“Taylor,” her timid voice calls out to me, “Taylor…I’ve called your mom. She told me to tell you that you ought to come out and wait for her in the kitchen.”

I know I should listen. I know. I should make this easier on myself while I still can, and yet my feet just stick to the floor. I close my eyes and pretend I am not here. I am not a 14-year-old boy just minutes away from a humiliating spanking.

That’s the thing I don’t understand about myself. Standing here in front of the mirror with my eyes closed, I know I am going to get one. The last thing I want is to be spanked and yet somehow I know it is going to happen. I’m not even hanging onto hope anymore…I am just certain that will be my punishment. And I don’t do anything about it. Why? Why the hell not?

Well, I can’t come out because I refuse to listen to her- even if she’s speaking for my mother. To unlock the door and walk out into the kitchen means that I’m obeying this 17 year old babysitter who…who I could date for Christ’s sake! She wasn’t even supposed to be watching me today…

My plan for today had been decided the night before and I fell asleep excited for the time I’d spend with my friends today. I was supposed to meet Josh to go rollerblading and then his Mom was going to take us to see a movie. We hadn’t decided what yet. But when Mom discovered that my side of the room was a huge mess, she banished me to the house to clean my room and finish my homework. She told me that I could not go out for the day because I should have done it all earlier. I was so angry with her! I was only going to be home for a week before we were back on the road promoting, and all I wanted was to see my friends. Even worse, my mother told me she was going out to lunch with friends from church and the girl from down the street would be watching me and my younger siblings.

I protested and argued that she could come over and watch the little ones, but she most certainly could not watch me. I am 14! Mom said my babyish attitude proved that I needed to be babysat just the same as them.

When Caroline arrived at the door I opened it, raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at her, and went immediately to my room. It’s not that I hate Caroline, or even dislike her. It’s just that I hate being babysat. I am convinced I am the only teenager in the world who has a babysitter.

Mom peeked her head into my room before she left and said, “I want this room spotless and your homework finished and on the counter by the time I get home. Then we’ll talk.”

“Okay,” I responded immediately, only I was already thinking about being disobedient.

It was very clear that Mom meant I needed to do chores and homework and then wait for her to get home. But I began to wonder if perhaps I could pretend I thought she meant it would be okay for me to go out once everything was done. That was a perfect excuse, I finally decided. I began to clean as fast as I could. I organized my drawers, filled my hamper, and vacuumed the entire floor. Then I sat down and finished my agonizingly difficult geometry homework. I hate proofs.

Within an hour, I was completely finished with everything. I tried to convince myself that maybe my Mom did mean that I could leave when I was finished, and it made it easier to walk into the kitchen with my chin high.

“I’m going out,” I nodded at Caroline who was doing play dough at the table with Mackenzie, Avery, and Jessica. I set my homework down on the counter and I slipped my shoes on.

“I am just going to call my friend and tell him I’m walking to his house now. My chores are done,” I reached for the phone.

Caroline stepped in front of me though.

“What are you doing?” I began to panic, “My mom said to get everything done and I did. Do you want to check my room?”

“Your mom told me you were supposed to stay home until she got back,” she explained.

I bit my tongue and thought carefully, “Well…you must have misunderstood. I was told to clean my bedroom, which I did, and finish my math homework,” I nodded at it, “Which it is.”

“She didn’t tell me that…” Caroline said a bit confused.

“I promise, she did. Alright? I’ll be back….”

She shook her head and took my arm. I shook to get it off of me. I didn’t want her holding me there like I was a child!

“My mom said I could go!” I lied right to her. I couldn’t believe myself at first.

“Well, I don’t agree. So I’m telling you that you can’t,” she stood strong.

“I don’t have to listen to you! I’m practically taller than you!” I shouted even louder, “Just don’t talk to me, okay?”

I pushed past her and picked up the phone, dialing the numbers in a frantic hurry. I realized I was getting myself into an even deeper mess. Not only was I leaving the house, but I was now screaming at the babysitter. Great.

“Hello?” Josh’s mom picked up.

“Hi, this is Taylor. Can you tell Josh that I’ll be there in like…10 minutes?”

I heard a click of the phone and looked up to see Caroline on the cordless. I swear I felt my blood boil.

“Hi, this is Taylor’s babysitter…he won’t be coming down today. I told him he couldn’t,” Caroline explained.

