THIS STORY IS FICTION!
My second year of seventh grade (thers's a story behind that in GYM CLASS), a new teacher came to my school. He enjoyed paddling people, especially me. He was a long time friend of my father. Anyway--the first day of class when he made the connection between me and my father, is when that year started going downhill. At my school you have one teacher for all your main subjects, and a different one for subjects such as P. E., art, etc. Well this new teacher was attracted to me and knew that he could get away with paddling me often because he knew my dad wouldn't care.
Well the first day of that class the only person given a uniform was me. My uniform was a jock-strap, some tight nylon shorts that barely covered the bottom straps of my jock-strap, and a white button-down shirt and tie. (It didn't match at all). When my teacher assigned seats in the class he just happened to have one less seat than students, so guess who got to sit in the back corner, in the floor, facing the wall; OF COURSE, ME! This made it easy for me to fail his class, because I couldn't turn to look at the blackboard; it also made it easy to punish me (always with the paddle) because his "paddling station" was right beside me.
I would get paddled at least once every day. It was always the same. He "would say" that I did something wrong, and I would have to get up, drop my shorts and "ask" him for a paddling. He would give me 50 licks in front of the whole class, then tell me to sit back down. I wasn't allowed to pull my shorts up until the school day was over.
Needless to say I failed seventh grade for the second time. I hope it gets better by next year!