The saga of the Acme Paddle Company is something that I wrote on one of those "what if" whims of mine.
This, then is an excerpt from part 3, chronicling the adventures of Colin Masters at the Hawthorne School for Young Ladies.
THE ACME PADDLE COMPANY AT SCHOOL
As it turned out, the next day sales call to the Hawthorn School for Young Ladies had to be postponed. Other business had called Colin Masters back to the city after his visit to Edith Fontaine’s country house. Emma Pearson was indeed winding down her employment with Aunt Edith and would join him at Acme as soon as a suitable replacement could be found. Where the relationship would go, Colin didn’t know, but it’s start had been intense indeed. Time would tell. As for the Fontaine sisters, Tanya and Brittney, they were now consigned to the tender mercies of Greta, Aunt Edith’s stout Swedish housekeeper, and now the proud owner of several Acme paddles.
Colin had to chuckle to himself as he the negotiated the curves of the state road that meandered through the valleys in the foothills of the coast range. He could just see Greta enthusiastically enforcing Aunt Edith’s edicts. The robust Swede would have no trouble at all putting either Fontaine sister over her knee for an application of the paddle to a deserving posterior. He could visualize the kicking and the squealing as the big blonde housekeeper dished out a sound spanking to the culprit while held securely across her lap, bottoms up and probably bare at that—with an Acme paddle made specially for that purpose. Well, maybe they’d mind Aunt Edith after a few appointments with Greta and the paddle.
The Hawthorne school wasn’t far from the Fontaine house, at least as the crow flies, and Colin wondered if this was where Tanya and Brittney would be enrolled. Located in Maryville, a town of around 1500 in population, it was mid way between the valley and the coast. Maryville turned out to be one of those sleepy country towns, pleased with itself that it offered a slower pace of life. Colin passed a number of wineries. That seemed to be the local industry. It was a good place to put a girls school if you wanted to keep the girls away from the temptations of the big city. Not a lot to do on Saturday night though, Colin guessed. The school was a few miles out of town off of a long driveway. Surprisingly, it consisted of a group of fairly modern buildings. There was an administration building, several halls that probably held lecture rooms, a dormitory, and an athletic gymnasium with soccer and hockey fields.
The head mistress was one Clare Vickery, an attractive woman in her early forties. Colin had been expecting a dour harridan with gray hair held in a bun and black horn rim glasses on a chain, so the sight of Ms. Vickery was a welcome surprise. Light chestnut hair framed a pleasant face and large brown eyes. Colin could tell that the lady had a nice figure. She wore a suit that featured a tight skirt that ended just above the knee, displaying curvy hips and nicely toned legs. With her were three other ladies, also very attractive. In fact, one was a knockout.
“Thank you so much for coming,” said the headmistress, once he had been ushered into her office. “Mrs. Fontaine, who sits on our board of directors, recommended you most highly.”
Colin had to chuckle to himself about that. He had merely demonstrated his wares for Mrs. Fontaine. But to do so he had taken charge of her wayward nieces by putting each one over his knee and administering a paddling they would not soon forget. Maybe the corporal discipline of misbehaving young ladies was a new skill destined to be in high demand.
“I appreciate that, Ms Vickery. What can I do for The Hawthorn School?”
“We have a problem, Mr. Masters, and I’ve called in several of my staff who are to be involved in how we go forward on this. First, this is Sandy Grimes, our athletic director and coach for the girls’ sports teams.” Clare Vickery extended her hand toward the lean blonde with the closely cropped hair. Colin extended his own hand and shook hers. She had a strong grip.
“Another team member is our school nurse, Tammy Lynn Hunter…”
This one was the knockout. At five-six with lush red hair and a figure that could have walked right out of a Playboy centerfold, she cut quite a figure. If she were the nurse in a boy’s school, half the student body would be permanent residents of the infirmary.
“Ah---m pleased to meet you, Mr. Masters,” she said. There was a definite Southern twang there, and Colin raised his eyebrows upon hearing that sexy languid drawl.
