were dancing. "That's for being a nasty little girl." Before she could reply I gave her another open-handed swat on the behind, harder this time. "OW! Jonathan, what're you...stop it!" It was perfect—she couldn't tell that the stinging blows she was receiving were completely hidden from the dancers around us. She must have thought everyone was watching me spank her while we danced. Her lips were compressed with anger and when she spoke it was through clenched teeth: "I said, not here!" I said, "All right then, come on," and, grabbing her by the arm led her out of the crowd of dancers and onto the sidewalk behind the flatbed truck. She struggled to free herself from my grip as I dragged her along—but not hard enough to draw attention to herself. From the