It happen?

"Your grounded young lady!" my father growled "For four weeks. You go

to school, 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 high school's 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 cant 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 moms

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 wacks on the butt with a stick

and that's it?" My mother broke in and explained that the "six wacks 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, then spend the next four weeks in solitary

confinment. 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

teenager, 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 canned,

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 whinning 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 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 look very heavy, as grandma lightly tapped it on her

hand. "This wont 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 Ma mm."

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 canning.

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 canning 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

little 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 surly

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,intead 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

mothers gentel 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 postirior. Grandma

embrassed 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 evey 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?

F/f

Debs Disgrace

by nixdown

Chapter 1 - Banished from the Assembly Hall.

The doors of the Assembly Hall swung closed behind Deborah Morton with a dull thud. The fifth form schoolgal hurried down the corridor in the direction of the Headmistress's study. Deborah knew, full well, that it was not Ms. Lawton's practice to proceed with assembly until the last sound of a banished Gal's footstep, on the polished wooden floor, had faded behind her.

It had been an exciting week for Deborah. During Monday's assembly she had proudly mounted the steps of the stage to receive the senior Gals hard court tennis trophy, the first Gal from the Remove ever to win the competition. Two days later she was further applauded by her school chums for being invited to go to London to play the violin with a specially selected youth orchestra.

However, on Friday, when the attention of the assembled school once again focused on Deborah Morton the circumstances were far less auspicious. Ordered out of assembly for having her tie loosened and her top button unfastened, she was forced to exit the hall flushed and ashamed.

As she headed towards the staircase that led up to the Headmistress's study she was ruefully acknowledged that she had nobody to blame but herself. During the previous day's assembly Ms. Lawton had delivered a thunderous lecture on the declining standards in the turn-out of her pupils and everybody in the school was keenly aware of the Headmistress's obsession with the appearance of her Gals. Two full pages of the regulations of school were dedicated to the manner in which a Woody Gal was expected to wear her school uniform. Nonetheless, the heavy-handed manner with which she had been dispatched made her seethe with indignation as she stalked through the corridors of the school.

"YOU GAL! YES YOU, DEBORAH MORTON, STAND UP GAL!" the Head had roared from the stage, "ON YOUR FEET GAL THIS INSTANT!"

With a look of total surprise on her face Deborah Morton rose to her feet.

"YOUR TIE IS UNDONE!" The Headmistress blisteringly accused, her finger jabbing the air in the direction of the nonplussed schoolgal.

Deborah had felt herself redden as the whole school had looked to the back of the hall where she was seated amongst her classmates. Her hand had involuntarily gone to her neck.

"YESTERDAY I WARNED THIS ASSEMBLY THAT I WOULD TAKE A DIM VIEW OF ANY FURTHER INFRINGEMENTS OF THE SCHOOL RULES REGARDING UNIFORM," the Head yelled at the top of her voice.. "NEVERTHELESS YOU FLAGRANTLY CHOSE TO IGNORE MY WARNING AND TURN UP FOR ASSEMBLY IN THIS MOST UNRULY STATE. I THINK YOU HAD BETTER GO AND WAIT OUTSIDE MY STUDY."

When Deborah hesitated momentarily the Headmistress once again raised her voice angrily. "NOW GAL! UNLESS YOU WANT ME TO HAVE YOU REMOVED!" she barked from the stage.

Deborah was forced to struggle passed her seated classmates, then walk through the hall with every eye in the school fixed upon her.

When Deborah reached the landing outside the door to the Headmistress's study, Matron spotted her through the open doorway of the adjoining office.

"A little early aren't you Morton?," Katie Beck, the young school matron, called out sarcastically from her office. "Letting that motor mouth run away with itself again, I'll be bound."

Only three years ago Matron had still been a Woody Gal herself, and a very bad Gal at that, yet she never showed the slightest degree of sympathy to any Gal unfortunate enough to find herself up on the landing outside Ms. Lawton's study, and took every opportunity to make them feel uncomfortable.

Deborah flushed angrilly, "I wasn't gabbing actually, for your information," she snapped back. "If you must know you my bally tie wasn't done up properly and she got very shirty, and chucked me out."

"Well that's jolly tough luck," Katie Beck sneered, "Only this morning she told me she intended to lick the next Gal she caught looking shabby."

Deborah stared at Matron incredulously. "Oh come on she wouldn't. She couldn't possibly. I mean not just for having my tie undone."

On her lonely walk through the corridors the Gal had bitterly resigned herself to the fact she was going to have to endure a dose of tongue pie from the Headmistress. When she was shirty, the Beak could be very sharp. From experience Deborah knew that Ms. Lawton spitting a mouthful of poisoned barbs at her would be an uncomfortable and unpleasant experience, but it hadn't crossed her mind that the Headmistress would go any further.

