The Swimming Lesson (Part 1)

[lightbottom]

The year that was instrumental in my future interest and love of spanking and being spanked started at an early age at school. I wrote an abridged version of the story quite a few years ago, under the sudonym ‘Wellspanked’. I now write the full and un-abridged version of it. It is just the first part of a series of incidents, which will follow, that have occurred in my life and although true, most of the people in them have had there names altered to save embarrassment except the main protagonist, the person who started it all. Some of the story contains a few embellishments to make the story more interesting to the reader. If you enjoy the tale, please reply, I would hate to think that I was the only boy to suffer punishment that would change his life forever, so read on:

PART 1

It started on Tuesday morning, I was upstairs, getting ready for school when my mummy called angrily up the stairs:

“ Dennis, hurry up, you will be late for school and you know what you will miss, don’t you.”


I had just started my second year at Junior school and today, this morning first lesson was my class’s first swimming lesson. My mum was an excellent swimmer and had won many awards when she was younger, but she no longer swam ever since dad failed to come home from Korea.


I grabbed my satchel, swim bag with trunks and towel, ran down the stairs, out the front door shouting:


“Bye mum”


School was about half a mile away, and I ran all the way. I was thinking as I ran,’why was mum always so cross with me’, I know it can’t be easy for her but she needn’t take it out on me’. I arrived outside the school just as Knobby the gate monitor was closing the gate. I just slipped in and Knobby, an older boy and a prefect shouted:


“Smithy, you only just made that, you lucky bugger”


Latecomers had to do detention after school and write fifty lines ‘I must never be late for school again’.


After registration and assembly, Mr Woodward our class teacher, told us to wait in the hall for Mr Davies, the deputy head/maths teacher who was taking us to the swimming pool. He arrived shortly after and escorted the class to the coach that was taking us to the swimming pool, which was about five miles away.


When we arrived, we went into the swimming pool. There was two pools in the building, a small one and a larger one where all the swimming galas were held. We went to the large pool which had the changing room adjacent to, but below the pool, which also held the swimming galas, so it was surrounded by tiered seat. There was a tunnel running the length of the pool which housed the pipes for the filtration system. It was always warm in there and had a bench running along the wall with a big pipe under it. The tunnel ran underneath the steps up to the pool and had a tunnel entrance door beside them.


We all got undressed and into our trunks, then Mr Davies called us together and told us not to run along the edge of the pool because it was slippery and he didn’t want any unnecessary injuries to cope with. After that little talk we all went up the steps for our swimming lesson. The instructor was one of the men who worked at the pool and helped some of the non-swimmers. I was, although, not very well, able to swim a bit so was left to do my widths on my own, with the instructor just looking over now and then. Mr Davies was sat in one of the gala seats by the steps watching us all.
At the end of the session, the instructor blew his whistle and called for everyone to get out of the water and to go down to the changing room. I was on the opposite side of the steps at the time so had to get out of the water because I was too tired to swim across. I waded to the steps and climbed out to find all of my friends disappearing down the changing room steps. I ran round to catch them up. Mr Davies, who was still sat in his seat told me to stop running and to wait at the bottom of the steps, which I duly did. He followed me down and then opened the tunnel door and led me inside. He closed the door and sat on the bench running over the pipe, he told me to take off my swimming trunks. These trunks were a navy colour with a white belt held with a metal buckle. My fingers were cold and I struggled to unbuckle it. Mr Davies shown remarkable patience because he waited until I managed to loosen the buckle and take my bathers down round my ankles.


He ordered me across his knees, which had a council towel over them, and gave my bottom half a dozen hard smacks, which, because my bottom was still wet from the trunks, really stung , and it made me cry. Afterwards he ordered me to stand and pull my trunks up and go and get dressed. I went out to the changing room and was surrounded by my friends who asked what had happened. I told them that he had spanked me for running around the pool, so they asked me to show them my bottom. I uncovered my bottom to show them but one of my ‘friends’ also gave it a smack because he decided it would be a bit of a laugh. Some of the boys did laugh but I was so embarrassed, and quickly got dressed, knowing that it would be all around the school before to long. Such is the cruelty of children.


