It was early June when Dad spanked me twice at the Adirondacks campground in upstate New York, for disobeying and then lying about it. I had wanted to move on and leave that place right away, after those embarrassing discipline sessions, but Mom and Dad really liked the place. So, we stayed on and on – it seemed like forever.
Not that we didnt have fun, too, my brothers and I – the 9 year-old twins, Justin and Jason, and four-year-old Jonathon. But being so much older, – almost 11 years older than the t wins – and in college, to be punished publicly by my father made it difficult for me at the campground.
For example, our neighbors, the Linders, whose airstream was at the campsite right next to our RV, had been there since mid-May and were staying most of the summer. When I went down to rent a boat to take my brothers out on the lake, Mr. Linder was there. He came over and helped me get the boat into the lake, but before he did so, he asked, You sure its okay with your Dad, Jared?
Oh, yes, sir, I replied rapidly. He knows.
Okay, son. I just dont want you getting into anymore trouble. Understand?
Understand? Of course, I understood. We both knew exactly what he was referring to. I turned deep red, as I looked furtively at his face. Its . . . ah . . . its okay . . . ah . . . thanks. I quickly tried to dispel the tension and terminate the discussion.
No problem, Jared. Its better to keep all you boys butts off the burner if we can. You know what I mean? he peered into my eyes.
Ah, oh, yeah, . . . er, I mean, yes, sir. I stumbled a reply. We both knew exactly what he meant.
Another time, I had driven Dads Explorer pretty fast down the curvy mountain road leading to the campground store. While I was getting the things my Mom had listed for me, some other men came into the store.
Hey, young fella, they called out to me. You better slow down with that Explorer on these roads. If you get in a wreck, or your Dad finds out, you wont be sitting easily in that truck for a while – or anywhere else for that matter. They all laughed.
I cringed inside and tried to extricate myself respectfully from them, muttering, Y-yes, sir.
They wouldnt let me go, though. You know, boy, I admire your Dad, the Doc, a different man spoke. He knows how to keep boys like you and your brothers in line.
What could I say, except to reply politely, if tersely, Yes, sir, looking quickly up and back from the corner of my eyes.
Nothing like a good, hard spanking to get a boys attention and shapeim up. Right boy?
I felt devastated. It was obvious to me that these guys were having fun with my discomfort over my recent humiliation. I decided not to say anything.
What dyou say, boy? Speak up. I know you know better than to ignore your elders.
I shrunk inside, wishing there were some way to disappear instantaneously.
Itd be a shame to take you across my knees right here, and teach you a lesson in respect. And I bet Doc sure wouldnt like to hear about that happening, would he? Hed be pretty mad, wouldnt he, boy?
Sucking in a fast, column of air, I gulped. Not only was I wincing with embarrassment, I was becoming alarmed about the possibility of finding myself being paddled again. My hand was shaking nervously as the clerk counted out my change.
N-no, sir. . . . er, I mean, yes, sir. Youre right, sir, . . . ah, absolutely right. Im, ah, sorry, sir. . . . Ah, I didnt mean any disrespect. Honest, sir. The pleading tone of my voice betrayed my double fear -- of them, and of my Dad.
Come on, Frank. Leave the kid alone, another one of them spoke up. You can bet that boy gets plenty of reminders of respect from Doc! They all laughed again.
I picked up all three bags of groceries and hurried out of the store. I could feel the sets of eyes staring at me as I walked to the Explorer, opened it and put the groceries in the back, and then got in behind the wheel. Slowly, and very carefully, I backed up, and then pulled out onto the narrow, mountain road. I drove below the speed limit back to our campsite.
That night over supper I asked when we were going to be pulling out and heading out. Mom said she really felt at ease and relaxing there, and wasnt in any hurry to go elsewhere. I reminded them that we had talked about camping in Quebec province, Canada, too. But Dad said if Mom was enjoying where we were, then we were going to stay put.
