Worst moments 5. The first time.
The discussion in the Sixth Form Common Room had become rather more than animated. I could see from the way the girls' eyes were shining that we'd hit on a topic that many of us were finding pretty arousing. We'd covered the three 'A's we associated with corporal punishment: Anticipation, Action, and Afterwards. Some of the girls had related their most embarrassing experiences, and now there was a brief hiatus while the group digested what they'd heard.
"OK," I said, not wanting to lose the momentum. "Do you remember the first time you got a spanking? Well, of course you do: I guess everyone does. I'll tell you about mine then let's hear about some of yours.
"It was years ago now and a day a bit like this: rainy and miserable. My younger sister and I were bored to tears. Dad was at work and Mum was out at her reading group; neither would be back for hours. Miranda and I looked at each other for inspiration.
"Shall we make ourselves up with Mum's stuff. That would be fun!"
"But she's told us never to touch her things. She'd be furious."
"We'll be careful. She'll never know. Come on!" I led the way upstairs and we sat down on the stool in front of Mum's dressing table and opened her cosmetics' drawer. It was like an Aladdin's cave and we started trying out each of the bottles, tubes, tubs, and powder compacts.
"To cut a long story short, we were so carried away with the fun we were having, we didn't hear Mum come back in...at least until she appeared in the bedroom doorway and exploded.
"We were sent to the bathroom to clean up, which took ages. We didn't realise how hard it was to get make-up off and we made a terrible mess of the towels, which made Mum even angrier. Then she sent us to our bedroom.
"Our parents had occasionally threatened us with a spanking if we misbehaved, but it had never actually happened. Now, though, we could hear Mum on the telephone to Dad. We couldn't make out everything she said, but our stomachs churned as we caught the words 'Damned good hiding', and shortly afterwards 'All right, I'll use a hairbrush on both of them". Oh golly!
"A couple of minutes later we heard her coming up the stairs. Miranda and I looked nervously at each other. Then Mum strode into the room, smacking this horrible, heavy hairbrush against the palm of her hand."
"Right," she said. "Get your clothes off, both of you." Trembling, we complied.
"You're each getting six. You're the elder," Mum said, glaring at me, "so you're first. Bend over."
My knees felt like jelly, but I bent down and grasped my ankles. I felt Mum rub the hard wooden back of the brush lightly around my bottom, and then suddenly there was this 'Crack!', followed by a blazing sting across the right cheek. I couldn't help it, I grapped my backside with both hands, kneading at the pain."
"Keep down!" Mum ordered. "That one doesn't count."
"I've been whacked a few times since, both at home and here at school, but I honestly don't think anything was as agonising at that first time. I don't know how I got throught it. Miranda was the same - she got two extra for moving - and we were both howling like scalded cats by the time it was over. Mum told us to stay in our room until supper time, and we were glad to do so. Actually, Miranda took a photo of my bottom and I think I've still got it on my 'phone. Yes, here it is: look."
I passed the picture around, to admiring gasps.
"OK, whose next?" I asked.