The strap was heavier and more painful than my father’s belt , although he didn’t limit himself to just 12 whacks.
I vividly remember my thighs trembling and muscles spasming as I stood there, waiting for the leather to hit my bottom.
I was terrified of wetting myself, as I had seen other children do during these punishments.
Quite cruelly, if a child wet their pants during a beating, their underwear would be left on their desk all day to humiliate them.
Fortunately, I didn’t wet myself but the pain was so bad that I cried.
Something which humiliated me horribly.
Worse still was the note I was given to take home to my parents, explaining my misdeeds and subsequent punishment.