Letters from Blushes Supplement 5

Dear Sir,

Congratulations on producing a very good magazine, I have been a regular reader right from the first issues. The stories and photos are first class, and the models very good indeed. I think what needs to be improved is the letters section, with more letters from wives and girlfriends on the subject of C.P. As most people’s interest in the subject was formed in their childhood and early years, it would be most interesting to myself and no doubt other readers to hear of others childhood and schooldays, and their experiences regarding C.P.

Although I am now in my early forties I can well remember my own girlhood, and I still have vivid memories of the 1950’s when I was growing up. My father died when I was very young, and my mother for reasons of her own just could not cope with bringing up a daughter on her own. So in 1950 at the age of ten I was sent to the local children’s home to be looked after and brought up. Council-run homes in those days were very much different places than they are today. I can remember the shock I got on my very first day as I walked through the heavy wrought-iron gates and up the gravel path to the front door of the ‘Home’, it looked just like a prison. The door was made of solid-looking oak and the home itself a huge rambling Victorian mansion.

The door was opened by the matron, Miss Parker who was the head of the home, there was also a staff of ‘housemothers’, whose job it was to look after the girls in their care both by day and night. There were six housemothers in all, the youngest about twenty and the oldest Miss Berwick a really strict, hard Scottish woman of about forty. She was of the old school and was feared by all of the girls as a right tartar. The girls in the ‘Home’, were aged between ten and sixteen and were from differing homes and family circumstances, but were all lumped together and had to make the best of it, each one of us had different emotional problems, but we were all expected to conform and behave for our own good, and also the good of the home. There were about forty girls in the home at one time and the atmosphere was rather like a small girls boarding school.

On my first day there my clothes were taken from me, and I was given the regulation uniform. This was white blouse, grey skirt, grey cardigan, grey socks, red tie, black lace shoes and navy-blue heavy cotton bloomers with gusset in the legs and waistband and a pocket inside for a handkerchief. These were very old fashioned even for the 1950’s but being a home run by the council, they were not going to waste money on girls in care, so the uniform was designed for practicality not for fashion. They were always called by the staff and the girls, bloomers, never pants or panties or knickers. Bloomers they were and bloomers they were called by all of us.

We did look a drab lot in our regulation grey uniform, even the pretty girls looked dowdy, myself who was never a pretty child looked positively frightful. I was very plump and the uniform made me look like a big grey sack. The sixteen-year-olds were mature girls almost young women, but even they had to wear the same grey uniform, they belonged to the home and therefore had to abide by the rules or else. Discipline in the ‘Home’ was very strict, no answering back, no fighting, no talking in bed, never be saucy or rude to the staff, and always address the matron or one of the housemothers as ‘Miss’.

Punishment for mild infringements would include being sent to bed early at 6 o’clock without any tea, or being made to write lines. ‘I must do as I am told, unless I want to be punished’, three hundred times. For more serious crimes a girl would be taken to the bedroom and the door would be closed. Then after a really good telling off that made your ears burn, the housemother would sit herself down on your bed, drag you down across her knee, lift up the back of your skirt and then smack away until you couldn’t stand any more. In some cases if a girl had been very naughty or if this was her second punishment for the same offence then the housemother would lower the unfortunate girl’s bloomers and she would have to receive her ‘smacked bottom’, on the bare. We all feared this particular punishment the most, especially if given by Miss Berwick who seemed to delight in awarding it for offences that other housemothers let us off. I can still hear her broad Scottish brogue now all these years after, ‘Mary what did I say I would do if I caught you running on the stairs’, ‘smacked bottom hard’. Miss Berwick seemed to say those three words at least fifty times a day to one girl or another, she said it in such a way and with such malice that quite often the girls were quaking in their shoes and crying long before the ‘smacked bottom hard’ had actually taken place. After it had taken place they were most definitely crying, even the sixteen year old big girls. When Miss Berwick smacked, bloomers were always lowered for whatever the punishment and the smacks were laid on with her full force.

