Dotes: a word about the cane


the cane about to strike againOne was having a little chat the other day with one who knows. She said that the cane is one of the things that she fears most.

That got us talking about personal histories of the cane and why it has such a hold on some people’s collective psyches.

One has to suspect that the image of the cane will be rather different for the English than it is for anyone else. That is because for anyone over 40 the cane was an integral part of their schooldays and for some, those educated privately, still a personal memory for those as young as 30.

Initially it was suggested that the cane was much more of a masculine correction. Certainly a friend from those days recently rather cheerfully recalled how he was often caned as if it were of no account.

However, it was pointed out that girls didn’t and often don’t talk about these things. One was informed that girls at one particular school, were cane and often on the bare. And that this happened to them at 18 almost as much and perhaps more often that it happened to the boys at her school, but they just didn’t talk about it. This was as recently as 1991 and furthermore, the school in question was still caning girls up until 1999.

Thinking back to one’s own schooldays, the two or three incidents of girl-caning were all too unlikely to be isolated incidents. In fact the older girls got, the more likely it was to happen in secret.

Two 18-year-olds in the sixth both admitted being embarrassed when signing the permission slips. Why bother if they weren’t caned?

There was one notorious teacher, Miss G, who took every opportunity to deliver a light spanking to older girls in her class. It was something of a standing joke. But thinking back Miss G was a deputy head and empowered to cane. Just what were all those girls doing going to see her on a Friday afternoon? Teenage boys can be so dim.

So perhaps the cane holds more fear for a woman these days (an English woman anyway, in Scotland and elsewhere in the UK the strap was used), because it was never a subject of banter for them, just a secret and painful embarassment.

retro school girl caned

5 Responses to “Dotes: a word about the cane”

  1. Interesting post – and I love that picture.

  2. 2 Poppy

    A scary post. Can’t we ever talk about nice things? I can’t think of any right now- my mind is full of canes. At least I haven’t felt one for ages and ages.

  3. Poppy, I will talk about nice things with you. Canes are scary, and should be left in the umbrella stand where they belong.

    I saw two puppies today.

  4. In my humble opinion, there is only place for a cane to be. And that is, it should be used frequently and with vigor, upon a naughty ladies bare bottom. So say I.

  5. 5 PDBB

    Allow me to comment on the effective results of a caning with an illustration. (In my opinion) there is no implement/tool of correction/punishment as memorable and lasting as the cane. And nothing I know of comes close to fulfilling the oft used threat of;”not being able to sit for a week” than a good(?) caning. First of all its proper application requires a degree of cooperation/submission as the area of chastisement is proffered. Although, it often carries with it the aspect of coercion ( as in: being forcibly held down by others or being secured or placed in the juvenile over the knee and spanked (often with the use of less formidable instruments) until one is *willing* to submit. Secondly, dependent on the size(weight,thickness,length) and the duration of the application, the results (weals, tramlines) can last, both visual and physical for quite some time. For instance a senior cane (one of greater thickness and weight can cause deep bruising like a paddle only *concentrated* to a relatively narrow band. Addressing the concentration issue; because it has such a defined surface/contact area the degree of accuracy in the placement to just where it will do the most *good* (there’s that word again) is enhanced.
    A friend of mine,I grew up with, who had three older sisters still living at home was subject to canings well into high school and beyond. His mother was the disciplinarian as his father was away quite a bit. He told me that right after a caning (that was quite severe) he was made to sit bare bottom on a hard wood chair and complete an assignment of lines he was given. He said it was excruciating and kept you in agony for hours. One day, I think it was a Saturday, I called on him, the door was open so I just walked in. There at the kitchen table was his oldest sister, she must have been twenty two or twenty three at the time, in a dress that was bunched up in the back,so you could see some *skin*, crying and sobbing and trying to write at the same time. Hanging on the back of the chair was a pair of light blue nylon or rayon panties and in a nearby corner was a long cane. She was a very pretty girl but she looked pained and miserable at this time as I got the distinct impression that nothing else in world occupied her thoughts as she continued with her task at hand, crying non stop not acknowledging my presence,
    My friends mother came out and told me Michael will be right back and seemingly disregarding her daughters distress said I was welcomed to wait for him in the den. I did but in a little while went to bathroom that was in line with the kitchen. It was then my friends sister stood up to rub her backside and pull down her dress in the back. Her mother quickly seeing this deviation from her assignment pulled her dress back up revealing a near purple (but exquisite) striped butt. She smacked it a few times while admonishing her and asking if she wanted more. She renewed her howls and was pushed back down and had the work she already performed torn up and was told to start again. My friend returned shortly after that and we left.
    I asked Michael what did his sister do and he said, she’s been *asking* for this for a long time and told mom she was an adult and didn’t have to follow house rules anymore. On top of the caning, he told me, she has extra chores and no TV, phone or radio. She gets sent to bed for the next week right after dinner and cleanup.
    I stopped by that next week as often as I could to *check on* her progress.She showed signs of discomfort well into the week and was often unconsciously rubbing her backside. The very next Saturday I again called on Michael. His sister answered the door. The sullen faced beauty was in a knee length cotton dress begrudgingly invited me in, turned and yelled for her brother before I could inquire about how she felt. She left me at the entrance way and went up the stairs. I looked up as she ascended and as I looked up I caught a glimpse of the back of her upper thighs. She still had colorful bruising showing. I would have given anything to have played doctor at that time.

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