On the first day of school in third grade, we all got into our new room and settled down. Our teacher, a Mrs Siding, introduced herself and talked about what we would do and so forth.
Then she got out her worn-out hairbrush. She pointed out that the bristles were mostly gone and it was of no further use for brushing hair. However, the other side was excellent for tanning the bottoms of naughty boys. No mention of girls – it turned out Mrs Siding did not believe in the spanking of girls, which was a good thing because she spent a lot of time on the boys.
We did not make it out of the first week without a demonstration. She called the miscreant to the front of the room, then pulled her chair out from behind her desk to the centre. With her hairbrush in hand, she sat down in her chair with the victim standing to her right.
She lectured a bit and then had him lay across her lap. She spanked somewhat slowly, and kept a steady pace for about 20 smacks. Then the now-crying boy was allowed up and could return to his seat. We were all quiet as she put her chair and brush away, and resumed teaching.
Some boys would start crying before they even went over her lap, some started during the spanking and some, like me, did not cry at all.
At home, my mother used a wooden paddle on my bare bottom, so I thought this could not be so bad. A few weeks into the year, I found out.
I don’t recall what I did, but I was summoned to the place of atonement. I could feel all the eyes on me as I walked to the front and stood by the now-seated Mrs Siding. After a brief talk, I went over her knee and found out why she used this position. She anchored her left elbow in the centre of my back and wrapped her hand around my side, No way I was escaping this, or could even move.
As the brush started to do its work, I gritted my teeth and stared at the floor, determined not to cry. Then it was over. I was released and allowed to stand up. I walked proudly back to my seat. It hurt, but nothing like I got at home.
Before I got my next one, I noticed that while getting it, some boys would stare at the floor like I did, some would look at the front wall but at least one looked at the class with a defiant smirk on his face. On my next trip over her lap, I decided to look at the class. Sometimes I would lock eyes with someone, a girl I think, in the front row. I think it took my mind off of what was going in in my behind.
I probably got five or so spankings from Mrs Siding. Some boys got it almost weekly and I suppose there were some that did not get it at all. Sometimes, several of us would get it one after the other.
All in all, I don’t think a week went by without at least one spanking. I got more that year than the other 11 put together. For the next three years I was in that school, when I saw a boy from her class I would ask if she still had her hairbrush – of course, she did. I imagine it did not retire until she did.