Who remembers their school spankings? I recently passed by the site of one of my old schools in Tyne and Wear UK (houses have been built there now) and memories of corporal punishment there came flooding back. I thought I’d share my memories of my school spankings. For the sake of privacy, I’ll only use the initial of teachers’ names but I’m happy to name the schools as they are no longer in existence.
My first school was Albany Infants. My teacher there was Ms M, a lady in her 50s – a proper old style teacher, fair but firm. When I was six, a lad wound me up on the playground so I spat at him (a very wrong thing to do, I know). He reported me and I was sent to Ms M, who spanked my (clothed) bottom. Nothing was said at home, and I never got in bother there again.
My second school was Albany Juniors, where my teachers were a Miss B and Mr H. Miss B was a young teacher in her 20s. She loved heavy metal – a proper headbanger if you remember those days. She was also a spanker, even for things like getting your times tables or spellings wrong. These spankings were given with trousers down but thankfully on the seat of your underpants. It seemed like almost every day, I was in front of the class getting my bottom spanked for getting stuff wrong.
Mr H was my second teacher there, and he just hated me. I got more spankings off him than ever before got in my life – I must have had a sore bottom at least twice a week. Mr H used to make you wait after school to be punished – he put a slipper across our bottoms – and it was so bad I sometimes wet myself with fear in anticipation. What’s more, I generally got the slipper from my parents too when I got home.
Not long after this it was discovered that I had learning problems, so I was sent to a special school in Sunderland. The headmaster, Mr R, was a strange man. I remember going with my mam and auntie for an introduction to the school. Mr R sat me on his lap and he kept tickling me in fun.
However, things quickly got more serious when he mentioned that the punishment for bad behaviour was the dreaded cane. It sent a shiver down my back. Mr H told my mother that I would be caned on the bare bottom – three strokes for less serious issues and ‘six of the best’ if I was really naughty.
I began to cry thinking about the prospect when, just as I thought things couldn’t get any worse, he told my mam and auntie that he liked to give new pupils a taste of the cane before they started as a warning of what to expect if they were naughty. To my dismay, I had my pants taken down in front of my mam and auntie right there and then and received two strokes of the cane across my bare bottom. It hurt so much that I determined to be a very good boy, and never saw that cane again during the three years I was at that school.
I then went to Donwell Special School, and this was the school where I received corporal punishment the most. My teachers there were Mrs W, Mr A, Mr L and Mrs E.
Mrs W (who was the deputy head) was a right bitch. She was a bare bottom spanker and she knew how to do it, too. If your bottom wasn’t black and blue by the time she’d finished with you, she wasn’t well. Not one child ever got away with not having a bruise off her, girl or boy.
Mr A slapped bare legs and that damn well hurt. I remember being at the swimming baths and me and my mate were carrying on. Mr A came up and slapped my legs, again leaving a bruise. He must have been concerned about it as the next day at break time he told me to stay back at moment. I thought I was going to get slapped again but Mr A only asked me if I had a bruise from my smacking. I told him I had. He asked to see it, and after he had inspected it he asked if my parents had seen it. I replied in the negative and he seemed relieved. Certainly, he never hit me again.
Mr L was a big, tall teacher. He could not only mentally but physically put you in your place – he would grab you by the scruff of the neck, drag you to the corner and give one hard smack on the bottom – that was it.
Mrs E was a proper ‘old style’ teacher, and I had great respect for her. We actually had dinner together not long before her death, as we had kept in touch. She was in her 80s by then but still had her marbles.
Mrs E was a belter – she didn’t think twice about making you drop your trousers and pants, and giving your bare backside a good belting. I tell you, you didn’t sit down for two days afterwards.
When I had dinner with Mrs E as an adult, we spoke about how things had changed since I was at school. She said that respect had gone out of the window when CP stopped in schools, and that kids needed discipline to teach them right from wrong.
Well, one thing led to another as we talked about old times, and after I said I’d like to see whether she could still give it out, Mrs E had me bare my bottom like old times and gave me the belt. It still hurt a great deal, even as an adult! Rest in peace, Mrs E.