The Spanking Writers

The memoirs of Dr. Lewis, Headmaster of the highly-regarded Victoria Institution in Kuala Lumpur from 1955 – 1962, show him to have been a master tactician when it came to disciplinary matters:

“Soon after my arrival, I discovered that we had a few boys who belonged to gangs associated with Chinese secret societies… I decided to nip matters in the bud and caned six boys who we discovered were members of Gang 21.

…I discovered that our juvenile gangsters belonged almost entirely to Gang 21 and the 08 Gang, so by playing one off against the other I gained much useful information. The procedure I used was the one my own housemaster successfully used when I was at school, and that was to isolate the culprits in a separate room, persuade them to confess, and to suggest that one of them was informing on the other. But in my case I made sure that they all confessed in writing and so could not retract at a later date. I soon found that members of Gang 21 were eager to tell me which of our schoolboys were members of the 08 Gang and of their evil deeds, and vice versa!

So in due course I was able to discover the names of most of our boys who were in gangs… I was loath to expel such boys, but endeavoured to change their ways by the liberal administration of the old-fashioned remedy always kept in a Headmaster’s office.

Of course many claimed that they had been forced to join through fear, so I decided that the only solution was to create a greater fear, and rather rashly warned that in future anybody found to be a member of Gang 21 would be caned 21 times, 08 Gang 8 times and so on. It must have had some effect for the only one caught thereafter was a member of the 08 gang…

There were three canes in the office… a thick one, a medium one and a thin one. I allowed him to choose his cane so that there should be no animosity between us. Unfortunately he chose the thin one, that is, for him it was the worst choice.

I’ve been rummaging around in the school’s archives, and have unearthed other fascinating gems; I’ll post more before very long.

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Yesterday we ended up in our favourite second-hand bookshop, and completely cleared it out of anything even vaguely related to any facet of our kink. One of our precious finds was a book by A. Davidson “Blazers, Badges and Boaters: a Pictorial History of School Uniform”.

It does have many fine pictures, which will be very helpful in assembling uniforms for my future imaginary schools. It also has the following amusing passage in the chapter on distinctions in uniform:

The prefect’s most terrifying insignia of authority, albeit on the periphery of school uniform, is the cane. Its swishing sound is enough to set many a junior’s teeth on edge, even if it is not applied to his back seat.

The cane, when it is applied, proves a far harsher instrument of punishment in the hands of an eighteen year old boy than in those of a doddering old schoolmaster. However, sadism and sexual thrills have been known to motivate both. If canes were not available, walking sticks would do, and prefects at Haileybury College were wont to put the latter to full use.

I think, my own doddering old schoolmaster will be quick to dispute the fact that any eighteen-year-old could give a more painful caning than him.

It would make an awfully amusing competition, actually. Trust me, I would not bet on the youngster.

Edit: Well, of course, this is a post by Haron, not Abel. That’ll teach me to steal his computer…

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A spanking get-together last month was followed, that evening, by dinner in a particularly fine restaurant. (The pheasant, my darlings, was simply divine!)

The staff were immaculate: polite, attentive. Waitresses were neat in austere black skirts and white blouses, with that professionally-ever-so- slightly-submissive demeanour that works so well for me for some strange reason.

Strange thing was, the waitress looking after our table was the spitting image of one of the girls who’d been caned at the earlier party. It wasn’t actually her, but I wondered whether she knew what her virtually-identical twin sister was into.

There’s an interesting angle on this, of course: the team from the Judicial Punishment Centre must *eat*. They’d choose a popular restaurant nearby.

Either, a young lady might find herself waiting on their table at lunchtime, knowing precisely who they were but they oblivious to the fact that she was due to be one of their afternoon visitors.

Or, perhaps better, a girl may have to head painfully to work in the evening, after her judicial flogging, wiping away the tears - only to find that the officers who’d punished her had arrived for dinner…

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We love The Punishment Book, a collection of accounts of real-life domestic discipline to which Haron occasionally, ruefully contributes. The post I’m going to select as the final (and my favourite) of our tour around other spanking blogs isn’t about a specific punishment, though. It’s our dear friend Mija’s entry from the start of this year, marking the tenth anniversary of her online delurk, on alt.sex.spanking.

At the time I was 29, in the middle of the first year of my MA program and floundering in an unhappy marriage that had taken my 20s and left me feeling far older than I was. My (now) ex husband saw my interest in spanking as “outside any idea” he could have about me. I’d buried my desires deep, only to have them reappear, triggered by writings of feminist Dorothy Allison.

ASS/SSS gave me another world and life to be part of, a place where I could write and post the fantasies that had made up my inner life for years.

Mija goes on to describe how she started to swap emails with Pablo, who quickly “seemed like the only person in the world who knew and cared for me”. They’ve now been married for over two years.

My life is happier now than I even could have imagined then. I owe more to this community then I can express. It’s hard to know what to write. My best friends, parties, playmates, scenes and loves have come from here. This place and you people have given me more than I could ever hope to return.

This summer I’ll turn 40. I’m in the final year (or so) of my doctoral program. My 30s have been the most wonderful time of my life and I feel so fortunate to have found ASS/SSS, the scene and all that has come from those discoveries.

I look forward to the next decade. Life takes swings and steps backwards sometimes, but ultimately it seems to always get better.

Ten years ago today I discovered the spanking community. I really believe it was the most significant thing that will ever happen to me.

This is truly touching stuff – and Mija’s very personal post speaks for so many in its exposition of the joy that the internet has brought to those of us who share this kink. (And we’re especially proud that quite a few folks have chosen The Spanking Writers as their own safe, friendly place to delurk).

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I got terribly excited seeing the picture of this skin-tight outfit in the Sunday Times, for a number of reasons.

Firstly, (you may skip this part if you’re not a geek) because what we’ve been told about the space-age babes was true: astronauts really may swap the shapeless gas-filled sacks for sexy cat-suits we’ve seen on book covers and superhero movies. This here is the developer of the BioSuit demonstrating her creation. It’s just… cool.

Secondly - it can’t just be me who’s wondering what this outfit looks like from the back. Partcularly, if she bends over. If ever I saw a suit that would hug a bottom in the most appealing way, this is it.

(I notice, there are stretchy black patches in places where the body is supposed to bend. Does it mean there’s a patch like that underlining her bottom cheeks?)

Unfortunately, my fantasies about paddling at the Space Academy were dashed by the article: the suit “must protect the body from … strikes by debris.” This sounded to me like, no matter how hard you hit, a bottom in this suit is just too well-padded.

Ah, well. The space cadets would just have to strip before their paddling. That’s OK with me, too.

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From time to time, we discover wonderful new blogs thanks to links from folks who comment here. One such is Abby’s “The Little Red Schoolhouse“. Her post of 19 July is truly wonderful; it builds up through a discussion of punishment to a beautiful and poignant ending:

And when I do break, when I do begin to weep silent slow tears, then sob, when I can’t hold back a cry with every stroke, when I know I’ve built up to it, have earned it, have struggled through every part of my mind and have released it all, I can let go.

Every pain throughout the day is gone. Every familial agony and workplace drama is released in the whoosh of his chosen implement. Swish. I pay every bill in full. Crack. I am beautiful and striped and proud. Then, slice, I’m only a little girl. I’m only a little girl. With each stroke, this is all I know now.

I collapse into him afterwards, this little girl fully punished, released of all her sins and the sins of those around her, and he holds me, curls around me, gently, whispering how proud he is of me. My hips begin to rise and writhe, pressing back against him even with the pain, and I am a woman, ready to carry the weight of the world once again.

There’s lots more great stuff in the first few posts on what is still a very new site; well worth a browse.

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A nice anecdote from a pupil at John Ruskin Grammar School, dating from the late 1960s:

I was taught physics by Messrs Cook and Preddy - I believe it was Mr. Cook who used to administer the rank of lance-corporal, corporal, or sergeant to wrong-doers using a chalked cane.

That’d be one stripe, two stripes or three, for those of you unfamiliar with British army terminology…

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Kirsten Ellison’s Yahoo 360 page, “Curtseygirl”, offers some delightful writing. Her opening strapline (and I’d never pondered the juxtaposition of ‘strap’ and ‘line’ until writing that!) advises:

Make friends with Australian girls: their ancestors were British convicts so they enjoy being flogged.

One particular post that caught my eye was “A Rose in Bloom”. It’s an interesting writing experiment – as Kirsten says, “I thought that since I see myself within 360 as a writer rather than a spanko I’d try out a few other ways of writing than simple narrative”.

