As in "You go to that corner right now Missy!"
And suddenly I had a vivid memory of a spanking I got for rolling my eyes when I was a girl. My mom almost always called me Missy when she was punishing me. That was close to a sure fire way of knowing that I was getting my butt spanked, hearing that word coming from my Mom's normally soft voice.
When I had just turned 15, I was going through kind of a bratty stage and she had warned me a lot about rolling my eyes at her. That day I had just done it again, probably for no good reason, and she gave me several hard swats over my pajama bottoms and told me that if I did it again I'd be in for a real spanking. Obviously, that would have been a good time not to roll my eyes.
But what do I do right then? Roll my eyes again! I really didn't mean to. I'll bet I hold the world record for the girl who has gotten the biggest number of totally preventable spankings. Someone call Guinness :)
I don't think Mom could believe I disobeyed her like that immediately after she told me to stop rolling my eyes.
Cue the Missy. I think it was something like:
"Alright Missy, we'll do it your way. You stay right there and we'll sort this out with the brush."
I instantly begged her not to. "Please Mom, I'm sorry, please don't spank me," but she had already made up her mind and came back a moment later carrying the dreaded oval wooden hairbrush. We were in my room and I knew that soon my dad and brother would be hearing my screams and pleas. It was so embarrassing.
She shut the door, sat down on the bed, and demanded I turn over her lap.
Already crying, I positioned myself over her lap, and she started giving me quick hard swats with the brush.
SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP
Each swat stung really bad, and I was crying for real, but I was also really glad that my pants were still up. Dad's whippings were much worse. Still, she was going at a fast pace, and soon it became really bad. I started crying louder and begging her to stop. I got my wish, but not quite in the way I had in mind.
"Alright Missy, stand up now and pull down those pants."
"NOOOOO, please Mom let me keep them up."
"I said now Missy!"
I stood up and slowly pulled down the pajama bottoms, She just gave me a stern look while I stood there. I knew what she wanted, but couldn't bring myself to do it.
"Young lady, if you do not pull down those panties this minute, I'm going to make it a lot worse."
Sobbing at full volume, I slowly pulled down my panties, knowing how bad she could make it if I disappointed her.
Mom nodded in approval and pulled me back over her lap. The first spank on the bare had me howling. It was far from my first time at the rodeo, but for some reason I still couldn't believe the pain. I'm sure that it left a bright red oval mark on my butt. I screamed loudly. While I was still processing the pain, the next swat landed and I screamed even louder. It was terrible. She quickly found her rhythm and gave me one hard spank every couple of seconds.
I yelled so loudly and pleaded with her to stop, but she kept spanking. On and on her strict discipline went, ignoring my loud bawling.
She then pulled the same trick that Tom does so often. Just when I thought I couldn't take any more and it was slowing down, she started right back up ... this time on my upper thighs!
I went into absolute hysterics, bawling at the top of my lungs, while she punished that super-sensitive region.
SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT
This phase of the spanking was unbearably bad, I still remember today how miserable I was. Nothing stings and burns as bad as an angry mother slapping your upper thighs over and over with a hairbrush!
Then she gave me at least a dozen more, alternating between butt and thighs, while I just sobbed brokenly over her lap. Of course, when I had no resistance left she stopped punishing me, and instead leaned down and hugged me.
After I had some time to compose myself, she softly touched hair that had fallen on my tear-stained face and said, "I'm sorry I had to do that Katie, but you needed to learn a good lesson about respect. I don't think you'll be rolling your eyes at me again. Do you understand?"
I said "Yes" through my tears and hugged her desperately.
Tom and I have haven't told anyone in our families about domestic discipline, But maybe I'll tell my mom. I think she would be supportive of something that had strengthened our marriage so much. She might smile, too, knowing that I still had someone to keep my in line when my bratty side came out :)