Catch And Release Part Four: Naomi Goes To A Pretty Good School

She could have looked for a sympathetic party at school who might intervene for her, but she didn’t. The New Regime had begun close to the end of Spring Break. A couple of days later she was back in the classroom. Of course her parents had decided that from now on they’d be transporting her to school instead of letting her ride the bus. In this way they could make sure she was walking into the school doors completely underwear and bra free.

The beating of her nether regions had taken place less than eight hours prior to their dropping her off at school. And they of course made sure to drop her off right on time, no earlier. As she hobbled through the front doors she knew she would never make it to her first class on time. So, she took it slow. Walking quickly would have been agonizing on her pussy and thighs. She knew by the school rules the teacher would hit her bottom once per minute she was late but after last night, she couldn’t imagine caring.

As she walked in her teacher, a handsome middle aged gentleman, joined the class in whirling his head around to stare as she hobbled in. Without wasting a beat he said “You’re late, Naomi, fifteen minutes. Stand at the desk.

She was already headed there. She put her hands and elbows on the desk, looking out in some embarrassment at the students as they looked back—some stifling giggles, some looking nervous for her, some clearly interested in a prurient way.

Her teacher lifted the back of her skirt up, and there was a pause. He was now seeing her bare ass, and the massive bruises that were already all over it. She closed her eyes, tearing up a little, not sure what to fear or hope for.

He cleared his throat. “Hm. You’ll need to visit the principle over lunch, I think you understand why.”

“Yes sir,” she said with effort. At least he wasn’t exposing her poorly kept secret to the other students—they had no view of what he could see.

He did not exercise mercy, however, in the swats he administered. Fifteen straight to her bruised ass. She had thought she couldn’t be affected by such “light” punishment any longer—but she was wrong. She wept just as any other schoolgirl might have at being stung so harshly by her teacher’s yardstick.

She took her seat afterwards and failed to pay attention all morning. After the bell rang, the teacher wrote her a slip bidding her to visit the principle at lunch time. The principle would receive a corresponding slip from a teacher’s assistant, and so would know to expect her. There’d be no escape from that.

And of course, because of waiting for the slip to be complete, and because of her need to walk very slowly due to the unbearable ache in her vaginal and anal regions, she was late to her second class as well.

Rinse repeat.

At lunchtime she took her place in line behind several others—a few boys, several girls. One by one they entered the principle’s office, and exited hiding tears.

When it came to be Naomi’s turn, he had her stand in front of him while he read the slips her two morning teachers had sent him.

Looking up, he told her roughly, “Raise your skirt.”

Appalled at the thought, but knowing any resistance would just make things worse, she turned around and started to lift to show him her naked ass.

“Naomi I didn’t tell you to turn around.”

She stopped and gulped. “Yes sir,” she said and stood facing him squarely again. Blushing, looking at the ceiling, she pulled her skirt up. Her bruised vagina was now in his full view.

The principle harrumphed. “Each of your teachers should have given you twenty swats for that, and of course I would have been repeating that punishment per standard procedure. So that is… eighty swats for wearing no underwear. And for being late twice, I’ll be hitting you thirty additional times. Unbutton your shirt.

“I’m… I’m sorry?”

He just stared at her.

Blood rushed to her head, her vision swam a little, as she realized she was now also going to open up her chest for his view.

He nodded as her breasts came into view. If the bruises across them alarmed or concerned him he did not show it. “And no bra, which they should have checked for. Eighty more swats. So, a hundred ninety. And for your hesitation in showing me these infractions, we’ll make it an even two hundred. Take off your skirt.

Stupidly Naomi cried out, “Whaaaat? You can’t…”

“Two hundred fifty.”

What the fuck was happening? Naomi keened as she unbuttoned her skirt and slid it down her legs.

“With so many swats your skirt was sure to keep falling down, this will keep it out of the way. Hands behind your head.” He came to her side.

She grasped her hands behind her head, her unbuttoned shirt exposing her breasts freely.

As always, the principle was an absolute machine of a spanker. A hard blow with the paddle landed about once every second. Her knees buckled fairly early in the process as she screamed in pain but he was there to catch her and hold her around the chest as she complexly lost her composure.

Two hundred fifty swats to her but and legs, took him about five minutes to complete while she struggled in his grip, her breasts squished by his arm, her legs flying out wildly, her arms trying their best to stay obediently behind her head.

When it was over, he was breathing a little hard, but simply said, “Put your clothes on and go to class.”

Lunch was practically over. She had just a few minutes to get to her next class. She scrambled to put on her clothes, and exited the door. The next poor girl to be punished knew she’d never make it in time, and glared at Naomi as she went by, as though it were Naomi’s fault for taking so long to be spanked.

