February 21st, 2013


Regular visitors will know this is a sister website to www.overthedesk.com

As the name suggests, this website aims to offer recollections and memories of spanking and discipline related incidents, whereas the overthedesk site deals mainly with fiction stories that are realistice and may be based on true-life experiences.

We’re always keen to hear from our readers with comments, views and especially any recollections you have of spanking and corporal punishment incidents you’ve witnessed or experienced.

Contact: chasyoung3@yahoo.com


October 13th, 2016

Croatian punishment at home

I am now 60 years old, a man who grew up in a time when parental spanking was usually in my country, Croatia. I remember a lot of my punishments were delivered by my strict mom. Dad did not spank me at all. Mom spanked me always on the bare bottom or on my legs and the palms of my hands. She used many implements; wooden ruler, wooden spoon,, belt and switch. It was forbidden to cry, to move, to cover my bottom with my hands, etc. Before spanking, she lectured me a lot, and after spanking came standing in a corner for one hour. Up until my fifteenth birthday I got thirty strokes and thereafter fifty. I did not have to count.

One summer evening, when I was seventeen, I came home late from a party with my friends and we had been drinking alcohol. Mom asked me where I had been and I lied that I was with my girlfriend.

My mom called her mother and found that I had lied. She noted also that I was drunk. She told me I was going to receive three punishments; a spanking with the wooden spoon for not telling the truth, a spanking with a switch for drinking alcohol and a belt spanking for coming in late.

October 11th, 2016

Schoolboy caning

I was at a church convention in the local town (I grew up in a village). I and a couple of others had gone straight there from school. I came out and headed to the bus stop to head home. I was attacked by two boys in my year, one of whom was in my class. Both were in uniform and there were two others cheering them on. I was knocked to the floor and had my head split open on the corner of the pavement. Naturally I fought back; how can you possibly not in those circumstances, but my main objective was to get away, which eventually I did. I was taken to hospital and received four stitches to my head. I eventually got home and, after explaining what had happened to my parents and given them the names of the boys involved, and then being with them when they called the police, I went to bed.

In the morning, I went to school as usual. In the third period, just before lunch, I was called to see the Headmaster. As I approached his office I saw the four boys who were involved in the assault. I assumed he had learned their names from the police and was going to sort it all out.

October 4th, 2016

Boys and Girls caned

I went to a grammar school in the 1960’s and received my fair share of slipperings and canings. But there is one which sticks in my memory more than the rest and a resultant second caning later.

In my first four years at the school all teachers used the slipper, and the cane was reserved for more serious offences. That changed in my last year when a new headmistress was appointed. She stopped teachers using the slipper and deemed that minor offences would earn a detention and serious offences would be reported to her. More than 3 detentions in a term or 6 in a year would also warrant a visit to her office. She also stopped caning girls on their hands and decreed that all canings would be on the bottom over one item of clothing only.

I was 16 at the time and I finally got caned by her in the second term of my fifth year. Some of the girls challenged me and my friends to a game of strip poker during one lunchtime. We sneaked to a room where we thought we would be safe and the action commenced. We were so engrossed that we failed to hear an approaching teacher. I am not sure who was most shocked, the lady teacher or us, when she opened the door and came across semi naked pupils. She ordered us to get dressed and follow her.

September 15th, 2016

Girls caught fighting and caned

Being caught fighting in the school yard could only lead to one conclusion as myself, my cousin and a more senior girl were soon to find out. I wasn’t in the fight, just trying to help my cousin who was taking a pounding from the bigger girl, but the head didn’t see it that way. I was involved and that was good enough to warrant the cane in her eyes. After a long lecture we were lined up outside her office with our hands on heads, with me last and my cousin second last. Neither of us had been caned before, not at school anyway.

The canings were to be one by one and it didn’t take long for a crowd  to congregate near to her office as we stood there waiting. It was horrendous listening to the proceedings, knowing that I would very soon be the focus of attention and my stomach was tying itself in knots. I already knew the majority of punishments from her were taken touching toes, skirt up and knickers tightly stretched, as opposed to the holding out your hands as happened at many establishments.

Outside the headmistress’s office, it was hard not to hear what was going on inside. I clearly heard the order for the senior girl to touch her toes and, after a short pause, the whistle and crack of the cane. This was followed by the second crack landing. These were received in silence. I was beginning to get the idea this wasn’t too much different to the slipper. After the fourth crack landed to the sound of a light yell, there was a pause and then the girl emerged, tear streaks down her face, and she walked off quickly, though rubbing her sore bottom.

August 21st, 2016

Science and its end results

Having watched a science teacher blow the lid off a tin at school, I decided to replicate the experiment at home. It wasn’t difficult, 1 tin can with lid, some match heads and a heat source known as the gas stove. Now I was set to show my brother Peter how it was done.

