Prologue: Exchanges with an Exchange Student

 

(from "Studies in Spanking: More Red-Hot Tails" by Ardie Stallard)

 

Belinda Krüger stared, eyes wide, at the long, thin paddle lying on the Principal's desk, and wondered how she had ever gotten into such a mess so quickly. She was an eighteen year-old German exchange student at a high school in a rural area of the American South. The daughter of her host family, Denise, who was her same age, had talked her into setting a whoopee cushion in the chair of one of their teachers when she'd briefly left the classroom. The trouble was, the teacher had returned sooner than they'd expected, caught them both at her desk, and sent them immediately to the Principal's office where they were now awaiting punishment. Poor Belinda hadn't even known what a whoopee cushion was until that day. She looked sideways at petite Denise, sitting in the chair next to her, and whispered: "Is that the punishment stick? It looks like a very heavy piece of wood to use on a person's hands! They used to do that at home, but not now..."

Denise, her own eyes wide in anxiety, hissed back, "It's not used on the hands! It's a paddle, and the Principal is going to bend us over his desk and spank our butts with it! Hard!"

Belinda's heart thumped crazily. Spanked HARD? While she was bent over a desk? On her SITZFLEISCH? "But... b-b-but..." she warbled nervously, "These slacks we are wearing are so thin! And so tight! And I've only a THONG underneath them! Maybe if I tell him that, he'll postpone our punishment..."

Denise glared at her. "I'm wearing the same kind of thong," she growled, "and that's not going to stop him for a minute! I know, I know, I got you into this, Belinda, but we might as well accept it. Our butts are going to be on fire in just a few minutes."

"On... FIRE? Mein Gott!" Belinda wailed, and began to sob, her face in her hands.

"Oh, not really on fire, that's just an American expression! Quit crying," Denise hissed, "it'll only FEEL like it's on fire... oops! Uh, hello, Sir! Lovely day, isn't it?" she gurgled nervously as the Principal stepped inside the office and closed the door. He frowned at the both of them.

"Denise and Belinda," he said, "you two should be ashamed of yourselves. You've both already passed your eighteenth birthday, and here you are, playing pranks like you were ten years younger! Very well. Since you've decided to act like juvenile delinquents, you'll be treated as such." He picked up the paddle and pointed it at Denise.

"You first, Denise," he commanded. "Since Belinda's an exchange student, she needs to see this before it happens to her. If there's anything in your back pockets, put it on the desk."

Denise gulped loudly, but stood up, walked to the side of the desk, shamefacedly pulled several folded pieces of paper out of her back pockets and laid them down, placed her palms on the desk, and arched her back, her long brown hair hanging down and covering her face. Belinda stared as the Principal lightly touched Denise's back pockets with the paddle as he took aim, then drew back and delivered five quick strokes to her lightly-clad bottom that sounded as loud as rifle shots. Denise gasped at the first spank, stood up on her tiptoes on the second, began to wriggle on the third, and finally, with the fifth stroke, gave a gasping sob. Tears running down her face, she squeezed her eyes shut, clenched her butt in her hands, and hopped from foot to foot as the Principal stepped back and pointed to Belinda. "You now," he commanded as Denise hopped to the side, still sniffling and trying to rub her burning rear end.

Belinda's stomach suddenly churned hard. Her head swimming, she stood up. It was almost as if the Principal's voice was coming from back in a tunnel; why did he have to be so young, and so handsome? But she finally understood that he was asking her if she had any paper in her back pockets, and she shook her head in the negative. "Nein, Herr...I mean, no, sir, I don't." she finally managed to utter.

