Grandma and the cane

Grandma and the cane
by scorpion

It was 1973, and back in those days, which I call the spanking years, corporal punishment could be found everywhere. In schools, at your neighbor’s house, family gatherings, and of course, at home. But not at my home. Well not really that is. Sure my sister and I got the occasional smack on the butt from time to time, but we never received the good old fashioned, over the knee bare bottom spankings like some of our friends told us about. Our parents tried to use the more refined style of discipline, such as being grounded or having privileges taken away instead of the brutality of a spanking. Even though they were both spanked when they were younger. I guess they just thought they were being smarter than the other parents who blistered their kids’ bottoms at the drop of a hat. Who would think this could possibly change my life in such a dramatic way.

It was in my second year in University, when this dramatic event occurred, an event that I will never forget. My two friends, Helen and Jennifer, and I went out on a Saturday night and partied it up, ending up at the beach, where some of our other friends from university had made a bonfire. There was some beer, although I never had any being the good little girl I was. But I was dumb in the fact that I completely lost track of the time. My curfew, which was law at our house, was 11:30pm on weekends, and when I finally arrived home it was almost 1:00am! My parents hit the roof, mom was practically in tears and dad, oh boy, I had never seen him so mad. He started yelling at me about how I worried them, and they thought I was dead or in the hospital, you know they always think the worst. If there had ever been a time in my life where I truly needed to go over someone knee it was now. But did it happen? "Your grounded young lady!" my father growled "For four weeks. You go to uni, and you come straight home, and you stay at home, every single day of the week. Do you understand!!?”

Finally the gravity of the situation hit me. The dance, oh no the dance. I had been planning to go to my campus' final dance of the year, and it was going to be big. Everyone who was anyone was going to that dance. And now I'm supposed to tell my friends I can’t go because I'm being grounded!

The following day, my mother and I went for a visit to my grandma's house. Usually I would have passed at this invitation, especially since we were to help her do some gardening in the back yard, but considering that this might be one of the only times I would be let out of the house for the next four weeks, I graciously accepted. After we had finished the work outside, grandma made us one of one of her delicious home cooked meals. As we ate and talked, the topic of my grounding came up, and I started begging my mother to at least allow me to go to the dance. I also hoped that my grandma, hearing this, would come to my rescue and talk my mother into letting me off, just this one time. Instead, hearing that I had been grounded, she began telling me a story on the type of discipline she used to use on my mother and her two sisters when they broke the rules. And much to mom’s embarrassment, she went on to say that if my mother ever came home two hours past her curfew like I had done, she would have taken a trip over the arm of the sofa, and given six good strokes of the cane on her bare fanny.

"Oh big deal!” I said “six whacks on the butt with a stick and that's it?"  My mother broke in and explained that the "six whacks on the butt" left her unable to sit down for a week, and added that I should consider myself lucky by not getting the cane. Well I wasn’t going to stay quiet on this subject. I told her that I would much rather get the cane, than spend the next four weeks in solitary confinement. It would be great just to get it over with. Grandma chuckled at hearing this and turning to my mom said " Gayle, being grounded for four weeks is a very long time, especially for a 19 year old, why don't you give her the choice of being grounded or getting the cane" and before my mom had a chance to answer, grandma continued, “I'm sure I still have the cane in the basement, and I would be more than happy to do the honors." Mom smiled at me and laughed as she laughed asked, "Now Julie, you wouldn't choose the cane over being grounded would you? I mean really.” I broke in "Yes mother please! Just this one time, please give me the cane; I just have to go to the dance!! Please! Please!! Please!! let me have the cane!" I couldn't believe I was actually begging my mom to allow me to be caned, but what was the big deal, "six strokes" I said to myself. Big deal!

 

 Mom remained silent for a few moments, and I tried to let her think for a bit, but I just had to add another "Please mom!?” Grandma put in her two cents by quietly saying "I would be happy to do the honors Gayle, and I know I still have that cane down in the basement." It was two against one; the odds were in my favor. "Alright, alright, but don't come whining to me when you can't sit down tomorrow young lady." she stated, and I was so happy that I gave her a big hug and a kiss and said, "I promise, oh thank you mother."

While grandma went downstairs to look for the cane, my mother took me into the living room and showed me the sofa, and particularly the sofa arm I would be laying over. "Are you sure you want to go through with this Julie?" she warned "You still have time to change your mind."   "I know mother, but this is something I must do.”I calmly replied.  And after all, how bad could the cane be anyway. Six strokes? My friends used to tell me stories about getting spanked a couple dozen times, and I'm only going to get six strokes? Big deal! Just then I could hear footsteps coming up the stairs from the basement, and few moments later grandma appeared cane in hand.

