Before I could adjust my practices, I got caught by the school administration. Well, I don’t mean caught in the act. It had happened because the students at Buchanan, both male and female, were not very discreet. They couldn’t stop talking about me.

The dean of girls, Ms. Jody Kuperman, was the person I had to answer to. Since being a Dean was not a full-time job, she also taught some English classes. I was in one of those during my junior year.

She was about forty, and I’d describe her as a strong-looking woman with a couple of inches of height over me. Her dark hair was cut in what I believe is called a layered shag cut, and she had dark-rimmed glasses. She was always well-dressed, especially when compared to some of the casual outfits other teachers at Buchanan wore.

I’m pretty good at figuring out a person’s sexual orientation, and that was during an era when people were more subtle about it. During my junior year, I became convinced that she was either bisexual or a lesbian. The cues that I noted were almost beneath my level of consciousness.

I didn’t like her very much, but her sexuality had nothing to do with it. What bothered me was the way she acted as a Dean. She seemed obsessed with digging up every bit of dirt about the students that she could find.

Her methods were to gossip with other teachers, who in turn had heard information from their students. She would patrol the hallways and use fake friendliness to get students to banter with her. A high school is a very compressed and closed-off social setting where “intelligence” was easy for someone like Ms. Kuperman to gather. I imagined that she was running her own one-woman Stasi.

I had been foolish, and even though more and more people were hip to my little whoring games, I wasn’t worried about it. After all, I hadn’t yet had any physical contact with those guys paying me. It didn’t seem that important. Oh, was I wrong.

One afternoon, at the beginning of November, I got word from my English teacher that I had to do after-school “detention” in Ms. Kuperman’s office. That seemed unusual, but I instantly knew what it had to be about. I had been a model student except for my one glaring type of misbehavior. I was supposed to report to her office at 3:30 PM, a half hour after the end of regular school hours.

I spent all afternoon wondering what my fate would be. I was a loner. I had female acquaintances at the school, but no close friends I could ask for information or advice.

At the appointed time, I knocked at her door, and I heard her invite me in. She was sitting at her desk, wearing a blue business suit. Her greeting had a phony attitude as if she was glad to see me. In a way, that was indeed true. “Well, hello there, Nora dearie, it’s so thoughtful of you to arrive on time.” As I moved into the room, she said. “Please close the door and lock it.” Why did I have to do that? “Then come over here, but don’t sit down.”

There were a couple of chairs there that I could have used if I had her permission to do so. Instead, she got up and sat on the edge of her desk facing me. I noted her dark nylon stockings and her black shoes.

She didn’t waste any time. “Now, sweetie, this year you’ve been quite the little whore in this school, haven’t you?”

Instead of denying it, I blurted out, “Who told you that?” My guilty conscience must have gotten to me.

“Ms. Meara, you haven’t thought this through, have you? I know everything that goes on here, in and out of this place. Especially with the girls, but even among the boys and some of the teachers.”

I didn’t even ask what she had found out. She got right into telling me.

“I know you’ve been selling views of your panties to the boys. You even let two of them masturbate while viewing you. They ejaculated as you sat in front of them with your legs spread .” My first thought was of that fucking Neil. He hadn’t been satisfied with just once, and had probably betrayed me.

“I even know about that frat house circle jerk you facilitated. The see-through panties idea was quite clever.” I had almost forgotten that Mike’s younger brother was a Buchanan student. Less than two months had passed since my new business had started, almost accidentally.

I was stunned into silence. Ms. Kuperman was well-prepared. “Now, dirty young girls like you need to be disciplined, quite firmly. If we don’t nip this in the bud, you’ll be going into further naughtiness in your quest for money.” Naughtiness seemed like an odd word to use. “Before we know it, you’ll be masturbating for them. You know what that leads to.”

She seemed to be daring me to question her. “And what would that be, Ms. Kuperman?”

“Well, next they’ll want to finger-fuck you. Then it will be you getting them off with handjobs and blowjobs. You must know how sexually keen young guys are at that age.”

