I prepared myself praying Felipe was not doing as I had done and watching me in my humiliation.
I also realized something; Those pyjamas would not have given much protection against the thick spoon.
I felt sick with nerves, as I climbed onto the sofa and lowered my stomach onto the chair arms.
I noted that this position was, at least, more comfortable than standing on my feet, bent over the kitchen table.
“Five minutes of this should clean out your mouth,” she said grimly.
The spoon struck my left buttock, then my right.
The first blows were not really painful.
But after about 90 seconds, every inch of my bottom had been smacked and the blows continued to rain down.
The strokes on flesh that had already been hit hurt a lot, yet still they continued as if another layer of paint had to be applied.
At last, I cried out in pain, something I’d never done while being slippered.