After I was let up off her knee, I stood there bawling for a few minutes, then went to pull my undies up. Mom landed another painful slap across my behind, this time with the palm of her hand, and said: “Oh no you don’t, mister! You just go over to the dressing table mirror and look at your backside. I want you to remember what a naughty boy’s bottom looks like!”
I did as I was told and was horrified to see that my bottom was red, almost purple, from the paddling I had just been given. The Teacher had made his point all right! Finally, she stripped me and packed me off to bed early.
Visits to The Teacher continued into our early teens for both of us.