BY : XxSwaggerMcJaggerxX
Category: +M through R > Recess
Dragon prints: 1516
Disclaimer: I do not own Recess and do not make a profit from this work.

Hearing the door to his office open and close wasn’t unfamiliar to Principal Prickly. A handful of students usually were dragged back by Ms. Finster for causing some sort of trouble. But lately, with the school districts new rule allowing for a different type of punishment, there was a stop to that, as of late. But of course, if it was any student that would break a rule despite all of that, it would be Detweiler.

The boy stood in front of his desk, his clothes splattered with drying paint.

“What are you in for this time, boy?” He asked.

“It’s actually a funny story, sir,” he said.

“Really? Humor me, then.”

“Uh, we were trying to get back at Lawson and his group for messing with us all week,” TJ said. Not even one sentence in and it sounded back. “It evolved paint, but instead of covering them in paint, we, uh, ended up covering your car. . .”

“My WHAT?!”

He watched as the principal shot out of his chair and to the window that gave him a view of where his car was parked. His cherry red car had a brand new coating of blue paint.

“I just want to say that your patience with us is very admirable, sir,” he said. “Any other principal would’ve expelled me by now, and I appreciate your overwhelming understanding of me and my friends actions.”


“Do you know about the school districts new rule?” Prickly asked. “The one they implemented a month ago?”

“You mean the one allowing corporeal punishment?”

“Yes. Do you know what that is?” He pointed to the paddle pinned up against the opposite wall. All the schools in the district were given one or two, because of the new policy.

“. . .That’s a paddle, sir,” his whispered. “Are you gonna use it on me?”

“What do you think?”

“I think that you’re going to see that this was a complete accident and let me go with a slap on the wrist,” he tried. By the look on the older mans face, it didn’t work.

“Nice try, Detweiler,” Prickly said. “Bend over the desk.”

The force of each strike thrusted him into the desk, making him rub against the dark wood just enough to make him feel something. Something that he didn’t have a word, for, but it felt good. Where he once wanted it to be over with as soon as possible, he wanted to continue. He had to cover his mouth to keep any sound from slipping out, but that control was slipping. The vibration of the paddle through his clothes and across his skin, being bent over the desk, exposed and somewhat powerless to the punishment being dealt to him. . .




“A-ah. . !” A moan slipped through his fingers when another strike landed.

The older man stopped, knowing what he heard but desperately wanting to have heard wrong. He watched as the fourth grader looked back at him, hands covering his mouth but with a blush spread across his chubby freckled face.

Good lord, he was going to hell for this. He was going to the deepest, hottest pit of hell for this. But that moan that slipped out of him, it sounded very, very nice.

“. . I-I’m sorry, sir,” he whispered. “We trampled over your private garden, too.”

No one knew they had done that, and if he hadn’t mentioned it, he would’ve gotten off scott free. But. . .it was a good reason for whatever was happening right now to continue, and that was what he wanted.

“So you think you and your friends can destroy my property, do you?” he asked. He rubbed the flat side of the paddle against the boys groin, and noticed that he leaned into it.

“Ah. . no s-sir. . .I’m sorry, sir.”

“I don’t think you are,” he said, pulling the paddle away.

“It won’t happen again.”

“Oh I’ll make sure of it.”

He moved closer, placing a hand on the younger boys back to keep him still as he used the other to strike him with the paddle. Again, and again, and again. With each strike, a moan slipped out of the fourth graders mouth, who had given up trying to stifle them. Each moan sounded oh so good coming out of him.

When he stopped, Detweiler was left a sobbing mess who was barely able to stand as waves of pain travelled from his bum and up his back and down his thighs.

“Did you learn your lesson, boy?” Prickly asked.

TJ nodded, wiping away his tears. Sure, some of it was pain, but that didn’t mean those moans weren’t real.

“Good. Now leave. I’m a very busy man, I can’t spend my time disciplining unruly children. He watched as the fourth grader leave, Prickly exhaled, holding his head in his hands, wondering what the hell just happened.

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