The Spanking Writers

I believe that for at least two hours today I was entirely, completely vanilla. I haven’t had any kinky thoughts at all. For a whole two hours, and maybe more.

That was because I was tired. When I’m tired, I can summon up only marginal interest in spanking. I suppose, a particularly juicy startle will cause a mild twitch of my mouth and a disinterested ‘Oh…’, but I wouldn’t expect any more reaction than that.

Luckily, even a short rest is enough to fix me.

The longest I’ve ever felt completely vanilla was about three months, which was a result of a bad case of flu. Even after the illness was gone, spanking was not a subject I cared to think about, never mind act on. I knew intellectually that something was missing, but I didn’t mind that it was gone: it was as though I’d taken a vanilla pill.

The interest returned very gradually, in almost the precise order that my spanking kink had developed in the first place: school and father/daughter fantasies first, then grown-up scenarios, then other, edgier themes.

Have any of you experienced anything like this? How has it felt to be in the vanilla world?

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As a taxpayer, I’m always pleased when I see examples of our money being spent on worthwhile causes - such as the Department for International Development’s 2005 report on school experiences in Botswana and Ghana. Their findings on Katsir ‘B’ School were particularly worth funding:

Katsir JSS was a high performing urban school originally founded by British and Ghanaian Methodists in 1858. In 1991 the school was divided into two different schools ‘A’ and ‘B’, occupying different parts of the same two-storey building but with a completely different management and staff. The school was located in a middle class residential area about 50 metres from the sea, surrounded by several nationally renowned educational institutions. Many students lived outside the locality. Parents worked in a wide range of occupations, including professionals (doctors, teachers), carpenters, traders and farmers. Their mothers tended to have low paid jobs. In educational terms, the questionnaire sample indicated that 30% of the fathers had university education compared to 8.3% of the mothers.

OK, so doubtless lots of bright, intelligent young ladies there, well-motivated at home. Perfect for my interests. Let’s see what our intrepid British civil servants uncovered on their holiday at the taxpayers’ expenses. (Sorry, important working trip).

In interviews, teachers claimed to praise and punish equally, although the mode and intensity was sometimes different. The head added that the use of corporal punishment, usually administered by male teachers, was not a frequent practice in the school. Most of the caning that was administered did not exceed six lashes and thus was not recorded in the Discipline Book.

From the students’ perspective caning had a negative effect… Others described the disturbing effect of caning on their studies. When a girl was caned in front of the whole school for fighting she said, ‘…after this, coming to school was difficult.’ Another reported that when she was caned for non-payment of school fees, ‘…I felt like never coming to school again.’

Yet another girl put it this way: ‘When I am afraid I will be caned, I find it difficult to come to school’. For other female and male students, their most embarrassing days in school were when they got caned for various offences. Girls in particular disliked corporal punishment, which they were subject to by the teachers and prefects.

In summary, this was a high performing school with low drop out.

The incongruity of the final sentence made me smile, as if the British government officials were somehow trying to establish a link between their previous paragraphs and their conclusion. (Was the report secretly commissioned by the old guard in the UK education department, I wonder?). And how interesting that punishment of six strokes or less are not deemed serious enough to be recorded in the Discipline Book. The look on a girl’s face when the Headmaster tells her that she’s to be punished and reaches for said tome can only be imagined.

I fancy being a civil servant: I need a team to work with me at high salaries and on lavish expenses accounts to investigate caning techniques in Asia. Any candidates out there?

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We had a friend staying with us for the first time,* and, being the good hosts that we are, Abel and I decided it would be nice to take her sight-seeing.** After lunch we had planned a cathedral tour, and she and I were approaching it with a spring in our steps and some chewing-gum in our mouths.

I don’t think Abel approves of chewing-gum very much, although he doesn’t ban it, and even indulgently buys it for me.*** And now he discovered that he had not one, but two gum chewers on his hands. As we were approaching the grand cathedral doors, he told us that it wasn’t appropriate to chew gum in a cathedral, and to spit it out immediately.

