I quaked as I had before in his office, though now I had all the more reason, seeing that there was, lying on a table next to him, a thick wooden ruler and a hard spanking paddle with a business end nearly as large as a Ping-Pong paddle.
“Corporal punishment, how long has it been?” he went straight to the point.
“Since I was a child.”
“How old were you the last time?”
“I think fourteen.”
“And for what reason were you punished?”
“Drinking.” I remembered the occasion well when my father caught me with the smell of bourbon on my breath.
“And how did he punish you?”
“With his belt.”
“Doubled?”
“Yes. Daddy always doubled the leather and held it firmly in his hefty fist—I’ll never forget the picture.”
“On your naked ass, I assume?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Over his lap?”
“No, over the back of