The Principal pointed with the paddle to the desk. "Assume the position you saw Denise take, Belinda," he commanded. Slowly, Belinda inched toward the desk, finally placing her hands on its smooth surface and letting her lustrous blonde hair fall around her face as she arched her back. She could hardly believe that this was happening to her! The butterflies in her stomach felt as if they were flying out to other parts of her body now, even to her rear end as she anticipated the first stroke. Should she clench her buttocks, or let them relax? She almost looked up to the sniffling Denise to ask but quickly looked straight down at the desk again as she felt the Principal's paddle lightly touch her sit spots. He was taking aim! No time to ask! Oh, God! It looked like she'd find out the hard way; her buttocks were now clenched involuntarily and it seemed she couldn't relax them...

And then everything seemed to happen in slow motion...

CRACKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!

Belinda gasped. The hard wood paddle burned even more than she thought it would. She knew now what Denise meant by the expression "on fire" because she certainly was now! Her eyes went wide...

CRACKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!

The first stroke had almost paralyzed her with its fiery pain, but this one made it worse. "Oww!... oh... oh..." she began to wail...

CRACKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!

Belinda's poor buttocks clenched even harder as she stood on her tiptoes and raised her head up, her eyes shut tight now. Her hands balled into tight fists on the desk...

CRACKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!

Belinda sobbed hoarsely as both the fire in her bottom and the butterflies in her stomach flamed and fluttered through her pelvis. This was the worst burn ever.

CRACKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!

"AIEEEEEEE, MEIN POPO!" poor Belinda howled as she jumped straight up in the air, her hands on her throbbing, burning rear end even before her shoes touched the floor again. The two girls stood beside one another now, rubbing their rear ends in a hopeless effort to put out the hot fire in each, hopping from foot to foot, their pretty faces streaked with tears.

The Principal put the paddle back in a desk drawer. "You young ladies may go to the restroom before you go back to your class," he ordered. "And both of you better be mindful of your behavior! This could very easily happen again!"

"Yes, Sir!" both girls yelped as they grabbed their purses and flew from the office, shouldering their bags as their hands went back to their rear ends. In the hallway outside the office a few boys and other girls grinned and pointed at them; Belinda's face went scarlet as one particularly good-looking boy winked at her.

"Stop with me by the soda machine! You'll see why! Got a dollar in change?" Denise whispered to Belinda as they walked up the hallway with as much dignity as their flaming rear ends would allow them.

"Uh, sure," Belinda answered, digging into a front pocket of her jeans and wincing as the denim fabric tightened on her sore backside. "But what...?"

Denise was already putting her coins into the soda machine and pushing the button to get a chilled can of soft drink. She looked over her shoulder and murmured, "Buy one and let's get into the restroom! Hurry! Oh, God! He paddled us extra hard! My butt hurts so bad!"

Her own rear still flaming so hot that she had to concentrate on her every move, Belinda complied, picked up the cold can of soda, and followed her friend into the nearby restroom. Once there, Denise locked the door and ordered, "Undo your belt and let your pants drop now, like me!" No sooner had she given the command than she undid her belt and her trouser buttons, and her pants fell around her ankles, revealing a shapely but frighteningly crimson set of buttocks separated only by her thong. Still hardly unable to think on her own, Belinda copied Denise's movements.

"Now what?" she asked as she stood with her slacks at her feet.

Denise stood face to face with Belinda but she now stepped sideways, leaned forward, and began to roll her cold can of soda up and down, back and forth over Belinda's equally red, equally flaming buttocks. The sensation of relief was so intense that Belinda gasped and giggled. "Oh! That feels wonderful! Thank you so much!" she warbled as she wiggled her butt a little.

"Do the same thing to my butt with your can of pop! I hurt too, you know!" Denise commanded. Still sobbing and giggling simultaneously, Belinda began to roll and press the ice-cold soda can over and across her friend's butt. Both girls were crying and laughing now as they cared for each other's rear ends.

"You poor thing!" Denise finally chuckled as she continued to cool down Belinda's behind. "I bet you clenched your butt, didn't you? That always makes it hurt worse! Plus the fact that your rear end is so soft and tender to start with!" Belinda just shook her head in agreement, grinned tearfully, and wiggled a little more. She felt Denise's palm on her buttskin. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Even that hurts now! My butt's so sensitive your hand feels just like... like... what is the word in English?"