"Oh yes Deborah, I think she could, and hot ones too I'll be bound," Matron retorted. "Now why don't you just face the wall and ruminate on that!"

After glaring at Katie, Deborah Morton, turned slowly to face the wall. Almost bursting with indignation she raised her arms and clasped her hands together on top of her short blond hair. She leaned forward until the tip of her nose was touching the wood panelling, and the toes of her shoes rested against the skirting board. Normally a visit to the Beak was nerve wracking. A Gals tummy would fill with butterflies, her legs cover with goose-bumps, but this morning Deborah Morton was so overcome with rage that she had no time to be nervous.

"This is utterly preposterous," thought Deborah hotly. "She's not going to whop me," she told herself firmly, "she wouldn't bloody dare." After all she was Deborah Morton, the golden Gal of the school. She was an academic wunderkind, she represented the County at tennis and hockey, and she was a prodigious violinist. Admittedly in the past she had shared with her best chum Nicola Jane Nixon a reputation amongst the enfant terribles of the Woody Gals, earning herself the nickname of Mephisto, and a ranking on the Big BUTT Hall of Shame. When earlier in the year Deborah had the misfortune to find herself at the hot end of the Beaks cane she had sworn it would be for the last time.

No sooner had Katie Beck departed than the Gal from the Remove stuck her tongue out and promptly took her hands off her head and turned away from the wall. Deborah had to wait a full twenty minutes before she heard the click of the Headmistress's heels in the stairwell. When Ms. Lawton arrived Deborah was casually leaning back against the wall, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her blazer. Her lips were pursed in a defiant pout; a dark frown creased her brow.

While she was waiting the fifth form schoolgals sense of acute indignation had increased considerably. The public berration had been embarrassing. She was damned if she was going to let the Headmistress treat her like an insignificant grubby.

"How could the Headmistress have been so cruel?" Deborah had mused angrily. "After all I've done for the school recently. How could she do this to me?" Sent from the assembly hall in disgrace like some silly junior was humiliating. Her resentment increased as she remembered the discomfort she had felt as she had walked through the crowded hall trying hard to maintain an appearance of composed indifference.

"Why aren't you facing the wall Gal?" the Headmistress barked as soon as she appeared at the top of the stairwell.

Deborah glared at the Headmistress darkly. Slowly she took her hands from the pockets of her blazer and let them fall to her sides. She moved away from the wall and pulled her shoulders back.

"I'm sorry ma'am," the Gal mumbled, but there was not a sign of apology on her sullen face.

"I can't tell you how disappointed I am Deborah. I expect better of you," Ms. Lawton said sharply, "and wipe that ugly pout off your face."

Deborah seethed inwardly. It was obvious that the Headmistress was still very cross but there was no need to be so abrupt.

She glared back at the woman. "It was a silly mistake ma'am and I'm sorry," she said recalcitrantly.

The Headmistress continued to glower at Deborah Morton. The Gal's bravado began to wilt a little.

"May I go now?" she said hopefully.

"You most certainly cannot go, Deborah!" the Headmistress snapped, "follow me immediatley."

Reluctantly Deborah Morton followed Ms. Lawton into her study.

Deborah Morton stood before the Headmistress, her arms crossed over her chest, her body resting into an insolent slouch. She was determined to show the Beak that she didn't think she'd done anything wrong.

The Headmistresses face was a picture of exasperation. She took the Gal by the shoulders.

"Stop slouching," she snapped, "stand up straight."

Deborah shrugged herself free of the Headmistress, and slowly stood to attention.

"I must re-iterate my disappointment in your behavior Deborah," the Head began coldly, "I do not issue orders for them to be simply ignored. Perhaps you think that rules are for the other Gals and you are exempt from them? Is that the case Deborah?"

"No ma'am of course not."

"Yet you chose to flagrantly ignore my instructions."

"It was just a silly mistake, I tell you. I really don't understand what all the fuss is about," Deborah said hotly. Never in her young puff had she heard such rot.

"Yes it was silly Morton. Very silly indeed," the Head responded slowly, "and your attitude is even sillier. You will receive six strokes of the cane..."

"For having my tie undone?" Deborah interjected contemptuously.

"With your knickers removed..."

"Don't be bloody ridiculous..." the fifth former couldn't help herself. It was unthinkable. A bare bender for breaking such a stupid rule. Deborah's mind was racing. She wasn't having this.

"If you interrupt me again young lady I'll..."

"You'll what? Beat me?" Deborah snapped back petulantly.

The next thing Deborah Morton knew she was being spun around and pinned down, chest forward, across the top of the desk.

The Headmistress thumped her hand down on the seat of Deborah's skirt. The Gal from the Remove struggled and squirmed as Ms. Lawton's hand walloped her once, twice, then a third time. Next, as suddenly as she was pinned down, she was roughly yanked up from the desk and shoved her in the back.

