Peter Brady - Cheerleader Sponsor

As Peter Brady sat at his desk at the Lewiston Academy for Young Ladies, outside of Boston, the young, handsome American literature teacher wondered how he had managed to get himself into this situation. The Headmistress had just recently appointed him, after he had volunteered for the position, as cheerleader sponsor at the school. It seems the former one had developed a nervous anxiety syndrome, and could no longer tolerate the demands of being in charge of such a group of vivacious, young ladies. However, Peter, even while growing up in the Brady household, had always dreamed of having a close association with cheerleaders. He had so admired his sisters, dressed in their miniskirts, on the way to games, that his dad had even had to warn him on several occasions. Indeed, Peter probably could have received an athletic scholarship to many universities, if he had concentrated more on what was happening in the game, instead of watching the girls on the sideline, performing all their “delicate” maneuvers.

Now that he had secured the position, as he studied the list of members of the squad, Peter began having some trepidations. There was Becca, a bright, young lady, who delighted in engaging in “fun” activities, and could always be counted on to be present at a social gathering. Monica was another talented girl, but she was a little bit on the sneaky side, and took great pleasure at withholding information as long as possible. Ashley was the nice one of the group; she was always obedient, and willing to work hard on the task at hand; her main problem was that she had fantasies about going with “sports entertainers”, as she called them. Valerie was the “loose” one of the group, or so Peter had heard that from other sources. She evidently was a little hard of hearing also, as she was always playing her stereo loudly enough to be heard all over the dorm, particularly the music of a certain group of brothers, whom she idolized. Aimee was the intellectual one of the group; she was very good at coming up with ideas (schemes, some teachers called them) and then getting the others to carry them out. Aimee had hardly ever been into trouble, not because she hadn’t been naughty, but because she was smart enough to not get caught. Rachel was the one with the overly active imagination; she had an almost gothic quality about her, and really delighted in dreaming up completely “weird” ideas.

Yes, Peter thought to himself, as he surveyed the list, quite a collection of young ladies here; he had taught all of them, and knew their strengths (and weaknesses) well. Then, there was the last one, the head cheerleader, Katja. “Oh, my goodness,” Peter said out loud; this was certainly the talkative, outgoing female type, if ever he had seen one. Katja was quite pretty, and Peter had to admit, she could shake a mean pompom, but she was a handful in class. He had had to discipline her before, for just her antics in the classroom, and he could only imagine in his mind what would take place on those trips back to the school after a road game. But, he told himself, he had asked for this position, and there were lots of benefits to be gained from it. He might as well make the best of it.

Yes, Peter’s fears did prove correct. On a later day, as the girls were getting ready to attend the game, Katja had called a meeting. The upcoming volleyball match was with Lewiston’s hated rival, the Concord School of Girls. This rivalry had been going on for close to fifty years now, and for both teams, this game would be the one that decided if the season was a success or not. Katja had decided that the cheerleaders should come up with some special “presentation” for this important meeting, and wanted the other girls’ inputs on this. Ashley immediately suggested that there be a “bra and panties” match with the other cheerleaders, but Aimee wisely pointed out that they might lose this, and that would not be good. Ashley’s alternative idea that the Lewiston girls go and bodyslam the Concord girls was also vetoed, mainly by Becca, who pointed out that their strength was intellectual, not physical. Monica insisted that whatever plan the girls come up with, they not reveal it ahead of time; in fact, she even wanted a two part plan of some type, with the spectators being held in suspense for the second part. Valerie felt they should go full speed ahead; she usually leaped before looking, and she loved action; she also wanted to show a music video while the game was going on to distract the other team. Rachel came up with the idea of kidnapping the Concord cheerleaders, and holding them in a basement somewhere, while doing all sorts of vile things to their bodies; it was a typical Rachel idea. Aimee suggested that the girls do a dramatic presentation, in between sets, offering a parody of the Concord school. Becca wanted to throw a huge party BEFORE the game, and get the opponents all tired and/or hungover, but was overruled when it was pointed out that Lewiston would also be that way, particularly if Smirnoff ices were smuggled into the party. She then said, “Whatever, let’s at least have a party afterwards.” This idea, all the girls agreed was a good one.