I guess I didnt hide my disagreement, because Dad spoke up. Stop pouting, Jared. Youre way too old to act like that. But if you mope and pout like a little brat, then youre not too old for me to give you something to mope and pout about afterwards -- just like a little brat! I started to react visibly, but Dad responded, Do you need a reminder exercise, Jared?
No, SIR! I crisply reassured him. That was the last discussion about my anxiousness to leave.
It was July 4th weekend. The 4th was on a Friday, so we had a long weekend of celebration and events at the campgrounds. There was a big, international food festival, and games for kids and families, down by the lodge. A band played patriotic music each night, and there were fireworks over the lake every night. All-in-all, it was a good time of patriotic pride – relaxing and enjoying America in one of its most picturesque locales.
Except I was bored. And tired of being reminded and embarrassed about my corporal punishment sessions a month earlier. I wanted to get out of there.
On Friday, we had joined the many campers at the grounds of the lodge for a huge evening picnic. Then, my brothers and I sat with Mom and Dad throughout the concert of Sousas marches and other patriotic tunes until it was time for the fireworks. Afterwards, we all walked back to the travel home and had dishes of ice cream before heading to bed.
The next morning we all slept unusually late, and I opened my eyes at 9:30 when I heard my Dad calling me. We all stumbled to the little galley of the travel home for a quick breakfast, and then it was time for all the men and boys to trudge down to the community showers and get cleaned up for the day. Returning back to the travel home, I pulled on a loose, baggy, orange pair of nylon running shorts, a long white t-shirt, and flipflops.
It was almost noon Saturday, when Dad led us all back down to the grounds, where the international food festival was attracting a crowd. We decided to sample different foods in the afternoon, as our lunch, so that we wouldnt be too full by supper time when the fish boil and corn bake was to take place. When we were all sitting down, the twins asked me to toss a frisbee with them. I didnt feel much in the mood to do it, but Dad told me to take them down to the grassy fields beyond the beach. So, I went reluctantly.
About 2:30 p. m., Dad came looking for me. I had quickly tired of the frisbee game, and left my brothers still playing by themselves. As I wandered restlessly across the campground, I spied the bank of public telephones, and decided to give one of my college friends a call. He was in and took my collect call. I was so happy to speak with a college buddy. As we talked, I stood facing the telephone, my back facing outward.
The twins had lost interest in their frisbee match, and wandered back to the food festival area, where Mom and Dad were sitting talking with people, with Jonathon playing in the nearby sandbox. Dad asked where I was, and they said, he left.
Apparently, that really incensed my father, because he questioned them about how long, and where, I had gone. They didnt know where Id gone, and could only say he left a while ago. Dad told Justin and Jason to stay with Mom and Jonathon, and went looking for me.
As he was walking across the grounds, headed back towards our campsite, he spotted a long, lean figure in orange shorts and white t-shirt, way off in the distance across the grounds. I was still facing towards the public telephones, talking. Dad strode deliberately across and over to me, but I didnt hear or see him coming.
Dont envy me, man. Im bored outta my mind. We do the same things over and over, day after day, Andy. Id give anything to get outta this place, and be back home with you guys. Ive spent more time baby-sitting my brothers, cause my Dad insists on it. You know how bossy my Dad is anyway, and this year hes even . . . Aaaaaaaaah! Ouch! Aaaaaaaah! Aaaaaah! Owww!
Dad was infuriated that I had left my brothers and run off, and then to overhear my impertinent complaining. That was it. He walked quickly and quietly right up behind me, and began swatting the seat of my baggy orange shorts with his powerful, hard hand. I jumped with surprise and the jolts that jarred my behind and my brain.
Get off the phone this instant, Jared, he commanded.
Jared! Whats wrong?! Whats happening there? Is that your Dad? Jared?