"Sandpaper?" Denise suggested as both girls burst into a nervous laugh, still rubbing the cold pop cans over each other's buttocks.

"Yes, that's it exactly!" Belinda answered. "Sandpaper! Mein Sitzfleisch... err, my seat... is not accustomed to being hit so hard, and it hurts! Badly! Gott!" She winced as the cold soda can ever-so-slowly cooled down the lancing, throbbing burn in both her buttocks.

"It always hurts worst, the first time, Belinda. You know," Denise confessed, "I once really dreaded being bent over and paddled, but now I sort of look forward to it. Would you... uh... like to get in trouble with me again next week?"

Belinda stood up straight, winced, and rubbed her cooled, but still stinging, behind carefully. "Ach! I'm staying for an entire semester with a girl who LIKES being spanked!" she sighed. "Ooo... my Sitzfleisch is SO tender! Oh! Ouch! Agh! Denise... I don't ever want to get into trouble, but I have a sneaky feeling that somehow soon, you'll make sure that I'll have to bend over the Principal's desk with you again! Ouch!"

 

***

 

Time passed, and Belinda got used to studying in America-and keeping out of trouble, though Denise never managed to do that. She still regularly visited the Principal's office, while Belinda, very carefully and conservatively dressed, often babysat for him and his wife. Still, Belinda wound up staring at the Principal's desk one more time, and oddly enough, she almost thought the experience was worth it. It all started when Denise and Belinda were discussing their love interests with their friends in the school cafeteria at lunchtime.

"Tell 'em your boyfriend's name back in Germany, Belinda," encouraged Denise. Belinda gave her a puzzled look, because Denise knew full well what her sweetheart's name was; he wrote her regularly and she wrote him back, and Denise had to have seen all the envelopes Belinda had saved. "Why, Denise," she answered, "you should know my boyfriend's name is Helmut. Why do you put it like that?"

The entire table erupted in laughter. "HELMET!" Denise brayed louder than anybody. "Belinda's dating a HELMET! What kind of helmet is he, Belinda, a football helmet, a motorcycle helmet, or a soldier's helmet?"

Belinda missed Helmut terribly, and hearing him ridiculed in this fashion was just too much to take. Her face flushed with anger and she snapped back, "Oh, you see fit to make fun of my boyfriend's name, do you? Well, let me tell you something! My Helmut has both good looks and brains, and that's more than I can say for that-that-that ARSHLOCH, that-grrr!-that SCHEISSDRECK, that you're dating!"

"I don't know what an arse-lock or a shise-drack is, girl," Denise bristled, "but they don't sound respectful! Take 'em back!"

"Never!" fumed Belinda, clenching her fists and rising to her feet.

To make a long story short, that was the start of a big scratching, punching, hair-pulling cat-fight right in the middle of the school cafeteria, and it ended up with both girls back in the Principal's office, bent over his desk and getting five extremely hard paddle swats apiece, through thin skirts. Belinda was so angry at Denise, though, that she didn't notice how hard the paddling was until after it was over. After he was done with their discipline the Principal made them shake hands with each other and apologize. Denise sobbed her apology to Belinda and actually gave her a brief hug. "I'm sorry, Belinda," she bleated, "Helmut must be a really nice guy for you to defend him like that! Oh, God, my poor rear end! It feels like it's been barbecued! This one wasn't even fun!"

"Helmut is a great guy," Belinda agreed, blinking back tears and biting her lower lip as she tried to rub the white-hot fire from her butt. "And I would defend him any time! I'm sorry I cussed your boyfriend in German! But still... this paddling was worth... every... single... spank..." With that, she broke down in tears and sobs and hugged Denise back.

"Couple of cold sodas in the restroom?" sniffled Denise quietly as Belinda hugged her.

"Sure thing! And let's hurry! Autschhhh!" whispered Belinda back. They were friends again.

