I go to a private school. Spanking is allowed if our parents signed a note for it. Miss Michaels told me she thinks the boy behind me is cheating and copying from me during tests. She said she wanted me to put down all wrong answers to catch the boy. Then I could take the test later. I said I didn’t feel good at doing that and I didn’t want to do it.

She told me to come to her classroom after school. I went there and Miss Michaels locked the door and she sat in her chair. Miss Michaels told me to take my pants down and hand her the paddle. I was shaking and she reminded me that my mom signed the note approving of spanking me. I took my pants down and told her I didn’t do anything. She sternly said, “Both pair, underwear too.” I was so nervous I fumbled with my underwear. Miss Michaels said, “NOW”!

I took my underwear down and I was embarrassed. Miss Michaels looked right at my thing. She said, “The paddle”! With my pants down around my ankles I shuffled over to the board and got the paddle. I shuffled back to her with my thing bouncing around. I had gotten hard. I couldn’t stop it from standing up. I was red in the face. I stood there petrified in front of Miss Michaels with my thing sticking right out at her. Miss Michaels looked at my stiff thing, tilting her head from side to side, looking over my erection.

Miss Michaels made me step out my pants and underwear and she grabbed my thing. She pulled me by my thing as she said, “Over my knee”.

Miss Michaels took the hard wooden paddle to my bare bottom and it stung really bad. I wiggled but she had my balls firmly held in her hand. I couldn’t move. I begged, “Please, please I’ll be good.” The strokes of the paddle continued. My bare bottom was throbbing and I broke into tears. I cried, “Mommy please, mommy please I’ll be a good boy”.

Miss Michaels paused and demanded to know how often my mother spanks me. I said, “When I’m bad”. Miss Michaels demanded, “HOW OFTEN”? I felt another crisp pain in my bare bottom from the swift stroke of the paddle. Again Miss Michaels demanded, “HOW OFTEN”? I quickly blurted out, “Two or three times a week.”

“What will your mother do when she finds out I spanked you here at school,” Miss Michaels inquired. I blubbered that she would punish me. I begged, “Please do you have to tell her, please, please?”

Miss Michaels demanded, “How will she punish you for being a bad boy at school?” Gasping for air I told Miss Michaels that I will be spanked every day for a week and given soapy enemas”.

Miss Michaels said, “You will address me as Ma’am. Now give me your answer again, properly addressing me.” Frantically I answered, Yes Ma’am, yes ma’am mother will spank me every day before I come to school and give me soapy enemas when I get home, ma’am.”

Miss Michaels said, “Your mother who knows how a little boy should be kept disciplined. Don’t you think so?” I quickly blurted out, “Yes ma’am, yes ma’am.”

Miss Michaels said, “Speak in complete sentences. Yes ma’am WHAT?” Huffing for air with my bare bottom on fire and my balls squeezed in her grip, I hurriedly said, “Yes ma’am, I have an excellent mother who keeps me disciplined”.

Miss Michaels tugged on my balls as she demanded to know, “Why is this sticking up? Do you play with this?” I mumbled, “A little”. Then the sting of the paddle burned across my bare bottom as Miss Michaels dispensed two rapid strokes. She firmly said, “Don’t you dare lie to me and I said complete sentences.” In pain I pleaded, “Oh yes ma’am, yes ma’am I play with, I play with it. It gets hard. Please, please, I’ll be good.”

Miss Michaels said, “And not just a little but rather you play with it a lot don’t you?”
I quickly said, Yes ma’am I play with it a lot, too much, it gets hard, I play with it a lot.”

“What does your mother punish you for at home,” asked Miss Michaels? I replied, “Mother punishes me for playing with it, I’m not allowed to play with it, for bad grades, backtalk, not doing my chores, for a bad attitude, to teach me my place and whatever mother says, ma’am. Please ma’am I’ll be good. Please, please.”

Miss Michaels rubbed the tip of the paddle over my sore throbbing bottom. I could feel the wood tracing circles on my bare bottom. I was afraid that she was going to renew my punishment so I clenched up. Miss Michaels said, “Don’t clench. Relax. Let go now!” I said “Yes ma’am, yes ma’am, please.” I did my best to relax my red hot bottom.

Miss Michaels asked, “Are you going to be my good little boy”? I eagerly said , Oh yes, yes ma’am I’ll be good your good little boy, I’ll obey, I’ll obey, please. Please let me be your good boy, please Ma’am.

Miss Michaels said, “When I tell you to do something, you ARE going to do it or you’ll be put over my knee again. Is that clear”? I quickly said, “Oh yes ma’am that’s clear. I’ll do it. I’ll obey. I’ll be good.”

Miss Michaels announced, “You WILL put all the wrong answers on the test and you will take the test again later. You will not tell anyone. Is that clear?” I blabber out, “Yes ma’am, I’ll do it. I’ll put the wrong answers and not tell anyone.”

You will never again defy me or disobey me. You WILL do what I tell you to when I tell you to do it. No hesitation, no backtalk, no disobedience. Is THAT clear? I rapidly said, “Yes ma’am, it’s clear. I’ll obey you, no backtalk, no disobedience, no hesitation. I’ll obey you.”

