It was 1963. I'd grown up in southeast Toronto. My childhood was relatively happy and uneventful and I'd reached the advanced age of 12, half way through grade 8 at school. I was a top student and somewhat below average athelete. It was difficult for me to understand, but I had a very hard time fitting in. I just didn't seem to gravitate to any particular group of kids, or more accurately, they didn't seem to gravitate toward me. So I often found myself left out of the fun activities that a lot of the kids engaged in.
I did have one close friend, though, Donny. He went to a private school, but he lived not far away and we used to mess around a lot after school. I remember one game that we used to play with each other. It seems odd as I think back on it. The game involved spanking, which is why I look back at as something a little unusual for 2 twelve year olds to be doing. The truth is that I was never spanked at home or school and neither was Donny. Both our schools employed paddling, but we'd never given a teacher or principal occasion to paddle us, and despite our curiousity as to what it would feel like, we didn't plan on finding out.
The game that we started playing, sort of evolved. We used to wrestle on the carpet in my room as boys tend to do. Sometimes, one of us would have the other briefly pinned on their stomaches and we'd give the other a whack or two on the rear. Somehow, this activity seemed to develop into a game with understood rules. The object of the game was to overpower and immobilize the other at which point the person who'd gained the upper hand would forcibly lower the pants and underwear of the other and administer up to 3 hard spanks on the bare bottom of the other. Three was the limit.
We were of similar strength and the game usually ended up fairly even . Each of us took and gave our share as we battled furiously to gain the upper hand, so to speak. Some days we just collapsed exhausted, and no one got spanked. One day, the balance of power seemed to shift. After so much experimentation, I seemed to find a position where, as long as I could get him on his stomache, I could completely immobilize him by depositing my slightly heavy little butt on a very specific spot on his back and twisting his arm. At that point, he was totally at my mercy. He was never quite able to locate the right spot with me. After that, Donny seemed to lose interest in the game. What we both discovered was that although we thoroughly enjoyed the experience of being the spanker, we both quite hated being on the receiving end.
Some time after we stopped playing the game, I found that in addition to being ostracized at school, I was starting to get picked on. This boy, Joe, who was my age and a similar size had decided that I would be a fun target. Of course I was a fun target. I never fought back. As I think about it, it's hard to understand why I didn't. I guess I'd just been taught that it was wrong and that virtue would always triumph or some such rot. I'm not sure how to describe the stuff Joe did to me, maybe call it typical bully stuff. Push me over using an accomplice, knock my books over, whack me on the back of the head, etc. One day he pushed me out of the boys locker room naked after a shower (he needed help for that as I sure resisted), as a group of girls watched and snickered.
About a week after that incident, Joe told me to meet him in a particular spot in the laneway after school, the next day. He announced that he was going to beat the _s_h_i_t_ out of me. As I couldn't seem to think of anything else to say, my response was "OK". I felt awful. I had no idea what I was going to do. I decided to tell Donny about what had been happening and my date for the next evening. I told him that I felt I couldn't go on any more the way that I had been. I felt that I needed not only to fight him; I had to win the fight. The problem was that this kid had a reputaion for fighting all the time and was experienced. I'd never fought at all before.
At this point, Donny pointed out that I was one mean wrestler, and if I could immobilize Joe, the way he'd been immobilized, I would essentially have him at my mercy. Well the images that all of a sudden entered my head got me more than a little excited.. I asked Donny if we could practice a little. I called it an undress rehearsal. I had to promise that I wouldn't whack him. I wanted him to come at me and try punching me, while hopefully pulling his punches. I had the impression that if it were Joe, I would have been pummeled, but after about an hour of this I was learning to bob , weave and cover and find ways to get him on the ground.
I went to bed that night exhausted, scared as hell, but the thought that maybe, just maybe, I could pull off what I was contemplating, somehow lifted my spirits. I knocked on Donny's door the next morning and asked if he would attend the "festivities" after school. He replied that he wouldn't miss it. I then requested that he tuck something in his pocket when he comes. He just grinned and nodded.
