The caning was over and I had survived! Suddenly I tensed as the woman’s hand palmed my bottom. She touched me gently, I knew that, but still her hand hurt and brought forth a huge, choking sob from deep within me. “Oh, please, Miss,” I groaned, wondering what other possible torture she could have in mind. “Stay in position, lad,” she scolded gently. “Let’s just have a look at those stripes, shall we?” I couldn’t protest though every nerve in my body screamed in disagreement with her plan. Her fingers grasped the elastic of my gym shorts and slowly drew them down. I could not breath in my terror. Surely she did not intend — Of course she did. My white cotton knickers quickly followed my gray shorts to my knees and I lay there and wept in the purest misery, too utterly exhausted to argue with the teacher.
A Trip to the Head35
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