I could hear Andys interrogation from the receiver. I quickly tried to improvise a reason to hang up. Ah, Andy, ah, . . . look, aaaaaah! Uh-somethings happening, . . . I gotta go. Aaaummmph! Ah, Ill talk to you later, . . . Aaaaaaaaaah! Dad continued delivering solid, hard swats to the seat of my shorts, and I quickly tossed the receiver back onto the pay telephone.
As I turned to face him, Dad grabbed my left arm tightly with his steely left hand, and twisting it behind me, bent me over before him.
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
He immediately conveyed his anger and displeasure with my behavior by the firm , rapid-fire repetition of his hand against my butt -- which was beginning to heat-up and hurt. At once I was petrified and embarrassed. I was terrified at the thought of getting another spanking from my father -- especially at my age and status -- and I hated the display he made of me by doing it out in public.
Okay, Okay, Dad! I spoke up. Once again I tried to pull away from him, but his grip was steadfast. Listen, Dad, . . . Aaaaaaum! I know youre mad . . . Aaaah! But its not what you think! Oooo! Ow-aaum! I can explain! Ouch! Owwchaa! Owwww! And, anyway . . . Uuumphaaaa! Not out here, Dad! Owwch! Im almost 20, Dad! Ow! OW! Dad, stop! Ow! Aaaaah! Dad! Ow! Im a college student . . . ow! Ow! Ahhh-yumaaah! For cryn out loud! Ow! OW! Yowww! I tried to bargain an end to his swats -- or at least a ceasefire, until we were out of the public eye.
Dad was in no mood to negotiate. You want to go back to the RV? Fine, young man! Ill take you back there, and well see how much you like what you get there. But dont you ever tell me not to discipline you, Jared -- or youll be get it even more often! Understand me, son?
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
Yes, Dad. Im sorry, Dad, but . . .
WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
He marched me away from the phone banks, across the park towards our campsite, all the while pummeling the backside of my orange shorts.
Youre my son. WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
And youre living in our house, . . . WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
Using our money to go to school, . . . WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
Benefitting from the many things we do for you, and to help you . . .
WHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMPWHAUMP!
With that he accelerated the spanking to my behind.
And yet, youre devious, . . . WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
Disobedient, . . . WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
And defiant! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP!
He continued trudging me forward towards where the RV was set up, while heating up my seat with machine-like swats. Outraged and mortified for my father to be treating me like this again in public, I was also aware of the mounting discomfort to my stinging, smarting bottom. I kept my head and eyes down, to avoid looking around and seeing anybody who might be watching. But I also avoided resisting or arguing back to my Dad, cause I sure didnt want another bare-ended spanking session out in public
As we walked down the road to our campsite, some guys in a passing truck called out, Tame his britches, Doc. I flushed crimson as we walked on, past the Linders campsite.
Hi, Doc. Wheres the family? they called out.
Theyre down at the festival grounds. Jared and I need to have a little talk, Dad explained, never releasing my arm as he pushed me forward. Then, as we reached our RV, Dad pelted the smoldering seat of my orange shorts -- WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! WHAUMP! -- and barked, Wait right there, Jared, till I unlock the RV.
What else could I do but stand still, awaiting my doom. Dad unlocked the door of the RV, then ordered me in. Slowly, steadily, I walked up the steps into the RV. The windows were open to cool out the travel home while we were away. Dad firmly closed the door and locked it, then turned to stare at me. I could see the indignation and disapproval in his dark, greenish-brown eyes.
You want to tell me what you were doing all the way over by the phone banks, talking on the phone long-distance, and leaving your brothers by themselves, Jared?! Dad spoke directly and sternly.
Ah, Dad, I know how it looks. But, uh! . . . ah, I can explain . . .
I doubt that, Jared. How can you explain flat out disobeying what I told you?
Well, ah . . .
Well, nothing. Get over here, Jared -- NOW! Im really fed up with you thinking you can just ignore what we tell you, and do what you want regardless of what youre told. Then, when youre caught, you try to wheedle and weasel some lame excuse for your disobedience. Weve never allowed that before, and were sure not going to do it now, regardless of whether youre in college or how old you are.
