Corporal Punishment

There was a programme on BBC the other week, part of a series about crime and punishment, I spotted the one about corporal punishment and tuned in expecting it to be entertaining. It was but no really salacious twists in fact only a couple of references by psychologists about sexual undertones where certain types of corporal punishment had been administered. What surprised me was the frequency with which it was used in schools, boys and girls, and the resistance from teachers and parents to its gradual withdrawal. Some of the interviews and accounts were funny, it was finally an EU directive which led to it being banned.

I googled for accounts of school punishments, there are rather a lot including some from 'reform' schools which were particularly harsh and there are lots which are obviously exaggerated beyond any possible credence. Here's a plain simple one I found in the Experience Project:-

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...my legs were shaking as I stretched myself over the desk. It was wide and I could only just reach the far edge with my toes on the floor, I still had my shoes on and felt ridiculous, it was not at all the way I'd imagined it when I'd heard of others getting it. I tried to make my grip as firm as possible and closed my eyes tight shut. I felt Mrs Tyler lift my shirt tail up and pull down my pants.

Oh christ this couldn't be happening.

I was concentrating so hard that I didn't notice any further movement by Mrs Tyler. Time was suspended then, suddenly, my bottom exploded in pain. It wasn't a line of pain it was my whole backside ablaze. I squirmed over the desk, holding on desperately, determined not to earn extra strokes. The awful smart got worse and worse. I still had three to come. Tears were squeezing out of my shut eyes. I had to be brave.

This time I heard Mrs Tyler move and tried to tense myself. The cane thrashed down again, and the awful pain in my rear went to a new level. I yelled out in agonised protest, trying to let the teacher know how much she was getting through to me but I'm sure she knew.

I held on although all my instincts were yelling at me to stand up and hold my poor backside. The third stroke landed lower than the first two, whether intentionally or not, it whipped across the tops of my thighs and stung like the devil. I screamed at the top of my voice and writhed over the desk. Somehow I managed to stay down and channel all of my efforts into holding on, but I was sobbing by then, no more pretense at being brave, as I awaited the fourth and final stroke.

Mrs Tyler kept me waiting for what seemed a long time, perhaps she enjoyed the sight of me sobbing over her desk my poor backside bouncing up and down trying to dissipate some of the sting. Finally it came. A whopper across the centre of my bottom. I howled out in pain again but kept my position.

The senior mistress kept me bent over like that for about a minute or so, crying, my bottom flooded with pain. Finally, she patted me on the back and told me to stand up. I can still remember my relief knowing it was over. I stood up slowly and I pressed both hands to my poor injured bottom, the embarrassment and humiliation coursed through me as I stood in just my blouse and shoes while my punisher returned her cane to the cupboard and then sat casually on the edge of her desk next to where she'd caned me.

"Uniform back on then."

This took a while, given the painful state of my posterior, my knickers and skirt were tight fitting and felt even tighter now. I could feel one particular mark, the one not being covered by my knickers as the others were, I thought it was swelling. Eventually I stood, still tearful, facing Mrs Tyler, waiting further instruction. My hands were carefully massaging my smarting rear, no point pretending it didn't hurt, she knew well enough.

Mrs Tyler passed me a box of tissues. She warned me to behave myself in future and told me that if I hadn't liked the cane from her I wouldn't like it any better from the headmaster and that's where I'd end up if I was caught fighting again. Then she dismissed me and told me to be sure not to dawdle going straight back to my class.

I walked unsteadily from her room and resisted the urge to stop at the cloakroom, she'd said straight back to class and that's what I did and of course all the others knew what had happened to me, I supposed my tear stained face and awkward attempt to sit naturally were dead giveaways. I just wanted to open the lid on my desk and hide my head in it and cry.

The incident led to better behaviour, I never got into the kind of trouble that could get me the cane again.

Ouch!

Ronnie

xx