I, being a wimp, tossed mine in the bin at once. Our friend, being cheeky, made big eyes and asked:

“What’s wrong with gum in a cathedral?”

“The cathedral is the house of God,” Abel explained in a slightly dangerous voice. “God doesn’t like chewing-gum. Spit it out, now.”

For a very frightening moment I thought she was actually going to spit it at Abel, but luckily she’s a polite girl, to an extent. She only said:

“Does it matter that I’m an atheist, sir?”

Feeling bad for my own earlier cowardice,**** I added:

“It’s her own gum, sir. She bought it. It’s her property. Why should she spit it out?”

Quietly getting to the boil (you can tell by the narrowing of his eyes), Abel too our friend by the shoulder and led her to the nearest bin:

“Somebody you don’t believe in disapproves of chewing-gum in his house. Bin, now.”

She made a great show of pretending to take it out, but then finally, encouraged by the squeezing of fingers on her shoulder and by the dangerous squinting of eyes in front of her, she got rid of the gum.

So you see, no spanking happened at that time. Because either we’re very cowardly, or Abel is very scary.

But we are still unclear on this fundamental issue: does God really disapprove of chewing-gum in church? If so, why? If not, how can we claim our gum back?

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* feel free to identify yourself if you want!
** as nice as staring at the carpet all weekend is, we do allow our guests to go outside
*** if you felt like giving me a present, Marks&Spencer’s berry-flavoured is a current favourite
**** or, perhaps, inherent wisdom

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The web is littered with discussion boards featuring threads on corporal punishment. Many of the entries are clearly works of fantasy; that said, the entertaining fictional interludes come with the added frisson that they might – just – be genuine.

Take the following, from Scarlett, a poster on The Answer Bank:

My school had a cane, and it was very rarely used - but the fact that it was there acted as a deterrent…. In fact I only remember it being used once, on a girl (!) who set a fire extinguisher off. Everyone in the school was SO shocked that the cane was finally being used, we didn’t dare BREATHE next to a fire extinguisher after that!

I can just imagine Haron breathing on fire extinguishers wherever we go in the next few days, just to show off her bravery…

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There are some new blogs in town, and I think you should know about them.

“Ted’s Excellent Adventures” is by, well, by Ted. You might have read his stories on Laura’s Spanking Corner, so he is quite the classic author, you know. Ted is also a long-time poster on the soc.sexuality.spanking newsgroup, which has long been our Internet home.

Kate’s Spanking Journal is written by Katherine James, also a poster on soc.sexuality.spanking. She hasn’t been there long, but has already shown herself to be an excellent writer and a pleasant human being, which is not a bad thing to be. Oh, and she’s a cheerleader. Cool, huh? I’m looking forward to reading what she has to say.

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Lavender from Oklahoma has a MySpace page, on which her friend Theresa recorded an interesting comment on 19 August:

yeah that fun hanging out after school and you eating all of the popsicles..lol..and i do remember when amber got whipped by my mom with the belt..those were good memories and i will always remember them.

Perhaps not so good for Amber? Anyway, Lavender replies on Theresa’s site later the same day:

love you and I am glad we shared those memories too…we need to share more…haaha…Amber getting whipped…just over the water hose…that was so so soooo hillarious…and then once your mom chased you around the house too with the belt…hahaha…love you…

Amber joins the conversation, but strangely, makes no reference to the whipping when she comments the following day, merely complimenting one of the girls on a photo. What a shame!

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We were innocently driving through Norwich city centre when I cried: “Spank Student! Oh my god, there, there, look!”

“Pardon?” Abel, conveniently pausing at the lights, gave me a confused look. Our friend who was with us in the car was similarly puzzled. Of course, we had been talking about spanking just moments before, but for once the conversation had nothing to do with students.

“No, you’re not looking!” I stuck a finger at the window. “There, on the left, where I’m pointing!”

