I Received Corporal Punishment At School
My first slippering at the upper school
My old school was split into two sites; the first and second years at lower school, while the third, fourth, five years and sixth form were at the upper school site. The two lower years never went to the upper school site, except on sports days, or in the case of yours truly when I was playing football or cricket for the school team! To give an idea of the different sizes of the sites, the lower school had 2yrs, 8 classes each, around 30 per class, so just under 500 pupils. The upper school had 3yrs of the same number and size of class plus the sixth form, so approx 1000 pupils. Also, it was an ancient building and the old grammar school. So quite a daunting building and environment.
Further to this, the Headmaster used to venture down to the lower school every Friday to take the assembly, complete in his black gown. But the deputy headmaster never showed his face down there, which was possibly a good thing because he despised children, which I found to my cost in the first term in the third year!
The first time I ended up in his office was a scary experience. It was October 1985 and I had been caught out, among others, sneaking off from a cross-country run and having a cigarette or three. The secret had been to run out of the back of the school, across the field and into the underpass BEFORE the PE teacher got to the top of the school with his binoculars! This wasn't the first time we'd done it, and we'd got brave enough to come back out of the underpass and head over a small field to my house, once everyone else was away. Having done the run several times, we knew the timings to get back into the underpass in time, get dirty enough and join back in with the rest and so far avoid detection.
On this occasion, we had been too busy messing about we didn't notice the Heavens had opened as everyone else was running around the route. So we got back to the underpass, messed ourselves up in a bit of mud and splattered it up our backs and joined in. I didn't think anything of it until we got back to the changing rooms. We all jumped in the shower and got ready, but just before we were about to leave, the PE teacher asked all four of us to wait behind. I looked at them, they looked at me. We knew we'd been rumbled, but how?
That question was soon to be answered. He took us to the Deputy Head's office, which was out of the back of the changing rooms, up a few stairs, along a corridor and on the right before the main corridor running the length of the school. We were told to wait outside and he went inside for what seemed like hours! The longer he was in, the more worried I got, as my backside was still sore from two slipperings on successive days at home; Lord alone knows what for, but I remembered a few comments had been made in the showers as my backside was still displaying some angry marks.
Eventually we got called into the office, which was massive. Mr R (PE teacher) stood to the left of the desk as we looked, Mr P (Dep Head) sat behind this massive wooden desk. There was a little coffee table and chairs off to my right, and a chart on the wall with all sorts of colours and scribbles on. At least this was preoccupying my mind until I got snapped back into the moment with an awareness of a sudden silence and people looking at me. I went a bit (alright, very!) red and looked back at the Dep Head, whose only question was "well boy?" I stuttered, "well what, sir?"
At this moment, my curiosity of how we'd been rumbled was uncovered - he produced a PE shirt from one of our classmates, who'd actually done the run, and it was dripping on the desk. We were asked to take ours out of our bags, which we all did. The penny now dropped, everyone else was soaked to the skin, while we were bone dry. Me P asked again how it was possible to stay dry in that rain, with his catchphrase "and don't give me any piffle, any of you!"
I just put my head down because there was nothing I could say, and I wasn't going to try and talk my way out of this, I was caught bang to rights! I could feel my face burning a deep shade even for beetroot!! Because of my earlier interest in everything but what was being said, I was to be last and I was to pay for my disrespect. I feel tears well in my eyes as I along with two of the others trudged outside the office to wait. I was a bit concerned that he was going to cane us, I'd also heard a rumour that he sometimes used a strap too. Whichever, this wasn't going to be pleasant! What wasn't particularly pleasant was the fact we were visible outside the office to everyone passing at break time, and everyone knowing what was probably about to happen to us.
I remember hearing the unmistakable sound of slipper hitting clothed backside. After 3 strokes I heard a yelp, then a cry followed by two more louder cries of utter anguish from within the office. My friend was not soft either - so this must have really hurt. When he came out, I saw just how much! He was seriously struggling not to cry and had both hands clasped to the seat of his trousers!
The next one went in, with a similar reaction, then the third one went in. Reality again struck that my turn was next! So the reactions from within were multiplied by 100 in my head. When a third 13yr old slowly walked out of the office crying with both hands furiously rubbing his backside, my heart sank, my stomach churned, and I felt physically sick and a bit weak at the knees! Still, I took a deep breath and in I went, desperately trying to hold the tears back.
