I shall spare you the interview with the Head Prefect in his study. Somehow I find my way from it to the undercroft of the chapel – an ill-lit, gloomy place, with an echo. The Head’s footsteps. Firm. He appears and indicates where he wants me. I bend over, feeling my trousers tighten over my buttocks. He tells me to part my legs and to hold my ankles.
He then lifts the tail of my jacket over the small of my back, and studies my backside. I feel his hands on the waistband of my trousers, which he pulls still tighter.