He stood right in front of me, issuing the lecture and the warning. Frankly, Jared, your attitude has been asking for -- and needing -- a good, sound spanking for awhile now. Well, youve earned it today, boy! he declared.
I hated being called a boy, when I was about to go into my junior year of college. I gulped, and spoke up. Aw, Dad. Cmon, this isnt necessary. After all, Im not a little kid, you know.
Then why do you continue to behave like a recalcitrant, headstrong brat? The only way to deal with a rebellious brat is to adjust his attitude through the overturned seat of his pants.
Look, Dad. Im sorry. It wont happen again. But I dont need this. I dont. Honest. Foolishly, at the same time, I started taking steps away, trying to distance myself from my father. That was a mistake.
Reaching out, he took an iron hold of my left arm again. Overpowering my resistance, he steered me over to the living room area. Reaching out, he took down the wooden fraternity paddle with which I was long familiar, and he sat down on one of the built-in sofas. Then, jerking me off my feet, he yanked me suddenly over his knees, bobbling me so that my face ground into the upholstery, and my arms were stretched over his left leg.
Nooooo, Dad! Please! Im sorry! I began pleading, promising, and begging as soon as I was sprawled across his lap. Ill be good, Dad! Please! Dont spank me. Dad! Please dont spank me! Ill be good. I promise! I wont disobey again! I promise! Ooooh, Dad, listen! Please! Dont spank me. Dont spank me. Ill do what you tell me. I promise! I promise! In an instant I regretted my behavior and words.
With lightning-like speed, he grabbed the waist of my shorts, snatching them off my buttocks and things, pulling them down my legs to my flipflops and ankles. He pulled my t-shirt up my back to my neck and shoulders. Encircling my waist with his left arm, he held me in place, my butt poised for the licking to begin.
Oooooo-aaaa! Noooooooo! Pleeeez! I shrieked, realizing Dad wasnt buying my pleas and vows, and a horrible, bare-bottomed spanking was in store.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
Whewwwaaaah! Without a moments pause or hesitation, the hardwood paddle thundered down again, and again, and again, against my already sore and sensitive, and now-bare behind. During my forced walk back to the RV, Dad had already administered more than a hundred spanks to my thinly clad rearend. Now, he was tanning my backside a deep, hot, dark red.
From deep inside me, tears quickly surged up to flood and overflow my eyes. All at once, I collapsed and began sobbing, heaving and wailing, as the pain of my punishment combined with the humiliation of once more being spanked at my age. It had taken only a minute or two to break me into a squalling, bawling, naughty kid whose bottom was being punished.
"D-Dad-uh-augh! Uh-I-uh-oooo-uh-aw! Aw! Awaaaaa! P-pleeez! Oooo-uh-waaa! Ooo-owowoww! S-stop! Oooo-uh-owowoweee! Uh-D-Dad-uh! Aah-awaaaah! P-pleeez! Uh-I'm-uh-uh-s-sorrreeeeeeee! Oooo-augh-n-nooo-uh-m-moooor! Aah! Ah-uh-haugh- awaaaah! Uh! N-noooo! It-uh-h-hurtzz! Augh-oooo! Stop! Uh-ow-uh-ow-ow-ow! Waaa!
I kicked and bucked, twisted, writhed, and wriggled, wildly and furiously all over Dads lap, trying to get off, trying to get away -- to no avail. He had me secured across his knees.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
He paddled on and on, as I howled on and on. My flipflops flew off across the room, and my shorts followed them. Gasping and gagging in my howling tears and pleas, I was also sweating profusely, even though nearly naked. The flames torching my rearend were making me lightheaded, almost dizzy. As his fiery fraternity paddle danced all over my bare bottom and thighs, I could only yowl and wail.
