Andrew dropped to her skinny little knees to beg for mercy, but Mrs. Weaver slapped her on the cheek. “Take her to the principal!”
What happened next was a blur, but the next thing she knew Andrew was standing in the school auditorium in front of a room so full that students were sitting in the aisles, straining to get a better look.
Lindsey, the girl who gave her the cigarette, was the first to get punished. She managed to get off lightly with only a spanking with the vice-principal’s bare hand. She pulled her diaper back up over her red bottom and sniffled for the rest of the ceremony.
“A school such as ours,” declared the principal, “…is faced with extraordinary problems. That is why we use extraordinary punishments. Long live the High!”
The auditorium boomed. “Long live!” Andrew was frightened, but her teacher-guards shoved her back into place.
“Mrs. Weaver, take your seat.”
Mrs. Weaver looked calm, but she was wearing her best teaching clothes that day. She eagerly helped Andrew lay across her knees.
“Now, stay still…”
“No! I don’t want to!” She struggled but the teachers held her down.
“Lemme go! Lemme go!” She was in tears even before they lifted her skirt and plunged the needle into her backside.
“Thirty blows,” said the principal. “Begin!”
Whack! Mrs. Weaver brought her thick palm down hard on Andrew’s backside. Andrew squealed, and she felt the formula activating in her circulatory system. Her body was buzzing like a cloud of gnats. Another whack on the bottom quickly distracted her.
“I’m sorry!” she sobbed. “I’m sorry!”
Again and again Mrs. Weaver spanked Andrew’s bare bottom, and blow after blow Andrew grew smaller and smaller. Her pathetic cries for mercy turned into squeaks of pain. Soon she was too short to reach all the way across Mrs. Weaver’s knees. Her arms and legs were like quivering toothpicks. Her clothes fell off, leaving a squirming, little girl only a foot tall. Still, Mrs. Weaver kept spanking, and the shrinking continued.
“27…28…29...” The last one was so hard that Andrew couldn’t see straight. “30!”
All that was left of Andrew was a tiny pink doll, curled up in the folds of Mrs. Weaver’s skirt, squeaking and quivering in fear. She did not resist the giant hand that picked her up and showed her to the assembled students.
“The suspended student is now remanded to Mrs. Quincy’s kindergarten class to serve the remainder of her life as a classroom pet. The students are dismissed.”