In a quiet little town, not far from the rolling green fields, lived a boy named Bobby and his dearest friend, Betty, who lived just next door. They had been companions since they were very small, and their days were filled with laughter and adventure.
Both Bobby and Betty came from families who believed that a firm hand was necessary to teach children right from wrong. When either of them misbehaved, they would be summoned privately to receive a sound spanking, never in public, and seldom within earshot of others. Yet, their older sisters, Margaret and Dorothy, who were four years their senior and now considered too old for such discipline, would often tease them about their punishments, making the children blush with embarrassment.
Bobby’s mother was a strict but loving woman, and when Bobby was naughty, she would take him over her knee and deliver a proper spanking. It had been some years since Bobby had last been punished in this way, but the memory of those stinging lessons remained with him, as did Betty’s memories of her own.
Sometimes, Bobby and Betty would play a game called ‘house’. One would pretend to be the parent, and the other the child. The ‘parent’ would scold the ‘child’ for some small mischief, and then, as was proper, the ‘child’ would be placed over the ‘parent’s’ knee and given a few gentle smacks, just as they had seen at home.
The spankings in their game were always over their clothes, and the ‘parent’ would give three or four brisk smacks to the ‘child’s’ bottom. The ‘child’ would pretend to cry and promise to be good, and the ‘parent’ would comfort them, saying that all was forgiven.
As time went on, the game became a little more serious. The smacks grew a little firmer, and Bobby found himself wishing that Betty would give him a real spanking, just as his mother had done. He longed for her to see that he was still a little boy who needed to be taught a lesson, and afterwards, to be comforted and told that all was well.
Betty, who was growing more mature with each passing day, seemed to understand the importance of discipline. The adults in their lives began to treat her as almost one of their own, while Bobby still felt very much a child.
One summer’s day, when their sisters were away at camp and their parents had gone out for the evening, Betty was left in charge as Bobby’s babysitter. Bobby did not mind, for he was glad to spend time with his friend, though he felt a little embarrassed when his mother reminded him to be good and to listen to his babysitter.
That evening, they watched a little television and enjoyed some sweets. Then Bobby asked if they might play ‘house’ again, and Betty agreed. Bobby decided that he would be the ‘child’ and Betty the ‘mother’, and he resolved to make the game as real as possible.
As they played, Bobby suddenly stopped and asked Betty if she could keep a secret. Betty promised that she could, her eyes shining with curiosity. Bobby told her that he had done something very wrong, and that he felt terribly guilty.
He led her upstairs to his bedroom, opened his desk drawer, and showed her his report card. At first, Betty saw nothing amiss, but when she looked more closely, she gasped. Bobby had changed one of his marks!
“Oh, Bobby!” cried Betty, her face grave. “Do you know how serious this is? You must be punished, for you have been very naughty indeed.”
Bobby hung his head in shame. He felt very small and very sorry. Betty told him to wait in his room while she decided what must be done.
Bobby, knowing what was to come, changed into his pyjamas and waited, his heart thumping. Soon, Betty returned, carrying a sturdy wooden hairbrush and a high-backed chair. She placed the chair in the centre of the room and sat down, smoothing her skirt.
The hairbrush Betty held was a most formidable object. Its handle was made of polished wood, gleaming in the soft light, and it felt cool and heavy in her hand. The bristles were stiff and cold, set firmly into the broad back, and the whole brush had a reassuring weight, as though it had been made for serious business. Bobby’s eyes widened as he saw it, and a shiver ran down his spine. This was not the sort of hairbrush used for play, but the very one his mother had used for proper punishments.
“Come here, Bobby,” Betty said, her voice gentle but firm. Bobby stood before her, his hands trembling and his eyes already brimming with tears. He could feel his heart beating faster and faster, and a dreadful fear crept over him as he realised that this would not be a playful spanking, but a real and proper one. Betty stroked his hair and told him that, though she must punish him, she would still be his friend.
With a steady hand, Betty guided Bobby over her knee. He lay across her lap, his face pressed into the cool fabric of her skirt, his bottom raised and waiting. The room was very quiet, and Bobby could hear the ticking of the clock and the sound of his own breathing. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for what was to come.
Betty lifted the hairbrush, feeling its weight in her hand, and brought it down smartly upon Bobby’s bottom. The sound rang out—CRACK!—sharp and clear in the stillness. Bobby gasped, the sting biting through his pyjamas. Again the hairbrush fell—CRACK!—and again, each smack a little firmer than the last. Bobby’s legs kicked and he let out a small cry, but Betty did not falter. She knew that a proper punishment must be memorable, and so she continued, counting each smack in her mind.
“One… two… three…” The hairbrush rose and fell, each time leaving a hot, tingling sting. Bobby’s bottom grew sorer and sorer, and soon he could not help but sob. “Four… five… six…” The sound echoed in the quiet room, and Bobby’s tears began to flow in earnest. “Seven… eight… nine…” His hands gripped the chair legs, and he promised in a trembling voice to be good, but Betty pressed on. “Ten… eleven… twelve!” The final smack was the hardest of all, and Bobby cried out, his cheeks wet with tears and his heart full of remorse.
When the last smack had fallen, Betty set down the hairbrush and gently helped Bobby to his feet. His bottom was very sore and his face was streaked with tears, but he knew in his heart that he had deserved every bit of his punishment.
Betty hugged him and told him that all was forgiven, and that he must never do such a thing again. Bobby promised, through his tears, that he would always be honest from that day forward.
And so, in that little town, Bobby learned a very important lesson about honesty and the value of a firm but loving hand. He and Betty remained the best of friends, and though he never forgot the sting of the hairbrush, he was grateful for the lesson it had taught him.
For in those days, children knew that when they did wrong, a sound spanking was not only deserved, but necessary, and that afterwards, all would be forgiven and the world would be right once more.
