I attended a small private prep school just out side London. I won’t mention the name as it still exists in the same large house and nearby sports field with pavilions.

My first memory of corporal punishment there was in my first or second year when a female teacher took me into a small changing room, sat on a stool and pulled me over her lap to spank me. I don’t remember what for, or any other detail except laying over her lap and having my bottom smacked.

As I moved up in the school, I knew that the headmaster and deputy head slippered boys but I didn’t experience that for a few years. However, teachers would punish boys a lot, and often in the classroom. We would be called to the front of the class where we bent over their desk with our bottom facing the boys in the class, and they would lift up our shorts as high up our leg as they could and slap as much bare skin as they could uncover. The more loose your shorts, the higher up they could expose, so your lower buttock and upper thigh could be smacked very painfully. They would then do the same on the other side.

I remember getting quite a few of these classroom spankings and hating the loud smacking of my buttock being the centre of attention, then having to face the class as I went back to my desk.

I remember in gym being taken into a shed where the equipment was kept, by a teacher with 3 other boys. We had all been fighting. One by one we were called to bend over and put our hands on a box of cricket equipment while he pulled our shorts right up to expose our buttock and smacked it very hard. I remember counting nearly 20 smacks on one side and then knew I would be getting the same when he pulled my shorts up and uncovered the other side. We watched each other have our buttock completely exposed and turned from white to red.

Then came my first slippering. Everybody knew the slipper was given on the bare bottom. It was a harsh school but it got results so their methods were accepted. I had to report to the deputy head’s office in break time at 11am. I had a strange feeling of dread and excitement which I am guessing was the first glimmer of a soon to emerge fascination with corporal punishment.

There was no answer when I knocked on the door, but after a few minutes wait he arrived in a bit of a rush as he was clearly busy that day. He asked me why I had been sent for the slipper and I said I didn’t know. A common but lame thing to say as we always knew why we were being punished but didn’t want to admit it to ourselves. He told me to “Take down your trousers and underpants” in a very matter of fact way. While I undid my trousers and began to take them down he opened a cupboard and took out a large black plimsoll.

“Take your pants right down,” he said to hurry me up. “And bend over the arm of that chair,” pointing to an armchair in his office.

I bent over and felt him lift my shirt tail out of the way. Then a pause which probably felt longer than it was. Then whack! My bottom felt like it had never felt before. Beyond stinging, it seemed to tense then fill with fire. Whack! the second came too early and hurt even more. I don’t know whether it was humiliation or shock or just feeling sorry for myself, but I burst into tears. That was it, just two whacks. My initiation. He told me to get dressed and join the rest of my class in the playground.

I was slippered many times in the years at that school, but that is a story for another time.

AN