Letters from Blushes Supplement 1

Dear Sirs,

Your issue No. 4 of Blushes is breathtaking and I must congratulate you on it. It makes others seem inferior! Quite the best single issue of a magazine on the subject I have ever seen.

Just one request however and other pictures of Sandra are stunning. She is great because she has such a provocative-looking face and sultry look! Could we have some more pictures of her — preferably this time with some better marks on her bottom?

I think she has got off too lightly so far. She is obviously (comparing pictures) one of the young girls in your last video but I would guess that she has escaped the full rigour of the cane and has not been punished as she should have been. (If she was she probably can’t take it as hard as Sally. Let me know and I will be tempted to buy the video.)

J.D. California

DINESIAN DISCIPLINE

‘And when the days seem drear and long just think awhile on Shirley Strong’ (with apologies to Patience)

Armed with his ‘whippiest cane’, Blushes reader Tom G. lit quite an imaginative bonfire on the ‘lewdly stuck out, broad and solid backside’ of certain Blue Peter personality girl in No. 6. But then, having pleaded for a distinction ‘between fact and fantasy’, he goes on to solicit ‘favourite fantasies about female celebrities’ in a list headed by Shirley Strong, the new Golden Girl of British athletics.

Tom, my lad, you’re sailing perilously close to the wind! You and others can no doubt supply the fantasies in due course. Mark well, meanwhile, the purely factual background.

A thin vestful of big firm bristols bouncing triumphantly over the Olympic hurdles; the thinnest of tight running shorts, stuffed to bursting point with the biggest and firmest arse in female athletics; to say nothing of strapping young thighs, striding nakedly to victory in the Los Angeles sunshine — these delectable visions on your TV screen have diverted your attention from Fact No. 1 which emerged in various pre- and post-race interviews with the media: Shirley, Cheshire born and bred, passed all her secondary schooldays at Northwich Girls Grammar School in that county.

Fact No. 2, as freely owned by the silver medallist herself, she was locally accounted a particularly naughty girl. A naughty girl in Northwich might be a saint by Metropolitan standards, but all things are relative — and some headmistresses still have old-fashioned ideas about naughty girls. Shirley Strong’s headmistress obviously knew how to get right to the bottom of the naughty girl problem, as witness the following excerpts from a front-page article in the Northwich Guardian of 18 November 1976:

‘Headmistress Miss Janet Dines has been cleared of assaulting and beating a 14-year-old Northwich Girls’ Grammar School pupil last summer. A Northwich Magistrates’ Court case came to an abrupt end after… prosecuting barrister Mr Peter Hughes said he would offer no further evidence against Miss Dines and asked for the case to be dismissed. Miss Dines pleaded not guilty to assaulting Lynne Symmonds after she was caught eating crisps during a Maths lesson. Maths teacher Miss Hobbs had caught Lynne with the crisps and sent her to Miss Dines. She was told to go back after lessons, but it was 4.30pm before the Head could see her. Miss Dines told her she would have to cane her, told her to pull her dress up, bend over and lean against the bookcase, and gave her three strokes on her backside. Woman Police Sergeant Valerie Lowry was due to give evidence that she could still see the marks 10 days later. A (doctor’s) letter said Lynne had three red weals across her buttocks, two of them stretching around the hip region 14 inches long, and two marks on her knuckles. Lynne said she got the marks on her knuckles while holding her dress up, as Miss Dines had told her to. She had been wearing a blue summer uniform dress, navy knickers and tights.’

Sister Cyril (of Jennifer Willis’s recollection in No. 6) wasn’t the only school whipstress who knew how to raise fourteen-inch bum-stripes under the seat of a naughty girl’s knickers, Tom! That Shirley’s old Head was a particularly experienced whipstress can be gleaned from the information, conveyed in the same Northwich Guardian article, that

‘when the police interviewed Miss Dines the day afterwards, she produced an ordinary three foot cane, which she said was an ‘official’ cane she had brought from her previous school.’

