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Recollections of a Spanked Schoolboy

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Seeing a girl’s pants was unheard of in everyday life, so for it to be sanctioned, legally, was almost akin to waiting for execution where you were not only punished, but legally invaded and destroyed, like in an act of war. It was both somehow thrilling and terrifying. The adults who mostly protected you could also punish you. This kindled in me my first great ‘love’ in the murky world of shadows – the desire to see a pretty girl spanked. That extract, on the perils of masturbation, is from one of the most famous Victorian school stories, the Reverend F.W. Farrar's Eric or Little by Little. Farrar was one of the many reverend gentlemen who turned their hands to writing boys' school stories. Experts in the field of the Victorian school story will tell you that Eric is a far more influential tale than Tom Brown's Schooldays. I can never work out why Thomas Hughes' famous work is so popular, although it has provided us with one of the great heroes of English fiction in the school bully, Flashman, immortalised by George MacDonald Frazer in his excellent Flashman books. This very naughty little boy needs his bottom spanked hard and he’s refusing to obey me – can you help me with him, please?” I’m sure Aunt Pam deliberately used humiliating, babyish language. This angered me and I became quite sullen and sulky.

Sometimes we forget some of what we have learnt which has everyday import such as letter writing or say times tables or maybe like me you didn't do too well so a 'second chance' would help you. When I was seven years old, I was sent away to board at a private preparatory (prep) school for boys in the south of England – this was in the 1970s and corporal punishment was still available for errant schoolboys. Long was greeted with a howl of delight as he marched slowly and unwillingly into the corridor with the chair of execution. Bridges," said Newton, "go to my study and fetch the cane which stands in the corner near the bookcase." Finally, she turned to me, all smiles and said: “Well, Asher, I think we have an understanding now, don’t you? And now you’ve met my little helpers!”

People of all genders do regress to the past in different ways sometimes more by doing things connected to their pasts such as a past-time, interest or hobby or by physically becoming that 'child' by dressing more like they used to. To Farrar nothing is trivial, he never says boys will be boys but sees their words and deeds as being of everlasting importance. Naturally the punishments must be significant too. I can vividly recall my first visit to his study. Both I and a friend of mine, Paul Jennings [all names have been changed – Ed] both got a demerit in the same lesson for constantly not paying attention. Both of us had been sitting on three demerits – and now the time for sitting had come to an end! I’m going to give you a taster of each of my little helpers – three with the cane, three with the slipper and three with the board.”“You can’t make me!” I protested, but with that she called Doreen into the room.

This all changed when I was 13. Aunt Pam was a Christian fundamentalist, and in my teens I’d sometimes stay weekends or for a time in school holidays at her lovely house in Amersham, and she became a kind of tutor to me too.

I did find the atmosphere of spanking that was around in every facet of cultural life quite exciting; forbidden, terrifying, and yet intriguing. At my primary school I was once sent to the headmaster for playfully spanking a girl’s bottom – but instead of getting the cane (which is what usually happened if you were sent to the head) he just scooped me up in one movement, slapped my behind three times and told me to never to do that again. I was otherwise a model pupil, so I guess I’d earned some credit points. My parents had warned me before my departure that the school used the cane, and the warning was accompanied by a severe admonishment to be a good boy. And actually I was – I was certainly no rebel, and fully expected to stay out of trouble. Eventually, the crying coming from the office died down, and after a further wait Paul emerged with a tear-stained face and furiously rubbing his bottom. “He says you’re to go in now,” he said before sloping off.

I remember actually grinning and not really taking her seriously, and yet feeling quite excited, with a combination of disbelief and adrenalised elation! I asked her if it was true that she’d caned her Rory across his bare bottom, but she just told me that it was none of my business – what was my business right now was my own behaviour. Down it came, and six good thumping cuts made Foxy writhe like an eel, and when he straightened himself up he was purple with the effort he had made to restrain his groans." The next thing I knew, Aunt Pam was holding my arms firmly so I couldn’t move, and Doreen was unzipping my jeans. Then I was pulled across Pam’s knee in a daze. This generally comes from a state of actually 'being' that little - in this instance a little boy - at a mental and physiological level as it works through how they play letting out their younger 'inner child' side in a fluid natural way rather than acting out a role play which is more where 'age play' comes in. Finally, Aunt Pam asked Doreen to give me three strokes of the cane, while she continued to hold me firmly over her knee. Doreen duly obliged. The cane strokes weren’t too hard, but they did bite.

I countered by saying that I was too old to be spanked, and asked what would happen if I simply refused to submit to the punishment, as she wasn’t my parent nor my teacher. This was actually very untypical and rather daring of me – but Aunt Pam simply said that I was most certainly not too old to be spanked. “Boys are at their naughtiest in their teens – they need more spanking rather than less as they get older!” she said. Then I heard her trot out this little ditty. “Spank a boy and do it right, trousers down, pants up tight. And if he smiles when he should frown, then spank him with his pants right down.” With that, Aunt Pam pulled my jeans down, exposing my underpants. My face was now near to the floor and I remember clearly the smell of the carpet, mixed with tobacco smoke as Doreen lit up a cigarette. I was actually Jewish, so Pam was not a blood aunt, but an ‘auntie’ – a friend of the family. When I turned 13 – the age of confirmation and ‘manhood’ in both Judaism and Christianity – her attitude towards me became a little less playful and rather more stern. Doreen seemed only too delighted to assist. “What do you want me to do?” she asked. “We’ll let’s see how co-operative he becomes,” Aunt Pam replied, “we’ll start with the cane.” This was a further bombshell – I’d never been told to take my trousers down for any punishment before. I just stood there transfixed, my heart in my mouth. I was definitely having a huge adrenalised reaction, and I froze like an animal caught in headlights.

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