From a girl who grew up in the 1950s/1960s and attended a private girls school.

Further to my previous memory regarding the three spankings and a detention, I was asked whether I had any other experience of Miss Roberts’ slipper, and in fact I had, previously in the fourth form when she was our Form Mistress. Whilst spanking in her class was not a daily occurrence, you could expect that some poor girl’s bottom would be subject to the dreaded slipper at least once a week.

The most common reason involved homework, either the doing of it or failing to bring it in. I was caught on that one in a period when I was becoming somewhat pre-occupied with a certain fifth former in the nearby boys’ school, a symptom of which was forgetfulness with regards to school homework.

I didn’t consider it a big deal, really, as the penalty was three whacks, and my bottom was experienced enough to take that. So, I headed out to the front of the class, pulled my skirt up, and bent over the ‘spanking desk’, or rather the spare desk at the front used specifically for that purpose. It afforded an excellent position for the punishment to be received and gave the whole class a good view of proceedings. I took my three wallops pretty well, yelping slightly on the third, and returned to my desk with just one tear rolling down my cheek.

The second spanking was a good deal more serious. I was in an altogether stroppy mood that day, and when Miss Roberts decided to keep picking on me with questions I couldn’t answer and then informed me I had to do my homework again, I swore at her under my breath. She heard, of course, and hauled me out to the front of the class.

She was quite angry and gave me a real dressing down, and then said that she really ought to send me to the Headmistress. That would have meant the slipper at least and a note home to my parents, and then Mum would need to have a little ‘chat’ with me in my room with my pyjama trousers down at my ankles.

Fortunately, the Headmistress was away on a course that week. Well, I say fortunately because Miss Roberts decided she would teach me the lesson I deserved, six really hard whacks with the slipper which had me crying out by the end, a wobbly walk back to my desk because my bottom was so sore, and sobbing until the end of the class.

At the end of the lesson, I did the big thing and went up to her and properly apologised. I had to admit I had been a real brat and thoroughly deserved that punishment. Miss Roberts said I had been lucky the Headmistress was away, leaving me wondering what Miss Roberts would have wanted her to do to me.

A bit tricky trying not to wince as I sat at the dinner table that evening, hoping no one would notice. I had already surveyed the damage when I changed; my bottom was all sorts of colours and still very sore. I was a bit lucky because Mum started to come in while I was inspecting it in the mirror, but she changed her mind. I chose not to remonstrate with her for not knocking!

JTo