My name is Sam (short for Samantha) and I started work in the local high school, where I used to be a pupil, during the summer of 1981. My job was clerical and I had a small corner office at the top of the new building which overlooked the playground and the old original Victorian school buildings where the senior staff offices were located.

The school was a firm believer in the use of corporal punishment and I was no stranger to the practice. I had been slippered across my panties twice by the previous headmistress; the ‘old witch Brown’ as she was universally known. I had also been over her knee several other times for a hand spanking, which frankly was little better than the slipper.

Miss Brown (name changed) left just before I went to university and was replaced by the current head, Janet Forthergill (name changed). She was there long enough to have me across her knee, once for answering back and twice more for uniform infringements. It was the usual telling-off, invitation to lay over the lap, raising of the pleated green uniform skirt and a couple of dozen firm spanks on the knickers. The last occasion, I was also not wearing uniform knickers so I got extra. I think Brown must have coached Forthergill as her spanks stung just as badly as the old cow’s spankings ever did! That said, I did seem to keep going back for more. Although I didn’t fully appreciate it at the time, I had started to learn to enjoy the experience more than perhaps I should have.

After university, jobs were scarce and I applied for a position at my old school. Having done a joint History and English degree at university, I jumped at the chance when an interview letter arrived. It was very odd being interviewed by my old headmistress, especially when she mentioned she remembered spanking me on several occasions and should I get the job I had better keep to dress regulations. She remembered the knickers after all these years!

Anyhow, I did get the job and started in early August. There were works being carried out on the old building which were due to finish in late September, well after school had returned for the holidays. Fortunately, all the noisy works finished just in time and there were the more aesthetic tasks left to finish after that.

Spankings in school were a fairly common affair as standards were kept very high indeed. Some staff preferred to keep these slightly off-book and administer them after school or in breaks. This was a bit naughty, but the kids preferred this to going to the headmistress. Generally, this would be a trip over the knee and a spanking with the hand only. Occasionally, a slipper would come into the mix, but that was very rare. If they were sent to the headmistress, punishments usually happened at the end of the day, with a bumper session on Fridays. It was always a great way to start the weekend. The pupils would line up and be called in one by one, lectured, bent over or put across the knee, spanked or slippered, cry, be told off again, leave the room, next. It was a little conveyor-like some days, I seem to remember. It mattered little if you were first or last, the spankings were all the same, I found anyway.

During the final works, there was a small accident. Some tools from the scaffolding slipped and damaged the frame of the highest windows in the headmistress’s office, badly cracking the glass, which had always been frosted. The workmen could not get a like-for-like replacement so installed toughened clear glass. The headmistress did not mind as the room was not really overlooked, except for my window, that is!

A couple of weeks later, I was tidying up on Friday afternoon when I realised I could, just, see directly into Fothergill’s office. From my vantage point, I could just about see the whole room and could see her tearing a strip off some unfortunate soul. Been there, done that, got the spanking and then the penny dropped, it was Friday afternoon. The headmistress sat down and the girl proceeded to bend over her lap, head away from the window, bottom towards it. It was Amy from the lower sixth. The headmistress proceeded to spank her firmly with her hand, skirt raised, for what looked like 20 slaps. Amy stood up, rubbed herself vigorously, straightened her clothes and left.

A couple of minutes later, Bekky from the upper sixth came into view. I heard she had been caught smoking at lunchtime. Sure enough, after a lecture, Bekky bent herself over the arm of the headmistress’s easy chair. Once there, her skirt was raised and the unmistakable and unforgettable image of a size 10 plimsoll came into view. Six hearty whacks on her panties, 3 for each buttock, and she was blubbering like a toddler.

How many more girls, I wondered. The answer was, one; Zara from the 5th year. I wondered what she had done. Again, a lecture, the headmistress sat and straightened her skirt before Zara’s bottom hid it from view. This time, the victim’s skirt stayed down. It must be a minor infraction, I thought. The headmistress’s hand cracked down a dozen or more times before she was satisfied that whatever rule had been broken, justice had been fully dispensed. Again, the girl was blubbering and she rubbed her bum as though it were on fire, poor thing.

SP