I think I would have to call you into the “den,” where you would stand in front of me while I lectured you. I would be sitting on a straight-backed chair. Next, I would tell you that I was about to pull down your pants and spank you on your bare bottom. I’d tell you to put your hands on your head while I unbuckled your belt and drew it completely out of its belt loops. “You’re going to feel that in a few minutes, young man,” I’d say. I would undo your pants, lower them, and then yank your shorts right down too, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.
“All right. Get over my lap, now,” I’d say. “You’re getting spanked, and I’m not stopping until I’m satisfied you’ve learned your lesson!”
If you protested or were in any way disobedient, I would make you stand up and face the corner while I went and grabbed the thick wooden bath brush from the bathroom. A taste of that would convince you pretty quickly not to act up again. And then we’d resume your walloping across my knee. Every smack would sting. It would be nothing like you imagined; it would not be pleasant at all. I might have to grab you around the waist to hold you in place, but I would keep going … 200 spanks … 300 … maybe even 400.
Your poor bottom would be beet red and glowing and you would be very relieved when I finally stopped. But we would not be done. I would make you stand in the corner again, tell you again to think about your actions and why you are getting punished. Then I would just make you stand there and wait. I might read a book or check emails during this time, but you would not be allowed to rub or otherwise move.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you would hear me moving around behind you. I would grab your ear and pull you back into the middle of the room, back to the chair.
“Bend over the back of the chair. Now!” I would snap. I would still sound angry. Maybe I would be a little angry. You would soon be getting the belt, your own leather belt. You would watch as I doubled it over and moved into position behind you.
“I don’t know how many I’m going to give you,” I would say. “Like I said earlier, the punishment will continue until I am satisfied you’ve learned.”
You might protest at that point that you have learned, but I would just say, “Be quiet. I’ll be the judge of that.”
And the belt would fly down for the first time against your bare bottom, and I’d watch as you jumped at the pain and realized just how serious I was.
How’s that sound?