Month: July 2012

Readers,


Here is another fine entry to the Brief Encounter writing contest. There’s a whole lotta spanking going on at the ‘Ft.Worth Central Railroad Station’!


– Dana

I am a 58 year old retired elementary school principal and the mother of two grown children.  At five foot ten inches and 145 pounds I have a firm and well toned body thanks to my many trips to the gym.  My husband passed away three years ago and our two children have careers that made it necessary for them to locate out of state.  I decided that I needed new goals and one of these was to run a marathon.  


My primary running route took me by the abandoned Ft. Worth Central Railroad Station.  In 1945 it peaked with almost 700,000 passengers.  By 1979 usage had declined to 32,000 and it was closed and abandoned in 1988.  Today as I jog by this beautiful example of architecture I can’t help but think about how many lives and stories this structure touched.  


College students from near by Texas Christian University have staged wild parties inside the station.  I have even seen some of my former students sneaking in.  One of these, Jeremy, had even found himself face down across my lap more than once for a sound paddling.  


I explored the station myself and found beautiful wooden benches,  marble walls,  tile floors, and chairs that were once in the waiting rooms of some of the offices.  


I have lived in the same old historic home that I raised my family in for over 30 years.  It is located close to the station and T.C.U.  In fact there is both a fraternity and sorority house on my block.  


While jogging through the neighborhood I began to notice a pattern for the parties at the station. Boys from the fraternity house joined the sorority girls every other Saturday night.  And Jeremy was always there.  There were many nooks where I could hide.  One Saturday evening I hid in an alcove where the benches and chairs were in full view.  The older boys arrived first bringing kegs of beer followed by upper class boys and girls neatly dressed and some carrying paddles.  Paddling as part of official hazing has become illegal and antiquated; but, off campus paddle parties by members are common.  Before Jeremy started crying (I’ll explain that later) he told me that pledges to be paddled and members to be punished for demerits were instructed to wear tight jeans.  


The night I hid three boys and four girls were to be paddled.  The first two boys were pledges.  They grabbed their ankles while Jeremy laid on ten pops to each pledge.  You could hear the echo throughout the huge station.  Both boys had red faces and unhappy expressions when he was finished.   The third boy was there for punishment and he was to receive 25 pops from a senior sorority sister who was on the tennis team.  He had made unwanted sexual advances to a sorority sister.  He was forced to bend over the bench while two sisters held his arms rendering them helpless.  The tennis star was over six feet tall and had a beautiful figure and well muscled arms.  To my shock she unbuckled his jeans and lowered them to his knees along with his briefs exposing his naked bottom.  Now both his arms and legs were pinned.   The muscular sister gave this helpless man the most wicked paddling I had ever seen.   I am an expert spanker and my boys and students were very unhappy little boys long before they were left off of my lap: but, this athletic girl shifted her weight into every one of his 25 spanks.  His bottom turned red and then purple and blue.  When she was finished and he was released he laid limp over the bench.  The four girl pledges each received 10 swats from senior girls as they bent over the bench next to each other.  Ten different sisters went down the line giving each pledge a swat.  The pledges had trouble staying in place and let out yelps after every spank.  


Finally back to Jeremy.   I think that he found himself draped over my lap more than my own sons.  The school board policy only allowed five swats but I would have liked to double that at times for Jeremy.  I know he didn’t like it when he was over my knee and I always made sure he was well paddled; but, he kept coming back for more.  I think some boys need a firm woman’s hand.  


One of the activities the boy’s at the  fraternity would had were scavenger hunts.   And one of the items on the list was a pair of panties.  (Jeremy also revealed this to me before he started crying)  I happened to look out of my kitchen window and saw Jeremy steal a bra and my red panties off of my clothesline.  I was both furious and amused.  He knew I lived here.  This was the same behavior that would earn him a trip over my knee 15 years ago.  The next day I called the fraternity house and demanded to speak with Jeremy.  I told him that I expected him to meet me at the station at 6:00 sharp and that he was to bring my bra and be wearing my red panties.   I found my old paddle that I hadn’t used on my boys for over 15 years.   It was identical to the paddle I used at school.   I arrived at the station dressed in a black silk knee length skirt,  black stockings,  and a white blouse.   I wanted to make sure Jeremy knew it was a woman administering his paddling.  When Jeremy arrived I informed him that I was going to paddle my panties as I took the paddle out of my bag.  Jeremy complained that he was wearing them.  As I pulled out a straight backed chair and sit with the paddle on my lap I explained that since he was wearing them he would be paddled too.  And that when I was finished his bottom would be the same color as my red panties.   I ordered Jeremy to my right side lowered his pants to his knees exposing my red panties as I pulled him across my nylon clad lap.  


The first spank landed across the middle of my red panties.  Upon questioning he gave me all of the details of the paddle parties and scavenger hunt while  I continued to paddle my red panties.  By the 5th spank he was in tears and unable to explain any more.  He hadn’t been across my nylon stockinged lap in 15 years.  I was determined that this would be a spanking he would never forget.  50 spanks later his bottom was the same color as my red panties and he was bawling, kicking, begging, and pleading.  The spanks echoed throughout the station but no one but Jeremy and me could hear them- or so I thought.  the entire sorority had hid inside and were  viewing his paddling.  When he was let off of my lap the girls came out laughing as Jeremy danced, hopped, and cried as he rubbed his red bottom-  or was that my panties?