I had no words for her. I couldn’t even speak to Josh’s mom. I could not even believe she was doing that to me…I couldn’t believe her. What nerve…

“Oh…okay, I understand. I’ll let Josh know,” his mother spoke, “Taylor…behave yourself for your babysitter…”

“She’s not my babysitter!” I shouted, slamming the phone down and running for the stairs. I tripped on the way up which only made the tears begin to fall not because of hurt, but because of shame. When I reached my room I slammed the door and collapsed onto my bed trying not to cry.

A moment later, there was a knock.

“Go away!” I shouted at the door, “I hate you and I’ll be sure to tell my mother you’re never allowed here again! You don’t even know what my mother said!”

I had actually convinced myself that my mother would approve of me leaving the house.

“Taylor…” she said as she opened the door. Again, what nerve! Opening my door without permission?

“Stop!” I screamed at her, sitting up in my bed. I didn’t know where all my anger was coming from, but I couldn’t help but scream whatever came to mind first, “I said go away! I didn’t tell you to open my door!”

“Can you settle down?” She finally yelled back.

I sat there and glared at her.

“I understand that you’re mad…but you have to understand that I’m going by what your mother told me. Do you want us to call her cell phone?”

“Why don’t we?” I snapped, raising my eyes at her suggestively, “Go ahead and call her. She’ll tell you.”

What was I saying? My mother would not tell Caroline that I was allowed to leave, and my mother would not approve of my present behavior! I guess I didn’t actually think she would call…

Caroline looked down at the phone in her hand and began to type the digits off of the note my mother had left.

In utter disbelief and fear, I sprung from my feet and ran for the bathroom door. I slammed it and locked it and finally sunk down on the bathroom door. This was my sanctuary. It was the only place with a lock, and the only place I had true privacy. I listened carefully to Caroline talking on the phone to my mom, but I couldn’t make out any words. I can only imagine what she was saying about me though…

And that’s how I ended up here, staring at myself in the mirror and hating what I see, listening to Caroline tell me to come out since my mom was coming home.

“Taylor…” she adds, “I really think if you come out everything will be better…”

Did she know how much trouble I was in? Could she even imagine how I was going to be punished for this? How did she have any clue about the situation I was in.

I walk over to the door and begin to kick it out of anger. I literally can’t help myself.

“Shut (kick) up! (kick) Don’t talk to me! (Kick),” I shout through the wood.

I hate her for not just nodding and letting me go. If only I could have just gone I could have convinced my mom just how innocent and confused I was about her directions. I never meant to disobey, I would explain. Now it is completely clear just how disobedient I am being.

“You’re only going to get yourself into more trouble…your mom sounded very angry…” She continues.

I freeze. Fuck.

“I don’t believe my parents are paying you to watch a DOOR. Go downstairs, leave me alone, and watch my little brothers and sisters! Do your job right!” I scream in fury, “Go (kick) away. Go (kick) away.”

Tears spring to my eyes. I don’t even know who I am right now. This is not me…I am not usually this angry…

I sink to the floor and lean against the wall, closing my eyes. I feel a combination of fear of being punished, and fear of my mother knowing just how horrible a person I’ve become. I want to go back in time and not be at all manipulative. I want to have stopped myself the moment I was told no. I want to get up, walk out, and wait in the kitchen for my mom like I’ve been told. I know I will be better off for it, but I just can’t.

Caroline must have gone downstairs, because she isn’t talking to me anymore. All I can think about for the next 10 minutes is about all of my transgressions. How could I have screwed up something so simple, staying home and behaving, so badly. It’s not like my parents even asked much of me! I was simply told to behave myself, and I couldn’t even do that.

I hear Caroline’s voice again outside the door, “Taylor, I think your mother just pulled in. Do you want to come out and wait in the kitchen like she asked? I think it might be best…”

“I think I’ve made it quite clear that I don’t want to talk to you! So stop talking to me!” I shout back. It’s like it’s some other disobedient boy yelling- not me. I gasp at him in disbelief.

“Taylor…I think you should stop yelling…” she continues. I can’t figure out why she is still talking. Haven’t I made it quite clear I want nothing to do with her? Let me sulk in peace, you bitch! I can’t believe I just thought that…

“Do you feel a bit more calm now?”

“No!” I shout back, picking up the container of bubble bath and hauling it at the door, “I feel even more pissed that you’re still talking! Do you ever shut up?”

“Jordan Taylor Hanson! Open this door right now!”

