I was 8 or 9 years old, and our class in a mixed junior school was evenly split 12boys/12 girls. Handy for things like dancing lessons which we had to do, unless someone was absent, of course. Our teacher, Miss A, was a pretty, probably early 30s lady, blond hair, slim with a kind smile. She could, however, be a strict teacher when her mind was set.

In the summer term, we had a student teacher, Miss P, a tall, slightly chubby lady, if I remember correctly, but she was very good at games and also read stories wonderfully at the end of the day.

One afternoon, Miss A received a note from the headmistress asking her to pop and see her. She told us in no uncertain terms that we had to be on our best behaviour for Miss P. A couple of previous occasions, we had been noisy and the teacher next door had to come and shout at us to be quiet, which upset Miss P quite a bit. All was fine for the first 5 minutes. We were doing maths and were doing some sums from the black board. Then Jake’s hand shot up and he had a grin on his face.

“Yes Jake?” asked Miss Peat. “Do you have a problem?”

“Yes Miss. Why do I have to sit next to a stinky girl, Miss? She smells of soap and disinfectant, Miss,” Jake said, trying to sound serious.

“Be quiet, Jake. You will sit where you are and get on with your work!” Miss P instructed.

“Miss!” 4 or 5 boys all piped up at the same time. “He’s right, they smell, pooooo!” one of them said.

“All of you, be quiet!” bellowed Miss Peat, almost pleading.

Sensing her discomfort, some of the girls now started shouting things like, “Paul smells like a farmyard,” and, “Peter just smells, Miss.”

By now, it was getting out of control. To add to the problems, Mrs C, from the class next door, had her class in the hall for PE, so there was no rescue on its way for Miss P. The noise was getting louder and more out of control by the second.

“Silence! At once!” screamed Miss A at the top of her voice, which was loud, believe me. Silence was restored in a millisecond, and poor Miss P just stood there.

Miss A whispered something to her which sounded like, “You have to keep control. You have a mouth, use it! If that does not work, well, that is what God gave us a lap for.”

Then Miss turned to the class and said, “Miss P and I are just stepping outside for a moment. One peep out of anyone, anyone, and they will be straight to see the head teacher! Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss,” 24 voices said dejectedly as the two adults left the class.

The silence was almost unbearable. What were they discussing, we all wondered?

A moment or two later, they both came back in and, to our surprise, Miss P took the lead, looking like she had been told off herself and was not happy about it either!

“Class, you have all been very naughty, and very disruptive. Miss A and I are very disappointed with your behaviour today and feel the whole class needs to be taught a lesson and be punished,” she stated.

“Miss,” Daisy interjected. “Miss, I didn’t do anything, Miss. Why should I be punished?”

“Everyone will be treated the same,” Miss P continued. “Those not directly involved certainly did nothing to quieten the others, so are as guilty.” She looked us all in the face with angry, steely eyes. “One by one, you will bend over one of our laps and receive 6 smacks on the bottom as a reminder as to why you are here; to learn, not to cause trouble.”

There were mutterings, the odd sharp intake of breath, but mainly just a stunned silence. That had certainly fixed our attention!

“Boys, you line up over there, girls over here, in silence. Anyone that speaks will get their bottom spanked and sent to the back of the line for a second go!” Miss P added.

Silently, 2 queues of 12 slowly formed. No one wanted to be at the front and to be spanked first. Neither did they want to be at the back and be last. The two teachers took a chair each and put them down at the head of one of the queues and silently sat down. Miss P was at the head of the girls’ queue, Miss Adams the boys. Annabell and Mark were first.

“Come here and bend over my knee,” both teachers said, almost in time with each other. Miss A pulled Mark’s trousers down and Miss P pulled Annabell’s pinafore dress up, so both were to be spanked over their underwear. This would be hilarious if it were just them, but we all realised we were going to suffer the same humiliation.

The teachers looked at each other, Miss A nodded, and both began to spank the upturned bottom which lay over their lap. Six firm smacks landed, three on each side. The teachers kept pace with each other. If anything, Miss P sounded like she was smacking the hardest, and Annabell was crying by the 3rd spank. Mark was red in the face, but did not cry.

Both stood up and rubbed their bottoms. Mark struggled to do that and pull his trousers back up, while Annabell did so with her hands under her dress.

The next eight were all firmly spanked and all rubbed their bottoms and all were teary-eyed.

Now it was my turn. Miss A pulled my trousers down and nearly took my underwear too. Opposite, Maisie’s dress was flipped up. I decided to concentrate on her spanking rather than my own. I thought it might help. It didn’t.

I know Miss P was good at sports. I suspect she played tennis, judging by the hand-eye coordination as she spanked Maisie and her muscular arm muscles. Meanwhile, Miss A spanked me. She had spanked me a few times during the year, but never 6 spanks and never quite so hard either. By the sixth, I was on the verge of crying, but made sure I did not. I did not rub myself either. I tried to look like I was made of sturdier stuff, but my red face and red eyes told otherwise.

Maisie cried, hopped and rubbed her panties vigorously as she held her skirt up whilst she did so.

I went to the back of the queue and only then gave myself the relief of a quick rub as I pretended to tuck my shirt back in. While I did so, the rhythmical smacking resumed, and those who already had sore backsides could watch without peril, unlike those still to go. Eventually, the last two kids bent over, trousers down, dress up, and six smacks as firm as on the first bottoms were delivered. With that, the class spanking was over.

“Right class,” said Miss A. “Let that be a lesson to all of you. Miss P will be very willing to gain more practice on anyone who acts up in her classes again. Isn’t that correct, Miss P?”

“Indeed it is, Miss A. In fact, I am half-minded to give the boy who started it all, Jake, a second spanking. However, I am placing you on notice, Jake. Any more of your antics and it will be the slipper for you, not just a hand spanking. Understood?” she barked.

“Yes Miss, sorry Miss,” was all Jake could say, somewhat demoralised.

After that, we were much better behaved with Miss P. Jake did mess about occasionally, and did end up over her knee, trousers down and a worn plimsoll applied six times to his bottom. He cried for ages afterwards. Miss A just looked on, approvingly.