It is a bit sad when you get to the age when, thinking back to your school days, you remember the spanking, but not the name of the spanker. It was the geography teacher, and we’ll just have to call her Mrs Gee. I think it began with a ‘g’ or maybe that was a nickname, or ‘g’ for geography even. I don’t know.

One of my class-mates, Linda, not a particular friend, had asked me if she could borrow my homework essay if I had already done it, as she’d lost some time off-sick and she just needed to pick up my references and structure. I took pity on her because she had been quite ill and still looked really peaky, and she’d done me a favour previously, the other way round. She was very complimentary about my work and promised me a present. I was taken in, felt a bit sorry for her, and agreed against my better judgement. I made her promise not to just copy it, and she promised.

She gave me it back before the lesson and we all handed our essays in. The following week, everyone got their books back except Linda and me. I guessed straight away there was a problem, and then Mrs Gee asked us both to see her at the end of class; that confirmed it. I was on an unlucky streak that year with regards to school discipline, and I immediately worried about the outcome.

We stood in front of Mrs Gee’s desk at the end of the lesson as she confronted us over collusion with the homework, as Linda, the silly girl, had copied mine virtually word for word. I wasn’t going to shop Linda; we didn’t do things like that. We said nothing other than to express surprise that the work had seemed so similar, until the teacher threatened us with Mrs Hastings, the headmistress. I, for one, knew what that would mean, and an entry in the school punishment book too. I wasn’t sure Linda was familiar with that particular routine, but when she looked at me I think the distraction in my face was enough for her to own up. I was not off the hook, however, and we were both to report to Mrs Gee after school the next day for a detention, expected to last up to one and a half hours, so we could let our parents know we would be late. I thought I could probably explain my lateness without going into details, so long as I could catch the 6.00 bus.

I have to say I was furious with the girl, Linda, for copying, and seriously at a loss to know why I was being punished as well, but apparently, I was aiding and abetting the act of cheating, and so also to blame.

We reported to Mrs Gee as instructed the next afternoon after school. I was barely speaking to Linda, even though she had apologised profusely, but as we began to work on our task, we started to work together and did pretty well, sorting, dusting, and correctly re-filing all the books in the book-case, and then some folders in the filing cabinets. Mrs Gee supervised the first few minutes, then left us to it for the remainder of the hour. The atmosphere was still pretty frosty between us even though Linda was trying to be friendly, and still apologising. Then she found a certain book, hidden away behind the main run of geographical titles, and that broke the ice, we had a really good giggle, wondering if Mrs Gee put it there, or who else could it be? I told her I found a copy under my mum’s bed.

We actually did a really good job, and Mrs Gee agreed when she came back after an hour. She sincerely thanked us for our work. She asked us to take the rubbish we had cleared to the bins, and then we would be almost finished. With another half an hour supposedly to go, we wondered what ‘almost’ meant. We found out when we got back. There was a chair placed strategically in the middle of the room, and a fairly tatty old plimsoll on the desk, possibly the one the dog chewed.

It has been a long time, so I don’t remember her exact words, but they were to the effect of, “Now girls, you have done a really good job with the book-case and the cabinet, and I thank you for it. But, as I think I mentioned, I was minded to send you to Mrs Hastings where I am sure you would have received six whacks and gone into the punishment book with a permanent record for cheating. I decided to save you from that, and give you just four strokes each myself. Then we can put this matter behind us and no one else need ever know.”

I objected that we had already served a detention, and it wasn’t fair to punish us anymore. The response was predictable.

“Well, Jennifer, as you are choosing to argue about it, you’ve just earned yourself an extra stroke. If you continue to argue, you will end up with the six that only Mrs Hastings can give you, a punishment book entry, and a letter home. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss.”

We were told to take our skirts off so they didn’t get in the way. Linda went first and, as instructed, bent right over the back of the chair, and positioned herself with her elbows on the seat. This left her bottom high in the air and a perfect target for the discipline she was about to receive. Mrs Gee pulled her knickers up just a little to ensure there were no creases.

She picked up the plimsol and placed it on Linda’s upturned bottom, tapped a couple of times, then appeared to caress the bottom, moving the slipper from side to side, very gently tapping as she did so. Then she lifting it into the air and brought it down hard on the white knickers. Linda jerked forward just slightly, but made no sound. Neither of us were strangers to corporal punishment, so we might both have been expected to take the punishment reasonably well.

Once again, the slipper tapped very gently across Linda’s bottom, almost as if it was caressing the pain away, but then up it went and down hard again on that exposed bottom. A slight intake of breath, nothing more. Soothing taps again and then the third stroke bit hard, Linda gasped again, before issuing a squeak on the arrival of the last stroke, certainly the hardest. She was instructed to get up and, as she turned, I saw that last stroke must have hurt by the red in her eyes.

It was the same routine with me, the tapping strokes on my bottom and the hard punishment stroke. I had no idea why she did that. Was it some sort of good slipper, bad slipper routine? I rather suspected she was enjoying it though. It didn’t do anything to caress the pain of the previous stroke away. In fact, I rather wished she’d just got on and whacked me. As with Linda, the fourth stroke was extra hard and, although I was expecting it, it still took me by surprise and I responded with a bit of a gasp. Mrs Gee then kept the slipper on my bottom, even as I was trying to take on the pain by clenching and unclenching. She was just applying gentle taps to my buttocks as though just soothing the pain, but not really. She stroked my bottom with her slipper, lining up the final shot which she delivered with some ferocity low on my seat, making me cry out. Then she kept me bending over for what must have been thirty seconds, and I was beginning to think she was actually going to give me another one. It was maybe very tempting for her, but she resisted and let me get up.

When we got to the toilets, Linda pulled her skirt up and lowered her knickers to get a view of her bottom, which was fairly red. I usually waited until I got home, but she insisted I showed her mine, and she seemed quite impressed. I must admit, with my fair skin, I always reddened up after a spanking.

I asked her what she had done with the book as I hadn’t seen it again when we were finishing off. She lifted up her bag and pulled it out. My heart dropped temporarily. I anticipated another six of the best from Mrs Hastings, for stealing, but as Linda pointed out, who on earth was going to report it missing? She offered it to me, but I had already read it, well the most interesting bits anyway.

I realised then that I was going to miss my bus unless I ran, never easy after a slippering because the skin seems to tighten up and my bottom was pretty sore. Being a bit late home was not a problem, but if I had missed that bus, there wasn’t another one for half an hour and questions would be asked. I just caught it, fortunately. So, all I had to do was not wince when I sat down for tea.

The next day, Linda brought me the present she had promised; the brand-new Beatles single. I had warmed to her, in fact we got on quite well after our little adventure. Needless to say, the book found its way around the school, and eventually got borrowed by an English teacher. Nobody got the slipper, and in fact it became the subject of a lesson. As for the Beatles single, well it was a lovely gesture, but I already had it, although the new copy was somewhat less worn than mine.

As for Mrs Gee, she didn’t have to spank us, having already punished us with the detention. I got the impression that it was less that she needed to, but more because she could. I never heard of her using the slipper after school again.

JTo