"Found it!" She boasted, with her always joy full smile on her face. "I had to do some looking, but I knew it was down there someplace." she continued, "Yes, the same cane I used to use on your mother and her sisters!" I stood there and stared at the cane, it was about three feet long, and it didn’t look very heavy, as grandma lightly tapped it on her hand. "This won’t be so bad." I said to myself over and over again, not knowing exactly what I was supposed to do next, but grandma must have been reading my mind. "Well Julie, should we get this over with?" she proclaimed. I swallowed, and as if there was a frog in my throat, I replied “Yes Maam." My mother took a few steps back, but stayed in the room, and I awaited the final instructions from grandma.

"Alright Julie, take down your jeans and bloomers." she said, and I could feel a warm blush begin to fill my face. How humiliating this was. Taking down my pants like a little girl for a spanking, or should I say, a caning. After I had slid my jeans down to my knees, I reached for the waistband on my panties, wishing that I didn't have to take these down too. But I guess that's part of the punishment, and it would be all over with soon. I tugged my panties down, just below my bottom, hoping that this would be far enough, but grandma wasn't going to have any of that.  "C'mon Julie, take them down, take them right down to your knees. “she said. Hesitating, I did as I was told, and then waited for her next order."Now, I want you to lay yourself over the arm of the sofa, and get that little fanny in the air young lady." Immediately I felt my cheeks turn a deeper shade of red. The sofa arm was soft, and it cushioned my tummy, and although I was embarrassed as heck, It almost was comfortable being in this position. Looking to my side, I could see my mother had a slight grin on her face. She seemed very calm and relaxed, since this was not her first caning she was about to witness. My grandma then went to the side of me, took a stance, and asked "Are we ready to begin Julie?"  closing my eyes I replied, " Yes m’ am" and waited for the inevitable to begin. There was silence, and I could feel the cane gently resting on my bare tush, moving slightly, as if she was taking aim.  And then without any further warning ..."Whoosh Cracckk" My eyes were no longer closed, wide open like two dollar coins. The blow from the cane was like nothing I could have possibly imagined, my poor bottom felt like it had just been branded by a coal iron, and I let out an uncontrollable "owwww !"

She paused for about thirty seconds, meanwhile all these thoughts came rushing into my head, "I can't believe this," I said to myself, "I still have five more strokes to go !" But my thoughts were rudely interrupted." Whoosh  Cracckk" as the cane landed for a second time, and another weal made a new home on my butt. "Ohhhh !" I squealed, and I was about to prepare myself for the next blow, when grandma spoke, "Now Julie, are you ever going to stay out late, and violate your curfew again?" she asked. ".. No ma mm" I replied, a slight quiver in my voice. But I was rewarded by the third stroke of the cane, as it whistled through the air and made contact on my already throbbing backside. "Thwack !" This time a very unlady like "grunt" escaped between my clenched teeth. Grandma was definably a pro at this, placing each stoke on my bottom, like an artist painting on a canvas, and I was sure that when she was finished, my butt would surely be a work of art.

 "Only three more to go." I said to myself, my eyes slowly beginning to fill up with tears.  "Sssssh Cracckk" and I cried aloud " Ahhh-haa" unable to keep my mouth shut no matter how hard I tried. Grandma questioned me a second time, “Now Julie, are you ever going to disobey your parents again?" Knowing this was a que for the next stroke, and desperately trying to buy some time for my poor little bottom, I thought I would hesitate for a moment before answering. Bad idea.  "CRAAACKK " This was definitely the hardest blow I had received so far, and I started crying like a baby.”Julie?" her voice firm, "I asked you a question?" There was no pause in my response this time as I replied " No mamm, I promise I'll be good!" and with that said, the six and final stoke was given  "Swisssh  Cracckk " I didn't cry out on the last stoke because I was too busy crying already, my head was spinning, as though this whole episode had lasted an hour, instead of few brief, but painful minutes. I laid there sobbing over the arm of the sofa, knowing my butt probably looked as well striped as a barbershop pole. It was over, finally over, and I felt my mother’s gentle hand on my back, and whispering into my ear she said, "You can stand up now sweetie, you did very well." I stood up and bent over to pull up my panties and jeans, wincing as I slowly slid them over my well punished posterior. Grandma embraced me in a warm hug, and with her big bright smile she said, 

"All is forgiven now Julie, now I hope your mother won't have to send you back to me for another trip over the sofa arm young lady." I couldn't help but to quietly laugh as she said this, and replied, "You don't have to worry about that grandma, I promise you." So all was forgiven, and that weekend

I went to the dance with my friends, Helen and Jennifer. They kept asking me how I managed to talk my parents into letting me go, but I wasn't about to tell them about grandma and the cane, and hoped they wouldn't notice the slight look of pain on my face every time I sat down. Even though it had been three days since that memorable event that changed my life. And when I say changed my life, I really mean it. Because at that dance I met David, who I fell deeply in love with, and has now been my husband for twenty wonder years.

Isn't it funny how things happen?