I picked up a weird subtext from her. It was as if she were giving me tips on what I should do next. I said something irrelevant. “Ma’am, I’m still a virgin.”

She seemed to be able to read me quite well, too. “I know your type. As long as no cocks enter your pussy, you think you’re still pure.” Well, yes, she had me with that one. She continued, “You need to be punished for your misdeeds and as a reminder not to do them again.”

She stood up and walked towards me. “You’re not too old to go over my knee.”

Later, I found out that one young female teacher was also not too old. “Bad girls such as you deserve a long, sound spanking, and I’m just the one to do it.” She held one arm out. “You can see that I have big hands, perfect for smacking the behinds of badly-behaved students.”

Had she done it to male students, too? I protested, “You can’t do that; corporal punishment of students is not legal in New York State.” It was allowed in some other states. 'School swats' was the phrase that described the procedure. Paddles were commonly used as an implement.

“How would you like it if I called your uncle and told him about your antics here?”

How did she know that I lived with my uncle? Another thing I discovered later was that Ms. Kuperman pried into our home lives, too. Stricter parents or guardians were less likely to complain about their charges being spanked. I knew my Uncle Tony would not approve of what I was doing. I should have tanned her hide myself last year. She’s such a brat, and she needs to be taken down a few pegs.

The dean gave me a few moments to think about it. The weird thing is that she had stumbled upon my most secret kink. I had masturbated while imagining either men or women spanking me. I also had inclinations to be a dominatrix and punish bad boys. At that moment, I knew I’d experience my fetish in reality for the first time, right there in her office.

Ms. Kuperman stood up and went to an armless chair. As she sat down, she said, “All right, honey, I think you know what to do. Take your jacket off first. Then get over my lap, but keep your feet on the floor. You’ll probably be able to use your hands on the other side for balance.”

She pointed to the floor at something I hadn’t noticed before. “I’m going to use that paddle for a final few strokes that you won’t soon forget.” She giggled and sang something. “ ‘Reading and writing and arithmetic. Taught to the song of hickory stick.’ In the old days, they knew how to keep order among the students.”

It wasn’t the biggest paddle I could imagine, but it looked formidable enough.

I stood next to her, and she pulled me down into position. On that day, I was wearing tight gray trousers. Sometimes I liked displaying my ass curves, even if those were on the slim side. When I was down, I was aware of my hips pressing on her lap. That was exactly the kind of intimacy that had made my spanking fantasies so intense.

Ms. Kuperman gave away some of her own secrets. “Nora, you have such a lovely backside. It’s a shame that I have to strike it so vigorously. But it is the highest point on your body right now, so it’s going to make it an excellent target for some real school swats.” She put her left hand around my body and held me just above my hip.

But she didn’t start immediately. Instead, she patted both of my ass cheeks, then ran her hand up and down the back of my thighs. Her fondling felt very pleasurable, and I moaned a bit as it happened. “Oh, oh.”

That was another of my unspoken desires. I sometimes whacked off imagining sexual relations with another woman. I had never seen pictures of it, but I knew that licking each other’s pussies was a key element.

“So, Nora, you like this, don’t you? I had a feeling about you going back to last year.” Yeah, and I had a feeling about you, too. I guess we’re both pretty sharp. “Have you ever been spanked by anyone before?”

“No ma’am, I haven’t.”

“Then this will be a new experience for you. You’re a very bad girl now, but you’ll be a good girl when I’m finished with you. Are you ready to take your punishment?”

“I guess so.”

“Well, ready or not, you’re going to get it right now.”

I looked up and back at her, and I saw her raise her arm up high. Then she struck both of my cheeks in turn, possibly as hard as she could do it. The sound of it echoed in the room, and I grunted with each strike. She was right about those big, strong hands. The shock of her blows went through my pelvis. Without thinking about it, my legs went up, and I waved them in the air.

“Now, sweetie, keep those legs down unless you want some of the back of your thighs. Now that I think of it, you deserve some there too. So hold still while I whack you.”

I asked a dumb question. “What’s the safe word?”

“There is none, Nora. This is a pure punishment.”

