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വിജി പിണറായി
Viji Pinarayi
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Memoirs
Anecdotes of a few Unforgettable Punishments
That Anju Chechi gave me
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Ever since I learned that my beloved sister Anju was actually elder to me, even though by a few days, I had accepted her as my 'chechi' (elder sister) in the true spirit of the word, giving her the full respect the position demands and allowing her the full rights of an elder sister. However, it was a three - year period from from December 1998 that literally redefined my relationship with chechi. It was during this period that chechi assumed the authoritative role of an elder sister to me. As a result, I had to endure numerous punishments - a plethora of cane - strokes (around two hundred and forty, out of which about 210 were on the buttocks, and the rest, on the thighs) spanning over a number of instances - from her, that too, in the presence of parents and sister and sometimes, even neighbours, especially children*. (Complete list here.) During those days, my parents had entrusted 'chechi' with full authority to punish me for anything that's deemed an offence. If the 'trial' returned a 'guilty' verdict, she would take me to my parents. The announcement and award of the punishment would be in their presence, after obtaining their approval. Irrespective of the charge, the punishment would essentially be the same - a sound thrashing, that too, with the cane only. Distinction based on the seriousmess of the offence would be in the number of strokes only. Minimum six, in 'full force', delivered to near-perfection across the buttocks - that was chechi's 'standard'. However, since the younger brother was a 'perfect gentleman' to whom 'mischief' was something unheard of, a 'liberal dose' in the range of ten - twelve was the norm...! There were even instances when I got 'multiple doses' - twice or even thrice - on the same day, for different offences. Even if the pain of the first dose was yet to sink in, the next dose wouldn't be any gentle. And if the mischief that invited the second dose was committed after getting the first one, I could be sure of getting a 'peeled' - not just 'striped' - bottom. There were even instances, though pretty rare, when I had to receive the cane clad in just the 'bare essentials'. The caning was usually imparted publicly in the main hall of the house with doors left open such that anybody who came to the house could wach the proceedings right from the front yard or even the road. Chechi was never reluctant to use the cane whenever she felt necessary, notwithstanding the presence of relatives, neighbours or even father's friends who used to visit us - Neither was I, to receive chechi's cane right in their presence. And once, chechi had given me a 'dose' while at her house - a ten-stroke one, right in front of her mother, using the cane that mother used to use to punish her daughers. As if all these weren't enough, she had even topped them off with another gem of a performance two decades later, wherein she enacted the 'peeling routine' to perfection on my underwear-clad buttocks, making me urinate and defecate in presence of her children and my wife, that too, at the age of forty-two...!
Notwithstanding these experiences, I had never protested or even raised or even felt any objection to chechi's caning - not even when the she peeled the skin off my underwear - clad buttocks in public or even when she forced me to urinate and defecate with a heavy barrage of cane-strokes. (In fact, I had dreams - or should I say 'nightmares'? - of getting upto forty - odd strokes in a single 'session' and crying and being forced to urinate, unable to withstand the pain of the cane - strokes landing on the underwear - clad buttocks in the presence of parents, sister and neighbours. However, even when the dream - and even more - turned true two decades later, I didn't feel - and won't ever feel - ashamed except for indulging in the mischief that forced chechi to wield the cane.)
I had kept a good - quality cane at home exclusively for chechi to use to punish me. I had taken up as my duty to keep it in pristine condition, cleaning it and applying a coat of oil from time to time, and to take it out from the shelf and give to chechi whenever required. Within a three - year period (1999 - 2001), I had received arounf two hundred and thirty strokes, spanning over twenty one instances, with that cane. Adorned with the enviable achievement of leaving a few long - stading marks that remained indelible for years on my buttocks and thighs and vivid and sparkling memories in my mind, that cane still remains in near - perfect condition on the shelf in my room at home.
