I just wandered past an old-fashioned hardware shop, one of a dying breed. A carefully-hung selection of mops and brushes fluttered in the breeze; peering inside, I spied a veritable treasure-trove of household essentials.
The friendly proprietor of a neighbourhood store such as this would know everyone, be at the heart of the community. Children would be despatched by their parents on errands; smiling down at them, he’d check their order, wrap their goods with brown paper and string, and teach the youngest how to count out their change.
He’d have a special drawer, of course. I imagined one young lady, in her smart school blazer, nervously perusing the shelves inside as I walked past, sniffing the shop’s distinctively clean air, waiting for the coast to clear of other shoppers. He’d welcome her warmly: he would have known her since she’d been a little girl. He’d have heard of her successes – the scholarship to the Grammar School, the prize-winning poems.
And now she’d be telling him, under her breath, that her daddy had sent her to buy a strap from the special drawer. He wouldn’t hear the first time: she’d have to repeat herself louder, glancing over her shoulder lest anyone had entered the shop.
And he’d shake his head sadly. He’d know that she was an only child: there could be no confusion as to her imminent fate. And he’d reach into his drawer, and rummage around for the lightest strap he had left, and parcel it up carefully as a tear trickled down her cheek.
Abel,
You are sick! Just kidding. I’m glad to see that you and Haron got your blog going. I’ll be sure to haunt it and harrass you two frequently. Oh, and if you’re having trouble figuring out who I am, have Haron take a look at it, I’m sure she’ll know.
Cheers,
Bessie
My dear Bessie, it took all of about 0.5 seconds for us to work out your identity! Honestly, using a made-up name when posting to a website. That’s surely a spankable offence. Abel (oh….! owwwww….!)
Does that mean I get to spank you too? The 3 of us could have quite the punishment session over that one..
Bessie
This is quite poignant. Did you know that there is quite a tradition of “The Family Strap”? My wife’s family has had one for nearly 200 years. It is made of fine leather and oiled with neeps foot oil. And it is just like new. How do I know? Because the daughter of the family who needs it the most, by common consent, is given the strap as a bequest when she marries. It is hers to keep, but her husband’s to use. Well that “daughter” is my wife, and I am the husband who uses it, quite regularly.
We call Meddy, for Medicinal Strap. So that means I can say in public, Oh I think Meddy might be coming over the weekend, and watch my lovely but overstrung better half wince quietly. When it is time to administer “Meddy’s favour”, Sandy (not her real name)has to strip naked from the navel down – bare feet, legs, and bottom. And then fetch Meddy from her secret compartment. Sandy is hand-spanked first and then Meddy has her turn. The tears and shrieks are real, as is the bouncing red bum. The punishment is noted on a piece of parchment that goes in the mahogany container where Meddy lives. I promised that I would never touch or move Meddy unless it was to use her on Sandy’s arse.
So when we moved, Sandy had to pack Meddy up and move her to the car. But the rules also state that Sandy cannot touch or move Meddy unless she is naked from the waist down. We did not have to discuss anything on moving day. That night, while I was working on something else, I looked up and saw a butt-naked Sandy carrying a mahogany case to the car and trailer. It was dark, so most probably nobody saw her, but if they had, what would they have made of it.
Great comments, Myles. Thanks for sharing.
I love the idea of naming an implement so that one can mention it in public!