She had definitely not been impeccably well-mannered while at her residence. In the end, she had to encounter me in a formal position and be documented for ultimately falling under my jurisdiction at school once she reached the seventh grade. Emily, our initial daughter, happened to be our third offspring.

When I first encountered her name on my desk, I was taken aback, albeit in a peculiar way. In the interest of this narrative, I will refer to her as Molly, her closest companion, alongside the name of someone who I was not astonished to see. They had engaged in misconduct together previously, and this certainly was not the initial occurrence when Molly and Emily had been inseparable since their early school years.

Engaging in frequent conversations and causing disruptions in class, it was a relatively common violation – and I proceeded to document it. Their records were quite limited, naturally, and it was their initial visit. I signaled for them to sit down and summoned the young ladies to my office.

I was much more familiar with Molly, so I felt like ‘Mom’ to Emily. However, Mrs. Johnson, the vice-principal and teacher, saw me as the rest. Although there was a different vibe from most of the girls, I could tell that they were definitely nervous and they looked up to me.

I should have said that I got the proper response out of her, but Emily nearly jumped because I should have said that with a bit more force. “You should refer to me as ‘ma’am’ in this office,” I replied. “Sorry, Mom,” Emily replied. “So, can’t the ladies keep quiet in class?” I asked. I knew they were in trouble, but I had tried to get them into ‘student mode’.

After agreeing that we needed to meet for coffee soon, Molly explained why she would be sore and would need to go home eventually. These calls were less formal than I normally did, so we chatted a bit and I realized that it was the first time I needed to look up her number. Then, I phoned Mother Molly.

Initially, I attended to Molly whilst requesting Emily to exit the premises. The customary supplications prompted them to lower their heads. I proceeded to handle them akin to all the other pupils, and my focus reverted to the young women.

Molly took her place over my desk. I felt the shape of the paddle under her bottom and delivered three scorching hot pops to her bottom. I then sent her back to class and gave her a Kleenex. Finally, I ushered my own wayward daughter in.

I felt conflicted as I debated whether to continue treating her as just a student or to hide her tanning thoroughly by pulling down her underwear and then belting her when we got home. However, the day before, she was already getting off with just three licks from the paddle, so there was no chance for me to take over.

After a few moments of fixing my steely gaze on her, I came to a decision – there was a compromise. Instead of tracing the bottom of her skirt through her underwear, she flipped it up and lowered her underwear, resulting in a couple of squeaks of protest. But she didn’t think that was all, she was surprised.

Afterwards, we would continue the discussion, ensuring that Emily also received a tissue and was allowed to return to class. Despite having less protection, she received the same three spanks as Molly, demonstrating equal severity.

I had never paddled a bottom bare girl before, nor had I ever experienced something like that before. It was somewhat interesting to see the results of the paddling. She went over the arm of the couch. Emily did her homework and then we went home from school.

I was sure that she would think twice about disrupting class again, as I seriously considered taking her to a highly specialized school for misbehaving students. This was not a quick few licks to reignite her previous flame of misbehavior – it was a well-designed method to significantly alter her behavior. Although I expressed my displeasure with her earlier misbehavior, it was clear that my daughter’s hindquarters were sore from the belt’s impact.

Emily sobbed as I put the belt away and sent her to bed without supper. Finally, I tucked her into the couch.

I wish I could say that Emily’s final trip to my office was the least eventful school year.