"Fetch the chair and bend over," the Headmistress snapped.

Red faced and fuming with embarrassment Deborah hurried forward, picked up the familiar punishment chair and placed it in the middle of the room. Sulkily she hung her jacket over the back of the chair and then hung herself over the jacket.

She had hardly grasped the wrung of the chair before she felt her skirt dragged back and her knickers turned inside out. Before she could prepare herself she heard a violent hiss and a streak of fire etched itself from one side of her backside to the other. She let out a low whistle and blinked in pain. The speed with which the second and third strokes exploded on her ass made her giddy. With white knuckled determination she hung onto the crossbar. She could smell the sourness of her breath as she buried her face in the chair seat. WHOOSH! the fourth stroke sliced across her naked flesh, she blinked hard and gritted her teeth. She wouldn't yell she told herself, let the bitch lay it on as thick as she liked. The fifth stroke was equally searing. Deborah tensed herself for the last stroke.

Ms. Lawton tapped the cane down on Deborah's bottom. Then she raised her arm up high in the air and brought the cane down fast. The long wicked stick arced through the air at terrific speed and landed diagonally across the five scarlet weal's. Deborah's hips swayed and her breath burst from her in an impassioned pant. With astonishing resilience she pushed herself up from the chair, reached down and tugged her up her knickers. She smoothed down her skirt, put on her blazer and turned to face the Headmistress. She stared defiantly at the Beak, her lip curled contemptuously. If theBeak thought she'd see her crack she had another think coming.

Deborah stepped up to the desk. She handed her Punishment Record Book to the Headmistress, eyes burning with rage.

"There is no room for favoritism in this school," the Head told her sharply, "I gave ample warning of the consequences of not conforming to the regulations so you only have yourself to blame. I find your arrogance a little distasteful, I don't care for it in the least bit." She completed the entry in the book and handed it to Deborah, as the Gal reached to take it the woman behind the desk held onto the book. "I am not fond of disobedience Morton so be warned if you step out of line you will be treated the same as any other Gal in the school and if that means I have to thrash you again I will and I don't care how many times I thrash you either. I run this school and you would do well to remember that."

For a moment their eyes met, Deborah's face was flushed with bitterness, the Headmistress servere. Ms. Lawton released the book and Deborah spun on her heel and, without apology, left the office with as much dignity as she could muster.

Chapter 2 - A Time to Smolder.

By mid-morning break time it was all over the school and Deborah found that far from being the schools great heroine she was reduced to a figure of fun.

"Ha,Ha,Ha! Hee,Hee,Hee! Guess who got bent over the old Gals knee!" cheeky young juniors sang before scampering away giggling.

Deborah's usually sunny countenance had taken on a sullen pallor. When a paper missile slapped against the seat of her skirt Deborah spun around and seeing a grubby running off she gave chase. Catching the youngster she delivered a ringing cuff to the Gal's ear. She strode off to the unsuppressed laughter of the onlookers. She was furious and she knew she had to blame. Doubtless Katie Beck had been listening at the door and had relished the opportunity to add to the Gals discomfort by maliciously spreading the word that Deborah Morton, Gal from the Remove, had had her bottom smacked.

"We're going to show that bitch," she informed Nicola Jane, "we're going to really make her sit up and take notice."

Nicola Jane always got nervous when Deborah talked in the plural. She smelt trouble.

"Come on Debs, it's just a storm in a teacup. It'll all be forgotten in no time at all," she said cheerily. "After all it was only a bloody whopping."

"I don't care," Deborah said darkly, "we're going to fix her."

"Don't be a chump Debs, it'll only end in tears. Just forget it."

"You losing your nerve ?" Deborah snapped, "You going soft on me?"

"No, of course not," Nicola Jane looked hurt. "But the Beak's going to get pretty waxy if you start rattling her cage."

"So you won't help me then?"

Nicola Jane looked at her friend helplessly. "Well, I'd rather not while she's in a spin, at least not in these drawers."

"You bloody chicken," Deborah snarled, "I might have known I couldn't rely on you."

Nicola Jane stared at her chum, her eyes welled up with tears, "That's a horrible thing to say," she said. "And you know it's not true."

Deborah shook her head scornfully and pushed passed her friend. "I'll just take care of it myself."

Nicola Jane's face was a picture of bewilderment. How could Deborah be so spiteful she wondered. To accuse her of being chicken. How many times had it been Nicola Jane Nixon who had caught it hot for Deborah instigated indiscretions? Never once complaining, stoically bending forward and taking vicious lickings to protect her pal. Miserably Nicola Jane made her way to class, for the first time during their long friendship Nicola Jane felt betrayed.