Katia and the cheerleader

“Tut, tut, tut,” Katia said, leaning a shoulder against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, one foot resting on its toes as she crossed her legs as well. Shaven hair on one side, tattooed arms, always in jeans and revendicative tee-shirts, the tall, slender girl was the resident rebel of the high school’s seniors.

The one she was tutting at, a blond, toned yet curvy girl in her tight long-sleeved numbered shirt, was one of the cheerleaders. Her name was Claire, and she nervously looked up at Katia.

“What do you want?” she barked, one arm behind her back.

“That’s a filthy habit, you know?” the punkette answered with a nudge of her head towards the cheerleader. She smiled.

“Wh… what is?” she said, unable to control her blushing.

“What you’re hiding behind your back… You know?”

“What do you care,” she said, defiant, as she brought her hand to the fore, still holding a half-smoked cigarette.

“I don’t,” Katia said with a smile, “but the Principal might. You know the rules, don’t you? He wouldn’t be pleased…”

Their school, or rather, their private institute was indeed famous for its strict, some said antiquated rules. Corporal punishments were still frequent, administered in public on Friday afternoons in front of the whole school in congress. Katia herself was well aware of it, having been on that stand more times than she cared for, her panties pulled down to her knees, her bottom paddled mercilessly by the principal in front of her mocking classmates. Where it not for the riches of her parents, she would have been expelled a long time ago.

“Since when do you care about the rules?” Claire said with a sneer, “Aren’t you an anarchist or something?” The disdain was evident in her eyes. She laughed and lit her cigarette back.

Katia got off the wall and walked towards her, grabbing the smoking stub out of the blonde’s mouth.

“What’s your problem!?” Claire yelled, her hands grabbing for it, “Let me be you dumb bitch…”

“Oh I’m the dumb bitch, huh?” the tall girl said, holding the cigarette away from her counterpart. “Fine, I’ll just go see what the Principal has to say about it…”

“Stop it! He wouldn’t believe you anyway!” Claire said, enraged, “And I’ll tell him you were the one smoking!”

“Oh yeah…” Katia held the cigarette butt before her, “not with all that red lipstick on it, honey…” She grinned.

“You…” Claire started, “What do you want?”

“I’m pretty sure the punishment for smoking is at least thirty swats with the paddle… I think it’s been a while since one of you pom-poms were punished, hasn’t it?”

Claire kept silent, glaring at her.

“Think of all the guys just dying to see that…”

Claire tightened her jaw. “Again, what do you want?” she muttered.

“Well,” Katia said with a wide smile, “If you let me spank you here and now, I will spare you the public humiliation… I know what it’s like, and you wouldn’t like it…”

The cheerleader frowned, “That’s a joke, right?”

“Nope. Either I spank you right now or you can take your chances with the principal…”

Claire looked down at the floor, nervously playing with her hair as she pondered the dilemma. She knew the school’s staff was uncompromising on smoking. One of her classmates had had to bring a cushion to class for a few days just two weeks earlier, and had been mocked mercilessly by some other pupils. As a cheerleader, she would be a prime target for teasing and humiliation.

On the other hand… She wasn’t about to let some… Wannabe rebel spank her! No, she wouldn’t.

“Tic-toc, princess,” Katia said mockingly.

“I… What proof do I have that you won’t go to the Principal anyway?”

“You don’t have any, but I’ll give it back to you as soon as I’m done with your butt, no pun intended…” she answered;

Claire rolled her eyes. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

“You don’t, you’ll have to trust me!”

The cheerleader fell silent again and Katia held up her right hand.

“You might think that I don’t respect anything but my word is sacred,” she said, suddenly very serious.

Claire fixed the floor, blushing. She chewed her lip, hesitating, thinking. “All right,” she murmured, finally.

“What was that?”

“I said all right!” the young blonde said, her anger flaring up again, “Do what you must, you… pervert… and be done with it!” She couldn’t believe what she was about to let that… that… that stupid bitch do to her, but she knew it couldn’t possibly hurt as bad as the paddle, and she would do practically anything to spare herself the public humiliation and the stain on her perfect record. What’s more, smoking could eventually cost her her place on the team, as cheerleaders were to be paragons of the school’s alumni. The Principal could very well decide that her smoking was giving too bad an example to her fellow students.

