Shifting Hands

I recall being summoned before the class to be strapped by Mr MacDonald for talking.

2 on each hand was the sentence

A class of thirty boys and girls watched on as I stood with hands outstretched and one hand resting on top of the true caledonian fashion.

Mr MacDonald was a weedy man who had a lot to prove so used to grunt worse than the players at a wimbledon ladies final when he swung the strap and had a reputation for breaking the hardest of miscreants.

His style hadnt changed , each stroke would be administered with a three step run up and an over the shoulder swing that would have put Geoff Boycott to shame.

I bottled it and couldnt even accept the first stroke on the left hand, I parted my hands just as he had swung the strap and it hit him on the thigh.This only served to get his gander up and a further two strokes was verbally added to my tarriff.

Again my hands came apart and the puny sod was doubled up in agony as the strap caught him on the thigh again, a ripple of laughter circulated the room.

"Headmaster Now Boy!!!!" he boomed.

Off I went knowing I was in for a fate worse than hell but it was worth it to see the **** buckle.

At least the head would thrash me in private and I could cry like a baby and compose myself before gracing my public.

He bloody did too, if you refused the strap it was a metre long flat ruler across the seat and I took my eight with reasonable dignity. somewhere between an air raid siren and a butchered pig would be an accurate description.
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Oct 15, 2012