My friend, Mark, and I were about 11 years old.
After tea, about 6.30pm, we all had to spend two hours doing "prep" (homework). After the teacher on duty tinged the bell in the dining room we all had to stand up, push the bench under the table and stand, in silence, hands behind the back while grace was said. Each table would file out into the corridor where the lockers were and collect our stuff for prep. You weren't supposed to talk from the time the dining room bell went until the end of prep. Although some conversation took place in the corridor and no one was ever pulled up for it but once you entered the prep room you had to be silent. The teacher on duty would work at the front of the room and us kids would (supposedly) work in the desks sitting opposite him.
On this particular evening, in early summer, the weather outside was brilliant. It was one of those warm clear days - a day when 11-year old boys want to be outside in the yard playing football or knocking a ball around.
Mr Colley, a PE teacher, was the duty teacher this evening. A small but powerful man of about 35. He'd been a gymnast in his youth and despite his small stature most of us were a bit scared of him. He had a temper on him and you never know how he'd react. Sometimes he'd shout at kids who'd not changed into their PE kit fast enough and at other times he could be quite friendly and older brother like.
Prep tonight consisted only of learning a few Latin verbs for a test the next day. The Latin teacher had been off ill that day and so probably wouldn't be in tomorrow anyway. The combination of warm weather and a reason for not having to do the learning that night was a recipe for disaster.
The atmosphere in the prep room was charged. Chairs scrapped, feet shuffled and boys sighed. Looks and smiles were exchanged across the room - no talking, of course, but communication and distraction from the work in hand. Colley was becoming more and more irritated. Everytime he looked up from his work our heads would go down. There was nothing he could do about smiling - that wasn't against the rules - and it was impossible for him to pick on one kid over any other because we were all at it. A couple of abortive attempts at relay coughing didn't come to much - Colley instilled too much respect in most of us and we bottled out.
About 8.00pm with still a half hour to go, the pent up feelings were running high. In the summer there was still enough light after prep had finished for us to play outside until the big bell went for dormitory and bed. All of us were looking forward to being released and were willing the clock round to half-past eight.
Colley got up from his chair. Heads went down. I was looking behind me at the time at Mark and the sudden noise and movement made me jump. Colley glared at me. "I hadn't talked, there's nothing he can do" ran through my mind. He held his stare, I broke mine and put my head back into the book. Everyone was looking at me and I could see out of the corner of my eye that some of the other kids were smiling - that weird smile kids get when they know one of their number is about be yelled at. I waited .. Colley strode out of the room, his footsteps resounding on the wooden floor. I exhaled deeply, "got away with it", and couldn't help laughing - the kind of nervous laughter that that you can't help; comes from relief rather than amusement.
Mark dug me in the back, "Thought you were a gonna then", he said
"Me too! You on for a game after this?
"Yeh! Do you know where's there's a ball?
"There's one behind the chair shed in the yard. Paul kicked it there this after' and no one got it out."
"Great! I'll race you to the shed. Starting signal is when the bell goes. I bet I get there first, wimp!", Mark teased.
He was my best friend so he was allowed to use language like that without being duffed up.
"I have quite a different game planned for you two after prep!" boomed a voice that filled the room. My stomach shot into my throat and I spun round in my desk to find Colley standing in the doorway. I don't know how long he'd been there but he looked fierce.
"When the bells goes,", he continued, "the two of you will wait outside my office. Prep,", he went on to remind the whole room, "is conducted in SILENCE."
There was now total silence in the room. Colley sat down and pulled his chair in to the desk. Through the open window I could hear the evening chorus of birds and smell the cut grass but above this the sound of the clock hands ticking relentlessly through the minutes to half-past eight was overwhelming.
The butterflies in my stomach didn't let up either. My heart was racing and with the adrenaline racing though my veins I was beginning to feel sick.
"TICK .. TICK .. TICK ..", went the clock.
Half-past eight - oh _s_h_i_t_ -"DING-DING-DING-DING"
"You two, Gym office, the rest of you don't be late for bed - GO", commanded Colley as he rose from his chair.
"Please Sir, can I ..", began the chorus as boys asked his permission to go outside, or to the library or to the other things they would do before bed-time.
Mark and I went out to the corridor. "He did that on purpose", suggested Mark. I shrugged. "What do you think?", he said looking at me.
"I don't know,", I said, "but he's in a foul mood".
(This was our code for, Mark: "Do you think we'll be whacked?", Me: "Very likely!")
We shuffled along the corridor in silence and stood outside Colley's office. The PE staff used this room as somewhere for them to change and keep balls and other PE stuff - "office" was too grand a title for it.
When waiting for a teacher in these circumstances tradition had it that you stood forehead against the wall, legs apart and hands behind the back. This was known as "standing-out".
We both stood there. To begin with we each kept out thoughts to ourselves. Each sighing occasionally as bouts of nerves and butterflies took us in turn.
We stood there for ages waiting for Colley to come. After a while we began turning our heads to look at each other, smiling and turning away again. We'd been in this situation together too many times. The "turn, smile, turn" game had sort of evolved as a mixture of out cooling each other and an attempt to take our minds off our impending peril.
I heard him first. The footsteps, unmistakable. We adjusted our positions against the wall - legs apart, hands behind the back.
Colley strode past and into the room. He closed the door, leaving us outside. We looked at each other.
The door opened, "Get in here you two!", Colley was red with rage.
We looked at each one more time and walked in. Mark and I stood side by side, hands behind our backs. Colley stood in front of us - not too close, but close enough to be threatening.
"What is the rule about talking in prep, Jenkins?", he snarled.
