Looking For Love: Part 2 of 6
Part 2: The Sultan of Swat
The next day was my first as a freshman at Eastwood. It was really great to have Karen to show me around and introduce me to all of her many friends. During one of those introductions, I was surprised by another revelation about Ms. Kilpatrick child rearing practices. After Karen told Libby Hollis that I was her stepsister, Libby looked at me and asked, “Has she busted your butt yet?” I couldn’t believe the kids at school knew about that stuff. During me second day, I ran into Libby again and that time, she was with a group of other girls. She whispered something to them and as they all giggled a couple of them made agonizing faces and rubbed their butts with both hands!
As soon as school was out, I met up with Karen so we could walk home together. I told her about the butt rubbing and face making and asked what in the hell was going on. “How do they know about the spankings you guys get?” I wasn’t prepared for Karen’s response. As we walked along, Karen explained that they were not referring to the spankings she and Jennifer got at home. The rubbing of their butts was in reference the paddling sessions her mom dolled out at school. She went on to explain that her mother had a reputation for giving the fearsome “swats from hell.” She explained that there were only two people at Eastwood that paddled girls and her mom was one of them. The other was an elderly coach named Ms. Gage. She said her mom swung the board like a pro swings a baseball bat and was known at Eastwood as “the sultan of swat.” She told me that most of the girls that had been paddled by both her and Ms. Gage said that each swat from her mom was equal to three from the other woman.
Wanting to hear more, I asked Karen what her Mom’s school paddle looked like and where she gave the swats. Karen described the paddle as being about 24” long, 3” wide and about as thick as your little finger. She explained that her mom had wrapped the whole paddle with white adhesive tape after it split while delivering an exceptionally hard swat to a sophomore’s butt. She added that her mom gave the swats in her office that was located adjacent to the Girl’s dressing room. She went on describing the process and explained how she would made the girls stand in front of her desk, bend at the waist and with their tummy flat on the top, grasp the far side and hang on for dear life. I got the idea Karen was exaggerating and trying to scare me when she added that her mom would lift the paddle until it touched the ceiling and added that when the swats landed, you could hear the pops from the center of the gym.
Recalling her orders for Jennifer to take down her jeans in grandmother’s bathroom, I had to ask, “Does she make them lift their skirts or drop their jeans for the swats?” Karen shook her head and said that the bare bottom stuff was only used at home. Like an expert, she went on to explain that at school there were rules established by the District. To overcome the problems created by the added padding of baggy jeans and skirts, her mom had developed a procedure where she would send the girl to change into her gym shorts and then report back for their padding.
As we neared the house, I inquired about the spankings at home and if she still got them. She indicated that she did indeed, but qualified it by proudly adding that it had been almost six months since her last one. I inquired as to what the strip was – and Karen started to balk. I asked about the baring of bottoms and Karen got snippy, “You don’t get spanked. It’s really none of your business. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore. It’s a private thing between me and mom and Jennifer.” After a pause she threw in, “She spanks us because she loves us and I am glad that she does.”
The one time I tried to get information about the spankings out of Jennifer she simply responded by saying, “Why don’t you ask my Mom these questions.” It was becoming clear to me that there was a lot of resentment concerning the situation and because I was not spanked like they were, we were not equals in the sister’s eyes.
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