Claire Vickery chuckled. “Tammy Lynn is our southern transplant. She’s from Mississippi. And our third team member is Betty Crane. She is the house mistress in our dormitory.”
Colin shook hands with a dark haired woman in her early forties with a pageboy hairdo. An imposing and voluptuous woman, she looked like a housemother type, probably very motherly with the girls, but no nonsense when it came to girlish shenanigans.
“I should explain a bit more about who we are, and then maybe you will understand better. Hawthorne is a new breed of junior college. Actually we are one of many such schools scattered across the country. This is good for you because if we recommend purchase of your company’s wares, our sister schools will follow our lead.”
Colin nodded appreciatively. This could be a major account.
“Hawthorne Academy is a junior college for young ladies who have had some difficulty at other institutions. Our clientele are reasonably wealthy, and many of the young ladies who attend here have been sent by their parents to ‘clean up their act,’ so to speak. This is more the case with our students who board with us. So you see we have potential discipline problems, from the get-go, as they say. At any rate, we have discovered that maintaining discipline can be a challenge. And our ladies, to their credit, agree. They actually admit that behavioral lapses should have consequences. But of course, they hate the consequences. We have detentions and writing lines and extra chores and such. All of that works after a fashion, but there are still problems. We have announced that our disciplinary regime may change and that instituting a return to corporal punishment is under consideration. The reason, frankly, is that we need an ultimate deterrent.”
Colin nodded in agreement.
“Of course the students are aghast at the mention of corporal punishment. They think it too childish. So it appears they want it both ways. They acknowledge the need for discipline but don’t want it enforced. Our staff see it differently. So a vote was taken to do a study. The board approved and we called you.”
“Well. Ok,” said Colin. “How do you want to proceed?”
“Each of our team members comes at this from a different perspective. So, we will have each of them interview you and get your recommendations. Our understanding is that you have implements which can be very effective without injuring the girls. What they most often need is a short sharp shock, just enough to smarten them up a bit if they misbehave. Nothing serious, but something definitely to be avoided.”
Colin lifted his sample case. “In here I think you’ll find just what you need.”
“Splendid,” said Ms. Vickery. “I’ll give you first to Sandy. Tammy Lynn will also be along for each interview for health and safety reasons.”
Tammy Lynne flashed Colin a big eyelash-fluttering smile.
Colin followed Sandy Grimes as she and Tammy Lynne led him to the gym. Sandy was slim and athletic with really great legs. It was warm and she wore track shorts and a pullover. Then there was Tammy Lynne, who, in a tight short skirt, was spectacular from the rear.
“Do you run, Miss Grimes?” asked Colin, as they made their way to her office.
“At least two miles every day,” she said. “You?”
“That’s good too. I think it important that our students exercise. We have teams too, and we play neighboring schools who have clubs or intramural teams. But our girls really want to win. And,” she said, giving Colin a pointed look, “they are prepared to do what it takes.”
Colin wasn’t sure how to take that, but by that time they’d reached the gym. Sandy’s office was in the basement. Colin noticed that two girls, both wearing what looked like volleyball uniforms were waiting outside her office. These featured t-shirt style tops and tight short-shorts made of some stretch material as bottoms. The tight shorts left little to the imagination, the stretch fabric molding itself to the girls’ bottoms.
“We’ll be with you in a minute girls,” she said. The three went inside and she shut the door. “That’s Jenna and Brandy, two of our sports team girls. They sort of…volunteered.”
“Volunteered?” Colin was surprised, even though he figured what they were here for.
“Yes. News of your visit has been the buzz around here for weeks,” said Tammy Lynne.
“Weeks?” Yes, he had cancelled his original appointment. It had been about two weeks.
“We don’t get many visitors, especially of the attractive male variety,” said Tammy Lynne, a coy smile flitting across her face.
Colin exhaled and ran his hand through his hair. “And they know why I’m here, and what I do?”
