I entered school at the beginning of the 1960s, firstly an infant’s school at the age of five, then a juniors school at seven, and on to secondary Modern Senior school at eleven. Then you could be spanked, smacked or given the cane if you misbehaved or broke school rules. It was then just what was expected, both by your parents, and you as a pupil at school.
During junior and senior school, you would expect to see some form of punishment daily, and end up at the receiving end a at least couple of times a month yourself. In our junior school, you mostly ended up over a teachers knee for a spanking. Towards the end, and in senior school, you were mostly caned on the hand or bent across a desk to be smacked on the bottom by differing forms of a punishment tool. Canings to the bottom were mostly done by the head teacher, and were a more formal punishment that was somehow logged, and letters would be sent out to your parents to explain why.
In my junior and senior schools in the northeast of England, there was the rare but occasional bare bottomed punishments too. You would worry if you were asked to see a teacher during a morning or afternoon break, or at the end of school times, as you had an idea this was going to be one of those times. In my own experience, it would normally be a female teacher telling you to drop your trousers and smack your bare bottom in an empty classroom without batting an eye. Mostly, they’d been through this themselves in school and were mothers who’d brought up their own children too.
The spanking I’m about to tell you about happened when I was over 12 years old in the 1960s while at a school swimming lesson in the local swimming baths. Earlier, there had been an accident there during a school swimming trip. A boy was running, slipped and fell hitting his head. He was concussed and had to go to hospital, and had a few stitches applied to the cut too.
“He shouldn’t have been running at all,” our headmaster declared loudly in assembly the next morning. “You have all been told during these trips not to run because of the danger of falling and seriously hurting yourself or others.”
We were told any further ignoring of this rule would mean immediate punishment. The teacher who took us all to the pool normally carried a plimsoll with him, and it really stung when applied to wet bathing trunks. I can tell you, you might as well have not been wearing anything at all as while bent over the wet material stretched and became more like a second skin.
A while back, our male gym teacher who I’ll call Mr Smith, who normally took us to the baths, had hurt himself and was off sick. For a few weeks we’d had the females’ gym teacher, who I’ll call Mrs Jennings, take us to the pool, but it was our maths teacher, who I’ll call Miss Wright who came along if Mrs Jennings wasn’t available or was busy.
Miss Wright had won swimming medals, and in her past and was a swimming instructor too, so I suppose she was the next best thing to take over pool duties.
She was a little different to both Mr Smith and Mrs Jennings in that they stayed dressed in their tracksuits by the side of the pool while teaching or watching us swim, while Miss Wright always just wore her normal clothes getting to the pool, but then went to the girls’ changing rooms and appeared at the side of the pool dressed in a dark one-piece bathing suit with a tracksuit top or Jacket on, as well as a whistle, worn around her neck. Maybe she just felt more ready to deal with any incidents this way.
Anyway, this day me and two other boys were messing around by the pool side. We hadn’t even got into the water yet. One lad was trying to push me and the other lad into the pool, which was another ‘mustn’t do’ school rule. We both ended up running a little way up the pool to get out of his way. Miss Wright was on pool duty and she blew her whistle, a signal for everyone to stop, look her way and listen.
“You three!” she shouted, pointing to me and my two mates. “Go into the changing room and wait for me there.”
We all slunk off to the changing rooms through the shallow water bath that disinfected your feet before entering the room, with all the other boys laughing at us as we left the poolside.
Once there, one lad slipped his trunks down and went over to his clothes to get dressed.
I said, “She only told us to come here and wait, not to get changed.”
He said, “You heard the Headmaster the other day. I’m not hanging around to get the slipper only wearing my trunks.”
To be fair he had a point. Any punishment would hurt less if fully dressed. Me and the other lad looked at each other, and both slipped our swimming trunks down and off. We’d only Just done this when we heard someone coming into the changing rooms via the pool entrance through the shallow water bath. Normally, teachers coming to the changing rooms would have to take the long way around as they would have trainers on. Miss Wright wore slip-on plimsolls over her bare feet by the poolside, so we never thought she would come in this way.
We all realised It would only be seconds and she’d be right in front of us, and we were naked, so we grabbed our towels and wrapped them around out waists to cover ourselves up. She approached us carrying her plimsolls in one hand, looking very annoyed at us.
Once standing before us she blasted us, saying something like, “Didn’t you three listen to anything I said? Did I tell you to get changed? No, I didn’t!”
We just hung our heads, all red-faced and shamed. She put the plimsolls down on the long bench that was attached to the wall where you would sit when getting dressed or undressed. She went over to a free standing chair that was placed in one corner of the room, picked it up and brought to where we were standing. She placed it on the floor and sat on it, then she beckoned one lad next to me over to her. When he reached her side, she reached up and, to his complete embarrassment and our utter amazement, slipped his towel down to the floor, telling us all that she couldn’t slipper us like that, wearing only our towels, as we wouldn’t feel it, so this was another option, saying, “If I can’t treat you all like responsible boys who listen to instruction, I’ll treat you like naughty little disobedient ones.”
