I was born in December of 1950. My parents were high school sweethearts and got married the summer after graduation, which was common in those days, and my mother was 19 years old when I was born. My mother’s parents also married young and my maternal grandparents were aged 19 and 20 when she was born. I had been born and raised in Los Angeles, but my grandparents were from Louisiana and had moved to California when my mother was 11 years old. In the spring of 1965, I was 14 years old and was about to learn that my grandparents had an old-fashioned view of discipline.
That spring, my father had a business trip to England that would last about a week, and he took my mother with him to take a week-long vacation after his business meetings were over. My grandparents moved into our house for those 2 weeks to look after my siblings and me. I adored my loving grandparents who spoiled us rotten. My grandfather and I were especially close since we had the same birthday. My parents had informed my grandparents of the house rules, including my strict curfew. I broke curfew twice the first week of my grandparents stay and was warned that if I did so again I would be spanked.
On Friday night I stayed out way past curfew to see my secret boyfriend (I wasn’t yet allowed to date) in an outfit my grandparents wouldn’t have approved of. I was obsessed with Brigitte Bardot and was told that I looked like her even though I had dark hair. I wore a very short plaid mini skirt and a tight black sweater with stylish headband. When I tried to sneak back into the house after 11.30, my grandpa was waiting for me. He was calm but I could tell he was angry.
“Ella, I warned you what would happen if you broke curfew again. Now come over here.”
I walked over to him and started to apologize, but he waved his hand.
“Take off your skirt.”
“What?” I exclaimed.
“You’re getting a spanking.”
“No way, I’m too old!”
He then just grabbed my arm and with a swift motion pulled me to the sofa and pulled me over his lap. My grandpa was 54 years old and was a brick layer and construction worker, so he was very strong. While holding me down with one hand by wrapping it around my waist, he used his right hand to unzip my skirt and pull it down and off, tossing it on the floor by the sofa. Then, to my shock and horror, he pulled down my panties to my knees.
“No!” I exclaimed.
“Quiet!” he said. “Now be a good girl and accept your punishment.”
This was so humiliating. I had been spanked a few times in my childhood, but never on my bare bottom. Before I could say another word, he started spanking my bottom hard. First one side, then the other, then the middle, then down to the sit spot, over and over again. He had large hands that made a loud sound as each spank slapped down on my helpless bottom. I couldn’t believe how much it actually hurt. Soon I was begging him to stop. After several minutes he stopped to lecture me.
“You’re a good girl, Ella, but this is something you clearly need. You need to learn to respect your elders and follow the rules. Nothing teaches a naughty girl a lesson like a good spanking.”
At this point, he reached over to the side table next to the sofa and picked up a ping pong paddle that I somehow did not notice before. I began to protest and try to wriggle myself free again, but to no avail. He started raining down that paddle down on bottom. I never noticed before how heavy that damn paddle was!
After a few minutes, I was no longer trying to fight him and I was crying and promising to be good. It was impossible to keep my bottom still. I wriggled it around, no longer thinking about how embarrassed I was to be naked from the waist down, but just focused on the pain. After what seemed like an eternity, my bottom felt like it was on fire.
“Have you learned your lesson?” My grandpa asked me.
“Yes!” I exclaimed through sobs. I promise I’ll never disobey you again!”
He then gave me a few more whacks with the paddle, then put it down. He then gently put his hands on my waist and helped me up off his lap. I quickly reached down to pull up my panties to cover myself. He then took me by the arm and led me to a corner in the room. He told me to put my hands on my head and told me to touch my nose to the wall. He then pulled my panties back down to my ankles and told me to stand there and think about why I was punished. He told me that if I moved from the spot I would be spanked some more. I couldn’t believe that I was standing there naked from the waist down with my panties around my saddle shoe sneakers.
My grandpa went into the kitchen and left me standing there for a while. When grandpa finally came back into the living room, he told me to pull up my panties, which I eagerly did. He then put his arms around me and gave me a big hug and kissed the top of my head.
“I’m sorry I needed to do that. You may think I’m old fashioned, but I believe in discipline.”
I then picked my skirt up off the floor and went upstairs to bed with a bruised and very sore bottom.
Fortunately, my siblings had been asleep and didn’t hear my spanking. I never told my parents about it because I was too embarrassed, and my grandpa and I never spoke about it again. Things went back to normal for the rest of my grandparents’ stay.
My grandpa and I remained close until he died in 1997.