Hot Bottoms At Middlesex High, Missy Meets The Dean, Part A free porn video

Missy’s mom, Denise Johnston, had just upset her daughter’s world. They were moving at the end of the month, two counties over, to a new school district; one well known for turning out well-behaved and productive graduates.

Missy’s dad had died eight years ago, when she was ten. He had handled the domestic discipline as needed until that point. At those tender years, all it took was the announcement of a spanking and two or three slight taps on her padded young tush to bring Missy to tears. Even then, she was very free willed and those spankings, by a loving father, had little effect. As she got older, her mom realized she was unable to give her cute and spunky daughter the attention she needed, and her misbehavior proved it.

With working two jobs, as a secretary during the day, and a waitress several evenings a week, her time for domestic discipline was limited. She also dreaded having to do to her daughter what her parents did to her. Despite the unpleasantness of periodic spankings over their laps, Mom realized the immediate pain and embarrassment was far outweighed by its by-product; turning her into the proper woman she was.

Mom even remembered a few spankings she had received over her husband’s lap. She cried at the fire, and even though he was her husband, was humiliated by the way he punished her as if she were a child. A very juvenile correction for her minor deficiencies.

She was terribly embarrassed as he lowered her panties to her knees, baring her full bottom for her needed punishment. But when he totally forgave her for her misbehavior, and made passionate love to her afterwards (she being on top, of course!), Mom realized he did the right thing and truly loved her. She knew that heat in the tail was the best teaching tool for young girls, but she needed some help in delivering it to her undisciplined daughter. She wished her husband was still around, even if she had to go over his knees every once in a while.

Missy, learning of the move, was naturally very upset with this turn of events. With Mom never home till late at night, she was free to do as she pleased. Homework was rarely done, nor were the chores her mother left for her. Missy needed some direction and control, but Mom realized she was not up to the task. Her daughter didn’t have to fear the periodic parental spankings that kept her friends in line.

When they came home late, or received poor grades in school, her friends reported they often got a trip over Mom or Dad’s lap and heard their cries drowned out by the strap or hairbrush on their tender bare bottoms. Missy laughed when she heard those stories. She did what she wanted with no fear of punishment. That was all to change soon, to Missy’s great discomfort.

Then, Mom heard of the wonders the Middlesex High School was able to perform. Wayward and unruly teens were turned into good productive citizens. Whether on to college or the work force, they minded their elders, performed their tasks, and were thankful for their lessons.

Missy would join many other problem students, transferred there from throughout the tri-county area, due to their disruptive behavior problems. Strong willed young girls, denied graduation privileges elsewhere, until they proved they were ready to leave school and join the community. Although old enough to graduate at eighteen, they were sent to Middlesex High to smooth out their rough edges. Most learned to comply with the rules and eventually became model citizens. That is exactly what Mom wanted for her recalcitrant daughter. Spank some sense into her head, through her sassy bottom, of course.

There were rumors that some form of corporal punishment was administered, but the parents never complained, as they were happy with the end result. Missy was very apprehensive over the move and new school but there was little she could do. She said good-bye to her friends and promised to stay in touch.

One told her that she had heard rumors that the school was tough on misbehavior, and they had a very efficient way in dealing with it. When Missy asked what it was, the friend giggled and said she’d learn soon enough.

At Middlesex High, the students’ orientation came from the history teacher, Bob Perkins, who doubled as the boys’ dean. When Mom dropped Missy off that first morning, the school secretary had Missy wait outside while the school rules were explained to Mrs. Johnston. She willingly signed the parental consent forms and told the secretary that was exactly why they chose this school. Mom was told that despite many students being eighteen or more, they would still be spanked as if they were half that age.

Mom kissed Missy goodbye and wished her a good first day at school. Missy was then put into a class of kids her age, mostly transfer students, and the strikingly pretty youngster quickly made friends. At lunch, when she asked about the “behavior modification” program she heard about, the others girls merely smiled, but said little. One told her the history teacher was everyone’s favorite, but on occasion visits to his office were not fun. Missy was advised that she would meet him during her first week there. He liked to explain the rules personally.

A few days later Missy was summoned to the dean’s office. Apprehensive as usual when not knowing what to expect, she walked into the outer office. His pretty young secretary, Holly, asked her to wait until he was ready. The very nervous young girl squirmed about for twenty minutes, worried about this first meeting with the dean.

