I arrived at Natasha’s and she explained, “We have a conference with your school principal.” As she drove to a nearby suburb, she pondered, “I hope you’re not in trouble for something.” I figured I definitely was and tried to imagine the pretext the principal would use. Her friend introduced herself as Principal Wacker and I had to suppress a giggle. She led us to a spare room that seemed to serve as her home office. She motioned to two chairs that faced her desk and perched herself on the edge of the desk itself.

“We’ve started a new practice here, where written exams, term papers and essays are run through a software service to detect submissions that are either plagiarized or generated by AI. Young man, your recent history paper was not your own work, was it?”

I shook my head, “No ma’am.”

“Can you explain yourself?” she asked.

“I ran out of time and…” I stammered.

“Shame on you,” Natasha scolded, “You’re so gonna get it when we get home.”

“Oh, he’s gonna get it sooner than that,” Ms Wacker replied. She turned to me and asked, “Do you know what the penalty for honor code violations is at this school?” Again, I shook my head. “I bet you’ve heard from your classmates that visits to my office for disciplinary action usually conclude with swats from my friend ‘Buster’” She opened a drawer and removed a wooden paddle. A pattern of holes was bored through the large contact zone that she tapped against her open hand. “Rule breakers like yourself get their bare bottoms paddled,” she added, looking directly at me. She turned her head towards Natasha, “His bottom is going to be plenty sore after I’m done with him but you’re more than welcome to add your own finale at home.”

She looked at me for a long moment and then said, “Ok, let’s get this done. Stand up. Both of you, please.” She moved the chairs back from the desk and ordered, “Face the desk, drop your pants and underwear and bend over. “You should stand there,” she said to Natasha, pointing to a spot behind and to my right. “You’ll have the best view from there.”

“You’re due ten. I want you to count them,” Ms Wacker said, tapping the paddle against my bare cheeks. “Hold onto the opposite side of the desk. Don’t let go or the swat doesn’t count.”

I grasped the edge of the desk and waited only briefly before I heard a loud crack and then felt a searing pain. “One,” I yelped.

My cheeks were becoming numb by the tenth and then Ms Wacker surprised Natasha and me both, “Ok, trade places.” Natasha looked authentically surprised. “You’re responsible for his behavior and are due a paddling of your own,” Ms Wacker explained. We slowly exchanged positions and I began to pull-up my boxers. “Leave it,” Ms Wacker ordered. Natasha approached the desk, hiked up her skirt and lowered her panties. I watched in awe as the paddle was forcefully applied to Natasha’s round bottom. By the fifth swat, bruises were emerging on Natasha’s sit spots and I was fully stiff.

The drive back to Natasha’s began quietly but then she offered, “Well that was unexpected.” That began a detailed conversation about our respective experiences and the lingering sensations.

At a pause in the dialogue, I offered, “I have a somewhat awkward request.” I explained my wish and she looked at me with a salacious grin and nodded her acquiescence. She led the way into the house and then into her living room. Again she bared her bottom and this time bent over the arm of her sofa. I quickly liberated my already tumescent member and began to stroke. Quite soon, I approached apex and then released a generous load onto Natasha’s bruised ass. She moaned in response and her right hand came back to smear the rivulets across her inflamed skin. I knelt and kissed her left side, licking my juice from her contused cheek. We both rose and she wiped a glob from my chin and licked her finger.

“You’ve given me some interesting aunt/nephew dynamics to consider for the future,” she quipped, tapping my rapidly relaxing cock with her finger.