The experience may actually have made Belinda feel closer to Denise. As the spring semester lengthened, they began to jog together in the early mornings, and Denise made jokes about how muscular their rear ends were getting. But things were still not quite perfect. Belinda's nineteenth birthday was approaching, and for some reason Helmut hadn't written her in two or three weeks-not even a birthday card, let alone a present. Maybe he's found somebody new and forgotten me, Belinda thought sadly. And after I fought for his name, too!

But for Belinda's birthday, Denise's parents reserved the town's swimming pool for a late-evening party, and Belinda and Denise invited all their friends. There was a big birthday cake and snacks for all the partygoers after the swimming was over, and Belinda had a great time playing water-volleyball and other games with her friends. But as she finished up her last volleyball serve, she wiped the water from her face and peered into the crowd near the food table. There was somebody there, not in swimming trunks but in a neat suit, that she hadn't invited, but-but-no! It couldn't be! It was HELMUT!

"HELMUT!" Belinda cried, climbing out of the pool and throwing her arms around his neck. "How... when...?"

Helmut returned her vigorous hug and added a brief but affectionate kiss. "I'm on holiday this week, so I hopped onto Lufthansa and flew over to see you and celebrate your birthday! Your friend Denise secretly arranged all this with me so it would be a surprise for you! That's why I hadn't written in a few weeks," he whispered in German.

Now Belinda hugged Denise again. "You trickster! Thank you so much! This makes up for... well... you know..." Both girls giggled.

"Have some birthday cake, Helmut!" encouraged Denise. "But first, we must observe an old birthday tradition in the South! Are you ready to help us?"

Helmut looked puzzled. "What kind of birthday tradition?" he asked, in fluent English though his accent was a cross between German and British.

"Why, Belinda's birthday spanking, of course! She gets one spank for every year of her age, plus one more to grow on!" replied Denise with a laugh. "Are you going to do the honors, Helmut?" All Belinda's friends applauded-even her parents!

"DENISE!" Belinda hissed, her eyes widening. "Surely you must be making that up! You actually do BIRTHDAY spankings in America? Like in Romania and the Czech Republic?"

"I don't know how the Romanians or Czechs do it, but yes, indeed," laughed Denise, "and Helmut: if you don't spank her hard, she'll think you don't like her! The harder the spanks, the more affection you feel for her!"

"Denise, NEIN! NEIN!" whispered Belinda desperately, casting a worried glance at Helmut-who appeared disturbingly interested in this whole birthday spanking idea. That smile on his face was just a bit too big!

"Oh, no, dear," answered Denise with another laugh, "It'll be nineTEEN, well actually, twenty, counting your one spank to grow on! Come on, Helmut, here's a folding chair! Make Belinda's birthday memorable!" All the other partiers formed a circle around the chair, and everyone was grinning broadly.

"Denise! I simply can't do this in front of everybody!" begged Belinda nervously.

Denise just winked at her and said loudly, "Oh, Helmut? Let me tell you about the time she defended your name..."

"NEIN!" gasped Belinda, grabbing Denise's arm.

"No, Belinda nineTEEN plus one, like I said," Denise laughed back.

Belinda glared at Denise but tried to put a good appearance on things. She hugged Denise as if in gratitude, but whispered in her ear, "Denise! Are you trying to blackmail me?"

"Now you've got it!" Denise whispered back. "Now take your birthday spanking like the nice mannerly German young lady that you are, or I'll tell Helmut about both your trips to the office staring at the Principal's desk!"

Belinda gasped. Denise turned to address Helmut again. "Now, Helmut: sit in the chair, please, and Belinda will lie across your lap to receive her twenty spanks. And remember: hard, so she'll know you like her! She's missed you so much!"

Helmut nodded, sitting down and offering his hand to Belinda, who was blushing bright red to the very roots of her hair. "I suppose we should honor the customs of the country, my dear?" he asked her with a smile. Her head was swimming at the very idea of submitting to a spanking from her boyfriend, and in front of a crowd no less... wow. She draped herself over his lap, letting her wet hair fall about her face to hide her embarrassment.

