Lori often came over to babysit me, sometimes three or four times a week. Mother and father often went out at night to be alone and left me in her care.

Because I never received much attention from my mother and father, I would sometimes act like a brat just to get Lori’s attention when she was over. For several months, the worst I ever got in retribution was a scolding. I continued to step further and further from the bounds of good behavior, openly flaunting my disdain for Lori’s ‘rules’. “I don’t care what you say, Lori,” I would often say. “You are not my mother!”

One evening, I threw the garbage from the trash can all over the kitchen floor. Lori entered quickly following the commotion and threw up her hands.

“That’s it, young man!” she hissed in low tones. “I may not be your mother, Michael, but maybe it’s time I acted like I was!” She stepped quickly across the kitchen and seized me by the elbow. “Hey!” I protested. She yanked me forward, towards the dining room. “You’ll come with me, young man! I’ve had enough of that bratty behavior!”

Lori pulled me into the dining room with one hand and pulled out a dining chair, placing it beside her and sitting down, then pulling me down along with her so that I was over her lap in an instant.

“Hey!” I protested again, suddenly aware of what she intended. “You can’t spank me!” “Oh yes I can, Michael,” she growled, smacking down her hand on my backside while I wriggled.

Before I could even adjust myself, she was spanking away on my bottom with her powerful palm. I squirmed and wriggled some more until she pushed me further down over her knee, grabbed my hands and held them behind my back.

“This is what happens to naughty boys when they misbehave!” she began, smacking her palm down again and again on my quickly warming cheeks. “They get a spanking on their naughty bottom!” Smack, smack, smack! “Do you understand, young man?” My poor bottom was burning more and more with each sharp spank of her palm across my bare bottom.

“Yes!” I tried to yell through my shouts of pain. “I’ll be a good boy!” But Lori seemed insistent that she give me a sound spanking I wouldn’t soon forget. After a short time, each repetitious smack of her palm on my bottom cheeks brought a short shout of pain from my lips. I began to try and kick my legs, but Lori’s leg held me firmly.

I wanted it to stop! “Stop spanking me!” I shouted. “Ow ow ow!” “Have you learned your lesson, young man?” she demanded, applying another half dozen spanks while she waited for my reply. “Yes!” was my tearful, howling response. “I’ll be a good boy!”

Finally, Lori’s palm rested. “If I have to take you over my knee again Michael, I will use the hairbrush from my purse to give you such a spanking you won’t sit down all night! Do you understand me, young man?” I sniffled my understanding.

She pulled me back up to my feet and told me to go and stand in the corner until my parents came home and they could see what a naughty boy I had been.

Afterward that memorable episode, I made sure to behave when Lori was around!