Chapter I
Within seconds of the last period bell Mandy is working her way down the crowded school hall to see if Scott can invite her over to do homework. Or, as is more often the case, play WOW while some books and papers are randomly spaced between their laptops. She could go to her house too but her dad would be home in a couple of hours and was better at monitoring homework progress than Scott’s parents.
Scott is rummaging through his locker and trying to put on his jacket. His efforts are interrupted by two troglodyte upperclassmen who are playing keep away with his limited-edition Enterprise NCC-1701E baseball cap. Scott’s 5 foot 6 inch slightly pear shaped frame was desperately trying to jump up and reach it when he heard Mandy yell “give it back ASS HATS”
The ass hat on her left, Joey, stopped and looked at her while holding the hat above Scott’s head. His friend snickered at the angry scowl on Mandy’s face. Mandy walked up to the hat thief and held out her right hand, expecting him to hand it over. He threw it to his friend instead and turned toward Mandy with his shoulders back and chest exposed.
Faster than Joey could react Mandy’s open hand turned into a fist, twisted and drove about two inches into Joey’s solar plexus. Instantly Joey doubled over. His friend, not being appreciably brighter than Joey, grabbed Mandy by the right shirt sleeve. His assault was accompanied by a “Hey, what the fuck b….” He got to the “b” when Mandy’s left knee moved his scrotum up to his stomach. The elbow to the right side of his mandible was just for fun at that point.
Mandy was a bit taller and stouter than average but not a particularly large girl. However, she was strong as hell and not a bit delicate. She enjoyed lifting weights with her dad and sparring with him much more than the sports the other girls liked such as tennis and soccer. And she’d be caught dead before she wore a cheerleader’s outfit. For that reason and a few others most of the other girls didn’t like her that much but they were quiet about it, at least to her face.
As always happens at this point the ruckus draws a crowd which draws the fuzz. Or rather, Principal Dover, whose first name really was Ben. Mandy wondered why his parents would do that to him.
“You three, my office, now.” Mandy knew that a sentence without verbs was never a good sign. The two ass hats managed to drag themselves up off the floor and tried to mask the intense pain.
Fighting was, of course, near the top of the list of things one may not do. However, as the two lunkheads didn’t want to spend too much time explaining how Mandy laid them out they pleaded the “just horsing around” defense and got off with either five days of after school detention or 5 licks each. They each chose the licks, to be delivered after school tomorrow pending their parent’s signature on the approval form.
Ben had been doing this long enough to have a pretty good idea of what happened and was secretly on Mandy’s side. But admitting it would be a problem. He assigned her three days after school detention and a warning. To his surprise, she protested. She felt that she should be able to choose swats too.
Ben told her that it was not up to negotiation. She pleaded with him because of her responsibilities at home, her homework, after school projects and her rights expressed in the student handbook. Not many girls chose licks over detention but, she was right. She has the option. Ben often wished that he was a principal in a school a few miles west in Illinois where there is no corporal punishment. It is a lazy way of disciplining that provided no lesson other than that one may exchange malfeasance for a little pain.
“Ok young lady. Have this signed by your parents and then see the assistant principal after 8th period bell tomorrow.”
Mandy asked, “Mr. Dover, why can’t you do it?” He replied “corporal punishment is administered only by administrators or teachers of the same gender as the student. See you tomorrow Mandy” he said dismissively as he went back to work so he could get home at a decent hour.
Mandy walked home thinking about that prissy bitch, Ms. Rove, the assistant principal. She was always bugging her about her “unladylike” appearance. It’s true that Mandy was not real girly, but she was always clean and neat. Her frame was large but her hips and chest formed a pleasing hourglass shape, at least that’s what she felt when she looked in the mirror. And her light brown, almost red hair was naturally straight and always done in a presentable but perhaps banal pony tail. But Ms. Rove favored the girls who wore make up, designer clothes and chatted incessantly about what celebrities are up to.
Scott was waiting for her outside the school doors. He ran up to her and asked if everything is ok. She said that aside from having to see Ms. Rove tomorrow for licks everything was ok. And that her dad was likely to kill her on top of that.
“Whoa” he said. “They gave you swats?” He asked with a shocked look and his baby face. Mandy explained that the didn’t get them yet. She’d have to get a slip signed then go for them tomorrow after school.
Scott looked down at the sidewalk and thought about this. As he thought about this he noticed he was getting a little excited and felt embarrassed by it. Mandy and he had known each other since kindergarten. They were now sophomores at the same high school. Mandy liked the same things he did, like role playing games and sci fi. She didn’t make fun of him for being an admitted nerd. But they were also growing up and it was hard for Scott not to notice certain things.
