"I was fourteen or fifteen and I lied about going to a friend's house. I sneaked out with an older boy who'd just gotten his driver's license. The police stopped the boy for speeding and called my parents. I was scared to death and knew there would be hell to pay."

"What happened?"

"Both of my parents sat me down in the living room. My father said, 'Sarah Jeanne, you deserve a good spanking.' They looked at each other, and for a minute I thought I was going to get it and my heart was in my throat! It had been a long time since I'd been spanked and I considered myself grownup. Just the thought of it; the humiliation, scared me to death! But they decided a spanking was inappropriate for my age."

"You were still frightened of the prospect of a spanking, as a teenager?"

"Frightened is the wrong word; more dreading the embarrassment of it than the pain. I was afraid my friends might learn about it and I'd never be able to hold my head up again!"

"How did they punish you?"

"I was grounded, for thirty days, if I remember right. I was probably denied going to some school functions as well."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Miserable. Awful. It wasn't that I didn't deserve it; I knew I did. It was how long the stupid punishment dragged out. I felt like a leper in my own house, for a month. At least with a spanking, regardless of how bad it was . . . and believe me, it was awful . . . when it was over, it was over."

"Closure." He nodded his head, as if finally agreeing with me. "You said, 'two instances.' What was the other time? Were you actually spanked once more after what you said was the last time?"

"No. I screwed up again; okay? I didn't get punished as a result of it; let's leave it at that."

"You should have been punished and you weren't?" I reluctantly nodded. "I think we should discuss. . . ."

"Look, you asked about spanking and I told you. I'm not going discuss my later miss deeds. It's ancient history. Let's leave it alone." I arose as our time was up.

"Stay seated," he said. "I don't have another appointment, and I think we're making progress."

I was glad he thought so. I couldn't even see the tunnel, much less the light at the end. "As long as we're not on time-and-a-half," I answered.

Thankfully, he moved to a different subject. "Why do you suppose your parents were so committed to corporal punishment? From what you said, it was very difficult for them to carry it out. Was it a religious thing?"




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