One naughty boy who was put back into short trousers

Dear Matron

I was educated at a Grammar school for boys in the late sixties and early seventies and wore short trousers with my uniform to the end of first form when I was 12. In the second year all boys moved into longs. At 16 my parents had an acrimonious separation and I was unexpectedly sent to live with a maiden aunt whom I hardly knew although I was able to remain at the same school.

My new guardian was a striking lady, tall and well built, who wore conservative tweed skirts and sensible shoes and belonged to the Women's Institute. With her hair in a bun she looked like the archetypal schoolmistress from about 1950. Despite her daunting appearance she was a likeable and kind lady albeit somewhat strict.

Shortly after I arrived I was almost expelled from school after being discovered in possession of bottles of beer with several other sixth form boys. My aunt was furious and I was punished by being put back into short grey trousers for a weekend and receiving my first ever bare bottom spanking. It was a complete shock and a singularly awful experience imposed to remind me I was still a child and that children were not allowed to consume alcohol. Thankfully I was allowed to remain indoors and so avoided the shame of being seen in public.

My aunt must have realised the effectiveness of her treatment and repeated it when I arrived home very late one night without permission shortly before I left school at 18. I then started work and was put me back into short trousers at weekends whenever she felt my behaviour was sufficiently lacking which was once or twice a year.

At 22 I was still living at home when I started dating my first girlfriend, a 19 year old trainee teacher whom I will call Ellen. She and my aunt got on amazingly well and I found myself resenting the fact that she treated Ellen much more as an adult than she did me. They seemed to become close confidants and I resented being left out.

A few months after Ellen and I had met I found myself subject to another weekend in short trousers, the first for well over a year. My crime was to have stupidly borrowed some money from my aunt's purse which she soon discovered and I was forced to admit my transgression.

She said nothing, but immediately upon arriving home from work the following Friday I was taken to my bedroom and ordered to undress. This time I refused, protesting I was far too old for such a punishment.

I could see her anger and I was about to apologise when I found myself across her lap with my trousers and underpants unceremoniously lowered to expose my bare backside.

There was no escaping her firm grip and I received a very painful spanking.

Sobbing and begging forgiveness, she dressed me in my usual outfit consisting of a pair of very short grey trousers with long grey socks and black sandals together with a school pullover and grey shirt and school tie. I knew I would be wearing my schoolboy clothes on the Saturday and Sunday until I was put to bed at seven o'clock on Sunday evening (early bedtimes and being undressed and dressed ready for bed by her were all part of the treatment).

Following the same routine as my previous punishment, the next morning my aunt took down my shorts and underpants and gave my bare bottom a particularly painful spanking over her lap. She was a strong woman with strong arms and I knew better than to resist and end up being punished even more severely. But my sore red bottom paled into insignificance when that afternoon without warning my girlfriend arrived to view my predicament. It was not a chance visit. I later discovered she had been told in advance of my chastisement and had been invited to see the "naughty boy" for herself.

Ellen ridiculed me without pity and ordered me to call her Miss Ellen as now in her eyes I was just a little boy. My aunt had told her everything about how I was treated and Ellen seemed determined to humiliate me to the utmost. It was only with the greatest difficulty that I managed to avoid bursting into tears. That evening at seven, I suffered the indignity of being told in front of my amused girlfriend that it was time little boys were in bed, I remember my aunt taking my hand and leading me up the stairs to my bedroom. As I later lay tucked up in bed, I could hear my two tormentors laughing.

Not surprisingly, Ellen ended our relationship but continued to remain friends with my aunt, indeed she would visit often. My aunt would put me into my pyjamas before she arrived so Miss Ellen, as I still called her, could wave me night-night when my aunt put me to bed early so that she and my ex-girlfriend could have a grown-up conversation without the presence of a naughty little boy.

Miles O. G.Gideon

Dear Miles

Your aunt was perfectly correct to modify your behaviour by putting you back into short trousers. I hope she and Miss Ellen are still disciplining you this way.

Matron