Obviously Naomi didn’t make it to either of her afternoon classes on time. This cycle continued practically every day of the rest of the school year—late to every class, her nakedness under her uniform spotted by every teacher, punished with hundreds of blows throughout the day. Then those blows repeated by her parents that night along with whatever other punishments they calculated were due to her. Then an orgasm, usually with further pain applied throughout.

The other kids began to catch on, even though the teachers generally hadn’t made a point to expose her. Getting involuntarily felt up became a regular part of her day. Occasionally she was punished even more when a teacher noticed this sexual contact.

But that wasn’t the worst of it by a longshot. PE was a serious problem.

It came every other day. So on day two of school, she found herself confronted with a decision in the locker room. Everyone was changing clothes around her. There were showers but Coach Simons had removed the curtains from them long ago. (She did this after she caught one too many girls either smoking pot or making out in the shower stalls instead of participating in class.) Naomi was stuck. If she changed for PE, everyone around her would see she was wearing nothing under her school uniform.

So she sat on the bench, awkwardly waiting for everyone else to leave, hoping to change fast enough to get into the gym on time for class.

But of course Coach Simons decided to come into the locker room and yell at everyone “Okay girls enough talking, let’s get out there!”

Everyone left, and there was Naomi, blushing on the bench, with Simons staring down at her.

“Naomi?” She said. “What’s going on?”

Naomi had no plausible response. If she simply refused, she’d be spanked both by Coach Simons and the school principal—and her under-skirt nakedness would be mean she’d be spanked by both again. At least if she went ahead and just started changing in front of Coach Simons, she’d just get spanked the one time by each of them.

Cringing, her eyes tearing up, Naomi murmured “Sorry Coach Simons” and began unbuttoning her shirt. Maybe Simons would leave once she saw Naomi was doing the necessary.

Maybe, but nope. She just stood there staring. Furiously blushing, shaking even, Naomi kept undressing until the nakedness of her chest had become apparent.

“Well well!” said Coach Simons. “Why in the world are you not wearing a bra?”

Once again, Naomi couldn’t think of anything good to say. Just claim she liked it better? That would be too rebellious, would lead to greater punishments. She didn’t know what else to say.

So she said the truth. “My… I’m not allowed… at home…” she stumbled. She hoped if she left it at that Simons would get the message and leave her alone.

But again, no. Coach Simons’ response surprised Naomi: “I thought that might be the case.”

Naomi dared to look up. “…You did? …Why?”

“Here, why don’t you finish dressing up and come to my office. I’ll put Gunderson in charge.” That was the teaching assistant for the PE class.

Did Simons then go out into the gym to leave Naomi to change in peace? Of course not. She watched Naomi’s entire ordeal, gestured for Naomi to exit in a “ladies first” kind of way, and followed her out. “Still wearing your watch I see,” she said quietly. “You know that’s not allowed in PE.”

Naomi muttered back, “I know… I, I’ll take it off in a minute?” Playing for time. The watch had to stay on or else her parents would be signaled that she’d taken it off, rendering it unable to monitor her heartrate, causing them to assume she’d been masturbating for the duration, and that she’d had an orgasm every fifteen minutes. That’s what the new household rules said would be the assumption if she wasn’t wearing the watch or it wasn’t working.

Being convicted of orgasming out of turn would lead to the most nightmarish possible punishment. She couldn’t let that happen.

After quick words with Gunderson, Coach Simons brought Naomi into her office and closed the door behind them. She had Naomi take a seat on a little couch she had set up on one wall, and she herself pulled up the chair from her desk to sit facing Naomi. “Your parents called ahead,” she said.

Aghast Naomi sputtered, “what?!”

“We’ve all been instructed by Principal Collins to assist your parents in making sure you stay, you know, sexually pure? Here at school. Apparently… you’re not allowed to masturbate.”

Naomi sobbed. How could Coach talk so casually about something like this? Shouldn’t she be embarrassed? Appalled even? Was every teacher at the school now privy to the worst details about her?

Simons put her hand on Naomi’s shoulder. “It’s okay. That’s why I brought you here. I can help.”

Hope? Or doom? Did Naomi want anyone to interfere with the arrangement her parents had concerning her? She couldn’t imagine what the consequences might be.

“What do you mean?” she asked carefully. “I don’t want…”

Simons interrupted. “I mean, you can masturbate right here during class and I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

Naomi was to say the least extremely uncomfortable. Her eyes wide, she began shaking her head. “What? No I… that’s…?”

Coach Simons gave her a “what are you thinking” look. “I mean, I guess I should say, you don’t have a choice?”

Naomi started to feel far away. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you need to start masturbating right now, and go all the way with it, or I’ll tell your parents I caught you doing so.”

“Coach! What? Please…”

“Uh uh,” Coach stopped her. “Every day when you come to class, I want you to go straight to my office instead, and I’m going to let you masturbate in here, and I won’t tell a soul. But if you don’t, then I’ll get you in serious trouble with your parents—don’t think I won’t!”

