When I was about 12 or 13, I had a fight at school with a girl called Tammy. I can’t even remember quite what it was about, but I remember us rolling on the floor and being separated by the duty teacher. She marched us into school and made us both stand with our noses to the corner.

After what seemed like ages, but probably was about 10 minutes, she came and discussed with us what was the matter. By this time, we had calmed down and we made up and agreed to be friends again. So, all seem to be happy now.

Unfortunately, if we thought that was the end of it we were mistaken as the teacher said we needed to be punished for fighting. So she told Tammy to go back to the corner and told me to bend over her knee. Of course, I had no illusions what that meant but I reluctantly obeyed and had a splendid view of the floor while she told me how disappointed she was in my behavior. I was very disappointed in being in the position I was in with my bottom in the air about to be spanked, but I didn’t let on. During the next couple of minutes, the room was filled with my yells as her hand and my poor little butt came into violent contact.

When she’d finished it was Tammy’s turn to assume the position as I frantically rubbed my bottom in the corner and Tammy’s yells filled the room. When the teacher had finished the exercise, she remarked that it had made her ‘quite out of breath’ without, apparently, a thought for the damage she’d done to our bottoms, which both felt like a pair of furnaces.

After telling us she didn’t want any more problems, she let us go and we went still rubbing our burning bottoms.

I don’t know to this day why she spanked us like that rather than paddle us. She didn’t know us very well and maybe she thought we were younger than we were. One good thing came out of it, though, was that we became good friends. In fact, we are still in touch today and still remember the mean teacher with a certain gratitude for the lesson she taught us that day!