Double the Slipper

The summer between 9th and 10th grade, we went as a family – mom, dad, me and my younger sister and two younger brothers – to Scotland to visit my grandmother, my dad’s mother.
We flew to Scotland in July and stayed for the month with my grandmother.
I was not especially happy to be giving up a summer with my friends, especially the boy I had been secretly dating for more than a year.
I was, to put it charitably, often sullen for much of the trip, to the point where I was warned more than one by mom that I was ‘this close’ to having my attitude adjusted.
By some miracle, I managed to improve my disposition each time just enough to avoid a trip over her knee and I emerged from the trip spank-free – except for one specific instance that happened while we were visiting cousins in London.
During the second week of our trip, we made this side trip to London, a rather lengthy train ride, to visit my dad’s cousin, who was a career diplomat and was stationed at the time at the Canadian embassy in London.
He and his wife had two children – Lisa, who was a few months older than I, and Stephen, who was younger.
After a couple of weeks at my grandmother’s with no kids of my own age around, it was nice hanging out with my cousin, whom I had not seen in a couple of years.
We talked about music, school and (mostly) boys.
A highlight of the visit was a matinee performance of Phantom of the Opera, for which my dad’s cousin had used some connections to get tickets.
After a lot of back and forth and pleading from Lisa, we were given permission to go on our own without the parents, as long as we took (and looked after) my sister.
We readily agreed and when the day came, off we went to the show.
My mom was sceptical but Lisa’s mom said Lisa was ‘an old pro’ at getting around the capital and we would be fine.
The journey from where my cousins lived to the theatre took about an hour and involved two different bus routes.
The show was spectacular and when it was over, we ducked into a restaurant for some food.
When we finished, we went outside and Lisa said we’d have to hurry to catch our bus home.
We raced to the stop, but in our haste, we became separated from each other.
I think we both thought that my sister was with the other, but when we finally found each other after several stops on the crowded bus, we came to the sickening realisation that we had left my sister behind.
In a complete panic, we got off at the next stop and took another bus back to the pickup point.
We made a frantic search but my sis was nowhere in sight.
I was beginning to seriously panic when she emerged from a shop and waved us down.
Now, this was in the days before everyone had cell phones.
My sister had no money on her and did not know the phone number of my cousins’ home.
She had gone into the shop in near hysterics and the people who ran the shop were just about to call the police when she spotted us looking for her.
We caught another bus and made our transfer – but we arrived home long after we were expected and were met by two frantic, worried moms.
My sister promptly burst into tears and told them what happened and how she was abandoned in the middle of a huge city and how terrified she had been.
The concern from the moms turned quickly to anger at Lisa and me for being so irresponsible.
Lisa’s mom also was furious at her for not calling to let them know what was going on.
After spending some time consoling my sister and sending her off to watch TV, they turned their attention back to us.
“We’re going to finish this conversation upstairs in my room,” Lisa’s mom said.
I saw a look flash across Lisa’s face that told me the conversation was going to be very one-sided.
I knew from previous conversations with Lisa that her parents both spanked them; her dad with a belt and her mom with a wooden spoon or a slipper.
We trudged up the stairs to the third floor, where Lisa’s parents’ bedroom was, our mothers close behind.
It was a large master suite with a sitting area.
Lisa’s mom disappeared into a walk-in closet and re-appeared with a man’s slipper in each hand, both featuring a fairly thick and firm rubber sole.
I saw Lisa flinch when she saw the slipper.
Unlike the spankings mom gave at our house, there was less procedure with Lisa’s mom.
She sat on an overstuffed hassock and my mom took residence in an armless occasional chair that she pulled to the centre of the room.
Both Lisa and I were wearing dress shorts and button-down blouses.
We had lost our sneakers entering the house but had crew socks on.
Lisa’s mom waved the slipper at her.  My mother chimed in:
“You will be getting the same as well, Missy.”
I hated when she called me that because the only time she ever referenced me in that way was when my rear end was about to be tanned.
Her mom gave us a ‘proper telling off’, citing how irresponsible we had been, how much they had worried us and compounded our misjudgments by not calling them.
She had been raised in Canada by upper middle class English parents and came across as very formal and matriarchal.
As she upbraided us, my mom would occasionally interject with her own admonishments, including how she only agreed to let us go because she thought I could be trusted to watch my sister.
By the standards at my own house, this was an exceptionally lengthy lecture.
It probably went on for 10 minutes – an excruciatingly long time to be standing on full display.
Finally, the lecture wrapped up and with a signal of slipper pointing to laps, we each bent over our respective moms’ knees.
They way they were angled, our heads were only a couple of feet apart and we could look up and see the face of the other naughty girl.
Again, Lisa’s mom took the lead and began vigorously applying the slipper to Lisa’s upturned bottom.
My mom followed suit and soon the room was filled with the sounds of leather smacking bottoms and yelps.
I noticed that Lisa’s mom did not make her count swats and in a break from our usual protocol, mom didn’t make me count either.
She also did not spank in her usual group of 12 swats.
I don’t know how many I got, but I would estimate it was well past 60 and she painted every inch of my bum, top and bottom, and the tops of my thighs with the slipper.
I could see Lisa’s legs occasionally scissor-kick and I know I was squirming and bucking myself toward the end, letting out the occasional yelp as the slipper met the tops of my thighs.
I am not sure of the duration, but it was probably a good sound three minutes we spent over our moms’ knees and it was one of the lengthiest spankings I remember getting.
When we were finally told we could stand up, we each hopped up and down and rubbed our stinging bottoms, no longer concerned about modesty or embarrassment.
When we had calmed down some, my mom took the lead, pointed to an empty corner and told me to go park my nose in it.
Lisa’s mom said: “I think that is an excellent idea – you can think about what you should have done.”
She dispatched Lisa to a space between her vanity and dresser.
I’m not sure how long our exile lasted but eventually my mom came back up and told us  get down for dinner.
The only saving grace is that my brothers and Lisa’s brother were out with their dads and didn’t know what had happened.
We also had to apologise to my sister, who seemed to take glee in the comeuppance we had received.