One such punishment I will never forget happened when I was about sixteen myself. I was quite a big girl for my age, very well developed. I had been larking about with one of the smaller girls, and pushed her over in fun. Unfortunately for me, the girl fell and banged her head on the side of a table, causing a cut and much bruising. It was at that moment that Miss Berwick entered the room, to find the girl sobbing and her head pouring with blood. As soon as the tearful girl had explained, I knew that I was really for it. Miss Berwick for her part left me in no doubt what was to happen. She saw me as a bully, a crime which warranted dire punishment, but to act as a deterrent to the other girls, as well as to teach me a lesson. I was to be punished in front of the entire staff and girls at supper time that evening.

Supper time duly came around, and I was frogmarched out to the front of the dining room by Miss Berwick. There was a total silence, all eyes were on me as Miss Berwick addressed the assembled gathering in her thick Scottish brogue. ‘This gel is a bully; there is only one cure for such a thing, Mary Francis come here,’ I went and stood beside her and she grabbed me by the arm. Her long spiky fingers dug into my arm and she pulled me close to her. I was very frightened and she could sense this like a cat with a mouse. She was determined to make me pay, her eyes had almost a twinkle in them and her face took on a cruel leer. ‘Mary Francis,’ she said, ‘let this be a lesson you will never forget, I will not tolerate a bully.’ What she said next I will never forget until my dying day.

‘Mary Francis, take down your bloomers, I am going to leather your bottom as an example to the other girls, as to what to expect should there be any bullying in the future.’ There was a gasp from the other girls which was quickly silenced by the staff, and I could see that this was to be my moment, there was no way out now. ‘Mary Francis I am waiting girl, your bloomers, lower them,’ said Miss Berwick, ‘or shall I lower them for you?’ The disgrace I felt at that moment cannot be described, my face was scarlet with shame as my hands reached up under my uniform skirt and into the elasticated waistband of my bloomers, and slowly ever so slowly drew them down to around my knees. One of the staff then went to the cupboard and took out of it the ‘Punishment Book’ and the thick leather strap. The ‘Punishment Book’, was a big black book into which a serious misdemeanour or crime was recorded along with the girl’s name and her subsequent punishment. It was always signed afterwards by the particular housemother who had awarded the punishment. The strap was the most feared instrument in the home. It was always kept for special occasions, and was very rarely used. The strap was of thick, but supple leather about three foot long and half an inch thick, with a small handle at one end, and a tongue-like cut in the other, I had never been given the strap before but other girls who had been ‘leathered’, described it as terrible. Some were unable to sit down afterwards for hours, and the welts that it left on a girl’s bottom lasted for days.

The strap was handed to Miss Berwick who grabbed me by the shoulder and bent my head down until it was nearly touching my knees. My hands clasped my ankles and my bottom stuck shamelessly up into the air. My skirt was then raised and my bottom exposed for everyone to see. One of the other housemothers held me down so that I could not escape or move, and Miss Berwick went and stood behind me holding the strap. Miss Berwick then gave me a warning not to move, raised the strap high into the air and with an almighty WHOOSSSHHH brought it down squarely across the seat of my bottom with a loud THWACK that resounded around the room like a pistol shot. It stung like a thousand wasps and I roared with the pain of its smart. Again the strap was raised, again it fell, again I roared with pain. My bottom felt as though it was on fire but Miss Berwick would show no mercy. A ‘leathering’ she had promised and a ‘leathering’ I would receive. The thing about her was that she always kept her promises, and she never let children off. The strap rose and fell for the sixth time and by now I was bawling my head off. Great big tears were running down my face and my bottom felt raw. At last Miss Berwick stopped.

My bottom had received six strokes of the strap for bullying, and this along with my name was written in the ‘Punishment Book’, which Miss Berwick then signed. My punishment however had not finished there. I was made to stand in the corner with my hands on my head until bedtime, then I was sent to bed early at six o’clock every night for the rest of the week, and that at sixteen years old. How times have changed when you compare my upbringing with today’s spoilt and pampered teenagers.