Then she began a slow but implacable beating of my behind. The sound of it echoed in the room. Yet my fantasy was becoming true. Each stroke on my ass set off a tingle in my pussy. In a few moments, I was babbling things I almost couldn’t believe. “Please, Ms. Kuperman, hit me harder. I’ve been a very bad, and I deserve everything you give me.”

“So you admit that you do like the punishment.” She stopped to rub me through the cloth of my pants. “I can feel you warming up quite nicely back there. Do you like that feeling of heat in your body?”

I did, but I didn’t want to admit it. “I don’t know; I just need you to keep spanking me.” Did I really say that?

“Oh, I will. I haven’t even gotten to the paddle yet. I must say, you’re quite a depraved young lady.”

I blurted out, “And you like it too. You’re a sadist.”

“And you, honey, are a masochist. I think you always knew it, too.” I guess she was right about that. Every smack on my bottom set off a ding in my clitoris. 

“It will soon be time for the paddle. Six with that should make an impression on you.”

When ready, she said, “Stand up, Nora. Bend over and hold the cushion of the chair. That’s it, you’re in a perfect position to get this, but good.” My gray-clad behind was sticking up even more than it had been in the over-the-knees placement.

I knew she liked looking at my rear view; that was one of the unspoken main benefits of spanking as a technique. Perhaps I felt embarrassed as she ran her implement gently up and down my body. Then the first stroke crashed into me, and I stood up and yelped. “Oh God, that hurts.”

“Come on, Nora, stay in place, or I’ll give you twelve instead of six.” You bitch, how would you like that paddle on your meaty backside? But she seemed satisfied to push down on my back so I was in position for each whack. The sound the wood made against me was intensely loud. I hoped no one outside the room could hear it, but surely no one was going to interfere.

After the sixth one, she said, “That’s it. You took it pretty well compared to some of the brats I’ve had in here.” By then, I had jumped up, and I was too busy grabbing and rubbing my behind to appreciate that bit of praise.

“When you’re finished soothing yourself, I want you to drop your trousers and panties so I can see what I’ve accomplished.”

When I did that, I thought my big mouth was going to get me into further trouble. “What you’ve accomplished is scorching my behind so that you could probably fry an egg on it.”

Instead, she laughed at me. “You do have a way with words, Nora. Last year, you were one of my best English students.” My bared condition gave me a further chance to rub myself.

“Bend over again so I can see you better. My, those thin pants didn’t give you much protection. You’re all red back there.” She took another opportunity to touch me. “And you’re definitely quite warmed up for sure. Please, stay bent over like that.”

I assumed that she wanted to humiliate me further, but that was only part of it. She squatted down and put her hands between my legs. As she spread my genitals, she said, “Just as I thought would happen; you’re dripping wet down there.” She giggled. “In fact, it’s thick and creamy.”

I turned to face her, and I let my anger out. “Get away from me. You have no right to touch me like that!”

She stood up. “Calm down, sweetie. I’m in the same condition as you are.” At that moment, she sounded genuinely friendly, or maybe she was faking it well. “What I propose, if you agree, is that we give each other orgasms, right here.”

I was shocked yet intrigued. “That’s no way for a teacher to behave!”

“Perhaps not, but you’re not the first girl I’ve seduced here. Here, take a look at me.” She sat on the edge of her desk and spread her legs.

“Ms. Kuperman, you’re not wearing any panties!” She did have a black garter and straps to hold up her stockings.

“Well, it sometimes feels very nice that way.” As she spread her own pussy open, she cheerfully said, “See, I’m as aroused as you are.” Her big, gaping opening was glistening with moisture

I suspect that she had prepared her outfit just for my visit. Then, with the stress I was under, I suddenly snapped and started crying. “I can’t deal with all of this so suddenly. I’m falling apart.”

She became solicitous of my well-being. “Don’t cry, baby, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. Here, get your clothes together and come over here. Aunt Jody will kiss those tears away.”

When I had my clothes in order again, she pulled me closer and put her arms around me. After she pushed my glasses upwards and out of the way, he started kissing my face, and then warmly on my mouth. Another surprise, perhaps. I liked what she was doing, even though I was sure I was being manipulated at the same time.