(*: Most of the children - including girls - in our neighbourhood have witnessed me receiving canings - from father in the initial days and from chechi later. For them, my getting caning from father was a 'normal scene', but that from chechi was nothing short of a 'wonder', hard to believe. No wonder they felt it unbelievable - it'd be no less than a wonder to see a youngster in his twenties receiving caning like a little child - that too, on the buttocks, in front of others, and even more so when it's from a same - aged girl. So, they used to wach the proceedings wide-eyed right from the moment chechi took the cane. The 'rare and beautiful' sight of the 'loving gifts' that I receive on the buttocks and thighs throughout the session would be a delicious feast for them. Many of them had openly told us (me and chechi) 'ettanu Anju echeente kaiyeennu adi kittunnathu kaanan nalla rasamaa' ('It's great to see 'ettan' (elder brother - that's me) getting caning from Anju chechi'). A 'naughty little girl' among them - Athira, who is our relative also - had gone even further and openly said 'chanthikku kittunnathu kaanaanaa enikkishtam' ('What I love to watch is (him) getting (the caning) on the buttocks'.) She was lucky enough to get the privilege to watch me getting caning from chechi not once or twice, but four times - including the 'golden opportunity' to 'enjoy' the 'most delicious' sight of me receiving caning on the buttocks clad in underwear only. She had witnessed fifty-two strokes of the cane that chechi gave me, spanning four different instances - forty-six on the buttocks (including sixteen while in underwear only) and six on the thighs. Even now, she teases me wheneven she gets a chance, reminding me of those instances.)
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December 1998. The declaration of the results of the sixth semester B. Tech. exams brought me the biggest ever loss of my college years - I had failed to clear even a single theory paper. I couldn't blame the loss on anything but my own laziness. I didn't have to be a 'fortune teller', neither did I need the help of one, to foresee the 'catastrophe' that would have emerged if my parents were to learn the truth. So, I decided to present to them a very 'toned down' version of the news only - that I couldn't clear a couple of papers.
Even though I could 'eye-wash' my parents, I couldn't hold the fort in front of the sharp and accurate questions of Anju chechi who came home on the next Sunday. When my parents asked why I had hidden the truth, it was not me but chechi who answered - saying 'he's badly in need of a good hiding, four or five strokes on the buttocks with a good cane would suffice'. The suggestion was met with an even more surprising response from my father - He entrusted chechi with the 'duty' to 'set me right', saying 'if you feel so (that he needs a caning), do it yourself'.
As chechi accepted the 'duty', even though a bit hesitantly, an unprecedented scenario was set to unfold - I was going to have to receive a caning from an 'outsider' - neither parents nor teacher - that too, a girl.
With father making his intentions clear, saying 'don't hesitate thinking that two of us (himself and mother) are watching... You may proceed and give him a good dose, right on the buttocks', scene was set for me to experience a few unforgettable moments...
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October 1999. The results of the Final Semester B. Tech. exams brought me the news of another setback - I couldn't clear two papers. Since it was the final, I didn't want to let my parents know about the loss. So, I decided to play a 'trick' - Hide the original mark-list and introduce a 'dummy' instead to show them, with a lie to cap the 'trick' - that the final mark-list was witheld because I was yet to clear a couple of papers of the sixth semester.
The ploy was a grand success in the initial stage - not only my parents, but even Anju chechi seemed convinced by my 'dummy' mark-list. (Chechi had come home on a usual visit on 17th October, the Sunday after I got the mark-list.) But my relief was short-lived. Purely by chance, chechi stumbled upon the actual mark-list thast I had hidden in my table, leaving my 'sand castle' shattered. There was no way out - the offence was unpardonable - it was a 'double crime' - lying capped with cheating. The usual punishment that chechi used to give me, even for the smallest offences, was a good dose of the cane. Her 'favourite punishment method' was to apply a liberal dose of the cane on my buttocks in the presence of my parents. (That even myself had started loving this 'style', - which was introduced by chechi in 'recognition' of my 'performance' in the the sixth semester and had become her favourite just after a couple of repetitons - may be because I had already experienced it a few times in the last few months, is a different matter altogether!) I was sure that, in the 'Penal Code' of chechi who was never hesitant to take the cane in response to even the smallest mischief, the punishment for this serious offence would be nothing short of an 'extra - heavy' dose of the cane that would peel the skin off my buttocks. The only 'doubt' was how many strokes it would be.
