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. On this occasion, I had a short skirt on which could be flipped back.

She pulled back the skirt to reveal my knicker clad bottom and, knowing the slipper would soon be arriving, I gripped the stool harder. I wasn’t wrong. It slapped into my bottom with a frightening slap. I couldn’t stop myself yelling at its intensity.

After slap two I yelled louder and longer before slap three landed. The fires of hell were now burning in my bum and the tears began. Slap four and I was now getting more distraught, kicking my feet and rolling about on the stool.

Slap five, I could hold on no longer and was up off the stool frantically rubbing at my throbbing bum, before assuming the position once more. I felt totally humiliated now as the skirt went back up once again and Miss H let fly with her slipper. Up off the stool, I shot my hands once again on my knickers and howled like a girl half my age.

Break was nearly over by the time I left, my bottom feeling twice its size and my ego reduced by half.