The Spanking Writers

My eyes would be drawn towards a Guardian book review titled “Instrument of Torture” yesterday, wouldn’t they? In it, the magnificent Simon Callow critiques a new account of “Elizabeth’s Spy Master: Francis Walsingham and the Secret War that Saved England”.

What took me aback, though, was that the previous day I’d put the almost-finishing-touches to a new story, “The Housemaster’s Secret Diary”, in which one of the young ladies was named… Elizabeth Walsingham. Now that’s what I call a weird coincidence.

We’ll publish the new story here first once we’ve set up the other side of the site. (As I think we’ve mentioned, before too long this blog will be complemented by a free archive of the many spanking stories that we’ve both written). To whet your appetite, here’s an extract from this latest effort. The cynical diarist is supervising a group of girls from his posh public school on an outdoor adventure course; a cracked window has just been discovered.

It has to have been a ghost that broke the window. None of the girls was anywhere near it, or so they assure me, so adamantly that it would be funny were it not so pathetic.

I should have thrashed the lot of them until a confession was forthcoming.

I probably would have done, had it been term-time in Buckinghamshire, not half-term in North Wales.

And a few of them – the ones in my House - know that; a couple of them have even been on the less comfortable end of my cane in the past. Jennifer was looking quite nervous, for example, as it clearly didn’t require too much of a memory feat for her to realise that I wasn’t issuing idle threats when I reminded them that I was acting on behalf of ALL of their Housemasters whilst we were away, and was invested with FULL authority in every respect.

Including discipline.

And that I did have a cane with me.

Just in case.

I enjoyed writing this one, drawing heavily on memories of youthful Cadet Force camps in Snowdonia. These trips lacked the spankings, of course, whilst my public school was nowhere near as distinguished as the one these characters attend. I do rather suspect that that sweet, innocent schoolboy me would have been stunned (but very pleasantly surprised) had he known that he’d end up writing spanking stories for mass consumption!