Mom…

“Do you hear me?”

Of course I hear her…but I can’t reply. I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t. I try to stand up and unlock the door, but I just am frozen. For the first time, it hits me just how much trouble I’m in. The number one transgression in my family is treating other people poorly, and that is exactly what I’ve done. I frantically try to imagine all the things she can punish me for…there are too many to count…

“Taylor!” Her voice is bitter.

I am too scared though. I am not ready to face her. I can’t get the courage up yet.

“No!” I shout back and the tears begin to fall again just knowing how I’m speaking to my mother, “I won’t come out! I won’t come out because I am so angry at you! I am so furious for…for…”

I desperately try to think of what I was angry about.

“I am so angry at you for treating me like I’m a goddamn five year old!”

I gasp. I did not just say that. I am a fucking lunatic for saying that out loud…

“And yes, I just said that!” I can’t believe I am still going. I think it is the safety of my sanctuary and the protection of the big, locked door that’s giving me such nerve, “And I don’t care!”

I close my eyes and suck in a bit of air to calm myself.

“I’ll be in the kitchen. Every minute you take to come down here is another five spanks onto what you’re already getting. If you wait an hour, don’t doubt that I won’t spank you for each second. If I have to spank you all week, I will.”

I swallow. I know that procrastination is my enemy now. A part of me wants to wait until Caroline leaves, but who knows how long that could be and how many spanks I could get for that. The other part of me wants to fling the door open right now and wrap my arms around my mom, crying into her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Momma…” I want to tell her and pray that she takes pity on me.

And yet I can just sit there. I glance nervously at my watch. The voices have disappeared. One minute has gone by. I rise to my feet. I need to do this. I need to get up and face my destiny. I move towards the door but I can’t touch the knob. It leads to Mom who’s furious with me. I back away and lean against the counter, bowing my head and closing my eyes. C’mon on Taylor…get yourself moving. Go out and go to the kitchen…c’mon…

I glance at my watch. Now it’s been two minutes. I turn the faucet on and carefully cup some cold water in my hands to try and calm myself down. I’ll just splash some water on my face and transform into the calm, brave, collected Taylor. I wet my face and dry my hands. Three minutes, 15 more swats.

I sway back and forth, rocking my weight from foot to foot. I desperately try to convince myself to open the door, and yet I’m so scared and so stubborn and so ashamed all at once. Finally, I can’t take the waiting anymore. I turn and firmly put my hand on the door knob. In one swift motion, I pull it open and look out. I listen carefully to the chatter of my mother downstairs in the kitchen. Mackenzie’s crying about something.

I glance down at my watch. Four minutes have passed. That’s 20 extra spanks. I better get moving so I can make it downstairs before it’s been five minutes. Bravely, I begin my trek down the stairs. I stop right outside of the kitchen and listen carefully to my mother talking to Caroline.

“He’s never like this…this entire spring he’s been so out of line though. I think it’s the stress of the album and…Mackenzie, don’t pull on my shirt. Go with Avery and Jessica. They’re putting on a movie….”

I swallow and wring my hands out. You can do this, you can do this…get the balls and do it Taylor!

“I’m really sorry you had to deal with it. Like I said though, this isn’t his usual behavior. He’s usually very well mannered…”

I watch Mackenzie appear in front of me. “Go away,” I mouth at him. I point to the living room where the movie is playing. I am not ready to go in there! Don’t blow my cover!

“Taylor,” he points at me, looking at Mom. I want to swear at him. I want to hit him even, but I just shake my head in disappointment. It’s now or never. I step out around the corner and step into the kitchen.

“Go watch the movie…” Mom repeats to him. He continues walking to the living room out of site.

Finally, my Mom’s gaze turns to me and she checks her watch. “Six minutes,” she concludes.

“It’s been five…” I correct. I know because I’ve been watching! I know I’m right! It’s not six! I realize how stupid I sounded though…and how wrong that was for me to do.

“Seven?” Mom questions.

I swallow. She’s not messing around.

She pulls a chair out, “Sit.”

Me? Me sit? I’m not getting spanked…? I hopefully walk over and sit down in the chair she’s pulled out for me.

“I want to know exactly what happened from your point of view,” she steps over me and gazes down on my guilty self.

“Okay…” I begin. Maybe I can save myself after all. Maybe I can twist the truth to make myself look just a bit less guilty…

“Well…when you left I cleaned my room completely. You can check. Everything is spotless and my homework…well see? It’s done.”