Uh-uh-yoweee! Ooo-uh-aiugh-uh! Okay-okay-okay! Im-uh! sss-sorry I was uh! b-bad! I-was-uh-uh! baaaaad! Ooo-ah-yeeoww! Uh-uh-I-know! Uh! Oooo-uh-n-noooo-uh-moooor! Aw-ah-waaaa-uh-aaaah! Uh-uh-n-never! Never! Uh-ah-gain! Oooo-aw-waaaaa-uh! D-Dad-uh! Nooo-uh-waaaa! Dad! Pleeez! Stopit! Stopit! Waaaa-uh-Daaaa-deeeee! Awaaaaaaa! Imsorry! Imsorry! Ooooo-aw-waaaah! Ahm-uh-sorreeeeee! Oooeeeyow-uh-ooooo-ah-waaaaa! Aw-wa-aw-wa-waaaaaaah!"
WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK!! WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHAAAACK!! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACKWHACKWHACK! WHACK! WHAACK! WHAAACK!!
This blistering assault went on and on, seemingly without end. Finally, I surrendered, hanging resignedly over my fathers knees. He did not relent, or lessen the lesson he intended, but continued the never-ending spanking, blistering my behind to an incredibly hot, painful fire. I could no longer speak, struggling as I was to breath while shrieking.
I did not realize when it was over. I continued to scream and wail while dangling over his lap, still in his grasp. As my sobbing began subsiding and I began regaining some composure, Dad gently reached down, lifted me up, and sat me back down on his knees. I felt like a small, chastened little boy sitting there, but my butt hurt so bad when it touched his legs that I winced aloud. Automatically, I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned against his chest, sobbing again. As he held me on his lap, he lectured me again.
Jared, Jared. This is ridiculous. Youve already gotten more spankings this summer than in the last 4 or 5. This shouldnt be happening. But its up to you, young man. You start listening, and remembering that you are to do what youre told, and to refrain from doing what your forbidden -- in short, obeying, -- and this wont have to happen to you again. But if you keep going the way you have been, youll end up over my knees a lot more.
Then he stood me up, and I doubled over, grabbing my smoldering behind, still weeping and whimpering from the pain and shame of another spanking from my father at my age. Get your shorts and put them back on, Jared, and go in the bathroom and wash the tears off your face.
Stiffly, I straightened and walked over, tenderly bent over, and picked up my shorts. I was reluctant to pull them back up over my trounced bottom, so I carried them with me, stepping barefoot into the bathroom.
In the mirror I saw first my red, tear streaked eyes and face, and my tousled hair. Then, turning around and looking over my shoulder, I observed my deep, dark, reddish-purple behind that had been pummeled by Dads paddle. I lightly applied a wet, cold washcloth to my branded buttocks, softly groaning and moaning in agony. Then I softly dried my bottom, and painfully bent over and pulled my shorts so gingerly up over my tortured behind. The way my rearend was throbbing, I knew I couldnt sit very long on anything. With a lot more humility, I walked out of the bathroom to rejoin my father in the living room area.
Okay, Jared, lets walk back down to the grounds to join Mom and the boys. Dad directed, as he unlocked the door and opened it.
But, Dad, I dont want to go down there. Let me just stay here -- in my bed. Im too sore -- and embarrassed -- to go back down there. And I sure cant sit down. Please, Dad.
I could see the pique in my fathers face and eyes. Youre already giving me more opposition and noncompliance again, Jared, -- and so soon after just getting a good sound spanking for the same attitude. Come over here, young man! he barked.
He closed the door again, strode over and yanked my arm, dragging me with him back to the living room sofa. Sitting back down, he jerked me off my feet, landing down once again draped over his lap. In seconds, he had my shorts back down to my knees, and was swiftly and fiercely smacking my abused, bare bottom with his sturdy hand.
