A Christmas Production

As I have stated many times before, I was really involved in my high school theatre productions. I was in charge of the props you see. Which meant most times I had Miss’s keys to the props room. In my second to last year of high school, my drama class put on a Christmas Production. Again, I was in charge of the props. After jumping through many hoops, we were allowed to have a real (but non-firing) BB gun in our props collection. There was one major condition. The BB gun was to be locked in the props room at all times except rehearsal. Me being props keeper, locking the props room was my responsibility. It shouldn't have been that hard right??

 

Two weeks before show time I was summoned to Miss’s classroom. I couldn't figure out what I could have done wrong. I had all my schoolwork completed on time. I had been in every class. I didn't understand why Miss summoned me during lunch. I knew what a meeting at lunch meant. I just couldn't figure out what I had done to earn myself a spanking. Miss was waiting for me at the door as I turned the corner. I could tell she wasn't impressed with me.

 

"Get in the studio."

 

"Yes, Miss," Miss followed me spanking me along the way, "What did I do, Miss?"

 

"Do you want to tell me what this is?"

 

"Oh, shit!"

 

"Oh, shit is right!"

 

"It's the BB gun," I admitted!

 

"The BB gun that you swore to me you would lock up every night."

 

"Crap."

 

"You swore you could be trusted with this responsibility."

 

"I'm sorry," I stammered out guiltily.  

"No, sorry isn't going to cut it. You are about to learn a hard lesson in responsibility over my knee."

 

"Why are you so mad at me?"

 

"Because Mr Pfeiffer just returned this to me."

 

"Mr Pfeiffer?"

 

"And where did he get it from, Sunshine?"

 

"I don't know, Miss."

 

"From the hands of our now suspended lead actor!"

 

"Suspended?"

 

"Yes, suspended! James thought it appropriate to walk around the school with this gun."

 

"That's not my fault," I tried to reason with. 

 

"Why was it out of the props room?"

 

"Because I forgot to shut up the props room last night."

 

"Is it still not your fault?"

 

"No, Miss."

 

"You are going to learn what happens when you don't take your responsibilities seriously."

 

"Yes, Ma'am."

 

"You're getting the hairbrush and it's going to be bare."

 

"Please, Miss?"

 

"Yes, Sunshine the hairbrush. Bare your bottom."

 

"Not bare?"

 

"If I have to do it for you it's going to be worst!"

 

"No; I'll do it but I didn't make him walk around the school with it."

 

"That's not the point and you know it."

 

Shifting from foot to foot I stood bare in front of my disciplinarian waiting for her to lower herself in the chair. I after all had no real argument to save me from this punishment. It was true that I should have made sure things were locked up the night before. It was just as true that it was my responsibility I had neglected. I was just in such a rush to get out of rehearsal I didn't think. I had the house to myself the night before and I wanted to take full advantage of every minute.

 

"Over my knee, now!"

 

"Yes, Miss."

 

This being our fourth year together I knew what was expected of me. I climbed obediently over Miss’s knee. Perfectly positioned just the way she liked my naughty bottom to be.

 

"I'm sorry, Miss."

 

"Two weeks before opening. I don't know who I'm more disappointed in. You or James?"

 

Crack! Crack! The hairbrush landed before I had a chance to form any kind of response. Hard and swift the hairbrush came down. Miss was spanking me harder than she had ever spanked me before. I was scared I was going to be bruised forever. I knew responsibility was a huge rule in Miss’s books. The crack of the hairbrush was only interrupted by my brief I'm sorry, ouches, and tears. I was soon begging for mercy.

 

"Please, Miss. I promise I'll be more responsible."

 

"Sunshine, you are grounded until after the play. Do you understand me?"

 

"Yes, Ma'am."

 

"And if you ever leave that door unlocked again you will lose the right to have the keys."

 

"Yes, Ma'am."

 

"That is after you get spanked twice as long and twice as hard with the paddle."

 

"Not the paddle," I sobbed.

 

"Do I make myself clear?"

 

"Yes, Miss."

 

"Get up and into the corner. After which we will discuss what you are and are not allowed to do for the next three weeks!"

 

"Yes, Miss."

 

In the corner, I found myself again. I hated when Miss grounded me. It was always worse than "regular grounding." Fifteen minutes I stood in the corner wondering what torturous grounding Miss had in mind this time.

 

"Sunshine?"

 

"Yes, Miss."

 

"I don't ever want to have to talk to you about this again."

 

"Yes, Miss."

 

"You're grounded, which means lunch hour in the corner. Lines every day until after the play."

 

"How many?"

 

"100 a day. I will be more responsible with my responsibilities."

 

"Yes, Miss."

 

"And you are restricted to your room. No computer except for homework. Am I understood?"

 

"Yes, Miss."

 

"If you break this grounding, you will be back over my knee again."

 

"I understand, Miss."

 

"It won't be the hairbrush."

 

"Yes, Miss."

 

"Now fix yourself up and get to class."

 

"I'm so sorry, Miss."

 

"I will see you at rehearsal."

 

"Yes, Miss."

 

Miss held open the door as I returned into the hallway a well-punished and balanced little girl.

 

"Thank you, Miss."