Coach Brings Back the Paddle

by Tone <Y_ogi@hotmail.com>

Although in former years the paddle as a means of discipline had often been used at Harrisford High School, it's use had been banned by the school board about ten years ago. Most teachers soon discarded or put away their paddles, but no Coach Brown, who coached football and taught PE classes. He left it hanging on the wall in his locker room office as a reminder to him of days in which students with no respect could have it "drilled" into them.

One day after school when the football players were changing for practice, Coach Brown had left the door to his office open and overheard two seniors, JJ Johnson and Tom Forth, talking about the paddle.

"Do you think Coach ever used that thing?" JJ asked Tom.

"My uncle told me that when he went to Harrisford, Coach still used the paddle. He managed to avoid ever having it used on him, but he remembers the coach making even the toughest guys cry if he wanted to. "

"Cry? Really? I think he was putting you on, man. I mean, either of us could take licks no problem."

"You think so, Johnson?", Coach called out, causing the boys to jump; they hadn't realized he was able to hear them. "Why don't we see if you still think so after you bend over my desk for a swat or two?"

"Real funny, Coach", JJ laughed. "But I think I'll pass. Not that I couldn't take it though." With that, he and Tom jogged out of the locker room to the practice field. As they left, Coach Brown heard them joking about the conversation.

Brown shook his head. That Johnson kid was a great player, but with his _c_o_c_k_y attitude he could stand a few lessons applied to the seat of his pants. ********************************************************************************

Later that night Coach Brown was watching TV at his home, which was right across from the school, when he though he heard a noise from out in the woods behind his house. He had a rather extensive stretch of property, and he often invited people over for cookouts; on occasion, he threw after game parties for his team both to celebrate and keep them from going to parties where alcohol or even drugs might be present. Occasionally some students would sneak into the woods to hang out and he'd have to go chase them off.

Sighing, he got up, put on his shoes and grabbed a flashlight. When he got to the path leading to the clearing where he had cookouts, he turned off the flashlight so as not to warn anyone who might be there. Reaching the clearing, he turned on his flashlight and saw, to his surprise, the two players he had joked with in the locker room earlier.

"All right, you two", he said, "why don't you just go on home. It's getting late, and I'm not in the mood to stay up and babysit..." His voice trailed off as he noticed what that each player had a can of Budweiser in his hand, with the remaining four of a six pack on the ground between them. Instantly, he changed from being mildly annoyed to furious.

"WHAT DO YOU TWO THINK YOU ARE DOING! You signed the contract that said no alcohol during the season, ever. You could get suspended from playing, as well as get in trouble with the law. You two come with me to the house while I call the cops and your parents!"

"Aw Coach," said JJ, "do you have to do that? It's just beer..."

"Just Beer?!!" the Coach yelled. "Alcohol is alcohol, and it's illegal to drink it until you're 21. Underage drinking is a serious offense."

"Can't you just make us do extra laps at practice or something Coach," Tom asked. "Please don't call the cops. My parents will _s_h_i_t_!"

"Watch your language, boy!", Brown snapped. "If you don't want the cops involved, I'll be willing to give you one other option: Walk across the street to the locker room right now and see if you can take the paddle as well as you thought you could this afternoon."

"That's all we gotta do, Coach", JJ said, incredulous. "Let you whack us a couple times and you'll drop the whole thing?"

"You're right that you'd be taking the option that's better for you in the long run, but don't think it'll be easy. These aren't going to be love taps if you agree to the swats. So what is it? Are you coming with me or do I call the cops."

"That's no contest. I'll take the swats." said JJ, and Tom agreed too, although a little more reluctantly.

********************************************************************************

10 minutes later, the three of them were in the locker room via the door nearest the playfield, which Brown had a key to. "All right boys. There's six beers in a six-pack, and I'll be giving you one swat for each. While I get the paddle, I want the two of you to strip your shirts off and change into the team shorts we use for running laps and exercises. Those jeans are much too thick!"

JJ and Tom stared at him for a second before going to their lockers and changing into the shorts. As he went into his office and grabbed the paddle off the hook, Brown heard JJ bet Tom five bucks that he'd be able to take the swats without crying. Brown shook his head; JJ really needed to be brought down a peg or two. He was going to make _d_a_m_n_ sure that JJ lost that bet.

After the two had changed and met him in his office, he told Tom to bend over and brace himself against the desk, and JJ to stand off to one side. Getting into position behing Tom, Brown rubbed the paddle against his ass and said "Count aloud."

WHACK! Brown hit Tom hard, but not nearly as hard as he was capable of. Still, Tom gasped before calling out one. WHACK! WHACK! After three, Brown saw that Tom had tears in his eyes, and he was barely able to call out the numbers. WHACK! WHACK! The next two caused Tom to start crying silently; out of the corner of his eye Brown saw JJ smirking because his friend had started crying. He delivered the last swat, causing Tom to begin openly sobbing. He ordered out of position, and he immediately moved over to one of the walls, sank down, and buried his head in his arms to hide his tears.

"Over and brace yourself Johnson!" Brown barked. JJ smirked, which angered Brown even more, but not nearly as much as what JJ did next. He lowered his shorts, stepped out of them, stood there wearing only his BVD's and said "I can take anything you dish out Coach! I don't even need these shorts". Then with one last smirk he leaned over and braced himself against the desk.

Brown was enraged at the arrogance of this young punk. He was forced to admit that he had a challenge ahead of him though. Johnson was the biggest guy on the team, and built like an ox. But there was no way he was going to let this punk get the better of him, and that meant he had to reduce him to tears.

Swinging back the paddle, he brought it down hard against Johnson's brief-covered ass. The young football player barely flinched and called out "ONE!". WHACK! WHACK! The next two swats left not much more impression, and the boy called out two and three in a still-_c_o_c_k_y voice.

For the fourth swat, Brown pulled back and swung with almost full strength, causing the boy to grunt and move forward before calling out four in a voice that wasn't quite as _c_o_c_k_y, but nowhere near trembling with the threat of tears. Even more determined to make an impression, the older man took a step back so that he could step into the fifth swat, and swung with all the power he could manage. This time JJ grunted loudly, and gasped twice while trying to say "five". Jumping in before JJ could catch his breath fully, Brown said "I told you to count aloud, Johnson! Since you didn't we're going to have to repeat this swat!"

The boy jumped up and said, "But Coach!..."

Brown cut him off saying, "I didn't tell you to get up yet. That's worth one extra swat!"

"Coach, that's not fair", the boy said.

"If you don't bend back down, I'll make it two extra!" Brown thundered. Reluctantly, the boy turned around and got into position. Stepping back again, the coach delivered another resounding swat. This time Johnson shouted out five immediately.

WHACK! The sixth swat caused Johnson to groan, and when he called six the older man could tell he was close to tears.

WHAAAAACCCCKKK!! The coach impressed even himself with the seventh swat. From, the corner Tom had stopped crying and was staring wide eyed at his friend who was dancing, grabbing his ass and sobbing, making no attempt to hide it.

Brown replaced the paddle and turned to the boys: "Get dressed and get out! And I had better never catch you with beer again!" The boys shuffled quietly out of the room and got dressed, wincing as they pulled out their pants. As they pushed open the door and left the locker room, Brown called after them: "Hey Johnson--make sure you give Tom those five dollars you owe him!"


More stories by Tone