I Had a Mean Teacher

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 seems 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 need 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 complied with the request. The next couple of minutes were 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 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. One good thing came out of it though 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!