“Yes,” said Sandy brightly. “They have been admonished both by me and their teammates for slacking off at practice and other violations. Like I say, the girls want to win and these two have been ‘volunteered’ to try a new regime. Let’s call them in.”
Before Colin could say anything she opened the door.
“Jenna, Brandy, you can come in now.”
Brandy was a medium height slender brunette with her hair in a long ponytail; Jenna, a shorter but more voluptuous blond haired girl with a light complexion. Both looked to be about nineteen or twenty. Jenna looked almost stocky with short muscular legs, a pinched waist that flared into wide hips and a prominent rear end. Definitely a girl with lots of curves. By contrast Brandy favored the look of a slim tomboy, but she too had well formed athletic legs and a pert derriere. Colin assumed that both girls played on the coach’s athletic teams, volleyball or soccer players perhaps.
“Girls, this is Mr Masters of the Acme Paddle Company. Like we discussed, we are going to consider purchasing his products. So today, you have agreed to try a new system by assisting us. Right, girls?”
Both girls eyed Colin and his sample case nervously.
“Uh, yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Well, let’s get started then.”
Colin opened his sample case and went into his presentation, pulling out sample paddles, explaining the relative merits and drawbacks of each. As he talked, the eyes of Jenna and Brandy grew larger and larger and hands unconsciously drifted to the rear of their shorts as if to intercept a swat from the implements being described.
While the unfortunate students were visibly apprehensive, the blonde coach was enjoying every minute of the girls’ discomfort. Then there was Tammy Lynne. Colin felt her eyes on him, like a lioness sizing up a gazelle. He’d have to watch himself with this one, but she was so hot he didn’t know if he wanted to.
When he had finished Sandy said, “I like two of them. The varnished one with the holes and the short one that is made of---what was it?---composite?”
“Yes. Composite. It means that it is considerably lighter.”
“That means you have to swing harder?” asked Sandy, a thin smile on her face as she eyed the two nervous miscreants.
“That is one possibility. But also it means there could be less protection in the way of clothing.”
“So you could use this one on the bare butt even, without much risk of harm?”
Colin looked at Jenna and Brandy apologetically. “Yes. Yes, you could.”
Both girls grimaced.
Colin hastened to add, “As long as you moderated your force a bit.” That seemed to do little to assuage the girls’ nervousness.
“Well, then, Mr. Masters, you can show us. Let’s start with the varnished one. What would you recommend in terms of clothing and positioning for this to be effective?”
“I always believe that the less force that is used, the better. But this means thinner clothing covering the, er, target area. So gym shorts or tights would be fine. As for position, over the desk, hands on knees or bending over with hands on the wall are all good.”
“All right then, you two,” said Sandy, obviously keen to chastise her wayward charges for whatever it was that they had done wrong, “step up to the desk. Brandy, you first.” She turned to Colin. “How should she stand?”
“She should bend over the desk, elbows flat and perhaps grip the opposite edge.”
Sandy narrowed her eyes at the young woman and pointed. “You heard him Brandy. Over you go.”
Brandy bent over the desk as instructed and in the process thrust out a very attractive seat that caused her athletic shorts to mold the fabric to her bottom globes. Pink flesh peeked out from the bottom edges of the brief shorts.
“So with this paddle,” said Sandy picking up the varnished one, “ how many should she get?”
“With that model, I’d say six is a reasonable number.”
“All right. Brandy, you will get six strokes.” She handed the paddle to Colin. “You give her three to show me how hard, then I’ll take over.”
Colin took the paddle. He came around to Brandy’s side. She was quaking in her shoes, literally. “Try to relax, Brandy. This will sting but it won’t kill you. It is important that you do not move. I don’t wish to hit any part of the body but your buttocks. Do you understand?”
“Y—yes, sir,” stammered Brandy.
“Good girl,” said Colin, tapping the paddle on Brandy’s seat. “Here we go.”
