As I watched, my heart racing, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There, in the middle of the Board of Correction, two middle-aged men were bent over, their pants around their ankles, exposing their bare bottoms. Three women stood before them, one holding a wooden punishment paddle, while the other two watched intently.
The woman with the paddle stepped forward, her eyes narrowed in determination. She took a deep breath, raised the paddle high above her head, and brought it down with a loud crack against the first man’s behind. He yelped in pain, his body tensing as the sting of the paddle echoed through the room.
Without hesitation, she brought the paddle down again, and again, each blow causing the man to jump and cry out. The two other women watched, their expressions a mix of shock, excitement, and curiosity. They whispered to each other, pointing and gesturing at the man’s reddening bottom.
Finishing the first man’s punishment she moved on to the second, who braced himself for the inevitable. His punishment was no less severe, each blow causing him to grunt and squirm in pain. The women watched, enraptured by the spectacle, as the paddle brought first one man, then the other, to tears.
When the punishments were finished, the men, still sobbing, were allowed to pull up their pants and leave the room, their bottoms stinging with the reminder of their wrongdoings. The women stood there, still in shock, still buzzing with excitement, wondering what it would be like to be on the receiving end of that paddle.
The Board of Correction was a strange place, but one thing was for sure, it was effective in enforcing order and discipline. The two men had learned their lesson, and the women had a newfound appreciation for the power and authority of the paddle and I was next in line.
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