When I was growing up in Texas several decades ago we called it "getting licks." It was a common phenomenon to hear the sound of a paddle cracking into somebodys butt a weekly experience in elementary school, almost daily in junior high, and occasionally in high school.
I was not one of the boys who got licks a lot. I was secretly in awe of the guys who would get into trouble regularly and calmly report the number of licks they got. That sound always gave me an erection, and when I finally received a real principals disciplinary paddling in the seventh grade, I almost came in my pants. Nevertheless, I was terrified of getting licks, fearing both the pain and the erotic nature of the experience. After getting it from my elementary school principal, three licks that brought tears to my eyes in spite of my fierce effort to look brave, I stayed out of trouble for the next several years. . . . until my junior year in high school.
The protocols of corporal punishment in high school were very different from the common semi-public paddlings that took place in junior high at the principals office, in the school hallways, at the lunch room or on the playgrounds. You could actually see boys get licks on occasion as the assistant principal carried a paddle around with him, usually tucked up the sleeve of this suit jacket, delivering summary punishment for violation of the schools multifarious rules of conduct: being late to the lunchroom, having your shirt tail out, getting caught in the hallways during class period without a hall pass. The more severe beatings for serious misconduct were usually conducted in the principals office, but I remember one time when the guy with the paddle up his sleeve came to our study hall and called a particular boy out into the hall. Wham! Wham! Wham! Three licks loud enough to rattle the window.
That sort of thing went by the wayside when I reached the tenth grade and started at Robert E. Lee High School. Paddlings were much less frequent, and were only rarely mentioned by teachers. The punishment was removed from the school offices as well, and moved to the boys gym, where a side office for the coaches served at the location for licks.
I had two narrow escapes in my sophomore year, both times involving my geometry teacher, not coincidentally one of the few teachers who discussed corporal punishment in class. She even offered her own ideas about how the school did not use it frequently enough. Early in the school year in Texas, it gets very hot in the afternoon. I was a very hormonal 15 year old kid, and had trouble getting to sleep at night. By the afternoon the heat, humidity and fatigue from a long day of school added up to an irresistible temptation to doze off
Mrs. James thumped me on the ear and handed me a hall pass and a note. "Mr. Hargis wants to see you, Davies." I blinked my eyes awake and caught up to what she had said. I was being summoned to the office. I assumed I would get licks.
But no, the assistant principal just gave me a lecture and I told him that I would stay awake in class. The possibility of licks was not brought up, but I walked out of the office convinced that if I got caught sleeping in class again that I would be bending over for a paddling.
Four months later, during the coldest part of winter, I had long forgotten about that trip to the assistant principals office. I finished my geometry assignment early and put my head down on my desk. With no official school work or assignment to be addressed, I was naοve enough to think it would be okay to close my eyes and rest.
Thump, on the ear again. I was not asleep, but I know I looked like I was. If she wanted to have me get licks, it was going to happen for sure. I looked at her sheepishly.
She just hissed, "Stay awake, Davies!"
I replied according to her expectation: "Yes maam."
The summer after my sophomore year I probably masturbated 100 times with the image in my head of Mrs. James taking me to see Mr. Hargis and watching him give me licks. I also imagined other situations in which Id get licks and for the first time in my life I began to consider getting in trouble on purpose.
What would it take to get licks but not to get myself into so much trouble that my parents would get involved? They would not have beaten me or added on to the schools punishment, and they might even have interceded on my behalf, even in those primitive times in Texas. But me getting licks on purpose for the purpose of helping my fantasy life is not something I wanted to discuss at the dinner table.
To be honest, as I worked the problem over in my mind, I was also afraid of getting too severe a paddling for me to stand. The elementary school paddling had really hurt I was older now, and I figured that a little harder than those licks would be just about perfect real pain, real heat and glow for hours afterwards, but not so bad that Id have to scream in agony. It would be a horrifying humiliation to find myself yowling and begging for mercy. I didnt really think I would do that, but who knows?
One idea I had was to bring a Playboy Magazine to school, and let some teacher catch me with it. Another idea was to act like a brat during a "visual education" session watching really crappy films. I could throw spitwads through the projection beam and make smartass comments in the dark about the film, forcing the teacher to take action against me. I rejected both of those ideas as being too dangerous, maybe drawing a suspension and definitely getting a paddling of maximum severity.
