Everyone was horrified and gave me a filthy look. After the visitors left, Auntie told me to go upstairs and get ready for bed because I was a very bad boy. I ran upstairs when I heard Auntie summon me back downstairs.
I immediately obeyed and ran down the two flights of steps. Uncle John, her husband, yelled at me: “Stop running in the house! You’ll hurt yourself!”
Auntie was in the kitchen cleaning up – she ordered me to sit down. She told me: “Eddie, I love you very much and consider you one of my own, but you were a very naughty boy to have been so disrespectful to Aunt Rosie. Uncle John and all the other children are really shocked at what a bad boy you were.”
She took me by the hand and saying ‘let’s go’, she marched me into the living room, where everyone else was watching TV, including Uncle John. He regularly spanked his own boys but he was generally very kind to me and took me bowling and golfing. However, I knew he had told Auntie many times that she was too lenient with me compared with the other children. I think this must have been on Auntie’s mind when she decided to take the course of action she now did.
She walked me into the living room to her easy chair in the corner. Patty and Joseph were sitting on the sofa, Uncle John was in the other easy chair and Johnny was lying on his stomach in front of the TV. I didn’t know what was coming and I was very nervous.
Then Auntie put me firmly across her lap – I was shocked and let out a screech. She adjusted me so that my legs, shoulders and my bottom were exactly where she wanted them. I was facing Uncle John, away from Joseph and Patty. Johnny was to my side on the floor and all eyes were on me. I think this was a big surprise to them as well. Johnny sat up and faced me and his mother. Auntie told the boys turn off the TV, and they obeyed.
(pause) The room seemed to shrink around me, the air thick with anticipation and embarrassment. I could feel the rough fabric of Auntie’s skirt against my cheek, the scratchy upholstery of her old armchair pressing into my knees. My heart hammered in my chest, and my face burned with shame as I realized everyone was watching. The silence was heavy, broken only by the faint ticking of the mantel clock and the distant crackle of the coal fire. I held my breath, my body tense and rigid, every muscle bracing for what was to come.
(short pause) Auntie’s hands were strong and steady as she gripped mine, her fingers warm but unyielding. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out Johnny’s eager gaze and the curious stares of the others. My mind raced with regret and fear, wishing I could take back my words to Aunt Rosie, wishing I could disappear into the floorboards. I cried out, “I’m sorry, Aunt Gracie!” My voice trembled, thick with tears. She replied softly but firmly, “I know you are, honey – but you have to pay for what you did.”
(pause) The first smack landed with a sharp, echoing sound, startling me more than it hurt. But Auntie was determined, and each successive spank grew harder, the sting building and spreading across my bottom. The pain was hot and immediate, radiating outward in waves that made my eyes water. I could feel the heat intensifying, my skin prickling and burning beneath the thin fabric of my underpants. The humiliation of being punished in front of everyone was almost worse than the pain itself. I bit my lip, trying not to sob, but the tears came anyway, hot and silent.
(pause) Auntie kept a firm hold on my hands, her grip both comforting and inescapable. The rhythm of her spanking was relentless, each smack punctuated by the sound of my own muffled cries and the occasional gasp from the others in the room. The coal fire’s warmth seemed to mock the fire on my skin, and the musty scent of lavender polish mixed with the sharp tang of my own fear. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly powerless, my world reduced to the sting of Auntie’s hand and the weight of everyone’s eyes.
(pause) As the spanking continued, the pain became a dull, throbbing ache, spreading across my whole bottom until it felt like I was sitting on a bed of hot coals. My legs kicked involuntarily, but Auntie held me fast, determined to see the lesson through. I lost track of how many times her hand came down, each smack blurring into the next. The shame and pain mingled together, leaving me feeling small and chastened.
(pause) Finally, Auntie stopped. My bottom was on fire, and I could barely catch my breath. She let me up gently, her face softening as she saw my tears. She rubbed my back and comforted me, her voice soothing as she said, “Eddie, remember this for next time.” I stood there, sniffling, my cheeks wet and my pride wounded. Auntie showed me her own hand, red and sore from the effort, a silent testament to her resolve.
(short pause) She told me to be a good boy and watch TV, so I shuffled over to Johnny and lay on the floor next to him, grateful that I didn’t have to sit down. The carpet felt rough against my stomach, but it was a relief compared to the burning on my backside. Uncle John looked satisfied, but the other children watched me with wide, sympathetic eyes. Auntie declared, “The show is now over,” and everyone slowly returned to their activities, though the air still felt heavy with what had just happened.
(pause) In that moment, I felt a strange mix of emotions: shame, relief, and a lingering sense of love. Auntie’s discipline was harsh, but it was never cruel. She made sure I knew I was forgiven, hugging me tightly before bed and kissing me longer than she did Johnny. Her embrace was warm and reassuring, a silent promise that I was still loved, even after my punishment.
(pause) Lying in bed that night, my bottom still throbbing, I replayed the scene over and over in my mind. The sting of Auntie’s hand, the embarrassment of being punished in front of everyone, the comfort of her hug afterward—it all swirled together in a confusing storm of feelings. Johnny teased me gently, but I could tell he felt sorry for me too. I turned away, not wanting to talk, and drifted off to sleep with the ache still fresh.
(pause) Looking back now, I realize how much that moment shaped me. The pain faded quickly, but the lesson lingered. Auntie’s spanking was more than just punishment—it was a reminder of boundaries, respect, and the complicated ways love and discipline can intertwine. In hindsight, I sometimes wish she had punished me in private, sparing me the humiliation. But I also understand why she did it the way she did. She wanted everyone to know that I was held to the same standard as her own children, that love sometimes means doing the hard thing, even when it hurts both of you.
The next day, my parents came to take me back home. Auntie informed them there had been a spanking and Mom was actually mad at Auntie for disciplining me, as she didn’t like Rosie much either. She told Auntie she had been wrong to spank me for my remark, but Auntie retorted that while I was staying at her house, I was effectively her child and she was in charge of me.
By contrast, Dad had no problem with it at all. Auntie had spanked him when he was younger (she was 12 years older than him) and he felt that if it was good enough for him, it was good enough for me.