When I got home I told my Mum that Mr Davies had smacked my bare bottom for running along the side of the pool - expecting some sympathy - Instead, she said that it was about time someone knew how to deal with me and that she would know where to send me next time I was naughty.




Two weeks later another incident occurred during one of our lessons. It was a maths lesson taken by the maths specialist teacher, Mr Davies. It was not in our usual classroom but across the playground in a temporary classroom, one of those wooden buildings like a very large seaside caravan. You had to get to it, once you had crossed the playground, through a gap in a high wall, into the school garden area. This building was on the right as you went through the gap and was close to the wall.


Mr Davies commenced the lesson, it was simple fractions. I did not particularly like maths because I thought it boring, so was not particularly listening to him. All the other children in the room were studiously paying attention, and the room was quiet. Someone close to me, and I never found out who, did a loud fart, which seemed to echo around the room. I burst out laughing.


Mr Davies, however, did not find it amusing and called me to his desk thinking I had caused the rude noise. As I was sat towards the back of the class on the right hand side, I had to walk past quite a few of my classmates, who sniggered as I past. Mr Davies, who was still sat at his desk, which was facing the class, and also on the right side of the room, motioned me to stand beside him. He said:


“Do you think that that was funny Smith”


“No, not really sir” I answered casually.


Mr Davies must have thought, after no repercussions occurred after the incident at the pool, that there would be no repercussions now, so he said:


“No, I didn’t think it was funny either, so undo your trousers and drop them and your underpants to the floor”


“Pardon, please sir” I said, not believing what I had heard, and not feeling so casual now.


“I know that you heard me very well, I won’t be kept waiting for you to obay me, do it now” he said.


I was really embarrassed as I undid my trousers in front of the class, especially as the girls were sat on the left had side of the class and would get a good view of me. My grey shorts dropped to my ankles followed by my underpants which I had to push down, bending as I did so, giving the girls a good look.


Mr Davies then took me across his knees, and as I went over, I looked at the class and out of bravado, I raised my eyebrows and pulled a funny face. The first smack that hit my bottom was much harder than he had given me before, and, like the fart, also echoed round the room. I cried out but the next smack was just hard as the previous one, and hurt as much. Before any more came, I put a hand up to protect my bottom, but Mr Davies just held it out of the way and carried on spanking. I was howling now, kicking out my legs and trying to twist my bottom away, but they still came, twelve in all.


Mr Davies said:


“You are not laughing now Smith, are you “


“No sir,” I managed to splutter out between the intakes of breath whilst crying.


He slid me off of his lap and set me on my feet, told me to pull my pants and shorts up and go back to my seat. As quickly as possible I did this, but this time fumbled with the buttons on my shorts because my body was shaking so much as I cried in humiliation. The thought of all of those girls and some of the boys, seeing my bare bottom being spanked red, made me angry as I walked back to my desk. The injustice of it all, OK, maybe I shouldn’t have laughed but the boy who farted got away with it. The only good thing was, I did get
sympathetic looks from some of the girls, who were shocked by the spanking.


The rest of the day was uneventful, except for the more than usual glances I got during play and lunchtimes. School over, I hurried home, not wanting to engage with anybody and when I got home mummy noticed that I was sullen and in a mood. She asked me what was wrong and I answered her ‘nothing’.


She knew something was troubling me so the kept on at me to tell her. In the end I did tell what had happened at school, and how unfair I thought it was, because I only reacted to someone else’s actions. When mummy heard about the spanking, a funny look came over her face and said:


“Come upstairs and let me inspect your bottom to see how bruised it is”


“Aw mum, do I have to”, I replied.


