The Spanking Writers

One could enjoy the thought of a press-gang, roaming a port in search of fit young men for the navy, making the mistake of rounding up a boyish young woman in a new batch of unwilling recruits. Her protests would be ignored, and once at sea, self-preservation would be the order of the day amidst so many sailors far from home comforts.

Condemned, though, to a caning for failing to strip at wash time, the truth would then be discovered. To maintain discipline on board, the captain would decree that her whipping should continue “as if she were one of the men”, before taking her to the supposed safety of his private cabin.

An alternative naval scenario presented itself in a report of a Parliamentary Petition from 1659 describing the conditions facing “white slaves” transported to the colonies:

Elizabeth Dudgeon, had dared to talk back to a guard. She was trussed up to a ship’s grating and mercilessly whipped.

One of the ship’s officers relished watching her whipped: “The corporal did not play with her, but laid it home, which I was very glad to see…she has long been fishing for it, which she has at last got to her heart’s content.”

Time for a trip to the seaside. I wonder if any friendly captains would take us to sea for a day, and look the other way politely whilst Haron was stripped and tied to a mast?

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The picture above may seem slightly risque to you, but it comes from “The Times”, so that makes it OK. Right?

The incident, captured on camera phone, was described in the paper thus:

The woman left a supermarket with three legs of lamb and tried to get away from staff chasing her over a fence. When they grabbed her legs she pulled her trousers off, showing she had no underwear.

Try and guess what Abel thinks is an appropriate punishment for her! I’ll give you a hint:

P.S. If I owe you an email - terribly sorry, but I’m so, so, so busy. I’m making something cool for the blog, though, which should make up for it in the end.

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A nice paragraph from an 1879 book, “A woman’s patience” by Emma Jane Worboise:

Afternoon tea was going on when Mrs. Lauriston and Lady Agneta arrived in Grosvenor Square. There was an ominous cloud on Lady Maria’s brow. Adela wore her gravest mien, and was evidently more subdued than usual. Agneta saluted her aunt in her gayest manner. “We are come to receive your praises,” she cried, taking her favourite low chair, as if certain of a cordial welcome. “We have distinguished ourselves as women of business! We have done all sorts of important things, and made all kinds of necessary arrangements since breakfast-time. Thanks, Addie, I am dying for a cup of tea! Why, my dear child, how dismal you look! If you were a little girl, I should wonder whether you had been whipped…”

One of the author’s other books was apparently called “House of Bondage”. I’m not sure she was writing in quite the genre I have in mind, though.

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How is this for a jolt of hotness out of the blue? This post by Lazy Geisha talks about things completely unrelated to any spanking issues, but this part of it still gave us shivers,* insofar as it relates to our punishment kink:

How many times did we all hear it growing up? That ambiguous phrase levied against us by those in authority to let us know that the cigarette we’d just been caught smoking in the girl’s bathroom would forever be enshrined as a black mark against us on our ‘permanent record’. Though some of us were good girls with spotless permanent records, while others (bats eyelashes and looks around the room) have enough black marks checked off to qualify for frequent flyer miles to the gates of hell and back, twice.

So we all know now that they were just full of shit and no one bothered to look at our permanent records ever again, let alone have the faintest idea where such things might be kept. As a young teenage girl I often wondered if there was some kind of publisher’s clearinghouse of permanent records which could be accessed and used against me later on in life… like maybe when I applied for a mortgage the banker would open up the thick manila folder containing all of the indiscretions of a capricious youth only to discover that I sucked down a Newport in thirty seconds in the second stall of the east wing bathroom in between Biology II and Home Economics and got pinched by that dyke gym teacher who was always after us to take longer showers after running a few laps around the track.

In reality I was a very good girl (i.e. I never got caught). I would have been mortified to be thought of as anything but a very good girl (i.e. writing spanking porn under the desk in my history lesson could never, ever been discovered). That said, I don’t think there was a concept of a “permanent record” in my school, and it strikes me as incredibly creepy for just the reasons described above.

I couldn’t even fantacise about the threat relating to other people.

Somehow the concept of a Punishment Book doesn’t have the same undertone of overall creepiness. Maybe it’s that the record is made by date, rather than by name, and therefore serves more as a chronicle of school life than a KGB dossier.

