottom
twitched and jiggled in the corner.  Finally, she was called to her
father's den.  That could mean only one thing...the strap.  Though Chuck
felt sorry for Peaches...well half-heartedly sorry for her...as he watched
her punished rear gyrate with her father's strokes; he could not help but
wish that it was him holding the swinging leather.

Chuck blinked, then looked at the clock.  He had forty-five minutes to
straighten out twenty years of polite anger between them.  Chuck smiled
thinking...well, I don't have time to do everything I would like; but
she'll go back to class with blushing cheeks and knowing whose her boss at
school and at home from now on.  He went to the door.

           *          *          *          *          *

I felt like a guilty student waiting to be punished.  How long was he
going to make me wait.  I wondered how much his secretary ...that nosy
bitty...knows about the mail.  Suddenly the door opened and there stood
Headmaster Ross towering over me.

"Miss Randall.  Would you come in, please."  He said in his practiced
headmaster voice as he held the door for me to pass through.

Walking to the chair in front of his desk, I saw my latest issue of "Sassy
Ladies"...and next to it the paddle.  Headmaster Ross took his place
behind the desk picking up the magazine.

"Miss Randall, I believe this belongs to you.  It was in with the school's
mail.  I opened it thinking it was something for your creative writing
class."  Raising an eyebrow he asked, "Is it?"

I looked down...wringing my hands in my lap...nervously wiggling in my
chair thinking how tender my rear end still was from Brother Wayne's
lesson Sunday.  Glancing at the paddle on Headmaster Ross's desk, I
thought...no way can I take that now.

"ANSWER ME, MISS RANDALL."  he barked.

I searched my mind thinking...what the HELL was the question....oh, the
mail....creative writing class.  "No, it's not for school...it's
personal."

"So Miss Randall, are you telling me that you fantasize about having a man
bare your naughty bottom for spankings."  Chuck spoke sternly, but I swear
his eyes were laughing.

Meekly I answered, "Yes, Mr. Ross."

He pushed back from the desk to give him room.  Picking up the paddle and
slapping it to his palm, he said, "Come here, Miss Randall."

With tear-filled eyes I begged, "Oh please Mr. Ross.  Not the paddle.  I
can't take much more.  It's been a horrible month with my mail going all
over town."  I began to sob in earnest.

Chuck's demeanor broke as he put down the paddle and held out his arms to
me.  "Peaches, honey, come here."

Flying to him, I sat in his lap.  Taking comfort in his arms, I tearfully
told him the story of my mail.  I told him about Brother Wayne and Jeff
Mosley, but thought it would be wise to leave out about my relationship
with Jeff.

With loving concern Chuck asked, "You're still tender from your spanking
from Brother Wayne?"

"Uh huh." I shifted my weight and tucked my head against his shoulder.

"Let me see."  Chuck flipped me over before I could protest and raised my
skirt to inspect the damage.  His hand tenderly massaged my bottom. 
Poking a finger into the flesh, I cringed as a pain was reawakened.   

Frowning Chuck asked, "Peaches, where is your underwear?"

"I couldn't stand to wear hose today."  I answered thinking that was what
he meant.

He softly tapped my exposed, raised buttocks then continued the
questioning, "I don't mean the hose.  I mean your panties.  Where are
those white cotton briefs you usually wear?"  Then getting madder, "DAMMIT
PEACHES, where the HELL is your underwear?"

I was getting angry but was still confused, "Chuck, I'm wearing
underwear."

"WHERE?"

"IT'S A THONG!!!" I could yell too.

Chuck dove a finger in my crack and retrieved the small string that held
my undies together.  He got madder.

"Peggy Sue Randall!  You call this appropriate dress to wear as you stand
in front of your students?"  

I panicked...afterall I was upside down across his lap...and that was his
hand firmly pressing on my exposed heinie.  "Ch..ch..Chuck.  It was the
only thing clean that I could stand to wear today.  I'm sorry."