She insisted, so I had to follow her upstairs to my bedroom, drop my shorts and pants for the second time that day, so that she could have a look. She had a good look and touched my bottom in several places. She then said:


“That looks to have been hard spanking, I shall have to have a word with your Mr Davies. What would you like for tea, something special?”
















































































The year that was instrumental in my future interest and love of spanking and being spanked started at an early age at school. I wrote an abridged version of the story quite a few years ago, under the sudonym ‘Wellspanked’. I now write the full and un-abridged version of it. It is just the first part of a series of incidents, which will follow, that have occurred in my life and although true, most of the people in them have had there names altered to save embarrassment except the main protagonist, the person who started it all. Some of the story contains a few embellishments to make the story more interesting to the reader. If you enjoy the tale, please reply, I would hate to think that I was the only boy to suffer punishment that would change his life forever, so read on:

PART 1

It started on Tuesday morning, I was upstairs, getting ready for school when my mummy called angrily up the stairs:

“ Dennis, hurry up, you will be late for school and you know what you will miss, don’t you.”


I had just started my second year at Junior school and today, this morning first lesson was my class’s first swimming lesson. My mum was an excellent swimmer and had won many awards when she was younger, but she no longer swam ever since dad failed to come home from Korea.


I grabbed my satchel, swim bag with trunks and towel, ran down the stairs, out the front door shouting:


“Bye mum”


School was about half a mile away, and I ran all the way. I was thinking as I ran,’why was mum always so cross with me’, I know it can’t be easy for her but she needn’t take it out on me’. I arrived outside the school just as Knobby the gate monitor was closing the gate. I just slipped in and Knobby, an older boy and a prefect shouted:


“Smithy, you only just made that, you lucky bugger”


Latecomers had to do detention after school and write fifty lines ‘I must never be late for school again’.


After registration and assembly, Mr Woodward our class teacher, told us to wait in the hall for Mr Davies, the deputy head/maths teacher who was taking us to the swimming pool. He arrived shortly after and escorted the class to the coach that was taking us to the swimming pool, which was about five miles away.


When we arrived, we went into the swimming pool. There was two pools in the building, a small one and a larger one where all the swimming galas were held. We went to the large pool which had the changing room adjacent to, but below the pool, which also held the swimming galas, so it was surrounded by tiered seat. There was a tunnel running the length of the pool which housed the pipes for the filtration system. It was always warm in there and had a bench running along the wall with a big pipe under it. The tunnel ran underneath the steps up to the pool and had a tunnel entrance door beside them.


We all got undressed and into our trunks, then Mr Davies called us together and told us not to run along the edge of the pool because it was slippery and he didn’t want any unnecessary injuries to cope with. After that little talk we all went up the steps for our swimming lesson. The instructor was one of the men who worked at the pool and helped some of the non-swimmers. I was, although, not very well, able to swim a bit so was left to do my widths on my own, with the instructor just looking over now and then. Mr Davies was sat in one of the gala seats by the steps watching us all.
At the end of the session, the instructor blew his whistle and called for everyone to get out of the water and to go down to the changing room. I was on the opposite side of the steps at the time so had to get out of the water because I was too tired to swim across. I waded to the steps and climbed out to find all of my friends disappearing down the changing room steps. I ran round to catch them up. Mr Davies, who was still sat in his seat told me to stop running and to wait at the bottom of the steps, which I duly did. He followed me down and then opened the tunnel door and led me inside. He closed the door and sat on the bench running over the pipe, he told me to take off my swimming trunks. These trunks were a navy colour with a white belt held with a metal buckle. My fingers were cold and I struggled to unbuckle it. Mr Davies shown remarkable patience because he waited until I managed to loosen the buckle and take my bathers down round my ankles.


He ordered me across his knees, which had a council towel over them, and gave my bottom half a dozen hard smacks, which, because my bottom was still wet from the trunks, really stung , and it made me cry. Afterwards he ordered me to stand and pull my trunks up and go and get dressed. I went out to the changing room and was surrounded by my friends who asked what had happened. I told them that he had spanked me for running around the pool, so they asked me to show them my bottom. I uncovered my bottom to show them but one of my ‘friends’ also gave it a smack because he decided it would be a bit of a laugh. Some of the boys did laugh but I was so embarrassed, and quickly got dressed, knowing that it would be all around the school before too long. Such is the cruelty of children.


