been injured. If it looks too severe, I'll come up with a later date for your punishment.”
I just stared at her.
“Really?” I asked, again surprised. “Show you my butt? Right here?”
She gave me another smile, this one, I could tell, intended to appear sympathetic, although I knew better.
“How else can I decide?” she asked. “Pull down your gym shorts and panties in back, just enough so I can see.”
“Well, okay…”
The paddling rules at the school made it mandatory that another teacher or responsible adult be present, apparently as a witness of sorts. So before Miss Hellview even took a look at my 'injury' under my shorts, she picked up her phone and asked Ms. Dykstra to join us.
“How is Carol doing?” she asked when the gym teacher walked in.
Ms. Dykstra closed the door behind her, then gave me a withering glance. “No bones were broken, but because it's a head injury, the doctor in town called her parents. They're taking her back home for a week to make certain she's okay.”
Miss Hellview nodded somberly at the news, then turned back to me.
I'd been standing silently, waiting for the results on Carol's condition, nervous enough about a potential paddling from the stern blonde headmistress. Now that the tough-looking gym teacher was joining us, I was more than nervous: verging on possible hysteria might be a better description.
“I'm glad nothing was broken,” I offered. “Really.”
But both woman entirely ignored me.
“Emily has lost her school uniform,” Miss Hellview informed the teacher. “And will receive a paddling. However, she claims to have an injured bottom, something about a fall in a boating accident, so we need to discover the extent of her injuries before I make a decision.”
Ms. Dykstra eyes briefly lit up at the news, but she quickly contained herself and nodded with what I then took to be feigned indifference. Her duty, in other words, to assist in administering my punishment.
Huh.
She obviously couldn't wait to get in on my paddling. Or else, she just wanted a good look at my bare little butt. Which, considering everything else going on at the school, wouldn't be all that much of a surprise.
“Very well,” Ms. Dykstra said, “Let's take a look.”
And they had me stand a few steps back from the large desk, facing it and leaning forward with my hands on the edge of it in the classic 'assume the pose' stance. As if I was about to be frisked by the police or something. I'd seen enough cop shows on TV to know that much, at least.
Standing like that, in only my skimpy gym shorts, little tee-shirt and white tennis shoes, I felt extremely vulnerable. Which, I guess, was exactly how they both wanted me to feel.
“And, in case Emily's injuries aren't all that serious,” Miss Hellview said, “we'll administer her punishment immediately.”
And she showed me the paddle she was suddenly holding, either the same one or an exact duplicate of the flat springy paddle with holes in it that her niece and her two friends had used on me the night before.
“That paddle?!” I blurted out.
Which got me a surprised look in return.
“You seem familiar with it,” Miss Hellview said. “Have you seen it somewhere before?”
I just shrugged, knowing better than to get into that particular conversation: my word against Velda's.
“No, ma'am,” I shook my head, and then lied. “I was just surprised. My, uh, father used a paddle like that on me, when I was bad.”
Suddenly, I could tell I'd somehow attracted the interest of both women. And not an interest that was purely professional. More like an unwholesome prurient interest, if that could be believed.
“Is that so?” the lanky Ms. Dykstra asked, and coughed. The way someone might who was trying to cover a sudden quaver to her voice. “Well, Emily…just how often were you bad?”
I shrugged again, then said, “A few times a week, I guess.”
“So your father paddled you that often?” Miss Hellview was clearly curious, too. Intensely so, it seemed. “Because you were bad?”
This was getting weird, but at that point, I'd do anything to stall. And I could tell the mood in the room had changed, had somehow become vaguely similar to the oddly sexually-charged atmosphere of the night before.
The entire school, I then fully realized, from the youngest student right up to the blonde headmistress herself, was apparently highly sensitive to the issue of girls who were bad — in fact, that was the point of the school itself, after all, a private school for bad girls. Girls who needed punishment. Bad little girls, all of them.
Including me. Seriously, so.
In fact, thinking of the reason I'd actually been sent there, I guessed I was probably the baddest of the bad. I mean, not only had I been fucking my own dad, I'd wanted it so much I'd 'put out' for him whenever there was any chance at all of getting his big stiff dick into me.
“I was a very bad little girl,” I admitted, which was true but not in the actual way they believed. “So I got paddled. A lot. On my bare butt, usually.”
I decided to throw that in on the spur of the moment. Improvising, I think it's called.
“Really…?” my gym teacher asked. “Not through your pants?”
I just shrugged with a little shake of my head.
“And then…” I started, but hesitated, playing it out for all it was worth. Finally, I haltingly admitted, “I'd lock myself in my room after each time and…masturbate, even though I knew it was a sin. It just felt too good to stop.”
And even though they were standing behind me, I could tell Miss Hellview and Ms. Dykstra were staring at me, silently, imagining me doing exactly that: a skinny little 11-year-old with a sore butt feverishly using her fingers in her sweet little pussy to further pleasure herself after each paddling by her father.
Definitely a very sick bad little girl.
“Is that why you were sent here?” Miss Hellview finally asked, clearing her throat as she did so. “You were caught masturbating…?”
I stiffened as if embarrassed by the admission, then finally nodded.
“My father paddled me so hard, I actually had…an orgasm. And after, I was so confused, I forgot to lock my bedroom door. And then my parents both walked in and caught me, because I was masturbating so hard I didn't hear them. They're both very religious.”
Wow. I was getting good at this.
After a very long silence, Miss Hellview finally said, “Very well. Let's take a look at your injuries, so I can make my decision. I'll just pull down your gym shorts and panties in back…”
It was impossible to miss that her voice had grown slightly hoarse.
“Okay.”
If either one of them breathed while her hands gripped the sides of my gym shorts and tugged them slightly down, I couldn't hear it. I stood stock still, knowing the effect I was having on both women, my firm little ass one of my best features.
To anyone who cared to look at it, male or female.
And look at it they did, Miss Hellview pulling down my panties next, so that my shorts and my underpants were half-way down my bare butt, only the gently rounded top half of it exposed to their eyes.
“You can pull them down farther,” I offered. “All the way, even. It hurts more near the bottom.”
I'd subtly arched my narrow lower back so that my little butt was tilted upward slightly, firming up my rounded cheeks into two perfect handfuls almost impossible to resist. Miss Hellview cleared her throat again, then tugged my shorts down the rest of the way, my panties following a moment later.
They dropped down my slender legs, landing around my tennis shoes. I stepped out of them, spreading my feet wider apart to give them both a better look at my bare ass, but more importantly at the real me as well: my perfect little pink cunt.
“That was no boating accident,” Ms. Dykstra informed the headmistress. “But I don't believe we should be