Firstly, I dropped a large number of match heads inside the tin and firmly replaced the lid, then I placed the tin over a burner and ignited it. It didn’t take long before there was an almighty bang as the lid took off towards the ceiling and the smell and smoke of used matches spilled into the kitchen. Mum was in like a shot, looked at the pair of and told us to get ready for bed. Going to bed would have been better, getting ready implied she hadn’t finished with us and it wasn’t long before we were back down in our pyjamas. In her hand she had the dreaded hairbrush and I had to remove my pyjama bottoms and bend over her knee for a well deserved good hiding. When she had finished with me my bottom was on fire. I stood there in buckets of tears, rocking and rubbing for all I was worth as Peter went through a similar ordeal across mum’s knee before she sent us to bed.

August 9th, 2016

Domestic spankings

1961, a year I’ll never forget. At the tender age of 11, my mother, a single parent, calmly informed me one Friday night that she was sick of my general attitude and laziness. I had a choice, she said, I either lost my freedom and pocket money until she deemed I was back on track or I could pull down my trousers and pants and bend over the kitchen table to receive a one off short sharp shock treatment.

To cut a long story short, in a show of bravado I opted for the latter, thinking a spanking would soon be over and wouldn’t really hurt. Wrong on both counts!

With my trousers and pants round my ankles, bent over the table, my hands gripping the sides, my cheeks tensed in anticipation…

Crack! A howl left my lips and my eyes flooded with tears, rapidly followed by a succession of stinging blows. So much for my cocky assumption that this was an easy way out.

“I hope you’ve learned something,” she said, and sent me up to my room.

Nothing more was said until the following Friday morning, just as I was about to leave for school, when I was informed that she was still not satisfied and I was to present myself for further punishment that night at 7.30. This was obviously in my mind all day but if I am truthfully honest a little bit of me was looking forward to my ordeal.

July 31st, 2016

Gap Year – a new ebook by Bella Bryce


A second book in the Walden School series

Samantha Holloway is one of the few teenagers who knows of Walden School and wants nothing to do with it, but Walden has ties with Cheswick Ladies Football Club and Sam wants everything to do with CLFC. Sam lives and breathes the game, and sometimes football is the only breath she has left in her. Coach Wiley knows that, which is why she pushes Sam to attend the Walden girls’ football trials. When originally Sam thought boarding at Walden would be a serious inconvenience on her personal freedom, Walden may just end up being the place that saves her from hopelessness.

Aficionados of football and character-driven boarding school stories will enjoy following the process to get to Walden and becoming part of its system. Meet the prefects, who run the school, and the seniors – who wish they did. Follow juniors through their first term and Sam, who hates posh schools but needs Walden more than she realises.

Available from: Amazon UK:  please click here

Or from Amazon USA:  please click here

Or from Amazon Germany:  please click here

Or from Blushing Books:  please click here

Visit Bella’s own website: please click here


July 30th, 2016

Biology Class Experience

As a fourth year, it was a girls only Biology class with Miss H whose speciality was dissecting all manner of things. We had already had dead mice and frogs and today it was to be bull’s eyes. With a couple of the girls already being sick in the sinks, my mouth, I’m sorry to say, got the better of me so much so that I had to report back at break time. It did have the desired effect and shut me up for the rest of the lesson.

At break time, I reported back guessing what she had in mind for me as I and a number of girls had been there before. Miss H had a teenage family of her own and made full use of her training when it came to discipline at home, so she kept telling us. As expected, her own stool, which stood taller than ours, was in position awaiting my arrival, as was a slipper which was resting on her table. She never minced her words and with ‘immature’ and ‘grow up’ ringing in my ears I removed my blazer and positioned myself over the stool.

I knew I had only myself to blame and from previous experience knew this lady could seriously sting a girls bottom. This time I had a short skirt which could be flipped back.

July 19th, 2016

School strapping and caning

I am 39 now. However, when I was 10 my then boyfriend and I went truant. Yes, we got caught. I remember going into the headmaster’s study. Oh boy! A strap and a cane lay across the desk. Pete had been here before. He had to step forward and bend over. Trousers were removed and four strokes with the strap planted. Then the headmaster swished the cane. He told Pete to drop pants and bend over the desk. Six of the best stripes appeared across his bare backside.

Pete stood up with tears running. He did not know whether to cover front or back. The headmaster then gave a lecture. He let me leave my butt tingling as I thought I too would get it. But I didn’t.


July 17th, 2016

Annie’s School Slippering

The biology and science labs were one and the same and served a dual roll. It was my third year when Susan and I fell foul of Miss H******ton-H**per who we knew as Miss H.

An igniter for use with a bunsen burner had been left out; it was an opportunity not to be missed. Could you light the gas from the gas taps that were built into the benches? The answer was ‘Yes’ as we were soon to find out. Unfortunately the flame didn’t go unseen by a livid Miss H.

“You two, see me after class!” Was her reaction.

It was too late to regret our actions and as the other girls departed she moved her stool to the front of the class. Susan was the first to be invited to bend over it. Her skirt was folded back and that was all I could really see. What I did see was the slipper raised high only to descend rapidly to the area where her bottom would be. I might not be able to see much, but I could hear Susan’s howls of disapproval, for Miss H had a powerful arm when applying the slipper.

After six mighty slaps the slipper had done it’s job and Susan raised herself from the stool, tears streaming down her face, and I was invited to take her place. I bent over the stool, took hold of the legs and waited for the ritual to begin.