Katja, up until Aimee’s and Becca’s suggestions, had listened politely (she was ALWAYS polite, after all), but uninterestingly. She loved the idea of a play, as she fancied herself as a director in her after school career. This was enhanced because Aimee had mentioned it could be musical in nature. Katja loved to sing, almost more than anything else. She wasn’t a big fan of sports entertainment, other than a certain general manager. She wasn’t patient either, and hated having to wait for the ending, or next part, as it were. The idea of kidnapping the Concord cheerleaders did appeal to her, but not holding them in a basement; she had nightmares too easily. The other thing that Katja really, really LOVED was partying. She was the original party animal, and even Peter knew that! So, she was very enthusiastic about Becca’s idea for the party afterwards. This sounded like a great opportunity for her, to be a leader, and to have fun.

Thus, as Peter sat in his study, he had no earthly idea what these lovely girls were planning. If he had, his hair would probably have straightened out (gasp). When this game did take place, Peter would indeed wish he probably hadn’t been so eager to volunteer for the position. Certainly he would have some explaining to do with the Headmistress, and from that, the girls would have some explaining to do with him.

Jamie couldn't believe her bad luck; here she was, a thirteen year old at the Lewiston Academy for Young Ladies, in the most serious trouble of her young life, up to this point. And to make matters even worse, she was in trouble with Mr. Brady, whom she practically idolized. As her teacher, in a special honors class at the school, for English drama, she felt extremely fortunate in having him for a teacher. Since he was the varsity cheerleader sponsor also, Jamie had gotten to know the older girls quite well; this was an extra benefit for her, as one of her many aspirations was to wave her cute little pompoms in front of a cheering crowd eventually.

Little did Jamie know that the other girls on the varsity team, particularly Katja and Valerie, had grown jealous of the time she was getting to spend with Mr. Brady. They too had designs on him, for their future, and not just with their pompoms either; and this little
munchkin was getting in their way. As always, when the girls had a problem, they discussed it amongst themselves, and, as usual, Aimee, the intelligent one, had an answer, so it seemed. The girls all thought Jamie needed to be taught a lesson, and rapidly; they even put off their planning for the "special" activities in store for the big rivalry game which was approaching.

Jamie, on this fateful morning, had no idea what was about to happen to her, as she approached the classroom to hear the wonderful Mr. Brady impart his words of wisdom on her ears. As she was walking to the classroom, Katja beckoned her over to the side, telling her she had urgent information about an upcoming cheerleading practice.
Jamie foolishly followed Katja into the restroom, eager to hear this latest piece of news, and even more foolishly (she was rather absent minded, it seemed), left her book bag lying outside by the door.
While Katja was relating some fictional account to Jamie inside, Valerie was making additions to her book bag outside, that would be revealed later to be highly unflattering. Jamie left the restroom momentarily, thrilled over the latest piece of gossip Katja had given
her about Aimee; it seemed that Aimee was planning to put their big rival into an alternate universe on an internet site, one in which mutants were the norm. Yes, this was looking to be a very exciting week to her, as business was bound to pick up afterwards.

As Jamie entered the classroom, she didn't seem to notice her bookbag seemed fatter than usual. She took her normal seat, on the front row naturally, right in front of Mr. Brady; that way he couldn't help but notice her. Peter came into the room, and signalled the girls to
quieten down, and get ready for the day's lesson. Jamie eagerly began getting out her paper to take notes on, but today they all fell out on the floor. As she leaned down to pick them up, she let out a shriek, as did Susie and Lynda, who were sitting next to her. In
fact, their shrieks were loud enough to gain Peter's attention, and he came over to see what the commotion was.

When Peter saw what was on the floor, he froze. There was a full length, NUDE picture of HIM, staring up at him. Underneath it, in flowery computer printing, was "I love this man soooooooo, soooooooo much; his face, his hair, his chest, his legs, ALL of his body!!!
Jamie" And there was an arrow pointing to a particular part of Peter's anatomy, which was very obvious in this particular pose. Peter couldn't believe his eyes! Although he certainly knew this was NOT him (he would never in a million years pose like that), he did
recognize an internet doctored photo. And, now that he thought about it, he had noticed Jamie paying an inordinate amount of attention to him, it seemed. Whatever, this could not, and would not, be tolerated. Jamie simply wanted to die from embarrassment, and wished the floor would open up and let her fall through the earth, all the way to China.

The other girls, crowding around the desk and seeing the "revealing" photo of Mr. Brady, which came from her notebook, began oohing and aahing, secretly wishing they had one of these pics alsoPeter saw that he was rapidly losing control of the class, and wouldn't be able to teach very much English drama today, unless something were done, and done right away. He made his decision, and told everyone to return to their seats. He then spoke directly to Jamie; "Young lady, what do you have to say for yourself? How dare you have such an awful photo in your possession?"