Mom doesn’t respond at all.

“And…so…I was going to go to Josh’s…” I begin. Should I lie or should I be honest…should I tell her just how aware I was of my sneakiness, or should I pretend I thought I was in the right. I’m so torn…

“After I told you to wait home for me,” she says loudly. I wince. It sounds so wrong when you put it that way…

“You see…I figured since I did everything you asked of me…”

“I distinctly remember telling you that we would talk when I got home!” She shouts.

“You did…?”

Oh fuck. I cringe as I see her lunging forward. She grabs my shoulder and then stops to calm herself. She backs away. I rarely see my mother almost lose her temper.

“You knew the rules! I made them very clear! And still you tried to lie to Caroline about them so-”

“I wasn’t trying to lie!” I cry.

“You deliberately disobeyed me!”

“Mom!” Tears spring again.

“You deliberately lied to Caroline, shouted at her disrespectfully, stormed off, locked yourself in the bathroom, kicked the door like a two year old!” She shakes her head in disgust, “and then you sit here and try to get away with it all!”

“I’m not trying to get away with it!” I cry. And the truth is I’m not. I’m just trying to make myself not look quite so guilty! There’s only so many things you can own up at once! Doesn’t she know how hard it is to sit there before and tell her I was trying to manipulate the situation to my own benefit? Doesn’t she realize how difficult that is?

“I’m so sorry…” I finally admit as my anger dissolves into tears. I cannot help myself now. I am bawling right there. I am so scared and shameful and…

“Don’t tell me…” she growls at me.

I know exactly what I’m being told to do. I can hardly look at her. Somehow, I find the strength to look up at Caroline, “I’m really sorry…”

I glance at Mom. Good enough? She’s not satisfied.

“Really, I am…” I add, wiping the tears from my face.

“Apparently you’re not sorry enough…” Mom shakes her head sadly, “Get up…”

“No, I am! Caroline! Listen, I!”

Mom is already yanking me up from my spot on the chair though.

She takes my spot instead. I am a dead man. I just stand there and cry pathetically. I feel even more pathetic when she reaches for my jeans and forcefully undoes them, yanking them to my feet where they catch on my sneakers.

“You know what…” she begins.

I can’t believe she’s going to spank me here…I can’t believe she’s going to actually spank me here in front of this 17 year old girl…whatever happened to privacy and dignity and…

She nods at the canister of spoons on the counter, “Grab that wooden spoon. It’s been a long time since you came face to face with it…but I think you need it.”

I continue to cry and pathetically wiggle over to the counter, trying not to trip on my pants. I hand her the spoon and avoid looking at her face.

“Over my knees,” she instructs.

I can’t move.

“Jordan Taylor!”

In an instant I am bent over my mother’s lap crying like a baby and it hasn’t even started. I am just so miserable about the entire day…

As always, the first smack is the worst and the spoon is even worse than her hand. I wince as it slaps my fleshy bottom. I hate the sound even more than the sting. Just knowing that everyone in the house is tuned into the soundtrack for my spanking humiliates me beyond belief….I begin to cry harder as the pain of each additional spank hits me.

Mom doesn’t hold back. She spanks me harder with each smack. I squeeze my eyes closed and ball my hands up, trying to protect the muscles in my body, but the pain in my bottom spreads to pain everywhere. I feel completely and utterly wretched. I keep my eyes closed in order to pretend that Caroline isn’t standing there watching the whole thing too…although I know it serves me right that she is. That’s how I got here…

“Mom…Momma….” I cry in between gasps, “I am so…I won’t act…ow, Momma, that hurts!”

She only makes my stinging bottom sting more though. I wonder if it will ever stop. After about 35 spanks with the spoon, my question is answered. She sets the spoon down on the ground next to her and sighs.

“Get up and apologize to Caroline the right away,” she utters.

I peel myself off of her and shamefully pull my boxers and pants back up. Then, with a tear streaked face and puffy eyes, I look towards Caroline. This time I see a tired and drained girl who was just trying to do her job right…I see the exhaustion in her eyes.

“I’m really…really sorry, Caroline,” I choke out, beginning to cry as soon as I begin speaking again. “Like my Mom said…I’m never like this…I never am…and I don’t know why I behaved the way I did today…I was just so out of line. I’m so sorry I said those horrible things to you and let it get to this…”

She nods and I almost melt in relief.

“It’s okay…” Caroline speaks.

I turn back to Mom. Am I done? Please tell me I’m done….

“Go upstairs and cool down in your room. This was your punishment for not coming out of the bathroom when I told you to. You’ll deal with Dad when he gets home. He’ll give you your punishment for everything else.”

My heart stops. I suppose it was foolish of me to actually believe that my punishment was over considering how much I’d done wrong, but in my frenzied state of mind I didn’t actually think that I’d have to “deal with Dad” later. Oh no…

I nod solemnly at Mom- determined to spend the rest of the night being completely obedient. With a pitiful, sorry look, I simply turn the stairs and climb them. I collapse on my stomach on my bed and rest my cheek against the pillow. I hardly have time to think about anything before I fall asleep.

I open my eyes slowly to the sounds of typing. I look up to see Isaac checking his email on the computer.

“How long was I asleep…?” I finally ask him, rubbing my eyes and sitting up a bit. I had never meant to fall asleep in the first place.

“I don’t know. I just got in here like 15 minutes ago,” he replies but he’s clearly distracted with his email.

I glance at my watch. 5:50. I was asleep for hours!

“Is Dad home?”

“Not yet…” Isaac gives another distracted response.

I sigh and sit up completely, throwing the covers off of my body. I am in for one heck of a night….I get up and painfully walk across the room. My bottom still stings a bit. I dig carefully through my top drawer for a pair of socks.

“But I do know,” Isaac suddenly continues, “When he does get home, which should be any minute, your ass is grass. Literally.”

I cringe and pull a pair of socks onto my cold feet. Just imaging it makes me bottom burn. I lay down on my bed on my stomach again and just sigh. I want to read a book or draw or work on homework or something, but I can’t seem to get myself to. I’m too preoccupied with my thoughts.

Dad arrives home ten minutes later. The worst feeling in the world is hearing the door slam and his steps downstairs. I listen to his steps move from the front door to the kitchen. I hear him set his keys down on the counter and begin listening to Mom. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but I can hear she’s explaining something to him. Oh no…

I almost have a heart attack when the door swings open. It’s Zac eating a few carrot sticks.

“What’s up?” He says as he walks in. He sits down next to me and chomps on his food.

“I’m trying to listen to what Mom is telling Dad…shhh, don’t chew so loud…”

“Want me to go downstairs and find out how mad Dad is for you?”

“Would you?” I squeak out. I almost don’t want to know.

“Sure,” he shrugs. “By the way, I heard Mom spanked you good earlier and she’s STILL furious.”

I sigh.

“Right. Sorry. I won’t remind you. Be right back,” he says, getting up and leaving the room.

I swallow while I wait for him to come back up. Isaac’s fast-paced typing makes me feel all the more anxious for some reason, but I know better than to say anything fresh to him.

After 5 agonizing minutes, Zac returns upstairs with a handful of cucumber slices. Apparently he’s stealing from Mom’s salad. He sits down next to me and sighs.

“Alright, so you want to know what I found out?”

Duh? “Yeah…how bad is it…”

“Really…really bad. You’re dead meat,” he admits. Sometimes it kills me how honest my brother is.

Isaac turns around to listen too.

“Mom told Dad about the whole thing, and apparently Mom knows everything you said to Caroline, and then Dad shook his head and tensed his jaw…you know how he does that?”

“Yes, yes, keep going…”

“Well, Dad did the tense jaw thing and then he said to Mom, well that boy is going to get some sense knocked into him before dinner…and Mom said are you sure you want to ruin his appetite? And Dad said that he would love to.”

I widen my eyes. It’s worst than I thought.

Isaac gives me sorry eyes, “I’m sorry dude…” He thinks for a moment before adding though, “Although, you have been kind of on Mom and Dad’s bad side all week. You had to know this was coming…”

“I don’t even think it’s that,” Zac replies, “I think its really just about today, Tay. Dad couldn’t believe you said those things to Caroline. That’s the part they were most upset about. They just couldn’t believe it.”