Holly took out a book and made some notes. Several times she looked up at Missy and smiled. “She seems nice,” Missy thought, but wondered what she was writing down.

Finally, a hunk of a man, 32 years old with a great smile on his face, opened the door and invited her in.

“Welcome to Middlesex High, Missy, great to have you in our family.” He was gorgeous, and his good looks caused Missy to involuntarily tremble. She accepted his invitation and sat in front of his desk, on a straight-backed, strong wooden, armless chair. He explained the school rules to her, and said he expected her to follow them. He said the school was a big family and any violations were disruptive to all.

She noticed a large fraternity paddle on the wall behind his desk. She had heard he used that on the boys who were sent to his office. Girls, she was told in the schoolyard, had their deficiencies “explained” to them differently.

His calm voice soothed her nervousness at the first meeting. The dean seemed like a very nice man and she just couldn’t believe he would do the things she heard hinted about. He wished Missy well and sent her back to class. But Missy, being Missy, it didn’t take long for her to be invited back.

Missy had not been turning in her home work, was late on a few occasions and was impervious to her teachers’ requests to comply, as well as being insubordinate when confronted with her poor behavior. Her friends knew it wouldn’t take long for Missy to meet Mr. Perkins again, only this time under slightly different circumstances. She would be impertinent no more.

It was not surprising when at the end of class one day during her third week at Middlesex, her Home Room teacher, Mrs. Williams, told her to report to Mr. Perkins after lunch, the next day. He had been advised of her behavior and wanted to discuss it with her.

After school that day, all her friends kept smiling at her. Not knowing what they meant, she kept asking. They told her that Dean Perkins had a reputation for turning misbehavior around and she would learn all about it tomorrow.

Insisting they tell her what would happen, one girl, a very pretty young classmate, just told her to make sure her hair was well groomed. The word groomed, got all the rest laughing. Most had visited Mr. Perkins after some minor infractions. While they loved the one on one relationship with the good-looking young dean, they always walked out somewhat stiffly, but definitely more compliant.

A few, on occasion, waited a few weeks before being slightly disrespectful to their own teachers, which earned them a return for a “minor correction.” These visits had to be properly spaced though. The girls knew quite well there was only so much their cute buns could take, even when they wanted to lift their skirts for that thrill filled ride.

The rest of that day was very frightful for Missy. Anxious and fearful at the same time, Missy hoped that a spanking was not in order. She was eighteen years old and a high school senior! Teachers couldn’t do that, could they? In any event, she was too old to be spanked. That was for children, wasn’t it? He would probably give her detention or put her on probation. She doubted he would use that paddle on her.

The boys, she heard, had to bend over the back of his chair, hands on the seat, while he gave them ten solid swats on the seat of their jeans. Their howls were heard three classrooms down the hallway. He wouldn’t do that to her? He seemed so nice.

Wanting to make a good impression for the stern lecture she hoped was the only thing she would receive the next day, Missy showered and shampooed her pretty blond hair that night. She selected a nice short skirt that showed off her attractive legs and butt, and a form fitting pullover sweater. Her tits weren’t large, but Missy was happy with the way they filled out her sweater. She hoped the dean did too.

Looking nice will probably temper his actions, she thought.

But what if he did want to punish her? Be it paddle or something else, she still wanted to look good underneath the skirt, in case it rode up a bit. She only had her white cotton panties, typical of girls still living at home, at least according to her mom.

On the way to the bus stop the next day, Missy stopped at the lingerie shop and picked up a pair of tiny black silky panties that made no effort at covering her young bottom cheeks. If he did make her bend over, this might stop him in his tracks and not treat her as a little girl still wearing a child’s underwear. She was an adult and should be treated as one!

Missy took the hairbrush to school to give her hair a final tune-up at lunchtime, just before reporting to his office. Little did she know that her hairbrush would be doing most of the talking later on.

Missy couldn’t keep still all morning, fidgeting in her seat. Approaching her friends, she inquired what the day held for her and what she should say to Mr. Perkins when he asked her to explain her misbehavior. During each break she asked them what to expect. All she got was “Dean Perkins is a fair man,” and, “We’ll be here for you when you return.”

