I got into serious trouble a while back in high school. I’d been caught with a small amount of cannabis in my possession. There was no denying it, it was mine and I’d somehow forgotten to leave it in my usual hiding place back home. I was taken to the vice-principal responsible for my year group, Mrs P, and got seriously reprimanded. She told me I had come close to being thrown out of the school.

Anyway, because of my good prior record I was given the option of a full Saturday detention or five swats. Now at the time I had a Saturday morning job and that particular Saturday, I had also agreed to meet with friends in the afternoon and go clothes shopping. That was a big deal for me. I just love spending Saturday afternoons with my friends, especially when we’re going shopping. I had to report to the school secretaries’ counter the following morning at 8.30 and let them know my decision.

I was so undecided. I didn’t want to have my Saturday plans spoiled, but the idea of having my butt severely bruised didn’t appeal either. I fretted about it after school, but didn’t feel it was something I could discuss with my parents. I decided to go talk to our neighbor who I call Uncle Jack. He isn’t any relation, but he’s an older guy who loves messing around with old cars and he’s easy to talk to.

Uncle Jack was in his garage doing something to an engine in one of his cars, but invited me into his kitchen when I asked if I could talk over a problem I had. I explained everything and asked what he thought I should do.

First, he said it was a decision only I could make but maybe I should list all the things in support of and against each option. I didn’t tell him exactly what I had done wrong to get in this mess, and he didn’t ask. I tried to be as complete as I could when telling him how I felt about each option. If I went for the detention, then I would have to explain to the storekeeper why I’d be missing next Saturday. She would certainly ask what I’d done. Would I lie or tell the truth? What would she think of me if I told the truth? Either way, it would be awkward and embarrassing.

Obviously, if I took the swats then my Saturday schedule could go ahead as planned. It was just the fear of getting five hard spanks, I guess, that put me off taking the paddling.

Uncle Jack advised me to make a decision as soon as possible rather than leave it to the last minute. That way, I could prepare for whichever option I chose. Asking one of the secretaries to put me on the detention list or refer me for paddling carries much the same embarrassment. It’s more about the admission I've done something wrong and have to be punished rather than the actual punishment itself.

Once I’d made my decision, Uncle Jack said I could then put all my energy into dealing with it rather than continue fretting about it. That kind of made sense. We talked some more over both options, and I could feel myself steering more to the paddling so my Saturday plans could go ahead. Uncle Jack seemed to read my mind, and said he felt that was where I was heading.

He then asked why I was hesitating, and I said it was just the thought of the pain. He told me the imagination is usually far worse than the reality, that he was sure it would hurt when I got it but that I would be able to sit down for the rest of the school day, maybe with a little soreness, but nothing more. When it came to the actual spanking, he guessed that whoever did it would have their set procedure and that I should just listen carefully and do whatever they told me. Concentrating on obeying the instructions would cut out a lot of the fretting. I think that was where I did finally make my decision.

Uncle Jack advised me to go up to the secretaries’ counter at 8.30, look the woman in the eye and tell her that I wanted the paddling. It sounded easy but I knew it wouldn’t be. Having spoken to Uncle Jack, though, I slept quite well and woke up the following morning with my mind set on going through with the paddling.

I felt nervous going up to the secretaries’ counter, more so when a middle-aged woman came and asked me what I wanted. I quickly explained I was given a choice between Saturday detention and a paddling and that I would take the paddling. She didn’t show any real emotion at all. After asking my name and tapping on a keyboard, she directed me to go sit outside the vice-principal’s office. I knew the school tended to paddle early in the school day, but I wasn’t expecting to be sent for it straight away like that. I suddenly felt very nervous.

There were four vacant chairs in the hall outside the vice-principal’s office, but I stood rather than sat. My anxiety was intense, but there was no backing out now. I was only there for a minute or two before I was called into the office. It wasn’t a very large office, just Mrs P’s desk and chair, a few filing cabinets and a couple of extra chairs. I was surprised to see a student teacher called Miss W already there. Miss W had taken us for a few English classes and I regarded her as young, bright and friendly.

Mrs P sat behind her desk and checked her computer, which was on a side desk. I stood in front of the desk with Miss W to my right looking straight at me. Then Mrs P asked me to confirm that I had chosen to be paddled rather than take the Saturday detention. I felt a tear in my eye as I agreed that was my preference. I could see Miss W had such a sympathetic expression on her face, while Mrs P was far more matter-of-fact. I just wanted them to get on with it so I could get out of there.

Things happened quite quickly then. Mrs P went over to a filing cabinet and took a wooden paddle out of the top drawer. It had a blade about sixteen inches long by no more than four inches, a handle maybe eight inches long, and it was made of a light-colored wood. She came and stood by my left side and asked me to remove anything in my back pockets and place it on her desk. I was wearing faded blue jeans, so I dug my hands inside the back pockets. I knew they were empty, but it seemed appropriate to make a show of checking. I murmured that they were empty.

Then the big moment came, and I was told to stand twelve inches away from the desk and to bend across the desk with my forearms flat on the surface. Following Uncle Jack’s advice, I concentrated on doing just that. Mrs P told me to get down lower on the desk and to stick my backside out more. I made the adjustments, which actually felt a little uncomfortable, but I figured I wouldn’t be there that long.

That was confirmed when I felt Mrs P tap my backside a couple times with the paddle, and then pow! She let swing and blistered my butt! Within a second or two, the paddle impacted my backside again, and then again and again. There was a pause in which Mrs P told me she was about to deliver the last swat, and then it came. I’m sure that was the hardest swat of the five.

And then, suddenly, it was all over. I was told I could get up and leave whenever I was ready. It took me a few moments to realize my punishment was over, but then I stood up and gave the seat of my jeans a quick rub. My backside was certainly smarting and I had a few tears rolling down the sides of my face. Miss W handed me a tissue and I dried my eyes.

Both Mrs P and Miss W seemed extra friendly from then on, as though they both approved of my choice to take the paddling. Miss W asked if it felt worse than I was anticipating, and I replied that it was about what I had been expecting. Mrs P asked if I now regretted my choice, and I said that I didn’t. It was the right choice for me in the circumstances. I then left the office and got on with my day.

PN