As my junior year got under way, I narrowed my choices down to two barely disobedient ideas:
One idea was to get permission to leave a class to go to the restroom, and then to take the hall pass and a pocket novel to read in the restroom. I figured if I did that for a few days in a row, missing most of every class period, eventually, the teacher would send someone to check on me.
The other idea was the most straightforward and least risky yet posing problems of its own: I would simply be tardy a few days, and get detentions, and then ask to get my detentions "burned off." This weird tradition in Texas schools allowed you to request to receive corporal punishment in lieu of serving detentions by staying after school. The drawback to this idea was that you would have to ask a man to paddle you no woman teacher involved in the equation. You just ask a man, "Would you please paddle me, sir?"
I wasnt really sure that I could make myself do that.
Eventually, I sucked up my guts and decided to do just that ask one of the assistant principles to paddle my butt.
This led to my big problem. I did not know the protocol for asking to get detentions burned off. Did you walk up to an Assistant Principal in the hall and ask for licks? Is there a specified time for making the request before school, after school, during study hall period? The whole business was fundamentally embarrassing to begin with, and I sure did not want to be stumbling around like a klutzy and nervous adolescent asking dumb questions about how do I go about getting my butt paddled? I needed some simple information, but there was no reference guide to where you find that simple information.
The answer came in a flash Coach Thomas. He was a PE teacher and assistant basketball coach and I had gotten to know him a little, kidding around during PE class. I would just ask him for how you went about getting your detentions burned off.
Mr. Thomas abruptly said, "Ill take care of it for you."
My stomach turned over. "Excuse me, sir?"
He repeated, "Ill take care of it for you. Lets go to the office and get your detention card. How many detentions do you have?"
This was going too fast for me. I was still just working on the game plan. Here I was in the middle of getting licks already and I wasnt sure I wanted to get licks from Mr. Thomas. He was young, probably close to 30 at the time, very trim and in good condition. There were rumors that he was a black belt at karate.
All of my fantasies had involved Assistant Principals, distant authority figures wearing business suits. The licks were impersonal the men did not really know me or know first hand what I was getting licks for, and a woman teacher had set the whole encounter in motion. This getting licks from Mr. Thomas had a very different atmosphere that I was not sure that I was going to like.
But I realized it was too late. I had wanted to get licks, and now I was going to get licks.
We went to the office together and along the way he cross examined me about my corporal punishment history. I told him about that principals paddling in the seventh grade and about the three single licks I had gotten from athletics coaches in junior high school when I was on the football and track teams.
He was not impressed. "So the last time you really got your butt busted at school was four years ago?"
"Well, yes, sir."
He snorted with an undeniable pleasure in his voice, "Well, I guess youre about due for a goodn."
In the office, he made a big, loud show of asking the office secretary to retrieve my detention card. Everybody in the area knew that he was going to paddle me.
We went back to the gym and he led me into the office and closed the doors. Without further conversation, he opened the closet and retrieved a long Plexiglas paddle, with holes drilled in it.
Mr. Thomas looked me in the eye and said, "Davies, cant go easy on you. Its my job to make sure that you consider this real punishment it is supposed to be more severe than serving a detention.
"My guess is your parents dont spank you and you are long, long overdue for some serious licks.
"One last thing, Davies. This bidness of getting licks, part of the deal is judging how you take your paddling. Im not talking about the pain. Its the attitude. This is gonna hurt and I wont hold anything against you for making a little noise. No, when its all over, though, I want you to have a good attitude. Clear?"
What the hell else was I going to say, "Clear, sir."
He had me stand with my legs together, bent over at the waist.
I heard the paddle whistle through the air and Wham! It sounded like a rifle shot in the confines of that little office. Wham! Wham!
The pain only started to really build until after the last lick. My butt was aflame. I tried to stand up straight and stumbled into the wall. I wanted to run, run fast enough to get away from this fiery agony that had overtaken my butt.
"So hows your attitude, Davies?"
The words leapt from my mouth, "Its good sir. I know I asked for that paddling, sir. Thank you, sir."
Mr. Thomas gently took my chin and turned my face up to look at him. He stared into my eyes and said, "See how easy that was. I hope we can do this again, soon, Davies."
End of Part One