Reality spanking

Sometimes my imagination wanders into very dark places indeed. I developed a reality TV show concept in my sleep a few weeks ago, for example, and have been toying ever since with whether or not to blog it. The sort of thing I’ve shared with Haron, and a couple of friends, all of whom have grimaced, paused, and then given a guilty smile and a “It shouldn’t be. But that’s hot.”

The inspiration’s fairly clear – a cross between ‘V for Vendetta’ and ‘Sulphuric Acid’ (a remarkable, disturbing, brilliant novel by Belgian author Amelie Nothomb), mixed with the dawn of this year’s Freshers’ weeks around the country.

At the start of my dream, one of said new students is kidnapped, and taken to a dark, windowless room. Unbeknownst to her, her movements are being observed by a myriad of hidden cameras, broadcasting live to the nation. She’s well looked after – other, of course, than having been deprived of her freedom. Food is passed in to her at regular intervals, the staff check on her regularly. Uncannily, the books they also provide are just to her taste – almost as if someone had been observing her closely before snatching her from the street.

It’s the second evening’s broadcast that offers the viewers their first chance to join in. They’d been shown pictures of the punishment chamber. The various implements had been displayed, explained. The early show allowed them to vote: “Choose your implement now. Call or send a text message now!

The method of punishment duly selected (and the option of ‘No punishment’ having been soundly rejected), the later edition that evening allowed the general public to choose the number of strokes. Live on TV, the young woman would thus be stripped, showered, taken to the punishment room, and thrashed according to public demand.

The series would comprise more than just floggings; other tortures would be on offer too for the viewers’ delectation and the girl’s torment. Until, eventually, the public were bored of her: one night, the option to ‘Choose another girl’ would be offered. The incumbent would be abandoned, dazed and confused, at some remote roadside; the producers would set off to capture their next unwitting star.