After barely finishing her lunch, she went to the rest room and brushed her hair again. Placing the solid hairbrush back into her purse, she straightened out her clothes, hoping she looked nice. Then she remembered the new panties and went into a stall and put them on. Knowing these offered no protection; she hoped they would win the day for her.

Missy presented herself to Perkins’ secretary, Holly, in the outer office. Holly, just 21 years old, had been a student at Middlesex and graduated three years before. Having spent considerable time in Mr. Perkins’ office, most of it over his knees as a wayward student, she was thrilled when he hired her upon graduation. Perkins, on the other hand, wanted all to know what a lovely young lady she turned into; living proof of the benefits of “trips to the dean’s office.”

Holly always assisted him in his behavior modification therapy sessions with the girls. She knew full well what a good attitude adjustment could do. Holly told Missy to have a seat, as Dean Perkins was finishing up some important school business.

“How is he feeling today, Holly?”

“He’s just fine and will talk to you shortly.”

Holly was always amused at the way the girls acted just before meeting her boss. They knew what was coming but hoped against it. She was the same during her student days. To this day, she was thankful for the well-delivered hairbrush strokes Perkins applied during her school days and rarely needed them anymore.

Notwithstanding the fires they lit in her perfectly shaped, yet maturing bottom, Holly knew the point he was making, and it worked, turning her into the well-behaved woman she was now. But even now, when the need occasionally arose because of some minor failing on her part, her boss knew just what to do.

Despite the fact that Holly was no longer a student, and 21 years of age, she still went over the dean’s lap when it was necessary. She never complained, no matter how much her buns would later burn. “Dean Perkins knows what’s best,” she reminded herself. “Hopefully I won’t make these silly mistakes anymore!”

Being the sweet man that he was, he very thoughtfully waited until after school ended for the day and when all were gone, before correcting Holly’s misdeeds. Holly was very appreciative of that, as well as for the fairness for the amount of heat that was to be imparted to her blushing mounds dancing on his lap. The severity of her spankings were always consistent with her level of misbehavior. Despite the smart slaps he always dispensed, Holly bared her firm round bottom for her good-looking boss with mixed emotions.

After each crisp bare bottom, over the knee spanking, either delivered with her smooth mahogany hairbrush, or Perkins’ equally hard hand, Holly cried for a while, did the traditional post spanking dance and fanning of the flames in her bottom, and then always thanked him and kissed him for being so concerned about her development.

Perkins too, showed his concern for Holly by bending her over his desk and kissing both of her hot and quivering ass cheeks, before allowing her to raise her panties and resume her duties.

It took Holly a while to appreciate, but the proper attention applied to a young girl’s bottom went directly to her character building. The stinging pain in her puffy buns helped Holly remember the lesson for several days. He was so good to her!!



Eventually Dean Perkins opened his door and invited the terribly worried Missy inside. All she held was her purse, containing her hairbrush, the white cotton panties and a hanky. He smiled broadly and she almost swooned. He asked her to have a seat on the same wooden chair she had sat in before.

“Missy, I have been very distressed over what Mrs. Williams tells me. No one has the right to break the rules we all live by. You are almost ready to graduate. What shall we do?”

As she sat down on the chair, she pleaded, “I’ll try harder Dean Perkins, I’m very sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“Missy, I have learned over the years, that ‘sorry’ doesn’t cut it. What impresses young people is taking home a hot bottom and the vehicle we use is a smart spanking. That talks to them for a few days, far better than I can.

Also, I do not have the time to take away from my other duties at Middlesex High to continually remind students what to do. Remember the chat we had when you first arrived here? That was your warning. Today will be your first lesson; you do not want a second!”



Missy was terrified. All the schoolyard giggles were starting to make sense. She got the chills and could not stop her tremors, hoping the paddle was not next.

“I see your hair is very well groomed, did you bring your hairbrush today?”

“Ye.. ye.. yes. Why, Dean Perkins?” she was barely able to blurt out.

“Well the paddle is for the boys who need it. I only use it on girls who keep coming back for additional instruction. It is unlikely you will ever taste its hot kisses. Our girls seem to prefer their own hairbrushes.”

“You seem like a bright young lady who will quickly learn what to do at Middlesex. Isn’t that why your mom brought you here?”

