At primary school we were strapped on the outstretched hands. That, it seemed to me, required true discipline – to keep holding your hand up despite every instinct screaming at you to pull it out of harm’s way. At least when the target was the backside the teacher and the thirty pairs of eyes belonging to your classmates, could not see any hurt mirrored on your face.
Our teachers were mostly spinster ladies, one of whom tended to glow after adminstering a strapping. We had one male teacher, fresh from college, who kept me after school a few times and strapped me on the clothed backside. Afterwards, his face was redder than my bottom looked when I checked it in the bathroom mirror at home.