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The following story is fiction about high school paddlings.  The story contains scenes of paddling and role reversal.  If these subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.

This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission.  Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.

The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.  Please take a moment to email.

Click to have ​Metric units​ (​American/English units​) used in the story.

Smoking Is a Paddling Offence


The three juniors sat nervously on the bench outside the VP's office.  They had good reason to fidget.  Vice Principal Polkinghorn was known for his great love of the paddle.  The one closest to his heart (if he had one) hung on his wall for all who visited his office to see.  As a decoration it was not very interesting – just a piece of hardwood about ​twenty-one x five x three-quarters inches​ (​fifty-three x thirteen x two cm​) although he replaced it each year.  For students sent to his office for being caught in some misdeed it was an awesome and vicious horror designed and wielded, in the simplest terms, TO BUST THEIR BUTTS.  That the VP liked, nay, LOVED to use it to do exactly that was not a secret.  The three juniors had good reason to worry.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was one of those delicious day that kids love to explore the great outdoors but our heros, Pudlin, Sansburn and Banford, had managed to overcome their natural instincts and went to school as society expected and required for they knew the well-experienced truant officer was very efficient.  Our heros were certainly not angels but healthy red-blooded American youths with a lust for life.  They were first in line at the cafeteria for lunch and carried their food to the far end of the playing fields.  They sat high in the stands to enjoy the view (away from the school), talk about imaginary sexual conquests and to eat to prevent starvation.

If this was all that they did and returned on time for their next class, they would now be back out since the final bell has rung.  Unfortunately for them they encountered Ms. Oldmaid who saw that they were smoking as they ambled back to the confines of their school.  In just a beat of a free bird's wing, Ms. Oldmaid handed out invitations to a special private party with VP Polkinghorn to each of them.

Each of the three almost got a detention for not paying attention in their next three classes for they were concerned about the VP and his excessive love of his vicious paddle.© YLeeCoyote

Polkinghorn called them in together.  "Caught smoking on school grounds." he snapped.

It was not really a question and they knew that the only expected response was "Yes, Sir."  It was well known that discussion resulted in more pops.

"Twelve pops on your jeans, eight on your underpants or six bare; which?"  The principal felt lectures were a waste of time.  He looked at them each in turn.

"Six, Sir."

"Bare, Sir."

"The same, Sir."  were the three answers.

"Drop 'em and get into position, boys."  Mr. Polkinghorn always enjoyed watching how his most deserving victims hesitated as they complied.  They changed three times a week for gym and showers in front of everyone and he had seen these three several times.  He stood there happily patting his hand with his beloved paddle and anticipating roasting three most deserving butts.  One by one they were ready with jeans and underpants lowered and bent over gripping their ankles with their tails sticking up and waiting for the unwelcome kiss of the VP's paddle.

It was now time for the best part.  At least the best part for the VP although not for the three half naked boys with their rumps sticking up for his paddle.  Eighteen pops before he was done.  He checked his distance and raised the paddle.  Then after a delightful few seconds of anticipation and adjusting his pants he let the paddle fall.  Pudlin gave a howl and more than half of his tail turned red.  VP Polkinghorn smiled.

He stepped to the next position and repeated the experience.  Polkinghorn relished each pop for what it did for each of his senses.  Eighteen times he had the joy of raising the paddle and bringing it down hard on the butts of a wayward teens.  He practically came in his trousers.  He luxuriated in the view of six glowing cheeks before ordering them to pull up their pants and surrender their contraband.  Before they got leave to go, they each had to sign the paddle.

The three rushed away as fast as their red hot butts would allow them to go.

* * * * * * * * * *

VP Polkinghorn sat at his desk relishing the happy memory of having paddled three delightful teen butts to a glowing red rivaling Rudolph's proboscis.  After a bit he picked up the pack of cigarettes that led to his great joy this day.  He thought back to when he was in high school and experimented with fags.  He could not help but think about how they were when he experimented.  And then how he smoked during that summer when he worked in the amusement park before college.  It was the same brand that he had smoked and interestingly, the package still looked about the same.  Sansburn had even stuffed the matches inside just as he had done almost quarter of a century earlier.

He noticed the time and realized that the office staff had left already and that he was alone in the building except for the janitorial staff.  He popped one cig out of the pack and studied it closely.  He sniffed it.  It had a little different aroma.  Had they changed the taste also?

He put it between his lips and struck a match.  Three seconds later it was lit and he had his first drag.  One puff lead to another and soon he had almost finished it.

Suddenly the door flew open.  "What is it?" he yelled at the intruder before he realized it was janitor holding a fire extinguisher.

"I smelt smoke.  I thought there was a fire.  I see that it is the fire in hell for a criminal smoking inside the school." snapped the angry man.  "PUT THAT OUT IMMEDIATELY!" and then there was the flash from a camera.  "The board will want to see this."

VP Polkinghorn looked at the man closely.  He recognized him as Raiburn, a graduate from just a few years ago.  He probably would have recognized him from the other end just as well for he had paddled him many times.  And was that a blackmail threat?

"The penalty for smoking is twelve pops, Polkinghorn." Raiburn said sharply.  "Drop 'em and get into position, ASAP mister." was the command as the young janitor took the paddle from the wall and slapped his hand.

Dare he say that it twelve with pants up not down.  He did not know that Railburn would have answer for that – yea – for minors.

"Now boy or I'll send the pix.  Can't have any smoking in my school.  It's very dangerous and unhealthy."  Even as he spoke, Railburn was recalling the thirty-eight times he had dropped his jeans and underpants and presented his butt for the paddle in this very office.  This would surely prove to be a much more pleasant experience – at least for himself.

Polkinghorn dropped his pants and then his underpants and bent over grabbing his ankles as commanded by the recent pupil who had seized control of the situation.

The man found the right position and tapped his bottom.  Then he raised the paddle up high and brought it down hard on target.  Polkinghorn howled in unexpected pain and jumped up grabbing his hot butt.  "When you are ready we can start, Polkinghorn.  Please count out loud."  Polkinghorn resumed his position and the Raiburn swung again.


"Two, sir." squeaked Polkinghorn.

"Counting starts with ONE, boy.  Let's try again from the beginning.  Back into position and don't get up until we are done or there will be extras."

Polkinghorn got back into position and the janitor swung again.


"One, Sir." Polkinghorn said after a pregnant pause that the janitor enjoyed.

Raiburn smiled and continued the paddling.  It was something he had been dreaming about for years – getting even with that bastard of a VP.  He raised and swung that paddle time after time until he heard "Twelve, sir." in a tiny little boy's voice.  It was the sweetest sound he ever heard.  Even sweeter than when he heard the first «yes, let's do it» when he was only fifteen sitting in the back of the movie house with his date.

"Get up, boy."  Raiburn barked as he grabbed a marker pen from the desk and handed it to the red butted VP.  "SIGN HERE – full size." presenting the paddle.  After he had signed the punishing paddle came the order:  "Get up and get dressed.  Do NOT ever smoke again in MY school, boy." the janitor commanded walking out with the fire extinguisher and paddle.  Plus a few pix taken surreptitious by the light of a glowing VP's ass.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L. September 27, 2014

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Last updated:  September 15, 2023