Whippings in the eighteenth century

Sometimes Very regularly I find myself buying books less for their literary merit than for their likely potential to inspire pervy thoughts. They don’t necessarily have to be kinky per se – a mere glimmer of a governess, a schoolroom, a reformatory, a country house is more than enough.

One such recent acquisition was “The Scandal of the Season” by Sophie Gee. It’s a fun read, and well-researched. And it’s set amidst the partying upper classes of early eighteenth century England; a couple of snippets have duly obliged on the kink-inspiring front. Take the following:

Jervas turned back to his paper. “Another slave run away in London”, he announced as her turned to the public notices.

The young lady’s description was printed in full; a reward offered. I drifted in familiar directions as it occurred to me that her punishment once found might make for a rather interesting scene. Maids, too, must have absconded on a regular basis, to be soundly thrashed on their return.

And then there was the chapter set in a masked ball, during which the characters flirted outrageously with one another. The following email exchange with Haron, over the course of about half an hour, shows how much fun we have bouncing ideas around between the two of us …

Abel: Two girls at the ball misbehave, perhaps giggly on wine at their first ball. The master of the house takes them aside, to his library, lectures them and informs them that he is to thrash them with his riding crop. Without, of course, knowing who they are… And then they take off their masks ready for their punishment….

Haron: I like! They don’t need to take off the masks, either. And I love the idea of them meeting him at social events later in the year, and knowing what he’d done, while he has no idea!

Abel: I prefer the idea of him having their masks taken off…. And finding that one was some incredibly important daughter of some grand Duke. The seeing-him-but-him-not-knowing would come when he asked one of them to dance at a future ball, not recognising her because she was in a different outfit and mask…

Abel: And I’m now rather thinking that one of them might be the youthful daughter of one of the gentleman’s former lovers… Or that one of the misbehaving guests might be dressed for the Ball as a boy: the host would have no idea that she was a girl until the mask came off…

5 thoughts on “Whippings in the eighteenth century

  • 3 November, 2007 at 11:06 am

    Crikey! Not the riding crop again! It is Derby Day here and after a day at the track I think I have heard quite enough about the benefits of the riding crop, thank you very much.

  • 3 November, 2007 at 5:47 pm

    Rob- I’m feeling pretty anti-crop too, I hit *myself* in the leg with a crop whilst horse riding this morning. (I have very little hand-eye co-ordination.) Ouch.

  • 4 November, 2007 at 1:35 am

    Poor Evie. It really hurts, doesn’t it!….and perhaps this might be a good time to mention…since I have noticed that you do enjoy teasing Abel from time to time…that I once did that too…about a certain win he had on a horse..and before I knew it he was suggesting to my other half that I get the same treatment as the horse, whose jockey had used the whip vigorously all down the straight!! Well that was sobering, I can tell you! Not to mention the little trick last night. I snuggled into bed first and was drifting off when I felt my husband tuck me in, kiss me on the forehead, place something right beside me and say, “Why don’t you snuggle up to your friend, and I’ll come to bed soon.” Well guess what was the little friend?? :-)

  • 6 November, 2007 at 7:38 pm

    But I *like* the riding crop as an implement…

    Rob – I hear it’s traditional for Aussie men to mark Melbourne Cup day by whipping their other halves with the crop…

  • 6 November, 2007 at 10:46 pm

    Abel: You’ve heard about that tradition too!! We went to the Melbourne Cup yesterday. Lovely day. Took the train, stopped off for a couple of glasses of red on the walk home from the station. That tends to bring out the odd cheeky response. So out came the bloody riding crop, which tends to lead to “Yes Sir” and “No Sir” responses pretty fast. I *don’t* like the riding crop. :-)


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *