I had the grace to blush slightly and mumbled something like: “Don’t know.”
“Well,” Mrs Newman said, confirming my worst fear,
“it’s a smacked bottom for you, I think.
Bend over my knee.”
Now with slightly wobbly legs, I obeyed.
Mrs Newman began to smack my bottom hard and rhythmically.
I gave a few little yelps and gasps at the first few smacks,
but as the friction on my bottom became too much to bear,
I found myself dissolving into full-blown tears.
Mrs Newman smacked much harder than my mum did when I earned it at home,
the spanking went on for quite some time.
Just when I thought it would never end,