It only took one spank for Belinda to realize how much more intensely the sensation could feel when one was wearing only a soaking-wet bathing suit. "OH!" she squealed, wriggling and trying to look over her shoulder. Helmut's big, well-proportioned hand was coming down again... SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The crowd around her laughed and counted the spanks, louder as Helmut gave her backside, now reddening almost as deeply as her face, more swats: "Ten... eleven... twelve... thirteen..."

Belinda's butt was on fire! She couldn't help wriggling and squealing as the spanking intensified... but it was almost over now... her poor butt was flaming...

"Now the one to grow on, Helmut!" Denise yelled. "Make it count!"

"Okay," replied Helmut mildly, and raised his hand extra high... looking over her shoulder, Belinda gasped...

SMACKKKKKKKKKKKK!

"YEOWWWW!" Belinda howled as her hands finally flew to her derriere. She wriggled off Helmut's lap and stood hopping from foot to foot as the crowd all laughed and hugged her. These Americans, she thought as her butt burned. Making a spanking a friendly and romantic gesture!

Helmut embraced her. "I've missed you so!" he murmured in her ear.

"From that spanking, you must have missed me a LOT!" retorted Belinda, hugging him with one arm and trying to rub her sizzling butt with her other hand. "Where's the ice chest? Can you help me to it?"

Helmut grinned, not understanding, but took Belinda's hand and led her to the chest. As everyone cheered and clapped, she opened the lid and sat down and vigorously wiggled her bottom into the crushed ice and cans of soda, a shamefaced grin on her blushing countenance. "Have some cake, everybody! Thank you!" she finally encouraged them all when she found her voice.

Helmut squatted down beside Belinda as she continued to try to bury her butt in the crushed ice. He took her hand in his again. "You know," he observed in German, "these American customs are so interesting! A birthday spanking! Do you think we should make it a regular practice for your birthday, my dear?"

Belinda's eyes widened. Oh, mein Gott, she said silently to herself as she shook her head sadly, and only 364 days to go... just my luck...

 

Chapter One

 

"Belinda, how could we let this happen to us on graduation night, the very last night of high school for us ever?" Denise sobbed forlornly as Josh, her boyfriend, sitting between the two girls on a bench in the hallway outside the Principal's office, let her rest her head on his shoulder and tried to comfort her. Belinda and Denise were still in their academic gowns and their graduation caps were on the bench beside them. The awarding of diplomas, which had occurred on the football field with the graduates' families filling the bleachers, was over and done with and for now the three were the only people in the office. After being ordered by an angry Principal to wait on him there, though, Belinda was in no mood now to commiserate with the girl she'd lived with for almost five months as an exchange student.

"It's because ONE of us managed to talk the Dummkopf OTHER one, namely ME, into wearing hardly any clothing under our graduation gowns! And because a gust of wind blew up just as we were walking across the football field for the Superintendent to hand us our diplomas, the entire town has seen us with only thongs and stilettos on! Not even bras! We have no secrets now!" snarled Belinda in return, her face flushed in anger and dread over what was about to happen. She reached under and behind her and rubbed her backside, covered only by the thin cloth of her gown, and sighed nervously. Her bottom was altogether too sensitive to withstand very much of the treatment she knew it was going to be subjected to in a few minutes. She was nineteen already, Denise was eighteen, both of them had their high school diplomas now, and on the very last night of their high school careers the Principal was going to bend them over his desk and paddle them-again!

"But the weather's so hot! We'd have baked in any clothing under our gowns!" lamented Denise. Josh hugged her a little tighter in sympathy, and she sobbed softly once more. "If I only had on a nice thick pair of jeans right now! I might even enjoy this at least a little!" Belinda was well aware of Denise's attraction to spankings if they weren't too hard, but "not too hard" wasn't even a remote possibility tonight.

