Some of your readers may remember my two previous submissions. The First of Many recalled my very first over-the-knee spanking (over pants) from my dad, at the age of around five. The second, The Wages of Sin, described a bare-bottomed slippering I got for stealing some old coins Dad had found while digging in the garden.
Now I need to take you forwards some years in my childhood, to the age of 15. By this point, I think Dad felt that my tougher adolescent bottom required something a bit more serious than the slipper for him to make a point when he felt it was required.
So it was that one day, Dad took me aside and opened the sideboard drawer where his smacking slipper was kept. There beside it lay a school-type cane, very flexible with the traditional curved handle. Dad warned me that it would most definitely be used when I needed it, as I was a big boy now.
Like most boys of that age, smoking was the next naughty pastime me to explore. Dad had already warned me how very dangerous smoking was to your health and that if he ever caught me smoking, not only would he give me the usual bare-bottomed slippering over his knee but in addition he would give me six of the best with the cane.
Of course, as with all children, the warning ‘wore off’ and I got hold of a packet of six Woodbines – not realising how pungent cigarette smoke was, both in the air and on clothes. It wasn’t long before Dad caught me smoking behind the shed. A man always true to his word, he took me inside to inflict the promised punishment.
I was told to fetch both the slipper and the cane from the sideboard. After I handed them over to Dad, he took down my trousers and pants and put me across his knee. I was soundly spanked with the slipper until my bottom was humming. Usually, that would be the end of the punishment – but this time, Dad picked up the cane and led me to the kitchen, waddling along with my clothes still around my ankles.
Once there, Dad ordered me to bend over the table. He picked up the cane and I was given the promised six of the best. Boy, was that a sore punishment! I have never forgotten that particular spanking experience – it was so effective and believe me, it worked!
As it happened, that also turned out to be the last time Dad found the necessity to give me a sore bottom. So I had obviously learned my lesson!
Compared to the well-used slipper, that cane had a very short active life. Both implements of correction were retired to the back of that sideboard drawer, then eventually found their way to the loft, never to be used or seen again. Not, that is, until the day I had the task of clearing out Dad’s house and in the loft, I found my old enemies – the slipper with its sole worn smooth by many meetings with my bare bottom, and the cane used only once, but to great effect.
As I looked at these souvenirs of my childhood, I instinctively rubbed my the seat of my trousers – remembering all the lessons they had taught me and how very sore and red they had left my young bottom.
Contributor: Colin