I grew up in the 1960s and 1970s. My parents lived in a small Suffolk village but I went to a private boarding school in Cambridgeshire. In the 6th form, I was hoping to get into Durham University and it is at this time these events took place. It was my one and only trip over the headmistress’s knee. I was a boarder at a private school near Ipswich in the 1970s. I had an excellent academic and sporting record, playing hockey at county level and studying 4 A levels with a view to going to Durham next year. If I say

Before I reached puberty, I was convinced I had such a thing as a ‘spankable’ bottom. Even for those times, I seemed to get spanked more often and more severely than my contemporaries. I wasn’t a plump boy, but my bottom was rounded and ‘shapely’ like a girl’s. I was always being mistaken for a girl because, to my boyish shame, I was also in possession of thick golden curls which my mother refused to allow me to cut. One of my first memories is of my first day at my new school, aged five, being carried into class and spanked for ‘making a fuss’. In