In 8th grade (age 13), our gym teacher, Mr. Shandera, had an old size-12 tennis shoe (a large adult man's size) hanging on his office wall. The top-side cloth had been cut away so that the only thing remaining was the rubber sole and the heavy rubber tip that covered the toes. He called it "The Whooper" and said that they used to use it quite often in the 1960s, but not much anymore in the 1970s. A friend of mine dared me to ask Mr. Shandera for a sample couple of swats. I told my friend I would and if he gave me the swats, then my friend had to get a couple of swats, too.
I told Mr. Shandera that I'd like to know what it felt like and would he give me a couple of swats. He resisted at first, but I kept pestering him during the gym class and finally he took me in his office, had me bend down to touch my toes, and then he gave me three good smacks, over my thin gym shorts. They stung pretty good, but I'm sure he didn't swing as hard as he did in the 1960s when a boy deserved the whacks as a real punishment. I don't think he wanted to get in trouble for punishing a student with full strokes when the boy didn't do anything wrong and when corporal punishment was no longer approved in the classroom.
And my friend got his three strokes as well.
I guess I am submissive now, but only because my wife is willing to spank me as often as I would like her to spank me, but she has zero interest in letting me spank her, not even lightly with my bare hand on her bare bottom. If she would allow that, I would just as happy being the top. Maybe that means I'm both, if I had the choice.