Jamie stammered out, "But...but, honest, Mr. Brady; I...I wouldn't ever, EVER do anything like...like this. Why, you're too fine a man to...". Jamie stopped suddenly, realizing what she was saying, and that this wasn't helping her case any. She tried a new tactic. "I didn't make this, Mr. Brady. I mean... how could I have gotten a picture of you, like... like this? I've never even been to your dorm room." (A true statement, by the way).

Peter replied, "Well, I never said you made a picture of me like this, Jamie. I know full well that there are internet sites, which 13-year-olds are NOT allowed to be on, incidentally, where you can see such photos; and it's relatively simple to superimpose another image onto one of them, especially for someone as talented as you. What I can't understand is WHY in the world would you want to carry this around in your books? Jamie, I'm really disappointed in you."

Jamie was crushed when she heard her idol, Mr. Brady, say this to her. She began crying big crocidile tears, and sobbing, looking up at him with her pretty blue eyes; her body was shaking, as she tossed her blonde hair about. "Please, Mr. Brady; I...I'm... I'm sorry; I
mean I didn't do nothing. You gotta believe me; I... I don't know anything about this."

"Sorry Jamie, but I'm afraid I can't believe you on this one; and you can save your tears for later, because you're going to need all of them in a little while young lady!" Peter got up, and pulled a chair out into the middle of the room, motioning Jamie to come up to it. As she did so, he went over to the closet, and took his paddle out of it. "Now, Jamie, your rear end is going to be on fire, by the time I'm finished using this on it," Peter said, as he brandished the paddle through the air. "Bend over the chair, and grab the legs in front. And don't you DARE move, girl!!"

Sobbing, Jamie did as she was told. Peter then flipped her skirt up in back, onto her back, revealing her plump, bikini clad bottom. He smiled wryly as he pulled the panties down to below her knees, and stood back out of the way, so all the other girls could witness her
bared bottom. He then preseed the paddle against her cheeks, and began striking them, with a lot of force. Yes, he intended to teach this little brat a hot, painful lesson.
WHAAAAACCCKKKK!
WWHHHHAAACCCKKK!!!
WWHHHAAAACCKKKK!!!
WWWWHHHAAACCKKK!!!
WWWHHHAAAAACCKKK!!!

This went on for a full thirteen licks, one for each year of young Jamie's life. By the time Peter finished, her buns were well done, to say the list. In fact, they would have probably popped popcorn, with all the heat they were giving off. Jamie was miserable, not only at having been paddled so severely by her favorite teacher, but suffering this horrible punishment in front of all her friends. She doubted if she would ever sit down again, and was sure she couldn't bear to look at any of the girls. And... gasp... she thought about all the older girls, the real cheerleaders. How could she ever show her face to any of them again, knowing that they would know what had happened to her.

Suddenly, Jamie realized. She did NOT have that photo of Mr. Brady earlier in the morning. She was certain of that!! Someone must have planted it on her, framing her to cause this paddling. But who would have done such a thing to sweet, little innocent her??? Who, as Jamie tenderly sat back down at her desk, rubbing her sore bottom.

Peter Brady sat in his office, eyeing the two pretty young cheerleaders sitting across from his desk, Katja and Valerie, wondereing whatever had possessed him to accept the position of cheerleader sponsor at Lewiston Academy. As he ran his hand through his thick, curly, black hair, he was convinced that if something were not done soon, this hair would soon be turning gray, if not loose. He hadn't realized the power of jealousy in girls; even though he found it flattering, because he was the object of it, the destructive effects were quite apparent, and he HAD to do something about this, quickly.

Peter thought back a few days ago, when he had paddled, rather severely, 13-yr-old Jamie, a jr. varsity cheerleader. Katja and Valerie were both varsity ones, with Katja being the captain of the team. Jamie had come into his honors British Drama class, and accidentally spilled the contents of her bookbag onto the floor. Among those contents was a rather "revealing" photo of Peter, which put the entire class in a minor uproar. In order to restore order to the class, Peter immediately blamed Jamie for this unflattering,
disrespectful photo, and paddled her bare bottom with a great deal of force. He incorrectly had assumed that she had created this photo off of the internet, and dealt out punishment, without first looking into all the circumstances.

