The three friends huddled closer,
their initial hesitation giving way to curiosity.
The pungent aroma of alcohol filled the air as Kevin uncorked the bottle. It smelled grown-up, forbidden.
They exchanged nervous glances, a silent agreement forming.
Nobody said a word, yet the air vibrated with a shared sense of daring.
Kevin, with a theatrical flourish, poured a small amount into three chipped mugs,
the only vessels they could find.
The whiskey, dark and mysterious, looked strangely out of place in their childish mugs.
It was a rainy day and I was playing ping-pong with a couple of neighbourhood girls, Tarnia and Angela.
Tarnia had found a bottle of whisky and wanted to experiment with drinking – we all took turns sipping from the bottle. Tarnia was pretty good at ping pong, as she would usually win when she played the neighbourhood kids.
I sat on the sofa, as we decided the girls would play first and I would play the winner. Tarnia had a short dress on (this was 1971) while Angela wore shorts and a blouse. I positioned myself on the sofa
Tarnia and Angela were competitive. Tarnia challenged Angela to a ‘two out of three’ – the bet was a dollar and the loser would get 25 paddles on the bottom.
I couldn’t believe my ears – it was apparent that the effects of the alcohol were getting to Tarnia. I was secretly fascinated and gave both girls some more whisky, as Angela’s parents would not be home for another two hours.
Tarnia won the first game (although it was close) and she started to taunt Angela, saying: “Get ready to lose – you’re in for a good paddling, girl!” The second game was also close – this time, Angela managed to win and tie the series up.
In the third game, Tarnia had a four-point lead but Angela managed to come back and tie the game. Angela then offered Tarnia the chance to call the bet off. But she refused, saying: “We have a bet – I am not backing out.”
Then, Angela scored the next two shots to win the tiebreaker.
Tarnia looked bewildered as Angela celebrated. She tried to back out of her ordeal but neither Angela or myself would let her. Angela, now acting as the disciplinarian, told Tarnia to bend over. She reluctantly bent over the ping pong table.
Angela then paddled her a few times with the paddle, ignoring the girl’s childish complaints. The paddle was wooden, smooth, and had a satisfying weight to it. Each swat echoed through the room, mixing with the sound of rain outside.
Tarnia’s reaction was immediate. She yelped with each strike, her face contorting in a mix of surprise and discomfort. Angela continued giving her the spanking, her movements deliberate and firm.
We were treated to an exciting show of foot-hopping. Tarnia’s legs kicked out involuntarily, her hands gripping the edge of the table. Upon completion of the spanking, Tarnia rubbed her sore bottom, her eyes watering slightly.
