BEXHILL SCHOOL

Corporal punishment was a regular feature of Debbie's life. Her mother and her aunts were firm believers in the maxim 'Spare the rod and spoil the child' and for even the slightest infractions (it seemed to Debbie) she would find herself over one or other of their laps. The one she dreaded offending most was Aunt Hariet, or 'Hariet the Hairbrush' as Debbie ruefully called her.

Today was typical. Debbie, who was staying with her aunt, had been just a little late back from school. Well, almost an hour late, actually: a pleasant hour spent with her friends in a coffee bar. But this had cut no ice with Aunt Hariet.

"You're late, Debbie. You know what that means. I've been waiting for you. Leave your satchel in the hall and come here."

Debbie could already see the dreaded hairbrush.

"Stand here. Knickers down, as usual. Now, over my knees and let's have that skirt up. Are you ready?"

It only took a few whacks on her soft little bottom for Debbie to be wriggling and yelling.

"I told you not to put your hands in the way. Now you're going to get extras, and harder."

Debbie didn't think the smacks could get any harder, but Aunt Hariet proved her wrong. And all that for a coffee and a doughnut. Oh crikey, she knew she wouldn't be able to sit still tomorrow on those hard wooden seats.