My parents didn't spank me or my sister. So when I got in trouble and my 5th grade teacher called me into the classroom cloakroom for my behavior I really didn't know what to expect.
I knew my teacher was one who doled out corporal punishment, because the whole class could hear the proceedings ... the slaps, the crying, everything except the visual. I was fascinated by spankings by this time. All my friends were spanked by their parents, so I did know what the end result was. Still, it was uncharted country for me.
There were two other boys called into the cloakroom with me. I recall that I wasn't the first one to be punished. I looked with a combination of curiosity and dread as my classmate was taken OTK, and his bottom spanked with teacher's huge hand.
Finally teacher called me over to his right side. I remember the feel of his hand in the middle of my back as he forced me across his lap, and the feel of his hand as it rested, temporarily, upon my bottom. I can't recall the words he said, something about this being for my own good and that I needed to clean up my act. Then the hand disappeared, and I knew I was moments away from receiving my very first spanking.
It was over before I knew it. Teacher only hit my upturned bottom 6, 7, maybe 8 times. The first swat took my breath away. By the third spank I was crying full out! It really didn't hurt that much ... I think I was crying at the indignity of it all. It surely left an immeasurable impression on my young mind.
But the waiting for it to begin was horrible! A lot like my first adult spanking!