They chatted for a bit on the way home. As they neared Mandy’s house she said “I’d better go home and wait for my dad today. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow or the next day.”
“Won’t you be grounded or something” Scott asked? She explained that she probably would be except that dad must go out of town tomorrow so he can’t enforce it. She playfully stole his hat off his head and ran a few steps before throwing it back to him and going in her front door.
Dad got home a little early and asked why Mandy wasn’t at Scott’s house. Jim was a little concerned about Mandy hanging out with Scott all the time. But not so much because he worried about her. Truth be told, he worried more for Scott’s chastity than hers. He figured that boy would hit puberty sometime about age thirty. Still, he was a good kid overall and she could be hanging out with much worse.
Mandy didn’t want to drag it out. She showed him the slip for him to sign. Jim was initially mad, both at Mandy and at the school for keeping the paddle as an option. She explained what happened and he calmed down. Jim was not a violent person but he wasn’t a pushover either. He admitted to himself that he was the one who taught Mandy how to hit and encouraged her to be aggressive. But he hoped she would only do this when the gloves were on. And as much as he didn’t feel Mandy should be blamed for defending her friend she did, in fact, strike first. She admitted as much.
Now, the question of what to do about it. He would be out of town until Friday so there would be a problem grounding her. While he wasn’t ideologically above painting her back porch red but he hadn’t done that in years. He reflected for a second. Even then he knew she was getting too old for that.
The last time was when Mandy was just learning all the juicy bad words, which is somewhat normal for an eleven-year-old. But practicing with her friends over the PA system at the water park is not within the normal, forgivable bounds for that age. Within seconds of hearing her voice he found his way to the source of the offending syllables. He gave her the look of death that only angry fathers can give. The other girls with her all had eyes the size of dinner plates and their hands reached back to their own bottoms in perhaps some sort of instinctive, sympathetic response. The finger point to her and then to the car was an adequate means of communicating his intent. She walked quickly with him to the car, her hair still damp and light from the last slide into the over chlorinated pool.
Without allowing her to say a word he opened the door to the house and let her go in first. She looked at him with that “but Dad” look and he just pointed to her room and told her to get ready. After calming down he grabbed a worn thin belt from his closet (he wanted to scare more than hurt) and opened her door to find her bent over the bed, swimsuit bottoms at half-mast just as he ordered. He almost laughed out loud when he saw her pale white butt contrasted against the tanned legs and back. It reminded him of the old Coppertone billboards he used to see as a kid. It was also at that moment he knew he should consider other options besides spanking. Her hips were getting a bit too full and her mind too mature for this type of punishment. Still, now that they were here he had to follow through on his threat.
The lecture was brief and direct. She was plenty old enough to know the kinds of things she should and shouldn’t do. His arm reared back and laid the strap down on her rear with a lot of speed but very little weight behind it. His intent was to make her bottom match the sun-tanned legs without causing any real harm. Within a minute or so he was starting to get results. Her bare feet began fluttering and she started flinching and squirming. A little more, he thought, and he could stop. He knelt on the bed and held her firm on her back. Partly to control her and partly to console. When her heels came up almost perpendicular to the floor with each stroke he knew he could stop.
Perhaps he raised her to be a little too tough and a little too unashamed. She got up off the bed, still bared and rubber her bottom in front of him, completely unconcerned about her state of undress. “Ow…geez Dad, is the skin still there” she said as she examined herself in her mirror.
“All right, enough complaining, get dressed and come downstairs, you’re pulling weeds for the rest of the day” he said, punctuated with one last, open handed smack to her bare, but evenly tanned rear.
And now, four years later, some stranger was going to put their hands on her. He debated with himself as to whether he should sign the slip. He thought about just pulling her out of school right now and enrolling her in a private school across the border. But then she would need a ride there and back. And she had friends there. So, he thought he would ask her how she felt about it.
Oddly enough she was ok with it, except the part about being paddled by this “Ms. Rove” lady. And that eased Jim’s mind a bit. And the fact that she didn’t like Ms. Rove would probably be a more effective deterrent than the paddle. He signed the slip and told her she was in for the night.
“What about the rest of the week, Dad” she asked with the well-practiced doe eyes? “You can go out but wherever you go there’d better be adults and you’d better be home, alone, by 9 every night.” He paused for effect. “And if you’re not I’m going to borrow that paddle from Ms. Rove when I get back” he lied.