When chechi asked my father for the permission to punish her younger brother, his response was sharp: 'For what he's done, he deserves to get his buttocks skinned... So, give him as much as you wish... Give his buttocks the 'best treatment' you can... No need of leniency...' (How loving a father!) Unlike the usual practice of deciding the punishment on her own, chechi opted for a different approach this time - she asked me to decide, instead of her deciding - the punishment for my crime. (Of course, with a 'justification' - that I was over twenty - one!) I didn't bother much about the punishment. I didn't have to. What's waiting for me would be a quality hiding - and that would be nothing but a heavy dose of the cane on the buttocks - the only 'contribution' I had to make is to tell the number of strokes! (However, that didn't mean a possible 'escape' by opting for a lesser dose! Notwithstading the 'options' available, I'd get what's due - no stopping what's already in the pipeline. Any hope of leniency would be too far - fetched. Chechi won't even think of, let alone consider, the 'age factor' - that her brother was not a school - kid who can be 'set right' by caning. Quite the contrary, she might even decide to give an 'extra dose' for being 'naughty' even at this age!) I made an attempt to perform a little 'show - off' by opting for the 'usual dose' of punishment and then adding 'and the rest as you like', as if making a 'magnanimous offer'. However, the 'offer' backfired - the punishment that chechi announced was double the level that I had expected...!
As if the 'double dose' wasn't enough, the careless attitude that I had unknowingly adopted in the way I was dressed (in a lungi) added another aspect of shame to the punishment. The result: an unprecedented experience that I couldn't have even dreamt of till a couple of months back - For the first time in life, I had to stand, dressed only in briefs, in front of a same-aged girl and receive a caning on the underwear-clad buttocks from her - and that too, a heavy dose. And it was not just one or two, but sixteen superb strokes, each better than the previous ones, 'burning' the buttocks - a most lovable symphony of sweet affection marked by loving 'kisses' of the cane that I myself had procured a few months back for chechi and had become equally 'favourite' to both of us...
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‘Impersonation’
(The First (and the last) Caning I got at Chechi's house)
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During the period I spent at native place doing some software courses after completing B. Tech., chechi and her 'friend' continued their 'duty' unhindered. On the other side, I, even though a 'better boy' than I was in the past few years, continued to receive those 'loving gifts' from chechi somewhat frequently, about once in a couple of months, and my parents 'enjoyed' the freedom provided by the presence of chechi to 'handle' me. Overall, it was a near-perfect happy family set-up. One day, I had an impulsive thought - how about making an e-mail ID for chechi? It would be a surprise to her. Just a few hours ago, chechi had given me a small 'gift' for a 'verbal clash' with father over a trivial matter. So, this would be a 'return gift' to her! Just as I completed the process of creating the mail ID, thoughts of another 'prank' crossed my mind - 'I've made this ID to give chechi a surprise, so what about another surprise as well?' Without thinking too much, I drafted a 'test mail' starting 'I just created my first mail ID...' and sent it to one of chechi's friends who is also our relative. After sending the mail, I went to chechi's house - to give her my 'gift' - a paper on which I had written the mail ID and its password.