"Well! A nice thick pair of jeans you'd feel BAKED in? You can imagine how BAKED, or BROILED, we're going to be, at least one part of us is, as soon as Mr. Ziegler gets back here!" stormed Belinda. Butterflies flooded her stomach as she considered the prospect for herself. "Paddled on graduation night! May Helmut never find out about this one!"

"I should write him and tell him," pouted Denise. It was typical of her to lay the blame on someone, anyone, else when she found herself in trouble, and although she almost always apologized if given time, once again Belinda was her scapegoat. Helmut was Belinda's German boyfriend and he had come to America briefly to visit her on her birthday three weeks back. Denise had talked him into honoring Belinda with the Southern American custom of a public birthday spanking, nineteen swats and "one to grow on." Poor Belinda had just climbed out of the town swimming pool when Helmut had arrived and although she hadn't been familiar with how a thoroughly soaked bikini bottom could intensify the sensation of a spanking, she certainly found out that night. That occasion, and the two office paddlings she'd gotten with Denise over the past semester, constituted her education in Southern American high school discipline-and she was about to have a lesson impressed on her once more. But to have Helmut find out about it, after she'd been so careful to hide news of her two earlier paddlings from him?

"You'd better not, Denise!" she growled as she rose up from the bench, her hands reaching for Denise's long hair. Fire in her eyes, the other girl responded in kind and as luck would have it, Josh managed, with difficulty, to stand up between them, get a palm on each girl's forehead, and separate them just before Mr. Ziegler, the Principal, walked in with a younger man. Mr. Ziegler scowled at all three as his companion looked on in obvious discomfort, almost as if he expected to be punished himself.

Belinda's anger fled from her and she stared. Though she'd never met Mr. Ziegler's younger colleague, the two men looked strangely similar. She was pretty sure she'd even seen at least one picture of him at the Principal's house, where she'd babysat often. Oh, no! A relative! Likely a brother; Mr. Ziegler was too young to have a son this age. This was just too much. She bowed her head in shame as she put two and two together about his identity.

Mr. Ziegler took in the situation and decided the best thing he could do was let the fight threat pass. He looked a shade uncomfortable himself as he announced, "Everybody's already left the football field. I couldn't find any teachers or secretaries to serve as witnesses to this punishment, so we'll have to make do with my baby brother-err, I should say, rather, my younger brother-Zachary. He's just moved back to town and will be starting to teach summer school in our system and then in the fall as a substitute teacher. So although I suspect he'd rather be any place than right here right now his presence will suffice for a proper witness."

In spite of her anxiety over her fate, Belinda had to suppress a smile now. Zachary Ziegler? It was a good German surname, but she bet that the Principal's younger brother had had to engage in more than one fight while growing up because of schoolyard teasing about his name. If he's been in the office as many times as I have, maybe he can empathize with me, she concluded hopefully.

"So which of you naughty girls is first?" Mr. Ziegler demanded.

"She is!" exclaimed Belinda and Denise in unison, pointing at each other. Then again, in almost perfect unison: "No, SHE is!"

Mr. Ziegler rubbed his forehead and shut his eyes for a moment. It had been a long day already. "Very well, then. Denise goes first. Come into the office with us, young lady," he commanded as he opened his office door. His paddle was already laid out on his desk and both Denise and Belinda gulped when it caught their eyes.

"Aw, Mr. Ziegler!" Denise whined as her hands flew to her backside, "it's all Belinda's fault! Do you HAVE to do this? At least can Josh come in and let me hug his neck while you're punishing me?"

"I daresay Josh has already gotten an eyeful of you this evening," Mr. Ziegler growled, "and since he's probably taking you home-your parents have already left the school property in complete embarrassment and humiliation over your conduct, good luck in explaining all this to them later-he can provide you with ample hugs then. Right now you're getting your butt busted. Come on! Josh, we won't be a minute. You just wait out here," he concluded as he pointed inward to the office. Still whimpering dramatically, Denise followed the Principal and his brother in and the door shut behind them.