When a columnist of the Sevenoaks Chronicle (1 December 1979) suggested that the cricket-field prowess of his own old public school headmaster might have assisted his skill with the cane, he elicited the following particularly graphic recollection of Miss Dines’s ‘previous school’ — and ‘ordinary three foot cane’! — from a lady reader who had evidently experienced both in statu pupillari! The Chronicle dubbed it, when headlining her letter, ‘A school where girls got six of the best’ — but six was by no means the limit:

‘In the early sixties I attended North Romford Secondary — I believe it was the first comprehensive to be established in Essex. In this mixed school, ‘female discipline’ was ably superintended by the young deputy-head, Janet Dines, who may even have had an edge over Jimmy Higgs-Walker of Sevenoaks School, the ex-Worcestershire fast bowler. In the fifties our deputy head had turned out regularly for Essex Ladies as an all-rounder, fast bowler and opening bat. I believe she also represented the county at squash! The instrument of our retribution would have done justice to any boys’ public school — three feet of really springy malacca, with correct crook handle. Shortly before my 15th birthday a morning’s truancy compounded by an unsuccessful attempt to justify same by a forged ‘absence note’ produced the promise of a thoroughly-deserved ‘six of the best’. I was rash enough to supplement, with a pair of strategically placed PT shorts, the rather minimal protection normally permitted on such occasions. The ruse was uncovered (in the most literal sense!) and I got two ‘penalty strokes’ for cheating — minus the extra protection, of course. The soprano yelps of one bending girl, in the upper register, made a lusty counterpoint to the smacking of one bendy cane taking the bottom part. Plus much frantic hopping and rubbing while my name was being inscribed in the school’s punishment book (‘truancy, lies and deceit: 8 strokes on the seat’).’

Nor was this lady the only Romford recipient of a ‘JD Eighter’, as will be clear from another correspondent’s recollections published some time later in the East London Advertiser, 3 April 1981:

Some 20 years ago I was a pupil at North Bamford Secondary, School, where really naughty girls were generally dealt with by the deputy head, who was of course a female teacher. This lady habitually used an extremely thin and whippy cane with only light school knickers or tight gym shorts for protection. From painful personal experience I can vouch for the effectiveness of this method — it really smarted, and was humiliating — and yet the marks were gone in a few days. I had the stick twice at school for smoking. The first time, when I was 14, I received four strokes, and I found it just about bearable — indeed somewhat less painful than my mother’s hairbrush. On the second occasion, when was 15, I received ‘eight of the best’ with nothing but an extremely thin pair of summer pants between my seat and the stick. That was the last time I touched a cigarette. Nowadays, when I read the statistics for deaths from lung cancer, I can only feel devoutly thankful for a schoolmistress who was ‘man enough’ to make my bottom smart sufficiently to deter me from this pernicious habit once and for all.’

The reality of a 15-year-old schoolgirl arse fatly straining the seat of ‘an extremely thin pair of summer pants’, and thus rudely proffered for the noisy attentions of ‘three feet of really springy malacca’, may well trigger speculation concerning the occasional fate of Miss D’s most famous Northwich pupil. Did any of those naughty teenagers at Romford, bending over in ‘tight gym shorts’ (as a permitted alternative to ‘light school knickers’), present the athletic young deputy headmistress with quite such flimsily-clad buttocks as Shirley flashed at the TV millions in the recent Olympics? Did the silver medallist herself, with legs right up to her bum in the Northwich study, ever produce ‘the soprano yelps of one bending girl, in the upper register’, as ‘a lusty counterpoint to the smacking of one bendy cane taking the bottom part’? Should a scarlet-faced Shirley, if truth were told, own to ‘much frantic hopping and rubbing while her name was being inscribed in the school’s punishment book’ in Miss Dines’ neat headmistressly hand?

History hasn’t yet recorded these details, so for the nonce they must be left to the fertile imagination of Tom G. and others. But we have already gathered that Shirley’s old headmistress, herself a noted athlete, gave short shrift to the tight gym shorts of any schoolgirl caught smoking. And we do also know — it was widely publicised following the Los Angeles triumph — that Shirley herself has never managed to kick the habit which she first picked up as a naughty schoolgirl, and remains a 20-a-day lass. Unlikely, you may think. that her headmistress never tried to cure her in the wonted manner — ‘three feet of really springy malacca, with correct crook handle’; and, of course, ‘only light school knickers or light gym shorts for protection’.

Where one of the Bamford schoolgirls could ‘only feel devoutly thankful for a schoolmistress who was ‘man enough’ to make my bottom smart sufficiently to deter me from this pernicious habit once and for all’, Shirley Strong seems to have been ‘the one that got away’. Over to Tom G. and his fellow readers for suggestions — remembering that this is a bad case; and such strapping young buttocks vulgarly proclaiming, as they plump out the seat of ‘a blue summer uniform dress’, their healthy capacity to absorb rather more than even the juiciest and most flimsily-knickered ‘eight of the best’. The Cheshire justices are a commonsensical lot, and there’s nothing about school knickers or gym pants in the County regulations. There’s nothing about bare bottoms, either — whatever the culprit’s age and sex! More power to your elbow!