When I handed over the paper to chechi, her response was not exactly what I expected. After a customary 'thanks', chechi shot me a question: 'Gifting me a mail ID is fine, but did you send any mail using this ID?' Don't know why, the immediate reply that came to my mind was 'No'. Then I added, 'Of course, I had sent a 'test mail' to my ID', as if giving an explanation. Chechi went into her room with the paper and returned a few moments later. As soon as she came out to the hall, she asked me to stand up from the sofa where I was sitting. I obeyed, thinking that it may be because my position on the sofa was blocking a part of the doorway as my legs were close to the door. It was only when three 'firecrackers' exploded one after ther other right on my buttocks that I learned that chechi also had prepared a 'surprise' for me in return to my 'surprise gift'. Chechi's response was a real shocker - not only to me but to her mother as well. Chechi didn't stop there - not one or two, but seven more strokes followed, six of them on the buttocks and one on the left thigh, even as her mother watched in disbelief and tried to intervene. (It was only during the subsequent conversation that I learned that chechi's friend to whom I had sent the mail had called chechi even before I reached home and that chechi had decided the 'special gift' for me the moment she knew that it was me who had created the mail ID and sent the mail. She had gone to the room only to take the cane her mother used to use for punishing her daughters to give me the 'gift' promptly.)
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During the period I spent doing some software courses after completing B. Tech. as a precursor to my transition from the role of a student to that of a 'job hunter', chechi and her (and mine as well!) beloved 'friend', 'Ms. Cane', didn't get enough rest as expected. Reason: Even though I had ditched the 'student getup', I hadn't quit the other role - that of a 'whipping boy' for myself - that I had been playing since years - though I used to become a 'good boy' occasionally, thanks to the 'special treatment' I used to get from chechi every few months.
It was during those days that I befriended a group of youngsters, nearly my age, who used to come to the compound on the other side of the road in front of our house for playing cricket and spending time. Before long, I made it a practice to join them whenever I could get free time - ignoring the dangers of playing a 'long range' game like cricket close to the main road. One day, during a tightly contested match, a 'sixer' I hit - a rare one at that - sent the ball crashing on to the front wondscreen of a car that was parked on the roadside. No prizes for guessing the fate of the glass hit by a 'virtual missile' flying at a speed more than that of the vehicles plying on the road...! While we were talking with the owner of the car, trying to extract a compromise, chechi happened to come visiting. She could judge the situation just by having a look at the scene. She took me home and promptly switched to 'action mode'. The 'performance' was a 'special one' - making me strip the 'lungi' I was wearing, leaving me clad in the bare minimum 'essentials', similar to the style she adopted on an earlier occasion - that too, right in front of 'Damodarettan' - our neighbour and relative - and his children. What chechi gave me - giving a 'rarest gem of luck' to Athira - who always loved to watch me getting caned by chechi - and Adarsh - was not just one or two, but as many as sixteen superb strokes of the cane - each of them competing with the others in quest of perfection while landing across the buttocks.
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Armed with the B. Tech. Degree and a couple of software courses that I had completed after the college days, I spent a few months 'job-hunting'. At that time, a distant relative who was living in Mumbai offered me an opportunity to work for a small software company where he was working. The acceptance of the offer marked the beginning of my career and 'exile'. The first few months were 'happy days' - I was enjoying the indepedance. However, just like many youngsters of my age, I committed a huge 'blunder' in the office just a few days before completing the first year on job, and it cost me dear - an unexpected 'break' in my career. I had planned to ask for a 'holiday' for a few days and returm to native place after the year-end. However, what I got instead was a 'permanent holiday' from job.
Even though I had informed my parents about losing the job, I hadn't told them the actual reason that led to it. Instead, what I did was to cook up a true-looking 'story' based on a string of events that had taken place a few days back. The strory was so convincing that I was confident enough to present the same story to chechi as well. Seeing her response to my explanation, I felt that she also believed my 'story', just like my parents. But...