Later that same day, Jamie's loyal roommates, Amy and Christa, had tearfully come to him, saying that it wasn't Jamie's doing. When they convinced him that Jamie could barely even type a Word document, much less do the complex activities this "doctored" photo required, Peter decided to look more into the matter. After all, Jamie had insisted to him, even after the paddling, that she knew nothing of this photo beforehand.

Earlier today, Becca, another of the varsity cheerleaders, had come to him with an incredible story of what had really happened, one that Katja and Valerie had just verified as being true. Becca had said this was their idea, because they were jealous of Jamie for getting so much of Mr. Brady's attention and time. It seemed Becca, who was very much a fun loving person, couldn't find enjoyment in life with the guilty conscience she was carrying around with her, and thought confession would be cleansing for the soul. She so, so much wanted to have fun again. Well, after she had cleansed her soul, Peter fired up her fanny, to make sure this "warm" feeling continued to indwell her; after all, Becca had waited a few days before her confession.

Peter was very sorry about the painful experience that Jamie's bottom had suffered the few days before, but he realized that she was more of a brat than the normal girl at school, and probably had that coming sooner or later anyhow. He had noted that her behavior had improved greatly since then, and she was sitting much stiller at her desk. As for Katja and Valerie, once he had confirmed what Becca had told him, he would certainly give them his
undivided attention, up close and personal, for an extended period of time.
Now, the matter at hand.

"Katja and Valerie, I am very, very disappointed with both of you girls," Peter began lecturing. "Doing somehting like this to a younger girl just isn't like either of you. You two are supposed to be setting an example for other students, and the one you've sat isn't a very good one. Therefore, I'm going to have to set my own example of you, and it's NOT going to be a pleasant one, I assure you. First of all, that photo of me is totally,
absoulutely unacceptable and your bottoms will be punished for that. Secondly, what you've done to Jamie is also going to result in your bottoms suffering. Thirdly, I'm even considering suspending you both from the cheerleader squad. Now do you have anything to say for yourself, ladies?"

Valerie spoke up first. "Please, Mr. Brady, we're sorry. I know this was a rotten trick to play, but, well... we just like you so much, and you weren't around for us. That pic was awful, I know. I'm SO sorry for it. And we should be punished, I guess. But not anything that mean. Don't suspend us, Mr. Brady. We're....we're a TEAM, and we need to stay that way for the glory of dear old Lewiston." Valerie was near tears, as she pled and begged with Peter to not punish them.

Katja piped in and said, "Yes, Mr. Brady, we're wrong, we'll admit it. But it was all Aimee's idea to doctor the photograph, honest. Why, I'd never go to sites like that, you MUST know. And Jamie was getting too, too big for her britches, even you'll have to admit. She needed to be taken down a peg or two. But yes, we were wrong, and should be punished." Katja couldn't believe her ears hearing her saying that last sentence, as she had experienced Mr. Brady's punishments before, and they were NOT pleasant.

"Well, those might be your arguments, girls, but they don't carry any weight with me, I'll tell you. You're both going to be punished, and punished harshly. But I will let you remain on the Team, this time; just be warned, that more than one slip up, and you're off the Team, perhaps for good." Peter got up and walked towards the door, saying "Now which one of you wants to go first?"

Valerie timidly raised her hand, and Peter, noticing it, said, "Fine. Katja, you may go outside in the hallway and sit in the chair. I suggest you enjoy your sitting, as you might not be doing that much more for awhile." Katja, beginning to cry also, got up and unsteadily walked out of the office, already rubbing her bottom. Peter then turned and glared at
Valerie."All right, Miss, I think you know the drill. Assume the position, please," Peter told Valerie, as he walked over to the closet, and took his large, oaken paddle out. Valerie gasped, as she saw the board, a 30" x 3" x 1" oar shaped, dark brown paddle, with 12 holes drilled into it. "NOW, Girl!," Peter snapped at her, bringing Val back to reality. She went to the side of the desk, bent across it as far as she could extend her arms, her long,
blonde hair falling down to around her sides. "Feet apart, Valerie," Peter instructed, while walking over to her side. He then flipped her short cheerleader skirt up out of the way, and stood back, looking at her cute, little butt wiggling underneath the tights she was wearing. Sighing, Peter slowly pulled the panties down to around her knees, and Valerie began
crying.

Peter then pressed the paddle against Val's bare bottom, and rubbed it for a moment, taking his time. He knew this drawing out of the process would increase her agony greatly. "All right, Valerie, now you know why you're being paddled, don't you?" Valerie glumly shook her head yes. "Well, I'm certainly going to paddle your posterior in a most positively, painful way, little girl. Get ready to suffer!"

