
My earliest years passed very pleasantly. My aunt was always kind to me, and though I was kept strictly to my lessons, still, as long as I was attentive and diligent, every indulgence was shown to me. But if, on any occasion, I failed in doing what was required of me, my poor bottom was pretty sure to smart for it.
My aunt always undertook the duty of correcting me herself, and when punishment was to be inflicted I was taken to a small room adjoining her bedroom, where I was placed across her knees. My petticoats were taken up, and a birch rod applied smartly to my naked posteriors.
On these occasions I generally struggled a good deal. I soon fancied that, by tossing myself about and pretending to suffer more than I really did, my aunt's heart was softened, and consequently the stripes inflicted upon me were of a less severe nature than when I lay like a log on her knees, and showed no symptoms of feeling the pain. However this may be, it usually happened that between my struggles and her endeavours to retain me on her knee, her clothes would also be tossed up, and before the conclusion of my punishment her thighs were generally as bare as my own, and I lay with my naked belly and thighs pressed against her naked person.
