When she got home I showed her all my work which were all one hundreds except the ninety-eight paper. She was real happy and said, "I knew you could do it with a little motivation."
"Mom. I can't go to that school. It is scary. They don't just spank girls they hang them up by ropes and whip them."
She had me describe the whip then said, "That doesn't sound bad. You said the belts were smaller than your Dad's. That whip will just cover a little more area so it won't leave bad welts. You should be glad they don't use a blackboard pointer like the nuns used on me. It left terrible welts. Don't be a baby."
I hoped to get some sympathy from Dad but before I got a chance to tell him Mom said, "Lena did excellent at school. Her lowest paper was a ninety-eight. She told me the girls were spanked with a wimpy little whip. It must have scared her because she really went to work."
He laughed and said, "Way to go Lena. Maybe we should have bought a whip. It must be more frightening than a belt."
"Dad! It really hurts. The girls were crying and they do it on the bare skin!"
"That doesn't surprise me. You bawl and carry on with a little belt spanking that barely turns your skin red. I'll bet the girls were crying before they were even hit."
"Well yes, but it was because they knew how bad it would hurt."
"Well if you come home with some bad bruises I will talk to them. Otherwise if you don't do well you will just have to accept them."
The next day at gym we did aerobic dancing. We wore the same elastic white tights we used for ballet. By the time we got all sweaty we might as well have been naked. They became transparent and since the legs were cut up so high on the legs the bottoms all crept into the crack of our butts to leave them bare. I really felt like a klutz. The other girls went from one exercise to the other like the chorus lines in movies. I was always getting confused and having to catch up.
At the end of the class the teacher stopped me after my shower to tell me I needed to practice at home. The best grade he could give me that day was a seventy. I was good enough at math to know I was facing forty two lashes counting my other grades under one hundred. I had never gotten more than thirty spanks before and watched in dread as the clock hands moved forward. If that wasn't bad enough, one of my tests was a ninety seven. I just moved up to forty five.
When all the marks were in his grade book he stood up and said, "Lena has not done well today. She will get forty five lashes." There was a collective gasp from the other girls and everybody turned to look at me with sympathy or excitement on their faces as I got up to move toward the closet with shaky legs.
I remembered the ritual and gave him the whip with the kiss to his hand. I was so scared I had trouble getting the buttons unbuttoned and making the knots at my ankles. He was waiting impatiently with the collars when I straightened up and held out my hands for them.
Surprisingly it felt kind of good to be stretched. The padded collars didn't hurt my wrists.
Then the teacher did something differently than he had the other girls. He said, "Since this is your first time and you are getting so many lashes I won't hit as hard as normally and I will spread out the lashes so you won't be hit on alrady sore skin. You will be hit here." At that he caressed my butt. "Here." and he caressed my thighs, "And here." at that he slid his hand up from my crotch over my tight belly and across both of my boobs that I was so proud of. Not surprisingly that felt good since it reminded me of my brother caressing me.
I had my eyes closed when I felt a sting and burn to my butt. It shocked me and I cried "Ow!" He stopped to say, "Will you need the gag?" I certainly did not want that with the extra ten lashes it carried. I shook my head and promised to be quiet. I managed to keep my responses to just gasps and moans as the spanking went on seemingly forever. I found the ones to my tender inner thighs hurt the worst. It was a relief when the next lash hit my lower stomach. Then a strange thing happened. As I watched the thongs slowly working up my tummy to my boobs over the pain I felt my pussy begin to tingle as it did when I played with myself. When I watched the lashes making my boobies jump the excitement rose dramatically to increase as lashes began hitting my pussy. At the last lash where the ends hit right on the tiny slit of my pussy I got this great release and hung by the ropes with my head down, panting and trembling.
He untied my ankles allowing me to squeeze my legs together compressing the tender lips of my pussy. Then he lowered the ropes and unbuckled the cuffs as I stood there trembling.
He handed me my clothes and watched me put them on. When I pulled my panties tight against my pussy I gasped and he grinned at me seeming to know what I was feeling.
When school was out I found out I was a heroine. The other girls gathered around me and gushed over how brave I was. It turned out no-one had ever taken that many lashes without fainting or having to be gagged. Naturally I never told them that it had only hurt at first and then became so exciting I had an orgasm. I just enjoyed my new popularity. Even some of the older girls went out of their way to say hello.
I was only two blocks from home. As I walked it I swore I could feel the lips of my pussy moving. My brother was home and said Mom and Dad were eating in town so they would be home later and for me to put a TV dinner in the microwave. I was too excited to eat so I watched cartoons then went up to my room to do homework.
I couldn't concentrate on my books, as much as I tried. I kept reliving my experience keeping me in a state of excitement. Suddenly my train of thought changed. I remembered the teacher grinning at me as he lashed me and assumed he realized I came to enjoy the pain and that he had hit me easy. This made me think that since the whole idea of the lashing was to punish me he may decide to hit me much harder next time. I had barely been able to ignore the pain because of excitement with that lashing. The possibility of a harder one frightened me. To make matters worse I began to fantasize about being beaten with baseball bats or the nasty wood pointer Mom had described. I began to sniffle at the thought. I heard my parents cars coming into the driveway and ran down to meet them at the door crying. Mom asked what was wrong and I sobbed I had been whipped at school and they had to take me out of there.
Dad said, "You remember what I said. Show us the marks."
I saw Bill looking at us from the stairs. I wanted him to see the terrible things they had done to me too. I took off the jumpsuit and pulled off my panties then turned my back to them and said, "Do I need to go to the doctor?"
Dad laughed! "What the Hell for. It is just pink."
I couldn't believe that. I ran to the mirror to look for myself. He was right and when I looked at my front there were only a couple of little bruises on my pussy."
I began to defend myself, "It was terrible really! It is just that it was four hours ago and it healed."
My brother was no help at all, "She is really a little phoney. She was not bawling at all when she came home. She just watched cartoons with no complaints. She didn't start bawling till you came home."
Mom was mad, "You remember what I said about the school whip getting you to study where our belt didn't?" Well I got a whip we can use at home." She pulled a whip out of a bag that was kind of like the schools except the thongs were made of like leather shoe strings braided together.
Dad took it from her and said, "I think we should use this to let her know what a real whipping is like."
Mom agreed and held me down over an overstuffed chair while he hit my ass with it. The pain was ten times as bad as the school whip. Thankfully he only hit me five or six times before Mom let me up and I ran screaming and bawling to my room. Mom followed me. "Alright young lady. You have an extra incentive to study. Anytime your school believes you need a spanking you will get another at home."