He drew the paddle back and there was a whoosh and an loud crack! as the paddle impacted the girl’s bottom.
“Yeowww!” Brandy’s arms flew up and she started to stand.
“Back down,” admonished Colin.
Sandy raised her eyebrows. It had made an impression. The other two whacks were delivered firmly causing Brandy to flinch and yelp, but she stayed in position. Colin handed the paddle to Sandy and she delivered her three with a smooth athletic motion, hitting the target square each time. At the last one Brandy shot straight up, rubbing her bottom furiously while she danced on her toes.
Brandy was dismissed to stand in the corner while they discussed the other model. It was an oval shaped paddle twelve inches long, four inches wide and only a quarter of an inch thick.
“This one is lighter. It’s a wood composite with carbon fibers,” said Colin. He handed it to Sandy.
“It feels like a toy,” she said. “They won’t feel this through clothes.”
“Ah…yes,” said Colin. “You probably want the minimum in covering for this one. Also, because it is shorter, it can be used in the nursery position if you want that.”
“Nursery position?” said Sandy.
“Yes. With the punishee across your knee. It’s more intimate, there is more tactile contact. In some cases that is preferable.” Colin stole a glance a Tammy Lynne and noticed that she licked her lips and appeared flushed. “It’s more suited to delivering a spanking in the traditional sense. About 20 to 30 smacks is about right.” Colin continued, “The paddle is light but it still packs a sting. All it takes is a flip of the wrist.”
Sandy smiled at Jenna, the shorter of the two girls. Jenna’s face wore an expression of dismay. She had listened to every word that Colin had said and had guessed what was coming.
“No,….no,” said Jenna waving her hands and backing up.
Sandy folded her arms across her chest and spoke sternly. “Now, Jenna. We discussed this and you agreed, along with Brandy to pay off your demerits this way. Now Brandy has already been paddled, so now it’s your turn. Are you going to tell me you’re chicken?”
Jenna slumped, shamefaced. “This is so embarrassing,” she wailed.
In the meantime Colin had seated himself in an armless chair that he pulled out to the front of the desk.
“You get right over there, young lady,” said Sandy, “and take your medicine. Did you think you’d get off easy for volunteering for this experiment?”
Colin took that as his cue. “If you will, miss, come over here and stand to my right.”
Jenna reluctantly stood to Colin’s right. Colin looked at Sandy. She nodded. He looked Jenna in the eye. “Give me your hand, Jenna.” She offered her hand. Colin took her by the wrist and guided her face down across his lap. When he had adjusted her position so that her bottom was well centered, he took up the paddle.
“Just a minute,” said Sandy. “Take her shorts down.”
“What?” exclaimed Jenna with alarm.
“This is a light paddle, right Mr. Masters?”
Colin nodded affirmatively.
“Then I want to see its effect on a nearly bare bottom. You can keep your panties, Jenna.”
Colin said, “Lift up, Jenna.”
With a moan and blushing wildly the young woman lifted her hips. Colin dragged the athletic shorts down to her knees, exposing a very attractive bottom clad in briefly cut white nylon panties. A cheeky expanse of flesh peeked out from the lower edges on each side. Jenna writhed nervously over Colin’s lap. She looked over her shoulder apprehensively as Colin took up the paddle. He tapped it on her bottom several times. The flesh wobbled. Jenna had wide hips and a soft well fleshed pair of orbs that jutted up in stark relief from the tops of her thighs.
“You said twenty to thirty swats with this for a good lesson, is that right?” asked Sandy.
“Yes,” said Colin.
“Ok. Give her twenty-five.”
It was clear that Jenna had never experienced a real tanning before. Colin plied the paddle briskly with a snapping motion of his wrist. Jenna began kicking her legs and squirming from the start, her head raised up and her eyes wild with surprise at the amount of sting generated by the light paddle. It was no toy! The steady crack!...crack!...crack! echoed noisily off the bare concrete walls of Sandy’s office.
