' I've got a good idea ' he said !

During break times all pupils must vacate the building unless a valid reason is given.
That's more or less what the rule about break times stated. But of course if it was raining or cold yours truly and his mates would find a nice cosy vacated classroom in which to hide in.
 Imagine if you would a scene from stalag luft or colditz. The camp guards patrolling the barbed wire fence with vicious dogs barking at the full length of their leads. That to us was the game. Now, replace guards with dinner ladies and the dogs with the much hated prefects [ spit ].
 An English secondary school is a vast array of corridors and classrooms, toilets and changing rooms. The latter two coming in very handy as all the dinner ladies were well, ladies. Not many would dare to venture into the boys toilets.
 Incidentally , on the subject of changing rooms , I would like to hereby thank the architect who was responsible for designing the girls changing room on behalf of hundreds if not thousands of grateful boys. An open doorway then a left turn past a wall , then a right turn past a wall from the opposite direction so that the entrant did an 'S' shape. Trouble was , the two walls didn't overlap and so a well positioned boy could see straight into the bowels of the changing room . That's where I saw my first naked boobies! Failing that you could climb up on the flat roof and look through the skylight , which was permanently open to vent steam.
 Any way , back to colditz.
This particular day four of us had dodged the guards but had chosen a room at the very end of the corridor . No back way out . Only one thing to do was hide in the cupboards .
 I must have chosen three of the noisiest , stupidest and giggliest friends I could find. Within minutes we were apprehended and marched to the staff room .
 Mr Williams was a very tall daunting figure to any grown man let alone to us mere 2nd years. As deputy head he dealt with miscreant boys in a very firm fashion . Therefore , it was a major shock to be sent outside and made to sit on the lower playground wall for the duration of break time.
 A huge relief.
 As I stated earlier, my friends lacked a lot of common sense and so it shouldn't have surprised me when after ten minutes or so one of them wanted to go to the tuck shop because he was hungry. We had missed dinner but the money could buy lots of sweets.
 Deciding a trip through the corridor was too risky , we snuck around the school boundary to cross the road and home safe. Trouble was we had to pass the staff room window. Yep, no one had thought of that.
 Out flung the window and a ' YOU BOYS !' was bellowed at us by a clearly slightly peeved deputy head. Oh crap !
 Lined up outside his study the three of us could clearly hear the smack of slipper hitting number fours' backside. An occasional yelp told us we were in the shit , big time.
 As last man , I had to suffer the gut ache for the longest which grew and grew with every exiting , crying boy frantically rubbing his backside with both hands.
 That ' let's get this over with ' feeling relieved my stomach a little as I entered his study , but returned immediately he barked ' Bend over and touch your toes boy!'
 Anyone who has had a cold slippering will appreciate just how much it hurt. The first two were full swing strikes shared on each buttock. Thereafter he covered every inch of my bottom with regular measured smacks. The burn grew rapidly to a scolding hot which had to be endured till he decided when to stop as there was no count to be made. I don't know what shoe size his slipper was but judging by his height I'd say about a twelve as he could spank both cheeks at once with a little manoeuvring. My yelps came with the first impact on the top of the thigh. 'Shit that hurts, I can't take much more of this ' Blub.
 Finally I was dismissed and found that straightening upright only increased the pain in my bum and so I quickly headed out of his study and straight down the corridor to the nearest boys toilets.
 Plug in , cold tap on full pelt while I yanked down my trousers and pants.
 ' Fuck , my arse hurts.' I thought as I tried to immerse it into way too small a basin.
 ' I wonder where the other guys went to ?'
 ' And which classroom shall we hide in tomorrow ?'
   Some kids will never learn , Hi , my name is Gary......    

The Great Spanking of ' 67

A thin layer of snow covered the playground when I arrived at school that morning. Throughout the rest of the morning more flurries made it just deep enough to leave a footprint and the whole class was eager to escape lessons for the lunch time break.
Finally the bell sounded and we all stood as one to be dismissed by Miss Clifford. The rush to exit the door was tempered by the fear of being called back by Miss for being too noisy or too rushed or too anything really. I had had my hand slapped by her ruler on more than one occasion in the past and so kept myself at a steady pace until exiting the door.
Outside the stampede to the playground meant many a smaller child was simply pushed aside, or over. On reaching the playground I found a snowball fight had already begun with two discernible sides formed at each end. Joining one I quickly gathered snow and began throwing snowballs at any target still enough to hit.
 The trouble was the tarmac surface was quite old and so loose stones were very prolific. Being only 9 years old and keen to make friends in this new school I gave it no thought at all until...
 ' Stop this at once ', bellowed from the direction of the main doorway.
 There stood the headmaster, Mr Harris, with an expression that stopped everyone in their tracks.
 ' There will be no snowballs thrown in this playground ', he said as he walked to the middle.
 ' You are picking up stones in amongst the snowballs and someone could easily be blinded if hit in the face by one , do I make myself clear  ?' he glowered at us.
 Disappearing back into the school doorway everyone mooched about looking for some other form of entertainment when a single snowball flew through the air. It was like a starting gun for everyone to resume the contest and within minutes the battle began again.
 ' Right!' ' Everybody inside now and line up outside my office.' a very red faced Mr Harris shouted.
 A certain amount of place changing ensued as the line grew to the full length of the corridor. I chose to be in the middle as I was still not aware of what was about to happen. In front of me was a girl I had seen before so I asked her what we could expect. She ignored me. Drawing my own conclusion that as there were several girls in the queue we would only be given a telling off.
 I hadn't paid much attention to the kids leaving his office until with three to go before me I saw a boy leaving with tears streaming down his cheeks.
 The penny dropped.
Stomach tightened and yet still I couldn't believe the girl in front would get the same treatment.
 I stood facing the door to his office and jumped slightly when it suddenly opened and the girl rushed out with head in hands. Slight sobs disappeared out the main door with her. I walked in and closed the door behind me.
 In front of me was a chair, the back of which faced me. Headmaster stood to the left side with a large black plimsoll in his hand.
 ' Bend over the chair boy,' he said in a matter of fact way.
 To this day I can remember the sting of that plimsoll as it impacted my small bottom. Four strokes, two on each cheek made it burn and throb within seconds.
 ' Now get out, next !' he yelled and I exited not looking at anything but the floor in front of me.
 Outside in the cool air I frantically looked for a snow pile against the wall of the building in which to sit in.
 True story.
 All I could think of as I sat there was the look of disdain on the face of Miss Clifford when I got back to my class. I well remember the shame I felt as I entered her doorway and yet she merely pointed to my desk at which I dutifully sat. Bottom still throbbing.

 My first spanking at school but as you will see later, not my last.