Abel looked and cried: “Oh my god!”

Our friend looked and cried: “Oh my god!”

Here’s what we saw. On the wall of the building we were driving past there stretched a great yellow banner, which said (in big, clear letters visible even in winter dusk):

SPANK STUDENT

And underneath, very helpfully: spankstudent.com

There was no hint as to what this was actually advertising - a shop? a newspaper? a bar? a national campaign for the introduction of corporal punishment in universities?

Not that it matters, but it’s a chain of clubs (the dancing and booze kind, not the fetish kind), which appears to run discos in several UK towns. The origins of the name are not at all obvious from their home page, though their logo is unequivocal:

You can get merchandise with that picture, you know. Not the hottest spanking pic on the web, but you can’t be picky about what sort of spanking references you catch in the wild just by driving around.

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This week’s best of the sex blogs from the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasmer participants.

This Week’s Picks
My Response to The Government’s Pushing of Celibacy on Adults! (http://totalsensuality.blogspot.com)
“We should teach that SEX IS ABOUT PLEASURE.”

Flying in the Face of Censorship (http://www.suzanneportnoy.com)
“But these days, the UK is Europe’s frisky frontier, and the hotties are flying in from all over.”

Life as an Adult Cam Worker (http://www.model-chat.com)
“Experiment with days and times to find out what’s the best time for you to be on live.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Our fearless leader promises he will leave the marathon orgy and be back to blogging soon. In the meantime enjoy one from the vault.
3 Porn Based Urban Legends (http://sugarbank.com)

Editors’ Choice
Home Run (http://junohenry.wordpress.com)

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

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My ears pricked wandering past a gaggle of gossipers in the office first thing this morning, as one of the ladies commented, “He kept giving me that Headmaster look all day. You know?”

No, I don’t: care to enlighten me? Is that the “I’ve seen what you’re doing” look? The “I’ll deal with you later” look? The “I understand I’ll be seeing you in my office at lunchtime”, or the “Ah, there you are”?

The “Feigned surprise at the severity of your misdeeds”, the “I’m disappointed in you”, the “You’d better not argue with me?” Or the “I’m now going to hurt you” or the “I wonder how you’re going to take this?” or the “Averting my eyes, up to a point” as the girl adjusts her uniform for punishment?

Perhaps it was the unseen look: from behind, the girl bent over, feeling his eyes on her. The concentration as he measured the cane, the smile of satisfaction at the quality of his ever-so-precise handiwork?

Or the “I wonder if that got through to her”, the “I know you’re not really a bad girl” - and the genuine, re-assuring “I hope this is our last such encounter” combined with the “Intrigued as to whether you will ever be back for more”.

Perhaps I should go over and ask her for clarification?

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Yesterday afternoon I had the dubious pleasure of returning home by bus at about the time local schools send their pupils home. In the absence of organised transportation for schoolkids in England, at about 4pm every day the local bus effectively turns into a school bus.

I can’t fault the kids’ behaviour, really: they were on the whole a pleasant bunch, it’s just there were so many of them, in their variously coloured school ties, with huge folders pressed to their chests, chatting over the heads of other bus passengers. It was a little cramped.

To distract myself, I imagined I was on a different school bus entirely: as a middle-school girl on an organised field trip to a museum, for example. My best friend had a cold and was forced to stay behind, and nobody wants to sit with me or talk with me, and all the snooty six-formers are behaving as though the whole thing is beneath them… I just know that in a few minutes this cauldron will boil over, at which point the supervising prefect will snap: “That’s it! I’m reporting the lot of you to Dr. Jenkins the moment we’re back!” And we will all get caned - even though I’m doing nothing wrong, I’m telling you, nothing!..

Lost as I was in this fantasy, I didn’t fail to notice one of the girls take her tie off her neck and wrap it around her forehead instead, hippy headband-style. In my school, on my bus, one of my fantasy schoolgirls would know better.

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