“Ah…ah…ow…oh!” exclaimed the wriggling girl as the paddle set her bottom cheeks on fire. “This is awful! Ow!” She fluttered her feet as if that would help alleviate the stinging heat of the sharp paddle spanks.
Colin kept a silent count, delivering a sharp spank with the paddle about once every two seconds. Her lush bottom quivered with each swat and soon the lovely seat took on a red hue. Her squirms grew more desperate.
“Keep still, Jenna. You know you deserve this,” said Sandy, her eyes bright and her chest heaving. Out of the corner of his eye Colin saw her lick her lips. Whether she was eyeing him or the girls Colin didn’t know, but he was betting it was the girls.
“Y---yes, ma’am,” said Jenna. “But, oh, it stings so, ma’am.” Jenna writhed involuntarily as the paddle cracked against the smarting globes of her behind, fighting to stay still as commanded without much success. Colin observed that the back of her neck was flushed. She must be blushing furiously with embarrassment.
Colin spanked from side to side, making the flesh quiver with each wrist snapping pop of the paddle on the wobbly bottom cheeks. At twenty-five he stopped. Colin looked up. Sandy nodded. “Let her up,” she said. Jenna hopped to her feet and began to rub her inflamed bottom, dancing from foot to foot while Sandy eyed the spectacle with apparent satisfaction.
“Well. Very good, Mr. Masters. That seems to have delivered a good lesson.” To Jenna and Brandy she said, “Now I’ll bet there won’t be any more acting up in the locker room.”
Looking at the girls she said, “I’m impressed. I think these paddles will make a welcome addition to the athletic department. Aren’t you impressed girls?”
Both Jenna and Brandy grimaced but said “Yes, ma’am,” all the time rubbing their hot bottoms.
Colin and Tammy Lynne took their leave after Sandy had once again expressed her approval of both Colin’s wares and his proficiency at using them, and left for the next appointment. As they made their way out of the basement Colin could hear Sandy scolding the girls for whatever it was they had done. He could imagine their dismay when he heard Sandy say something about a repeat session.
“I’d say those gals will think a bit before misbehavin’ again,” said Tammy Lynne. “You do know how to use those paddles, don’t you Mr. Masters.”
“You can call me Colin, Miss Hunter,” said Colin as they made their way toward the dormitory and an appointment with Betty, the house matron. “And yes, it’s sort of an art. The idea is to teach a sharp lesson without actually causing injury.”
“Well I’ve never had a spankin’. You’d think that growing up in Mississippi, I’d get taken to the woodshed, as they say. But my daddy was a surgeon in Vicksburg and he never laid a hand on me. What do you think about that?”
Colin smiled. “I don’t know what to think. Were you a good girl growing up?”
Tammy Lynne smirked. “I was daddy’s spoiled little princess. What do you think?”
She was flirting with him, Colin decided.
“I think you probably got away with a lot,” said Colin. “With daddy twisted around your little finger
Tammy Lynne laughed softly. “You’d be right about that, Mr. Colin Masters. I got away with things where other girls would be eatin’ supper off the mantle piece, standing up.”
“Better hope that the past doesn’t catch up with you then,” said Colin, shooting a meaningful look her way.
“Like the time I played a joke on daddy by hiding the distributor cap on his car. My boyfriend showed me how. Daddy was going to play golf but I wanted him to take me to the mall so I could go shopping. The car wouldn’t start and he missed his tee time. He was so mad when I admitted what I’d done. I thought I was gonna get it then for sure, but he just chewed me out and grounded me. I think I’d have just as soon had that spankin’ than not be able to meet my friends at the mall.” She raised her eyebrows in a flirtatious gesture.
“Pulling a distributor cap? Hmmm, yeah, if I had been daddy that might have merited a trip across the knee,” said Colin, firing right back.
The exchange ended because they had reached the dormitory. Tammy Lynne led Colin to Betty Crane’s quarters, an apartment on the lower floor of a four story dormitory.