Maybe it’s that there is no pretence of grudge-holding permanence. (You whispered in a lesson in the first grade! No graduation for you!)
Maybe it’s that it’s hard to imagine a threat of an entry in a Punishment Book being more alarming than the punishment itself.

How much nicer, then, is a fantasy of a new Headmaster, who singlehandedly bans any reference to the ridiculous “permanent record”, and teaches his staff that a proper punishment must be timely, appropriate, and effective enough that it doesn’t require any additional repercussions.

After a punishment comes forgiveness. In my inner school, anyway.
Funny how a fantasy school, a strict establishment though it may be, is a much nicer place to be than any school connected with reality.

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* Because reading sex blogs together on a Sunday morning and indulging in mutual shivering is what all couples do. Isn’t it?

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Any mathematicians out there? Would you care to corroborate this brilliantly bizarre BBC bulletin board entry from 1999?

One of the most important things in Maths is “pi”.

Pi was a little girl who lived in ancient Greece and was born into a cake-eating, wine-drinking Millwallikos-supporting family. Her father was absolutely obese and never stopped eating.

When she was very young, she tried to work out her father’s belt size, and she discovered that his belt size was two times his width times Pi’s age at the time. By a cruel twist of fate, her father’s belt became worshipped as an idol by the idle Mathematicians, who then used it to beat Pi during Maths lessons. The corporal punishment ethic continues in Mathematics to this day.

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Haron just wandered into my office straight after taking a shower. Now, I never can resist a cute, naked woman, and an inevitable swatting followed. Literally: with our leather fly-swat.

After a few whacks, my darling wife commented:

“That doesn’t hurt”

Whilst she’s often given to provocation, that just about wins the prize for “silliest thing to say to a man wielding a spanking implement”. The remaining few did, of course, perhaps more than she would have liked. She’s now standing next to me rubbing her backside ever-so prettily.

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Books by Beatrix Potter completely passed me by when I was a kid, though after reading an article about her in yesterday’s Guardian, I wish they had penetrated the Iron Curtain on time for me to read them. According to Stuart Jeffries, she was a “proselytiser for sadistic punishment”.

Who knew?

“The Tale of Tom Kitten” sounds like a regular spanking story.

The book tells the story of three kittens who get into mischief. Their mother, Tabitha Twitchit, neurotically cleans them and dresses them up, then sends them out with the admonishment that they not get dirty. They not only get dirty, but lose their clothes to some passing ducks…

Tom Kitten and his siblings are smacked and sent to bed for their notional disgrace. Worse yet, when they continue romping in the bedroom, they disturb what Potter calls the ‘dignity and repose of the tea party’. Can the reader who finishes the book rest easy that subversive Tom has triumphed?

No: the fact is Tabitha Twitchit thrashes her children for losing their clothes. Imagine what grisly fate will befall them when she stomps upstairs from her ruined tea party!”

I’m sure that if I had this book as a kid, that’s exactly what I’d have been imagining: again, and again, and again.

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A memoir of 1930s in Castlethorpe Village, Milton Keynes, describes a technique that I might use on Haron:

Discipline was very strict … at the senior school at Wolverton where we had to attend from the age of eleven to fourteen. If you behaved very badly you received six strokes of the cane on your writing hand from the headmaster before returning to the classroom to write five hundred lines containing a reference to the offence.

I wonder what sentence a Machiavellian master could devise. Perhaps:

“I must be a good girl and refrain from using abhorrent, objectionable language to pupils from other neighbouring schools whilst travelling on the bus in the morning in my uniform.”

Yep, that’d keep freshly-caned hands going for a while.

PS I checked the spelling of Machiavellian, as I initially typed it incorrectly. Bizarrely, Word offered “lying face down” as an alternative. My laptop is starting to recognise my writing style, but WRONG POST!

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The Guardian tells us that Tomma Abts, the artist who won this year’s £25,000 Turner Prize, deploys

“a process that mingles disciplined severity with pure intuition”.

I so should have entered.

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So, TeachersTV is supposed to be a channel where they tell teachers about different methods they can use in the classroom.

Does it have to involve, um… you know?

They claim it’s a debate, but with teachers, you never know what they’ll actually be watching…

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