I will never forget my early years in the children’s home, and although they were hard I don’t think the staff were unnecessarily unkind, it was just that people had different attitudes towards the raising and disciplining of children. Looking back even Miss Berwick genuinely cared for us, it was just that she demanded and expected total and unquestioning obedience, and punished if she did not get it. I certainly don’t hold anything against her — we needed discipline and we got it, and the world of good it did us. When I look around at today’s children and teenagers it is a pity that the Miss Berwicks of this world have to a large extent disappeared. It would be interesting to hear what other readers of your magazine have to say. Congratulations on a great magazine and keep up the good work.

Mary Francis

R.S.V.P.

Thank you very much to everyone who has responded to R.S.V.P. so far. Two particularly interesting submissions this month should whet your appetite!

Firstly, there are two letters John Hotten has received from a girl in her early twenties studying female masochism at a British University, who describes herself as ‘an addict of both the cane and the tawse’. These letters appear to be quite authentic, although a request for an interview has so far gone unanswered. Rest assured we will keep you informed of any further contact we have with this remarkable lady.

Please write and let us know if you would like the author to continue a series along these lines. John Hotten recently asked her if she liked to administer the cane as well as receive it and she told him: ‘Well, my boyfriend likes the cane, so I have caned him a few times but usually prefer to have it myself!!’ He also asked her to describe her feelings while she was being caned and this is what she wrote:

The first caning I had at school was a combination of pain and humiliation. As I stood before Miss Hart for my scolding, I had expected no more than a hand caning, which, although quite painful, was nevertheless bearable. The first instant that I realised that I was to have to bend over the desk and raise my skirt was a great shock: THE THOUGHT OF SHOWING MY SCHOOL KNICKERS AND WONDERING IF MY UNDIES WERE TIDY: The first impact of the cane across the seat of my knickers, although painful, was mainly terribly embarrassing, and then, to my amazement, being told actually to take my knickers down and expose my BARE bottom was almost too much! But I had to obey and just lay there across the desk, my bottom completely naked and tense. I could feel the cool air on my buttocks which were normally warm in my panties. I knew that Miss Hart would be looking at them and I could hear the cane swishing. All these things ran through my mind until my thoughts were suddenly shattered with the first arresting terrible sting of her vicious cane, as it bit hard into my soft, bare bottom-cheeks. The pain was so intense that I felt sure that I would not sit down for weeks! I didn’t know how long she would beat me but I just had to hang on to the desk and brace myself for the ordeal. I had to avoid this in future, I thought!’

Dear John,

Thank you so much for your recent letter in response to mine requesting ‘total domination from a master’. I would be very interested indeed in corresponding with you, and later perhaps even meeting.

At the moment I am heavily tied to my work, and so travelling to London could be difficult, but after June 30, I will be free full-time. Perhaps we can arrange a meeting sometime then. But certainly, until then I will be most happy to write, and/or accommodate you up here. I was most interested to read of your involvement with Blushes and I would be delighted to be interviewed by you. Actually, if you want any type of help with any aspect of research for your writing, then do ask. I am at the moment engaged in a research project looking at the psychological aspects of female masochism, with a particular interest in sexual violence and torture. This is my way of combining my own addiction to slavery, with my need to do some work. I suppose at the end of my project I’ll still be a slave, but at least I’ll know why…

I would also be interested in modelling for Blushes either officially, or as a non-model. I have done some modelling before at home in California, for a mag called Bonded Bitches. I have several copies of this, so you would be welcome to one if you wish. There is also a video, taken by a former master, showing me in action with several of his friends, which I could bring down when I meet you.

T., York

John Hotten asked her for more details about her personal tastes and experiences, and received the following amazing letter:

Dear John,

Thank you for your interesting letter, ‘filling in’ some of the details of our earlier contact. I would be very interested in meeting you on both a personal and professional basis, because I am a compulsive submissive masochist, and a researcher in the same area. Let me expand on each of these in turn.