“She didn’t say, Dean Perkins.”

“I would normally have the girls’ dean discuss this with you, but she is out this week, and I believe we need to address this right away. You will also feel much better getting this over with today. Don’t you agree it’s better than waiting till next week?”

“I guess so, Mr. Perkins,” she stammered.

“Please ask Holly to come in to assist us. I find it very helpful when she watches our discussion and records your answers. We then have a documented record of exactly what occurred here. Anyone with a need to know can then review it.”

Missy’s face began blushing at the thought of the public record soon to be made. “Maybe it is better to discuss it today, Mr. Perkins,” she offered, hoping to put this day behind her.

“When in here for a hairbrush reminder, you can address me as Dean Perkins, Missy. Mister is for the History classroom.”

“Yes, Dean Perkins.”

With that Missy got up very slowly and walked to the door. “Holly, could you please come in, Dean Perkins needs you for something.” Missy waited by the open door, twisting her hands not knowing what else to do.

Holly smiled and got up. She came into the office and sat on a chair off to the side, facing what she knew to be the spanking chair in front of the desk. She sat with her legs together; her short skirt coming to about mid thigh. Holly was holding the same small book and a pen she had used before. She knew exactly what Mr. Perkins needed her for!

“Missy, will you please close the outer door but leave this one open. Then come back here.”

Missy didn’t know why the inner door was kept open, but didn’t like it. Holly did and Perkins was testing a theory. Holly and her best friend, Julie, the principal’s secretary, always shared the news of who was getting spanked and where.

While Principal Anderson allowed no witnesses when she spanked a student, even the boys, Julie gave Holly the word, and she rounded up about six secretaries, and a few young female teachers. They all huddled outside Miss Anderson’s door listening to the administrative duties being performed by Julie’s boss. They just loved the cries of that day’s miscreant. Often times, when the spankings got really hot, the ladies counted each loud slap doled out.

Perkins, on the other hand, always had Holly in as a witness when he dispensed a spanking, but he suspected the gang was outside, visible to all, as he thought he heard giggling. He would try to pay attention to the hallway, as he directed the rest of his attention to the soon to be dancing bare buns across his knees.

Julie was very jealous of her friend. Holly not only saw the spankings up close, but also got a nice wet poke from the stud of a dean after each one. Maybe Holly could share? Julie only fantasized about that! Maybe she could ask the dean if he needed any help?

Hearing the cracks of a bare bottom spanking was almost as good as watching one, and with Missy, or whoever today’s star was, calling out the count and howling, the wet panty brigade (as the ladies called themselves) were beside themselves. Perkins guessed at that from the smiles Julie gave him whenever he called upon the principal.

Perkins had mixed feeling about the vicarious witnesses. It was good that the word went out that the rumors of spankings were true, but the size of the crowd concerned him. He had planned to talk to Miss Anderson about it. Maybe he could talk to Julie too!

He only hesitated, as the main culprits were their two secretaries; beautiful girls he would hate to see go. Maybe there was another solution?

“Holly, Missy here, has told me she is very sorry for disobeying Mrs. Williams. Will you please record that in your book? It has only been a few weeks since she was verbally instructed on our rules. Today we will try to instruct her in another way. Hopefully she will understand this method better.”

Missy could barely walk, not knowing what “instruction” awaited her. As she came from the inner office door, Mr. Perkins came around his desk, took off his jacket and sat on the same chair Missy had been sitting on, first pulling it to the middle of the room. It was about three feet in front of his desk, with no obstructions on either side, but for Holly, off to his left.

“Missy, please come over here so I can explain something to you.” She stood, still wringing her hands as she faced him. “You will not like what is about to happen, but I can assure you, you will thank me for it later.

Now, take out your hairbrush. We will use it somewhat differently this afternoon. Missy slowly opened the purse and took out the hairbrush. It was a pretty, smooth, oval shaped ivory one with a good handle, popular with the girls. It barely fit into her purse. Realizing the trap she fell into, Missy promised herself she’d bring a smaller one if summoned again to the office “for a talk.”

Bob Perkins had seen these hairbrushes before, and used them frequently. When Missy held the brush, her entire body began trembling. What could he possibly want with that, she thought, trying her best to suppress any idea of what she knew was probably going to happen to her sweet, young, and very tender ass cheeks very shortly.

