When she was finally done, Mom made me stand up. She held me by my shoulders and looked me right in the eye. “Eddie, I love you very much and never want you to do anything like this again. If you are sick or hurt, you must tell me.” “OK mommy,” I replied. I’m not sure why I used the juvenile word for my mother at that point – I probably felt like a little boy from the spanking and humiliation of the treatment.
Mom pulled me into her arms and hugged me. I looked over in the mirror and was able to see my bright, beet red spanked butt. I understood exactly why I got spanked. I’m not going to say it didn’t hurt, because it did. But it didn’t bother me at all. In fact, I really felt the love in it.
Mom got up and walked over to her dresser. She got out a tube of her own skin lotion, and said: “Turn around – this will make you feel better.”