On a personal level, I am a total sexual submissive, and I am very keen to engage in spanking games. I must confess I have never before taken part in ‘school-style’ discipline, but I am well aware of its attraction, and would love to indulge myself. I am, and have been for a number of years, an addict of both the cane and the tawse, and I would find it very exciting to dress to your exact orders, and take the formal punishment. I do not know how far you like to go in this, but for myself, I like it to be ‘laid on’ very hard. While fantasy or social spanking is very exciting and most satisfying, I must say that I prefer real punishment. Therefore, I would ask that you do not simply play with me, I would like a really good thrashing. Of course, when we were with other people, then I would go along with the consensus, for reasons of compliance, but when we are alone I would prefer it if you felt able to hurt me properly. You see, I am able to ‘come’ as a sole result of formally imposed pain. I do not, at this moment, have a school uniform, but we can cross that hurdle later. As for my unavailability before June 30, I do not have any exams, but I do have my thesis to finish. Thus, I cannot travel before then, but can accommodate you virtually anytime. Tell me what you think about this. After June 30, I will be available full time so we can spend more time together, and explore the various projects we have talked about, which leads me to…

The professional connection. I am still interested in modelling for Blushes, either as model or as just ordinary ‘readers’ pic. I could send you/the editor some photos if this will be of use. If you wanted to interview me, I would be most willing to answer anything, but could you outline your areas of interest? Incidentally, in the course of my research, I have collected a number of interviews with female masochists which I have on tape, and which you would be perfectly welcome to listen to/borrow, if you are at all interested. I could not really (ethically) let these be published directly, but if you wanted you could ‘launder’ them. They run to around 18 hours in all, and some are not simply interesting and informative, but highly stimulating.

Incidentally, with your contacts, you must have quite a few photos in your collection. If it were at all possible, would you let me see some. These could just be simple shots of men and women ‘indulging’ or posing. I would, of course, return them promptly, but I would very much appreciate a perusal…

I’ll go now but please write soon, and don’t forget the interview details or (if at all possible) the pictures.

T., York

Turned on by Spanking…

You may have read a Reader’s letter by ‘P., London’ in Blushes recently, relating how she was caned by her history Mistress, Miss Hart. When John Hotten wrote to the author to tell her Blushes was going to publish her letter, an interesting correspondence ensued. With the lady’s permission, we are publishing a few extracts from her letters by way of background to her continued adventures at school. Blushes must point out that the two-part story A Splitting Moment and Bad Marks for History which the lady wrote for us at our request is pure fantasy, whereas the Reader’s letter we published was an only slightly embroidered account of a real-life event. We hope you will enjoy this lady’s fiction as much as we did. Apart from its intrinsic merits, what is interesting is the transparent enjoyment the writer takes in the subject matter. For instance, when John Hotten sent her a copy of Blushes, look at what she said:

Many thanks for the book. It’s a really good book. My boyfriend had a good eyeful of it and he thought that some of the photos and ideas were really good. He thought the girls had lovely bums, too!! It was very generous of you to give me the book and I would love to have a try at writing a spanking story. We’ll see if the editor likes it OK. If not, not to worry.

At this point, John Hotten asked the writer if she would supply a photograph for publication with her Reader’s letter. She wrote back with the photo printed below and the following comments:

I know it’s a bit late to send a photo to go with the letter and on reflection it didn’t seem quite authentic to send a spanking photo, as obviously no such photo was taken of me during the experience I related, so I thought maybe a photo of me at that age. But I’m not sure if you would print that. Anyway, I’m sending one of both, so if there is still time, you can use this. Meanwhile, I will get pen to paper or paper to keyboard and see what I come up with. Please keep in touch. We both like the Blushes mag very much.

P.S. The photo is of me at about the time I was caned!

An inscription on the back of this photo reads: ‘I was caned the term before this pic!’

We checked with her that it would be acceptable to use this photograph. She replied as follows:

You were asking about the photo I sent you when I was on holiday shortly after being caned. I have no objection to you using this and even though it shows my face, it doesn’t look a lot like I do now! The only reason I didn’t think you’d use it is because of the quality — the reason I didn’t send an up-to-date spanking one is that it seemed to me to be not in keeping with my genuine account of my teenage experience.

