I went to a boys grammar school in the 1960s, and corporal punishment, while not an everyday occurrence, was regular. You could receive a plimsoll or ruler across the bottom or be spanked with the hand, and our gym master used to have you bend over in just shorts and would flick your bottom with his finger tips. All these punishments were carried out in front of the class. You could also receive lines and detentions. If you were sent to the Headmaster then you would be caned, and with it being in private everybody was very apprehensive about receiving

I would like to recount discipline at the rural school I attended in the early to mid 1960s. Our school was a small two classroom school with 55 pupils in varying ages. We had two schoolmistresses, Miss Harrop and the older Mrs Banning. We also had a Headmaster, Mr Ascombe. The pupils came from outlying farms and a smaller number of us came from the town. My aunt owned a clothes shop catering for women’s and girls’ clothes. Our much liked old headmaster had suddenly retired and we went a few months without one. Discipline had to be quick because it was not possible

I did as I was told with some hesitation. My aunt was poised in her armless chair, and I stared dumbly at her uninviting lap which, upon recollection, conjured up the feelings of dread a dead man walking might have. I knew I was helpless at this point and with the final tug of a zipper my shorts practically dropped to the floor. “Care to tell me why are you being punished today?” “I disobeyed you.” “That’s right. Had you simply misbehaved, you would be at your parents’ mercy, but you chose to disobey me. When I’m watching you, you

The beginning of a marriage. My wife of 8 hours stood in the corner of the hotel room, nose firmly pressed into the corner, the hem of her skirt pinned well-up her back. 1976 and Barbara, at the age of 20, had just been given her third and hardest spanking. This was evidenced by her trembling, from head to toe (her quivering bottom and thighs) the overall red color of her full cheeks, the bruises showing on them and the nasty red covering her upper thighs. As I waited and watched, the bruises took on a deeper red color, a

I have recently returned from a two week holiday in France and whilst there, on the 22nd August, I celebrated my 35th birthday. I was on holiday with my long-term, same-sex partner J. We have been together for eight years, and although we have not entered into a formal civil contract, we consider ourselves to be effectively married, a situation fully supported by our friends and both our families. I teach English at secondary level, whilst J is the headmistress of a local primary school. She is three years older than me and takes a lead role in our relationship as

During a number of private discussions, we’ve noticed that a fair proportion of girls who were slippered at school kept it entirely to themselves and never mentioned it even to their best friends. We’re intrigued as to why this should be. Was it simply embarrassment? Shame? The shock of the punishment? If anyone has a view, especially if you were one of those girls, then please email us your thoughts. Obviously, total confidentiality is assured as with all our contacts. Please email: chasyoung3@yahoo.com    

I am a guy in my mid 50s who was brought up in the 1960s and 70s when corporal punishment was common place and a fairly normal method of dealing with poor behaviour. During my youth my father worked away a lot and my mother was therefore responsible for dealing with my sisters and I on her own for extended periods. Whilst we were not bad children it is fair to say we could be challenging at times, and therefore my mother resorted to what seemed like fairly harsh punishments, but in truth were only ensuring we didn’t stray too

One time, when I was about seven, my older cousin Emma, then eleven, earned herself a spanking. In front of my mother and me, my aunt instructed her to get across her lap. There ensued a teary: “Please, Mommy, can w-we do th-this in my r-room?” but one determined: “No, Emma, we will do it right here,” and my cousin’s hands reached for the hem of her sundress. She raised it and with no further instruction laid herself across my aunt’s lap. Emma looked over at me, blushing to be sure, but with no trace of resentment that I would

I remember my years at primary school in Devon in the 70s and listening to fellow pupils talking about the cane. Both boys and girls were subject to it and on more than one occasion I witnessed a teacher thrash both girls and boys on the bottom in front of the class with a slipper, ruler and a cane. This was done over trousers and skirts but bending over touching toes. There would usually be 4 or 5 strokes at most with the cane or ruler, and possibly double that with a slipper. The sense of fascination and excitement as the

My name is S and I attended school in Glasgow in the 1960s and 1970s. As such it was a fairly common situation to find yourself on the end of the belt for the slightest of misdemeanours. I have several recollections dating back to almost my first days at school but in this memory I would like to cover some events that happened while attending a residential school. I would be lying if I could remember the exact reason or purpose of the three weeks spent in this school on the Ayrshire coast but I suspect it had something to