Did Miss Dines really pass up this opportunity…?

Dear Sir,

As a woman in my mid-thirties, I was extremely interested in the lady correspondent’s letter (Gwynned), which you printed in Number 5 of your magazine Blushes. My own particular point of view as regards corporal punishment as an erotic stimulus coincides with hers in several respects, but I must take issue with her in some areas.

First off, I must admit to finding Blushes an exciting magazine. Like Gwynned I see them when my guy brings them over. I gather, too, that there are many more magazines produced monthly which feature girls and women being spanked and caned. I find this extraordinary. It must be a very popular subject. I wonder how many other women get to see them, and what they think of them?

Though to be honest I must confess to finding your magazine a bit disturbing (By that I don’t mean the marks on the girl’s backsides!) What I do mean is that all the girls in your magazine are younger and more attractive than me. My guy tells me not to be stupid and that I am just as pretty, but being a woman I just can’t help it! I wonder if Gwynned shares these feelings? Let’s face it, Blushes is obviously designed by men, for men! Not that I’m ‘knocking’ that.

Another point I’d love to take up with Gwynned is this. Quite honestly I find her descriptions of frequent canings at school highly unlikely. I honestly think if I’d been caned at school (which I wasn’t, sorry!) it would have put me off CP for life! Either that, or I’d have become a lesbian (no chance of that, I’m glad to say!). Seriously though, I do have doubts about the truth of Gwynned’s canings. No woman I know was ever caned at school. I’ve even discreetly asked around my girlfriends, and they were all adamant that it never happened to them. And anyway isn’t there a law against caning girls? Besides, I think it’s really not on to cane a girl who’d reached puberty. I must admit I do fantasise now about being spanked etc while still at school (my guy and I often play ‘games’ where he’s the teacher and I always end up being ‘punished’). That’s OK and I love it, but I’m sure the reality of being really caned at school would have been a terrible shock to my system!

As I told you already, my own experience regarding CP is quite different. I was never punished as a girl by parents or teachers, in fact I was a model pupil at school. It only started a few years ago when I met Steve (not his real name!).

I realised quite early on in our relationship that he had a ‘thing’ about my bottom because he was always slapping and pinching it, which I must confess I quite enjoyed. Then one night after we’d been out drinking he accused me of flirting with one of his friends in the pub. I felt really aggrieved because I was completely innocent of the charge. He got really angry with me (which I found exciting) and told me ‘he’d teach me a lesson which I’d never ever forget’. I hadn’t a clue what he meant, he put me over his lap (no mean feat because I’m quite a big lady, not fat, just nicely plump, Steve insists!) and then he spanked me literally till my behind was blazing red, and I was yelling and crying for all I was worth! Then he undressed me and made love to me. It was the most beautiful, most exciting lovemaking I’d ever had! I realised afterwards that it was the spanking that had made it so extra special.

It’s been like that ever since, always the same formula. I dream about it constantly and it just seems to get better and better! We’re sitting drinking coffee at home at the end of an evening. Then I (deliberately!) provoke him by saying something bitchy etc. He hauls me upstairs to the bedroom, makes me undress down to my knickers, he pulls my knickers down himself (he enjoys that the pig!) then puts me across his knee and wallops my poor bum for anything up to ten minutes. I always end up crying. Sometimes, I’m ashamed to say, I actually ‘come’ while being spanked. (Is that abnormal, I wonder?). Then he drags me to bed and has his wicked way with me. In short, delicious!!

The magazines etc came later. Steve started buying them and showing them to me because I was worried that I was a masochist. Steve says that the magazines prove that I’m quite normal, since a lot of couples must obviously be doing exactly the same as us. I’d like to know what Gwynned thinks about this.

I’ve never been caned by Steve (do they still make them?) but must admit I have fantasised about it, but would be terribly frightened in case he really hurt me.

So there we are. Another convert to CP, although I repeat I was never spanked as a girl. All I can think of is that my parents are Polish, when I gather from what I’ve heard and read that girls there were often physically punished. So perhaps it’s in my blood? All I know is, I like it, even though it makes me break down and cry!

You have my (and Steve’s) full permission to print this letter if you think it throws some light on this strange forbidden subject.

Yours sincerely,

Sonia, N.W.