A few days after I returned to native place, chechi came home to meet me. During the ensuing conversation, chechi seemed to be very compassionate - a very considerate sister who was truly sypathetic towards her brother who had just lost his job. Basking in chechi's caring, consoling and encouraging words, I felt that I had finally succeeded in playing the trick of deceit. But I was too late to identify that the compassionate ambience was only the calm before the storm. Chechi was pretty quick to see through my story and call my bluff. The moment the truth was out, I was sure - It's 'punishment time' once again. As my parents decided to adhere to usual practice and accorded their unanimous approval, the stage was set for chechi's beloved 'friend' to return to work - after an year-long gap. Even though chechi was devoid of any serious 'practice' for months on end, chechi's 'performance' was brilliant. Her decision, combined with the 'recommendation' of Athira, a close relative and 'naughty little neighbour' who always loved to watch me getting caned by chechi, fetched me fourteen superb strokes, twelve on the buttocks and two on the top of the left thigh. It seemed as if the lack of practice had only sharpened her skills and increased her accuracy...!
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I have been having an 'unexplicable' attraction to girls who wear pants and shirt in a formal / semi-formal attire, since my college days. When my long-running passion for photortaphy and availability of a phone with a decent-quality camera combined with it, the result was formation of a collection of photos of pants-and-shirt-clad girls in my phone. Most of those photos were 'natural' - read 'candid' - ones, not 'posed'. (Needless to say, most of them were captured without the subject being aware.) My 'subjects' for those photos included a two - three colleagues also, along with others. This 'candid photography programme' continued unhindered and without causing any harm to anyone for pretty long time. Eventually, it met with its natural outcome - apparently doubtful of my roamoing around with phone in hand, one of my 'subjects' complained to the HR Department. Her suspicion was that I was recording videos secretly. Subsequently, the Head of HR conducted a 'search' of my phone that revealed the photos of a few colleagues including the complainant. However, apparently because there was no video as suspected and no objectionable photos or misuse of photos were found and considering my 'spotless clean image' till then, the proceedings were closed by making me delete the photos and giving an informal oral warning.
I thought that the matter was settled then and there - but someone else had other ideas, and it turned out that the action by HR was only the tip of the iceberg. Unknown to me, among my colleagues was a certain somebody who was a friend of Anju chechi's husband. Chechi came to know about the sequence of those events. A few days later, chechi came visiting (on 12 January) - a 'Mumbai Tour' with husband and children, she said - but that was a decoy, as always. It was only when she brought up the 'photo case' during our casual chat about work, office etc. that I understood the real depth of the 'trap' I had walked into. With Chechi taking the stand that the 'medical condition' that prompts me to indulge in such 'teenish naughty acts' at the age of 40+ called for not just any ordinary medicine but a major 'surgery', it was once again 'Mummy... er... Ms. Cane Returns' - after an almost two-decade-long gap - and that too, in a new 'avatar' which is much more beautiful, flexible and efficient than the old. As the watchful eyes of her children seemed to enhance the mother's performance, she went on to script history delivering her best. Bringing back the three-decade-old memories, Chechi's 'Masterpiece' made me soil my briefs, skinning my near-naked buttocks - Sixty-six 'super-heavy-duty' strokes - sixty on the buttocks and six near the top of the thighs...! Stroke number forty-five to fifty were accompanied by a warm stream that trickled down the right thigh, and the final six credited Chechi with the 'enviable record' of having made the forty-two year-old younger brother defecate by caning! By the end of the 'show' that sent the previous record of twenty four into oblivion, there wasn't even a centimetre of intact skin left on my buttocks. Sheer brilliance that was...!
Schedule of Chechi's 'Perfrormance':
| Time | Event |
| 11:45 | 'Trial' of the accused started. |
| 11:50 | Judgement pronounced - Punishment: Caning on the buttocks, clad in briefs only |
| 11:53 | Execution of the Punishment: Chechi started the caning. |
| 12:08 | Forty-Fifth stroke: I, started urinating. Continued over the next five more strokes |
| 12:16 - 12:19 | Final Six strokes (61 - 66), in full force.
I was forced to defecate by the first stroke itself, repeated with every subsequent stroke. |
| 12:19 | Winding up - Chechi put the cane down after completing the punishment.
I thanked her for the "Gift", embraced and kissed her. |
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~ വിജി പിണറായി ~
~ Viji Pinarayi ~
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