The Spanking Writers

This is from one of the weekends magazines… a family history that has proved pretty entertaining:

The scandalous family has included Augustus, 3rd Earl of Bristol, who was an avid connoisseur of ‘tribaldism, sapphism and flagellation’ according to one historian, and his sexual conquests included an entire convent of Portuguese nuns, a doge’s wife, duchesses and a whole cheerleading troupe of maids and courtesans whom he called a ‘luscious jouissance’.

Another ancestor, Lord William Hervey, was a bisexual sadist who was so savage and cruel that he succeeded in getting himself removed from the navy at a time when floggings before breakfast rarely upset an officer’s appetite.

…Portuguese nuns???

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A spanking forum posted details a while back of a clipping from “The Sun” on 26 October 1979.

Books were burned in a school playing field as angry pupils demonstrated over chilly classrooms. The children thought headmaster, John Coatman, was being miserly with the central heating while he kept an electric fire burning in his study.

After the protest, two girls were caned, four prefects demoted and the boy who set fire to the books bonfire was sent home. Another 50 pupils at Churchill Secondary Modern, Westerham, Kent, were given detention.

That Mr Coatman practiced corporal punishment seems to be confirmed by a posting on a popular school reminiscences board by an Annie Mellors, who left in 1982:

IM SURE IM RIGHT IN SAYING THAT DETENTION, (FACING THE WALL OUTSIDE MR COATMANS OFFICE) WAS NORMALLY GIVEN TO ME, MY SISTER, DEBBIE CLARKE, AMANDA MOTT AND THE TRIPLETS…

IT WAS HILARIOUS UNTIL WE WERE THREATENED WITH THE CANE OR WORSE “IM CALLING YOUR PARENTS”

‘Worse’?!

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Yesterday I watched the first episode of the good old BBC saga “I, Claudius”. Among other things that were hot in a very Roman way, there was a monologue from Tiberius, about how he used to be strict with his soldiers, and still he was sure he liked him.

He said: “Oh yes, I drilled and flogged them - but I drilled and flogged their officers too.”

Apart from my ears perking up on the word “flog” (it doesn’t take much to get my attention!), I also got this image of two young teachers sharing rumours about the Head of a school they have just started work at.

“Of course, he’s strict with the girls,” one of them would whisper to the other, “but they say he’s even stricter with the staff. They say, the girls respect them all the more for it.”
The other teacher, the old girl of the same school, would surreptitiously touch her bottom, and give her friend a rueful smile.

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A pupil from Rhode Island shows promise and a keen imagination with his homework. In uploading his assignment to a public file-sharing site, he (one presumes inadvertently) provoked some very nice scene ideas. His topic was European History; his theme the treatment of the poor; his fascinating anecdote as follows:

Regulations for the poorhouse in Suffolk County, England in 1588 demonstrate this corporal punishment. The regulations mandate that each “rogue” should be whipped twelve or 6 times, depending on age and health, merely upon entering the house. These floggings and the subsequent punishments e.g. starvation were performed in order to bring the rogues into “reasonable obedience and submission to the master of the poorhouse”.

I’m picturing a stray young girl, fleeing from her troublesome home, being apprehended by the locals and handed in to the poorhouse. She’d be stripped and washed; the master would appear to inspect her, before taking her into his private quarters to flog her before expecting her reasonable ’submission’.

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I’ve been treating myself to some reading time on trains to and from London, and the book I’m enoying right now is “The Golden Fool” by Robin Hobb. It surprised me with a rather sweet scene at the start, where a prince’s bride is getting a talking-to from her uncle, while the main character listens in:

“Tonight you must be all grace and beauty and charm. Show yourself as the little spitfire that you are, and your pretty prince may decide to take a tamer bride. And you wouldn’t want that.” …

“Yes, I would.” Her response was instantaneous.

His reply was more measured. “No. You wouldn’t. Unless you’d like my belt across your backside as well?”

“No.” Her reply was so stiff that I immediately perceived his threat was not an idle one.

“No.” He made the word an agreement. “And I would not relish doing it. But you are my sister’s daughter, and I will not see the line of our mothers disgraced.”