"Not to, Sir.", I said looking at the floor.
"Not to, what?"
"Not to talk, Sir."
"'Not to talk.' So why were you talking?"
"I don't know, Sir."
"Why were YOU talking, Duncan?", he said as he turned away from me in obvious disgust.
"I don't know, Sir." Said Mark.
I smiled, I couldn't help it. I think it was nerves - it certainly wasn't amusement. By this time I knew - we both knew - that we were going to be spanked.
"Well, Jenkins, Duncan, I'm going to wipe the smiles off your faces. I have had quite enough of you two and it's about time you were taught a lesson. If either of you think you can continue to get away with behaviour of this kind, I'm here to show you that I, for one, won't tolerate it.
I am going to spank the pair of you - GOOD and HARD."
Another adrenaline surge - he was looking really angry. He went on with a speech that was something about trying to make impressions on our minds and, having not succeeded, he would now attempt to make a lasting impression on our bottoms. I wasn't really listening, he sounded very far away and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. It always did when I was about to be spanked. I suddenly became aware of my backside in my underwear. I remembered the sting of the last whacking I'd got and my buttocks clenched involuntarily.
"Can you think of any reason why you shouldn't be punished?" He said, looking at me.
The traditional question! "No Sir", I said sadly.
"You Duncan?"
"No Sir", said Mark.
"Good, neither can I. Who's going first?"
Neither of us moved or said a word. Although the spanking was now inevitable neither of us were ready to have the administration of it brought forward by even a second. I stood there transfixed. I was trying, once again, to work out which was worse. Watching whilst my best friend was spanked and knowing my turn was next, or going first and getting it over with but having to stand there with a sore arse whilst Mark was dealt with.
"Who's going first?", he said again.
After what seemed like an age, Colley made the decision for us..
He picked up a wooden table-tennis bat from the table and pulling up a chair he sat down. "Duncan, come here!", he said. "Get your trousers down boy."
Mark fiddled with his top button and zip and his shorts fell around his ankles. My heart began beating even faster.
"And your underpants!", commanded Colley.
Mark dropped his pants.
"Right, over my knee!"
Colley positioned him over his lap and placing a restraining hand over Mark's back, began spanking him with the bat.
At the first whack, Mark's head shot up and his bottom began to turn pink. Colley waited a second or two for it to sink in and then applied the second. I stood there watching and knowing that my turn was next. I decided that it would have been better to go first after all - I'd remember that next time..
WHACK .. WHACK .. WHACK
Mark's backside was bright red by now but Colley showed no sign of stopping or tiring. He was raising his hand high into the air and bringing the bat hard down on Mark's bare bottom.
WHACK .. WHACK .. WHACK
Maybe it sounded worse than it was .. Mark wasn't crying at any rate .. but just look at his arse it had gone through all the shades of red and was starting to go purple ..
WHACK .. WHACK .. WHACK
Mark squirmed, Colley's arm across his back pushed down harder.
WHACK .. WHACK
"Get up! .. Pull up your pants and trousers and wait while repeat the lesson for Jenkin's benefit."
Mark pulled up his underwear and then his shorts. As he turned towards me I could see that his eyes were watering - he looked very sorry for himself. As he moved out of the way Colley looked at me and beckoned with his finger.
"You know the drill," he said, as I began to undo my shorts and dropped my pants. My heart was going so fast now and so loud that I don't remember bending over his knee and being positioned but it must have happened because I was now looking at the floor, my legs off the ground and dangling over his lap.
I could feel a draft of air over my bare bottom and either with that or the expectation of what was to come I could feel goose-pimples all over my arse.
WHACK ..I heard it and a fraction of a second later I felt it. God, it stung .. WHACK .. Geez .. how many did Mark get .. WHACK .. was it 8 or 10 .. WHACK .. bloody-hell this really .. WHACK .. I mustn't cry, Mark didn't and .. WHACK .. how many's that? Can't be .. WHACK .. God, I've got to .. WHACK .. his hand is holding me .. WHACK .. don't cry, I can stand it .. WHACK .. I wish I hadn't ...
"Get up!"
I didn't need to be told twice. I was up like a shot and pulling my pants up. It felt like my arse was on fire .. it actually seemed to hurt more now I was standing up but, although it was still very painful, I felt the last whack beginning to ease off and the hot stinging afterglow starting. I struggled to get my shorts up over my spanked arse. It felt like it had swelled up and there was another surge of pain as the shorts came up over my buttocks, my hands were shaking as I did up the zip and buttons.
We both stood there now with our hands behind our backs again. This time trying to secretly rub our sore bottoms without him seeing.
Colley got up from the chair and returned his instrument of discipline to the table. As he turned his back to us we rubbed our bottoms a bit harder and chanced a look at each other to wince.
Colley started his lecture in which he expressed the wish that we had now learnt our lesson and wouldn't speak again when we were supposed to be silent. At that point, I think, I would have been happy never to speak again if he'd wanted it - whether there was a need to be silent or not! I just wanted to get out of there, pull my shorts down and sit in a bucket of cold water!
Colley finished his lecture and dismissed us with a wave of his hand saying as we went "And remember you two that next time you won't get off so lightly".
We ran - how we ran - we belted down the corridor letting out a loud "AAARH" all the way to the shower rooms. The next twenty minutes were spent alternately sitting in a sink of cold water and inspecting each other backsides trying to decide which of us had come off worst.
Then the bell for bed went.. we ran like we'd never run before. There was no way we were going to be late upstairs - everyone knew the punishment for that..
"Last one up's a wimp", shouted Mark,
"I'm catching up", I shouted grabbing for him as we charged up the stair through the other kids.