He lifted the schoolgirl to her knees, forcing her head into a painful angle against the leather surface of his desk. Mandy, as Smith had already noticed, had a
superb ass for a petite girl of eighteen. Smith noticed that the red marks he'd made when spanking her earlier had all but disappeared. That was the
first order of business. One of the things he'd picked up on his tour of the school offices was the principal's official paddle. It was a
stout, black leather affair, its sand-weighted blade about eighteen inches long and five wide. It's ebony handle was well worn by the hands of generations of Catholic sadists.
Smith walked to the front of the desk and showed it to Mandy.
"Now you'll get your proper paddling, by God," he said.
"Please," the girl squealed, her voice high and almost inaudible. "No."