And then there it is. The worst feeling in the world. I hear Dad take the first angry step up the stairs. Oh no…this is absolutely the worst feeling ever. It’s worse than the actual spanking. My heart stops beating all together. The three of us glue our eyes to the closed door. Isaac and Zac look just as afraid as me. His steps get louder as they get closer and suddenly I feel two inches tall. I want to just climb under the covers and disappear. I look around frantically for any last minute ideas of how to save myself, and I know that there are none. I need to own up to this. I need to be straight with Dad from the beginning. So much easier said than done…

We all tense up as we hear his hand on the door knob. I’m convinced everyone in the room can hear my pounding heart. In one swift movement, the door swings open and Dad is standing there with his belt in his hand. My heart sinks. I sink down on the bed a bit in fear.

Isaac and Zac immediately look down to the floor. I can tell they’re scared for me. For Dad to use his belt is rare. For him to open the door already armed with it is even worse.

“Taylor,” he speaks. His voice is loud and authoritative. It’s the voice he reserves for punishing us.

“Yes,” I squeak, trying to sit up better to acknowledge him.

He doesn’t say anything to me though. He looks to Zac and Isaac instead. “Do you two want to leave while I punish your brother?”

I can tell they’re frantically trying to figure out what is the right decision. On one hand, the spanking might be less intense if they’re there. On the other hand, they know it’s humiliating to get spanked in front of other people. You feel ridiculous crying and pleading for Dad to stop.

Isaac nods gratefully, “Yeah. C’mon. Let’s go Zac.”

I’m grateful they’re leaving so it’s less embarrassing, but a part of me is scared to see them go. I need them for support.

Zac gets up quickly, gives me an apologetic looks, and allows Isaac to pull him out of the room. I notice they’re both careful to walk far away from Dad. He is the epitome of intimidating standing there with his belt folded in his hand.

I swallow and watch him close the door behind them. His eyes are glued to me. With each second they stay locked with mine, I feel more and more afraid. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more afraid of my father in my life.

“Get up,” he spits at me.

I scramble to my feet and watch him carefully. I feel so vulnerable and tiny before him.

“Take your pants down.”

I don’t hesitate. With shaky fingers, I undo my pants and drop them to the ground.

“Lean over your bed.”

I’m going to do this standing…? I was counting on the comfort of at least having my fathers body supporting me, and now I was supposed to do this standing on my own two feet? I nervously walk over to the bed and bend over, burying my face into the comforter and supporting my body with my elbows. My backside feels so vulnerable like this.

He takes a step closer and my stomach lurches. I can hear the belt swinging at his side.

“What were you thinking?” He voice is icy cold, “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?”

I wince in fear and squeeze my eyes closed.

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?”

“I wasn’t!” I cry out, “I wasn’t thinking Dad…”

“When your mother told me about what you pulled today, I didn’t believe I was hearing about my own son! I raised a son who respects rules, doesn’t try and manipulate, doesn’t hurt people with words…I raised a son who respects authority!”

I nod nervously as he speaks, “I know…”

“What got into you? I want to know! What were you thinking!”

I take a deep breath. I need to answer this. I know I need to answer this. “I really wanted to go and see Josh today…because we’re leaving for the road soon. And so…when…when Mom told me to stay at home and clean, I did it really fast and then tried to convince Caroline that it would be okay if I went out before Mom was home.”

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!”

I recoil again. “I…I was just thinking I could get away with Mom thinking that…that I was just confused about what I was told…I thought maybe I could just get away with it all…and and when Caroline didn’t…didn’t…go along with it…I got angry and then I wasn’t thinking at all from there.”

“And you swore at your mother! You swore at the babysitter! You swore in God’s name too!”

I breathe in a shallow breath of air. I know that is a huge infraction in my household. I remember telling my Mom, “Yes I did just say that and I don’t care.” Oh, how I care now…

“I was so out of line…” I mutter in agony.

“And I can assure you if you ever so much as THINK about acting like this again, I will spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit for two weeks.”

Two weeks?

“Because after this time, you won’t be able to sit for a week. Drop your boxers.”

My body is freaking out. I want to run and cry and hide and protect myself and hug him and do exactly what he says all at once. My mind is racing and my heart is pounding louder by the second. I’m cold and hot all at the same time. I’m tense and yet trembling all at once. Some how I find the courage deep inside to pull down my boxers and let them drop to the floor. I know for a fact this is going to be one of the worst spankings of my life.

It’s painful, literally painful, to listen to Dad situating the leather belt in his hand. Even with my eyes closed, I can see him drawing the belt back and preparing to slap me with it.

