I was 16 years old, late in my sophomore year of high school. It was the early 1990s. I went to a school that paddled fairly regularly – not at the drop of a hat, and only the vice-principal or principal could decide you had earned one, but it wasn’t super rare either.
Under normal circumstances, girls were actually paddled by a female gym teacher, boys usually by the vice-principal. This wasn’t an official rule though, just a general policy – one that I found out, painfully, wasn’t beyond being bent or broken if need be.
I was young, and felt very much like attracting the attention of as many young men as I could. On occasion, I took to not wearing a bra with shirts that definitely needed one. This was a definite violation of the school dress code, but I got away with it three or four times. Then one day…I didn’t.