You may have heard it said that every good boy deserves favour. Well good for him, he should get just that. I wish him all the joy in the world. But girls, it must be pointed out, are not like boys at all. It is scientific fact that whilst boys may be made of slugs, snails and the tails of young dogs, girls are made of altogether more refined ingredients. It is not a simple case of chromosomes (X and Y) as scientists would have us believe. Girls are, like many men have long suspected, a totally different species.

Sugar, spice and all things nice is what we are told little girls are made of. These are however raw ingredients and may be used to make a whole range of dishes. Many of these will be delightful. Any man who has returned home exhausted to his favourite meal or who has had his shoulders rubbed or who has felt the gentle comfort of a feminine listening ear will testify that girls can be sweet as cherry pie.

So when they are in their natural state most girls are good. Girls want to make people whom they care for happy since this makes girls happy too. As well, girls like to be hugged and comforted; to be told that they have been seen being good, and to be adored and cared for. Girls like these things a great deal and without them they would wither. But, again as men have long suspected, some girls need more than comfort from a man.

Being a good girl should be a reward in itself but we all know that it is not.

A girl needs to know that the man she adheres to, that she listens to, the man to whom she looks up can – when the mood strikes him – take her breath away with his words, his intent, and sometimes his actions. If a girl knows this it is so much easier to be good. This is the bit that some men understand, that some men work towards, and that some men totally ignore.

There is also a special type of girl who needs to be inspired sometimes by her man, a girl who knows that what she needs on occasion is (and I blush to write this) a scolding.

Now to be completely honest I have to admit that in real life I am unable even to say the word. I can try to form it with my mouth but the sound never comes through. This inaction of my vocal cords affirms that it is not a word to be uttered by people like me. My fingers allow me to consider it with you, however, and so I will.

Let me identify terms before I say any more. A scolding is a definition, a warning, a promise, a declaration, and an enthrallment.

And let us clarify roles; one can scold, the other can be scolded. The very act of observing another’s behaviour, acts, motivation or intent and then describing these aloud is an act of possession, of authority. The act of scolding says that one person may scold, and the other must make a choice right at that moment. These are only words; the scolded party can turn away and then the words need not penetrate. I have to tell you that there are some people whom I would love to see make an attempt to scold me. I would wipe the floor with these people, with joy and a flourish. Their mouths would become dry; they would stutter and their words would fail, like candles in the rain. I would smile at their silence and at the hiss when their lights dripped into darkness.

But if one chooses to accept the scolding then one accepts the role, and there are a very, very few people whom I respect and trust enough to allow, maybe, should the need ever occur, maybe just a little … to scold me. My compliance at these times is a compliment like no other.

A scolding is a warning, a warning that one is being observed. The scolder is stating that not only can he see and describe what the scolded is doing but also there is the implication (at the very least) that the scolding is merely a prelude to what may follow. A scolding, done well, is just as bad as anything that comes after, and yet if not done at all can consign any physical act to mere play, the resort of a man who cannot allow for a meeting of minds and who has to settle for a mere meeting of flesh. I like to play in many, many areas of my life, but not in this matter, that is so close to the core of me.

A scolding is a promise of care, of interest, of observation – an “I see you” that can be whispered or murmured or stated. It tells of more to come, either now or in the future, and it is not for a casual acquaintance. It may contain a warning that makes one quiet and stay very, very still. But it is always a promise.

Scolding is a declaration of intent from the scolder: “Not only do I see but I consider it my business to take you to task on this issue.” To me this is an intimate act, as intimate as the lowering of undergarments, and at times more intimate than a spanking. To scold well one must observe with great care the effects of one’s words; one must see into the will and the intent in the mind of the scolded. To even start a proper scolding one is stating intent to get personal and intense.

I suspect that not everyone understands the power of a scolding, the vocal address that is the mental undress, which takes time, patience and wit. I would not let a man anywhere near the core of me who did not have this skill but I have had nights where I was kept awake, enthralled with the fear of it.

A scolding is seldom needed however. We girls, for all our play, are good people; we may brat a little or a lot but we do try to be good. Sometimes we feel such goodness all the way through, but other times we do not and we must begin the pretence of goodness. It is quite easy to fake. We are good at this pretence and may be left unnoticed for some time, and then the raw ingredients of sugar and spice and all things nice can become a terrifying concoction if left to ferment.

Girls can smile while they seethe with unexpressed rage; they can turn up on time looking immaculate having just done something that should be illegal in any decent country; they can speak with such utter politeness that a foreign dignitary would sign a treaty with them whilst knowing that their words hide barbs that would fell the most primeval beast.

For some of girls, being good may only ever be either a disguise or a temporary illusion caused by exhaustion or exasperation. It may be a guise they wear in hopes that one day it will turn out to be true. It may be a mask worn in fear of never being seen for who they really are, for fear that if they were really seen then the truth of them would act as a deterrent.

I can meet a spanking with bratting, with wit or rage or humour. But a scolding will stop me in my tracks; it can silence me in a moment. I am unable to meet its eyes. I would like to offer it my hand to hold so that I can feel comfort, to see if I can soften it, but I still can only look at the floor. It is a kiss, more intimate, more considered, more meaningful, more intense than any other.

A scolding can be so intense that it burns into one’s brain, or it can be brief and vital. It can be a moment of acknowledgment, an investment for both parties.

“I see you.”

“I know.”

For me a scolding can save me from myself, from others, from the loneliness of adulthood. It is human touch unlike the rest. It frees me, allows me to feel safe enough to return to play and to humour. It lets me know that I will not be rejected for being a brat and that I am acceptable and accepted. Although if you ask me if I need a scolding I will lie every time, and if you come to find me with a scolding on your tongue I will never be where you left me just a moment before.

So gentlemen, when you see your girl there, being quiet, doing the right thing and working hard, then do right by her. Show her that you notice her, whisper in her ear and tell her all the things that you know will keep her being a good girl. Scold her just a little. Allow her to be good. It might well be that this is all the encouragement she needs to astound you in far more fascinating ways.