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Stuff that happened as a child that really shouldnt have.


IANdrewDiceClay
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Just remembered something from when I was a kid. Had to have been 7. 1991/92 or something. I remember my Mam bought me these 25 pence WWF rub on tattoos, during my dinner break. I put one on (Davey Boy Smith IIRC). Anyway, in PE (vest and pants obvs), my teacher saw it and fucking went spastic. Real in my face shouting "what is that! GET OUT!" Fucking madness. I remember being terrified. Anyway, only just remembered that now. That isnt right is it? You cant do that shit, even then. Fucking cunt. Fair enough, if it was a heel. Like Akeem or Ted Dibiase, but not the nations favourite son.

Edited by IANdrewDiceClay
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Sticking my willy between the cushions of a sofa and pumping it while Lady Chatterly was on BBC was a particular low point, Ian.

Another was being locked out my house one day and I had to jump over into the cornfields behind my estate to have a gik and use a combination of dock leaves and a Dandy comic to wipe with. The stinger was that Suzanne Tougher and a bunch of girls from around the corner could see me from her bedroom window and they rightly annihilated me for it.

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The year's 91/92 must have been a year for teachers being wankers! I remember me and a mate were obsessed with Robocop at the time, and decided we were going to play it(we will have been 10ish at the time). We were pretending to arrest another kid who had only just joined the school, so was trying to get him involved a bit. Thing is, his mum was walking past the school and thought we were bullying him. She apparently stormed into the school and up to the head teacher to make him run to her kids aid. Nothing too wrong there so far I suppose, as she has every right to want to know what is happening. Trouble is, the headmaster came bounding across the playground, grabbed me and my mate and ragged us to his office, before spending the rest of playtime shouting in our face about bullying, and smacking us hard across our legs(never once asked us what the story was). Then, he said that he was doing us a favour by not telling our parents, and if WE didn't say anything either, then the issue would be dropped! Cheeky cunt...

We were proper traumatised, and were so scared he would hold it against us(and smack the shit out of our legs more) that we made a bit of a pact not to say out to the parents. Even thinking about it now I'm shaking with rage that the miserable old cunt got away with it!  

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When i was young (under 10) i stayed over night in hospital to have my tonsils out.

When it was bed time the nurse took me to the toilets to change into my pj's and she stood and watched me strip naked.

I remember thinking she shouldn't be watching but just got on with it as quick as possible.

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Must have been a crop of the old guard ready to drop in schools around 1991/2 as I had a few awful old teachers at primary school who seemed to take it in turns year by year to retire. Every lunchtime we had to say a prayer before we were allowed to leave the classroom, one day this old bat decided I wasn't committed enough to the prayer and decided to grab me really fucking hard by the collar while i'm wearing a thick round necked jumper choking the fuck out of me. In a moment of natural reaction I grabbed my already prepared lunch box and clocked her in the face with it to get her off. I don't remember much following that until I was out in the corridor probably in tears being consoled by even the boys from the rough streets in the village. I guess the old bitch ran off maybe in tears herself or certainly shock. I came back nervously after break to find all I got was the second lowest punishment, name on the board with a tick (you had to get two ticks to see the head and three for your parents to be notified). I remember thinking that was odd back then but just feeling glad it wasn't going anywhere, she snapped at me about how lucky I was to not have it taken further too. Looking back now if I do remember things correctly she must have shit a brick that she had choked a kid. She did eventually tell my parents at parents' evening but they didn't seem to care much although they took her side in it until it came up a couple of years ago and I refused to let it drop until they figured it must have happened. I expect she is long dead now though..hopefully anyway, not for laying a hand on me but for generally having it in for me after that and making me think i'd done wrong by having a fidget during a fucking prayer and then defending myself.

Few years later my sister was at the same school and a teacher had slapped her and two others on the wrist for blocking the way, he was one of the few from that old guard still there and I actually pressurized my sister and mother into grouping the other parents and taking it to the school, the bloke actually got fired which was some retribution against the group of teachers from the time I was there 

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17 hours ago, Scott Malbranque said:

Sticking my willy between the cushions of a sofa and pumping it while Lady Chatterly was on BBC was a particular low point, Ian.

Another was being locked out my house one day and I had to jump over into the cornfields behind my estate to have a gik and use a combination of dock leaves and a Dandy comic to wipe with. The stinger was that Suzanne Tougher and a bunch of girls from around the corner could see me from her bedroom window and they rightly annihilated me for it.

The cushion thing reminds me of reading about it in FHM on how to spice up your wanks. Usual, numbing your hand and painting the nails to look like someone else's, cushions etc, but the one that 12 year old Bacon was intrigued by was putting an ice cube in a condom and wanking as the extreme cold of the ice against the heat of your knob when you came, apparently made it extraordinary.

Of course, I didn't have any condoms or ice cubes, so I did the next best thing, and just scooped a bit of neapolitan ice cream on my cock and away I went. It didn't make any difference whatsoever. Was just stickier than usual.

I told a mate this story a few years ago and he was mortified that I'd left the tub in the freezer. I had to reassure him, I got the ice cream out with a spoon, not my willy :)

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12 hours ago, Steve Justice said:

But you liked it, right? 

I grew used to it!

3 hours ago, JNLister said:

Why were you outside my house in the first place?

They sold tickets.

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My reception teacher was a child-hating psychotic nun. This was a private school in the late 80s, we were dirt poor but apparently my mum was "in" enough with the church she never had to pay a penny. Anyway, I'm not sure when the corporal punishment thing went away legally, but if you ever put a foot wrong in Sister Madeleine's class, you got smacked. Everyone child in that class took a beating at some point. Horrific. 

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19 minutes ago, hallicks said:

My reception teacher was a child-hating psychotic nun. This was a private school in the late 80s, we were dirt poor but apparently my mum was "in" enough with the church she never had to pay a penny. Anyway, I'm not sure when the corporal punishment thing went away legally, but if you ever put a foot wrong in Sister Madeleine's class, you got smacked. Everyone child in that class took a beating at some point. Horrific. 

1

Pretty much the same for me, albeit high school and not private. It had gone from being four separate schools (including all-girls and all-boys) a few years earlier and merged into one massive school. They inherited many of the Brothers/Monks who clearly struggled to adapt to teaching girls, so seemingly tried to overcompensate by being absolute bastards to the boys whilst being the nicest fellas on the planet to the girls.

Brother Dominic, with his gammy hand, shit walk and ciggie breath, regularly launched chairs at the boys, smacked us fully on the back of the head and would throw us into the blackboard at full pelt if we did the slightest thing out of order. At least one lad per lesson would come out limping or covered in chalk-dust. The girls were petrified, so him being all gentle and sweet to them probably came across way more sinister than it seemed at the time.

But the main one was the boys' PE teacher who was commonly known as Johnny Iron Balls. He was a complete dickhead and I have no idea how he got away with some of the stuff he did. He loved all the big lads who played rugby or could run; basically, anyone who would do well for the school's sports achievement stats. They could do no wrong. But the rest of the kids? He detested the rest. He'd line up whoever finished last in Cross Country against the gym wall so the others could fire a rugby ball at their arse until they made contact. He'd encourage the rugby lads to rob the others' clothes after PE so they'd have to come out of the changies bollocko to get some spares from lost property. He hated anyone from outside the area as we didn't fit in with his weird little rugby, high-sixing inbred mentality. He bullied the life out of me for years and often kept me behind so I'd miss my bus, making me walk home on my own for 5 miles in tears. Made my life hell just because I was small and from Liverpool. I hope he's dead.

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