“Missy, this hairbrush has two purposes. One you know about; keeping your top well groomed. There is another, I believe more important use it has. That is to teach young ladies to follow the rules. For that purpose we use it on your other end. I prefer to use yours, rather than Holly’s. Do you know why?”

Missy, still standing nervously in front of him and chewing on her lower lip, looked to her right at Holly, as if to ask for help. Holly just smiled at her. “Nooo, Mr. Perkins,” she stammered.

“Very simple, Missy. Every morning when you use it on your top, you will remember its other purpose, for your bottom. I find it a useful and daily aid in molding good students here. Are we ready?”

“Yes, Dean Perkins,” she could barely say. If he weren’t so gorgeous, this would be much easier, she thought. It would be much nicer if he were holding her, or dancing with her, or better yet, kissing her, but to be over his lap, was not what she wanted.

“Please hand Holly the brush. We will use it later, but first we have some preliminary matters to discuss.” Missy walked over to where Holly was sitting and very gently outstretched her hand and gave Holly her sturdy oval headed hairbrush, knowing the grooming it was going to do today would not be visible to her friends, other than the puffy and pink eyes she would soon have. Missy then returned to Perkins and he instructed her to stand on his right side, facing Holly.

Having a female witness was legally necessary when punishing a female student, even though the mothers had all signed a “loco parentis” consent form. The school was currently Missy’s “local” parent and could administer reasonable punishment, and having a female school staff person as a witness cut down on spurious allegations from female students unhappy with the state of their bottoms, usually blazing red and throbbing after a ride on the dean’s lap.

As the dean slowly rolled up his right sleeve, he told her, “OK, Missy, you know the position. Your Mom said Dad spanked your buns when you were younger. I am Dad now.”

Missy couldn’t believe this was happening. Closing her eyes in fright, she was frozen to the floor. He could have taken her hand and led her closer to his lap, but having her assume the position herself would add to her indignity.

Missy took in some air, scrunched up her face and slowly approached him. Then all by herself, she leaned across the lap and awaited her chastisement, hoping her short skirt covered up what was important. She hoped it would offer some small protection.

She got comfortably balanced, hands on the floor in front and feet straight out behind her. Her feet were out, rather than on the floor, as Perkins kept his right leg about a foot off to the side. He preferred it this way as he had his target just where he wanted it, front and center, ready for business!

Missy looked right at Holly, who again, smiled back. Missy was instructed to keep her hands on the floor, or the count would start again.

“I will spank you on your panties. I don’t believe in ‘doing it on the bare’ the first time. But if I have to invite you back again, your panties will be around your knees, and you will be very soundly spanked, Young Lady. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Dean Perkins, I appreciate that.”



However, when the short skirt was lifted up and laid on her lower back, they both realized that panties or not, this spanking was going on the bare! Missy couldn’t have gotten a smaller pair. The little triangle at the top was only three inches wide and covered nothing. Then there was a fine black strand of silk almost hidden between the alabaster twins of her lovely and firmly formed butt cheeks, with another tiny piece covering her private parts below. Her beautiful, perfectly round orbs were on total view to a hunk of a strange man staring right down at them.

Missy was bare from the tops of her cotton bobby sox to the black silky string above her waist, claiming to be a panty top. She couldn’t have been more embarrassed. This hurt more than any spanking would, she foolishly thought.

Her twin sparkling ass cheeks began quivering in anticipation of what she had hoped was not going to happen. Two beautifully shaped and trembling milky white globes on display, soon to develop a lovely robust and shinning color. Their creamy sheen would soon be gone, as would the school’s newest behavior problem. At least, that was the plan.

Missy had very little experience with boys, other than groping and kissing. She once saw a girlfriend stroke a boy until he squirted, but she had never touched a man there. Now she felt an enormous log on the lap she was lying over. It throbbed and tried to rise up as her tummy put pressure on it. Dean Perkins was very happy Holly was present as he worried about what course nature would take.

However, being the cool professional he was, he just accepted the rolling young girl on his cock, looked down at the most beautiful teenaged bottom he had ever seen, and got down to business.

“Missy, I hope you realize you brought this upon yourself. You need this spanking as part of your education here at Middlesex High. Are you ready for your attitude adjustment?”