There were obviously no photographs of the event and it seemed more authentic to me to enclose a photo of me at the actual age of my experience. To put a photo in of me actually being caned would make the story out to be made up, don’t you think?

Hotten next received the two stories which follow, together with a covering note from the author:

As promised, I’ve enclosed a little literature of mine that you may like to read through for your comments. Here are two episodes, a sort of serial follow-up if you like. This is a completely new story that I’ve just made up this week and if you think it may have possibilities, I could continue a series on these lines. I have tried to incorporate original ideas as much as possible without becoming too unbelievable. I rather like the theme myself, but then it’s MY imagination! So it would appeal to me. I hope it does to others as well!

A Splitting Moment!, the first part of the author’s fiction now follows.

A SPLITTING MOMENT!

Boarding school was a bit of a bore, really more so than ordinary day school as you couldn’t get away from it except for welcome holidays, so any little unusual incident that broke the normal routine was more than acceptable.

I remember one such incident that not only changed the humdrum programme for that day but also made quite a permanent impact on school life at Beechcroft Boarding School for Girls. It happened during History class with Miss Hart, one of the four main Mistresses at the school. There were about sixty girls at the school and these were divided into three sections, girls from 12 to 14, girls from 14 to 16 and girls from 16 to 18, at the time I happened to be in the middle section as I was almost 16 and our class of about twenty girls were taking our last lesson of the day and were about halfway through our boring old history lesson! Miss Hart was a very strict Mistress with a very haughty domineering manner, she was certainly the main one for dishing out extra evening work and attempted to keep the girls in check, she was one of the ‘old school Ma’am’ types and was a strong advocate for dishing out punishment if needed, indeed she made no bones about it and displayed on the wall a row of crooked canes, a paddle, a strap and a slipper. At first when I went to the school, I had thought that the display was a sort of deterrent but I was soon to learn otherwise with a few sharp raps across my hand for misbehaviour! I learned later when I got into the third year that the cane was used on the seat of our school knickers so it was as well to wear some good strong knickers to Miss Hart’s class… Just in case!!

However, the lesson I was referring to being the last lesson of the day, there was probably a bit of fidgeting and even chatting. Miss Hart had issued several warnings and was walking from the back of the class when she suddenly seized Margaret Parsons by the scruff of her neck!… ‘Right Miss Parsons,’ she said in a haughty voice. ‘Get out in front of the class’… poor old Margarine (that’s what we called her), she was really quite a well-behaved girl and very shy, we teased her a lot because she was quite plump, not that fat but she had a round face that went bright red if she was told off and the clothes she wore were usually not big enough for her so this made her look rather untidy and plump… Margarine was pulled out in front of the class with a look of fear on her crimson face… ‘I’ve had quite enough of you girls for one day,’ said the Mistress. ‘I think it’s time to set an example!’ The wretched girl stood shaking in her shoes and Miss Hart went over to the wall and unhooked one of the canes and showed it to the girl, a shiver ran through the girl’s body… ‘Six of the best I think is in order!’ the old sow chanted. ‘Face your back to the class, bend over and touch your toes and raise your skirt!!’… Well poor old Marg stood with her back to us but as for touching her toes she wasn’t going to make it! And it didn’t seem to be that necessary to raise her skirt as having quite a big bottom and a skirt two sizes too small we all quickly saw the seat of her pants! Miss Hart’s voice was still gabbling on (she never stopped talking) she thrust the unfortunate girl’s skirt over her back and viewed the expanse of Margarine’s bottom… She had really thin knickers on (silly girl), in fact her big bum was almost visible, even though they were bottle green they were so tightly stretched that the pink of her botty cheeks blended with the green, also there were two holes in her knickers which although maybe small were now stretched to almost ½ inch, one right in the centre and one on her right cheek through which peeped a little bulge of her bare bottom!… Miss Hart swished the cane about as if she was trying to catch a fly! She usually did this in order to frighten you.