I cry out as the first slap hits my bare bottom. It’s worse than I ever could have imagined to be…He doesn’t even give me a moment to recover though. Before I know it, he is striking my bottom with the belt in a steady, quick rhythm. Some hurt more than others…some crack more and sting the most…but they’re all bad. “Dad…” I say through panicked tears, “I am so sorry…Dad…I am so sorry….”

But my apologizing does no good. He just keeps on whipping my tender bottom. I can just hear by his breathing that he’s furious with me.

I try to count the spanks. 12…13…14…but they hurt too much when I count them. I try not to count them. I try to not focus on them, and yet I can’t help it. I frantically search for a spot in my mind that is safe and comforting…and yet the only thing that I can think about is this humiliating position and my raw behind.

It feels like each spank is worse than the one before, but it might just feel that way. I yelp in pain as he begins to slap my upper thighs with the belt. I feel my legs buckle before me as I begin to lower towards the floor. I just don’t think I can stay composed much longer…

“Stand up!” Dad yells at me and I recklessly pull my body up again. I literally shriek in pain as he cracks the belt against my backside.

After what must have been 30 or so spanks with the belt, I hear it fall to the ground. Dad grabs me by the shoulders and turns me around to look at him. He holds my shoulders tightly and shakes me as he speaks.

“I don’t ever want to hear anything like this again! You were raised better than that, Jordan Taylor! And I don’t care how much talent or success you have! The last thing I will see happen is for it to change the person you were raised to be! Do you understand me? Do you understand?”

I nod through glossy eyes. I can’t even see anything. I’m crying too hard.

Dad pulls me into a tight hug and strokes my hair gently as I cling to him. I feel so pathetic and so young. I realize just how little I am…just a little boy trying to pretend to be a big man.

“I feel sick, Dad…” I cry into his shoulder. I feel like I’m drooling onto his shirt.

“You need to breathe…” He instructs. He steps away from me for a second to look at me. My breathing is fast and panicked. I almost begin to feel lightheaded like I’m hyperventilating.

“Taylor…breathe…” his eyes are worried as he holds me up, “Taylor…breathe in…and out…you’re fine now. Your spanking is over…”

I nod to show that I understand him and try to listen to what he said. In…out…in…out…

He sighs in relief as he sees that I’ve begun to control my breathing. He gives me another big hug and pats my back gently. “I’m going to go downstairs…get your pants up, splash some water on your face, and get yourself composed, okay? Come right down for dinner…”

I nod appreciatively and wipe the tears from my eyes. As he picks up his belt and leave the room, I suddenly feel like I can mourn in private. I drop to my knees and cry for a minute- kneeling on the floor next to my bed. I was so stupid! I was so wrong and cocky and stupid! He's right...I was NOT raised like that. I cry out of my own self-disgust. Once I’ve let it all out, I wipe my face again and compose myself like he said. I pull my boxers and pants up onto my stinging bottom and go into the bathroom to rinse my face.

I stare at myself in the same mirror I looked in earlier. The bathroom is still my sanctuary…protecting me from the humiliating walk into the dining room. But the boy looking in the mirror is sorry. He isn’t hostile and his attitude is nothing but submissive. I like this boy better. He looks like me.

I find the same courage I had to find earlier to walk downstairs to the dining room. I know the entire family just heard my horrible spanking, but I have no choice but to obediently join them for dinner. I walk into the room to see them eating which means I’ve missed grace. The room gets silent as I walk in.

I nervously walk around the table to my spot next to Zac and Avery. I try not to wince when I sit down, although it stings.

All my siblings give me sorry looks, and I glance at Mom to see if she’s still angry at me. She doesn’t look it. I find a little voice in the back of my throat and say, “Can someone pass me the salad…?”

No one responds right away. Finally Dad reached for the salad and passes it off to me.

“Thanks…” I whisper and begin to focus on putting salad on my plate. The room is still horrifically silent.

“Guess who I ran into at the gas station today?” Dad finally speaks, “Ike, your old soccer coach! Mr. Madison.”

The entire table turns to Dad and begins responding to his story and a strong appreciation hits me. I suddenly appreciate my father. I appreciate that he cares enough to raise me right. I appreciate that he loves me enough to hug me after I’ve been punished. And most of all, I appreciate that he knows my punishment is over and he’s helping me move on by making it less awkward.

It occurs to me that despite all the punishments and disciplining that he has to do, perhaps my sanctuary is not the upstairs bathroom, but my father. Perhaps parents are the safest sanctuary after all.