When I got home I told my Mum that Mr Davies had smacked my bare bottom for running along the side of the pool - expecting some sympathy - Instead, she said that it was about time someone knew how to deal with me and that she would know where to send me next time I was naughty.




Two weeks later another incident occurred during one of our lessons. It was a maths lesson taken by the maths specialist teacher, Mr Davies. It was not in our usual classroom but across the playground in a temporary classroom, one of those wooden buildings like a very large seaside caravan. You had to get to it, once you had crossed the playground, through a gap in a high wall, into the school garden area. This building was on the right as you went through the gap and was close to the wall.


Mr Davies commenced the lesson, it was simple fractions. I did not particularly like maths because I thought it boring, so was not particularly listening to him. All the other children in the room were studiously paying attention, and the room was quiet. Someone close to me, and I never found out who, did a loud fart, which seemed to echo around the room. I burst out laughing.


Mr Davies, however, did not find it amusing and called me to his desk thinking I had caused the rude noise. As I was sat towards the back of the class on the right hand side, I had to walk past quite a few of my classmates, who sniggered as I past. Mr Davies, who was still sat at his desk, which was facing the class, and also on the right side of the room, motioned me to stand beside him. He said:


“Do you think that that was funny Smith”


“No, not really sir” I answered casually.


Mr Davies must have thought, after no repercussions occurred after the incident at the pool, that there would be no repercussions now, so he said:


“No, I didn’t think it was funny either, so undo your trousers and drop them and your underpants to the floor”


“Pardon, please sir” I said, not believing what I had heard, and not feeling so casual now.


“I know that you heard me very well, I won’t be kept waiting for you to obay me, do it now” he said.


I was really embarrassed as I undid my trousers in front of the class, especially as the girls were sat on the left had side of the class and would get a good view of me. My grey shorts dropped to my ankles followed by my underpants which I had to push down, bending as I did so, giving the girls a good look.


Mr Davies then took me across his knees, and as I went over, I looked at the class and out of bravado, I raised my eyebrows and pulled a funny face. The first smack that hit my bottom was much harder than he had given me before, and, like the fart, also echoed round the room. I cried out but the next smack was just hard as the previous one, and hurt as much. Before any more came, I put a hand up to protect my bottom, but Mr Davies just held it out of the way and carried on spanking. I was howling now, kicking out my legs and trying to twist my bottom away, but they still came, twelve in all.


Mr Davies said:


“You are not laughing now Smith, are you “


“No sir,” I managed to splutter out between the intakes of breath whilst crying.


He slid me off of his lap and set me on my feet, told me to pull my pants and shorts up and go back to my seat. As quickly as possible I did this, but this time fumbled with the buttons on my shorts because my body was shaking so much as I cried in humiliation. The thought of all of those girls and some of the boys, seeing my bare bottom being spanked red, made me angry as I walked back to my desk. The injustice of it all, OK, maybe I shouldn’t have laughed but the boy who farted got away with it. The only good thing was, I did get sympathetic looks from some of the girls, who were shocked by the spanking.


The rest of the day was uneventful, except for the more than usual glances I got during play and lunchtimes. School over, I hurried home, not wanting to engage with anybody and when I got home mummy noticed that I was sullen and in a mood. She asked me what was wrong and I answered her ‘nothing’.


She knew something was troubling me so the kept on at me to tell her. In the end I did tell what had happened at school, and how unfair I thought it was, because I only reacted to someone else’s actions. When mummy heard about the spanking, a funny look came over her face and said:


“Come upstairs and let me inspect your bottom to see how bruised it is”


“Aw mum, do I have to”, I replied.


She insisted, so I had to follow her upstairs to my bedroom, drop my shorts and pants for the second time that day, so that she could have a look. She had a good look and touched my bottom in several places. She then said:


“That looks to have been hard spanking, I shall have to have a word with your Mr Davies. What would you like for tea, something special?”

[Titanites]

Hi Lightbottom. Yes, I remember the short version you wrote a while ago, a sort of précis. I think my penchant was seeded by witnessing a similar spanking in Infants' School, of a boy by our woman teacher. Can you imagine teachers getting away with it now? At least the first spanking was in private; the second should have been.