When I was twelve in 1973 my parents decided that I should spend my last year at a boarding school to prepare for boarding at my public school.
A new school had opened the year before on the outskirts of the town in southern England about thirty miles from where we lived. My father was stationed overseas and my mother agreed that I should go to the new school, rather than the day school I had been attending.
There were only eight of us boys in the top year, although the school numbers grew after I left.
Mr Brown (not his real name) was Head and also owned the school.
As the schhol had only opened the year before, all the other boys knew one another and the routine but I quickly fitted in as I was reasonably bright and good at sport. The other boys in my class and dorm had been moved from the other school where Mr Brown had taught before and where he had been deputy head. They warned me that Mr Brown was strict and gave smackings as opunishments.
I had not really thought about how punishments might be given in a boarding school until then but, like my previous school (where I had avoided any physical discipline), all the parents had given consent to cp. When, years later, I saw a brochure advertising the school to new parents the paragraph about use of the slipper ''in some circumstance'' was still present.
Mr Brown supervised us older boys for evening showers. The routine was that you stood in a line, next to another boy, wearing your towel. Then, on the order, you marched into the showers two at a time (having put the towel on a chair) and waited until Mr Brown called your names again and you left to get changed into your pyjamas in the dorm. I remember the water was never really warm so you stood rubbing the soap into your skin and shampoo into your hair, hoping you would not have to stay there too long.
When we were all in bed we were allowed reading time. At nine thirty it was lights out. Mr Brown came into the room. He would then look around the room at each boy and sometimes your name would be called out. If this happened you had to put on your slippers and wait outside the dorm. Eventually, after about three weeks of the beginning of term my name was called out so I climbed out of bed and headed out of the room to wait for him in the hallway.
He turned ut all the lights in the dorm except for one in the corner of the room.
I had been told what to do by George, my best friend. He was captain of swimming, cricket and rugby and he was called out more than anyone else that year.
When Mr Brown and I finally reachedhis study I stood in front of the large mahogany desk and put my hands behind my back. I looked at the floor. When I was at home I got the slipper from mother and father but that was a quick affair. When I was punished at home it was usually at bed time so I was not really that scared of what was happening.
Mr Brown opened the drawer of his desk and he took out a large slipper and put it on the top of the desk. Mr Brown told me what I had done to deserve the smacking. I have no idea what it was but he then asked me if I wanted three with the slipper or six with his hand. I probably replied politely
''six with your hand, sir''
I was then told to go around the other side of the desk and he guided me over his knee. When I was in position I was told to stay still. I felt the back of my pyjama trousers being slowly pulled down until they were on the top of my thighs. Mr Brown rested his hand on my bottom. I must have moved because he gave me a smart smack and told me to remain still. I felt that smack and it stung.
I got six further smacks and my bottom was stinging by the time he gave me the last one.
Afterwards I felt his hand rubbing my bottom.
When he lifted me up he told me to go back to bed. None of the other boys spoke when I got back to the dorm, I guess they were all pleased thay had not been called. Then Mr Brown appeared again in the doorway.
''No talking...goodnight boys'' was all he said and the lights were turned out.
I told my mother about the school punishments at half term but it turned out that Mr Brown had mentioned it in my school report. At the end of the first full term when my father came back to England and saw my report he was not pleased.
After that Mr Brown began smacking me if I did not do well in class tests. George was also punished for poor schoolwork. When I complained again to my mother she told me that my father had written to Mr Brown suggesting that he smacked me for poor school work.
Looking back at all the bare bottom smackings I got in the remaining months I spent at that school my father's letter must have been the best news that Mr brown received all year. My twelve year old bottom was turned a deep shade of red by that slipper many times.