In my last contribution, I recounted the story of a memorable spanking I received from my sister Marsha, and I also mentioned that we had both over the years received spankings from both our mother and grandmother. What follows is the story of Marsha’s ‘big girl’ caning from Granny Black, as we called her.
Granny Black was a warm, generous woman, but she was also strict, with firm views on how we should behave and an unshakeable belief that any naughtiness deserved punishment – and that, in Granny’s eyes, meant a hard spanking. It was, after all, the way she had brought up our own mother, and she hadn’t turned out too badly.
At the time of this story Marsha had just turned 14, so I was around five. I had seen sister spanked over grandma’s knee many times before. I, on the other hand, had only recently been introduced to the experience of a proper smacked bottom from Granny and had no desire to repeat it any time soon.
Marsha was going through the ‘terrible teen’ years – moody, disruptive and generally obnoxious. Mother was very tolerant of this phase, arguing that once her hormones had settled down, Marsha would revert to her normal, cheerful self. Granny Black, despite her generous nature, took the opposite view. Mother, of course, lost the argument!
It was a Wednesday morning when things came to a head. Mother had gone out for the morning, leaving us in Granny’s care. This didn’t suit Marsha at all – she probably considered herself too old to have a ‘babysitter’ by now. And being in a particularly bad mood, she stomped off to her bedroom and began playing her records very loudly indeed. I was playing quietly with my dolls in my own bedroom.
Suddenly, I heard Granny calling up the stairs. “Marsha! Turn that music down! It’s far too loud!” The only response from my sister was to turn the volume of the record player up further. Now, if there was one thing Granny Black would not tolerate, it was direct disobedience. Once again, she shouted up the stairs. “Turn that down – now! This is your last warning, young lady!” The volume went even higher.
Granny Black fairly ran up the stairs at that show of insolence, and the look on her face told its own story. I wandered casually out of my room as Granny opened the door to Marsha’s. Marching in with a determined grimace, she yanked the record player’s plug from the wall, bringing the music to a complete and sudden stop, and grabbed Marsha by the arm.
“Right, young lady. Your mother might put up with your tantrums, but you’re about to find out that I certainly won’t. Come with me to my bedroom – you’ve been asking for this for a long time, and now you’re going to get it.”
Granny turned her stern face on me. “You as well, Naomi – you might as well see will happen in future if you don’t do as you’re told.” I followed obediently, although quite scared that I might get drawn into the punishment.
Marsha protested all the way as Granny dragged her by the arm to her own bedroom. “Be quiet! You girls are going to learn that when l tell you to do something, l expect you to do it. Let’s see what a little reminder will do, shall we? Marsha, bare that bottom and over my knee now!” Marsha hesitated. “I said now!” “But Gran, I’m too old for a spanking!”
I expected Granny to completely fly off the handle. Instead, there was a dreadful silence, then she said: “That’s what you think, is it? Well, perhaps you’re right. Stay there – l’ve something in here especially for big girls.”
Granny opened her wardrobe, rummaged around a little and emerged brandishing an old cane. Neither of us knew that grandma had it, but we knew damn well what it was, as the cane featured prominently in comics of the time. The sight of it – and the realisation that she was about to feel it across her bottom made Marsha go white as a sheet.
Granny, meanwhile, was flicking the cane experimentally through the air. “I used this on your mother when she was a naughty girl, and it’s obvious to me that it’s high time it was used again!” She turned once more to my sister. “Now, Marsha, jeans and pants down, and bend over with your hands on the bed.” “Please, Gran! I am sorry!” “I said now!”
Reluctantly, Marsha slowly undid her jeans, then pulled both them and her knickers down in one go, revealing her quickly maturing bottom. After one last despairing, wordless appeal to gran over her shoulder, she bent over as instructed.
“Right,” Granny Black said, “let’s see what six of the best will do for your attitude, young lady.” Granny rested the cane on Marsha’s naked buttocks for a moment, then without warning drew it back and delivered the first stroke. I was both fascinated and at the same time close to wetting my pants with fear. I watched as Marsha’s bottom wobbled as the cane landed, quickly followed by a thin red line across her buttocks. But most impressive was Marsha’s screaming – there was no doubt that the cane was far worse than Mum or Granny’s hand, or even the strap which had been previously used on her if she had been very naughty.
Granny left a short but distinct gap between each stroke – long enough for me to get a good look at the effects on my sister’s bum, and more pertinently for Marsha to appreciate the full sting of each whack. By the time she was finally allowed to stand up again, not only were there six angry red stripes across her buttocks, she was also crying like a little girl.
“I hope that’s taught you a lesson, my girl,” Granny said quietly but firmly, “and you, Naomi” – she turned to me – “I hope you were watching carefully.” I blushed almost as if it was me who had bared her bottom and got the caning. “Yes, Gran,” I replied meekly. “Good – because from now on, that is what will happen if either of you disobey me again. Is that clear?” I nodded again dutifully.
Gran turned back to my still weeping sister. “Go to your room now – and stay there until your mother or l tell you to come out.” Not even bothering to cover her striped bum, Marsha waddled, jeans and knickers still around her ankles, back to her bedroom. “And you –” Granny gave me another terrible look – “play quietly, or else!”
Naturally, I did exactly as I was told. But a while later l had to go to the bathroom for a wee, and on the way back l peeped into Marsha’s room. Her jeans and knickers were discarded on the floor by her bed, and my sister was lying face down on her bed, still sobbing gently. The red stripes on her naked bottom were turning purple as the bruising began to show. I crept in and lay down beside my sister, hoping it might be a comfort to her. Eventually, we both fell asleep for a while.
Suffice to say, that was not the only time either of us experienced Granny Black’s cane – but those stories are for another time.
Contributor: Naomi