Hearst UK is the trading name of the National Magazine Company Ltd, 30 Panton Street, Leicester Square, London, SW1Y 4AJ. Registered in England. All Rights Reserved. We were well loved and they gave us everything that they could afford, but at the same time they showed us who was in charge. No,' said David, shifting on his feet. 'But a more professional actor wouldn’t have let it affect his performance.' He leered at Michael. One day, I was out playing in the garden. Mum was there too and talking over the fence to our left-hand neighbour, who I called Auntie Deirdre (the writer of the other story has already pointed up this rather peculiarly British tradition). She was in her 50s and had two grown-up children. Finally, the headmistress sat down at the end of a bench alongside a large art table. She grabbed one of the boys, pulled his shorts and pants down, then made him bend over the bench beside her.

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There are a couple of ways depending on the type of springs on the door, and the type of weather seal.... The cane was given with the child bending over a chair, hands on the seat. I had a classroom chair which I kept in the far corner of my office for the purpose. This was the right height for the child to bend over so their bottom was in the right position. From the very first visit to the Girl’s Grammer School, it was made clear that corporal punishment was used. After a tour of the school looking at laboratories, home economic rooms and such like, the new girls were sat, with their Mums. At the end of the ‘Inroductory Speech’ by the Headmistress. It was made perfectly clear that corporal punishment was used to keep any naughty girl in line, and that parents had to sign a consent form to say that they agreed with the school’s Disciplinary Code of Conduct. This caused a mumbling stir in the Assembly Hall and the loins of many girls, as Mummy’s turned to whisper to their child. The headmistress began by giving the boys a sound telling-off, shouting at them forcefully – and this is when we found out what had happened. Neither boy made no reply, and no doubt it was felt that their silence was pretty much as good as a confession. I’m Italian (please, forgive my English!), born in 1947, and reading your messages makes me think that my experience is not so different ! Sarah Forsyth and Lorna Davidson's accounts are very interesting, as well as the school days recollections of many people here.Mother looked very stern. “Mark, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt this time – but I tell you this: next time you hit your little sister, I’m going to pull down your trousers and pants, put you over my knee and thrash you within an inch of your life with the hairbrush. Do you understand me?” Mummy looked into the mirror, at this distance it was like a well framed photo, her on the bed, her shapely daughter with her upturned rump fine and round, catching the light. She looked at herself, doing what a good loving Mummy should do…her duty.

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Andrea had a little brother, Peter, and he would sometimes join in these rather illicit games. I think us girls would be about nine and Peter aged seven at the time most of this happened. If we went out for a meal (a rare treat in those days), our behaviour had to be exemplary:the worst sin of all was to annoy other diners. Rather different to nowadays when kids seems to take over the whole dining-room!The leaving of school behind her and the journey home was sullen. The man in the bowler hat frowned at her as if he knew. The walk from the bus stop to her lovely cottage was heavy and slow. Two of Mummy’s friends saw her and nudged each other. Was that a snigger? Now she had a vehicle for her pride. She had always been proud of her daughter, a bright intelligent daughter. Not many from the village had got into Grammer School in recent years. She knew that a lot of her peers in the W.I. Would be saying that very night…”I hear Karen got into Grammer school, she deserves it, her Mummy will be so proud.”

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I can’t recall exactly the first time my father used the slipper on my bottom, but I do recall as if it was yesterday the routine of such punishments.I was six or seven at the time. It was a beautiful summer and it was arranged that I should go with Hannah and her parents to a summer house they had rented for a couple of weeks. I was more than happy with this plan – I loved Hannah and her parents. Hannah was like a sister to me and her folks were like second parents. Protected: A Naughty Little Witch…A Private Little Story for Club Members Only ~ featuring Suzette. He scurried over and set about draping his long form over her lap (and the entire length of the couch). He felt ridiculous. Someone must be filming this. Georgia, probably. Hearing such words spoken, with such intimate detail and in front of my sister, was mortifying. However, I had little choice but to bow my head and obediently, quietly answer ‘yes’. I made myself scarce. We sat cuddled up for a little while longer, then Mum broke the silence. “Time for bed, I think?” I slid off her lap and climbed into my bed. She kissed my forehead and whispered: “How’s your bottom? Nice and warm?” I grinned, and said it was tingly but felt nice. Mum smiled. “You are a funny boy!”

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Wearing underwear (boys and girls mixed) was common up to the mid 80's at least. I know for 100% certain because I was a teacher at a primary school between 1984 - 1989. All children were required to wear PE top and shorts. If they forgot, they knew they would have to do PE in just their underwear. And ... They would have to walk outside, en-route to the hall or, if it was raining, walk through another class of children and down the school corridor.

As I say, I was a good boy for a long time, but such is the nature of small boys that they can’t be good for too long. I forget exactly what I had done naughty, but one afternoon, soon after I got home from school, Mum exploded on me and said: “Right – I’m ringing Auntie Deirdre!” I begged her not to but she was having none of it. She scooted her wheelchair over to the telephone and made the call. It was a relatively short one. Murmurs and a few stifled giggles ran around the room. Every girl knew what that meant. So too did the teachers. Mildred went to Ivy’s, where she met Betty and Mary. Like the fire in the plump bottom of our naughty girl, news of the good irls downfall began to spread. Oh yeah,’ said Michael. He appeared to think about it for a moment, with just the suggestion of a sordid smile, which David tried not to notice.