Then, looking up at the embarrassed and completely naked boy standing right in front of her, she said, “Bend over my knee.”
Slowly, he did as he was told. She shuffled him into position and started to spank his bare bottom.
I was surprised watching our female teacher spank my naked classmate’s bottom as he lay squirming over her knee, I’d never seen anyone else get a bare-bottomed spanking at home or in school. Miss Write smacked her hand down repeatedly on each of his bare cheeks in turn. They both quickly looked bright red, and were probably sore too. As his spanking progressed, he began letting out a quieted shout as her hand made contact with his bright red bottom. It was frightening too, because soon it would be my turn. We were all over twelve years old at the time, still kids, but had gone through puberty, so had become to look more adult-like downstairs, so I felt this would be extremely embarrassing.
When she stopped smacking his bottom, she ordered him to get up and he stood there, still with not a stich on, rubbing his, sore-looking bottom. She ordered him to finish getting dressed, pointing over to where his clothes hung by the long bench. Picking up his towel, he walked over to where she was pointing.
Turning to my other friend, she beckoned him over. Slowly he obliged, and as before, Miss Wright slipped her hand into the top of his towel and pulled it away from his body, leaving him completely naked as it fell away. I remember she pointed down at her knees, and he lowered himself into position. Again, she brought her right hand down with just as much vigour as before, smacking first one cheek then the other as she focused on the task literally in hand. I watched, waiting my turn to bare all to a female teacher before she spanked me.
When, it was all over, and she stopped his spanking, Miss Wright told my friend to stand, with a last light smack of his bright red bottom. He stood up with an equally red face to match, grabbed at both cheeks and rubbed his bottom, trying to soothe away the pain as he picked up his towel and walked over to where his clothes were, joining my other friend already getting dressed.
Then she extended her arm, pointing her forefinger towards me saying, “Now you.”
I remember gingerly walking towards her feeling frightened by the prospect of not only getting spanked by Miss Wright, but also embarrassed by what was about to happen. As she slipped her hand downwards between my bare flesh and the towel wrapped around my lower body, it fell away and lay crumpled on the floor, leaving me completely naked in front of her.
She said something like, “You know what to do,” and I leaned over and lowered myself onto her knees.
The first thing I noticed was the sensation of my manhood touching her bare thighs. As she was wearing a bathing suit, the tops of her legs were naked too. It was warm and a really pleasant sensation, not unpleasant at all. But that was about to change. She shifted me into position, and then suddenly there was a sharp stinging sensation across my right cheek, then my left cheek. This continued as she rained the palm of her hand down onto each bare cheek in turn. I hadn’t counted the amount of times she brought her hand down when spanking the other two, but I reckoned it would be somewhere around twenty-plus individual smacks.
Time and time again, her hand slapped down onto my both cheeks, each time the pain got a little worse as it spread over the whole of my bottom, and it hurt, and the longer it continued the more it hurt and stung. Then, as suddenly as it started it was over and she stopped. I laid there feeling the sharp stinging sensation burning into both cheeks.
She added to this by slapping one cheek, briskly saying, “OK, get up.”
Standing, I too reached around with both hands, and rubbed at my bottom. It felt hot to the touch and was painful when I first placed my hands there, but the rubbing felt a little soothing. Looking at Miss Wright, who was looking directly at me too, she motioned her head towards my other friends still getting dressed. Taking her direction, I picked up my towel with one hand and made my way to where my clothes were waiting for me, still trying to rub the pain out of both cheeks with my other hand.
Then Miss Write sternly said, “Face me, please.”
We all did so, me still stark naked, my pals both in different states of dress, all still with bright red faces and bottoms.
She said something like, “I hope this has been a valuable lesson to you all. If you’d have listened to me out in the pool area, I wouldn’t have had to spank you like this, and I could have sent you back to swim, but you’ve lost that right now. You’ll just have to sit out in the front reception and wait for everyone else to finish the lesson. No noise, behave yourselves, or I’ll bring you back in here for more of the same. Clear?”
We all mumbled, “Yes, Miss.”
Then standing, she picked up her plimsolls, and walked away without a second glance.
The whole episode would have taken no time at all, probably no more than ten to fifteen minutes, and once in the reception area we sat around reading anything at hand, comics, magazines etc.
One mate said, “I don’t want anyone to know what happened in there. Do you two agree? No one!”
We both nodded and said no more about it. None of us wanted anyone else to know how we had our bare bottoms smacked by a female teacher at our age. We’d have never heard the end of it.
Luckily, whatever the others had heard out in the pool, nothing was said on the bus on the way back to school, so Miss Wright hadn’t said anything either, so it passed as just another smacked bottom episode to everyone else on the bus, so really that was that.
I never felt there was any sinister act to what took place by our teacher that day. Miss Wright was just carrying out her job, teaching some naughty boys to listen to what she was telling us, and punishing us for not doing so.