When she was done and while I stood there, wailing and holding my newly smacked bum, mother reached up her skirt, drew down her own knickers and had a wee. She wiped herself and replaced her clothing. Then, while I was still crying loudly, she stood me by the bowl, took my penis in her hand and ordered me to do my own wee while we were there.

It took some moments for me to relax enough to let down my stream of urine and I stood there by the bowl for what seemed like minutes, my bottom burning and with mum’s hand on my willy, aiming it at the bowl.

I finally managed to ‘perform’ and mum drew my shorts and pants. As we came out of the cubicle, the door to another one a few down opened and a lady came out to join us in washing our hands. She had evidently heard me being spanked because she smiled and turned to my mother, asking: “Been a naughty boy, has he?” My mother was still grim-faced as she replied to the effect that she didn’t think she’d be having any more trouble that day.

We came out of the toilets – and my mysterious limp had disappeared.