1996, Sydney, Australia, and the fanciest Catholic Boys High school picked their soccer team for the European Summer tour of England and Scotland, and I was selected (as goalie). The tour was a great idea, 17 years old and off the leash on a tour of suitable fee-paying British schools, we were all terribly excited at the prospect of leaving the Aussie winter behind and having a laugh in Europe. The only obstacle was our parents (who had to be persuaded to cough up the cash).
Weeks of nagging at dad eventually got the green light, and we were off.
The school is based in the Northern Beaches, in sight of the Harbour Bridge, and in these days corporal punishment was still a very real possibility. The Strap (a thick 20 inch strip of woven leather) across the hands was not as frequent as in days gone by, but a very real possibility, as I discovered a couple of time in my first and second years at the school but was reasonably infrequent in more enlightened times. In gym class a couple of lads had had a stroke (on two occasions two strokes) of a snorkellers flipper applied to their backsides bent over a bench, and even through shorts and underpants it had a spectacular effect, but I was reasonably well behaved and never had this particular experience.
Emotional farewells behind us we set off to tour a half dozen well-picked Public schools for friendly matches. Frankly soccer is not Australias strong point and we lost virtually every game. This, and high jinks on the trip over, added to the stress on the 26 year old master accompanying us and there is no doubt we got progressively rowdier as the tour progressed.
We hadnt realised corporal punishment had been eliminated from British schools for some time and this resulted in some good natured teasing between cultures with the locals accusing us of being big girls for getting our bottoms smacked (we didnt feel it necessary to correct them on the anatomy) at our ages and us responding they were too soft to take it.
One night in Durham, having had a bad game with the local team who were putting us up in their dorms, we hit the pubs. In reality it was less than a couple of drinks before a very agitated Mr Gould caught up with four of us who were together and ordered us back to the dorm.
Not too sure of the fate which awaited us we slunk off and Gould, red faced and at his wits end ordered us to get ready for bed and he would be in to deal with us directly.
Whatever could he mean ? We all knew that he hadnt packed a strap in Sydney (or at least we were fairly sure) so with a sense of both curiosity and dread, all effects of alcohol having worn off, we got undressed, cleaned our teeth and awaited our visitor.
When Mr Gould entered he had a sense of cold fury and was bearing gifts or at least a single gift. It was a black topped rubber gym shoe, of a type we had never seen before, apparently the gift of the local gym teacher. It was of ridiculous proportions, bigger than any foot I had ever seen, obviously the biggest size they made. It was a black canvas slip-on top and a thick, ridged rubber sole and very flexible.
On the instruction to stand up we did so. There were two sets of bunk beds in the room and we stood to attention, two of us in our jockeys, one in a pair of shortie pyjamas and me in a pair of boxers.
We endured about a four-minute harangue on disgracing the school, childish behaviour and learned that our parents would be told. Four white faced young men then learned they were going to be treated like the children they were.
Tony was first. He was told to bend over, NOW. And he did, gripping his knees as he went. He was then told to pull his jocks up, RIGHT UP, and, with a half seconds glance at us he did so, exposing a pair of well built teenage cheeks and a bit of normally hidden hair. Back down he went.
And Gould laid into him, hot and hard.
The first swipe was as much a surprise to us as it was to him. We had never seen such a wallop. One minute the slipper was over Gould's shoulder then it whallopppped onto, in fact into, his right butt cheek, the next it was removed and a white patch of flesh in the exact shape of the slipper appeared. Tony yelped and grabbed at it with both hands, standing up. Almost immediately a bright scarlet patch appeared.
Do that once again, any of you, and I start again. Now, over. And over he went.
Five more times that slipper SLAPPED home, the first two causing massive and loud intakes of breath, but when the last three CRACKED home they brought yells and tears and Tony was permitted to stand, with tears running down his cheeks from very red eyes as he danced around and rubbed his flaming butt with both hands, sometimes with both feet off the floor.
He gingerly removed his white jocks from the crack of his ass then he was told to put his hands on his head and stand facing the wall.
You could have cut the air with a butter knife.
Malcolm was next, standing there in his shortie pyjamas looking suddenly less than a burly gym toned seventeen-year-old and more like a naughty ten year old about to go over daddies knee.
Unsure what to do with PJs in terms of grabbing them into the crack to expose a bit of butt cheek he looked lost until he heard the command Drop them.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he undid the cord and dropped them, giving us all a glorious view of a hard on. For the first time I saw the fact that Gould had one too, obviously a rager.
Over he went, a bit more supple he managed to grab ankle and give us all the full moon. He has a lovely tight and round little arse, but 3 minutes and seven WALLOPs later (one extra for standing up) he had a lovely and very very red little arse. He was bubbling but not as vocal as Tony as he too was sent shuffling off to stand with him, shorties at his ankles.
Looks like I was last.
Nick, the Greek was a modest little body builder who favoured boxers in his modesty, and this was his undoing as they came down too.
Nick was a screamer. I doubt he had ever been spanked before and Gould really laid into him. Amazingly though he was flaccid at the start by the time that _d_a_m_n_ slipper had scorched him the sixth time he was not only yelling and tears streaming down his face, when he stood he had one of the thickest and hardest _c_o_c_k_s I have ever seen on a boy.
No time to savour though. I was next.
Giving yourself a deliberate wedgie, making sure you expose just enough bum cheek, knowing that a hell of a wallopingis coming up as you compliantly bend over and present your arse for thrashing was one of the most difficult things I have ever done, especially knowing your three mates are surreptitiously copping a good view and your teacher has now got not only a raging hard on but a distinct wet patch on the front of his trousers didnt help.
The first CRACK took my breath away, but he held his pace, dropping SLAP after WHALLOPP in carefully timed bursts of burning rubber. I had never felt anything like it and my tear ducts overflowed as I yelled my apology and promises and wiggled my ass around to try to move the next stroke away from the sorest points. It was fuc***g murder. I stood up, dancing from foot to foot and wiggling my tail as I rubbed it, literally with salty tears running into my mouth, but instead of being sent off to the sin bin they were called over to me.
We then got a lecture on responsibility and proper behaviour, three of us in tears and me still wriggling like a man demented.
We apologised contritely and were told to go straight to bed, and ominously told that the shoe was not a loan but a gift, and one that would be making the long journey home to Australia. My arse throbbed and burned like Hell for at least two hours after the hiding.
Within one minute of the light being switched off I had spit into my hand and had the best wank of my life ever or since. The fact that three other hot guys were doing it in virtual unison only added to the sensation.
The next morning we clocked each other in the shower for sting marks, they ranged from bright blush pink to ruby red to Malcolm who had dark bruising. I felt like having another pull there and then but managed not to.
Life in Sydney was beginning to look a lot more interesting.