My indignation turned to horror as I watched my aunt’s face change from mere anger to absolute rage. “Stay there!” she yelled at Jimmy. She bundled me into the kitchen, holding me by the upper arm in a vice-like grip while with the other hand she extracted a wooden spoon from the ceramic pitcher on the stove. I was shaking now. “No!” I cried, really panicking. I grabbed the back of the kitchen chair to struggle away, trying to explain what my mother had told me, but I only managed to pull the chair out from the table, essentially helping my aunt to do something she was already planning to do herself. When I realized that she was pulling the chair out further, prior to sitting down on it to give me a spanking, I scissored the other way and tried to go limp, falling from her grip. Unfortunately for me, I was a lot smaller than her and she was a tall, strong woman of Norse stock, so there was little in the way of actual resistance. Once my aunt had sat down, she put me easily over her lap and began to smack the seat of my bottom with her spoon –

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