SMACKSMACMSMACKSMACKSMACK! SMACKSMACKSMACK! SMACKSMACMSMACKSMACKSMACK! SMACKSMACMSMACKSMACKSMACK! SMACKSMACMSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACKSMACMSMACKSMACKSMACK! SMAAACK! SMAAACK! SMAAACK! SMAAACK! SMAAACK! SMAAACK! SMAAAACK!
I was screaming again immediately. Nooooo-Dad! Ooooo-uh-ow-ow-OWWW! Nooo-uh! Aieeyah-awaaa! Ooooaaah! Notagain! Notagain! Uh! Ooo-ooo-ow! Ow! OW! OW! Uh! Icant- takeit! Augh-uh! Ow! Cant-takeit! EEYOWW! AWAAAA-uh! WAAAAA! WAAAA! Augh-uh! AWA-AWA-WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
In just a matter of minutes, I had been thoroughly spanked again, was squalling, and was back on my feet, standing before my father. This time, he himself pulled my shorts brusquely back up over my battered behind, as I jumped and howled, jumped and howled, in place. My eyes were spouting tears down my face. My hair was once again disheveled. I sobbed, holding my butt, but also trying to stop so my face and eyes could dry. Why was his - how could this be -- happening to me at this age and stage of my life? I was beside myself with disgrace and remorse.
Then, without any more to say, Dad took me by the arm, still whimpering and sniffling, and led me out of the RV. I waited next to him as he locked it again, then walked closely along with him. I kept my head and eyes down, to avoid seeing the Linders, or anybody else, who had to know what had just happened.
By the time we had gotten back down to the lodge grounds, Mom and my brothers were anxiously waiting for us. They came running up.
Where did you go, Jared? We were worried -- and especially with you leaving the twins alone, after Dad told you to stay with them.
He knows what he did, -- and what to expect if he does something like that again, Dear. Right, Jared?
Y-yes, Dad, . . . I mean, yes, sir, Dad. My voice still sounded sniffling and unsteady, after all the screaming and begging I had done.
Oh, oh, Jared. Did Daddy spank you again? young Jonathon spoke up distinctly.
I flinched at the question, sensing eyes looking over at us. See, Dad, I whispered. This is why I didnt want to come down here, I whined.
Youve got the wrong focus, Jared. You behave and obey, and you wont have any occurrences to be self-conscious about people hearing or knowing about. If you stay out of trouble, you have nothing to be concerned about or to hide. Otherwise, you take the consequences -- all the consequences. Understand?
But, Dad, it isnt fair . . . I started to complain. Dad cut me short.
Whats not fair, Jared! Is it fair for a young man your age to act up, over and over, disregarding what we tell you, and expect to get away with it? And then complain about the punishment you brought on yourself -- and deserve?! So, knock it off, and stop whining.
But, Dad, . . . I tried again. This time his exasperation with me was obvious.
Im not going to speak to you again, Jared. Do we need to walk back to the RV for yet another little talk? Or maybe you would like to have it right here? Straighten up and be quiet, or youll have another reason to complain and whine. he ordered.
I knew better than to argue any more. O-ok, y-yes, sir. Reluctantly, I followed them down to the tables for dinner. It was excruciating torment for me to sit during dinner, but I knew better than to fail to cooperate -- or Id be in even more and worse misery. I couldnt wait for the evenings musical festivities and fireworks to be over, so we could go back to the RV and I could stretch out on my stomach on my bed.
We finally moved on from that campground after another, embarrassing two weeks. We traveled up into northwestern Quebec province, to a campground set in a wilderness surrounding an icy lake. Nights and early mornings were frosty, and mid-days were delightful, blue-skied and sunny, in the 60's or low 70's. It was exhilarating.
We all enjoyed another month of escape from the torrid, humid, Alabama summertime, and away from the hectic pace of life we would soon return to at college and home. There were more Canadians, less Americans, there, and overall fewer campers, for which I was grateful, since I managed to get myself a couple more severe spankings before we left there – and then another one on the way home. They are still another story, however.