“Good girl.” I put my hands on her shoulders and set her up straight. “Now, Jennifer, we’ll discuss your first assignment before you leave the office this afternoon. But there’s a third reason you were to come to the office after school. Can you remember?”
“Yes, sir.” Then she hung her head. “I was showing off to the boys. My bottom, and my… pussy, sir. I know that was stupid of me. And you’re going to punish me for it.”
“That’s right, girl. I don’t want you to do that ever again.”
“Of course, Jennifer. That’s what all girls like you say, before they’ve been punished.”
“Please, sir! I’ll never do that again!”
“We’ll only know that’s true after you’ve had your bottom warmed. That’s when you say it and really mean it.”
Her eyes were shining, her eyebrows pleading. “I mean it now, sir! Honest I do!”
“Well, we’ll see. You will make that promise to me again, little Jennifer. But that will be when your bottom is bright red and hot, and you have tears running down your cheeks.”
“When I tell you I’ve finished dealing with you, you’ll make that promise again. And you’ll mean it with every cell in your body. You’ll be surprised how much you mean it, compared to now.”
“I do mean it now, sir. Honest I do.”
I smiled at her. “The difference is that once I’ve finished with you this afternoon, if it ever crossed your mind to do that again, even for a second, you’ll feel a twinge in your bottom.”
Jennifer put her hands back, to rub her bottom. She’d been spanked only yesterday for skipping classes, and it had already had a big effect on her behaviour. No doubt she could feel it, not still hurting, exactly, but still sensitive.
I smiled at her. “You’ll remember – your body will remember – what it cost you last time. And that will keep you behaving like a good girl.”
Jennifer paused, to consider that. Then she nodded. It made sense to her. “Yes, sir.”
“Sir? Do I have to?”
“You just earned six extra. Do you want to question my instructions again, or will you start doing as you’re told?”
“Sorry, sir.” The jacket came off quickly and easily. She put it on the clothes rack on my wall.
The skirt was a more measured matter, one that took fumbling at catches and buttons. I watched her, amused. Even though the little skirt she’d worn yesterday had been no protection, either for her bottom or her modesty, taking the skirt off was a stronger gesture. It meant consciously abandoning one line of her defences. I let her come to terms with that at her own speed.
Eventually she unwrapped it, and stood for a moment, facing me. She had the skirt in her hand. She was, I suppose, shy about turning her back on me to hang it up on the rack. So we looked at each other for a moment.