“Daniel Richardson, you behave yourself or I’ll come over there and give you a good spanking in front of everyone.”. Or she might say: “Daniel Richardson, if you don’t watch out, I’m going to send you to Mrs Wiseman’s office for a good spanking.
By now, it should be clear why such words were both frightening and the sweetest music to my ears. Since Monica couldn’t make good on her threats, I could enjoy them as wonderful possibilities rather than painful realities. There was always a delicious uncertainty, a faint possibility that Mrs Wiseman would be sick one day or too busy and would allow Monica to handle the discipline for some other reason. Again it was the sense of possibility which was so appealing. The mere fact that such threats came from an older high school girl more than strong enough to carry out them out also gave them added power. So did the firmness in her voice which suggested she would have put me over her knee in an instant had this been allowed. On a few occasions when I had been roughhousing near her, Monica had swiftly grabbed my arm, smacked my clothed bottom once, and warned me I was about to learn a very sound lesson if I kept it up. Later, I endlessly replayed the feeling of her strong grip and the impact of her hand and extended the imaginary drama into a full-blown spanking in front of the others.