"You coach drill team this afternoon.  What if the wind catches your full
skirt and shows all THIS to the children."  Seeing just how white and
relatively unmarked her bottom was, Chuck hissed, "I think the lady
protests too much about her sore tush.  You've taken worse from your
father...I know...I saw.   Damnit Peggy Sue, I can't believe you wore that
scrap of fabric to school."  His control broke as he began firm hard slaps
to my buttocks.  Rapidly the hue changed from white...to pink...and
finally deep red.

I gritted my teeth...damnit, I'm not going to yell and let his secretary
hear me.  No doubt she's hearing the spanking and knows I'm the only one
in here with him.  I twisted and kicked, trying to avoid his steady
rhythm.

After a hundred slaps, Chuck stopped to rub my throbbing heinie.  He
flipped me to sit on my punished cheeks on his lap.  Feeling his firm
thighs against my flaming fanny almost undid me.  Chuck stroked my hair,
as he wiped and kissed the tears my face.  "Miss Randall.  We have ten
minutes to get you presentable for American Literature.  Tonight I'll come
over and help you with your laundry.  I want to make sure you have plenty
of white briefs for school."

Without thinking I replied,  "I can't tonight.  I have a date."

"YOU HAVE WHAT!"  Chuck paused tightening his grip on my waist.  "Break
it."

"Chuck, I can't.  It's Jeff."

He roared, "Jeff Mosley.  He's fourteen years older than you.  Not to
mention his seven failed marriages and stud history."  He face turned red
with rage as a new thought crossed his mind.  "Peggy Sue Randall if you
slept with him, it better have been safe sex."

Blushing I softly answered, "It was....safe sex."

Suddenly he stood us up and raised the back of my skirt...his hands
cupping my heated flesh.  "Peaches, this belongs to me and no one else. 
Afterschool today,  I want you back in this office bent over bare for
twenty-five from the "Board of Education".  I trembled as he took charge.

Chuck continued,  "Then we're going to Jeff Mosley's office where you'll
raise your skirt to show your blistered backside and tell him your butt
belongs to me.  You will break your date and say good-bye forever.  Then
I'm going to haul you to church, where you'll once again expose your
bottom for inspection by Brother Wayne.  You'll tell him that you no
longer require his private counseling, since your husband will attend to
your devious ways."

"Oh, Chuck."  I was crying with joy.

"Then we'll go to your parent's home to tell them of our engagement.  And
I might show your father your butt, so he'll know I can kept it in gear."

"No, please sweetheart.  Don't show Daddy."

"OK," he answered kissing my nose, "We won't show your Dad."  The bell
rang.  Chuck playfully slapped my bottom saying, "Get to class."

Later that day I was bent in Chuck's office for the twenty-five licks of
the paddle.  We paid visits to Jeff and Brother Wayne....I believe they
regretted it when Chuck made it very clear that he was the only one to
spank me in the future.

My parents were thrilled with the news of our engagement.  While Chuck
talked to Dad,  I went to the kitchen with Mom and showed her my blistered
rearend.  Mom smiled the way only a well-strapped wife could.

That brings us back to today with me bent bare for my latest postal
mishap.  I was on my way to meet Chuck at the lake with my tote bag filled
with toys from the "Naughty Victorian".  As I opened the door to leave,  I
came face to face with Daddy.  He was holding an opened box from Shadow
Lane filled with videos, tapes, and stories.  Daddy shoved the box in my
arms yelling, "DID YOU ORDER THIS??"

I took the force of the box in my arms, dropping my tote as rulers,
paddles, canes, and my tawse spilled out.  Daddy slammed the door and
reached to retrieve my toys.  The tawse caught his eye because Chuck had
had it engraved with "Peaches".

Daddy looked up.  "Peggy Sue, I want your wicked butt bare and bend over
your desk.  I brought the strap for your sassy bottom, but I think I'll
try this bit of leather first.  I've been looking for something new for
your mother."

He had finished with the tawsw moments ago;  but still felt I needed the
strap.  Swinging it he commented on how many videos I had bought.  Little
did he know, the videos were mainly Chuck's --- I think he had a crush on
Jennifer Brooks and Tanya Foxx.  As my butt rolled with Daddy's blows, I
thought of the hotseat Chuck would give me for being late to the lake.

But what's a girl to do when so many come requiring payment for postage
due.


THE END