Naomi closed her eyes and processed. “But if I masturbate, my watch will detect my raised heartbeat, and if it gets to orgasm levels, my parents will know…”

Ms Simons snapped, “It’s PE class, stupid. Of course your heart rate goes up. That’s going to happen whether you do your business or not. Now get started!”

After several seconds Naomi said with a calmness that surprised herself, “Is the door locked?”

Simons laughed. “You bet it’s fucking locked, that’s the first thing I made sure of when I brought you in here. So, you know… off with the pants, and go ahead and pull up your shirt while you’re at it.

So it began. That first day of PE, Naomi spread her legs in front of her PE teacher and made herself cum, while crying a bit at the same time. Just before she came, Coach Simons brought her phone up and snapped a single picture. Naomi cried out “No!” just as she came. Simons laughed and after Naomi’s orgasm was done said “Don’t worry, I won’t show anyone I promise. This is just for me for later.” She winked.

Naomi began picking up her shorts, class was almost over. “Uh, did I say you could get dressed?”

Naomi dropped the shirt she’d started to pick up. “I guess… not?”

I’ve got you for breaking dress code twice—no bra, no underwear. That’s forty swats. And a PE class dress rule once—no watch allowed during activities. That’s sixty total. You technically were absent from class but I’m going to let that one go, can’t have you counted absent every day that will look weird if anyone notices. Still, I did see you step into gym a few seconds late and you delayed as long as you could in the locker room, so for being late we’ll do another ten. Seventy swats, let’s go!

“You’re going to… are you going to spank me?” If you can imagine someone quietly shrieking, that’s exactly what Naomi was doing to these words. “You just made me fuck myself in front of you and you’re still going to hit me?”

“Better hurry and get in position, bell’s ringing soon. Just like always, after I spank you as the teacher you’ll report to the principal so he can have the option of repeating the punishment.”

“But I told you, it’s not fair my, my parents make me…” Naomi broke down in sobs, even as she said these words she knew it was hopeless and was already getting up to go into a spanking position.

“Yeah, you have some interesting parents. I’m interesting too!”

She had Naomi bend over deeply, her hands on the seat of the couch, her naked ass sticking straight up in the air as she delivered seventy swats to her, starting with the paddle, finishing with the belt. Then she let her get dressed in her PE clothes and, as lunch period was just starting, she marched Naomi, the girl crying and shrinking from the curious stares of everyone around, down to the principal’s office.

Once the door was closed, Ms Simons took one of the principal’s spanking canes and laid it across the floor. Naomi was made to kneel on it silently while Simons explained the four rule infractions to the principal.

Of course the principal was going to “exercise his option” to repeat the punishment. Naomi was beginning to think, now that she was apparently part of the punishment pipeline at the school, that these spankings were what kept him coming to work every day.

That was seventy swats, plus of course, swats for tardiness and under-clothing nakedness for the previous period and the two periods after lunch from yesterday. (Naomi didn’t know whether it was fortune or misfortune that her teachers had now taken to going ahead and administering dress code punishment on the spot, so the principal felt no need to administer those twice this time!) The total for those, counting the minutes late, came to 152. Adding the twenty brought her to 222 swats.

Simons stayed in the room, relaxing into the corner comfy chair, smirking, her legs spread in a manly fashion, and watched Naomi’s suffering.

“Drop your shorts to your knees,” the principal said shortly. How it still felt so outrageously humiliating to expose herself to him and Simons, after all they’d seen already, she didn’t understand. She was silent, but shaking, as she pushed her shorts down to the floor at her knees, still resting across the cane.

“You will need to remove your shirt today as well, your PE uniform is too long for punishment.”

Numbly, she complied.

“Keep your knees where they are, but you may grip the desk in front of you.” Naomi was ashamed at how grateful she felt for this—without that support she feared she would lose complete control again like yesterday. She didn’t want to give either of them the satisfaction.

He shocked her by beginning with blows from another cane—to her back.

He spread the blows up and down her back, her butt, and her upper legs. When she failed to remain erect in her kneeling position he declared blows during that interval didn’t count. This kept her upright, for the most part.

After some time, he switched to using his belt, again on her legs, her butt, and her back. She had already been helplessly mewling and on the verge of open mouth crying. At the first hit with the belt she involuntarily screamed.

When it was finally over he allowed her to stand and replace her clothes. The pain in her knees was amazingly the focus of her attention despite what had just happened to her entire backside. The agony was amazing.

Ms Simons left with her. “Don’t be late for your next class” Simons laughed. The next girl rushed past her into the principal’s office already crying. Naomi realized with despair that once again she wouldn’t be able to make it to lunch.

In fact she did not manage to eat a single lunch during the entire remainder of the school year.