For an eternity, I stood with my nose pressed on the blackboard, and held my skirt up to expose my bare blazing bum to the whole class. The fact that I wasn't alone didn't help. I imagined that all eyes were only on my shamefully reddened bottom. I desperately wanted to rub.
As soon as we were freed for the mid morning break. I pulled my knickers up, and rubbed my skirt over my still fiery derriere. A few minutes later, as I was alone in the loos, I raised my skirt in front of the mirror above the sinks to have a look at my smarting butt. I was quite distressed to see that my knickers couldn't hide my crimson bottom. It was obvious that I was punished, and well punished.
Just then a few girls entered the loos. I hastily pulled down my skirt. Lia and Isa were among them, and they were very nice, "Was it really your first spanking?" I couldn't do more than nodding with another blush. Without blushing, a few Asian girls pulled their skirts up. "Whoa! She did quite a job!" One of them added, "Tonight I'll probably get a ganzhé dance..."
For lunch at the cafeteria, the punished Anglos were down a few pegs, and mostly silent. They also rubbed as discreetly as they could. On the other end the Asian girls were their usual chatty birds, and rubbed very little. One of them teased Emma and me, "That was quite a show you two gave us!" Lia and Isa stood up for us. "Leave them alone!"
On the way back home, Emma and I rode mostly above the saddle. We did sit when we came across a group of boys from a nearby school. We didn't want to chance a gust of wind blowing our skirts up, and showing that we were spanked as little girls.
As usual Mum asked how was my day in school. She was of course told that I was admitted. I tried to be cheery, "I got the 3 best grades of my class..." She had a big happy smile. I couldn't help sitting carefully for my 'back from school ice cream'. Maman must have suspected something. A few minutes later when I rinsed my cup she pulled my skirt up. We both mouthed surprised Ohs. "You were punished! Why?"
"I am sorry Mum, for the tests I also had two grades bellow 10/20 and was spanked..."
She peeled my knickers down. "Please Mum!"
"And well punished!"
I told her that I have homework and disappeared into my room. I changed into soft PJ shorts. I surprised myself with working more than usual.
Later for dinner, when Poppa was back she told him that I was punished. "Show your father how you were punished, drop your shorts!"
"Mum please!"
"Your father pampered you and knows how you are made!"
With quite a blush I lowered my PJ shorts.
"Oh Princess!"
Mum hissed, "Your Princess got what she deserved!"
Later Poppa knocked on my door, and gave me a jar of Vichy cream. I hugged him. "Try to be a good girl dearest."
"I will... I am sorry Poppa..."
Sleep didn't come easy. I was replaying the events of the day. "You were spanked on the bare in front of the whole class..."
I hugged my teddy.
"You had to stand in front of the blackboard holding your skirt up to show your red bottom to your new classmates..."
"Sniff."
"You bawled and cried as a little girl..."
"Tomorrow you have to... zzzzz ... zzzzz....
Amelia and Emma
To be continued...
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"Mum please!"
ReplyDelete"Your father pampered you and knows how you are made!"
With quite a blush I lowered my PJ shorts.
"Oh Princess!"
Mum hissed, "Your Princess got what she deserved!"
This is truly awesome, B. So delightful to go back & read your stories, art & photos.
This following quote, is one of your greatest-ever lines, B: "Your father pampered you and knows how you are made!"
Yes, absolutely, B. And for sure, my botty in yore was not under my ownership & control, B...well, not if I was naughty!! This line from you here, has deep, rich contextual layers constructing traditional family values, corporal punishment & social mores.
I vividly recall as a child, that back in the 1960s in Georgia, it was expected for moms n pops to see their daughters' bare bottoms when normal, necessary, punishment was being given AKA it was called "a spanking"...AKA a whuppin'! Corporal punishment was just a rite of passage for y'all girls back then. And a pair of cotton knickers (protecting naughty, sensitive-skinned bums) were not allowed or suffered to remain in sit when you gotten your botty blistered at home from the with the parental strap, paddle, switch, hairbrush, or flexible, rattan cane (in my case)
For sure, bare botties ruled when chastisement was required! That was how it gotten done. So this quote from you, B, defines the normality that bare red bottoms are an integral part of family life in the South (if not in the UK/Europe)
Moreover, my mother used to say, as a warning, when I was very young, that "bottoms are bare for bath times and spanking times" which sternly underlined her Spartan attitude, (scary already!) to chores & discipline ...and to the entity & well-being of my unclothed botty!!
The delightful Mamak cane itself, was designed for the bare bottoms of daughters in Singapore, the Philippines, Hong Kong, Japan and some African countries (I know Nigerian girls from my Atlanta-based corporation who gotten raised with a similar cane on their bare buttocks) The Mamak cane was not designed to sting through clothing like panties. It is applied to bare bottoms only.
Southern paradox...
I was fascinated growing up in the 1960s by this paradox, B: namely that in such a religious, conservative, Christian region, that bottoms were always bared for punishment...often in public & often in front of onlookers. We impeccably behaved, well-mannered, sternly raised goody two-shoes girls wore conservative clothes, sensible Ol' fashioned knickers and yet an angry mom would duly bare a girl's lily white botty for a good hard hand in the mall! We girls gotten chaperones & lived by strident rules & boundaries ...and yet we had to bare our fairest, tender backsides at home in private for punishment with the rod of correction, in front of God. My friends gotten the strap. Whereas I gotten the cane.
Oh my! I sooooooo loved this social-spanking paradox, B. And it is something you observe most wonderfully & sharply in your writing & analysis. God bless those strict 1950s values of raising daughters properly, B!
Brenda xx