‘You will count each stroke Miss’ she ordered ‘Yes Miss,’ whimpered poor Margaret. All eyes were on her knickers as Miss Hart raised the cane and brought it down with a resounding THWACK! on to her bottom, the cane embedded into her bum cheeks which shuddered violently with the impact… OW AUGH OO EEE… ‘One’ she whispered, the next stroke landed was whacked from underneath and hit both bum-cheeks lifting them upwards. Margaret shrieked and jumped off her feet, the force of the cane nearly toppling her over. ‘Oh oh please Madam OOWWW’ ‘Well girl?’ ‘Oh er two,’ she said

SWISSH THWACK SWISSHHH CRAACKK ’OOOWWWW OW OHHH Madam THREE… FOUR,’ she shouted with a voice choking to keep herself from bursting into tears… Poor Margarine’s bum was going through it for sure especially as she wasn’t used to it like some of us!!

Miss Hart swished the cane about and told the girl to tuck her head down more between her legs, as she did so I could actually see some cane marks through her knickers… Miss Hart stood back to get a really good swing with the cane and swished it hard down across the centre of the screaming girls big bum ‘AAAGH OOOWWW!! OW,’ she cried… Then suddenly we could all see what had happened… The pressure of her big bum-cheeks in those small tight flimsy knickers and the thrashing of the last cane stroke had split the hole in the centre of her pants and in her bending position there was going to be no stopping it!!!

Some of the girls gasped and rose in their seats to get a better view. Miss Hart was in front of the girl telling her off as usual and didn’t realise that her little knickers had become so threadbare, then without any warning the whole seat of her knickers split from side to side!! It made a ripping sound and the Mistress came around the back of the girl to see what had happened. We were all looking at Margaret’s BARE BUM!! Margaret quickly covered her sore bare bottom with both hands and stood upright ‘Stupid girl!’ shouted the Mistress… ‘why on earth don’t you get some decent panties to wear — the right size!!’ … ‘You have only had five strokes child’ she said ‘You have one more to come… Hold on to your ankles again please!!!’ … We just couldn’t believe our ears and the girls were all glancing at one another open mouthed and looking at Margaret and Miss Hart in disbelief. Margaret hesitated but the Mistress bellowed at her ‘Do you want seven or eight girl? BEND BEND!!’

Poor old Margarine, she just HAD to bend over again. The Mistress threw the skirt across her back again and we were all able to see Margaret’s big bare bum exposed through the split which was now completely wide open. Both of her buttocks were completely visible and had deep red stripes across them from the vicious caning she had received. Miss Hart paced up and down again swishing the cane as if to embarrass the girl even more and we watched in horror as she stood back to take a tremendous swingback with the whippy cane and bring it hard down. SPLANK!!! It embedded deep into her naked buttocks completely distorting the shape of her bum and making the cheeks violently wobble AAGHHH OOOWWW! The poor girl screamed with pain and burst into a flood of tears. A nasty red weal appeared where the cane had struck. Sobbing and crying Margaret rubbed her flaming botty to soothe the pain.

‘Report to the uniform supply room,’ said the Mistress. ‘And see to it that you get the right size this time… big bottoms need big knickers,’ she said with a severe frown.

----//----

Before passing on to the second part, Bad Marks for History, let us hear from the author once again. John Hotten asked her some personal questions and she replied:

Age? Well, let’s say I’m the other side of 35! So rather an old schoolgirl eh? I don’t really have a firm opinion of caning in school but I think in certain cases it could do a lot of good — just the one caning I had improved my behaviour (I mean the bare bottom one — I did get it on the hand other times). How did I become interested in spanking? Well, it’s not that easy to say, but mainly from reading and looking at books I think. I’ve always liked bums (girls and boys) and of course spanking mags have always got a lot of bare bottoms in them. My boyfriend and I both found some of the settings and photos in Blushes 8 very stimulating, to say the least! I also met a couple of people interested in spanking and then my boyfriend spanked and caned my bare bottom and took photos too. It was great to actually see my bum caned and I also got a thrill out of showing off to the camera!! Maybe I’m a little show-off!! Thanks for your compliment about my bum in your letter!!

The second part of her fiction, Bad Marks for History will be published in a subsequent issue of this magazine.