Sinister British Boarding Schools

I don’t know about you, but when I hear that a book is set in a British boarding school, my ears immediately perk up. Particularly when the school is described as strange or sinister. Or strict.
Now, all accolades for the following discovery go to Kessily, who has typed it all up and posted about it on the soc.sexuality.spanking newsgroup, but I can’t help telling everybody that a fantasy book “Orphans of Chaos” by John C. Wright is filled with spanking references and detailed descriptions of spanking like a scone with sultanas.

Consider this:

Headmaster Boggin stepped around me and seated himself on the rail. My elbow was still in his fist. I was pulled half-turned around, not quite facing him.

“In fact, to throw a monster who tries to escape into a dungeon is a good policy, but it is clearly not the right thing to do to a girl who breaks her word and tries to break open a teacher’s head with a rock.”

“What are you going to do?” I said. There was a gleam in his eye. Call it a Grendel gleam, but I have seen it in Colin’s eye too.

I knew from the gleam what he was going to do. But there are some things that just come out of your mouth, no matter how dumb they sound, whether you want them to or not. The only thing possibly stupider to say in a situation like this is something like, “You wouldn’t dare!”

Boggin looked deeply into my eyes, as if pleased at the uncertainty he saw growing there.

“Miss Windrose, our agreement was not that you would not make me ashamed of you. Our agreement was that you would do nothing to make me regret my decision. I have a terrible headache because someone hit me in the head with a rock. Surely, I am right to regret that?”

I would have had as much chance resisting the force of a wild stallion as I did resisting the strength of his arm.

He pulled me facedown across his knees. The railing he sat on was high, and I could not reach the floorboards with my feet. My hands flailed in midair a moment, and then I grabbed the poles of the railing, which were to my left. “I must see to it that you regret it, too, and in a fashion which will bring home to you quite forcefully that you are not as old as you think you are.

I was breathless; a shy feeling was actually sending tremors through me. All my skin trembled with goose pimples as all my little hairs stood up. This made my skin more sensitive; I could feel every nuance of the texture and fabric of my skirt, which suddenly seemed quite flimsy and thin on my bottom. I could feel the air on my exposed upper legs. I could feel the muscles in his legs beneath my stomach.

I said the dumb thing again, “What are you going to do–?!” It did not sound any better the second time around. Higher-pitched. More girlish.

He did not bother answering that, but he held one hand on the small of my back, and waited while I kicked my legs in midair. There was nothing within the range of my feet to get a purchase on.

What was he going to do? I knew what he was going to do.

Et cetera. There’s much more to this quote, and there are plenty others in Kessily’s write-up.

Dear John C. Wright… are you on Laura’s Spanking Corner too?