“Yes Dean Perkins. Please be gentle, I haven’t been spanked for a long time.”

“I know Missy, that’s why you are over my lap. It is long overdue.”

Perkins was in no rush. Having her wait, while over his lap with her skirt up, only added to her fears about what was to happen to her cute round bottom. Missy did not want to be spanked, but having her half nude body in his face was no fun either. Knowing the sooner her spanking started, the sooner it would be over; she almost wished he would begin. She also hoped his spanks would not be too hard.

Just lying there with most of her trembling bottom cheeks and thighs exposed was not accomplishing much other than adding to her humiliation. It was also not the position she favored most for having a conversation with the dean. Leaving a wet spot on his pants would be very embarrassing and she hoped that did not happen. After an unnecessarily long wait, Perkins felt it was time to warm her up.

He placed his right palm on her cute quivering globes one at a time, as if to measure the distance. Of all the firm young bottoms he saw in his office, Missy’s was by far the finest; two perfectly shaped spheres, reminding him of ripe melons, already trembling in anticipation. The contact sent tremors through both their bodies; only he did not blush with shame. After a very long, lingering moment he lifted his hand high.

“Are you ready for your spanking, Missy?”

“Ye. ye.. Yes, Dean Perkins,” he barely heard.

With that, the first crisp slap fell on her right cheek. “Ooh!” She spit out; at least it had started.

Then another fell on its beautiful and quaking twin. This one went unanswered as Missy tried to maintain some dignity. Perkins wished she could see the outline of his hand and fingers on her silken young and delightfully firm ass cheeks.

The dean had a steady but very slow cadence. Missy fully felt each hot kiss of his hand before it fell again. It didn’t take the poor girl long to realize this would be a spanking to remember.

Following his usual procedure, Perkins alternated the crisp spanks. Right, left, right, left. First high, then low. A loud “Yoweee” or an “Ahhh” promptly answered each punishing blow. When she could blurt out the plaintiff words, Missy begged the dean to stop her spanking.

“Please Dean Perkins, my tush stings soooo much. I will be very good, puhleese stop spanking my bottom.”

Missy’s tush did more than sting. It felt like she backed into a stove, and the hairbrush part had not even started yet. Would she ever survive this very difficult spanking?

After the first dozen, her entire bottom was pink. The second dozen were also smartly applied and each spank was announced by the poor girl with a gasp or an “Ahhhh” or an occasional “Ouch, that really hurts, Dean Perkins.”

By this time, Missy’s legs were kicking wildly, but far from the furniture.

Missy couldn’t see the bright sheen her twin orbs were developing, but her cries clearly indicated the dean was getting through to her. She kept her head down, counting the fibers on the dean’s rug, but every few spanks she would lift her head to see a smirking Holly.

Having a witness to this humiliation only added to her feelings of discomfort. Holly witnessed two or three such spankings each week. When she later saw those girls in the lunch or rest room, they diverted their eyes, knowing that Holly’s eyes had already seen too much.

“How does that feel, Missy?” the teacher asked.

“It burns Dean Perkins. Can you stop my spanking now? My buns are very sore. I learned my lesson and it won’t happen again,” she said with a distinct quiver in her voice. Then adding, “Can’t you please stop spanking me?”

“Missy, I couldn’t hear you, could you please say that again, a little louder this time?”

When she did repeat that her buns were blazing from the dean’s hard spanking, Perkins’ issue with the hallway girls was confirmed. Their gleeful giggles came right thru the door.

They were creating their own show and would have to be dealt with. How? That was up to the boss.

“Holly, please write that down in your book.”

“Missy, I plan to discuss this matter with you a bit longer to make sure you remember this visit to my office. We have to prepare your naughty bottom for the rest of your spanking. Your cheeks must be tender and tingly to fully welcome your lovely hairbrush. This time I’d like you to call out the next twelve. Can you do that for me?”

“I’ll try, Sir,” Missy squeezed out between sobs as she rolled on the man’s lap, feeling that engorging cock. This was starting to be a very difficult afternoon, and the hairbrush, her hairbrush, had not yet been introduced.

Could her sweet tush take anymore hard slaps? Apparently it was not for her to decide.

To Be Continued…

By Rickey Smarts © 2012