The Spanking Writers

I posted t’other day about a company manufacturing polo sticks, whose staff make an annual pilgrimage to remote areas to hunt down the rattan harvest. It made me ponder the origins of the use of this particular material for corporal punishment purposes.

I wonder who first looked at a length of rattan and decided, “That’s the material I’ve been looking for all this time. I must purchase some forthwith from the local farmers, and export it to the finest schools in the Empire.”

Perhaps tales were told of a few villages, deep in the forest , where the local girls were unusually well-behaved? “Head forty miles up river, old chap, hire a donkey, trek for two days – and you’ll come to the region in question.”

Or was it perhaps some marketing ploy in the mid-1800s by the farmers concerned: sitting round at their annual sales conference, brainstorming ways in which they could diversify away from an over-dependence on the furniture market?

Then again….. I’m reading a book at the moment about leisure in the Victorian era (“Consuming Passions” by Judith Flanders – very highly recommended). The opening chapter deals at length with the Great Exhibition of 1851 – that landmark event in the development of society and enterprise. Perhaps that was the moment at which the cane became popular: “Stand 498. A length of rattan from the east, designed for the discipline of young ladies.” Maybe the Prince Consort noticed it on one of his many visits to the Crystal Palace, and his patronage led to the gentlemen of the day placing large orders?

Speaking of the Victorians, and meandering aimlessly in my kinky thoughts, I’m reminded that I read a review of a CD by a new band the other day. They’re called “The Victorian English Gentlemen’s Club”. I can just imagine such an august body, gathering weekly in their splendid Pall Mall premises to try out the latest batch of canes purchased from the Exhibition. Their constitution would require them to bring with them any of their servant girls who may have misbehaved in the previous week, for discipline in front of the assembled group. Learned discussions on caning technique would follow, with proceedings written up into leather-bound books.

All this talk of caning is making me want to fetch Haron. A rare bout of tidying up last weekend before my parents came to stay means that our spare bedroom – usually impenetrably untidy – is completely clear. Acres of cane-swinging space. Seems a shame to waste it…

This is just so cute:

I found it on a science-fiction discussion board, would you believe. In the middle of an entirely unrelated conversation. It was startling enough that I jumped and squealed, as though my own bottom was under attack.

P.S. Please, if you want to use it, do not link directly to it, save it to your own server. Bandwidth is costly, and we’re broke enough.

How about this for a job?

Twice a year we travel to Malasia, Indonesia and Singapur to find the best canes to be processed in Argentina.

We must reach remote locations near the jungle.

Canes grow far in the mountains.

When monkeys eat the fruit, their remainders fall on the ground as seeding for a new plant to grow.

Trials have been made to artificially grow the plant but the results have failed to live up to expentations.

Harvesters must travel for 15 days into the jungle to find the canes.

(Seems as though they make polo sticks, by the way. But I wonder if they do special orders?).

You have to weep (with laughter) for the fate of Eric Wildman, who was a canemaker and a crusader for the retention of corporal punishment in the middle of last century.

One day in 1948 he was invited into a school called Horsley Hall to give a lecture, and to show off his canes, resulting in the following contemporary story in Time magazine:

Wildman, who likes publicity, readily accepted and brought samples of his best canes with him. “Aren’t they beautiful?” he asked, and thereupon launched happily into his lecture about his canes (“My canes are antiseptic”), and how they should be used. [...]

“Tell me, Mr. Wildman,” asked [the Headmaster Robert Copping], “what is the most suitable cane for a boy 15 years old or over?” Wildman brandished his prized 30-inch Dragon Smoky Malacca, “a very pliant and punishing cane.” “And how many strokes do you advise?” Headmaster Copping asked. Smiling, Wildman suggested “Six of the best, in the place that seems to have been provided by nature for the purpose.” At that point, Headmaster Copping gave a signal.

Immediately, 20 boys rushed Mr. Wildman. One grabbed his 30-inch Dragon Smoky Malacca. Others held him in position.

[...]

That afternoon, Eric Wildman stopped off at the nearest hospital. “I’ve nine visible weals on my buttocks,” he reported. “I’ve never suffered such indignity in my life.”

Curiously enough, this didn’t change his mind at all: he continued campaigning for the beating of children for another few years, releasing pamphlets with charming titles like “Modern Miss Delinquent,” “Girl Training”and “Punishment Postures ” (with pictures).

He was finally prosecuted in 1953, but went on selling his canes for a good 20 years afterwards, according to Corpun‘s Colin Farrell.

I posted a while back about the Legislative Council of Western Australia’s proposal to re-introduce birching. I’ve now had a chance to dig out a couple more debates on the issue.

Deputy Frank Hough is clearly an enthusiastic advocate of traditional measures:

“Who will receive the birch? That is a good question. The penalty should apply to both adults and repeat juvenile offenders… Women will be given the birch across the palm of the hand. I am not talking about casually applied, random flogging, whipping or stoning; I am talking about birching for summary offences in controlled conditions.”

He continued:

“Another thing about the birch for violent offenders is that, if only for the short time of the punishment, the offender is made to understand the utter helplessness, pain and vulnerability experienced by his victim in the process of the crime.”

This would be cool if it were a speech from some spanko convention, as part of an elaborate scene. But people voted this guy into office in the real world? There was more:

“The birch should not be applied at an indiscriminate time but only after a session of counselling just in case there is any doubt in the mind of the offender that there is a connection between the crime and the punishment. The offender will be birched and have explained to him the link between his actions, society’s unwillingness to accept antisocial behaviour and the punishment…

The offenders who are to be birched should be consulted or consoled. Why they are to receive that punishment should be explained. Offenders should be fully aware of the reason they are to be caned. After that consultation has occurred, the punishment should take place.”

I must remember to ‘console’ Haron before her next birching.

When they finally put the motion to the vote, there were two votes in favour. Sadly for the proposers – and thankfully for the world at large – their 28 colleagues voted against, and the motion was thrown out.

Our new bitter brown ale… is our most complex beer to date. This ale is a wonderfully bitter, incredibly malty and nicely hoppy brew. Amber and Dark Crystal malts, and Willamette and Challenger hops are used in this 5.3 percent alcohol, 84 International Bittering Units (that’s right, 84 IBU) ale. A rich mahogany in colour, this ale blends flavours of fresh bitter coffee, dry caramel and nuttiness with light dry chocolate, woody hop and citric notes.

Pray, why so interesting? Because, dear readers, Scotch and Irish Brewing are describing their latest ale:

“Corporal Punishment”!!!

Further investigation uncovers a beer-aficionado’s review board, describing the characteristics of Corporal Punishment, including “bitterness that builds in intensity”, a “Bitter finish, with a woody aftertaste” and complains that it can be “a bit astringent”.

Quite.

I’m not saying Abel’s dad is a total and utter brat. No, I’m not saying that. But visiting of the weekend, he looked out at the clothes drying on our line outside – and suggested that we hang the colours out using the semaphore code to send rude messages to the neighbours.

“Sod off, you silly old bat!” – spelled out in t-shirts and towels.

I adore the twin sites “Overheard in New York” and “Overheard in the Office“. They’re vanilla sites, but a few of the snatched conversations are certainly…. interesting. Here are a few I’ve clipped in recent weeks:

Guy #1: Give me a break. I’ve been here since 6 AM!
Guy #2: Why would you do that to yourself?
Guy #1: Well, I’ve been a very bad boy, and I deserve a spanking. But that’s too expensive here in the city so instead I do this.
(14 August – 469 7th Avenue, New York, New York)

Teenage girl #1: Oh my God, I forgot to tell you! I lost my fake ID!
Teenage girl #2: Shit! Your mom’s gonna kill you!
(4 August – G train)

Employee #1: Dave*, you’re what, 27? You’re too young to get married. You need to wait until you’re 35 and then marry a 23 year old. Birthing is just “bam! bam! bam!”– brutal on them. So you need to marry young.
Employee #2: So I need to work here for 8 years and marry a girl who is just graduating from here?
Employee #3: Start looking, man. She’s in high school now.
Employee #2: She’d be what, 15? Hey, Jim*, how old are your daughters?
Employee #1: 13 and 15…Shut up!
(14 August – 3800 Victory Parkway, Cincinnati, Ohio)

Female co-worker: Yeah, these bruises on my legs? I wish I could say they were from S&M. Actually, I was just drunkenly stumbling around.
(11 August – 33 New Montgomery Street, San Francisco, California)

Teacher: You know, now that they are both 18, we can rape them, and it wouldn’t be considered statutory.
(2 August – 2 Stewart Place, Eastchester, New York)

Suit #1: I get turned on when the person I’m with is enjoying herself and I’m giving pleasure.
Suit #2: That’s the difference between you and a necrophiliac.
(10 August – Hatsuhana Park restaurant, 46th & Park)

Female customer: My sunglasses are broken. One of the screws fell out, and a guy in here yesterday said they would replace them with a new pair.
Woman behind counter: Oh, I remember you. You’re just looking for a screw, right?
Female customer, after entire store stops laughing: Aren’t we all, really?
(2 August – 1051 North Rush Street, Chicago, Illinois)

Abel pulled me over his outstretched legs and landed a few energetic smacks on my jean-clad behind, keeping to the rhythm of the music of our favourite brass band.

What he seemed to be forgetting was that we were sitting on the grass at an open-air concert: quite close to the stage, with about 300 people behind us.

Luckily, the old dears with their deck chairs and wine coolers looked more scandalised by snogging teenagers than by the sight of a man spanking his wife. That said, they didn’t cheer on, either.

The UK government intends to legislate to ban pornography that is (1) violent, or about (2) necrophilia or (3) bestiality.

Anyone who accuses them of flogging a dead horse in their search for votes would be entirely unjustified.

PS actually, it’s only ‘life-threateningly’ violent, before any readers get worried about their stash of spanking movies… not that that particular climb-down from their original position featured strongly in the government’s PR blitz this week.