When I was younger, I had a babysitter called Mrs. Kent. She sat many children in my neighborhood – working parents used her because she did not charge much, but everyone knew that she was strict and gave spankings on a regular basis. I witnessed her spank a little girl over her knee and from that point on, I was usually well behaved. I was terrified of spankings as a child – I rarely got spanked at home. One day, instead of reporting to her house, I played after school till well after 4 pm. As I was walking back to her house, I knew I would probably get spanked but I wasn’t sure. When I was almost at the front door, Mrs. Kent opened it and asked: “Where have you been, young man?” I replied: “I’m sorry, Mrs. Kent.” In the 70s, you did not use adult’s first names. Mrs. Kent gave me a stern look, walked up to me, took me by the arm, and said: “You come with me.” She led me into the dining room, sat down on an armless chair, and positioned me to her right. I was already crying when she put me over her knee ans immediately she started spanking my  bottom. I think I received around 15-20 spanks. Afterward, I had to wait in the bedroom until my mom picked me up. I begged my mom not to let Mrs. Kent babysit me anymore and my mom got so tired of my whining that she almost gave me another spanking that night. Mrs. Kent ended up spanking me one more time, about nine months later, and once again I was taken into the dining room, except for some reason she did not spank my bottom as hard as she had before.  I think maybe because I was spanked for talking back and that was not serious enough to warrant a really hard bottom spanking