gap: 1s) When I was growing up in New York City, everything seemed large and noisy and exciting. The streets were always full of people, and you could smell delicious food like fried chicken and greens coming from the windows. All the children played outside until the streetlights turned on, and we laughed so much that our stomachs hurt.
(short pause) In my family, if you did something wrong, you would get in trouble. My mother had a large, intimidating leather belt. When she took it out of the drawer, it made a loud snap! That sound made me freeze in place. My best friend James lived just down the street. His mother and grandmother were very strict as well. We always joked about who received the most spankings that week. Sometimes we even compared who had the reddest bottom!
(pause) One Saturday, James and I wanted to do something exciting. So we sneaked away to the movies! The theater was dark and cool, and the popcorn smelled wonderful. We watched two entire movies and completely lost track of time. When the lights came on, we realized it was far past the time we were supposed to be home. Oh no!
(pause) Suddenly, a bright flashlight shone right in our faces. It was the usher, and behind him were our mothers! They looked extremely angry, with their arms crossed and their eyes narrowed. I felt my face become hot, and James whispered, “We are in so much trouble.”
(short pause) Walking out of the theater, I felt like a balloon about to burst. I was frightened, but also a little embarrassed. I always thought James’s mother was rather nice. She was large and soft and always smelled pleasant, like flowers and powder. Sometimes she would joke, “If you do not behave, I will spank you myself!” and I would turn as red as a tomato. It was both funny and frightening at the same time.
(pause) That night, our mothers said we needed a “real lesson.” James’s mother said, “If you boys cannot listen to your own mothers, perhaps you will learn from each other’s!” My mother nodded, but I saw her trying not to smile.
(pause) We walked to James’s house with our heads lowered. The living room was dark except for one lamp. Our mothers took out two large belts. My hands were shaking as I removed my shoes. James looked at me and made a silly face, but I could tell he was frightened as well.
(pause) James’s mother had a huge, dark brown belt with a shiny buckle. She held it like a snake, and it made a loud slap when she hit her hand with it. My mother’s belt was thinner and reddish-brown, with a silver buckle. I remembered how it left little red lines that stung for a long time.
(pause) “Come here, young man,” James’s mother said, patting her lap. Her voice was gentle, but I knew she was serious. My heart was beating so loudly I thought it would jump out. She pulled me over her lap, and her arms were strong but gentle. Her dress felt cool, and I could smell her sweet perfume. She held me tightly, and then—whack!—the belt came down.
(pause) The first smack was so loud and stinging! I cried out, and my eyes filled with tears. The belt was heavy and made my bottom feel like it was burning. Every time it hit, it hurt more, and I tried to be brave, but I could not help crying. My face was pressed into her dress, and I could smell her powder. She kept saying, “You will remember this next time, won’t you?” I felt so embarrassed and sad, but when she finished, she hugged me and rubbed my back. “It is over now, dear. You are safe,” she whispered. I cried and hugged her, feeling a little better.
(pause) But the spanking was far from quick. Each swat from James’s mother’s belt landed with a sharp, echoing crack that seemed to fill the whole room. The sting built up, layer upon layer, until my skin felt hot and swollen. I could feel the rough texture of her dress against my cheek, and the scent of her perfume mixed with the sharp smell of leather. My legs kicked helplessly, and I gripped the fabric of her skirt, trying to hold on to something solid as the pain grew. Tears streamed down my face, and my sobs grew louder with each smack. She paused only to ask, “Are you learning your lesson?” and then the belt would come down again, making me jump and cry out. My embarrassment was as fierce as the pain, knowing James and my mother were watching. When it finally ended, my bottom throbbed and burned, and I could barely catch my breath. But James’s mother gathered me up, holding me close, her arms warm and soft, and she rocked me gently until my crying slowed.
(pause) I could hear James crying as well. My mother was spanking him with her belt. Hers was lighter, but it made a sharp, whistling sound. James was squirming and sobbing, and my mother kept saying, “You know better, James.” The room was filled with the sound of belts and crying, and it smelled like leather.
(pause) Watching James’s turn was almost as hard as enduring my own. My mother sat up straight and called him over. He looked very sad, but she pulled him over her lap and began spanking him with her belt. Each stroke was quick and sharp, the belt whistling through the air before it landed with a snap. James’s legs kicked and his hands flew back, but my mother gently moved them aside and continued. His cries grew louder, echoing off the walls, and his face was red and wet with tears. My mother’s face was stern, but I could see the sadness in her eyes as she did what she felt she had to do. When she finished, she set the belt aside and hugged James tightly, stroking his hair and whispering, “It’s all right, it’s over now.” The room was quiet except for our sniffles, and our mothers looked at each other as if they understood.
(pause) The spanking felt as if it lasted forever! My bottom was burning, and I could hear James becoming quieter as he ran out of tears. When it was finally over, my mother picked me up and rocked me in her lap. “It is all right, dear,” she said softly. I hid my face in her shoulder, and the pain began to fade. James’s mother did the same for him, hugging him and stroking his hair.
(pause) Later, when everything was calm, James and I sat on the porch steps. The night air felt cool on our sore bottoms. “Did it hurt?” James whispered. I nodded, and we both giggled a little. Then James said, “Sometimes I wondered what it would be like if your mother spanked me.” I stared at him, surprised, and we both laughed. I suppose we both had silly thoughts sometimes.
(pause) Now that I am older, I think our mothers knew we were simply being children. Perhaps they even thought it was amusing. I remember hearing them laugh in the kitchen that night. My mother said, “Next time, we will just swap boys from the start!” and James’s mother laughed very loudly.
(pause) Even though my bottom hurt for days, that spanking became a funny story for me and James. We would whisper about it and make silly faces, and it made us behave (at least for a little while). But it also made us feel as if we shared a big, secret adventure—one only best friends could have.