I got another lecture about truanting and the dangers blah blah. I just wanted it over, but this was prolonging my turmoil. Then, holding a black plimsole and tapping it off his left palm, Mr P finally told me to bend myself over the desk. I reached forward and grabbed the far side, as I felt the slipper patting my backside. Then there was a delay of several seconds and a loud 'THUD' and the unmistakable sting of a very hard stroke of a slipper, low down on my backside hitting both buttocks at the same time. I grunted, but stayed still. Seconds later and a repeat, but his time it really hurt and I yelped and started to squirm a bit. This was every bit as bad and hard as my dad hit me, and I was already sore!
Then at intervals of every 10 seconds or so;
'THUD' and I stifled a yelp
'THUD' and I somehow stifled a yell, but the tears were starting to run down my face. And my backside was ablaze!
'THUD' and this time I couldn't help but cry out. This was getting far too much to handle!
'THUD' a sixth stroke on virtually the same spot and I let out a proper shout. Much to my shame, tears were now running down my face.
I thought that was it all over. But that tiny bit of relief was soon snatched away, as I heard "two more, disrespect, trouble" I'm not sure that computed in my brain until I felt two more rapid strokes on the exact same spot, which made me yell loudly and nearly knocked me across the desk. My hands were slipping because they were wet with sweat. I was told to get up and get out, which I was only too happy to do, except my backside was on fire, picking my bag up on the way out. As I slowly made my way back to my next class, trying to stop crying and not look as if I had been crying, I realised my shirt was soaking wet with sweat and I was furiously trying to rub the burn away!
Sitting down was not particularly pleasant, and once the pain died down a bit, my thoughts turned to how my dad would react. The rest of the day took an eternity to pass, and by the time 3.45pm came around my backside was just aching. I'd been perfectly behaved though, because I couldn't handle any more - I had even given the smokers corner a miss during dinner time and the afternoon break!
I got home and told my dad, apologising like crazy for being stupid. I didn't tell him we'd been smoking, just that we'd been caught bunking off. But I also made a big deal that I'd been soundly slippered, it had really hurt and still did even then. My dad didn't have any sympathy for me and told me that I knew what to do as he reached for his own trusted slipper! I dropped my trousers and underpants and draped myself over the back of his armchair.
From his reaction, I knew my backside must have been a bit of a mess, because he told me I had a choice of 6 that night, or 12 the following night. Not fancying going for a record of 4 slipperings on successive days, I took a deep breath and took another 6 real stingers! After the first I was sobbing and by the end I was bawling my eyes out, and needless to say I ate my tea that evening stood up!!
My old school was split into two sites; the first and second years at lower school, while the third, fourth, five years and sixth form were at the upper school site. The two lower years never went to the upper school site, except on sports days, or in the case of yours truly when I was playing football or cricket for the school team! To give an idea of the different sizes of the sites, the lower school had 2yrs, 8 classes each, around 30 per class, so just under 500 pupils. The upper school had 3yrs of the same number and size of class plus the sixth form, so approx 1000 pupils. Also, it was an ancient building and the old grammar school. So quite a daunting building and environment.
Further to this, the Headmaster used to venture down to the lower school every Friday to take the assembly, complete in his black gown. But the deputy headmaster never showed his face down there, which was possibly a good thing because he despised children, which I found to my cost in the first term in the third year!
The first time I ended up in his office was a scary experience. It was October 1985 and I had been caught out, among others, sneaking off from a cross-country run and having a cigarette or three. The secret had been to run out of the back of the school, across the field and into the underpass BEFORE the PE teacher got to the top of the school with his binoculars! This wasn't the first time we'd done it, and we'd got brave enough to come back out of the underpass and head over a small field to my house, once everyone else was away. Having done the run several times, we knew the timings to get back into the underpass in time, get dirty enough and join back in with the rest and so far avoid detection.
On this occasion, we had been too busy messing about we didn't notice the Heavens had opened as everyone else was running around the route. So we got back to the underpass, messed ourselves up in a bit of mud and splattered it up our backs and joined in. I didn't think anything of it until we got back to the changing rooms. We all jumped in the shower and got ready, but just before we were about to leave, the PE teacher asked all four of us to wait behind. I looked at them, they looked at me. We knew we'd been rumbled, but how?
That question was soon to be answered. He took us to the Deputy Head's office, which was out of the back of the changing rooms, up a few stairs, along a corridor and on the right before the main corridor running the length of the school. We were told to wait outside and he went inside for what seemed like hours! The longer he was in, the more worried I got, as my backside was still sore from two slipperings on successive days at home; Lord alone knows what for, but I remembered a few comments had been made in the showers as my backside was still displaying some angry marks.