The introduction is in a conventional enough style:

Kirsten was somewhere between pleased and frightened. Why she had been invited to speak at the Sixteenth International Biennial Convocation on Discipline in Schools at Wrest Point Casino was beyond her understanding, but that she had been asked to speak on the subject “Christian Scriptural Understandings upon the Use of Physical Means of Sanction” had left her stunned.

She allowed herself a brief scan of the platform: sitting two seats down from her was a Catholic Monsignor from Rome: surely he’d have been a better option on the topic, since whilst Kirsten was most certainly Christian, and of the Biblical mindset, she did not believe that flogging was the answer to very much at all.

This, after all, was the twenty-first century; the age of Samuel Marsden, “The Flogging Parson”, had passed, even in Van Dieman’s Land. Sitting between her and his grace was Sir Stephen Aldwych, former Secretary of State for Education in HM (British) Government, and former head master of Kirsten’s own girlhood school. Indeed it was Sir Stephen who had served Kirsten with her only experience of corporal punishment whilst she had been a pupil.

The neat thing in the writing is the way she presents the speech. I’ll share just the opening – click over to Kirsten’s blog is you’re curious to see the rest:

“Good morning your Excellency, Madam Premier, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for your welcome: it is indeed a great privilege to be home, and to be speaking to you on a topic so close to my heart. I must admit to a bout of nerves at this point, speaking not only in the presence of both the Governor of Tasmania and the Premier, but also of Sir Stephen, my former head-master. When last we shared a desk in the same room I was bent across it…

Laughter

“…I trust the same shall not be required of me today.”

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There’s no actual spanking here, and I’m kinda glad about that. But I could still find inspiration in this story from the Sunday Times:

A mother has confiscated her son’s door keys, cut off his allowance and taken him to the police station for staying out late. And never mind that her son is 61 years old. “My son does not respect me,” complained the mother from Caltagirone, Sicily. “He doesn’t tell me where he’s going in the evenings and returns home late. This can’t go on.” According to La Sicilia newspaper, the son told police his mother didn’t give him enough pocket money and was a poor cook.

And I thought my arguments with my mum were going on for a bit too long…

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Stefanie von Platen’s blog on her Yahoo 360 page is often of interest. One recent post, “Punishment Friday”, was particularly entertaining. I love the way her Headmistress sets the scene:

Sitting at my desk, sipping my tea in silence, I went over the list of pupils that still were outside. One pupil from year 10. Two pupils from year 11. And two seniors from year 12. Two of those five, Jenny Woods from 10B and Caroline Fletcher from 12A had been caught smoking. Even if she did not know it yet this earned those two the honour of being put to the end of the line. Wilhelmsen International Institute had a strict non-smoking policy, the girls were in for exemplary and severe punishment.

Putting my cup away, I pressed the button on the intercom.

“Linde-Louise, please sent in the next one. Oh, and remember that Woods and Fletcher will be last, and come in together.”

This made Lisa Müller next, a 16 year old girl who had been sent here for tardiness and missing homework. She had been in my office before and certainly knew what to expect.

She walked in slowly, her head lowered. Her uniform looked neat. ‘Well, at least she knew how to attend a “meeting” with the headmistress’, I thought to myself.

Oh, how nice! (And how I wish I could write spanking stories in a second language, like Stephanie, who’s from Germany. Says he, remembering that English is at best Haron’s third language). Poor Lisa is scolded then ordered into position:

I watched her as she obediently grabbed her skirt and pulled it up above her waist. She then laid her chest over my desk and grabbed the far side with her hands. I picked up the junior cane and moved into position.

Canings galore follow, before the two smokers appear to face the music:

“Fletcher, Woods. You both know why you are here. Let me tell you I am disgusted! Smoking is one of the worst habits there is, and neither the school rules nor I myself have any tolerance for it. And you two won’t either, when I am done with you.”

They both flushed a little. Jenny Woods eyes went wide as she saw the two canes resting on my desk.

“Yes, Woods,” I said, noticing what she looked at, “you will both be caned.”

Eight sound strokes are meted out to each girl by the Headmistress, before a rather nice and original ending to the story.

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Now you can buy a book of the best entries from "The Spanking Writers".

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