I managed to avoid Joe at school that day, but the word had spread and people I didn't even know were walking up to me and saying "see you after school". I don't think I heard one word that any teacher said all day. I just kept thinking back to various incidents, particularly the one where I'd been pushed out in the hall naked. My desire for revenge was overwhelming, particularly, the feeling that I needed to appropriately humiliate him. There was more. When I played with Donny, I had found that our little game excited the hell out of me. This was insane, I thought. Here I am with a 4:00 date with doom and my little willy was hard as a board.
Ah well, school was out. I started to slowly walk toward the laneway. Some kids were making snide comments but most actually seemed supportive. One girl screamed "spank his ass". Little did she know what I had in mind. When I reached the agreed location, I noticed that Joe was already there. So was Donny. Kids had started to fo form a circle around us. This was getting more bizarre by the minute. It seemed like there were a thousand kids there, and we were standing around waiting for everyone to arrive.
Well, I was back to being just scared again. I figured if I was gonna die, let's get this over with and I moved closer to Joe. I was jumping around a bit and probably looked like a complete fool. Joe threw a couple of punches and missed wildly. I just kept jumping around but somehow he managed to catch me with a punch flush on my left eye. It stung like hell and blurred my vision, but I kept hopping around. He swung at me again but this time he missed and stumbled a bit. I managed to trip him and he fell practically on his face. I literally pounced on him with a knee pushed into his back. I grabbed his arm, pulled it back and twisted. At the same time, I found the position to sit astride him, the same way I'd done it with Donny. Joe was grunting and swearing but he definitely wasn't moving.
It's now or never I thought. I have to try this. I reached underneath him and found what I thought was the buckle to his beltless jeans. It appeared to undo. I then gave his jeans as hard a yank as I could possibly muster. Instant sucess. Jeans and underwear fell down to his knees in one motion. I sat there briefly staring at a white, perfectly round unprotected bottom as the "audience" seemimgly let out one collective gasp. It appeared that no one was contemplating interfering. At this point, I felt my mission was clear. Inflict as much potential hurt and embarassment as I could . When I was done, I didn't want there to be any fight left in him.
I raised my hand as high as I could and used all the force my 12 year old body could summon to spank that exposed bottom. I continued in rapid fire succession. I don't know how to describe the sounds that were coming out of Joe's mouth. Howling would be the closest I could come. I have no idea how many whacks I'd delivered to that little bottom, but my hand was getting sore and Joe's bottom looked like it was experiencing changing seasons. I then caught Donny's eye and motioned to him. He proceeded to run over and hand me the ping pong paddle he had packed in his jacket pocket. I realize this was a little much but at this point I was a 12 year old bundle of adrenaline and I raised the paddle high in the air triumphantly. The comments from the kids were a combination of Whoa and Oh My God..
I brought that little paddle down over and over and over on what was now a bright red bum. Joe was alternately yelling and crying uncontrollably like a two year old.. Once the crying subsided, and became little more than a whimper, I stopped and let him up. I made sure I was prepared in case he decided to attack me, but he just pulled up his pants and ran away. The sounds I heard from the gallery of kids gave me a clear indication that they'd enjoyed the show. Donny put his arm around me and we slowly walked home. "That's one hell of a shiner you've got", he said, looking at my eye, "but no where near the shiner you left on his ass".
I went to school the next day with a little bit of trepidation, wondering what would happen. It seemed that Joe had decided not to show up. Oh great, I thought, that will get him a trip to the vice-principal's office tomorrow for a paddling. To my amazement, I discovered that I'd become a school celebrity and everyone wanted to be my friend. What was even more shocking is that Joe and I eventually became great friends after he made it clear that his bullying days were over.
I even had occasion to play the game that Donny and I developed, with Joe . Surprisingly, when he had me pinned, he didn't cheat and only gave me 3 whacks. Bloody hard ones, mind you.