As you can imagine, this passage rather got my attention on the train… Somehow I ended up re-reading it rather a lot.

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What had he said? “I want you to go to your room, so that you have some time to contemplate the magnitude of your misjudgement, before I come up to punish you.” Oh, she was contemplating, all right.

He hadn’t whipped her in three years now. Not since that summer afternoon in Devon, in the caravan, after she and Alice had both been hauled back from the pub. “After you specifically promised us not to go back.” But Alice was at Uni now. Not that she’d wish a share of this on her elder sister.

Her father’s footsteps on the stairs, undeniably. Surely she was too old? Surely he wouldn’t…. But when he entered the room, his hands were already reaching to his buckle.

I love it when ideas pop into my head with such clarity, to be polished and further perverted - even if it does then become a battle to transcribe the phrases before they float away.

I wonder what she’d done?

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It was three hundred years ago today at the Old Bailey, in the second of our new series of extracts from the court archives, that:

Elizabeth Bell was Indicted for a Trespass in endeavouring to break into the Lodging of Charles Millar , with an intent to steal his Goods .

The Evidence Depos’d that the Prisoner came to the Prosecutors Lodging and unlock’d the Door, that she was taken in the Fact, and searching her, divers false Keys, were found upon her, the Jury found her Guilty of the Trespass.

She was ‘fined’.

And ‘whipped’.

If anyone chooses to recreate her punishment today to mark the anniversary, might I suggest that you waive the usual “one for every year, plus one” formula for a birthday whacking?

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I’ve been diving into the origins of my favourite material. Berkeley University kindly sent some students to help with my research:

Raw rattan grows in the rain forest. Its favorite location is in what forestry guys tend to call secondary forest, where the trees are fairly young and a lot of light penetrates to the forest floor…. Unlike bamboo, which grows almost like a tree, rattan is a creeping plant that closely resembles the stem of a rose. It grows from the forest floor, using the trees to climb upward, and is typically harvested by the rattan farmers when it is years old.

Rattan is great for a sustainable development project because the local farmers actually plant rattan in “gardens,” and the rattan needs trees to grow.

Yippee! Spanking implements are environmentally friendly!

These gardens are between 2 and 5 hectares in size (5 to 12 acres) and typically yield around 1.3 metric tons of rattan every couple of years.

Wow. That’s a lot of sore backsides. A LOT.

Because the trees are left standing when rattan is harvested, the raw material can be classified as a non-forest product, and can therefore be exempt from forestry product tariffs and restrictions.

So why are canes so expensive, huh?

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The two minutes between 11.59pm yesterday and 12.01am today were amongst the most painful of my life. For my hand, that is. For yesterday marked Haron’s birthday, and today is our friend Martha’s. And so yours truly duly administered two consecutive birthday spankings, Haron over my knee for the final minute of her celebration, to be replaced by Martha for the first minute of hers.

It really hurt. I do hope you feel sorry for me.

Both girls seem to have laboured under the misapprehension that, it being their birthdays, they can do whatever they like without fear of retribution. It’s proved to be an interesting game of cat-and-mouse, as they’ve tested the limits of what birthday girls can get away with. The solution, of course, is obvious, although it has only just occurred to me: to give a girl an exemption from being spanked on her birthday, by administering any punishment that becomes due to her partner in crime instead. A modern whipping-girl scenario, if you like?

We’ve got a few hours of the day left, but I’m not sure the waiters at the posh restaurant we’re going to for Martha’s birthday dinner would necessarily be impressed were I to start spanking Haron in their hallowed room. Then again…

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You know how it goes: you find a blog, you read it often, but you can never quite summon up the courage, or the energy, or an idea, to post a comment to any of the posts. All the other readers seem like they’ve all known each other for ages, and the banter may seem impenetrable.

This is why Bonnie has invented a day when all the spanking bloggers invite their usually  silent readers to speak up. You don’t need to have anything in particular to say: feel free to introduce yourself, or simply to say hello. We’ll be happy to meet you.

Go on, come on forward!

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