This memory follows on very closely from the last one, when I was 15. In fact, at the beginning of this story my bum was probably still bearing the marks of the spanking I received that day.

Being brought home by the police had the unexpected and undeserved consequence that for a while I had a reputation as a ‘bad girl’. Real ‘bad girls’ wanted to be my friend and boys were suddenly more interested in me. I didn’t want to be friends with the bad girls, I got enough spankings already, but I admit I quite enjoyed getting attention from the boys.

One of them, a 5th year boy called David, had just had his sixteenth birthday and had got a moped which he had started to come to school on. He had started to take an interest in me as soon as word got around that I had been taken home in a police car and asked me if I would like to go for a ride on the back of his bike. I agreed that he could give me a ride home from school. I had never been on a motorbike before and was quite excited at the prospect. I knew that my parents would not approve as they didn’t like me doing anything dangerous, but I thought as long as he dropped me off round the corner from my house, they need never know.

At 4 o’clock I met him outside school and he took me to see his bike. I had literally no knowledge of motorbikes and knew even less about the laws concerning them, so I had no idea that it was illegal for him to have a passenger on a provisional licence or for me to ride without a crash helmet. I got on the seat behind him with my arms around his waist and off we went.

Although we weren’t going very fast, I was thrilled to get my first experience of being a ‘biker chick’.

Unfortunately, however, before we had gone very far we passed a police car parked at the side of the road and the driver clocked us and immediately came in pursuit. When David saw the blue flashing lights and realised that we were being pulled over, he sped up and tried to outrun them, but of course, although it looked like a real motorbike, David’s machine was only 50cc and wasn’t really capable of more than 30mph, so the police car had no trouble keeping up.

When he realised this, David’s next attempt to get away was to take a sharp left turn into a side street, hoping that he could lose them in the maze of the estate it led into.

Unfortunately, I was not expecting this and as he swung the bike round the corner, I was thrown off the back onto the road where I skidded across the tarmac on my bum and the heels of my hands.

David, realising that I had fallen off, looked behind him to see what had happened to me and because he wasn’t looking where he was going the bike hit the kerb and he too was thrown off.

Of course, that was the end of the car chase. The police arrested David and called an ambulance and I was taken to hospital.

The police, once they knew who I was, contacted my mum and she rang Dad at work and before long they were both at the hospital. Mum was in a terrible state having been told that I had been in a motorbike accident. I think she expected me to be in a coma with my skull smashed in.

When they saw me and saw that I was mostly ok, I saw the expressions on Mum’s face go from fear to relief and then to fury that I had been so reckless and put her through so much worry.

The doctor told my mum that my injuries were not serious. My hands and my bum had been badly grazed, and I had a few other bumps and bruises. All he could advise was that I should have soothing cream applied to the grazes. He said that I would be ok but that my bottom would probably be very sore for a few days.

“Oh yes, you can be sure of that,” my mum told him.

I didn’t get a spanking when I got home because I had a pain killing injection at the hospital and Mum wanted to wait for it to wear off. Dad came into my bedroom the next morning and I got a long hard slippering. I was given the day off school, though.

Poor David, although the police decided to merely caution him, was held solely responsible for the incident by the school and was given six of the best with the cane by the Headmaster. Also, his parents sold the moped because he had been irresponsible with it. He and I never really spoke to each other again afterwards. It was a long time before I dared get on a motorbike again.