Miss Michaels said, “I think five more swats are in order”. I started begging, “Please ma’am, please I’ll be good.” Miss Michaels said, “Are you hesitating and back-talking already?” I realized my mistake, and begged, Please ma’am give me five more swats.”

Miss Michaels said, “I think that was backtalk so it’s now ten swats”. I said, Yes ma’am please give me ten swats”. With that Miss Michaels raised the hard wooden paddle and showed no mercy, no mercy at all. She was very serious about having absolute obedience. The swats burned into my bare bottom, stinging with pain that went deep. I burst into tears.

“Now let’s do another five and you count out each one and say Thank You after each one,” said Miss Michaels. Through my tears I said, “Yes ma’am please give me another five. I want to thank you.”

The first swat stung across my bare bottom. I said, One, thank you ma’am. The second stroke quickly followed. The stinging pain doubled and I began to sob as I said “Two, Thank You ma’am.” Crack went the third swat and I starting crying again while saying, “three Thank You ma’am.” The fourth swat followed immediately and it burned so mush I couldn’t stand it. Half crying and half screeching, I said “four Thank You ma’am. Instantly the fifth swat dug in and I cried out, “five Thank You ma’am , thank you, thank you.”

Miss Michaels asked, “Do you like to suffer for me?” Gagging in pain, I said Yes, yes ma’am I want to suffer for you.” Miss Michaels said, Good, how many more swats would you like. I said, “Whatever you say ma’am. I do what you say ma’am, no backtalk, no hesitation.”

“Oh that’s good, you remembered, said Miss Michaels. I must be getting through. ”
“I want you to pick a number, she added. You don’t need to count them. I’ll do that. You just say thank you. ”

“Yes ma’am, can I please have five more ma’am, please ma’am.”
That’s a good boy, said Miss Michaels. The paddle cracked down on my bare bottom and I groaned “Thank You ma’am, oh Thank You, but I was interpreted by the bite of the paddle again, as I continued on, “Thank you ma’am, thank you ma’am.” Then another swat stabbed into my bare bottom. I lost count of the swats as I continued to babble on, Thank You ma’am, Thank You. Thank you for my punishment. Thank you Miss Michaels.”

Then I felt the paddle gently tracing over my hot bottom. From all the pain, I thought it must be raw. “Now let’s stand you up,” said Miss Michaels. She helped me up and she reached over for her phone on her desk. I hadn’t noticed it was in a stand and recording the whole thing. She brought the camera down and videoed my swollen erection which was purplish and shiny.

The head was blue and I so much wanted to touch my shaft and rub it, but I didn’t dare. It bobbed when she release it and pointed toward the ceiling. “Now turn around,” ordered Miss Michaels. “Now bend over” she ordered as she videoed my bare bottom and the punishment it received. I felt the end of the paddle drift over my opening and then back down over it again. Then the paddle pressed on my opening, prodding it and then on the other side

I was allowed to stand up and told to look back over my shoulder. Then I was told to turn around to face her, my erection still throbbing and bobbing. Miss Michaels set her camera back in the stand. Miss Michaels asked, Does it get hard like this when your mother punishes you?

I said yes ma’am. It sticks out hard when I get the paddle or belt at home.
And when you get the enemas, asked Miss Michaels? For a moment I was shocked she knew about the enema bag, as I had forgotten I told her. I blurted it out in my panic and pain. I said “yes’ ma’am it sticks up in the air when I get hot soapy enemas.”

Miss Michaels inquired, “When does it start to get hard? Is it hard before you take your pants down? I said, “Yes ma’am it gets hard right away before I have my pants off.

So it gets hard as soon as you know that you are going to be punished? Yes ma’am it get hard as soon as I know mother is going to punish me.

Please ma’am do you have to tell mother about this. Please ma’am?
Miss Michaels said it was my choice to have a note sent home or to have Miss Michaels punish me again whenever she thought I needed it.

Miss Michaels asked me if there was anything I’d like to say. I said “yes ma’am I apologize for my bad behavior. Thank you ma’am for punishing me. Thank you very much ma’am. I’ll be a good boy and obey you. Than you for punishing me ma’am.

Then she showed me the video of my bare bottom. It didn’t look bad at all. There were some red marks and welt outlines of the paddle. It was not cut open and there was no bleeding. The pain had made me imagine that.

Rather than get paddled at home and get enemas I chose to have Miss Michaels punish when she thought I needed it. I was told sit down at my desk and write an apology letter to Miss Michaels for being bad, disputing the class, and disobeying. I did as I was told and wrote that I was sorry for being a bad boy and I deserved to be punished. It felt odd because I had to sit at my desk without my pants or underwear. My bottom was too sore to sit on, but it felt better when I sat on the cold desk seat. My erection went down and it turned pink again instead of purple. It just hung there, half hard and wobbling as Miss Michaels examined it. She said it was a bit big for a boy my age.

Then I was allowed to put my underwear and pants back on. Miss Michaels kept my apology letter. She sent me home and told me that it was up to me if I wanted to tell my mother that I was a bad boy in school.