Mortified, she followed Katia to a flight of stairs on which the punkette sat down, and she came to lie across her knees. She was angry, angry at Katia for taking advantage of the situation, angry at the school for its stupid rules, angry at her parents for putting her in it and signing off on corporal punishment. It dawned on her that that was probably what Katia felt like on a daily basis. Then, ultimately, she was angry at herself for being so stupid, for smoking, and for having gotten caught. She was lost in her anger when the first slap came, snapping her out of it. She howled.

Katia didn’t give her a chance to say a thing and hammered her victim’s bottom with large, powerful slaps, already enjoying the bounce and jiggle of that firm, round bottom. She spanked left and right, never relenting, building up the heat in Claire’s behind right away, giving her no rest in between hard spanks.

The cheerleader was restless, turning and squirming over her lap, trying to escape the slaps as they rained down on her cheeks. Her cries of pain were quickly turning into pitiful mewling, her anger gone and replaced with pain, shame and fear. It returned quickly when Katia declared “Take your shorts down.”

That was a bridge too far, and she started yelling at her, calling her all the expletives she knew, promising vengeance. Katia silenced her with a series of hard, wrathful slaps.

“You agreed to my terms,” she warned, “You’re getting punished as I see fit, or you won’t get the cigarette back.”

“That’s blackmail!” Claire said, tears starting to roll off her cheeks.

“Yup,” Katia grinned, “Now take off your shorts.”

Anger deforming her beautiful face, Claire got up and pulled her pair of jean shorts all the way to her knees, stomping her feet, her face nearly as red as her already well punished bottom. She got back over Katia’s lap, trembling.

“I hate you…” she said between her gritted teeth.

“Believe me, I’m doing you a favour,” she answered.

Claire scoffed and stayed silent.

“Now, what did you call me a minute ago?” Katia said with a menacing grin, and as Claire’s eyes opened in fear, the rain of spanks started anew, her light, white panties little barrier against the punkette’s fury. She slapped, and spanked, and whacked, and smacked, punishing blow after punishing blow, turning the cheerleader’s bottom a cherry red in mere minutes. Grabbing her knickers, she pulled them down swiftly, ignoring any protestation. A proper spanking was on the bare, everyone knew that.

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Katia was jubilating, ecstatic. She had always dreamed of bringing one of the haughty cheerleaders down a peg, and now she was fulfilling two fantasies in one. As the heat spread to the blonde’s bottom and thighs, so it did between her own legs, bringing her pangs of frustration when she couldn’t pleasure herself right there, right then. She caught a glimpse of the cheerleader’s intimacy. It was glistening. She felt a sudden rise of desire and bit her lip. That delicious, bouncy, red, round bottom…

She kept spanking it with abandon, her hand burning with pain, her arm tiring with the constant effort. Claire was crying, bawling, pleading until at last she stopped. With a final hard slap she announced “Done!” and let the sobbing cheerleader get up, rubbing her bottom.

Katia took the half-smoked cigarette and offered it to her.

“There, I’ll keep my word.” Claire snatched it and threw it to the ground, flattening it with the sole of her Converse shoe. She pulled her shorts back up with a wince, she large, swollen bottom struggling to fit, much to the delight of her onlooking tormentor. She sat down on the stairs with a grimace of pain and wrapped her arms around her knees. Katia laid back a little.

“I hate you,” the cheerleader said matter-of-factly, her head resting on her knees, tears still wet on her face.

“I know,” Katia answered with a shrug. She looked down, softly rubbing her thighs together, sending waves of guilty pleasure up her core. There was a long silence.

“Thank you…” Claire finally said. She looked the other way, half angry, half relieved that it was over. Katia looked at her in surprise.

“You’re… Welcome?” she said, unsure what to say.

“I…” A pause, “If I ever need to be motivated…” She was still looking away, not daring to look at the other girl’s dark shadowed eyes.

And Katia smiled, a genuine, happy smile that hadn’t grazed her lips in a long while.