Peter drew the paddle back, and slammed it down full force on Val's unprotected butt, driving it deep into the flesh. The blow nearly took her breath away, and began her crying in earnest. Val stomped her feet on the floor, and as the paddle left, a bright red imprint showed across both cheeks. Katja, hearing the explosive impact sitting out in the hallway,
jumped, and almost had to leave to go to the bathroom. Why hadn't she volunteered to go first, and get this over with?

CCCCCCCCCCRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!
KAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!!!!
SSSSSSSSMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
SSSSSSSSSSSLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMM!!!!
SSSSSSSSPPPPPPPPPPPLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAATTTTT!!!!
KKKKKRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSHHHHHHHH!!!!

This continued until Peter had given Valerie 24 extremely powerful licks across her fannie. He gave her 16 (her age) for her part in the photograph, plus 8 additional ones for having framed Jamie. By the time the paddling was finished, Val's hair was completely messed up, her makeup completely ruined and her eyes pretty much dried of tears. Indeed there was a puddle of water on the floor from her crying. Katja, on the outside, listening to the powerful blows, and Val's accompanying crys of agony, had made a pool of tears herself.

When Peter had finished, Valerie's bottom looked like a bright, bright red tomato, with dark spots all over it. It was as hot as a Houston afternoon in August (personal note, that's REAL hot), and bouncing around all over the place. Those dark spots were going to become bruises very soon, which would make sitting next to impossible for Valerie the next several days; or at least extremely painful. Peter stood back for a moment, observing his handiwork, and hoping she had learned her lesson. Then came the order Valerie longed to hear. "All right, Valerie, you may leave and go back to your room now. I certainly hope you have learned a valuable lesson, girl!" Val immediately got up and ran out of the room, not even bothering to retrieve her panties, which had fallen off into the floor. She had one idea in mind, that being to stand her blazing bottom underneath a cold shower, hopefully cooling it off somewhat. She almost knocked Katja, who had stood up when she heard the door opening, down in her haste to get out of there."Well, Katja, are you ready; I hope you enjoyed all the 'sound effects' just concluded, but now you're going to have some tactile experiences also. Come right in, young lady, and assume your position, please."

Katja tearfully walked over to the desk, her eyes on the large paddle on top of it, and her
hands covering her bottom. As she bent over, her short skirt slid up in back, revealing her plump, panty-clad bottom. Her short, curly, dark brown hair was sticking to her face, because of the tears she had been crying while waiting outside.

Peter also asked her if she knew why she was being punished. "Y..Yes S..Sir, be..because I...I," Katja was almost stuttering due to her crying, "got another girl into... trouble and... and I used a.. a naughty picture of ...y..you to do that." She then began just bawling with dread of what was about to be, and shame from what already was.

Peter, approving of this answer, again raised the big paddle and began pounding Katja's posterior with it, using all his force on her upturned fanny. These licks really connected, and caused Katja immense suffering, as well as spreading lots of "warmth" all throughout her body, from that central location. BTW, he did lower her panties also before commencing the crashing connections.

CCCCCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHH!!!
SSSSSSSSSSSSSPPPPPPPPPPLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTT!!!
SSSSSSSSLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!
KKKKKKAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!!!
SSSSSSSSSMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSHHHHHH!!!

Peter gave Katja 28 licks in all; sixteen to match her age, for the photograph, and 12 for her part in framing Jamie, since she was more actively involved, and she was the captain of the team. Whenever he finished, Katja literally wasn't able to stand up, and support herself for a little while, because of the intense pain her bottom was enduring. She had certainly been set on fire all over her backside, and it would now match the "tanning" she had over the other parts of her body. The heat was enough to melt butter, it seemed, and very large, blackish bruise were already appearing on her butt. Katja was going to be sleeping on her tummy for a long time it seemed, if she slept any at all. Peter was pretty amazed any girl could have that many tears. Finally, he helped Katja back to the dorm; as she walked stiffly, the pain subsided somewhat, but was still overbearing. Katja wobbled back into her room, fell face first down onto her bed, and cried herself to sleep.

Peter again walked back to his office, satisfied that he had handled the problems at hand well. He was convinced that the older girls would no longer pick on the younger ones, the younger ones were on their best behavior, and all seemed well in Lewiston land. Little did he know what the future held for him. If he did, he would have left immediately for the
sanctity of Mike and Carol, even agreeing to continue living by their rules.

to be continued. if not, you know who to blame. robbie