This is the story of when I was whacked across the bum after a dance at the local girl's school, age 14.
We had all left our school in a bus, our ears ringing with warnings that we were 'upholding the good name of this school'.
A group of three of us hunted the dance-floor together as a pack, and found a group of three like-minded girls. At first we just danced and had a goodtime. Then we all sort-of agreed we might have a better time up in the girls' dormitary. So the girls made a big show of being tired, and headed upstairs. Soon after, my group asked permission to 'get a breath of fresh-air'.
Naturally, when we thought we were out of view we rushed round to the garden outside the window of the girls' dorm. My mates started clambering up. I was following, when a strong arm yanked my leg. I looked down in surprise, and saw the groundsman standing there, a grin on his face.
He chuckled at us as we made our way back down - amused at our being caught-out. He was in his mid-fifties, and had learnt over many years working in a girl's school, not to trust teenage boys.
At first he threatened to tell our teacher. Knowing this would mean a pretty severe caning, and probably worse - being banned from school dances, we begged him not to tell. He laughed and offered us a bargin. He'd give us each 5 strokes across the bum with the light cane he kept in his shed (I assume bacuse he regularly caught young men not keen to be handed over to the school), and we'd be quits.
We readily agreed. And it was a good bargin. He hit me first, making me lean over, with my hands on my knees - "the cuts" stung like mad , but it wasn't nearly as painful as the Senior cane. My bum was sore by the end, and I was careful sitting down for the rest of the evening, but I didn't cry or yelp at all. One mate - Stuart took the whacks in silence, while the other, Nick, nearly cried (he wasn't use to the cane like me and Stu').
We made our way back to the dance-hall, and our teacher came racing over, wondering where we'd been. "Just walking around the garden" we said. He didn't really belive us, and for one horrible moment I thought we'd get a whacking back at school, but he smelt our breath for smoke or alcohol, and being free let us rejoin the party.
The girls hadn't dared come back down-stairs. So, I told them about what happened to us on the following Saturday, and they just laughed , and made a point of hitting or kicking my bum on every possible occasion, for the whole day. I was quite sore, but also very aroused by the end of that day. I began to see punishment in a quite different way, after this.