Eventually we got called into the office, which was massive. Mr R (PE teacher) stood to the left of the desk as we looked, Mr P (Dep Head) sat behind this massive wooden desk. There was a little coffee table and chairs off to my right, and a chart on the wall with all sorts of colours and scribbles on. At least this was preoccupying my mind until I got snapped back into the moment with an awareness of a sudden silence and people looking at me. I went a bit (alright, very!) red and looked back at the Dep Head, whose only question was "well boy?" I stuttered, "well what, sir?"
At this moment, my curiosity of how we'd been rumbled was uncovered - he produced a PE shirt from one of our classmates, who'd actually done the run, and it was dripping on the desk. We were asked to take ours out of our bags, which we all did. The penny now dropped, everyone else was soaked to the skin, while we were bone dry. Me P asked again how it was possible to stay dry in that rain, with his catchphrase "and don't give me any piffle, any of you!"
I just put my head down because there was nothing I could say, and I wasn't going to try and talk my way out of this, I was caught bang to rights! I could feel my face burning a deep shade even for beetroot!! Because of my earlier interest in everything but what was being said, I was to be last and I was to pay for my disrespect. I feel tears well in my eyes as I along with two of the others trudged outside the office to wait. I was a bit concerned that he was going to cane us, I'd also heard a rumour that he sometimes used a strap too. Whichever, this wasn't going to be pleasant! What wasn't particularly pleasant was the fact we were visible outside the office to everyone passing at break time, and everyone knowing what was probably about to happen to us.
I remember hearing the unmistakable sound of slipper hitting clothed backside. After 3 strokes I heard a yelp, then a cry followed by two more louder cries of utter anguish from within the office. My friend was not soft either - so this must have really hurt. When he came out, I saw just how much! He was seriously struggling not to cry and had both hands clasped to the seat of his trousers!
The next one went in, with a similar reaction, then the third one went in. Reality again struck that my turn was next! So the reactions from within were multiplied by 100 in my head. When a third 13yr old slowly walked out of the office crying with both hands furiously rubbing his backside, my heart sank, my stomach churned, and I felt physically sick and a bit weak at the knees! Still, I took a deep breath and in I went, desperately trying to hold the tears back.
I got another lecture about truanting and the dangers blah blah. I just wanted it over, but this was prolonging my turmoil. Then, holding a black plimsole and tapping it off his left palm, Mr P finally told me to bend myself over the desk. I reached forward and grabbed the far side, as I felt the slipper patting my backside. Then there was a delay of several seconds and a loud 'THUD' and the unmistakable sting of a very hard stroke of a slipper, low down on my backside hitting both buttocks at the same time. I grunted, but stayed still. Seconds later and a repeat, but his time it really hurt and I yelped and started to squirm a bit. This was every bit as bad and hard as my dad hit me, and I was already sore!
Then at intervals of every 10 seconds or so;
'THUD' and I stifled a yelp
'THUD' and I somehow stifled a yell, but the tears were starting to run down my face. And my backside was ablaze!
'THUD' and this time I couldn't help but cry out. This was getting far too much to handle!
'THUD' a sixth stroke on virtually the same spot and I let out a proper shout. Much to my shame, tears were now running down my face.
I thought that was it all over. But that tiny bit of relief was soon snatched away, as I heard "two more, disrespect, trouble" I'm not sure that computed in my brain until I felt two more rapid strokes on the exact same spot, which made me yell loudly and nearly knocked me across the desk. My hands were slipping because they were wet with sweat. I was told to get up and get out, which I was only too happy to do, except my backside was on fire, picking my bag up on the way out. As I slowly made my way back to my next class, trying to stop crying and not look as if I had been crying, I realised my shirt was soaking wet with sweat and I was furiously trying to rub the burn away!
Sitting down was not particularly pleasant, and once the pain died down a bit, my thoughts turned to how my dad would react. The rest of the day took an eternity to pass, and by the time 3.45pm came around my backside was just aching. I'd been perfectly behaved though, because I couldn't handle any more - I had even given the smokers corner a miss during dinner time and the afternoon break!
I got home and told my dad, apologising like crazy for being stupid. I didn't tell him we'd been smoking, just that we'd been caught bunking off. But I also made a big deal that I'd been soundly slippered, it had really hurt and still did even then. My dad didn't have any sympathy for me and told me that I knew what to do as he reached for his own trusted slipper! I dropped my trousers and underpants and draped myself over the back of his armchair.
From his reaction, I knew my backside must have been a bit of a mess, because he told me I had a choice of 6 that night, or 12 the following night. Not fancying going for a record of 4 slipperings on successive days, I took a deep breath and took another 6 real stingers! After the first I was sobbing and by the end I was bawling my eyes out, and needless to say I ate my tea that evening stood up!!
51-55, M