“You have so much potential, my girl. What is bothering you so much?”

I was bitter. “I hate this place and everybody in it. I hate Maspeth. I hate my own life!”

“Is that why you are doing these crazy things? I don’t see you with a boyfriend around here.”

My satirical sarcasm came out. “A boyfriend! Among this lot of losers?”

“They are quite a collection of mooks, that is for sure.”

“That’s why I have no qualms about exploiting them and taking their money.”

“You said you were a virgin, so I assume you haven’t had any experience with girls either. So what do you do for sexual gratification?”

By then, I had stopped crying, and I was quite loud. “What do you think? I masturbate!”

She found that amusing. “One of the things I’ve discovered while being a teacher is that girls masturbate as much as boys do. When I was your age, more than twenty years ago, I thought only bad girls did it. My friends thought they would be considered sluts if they admitted to pleasuring themselves. Now people can’t shut up about sex.”

Her trip through her memory struck me as being remarkably honest, but I still wondered about her subtext and what it meant to me.  I decided to push it further. “I’ve always assumed that you are a lesbian.”

“Bisexual is the correct term. That was another taboo topic. And Nora, I know that’s what you are too.” She pointed down to her crotch. “Why don’t you get it over with, and we can bust your girl cherry together right now. I’ll go first, I mean, I’ll show you how to lick me.”

“No, I’m too frazzled right now.”

“Some other time then?”

“I don’t know.” Then I let out more of my feelings. “Ms. Kuperman, you are quite a piece of work.”

She took that better than I had expected. “So are you, my dear. And, please, call me Jody.” Calling a teacher by her first name seemed unthinkable. “Get your jacket and book bag, and I’ll walk you to the door.” I seemed perfectly capable of getting to the door myself, but I was sure she’d have some final words for me. When we were there, she pushed my glasses back down and took my chin in her hands.

“Underneath all that bravado and sass, you are really a very sensitive person.”

That bugged me, and I was rude about it. “Please don’t try to tell me what you think I am. You don’t know anything about me.”

“Fair enough. But Nora, be careful out there. You are taking more risks than you may realize.”

She was right, but I didn’t want to admit it. “All right, whatever you say.”

“Nora, do you trust me? You should, you know.”

That was something else I didn’t want to discuss. “I’m not sure, I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

I just walked out the door and didn’t look back.

******

On the walk home, my behind ached, but I felt the sweetness in my pussy too. That lady is crazy, and she’s exploiting the girls in the school, too. But I was approaching the age of eighteen, old enough to make my own decisions. What got to me was how well she had read and understood my personality.

I picked up some take-out Chinese food near my house. When I got there, my Uncle Tony, who worked as a carpenter, was already home. “Nora, where have you been all of this time?”

“Nothing really, I just had to talk to a teacher.”

“You could have called me.”

I didn’t want to listen to his complaints. “Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

I got a beer out of the fridge to go with my food, and I hoped he didn’t notice me wince as I sat on a dining room chair. He looked like he was about to question me further, but he seemed to change his mind, and he went into the living room. He must have sensed my jumbled mood.

Later, I went up to my room to ponder my latest misadventures. As I sat on my bed, I thought about the cash I had “earned” and had hidden in a dresser drawer. It was under my panty collection, including two new sheer ones I had purchased. My uncle was rather prudish about such matters, and I doubted he would ever search through his niece’s intimate apparel.

That night, all of the day’s tension had to come out, and I fiercely masturbated a couple of times. It was my only access to physical pleasure, and I took full advantage of it that evening. Thoughts of my dean’s eager hands on me, and the sight of her dark pink pussy filled my mind.

Please, Ms. Kuperman, I need to be disciplined, and I need to be satisfied. Only you can do both for me. I knew she would seek me out again, and I would probably comply with her wishes.

As for the activities that had gotten me into trouble, I remembered what Scarlett O’Hara had said. “I can't think about that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow.”

Yeah, Vivien, you were more than a bit manic-depressive, weren’t you? So what’s my excuse?” It was my last thought before I fell asleep.