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: kennywalters@hotmail.com
It was the summer between the end of my first year and second year at university. Like most students, I had been to Magaluf in July where my friend Donna from my course and I had enjoyed the experience to the full. I worked part-time in a local pub. Nowadays, I suppose, it would be classed as a gastropub. No heavy drinking, just couples and families having a meal out in an informal pub setting. I generally worked a couple of evenings and Sunday lunchtime. The pay was poor, but if you gave good service and a cheery smile, the tips were very good indeed. Back
I opened the front door as I came in from school. Being 14 at the time, I had my own key, unlike my sister April who was aged 10 or 11 and was collected by mum from school. I opened the door and was about to shout, ‘I’m home mum’ when I heard a raised voice. Mum. “How could you? Mrs Davies of all people. She’s so lovely. I am very, very disappointed with you, April,” Mum scolded. It sounded like they were in the kitchen. “But mum, I didn’t!” April was whining. “Honestly!” “Balderdash! No one else would have put it there,” Mum continued.
During teacher training, I was not allowed to use corporal punishment on the pupils. Instead, I had to send or take miscreants to the headmistress. One particular day, at the end of the last lesson with the fifth form, a girl called Georgie had been in a mood all lesson. Just before the end, someone said something to her I did not catch, but it resulted in a volley of very unladylike expletives coming from her mouth. “Stay behind at the end of the lesson, Georgie. You and I are going to see the headmistress,” I said calmly. “That’s not fair, she
One day during the summer holidays my sister decided to dye her hair. Nowadays, teenagers with brightly coloured hair are a common sight, but back in the seventies it was practically unheard of. The only people one ever saw with coloured hair were pop stars and clowns. Rebecca had watched a TV show set in space in the future with her current boyfriend. He had made several comments about the attractiveness of one of the characters who had bright red hair, not as in ginger but actually bright red, and Rebecca thought it would be a good idea to impress
My sister and I had sneaked into an orchard near where we lived with the idea of stealing a few ripe-looking peaches. Then we heard someone shout, “Stop!” I called to my sister to run for it “Don’t even think of scarpering, you two,” a voice shouted. “I know exactly who you are, and I know your grandma!” “What shall we do?” asked my sister, April, clearly scared and regretting trespassing in the orchard. I pointed out it was her that had wanted the peaches, and that it was probably her bright yellow dress that gave us away. I quickly realised
In my sister’s final year at school, she took part in a foreign exchange trip organised by the school. Our village had recently been twinned with a similarly sized village in Northern France. A group of girls from our school were to spend a week staying with the families of the French students, who would in turn be staying in their homes. Rebecca would be staying with the family of a girl named Simone, and Simone would be staying with us. Although organised by the school, no one would be expected to attend lessons which had nothing to do with
My sister Alison was at a sleepover down the road at her friend Rose’s house, along with their friend Maggie. It was a Friday night and the girls had a film to watch and loads of sweets. Rose’s big brother Bill, who was in my class, recounted this story to me the very next day. I just wish I had been there to see what unfolded. What big brother wouldn’t? Mum and I were having a quiet evening as Alison took her sleeping bag, change of clothes, and a bag of goodies down the road to Rose’s house. Mum watched attentively through the net curtains
It was the final week of our last term at junior school before we all moved up to the high school in the nearby town. We were both excited and worried about transitioning from being big fish in a small pond to very small fish in a huge pond at the new school. Life was now marking time before the summer holidays, and five of us were playing rounders during afternoon break. Well, one batting, one bowling, and three chasing the ball. As it was unlikely anyone would be caught, it was strictly 6 balls and then all moved round. The person
It was Thursday. The school never had parents evenings on a Friday when we girls would have the weekend to recover from our punishments. The teachers liked to see us on Friday morning, to see the effect their words had on us as we sat fidgeting uncomfortably on the hard wooden chairs. “Well Harriet, I don’t suppose you’re looking forward to this evening.” She said it with a smile, but I could not be sure if this was by way of sympathy or whether she was enjoying my discomfort. “No Miss,” I replied quietly, my head bowed to avoid eye contact.
At the girls’ school I attended from age eleven, corporal punishment was a regular occurrence, but back at primary school, spankings were rare and when they happened they were big news. Only the headmaster ever spanked the pupils, with a female teacher present if the pupil was a girl, and although very few children ever experienced it, it was an accepted fact that when he spanked he spanked extremely hard. So I was understandably nervous on the one occasion I found myself outside his office, my destiny unknown. I was seven or eight years old and sitting at a table