Letters from Blushes Supplement 15

Dear Sir,

In a recent letter one of your readers expressed a desire to see newspaper articles that featured girls in uniform reproduced in your magazine. I agree that it would add spice to the potent mixture you brew. Accordingly, I enclose two items that have amused me. The Observer story was one of several media pieces on the mass eviction of nurses at the time. Phillipa (looking quite charming in her uniform in the photo that accompanies the article) obviously seized the chance for publicity — she even had a BBC television appearance to herself. There’s nothing very sexual or CP-orientated about the article I admit, but I found it subtly arousing. The picture conjured up of young nurses being turned out onto the streets has a certain appeal, and before long I got to thinking about how difficult it would be for the girls to find accommodation of a reputable standard on their meagre salaries.

No doubt many of them will end up in rather squalid flats with dubious landlords. And when they get behind with the rent, as is inevitable, what will the landlord demand as payment? If I were a landlord I think I would charge extra if I found out that my prospective tenants were nurses.

The other article is from The Times Educational Supplement. It is a rather rambling discourse on school uniforms. I’m sure it will give food for thought to your readers. The author says that the purpose of uniform is to identify the wearer as a child, and I think that one of the things we most like about them is the way they identify young women as children when they most want to establish themselves as adults. And, as the writer says, the young are ‘often marked out for exploitation’ today, Blushes being at the forefront of this splendid movement.

Whatever were the TES thinking of when they commissioned the illustration? The article takes an abolitionist stance against uniforms, but what male reader is going to concur with such sentiment in the face of such a prick-pleasing vision?

I will be writing again soon with a batch of cuttings from the educational press relating to corporal punishment in this and other countries. In particular I will chart the progress of the various pieces of legislation proposed by the present government relating to CP in schools.

In the meantime it occurs to me that 1986 will soon be gone, and we haven’t really celebrated the 10th anniversary of one of the most glorious years for CP on girls. In 1976 there were plentiful newspaper articles on the canings suffered by Karen McAdoo, Lynne Simmons, Sylvia Burdett and the teenage temptresses of Linskill among many others. A new, improved tawse was introduced in the North East. And all these developments were gloatingly dissected in the spanking press. There must be many younger readers who would be delighted to see some of this material for the first time — yes, it was ten years ago —and many of us older ones who would like to savour again those heady summer days.

P.R.

Dear Editor,

I read with interest D.E.’s letter in Uniform Girls No. 12 headed Fingers Out on the subject of dealing with girls who indulge in the detestable practice of masturbation. Although I go along with much of what he says particularly regarding the shaving of the pubic area, and regular inspections of the genitals, I think he shies away from the only really effective way of curing this vile habit in not advocating direct physical punishment of the genitals.

Contrary to D.E.’s opinion this area can be made uncomfortable without serious damage being done. I speak from experience as a German friend of mine used to punish his girlfriend in this way for such misdemeanours. When Willie suspected Krista of having misbehaved in this way the punishment (which I was privileged to witness on 3 occasions) was as follows. Krista had to strip off completely revealing a slim body with firm buttocks and beautiful jutting breasts. The first part of the punishment was conventional in that it was applied to her buttocks and thighs. First she had to reach above her head with her hands and stand with her legs wide apart while Willie applied a dozen strokes with a strap to her buttocks followed by twelve to the backs of her thighs and a further twelve to the front of her thighs all laid on with force. This left Krista pleading and whimpering.

Next Willie would take up a riding crop. For this stage Krista would be obliged to lay on her back on the table put her hands under her hips and bring her legs into the vertical position. Twelve strokes were then applied to the buttocks and thighs before Krista was instructed to lower her legs for 6 strokes to the front of her thighs.

Then followed what Willie called the preventative part of the punishment session. The weeping girl was ordered to make the necessary preparations. She left the room and returned a few minutes later holding a tray on which was a bowl of steaming hot water, a razor, shaving soap and brush and a small scrubbing brush. Over one arm would be a bath towel. Without needing to be told Krista would spread this on the table and clamber up, lying on her back and clasping her knees to her chest. Willie proceeded to shave the offending area. When it was completely free of hair, Willie took up the brush and scrubbed vigorously for several minutes leaving her beautiful mound looking red and sore. Krista then had to kneel on the floor with her head well down, back arched, bottom up and legs spread. Willie stood straddling her, in his hand a tight strap which he brought down in between her legs lightly, not with full force. Six strokes were applied unless the girl moved, in which case extra strokes were due.

The final part of Krista’s ordeal was centred on her lovely breasts, an erogenous zone which according to Willie was stimulated during masturbation. Krista had to kneel before him with her hands behind her head and her tits jutting out proudly. The first time I witnessed this, Krista had never had her tits dealt with before and looked absolutely horror-stricken as Willie told her her fate of twelve strokes with a light cane — more if she took her hands from behind her head. Again the strokes were not applied with great force but sufficient to cause discomfort and mark slightly. Following this, Willie would take a nipple between each thumb and forefinger and pinch and pull them for a minute or two.

My business trips to Germany soon ended but it would not surprise me if Willie still finds it necessary to punish his errant girlfriend.

J.B, Kent

Dear Sirs,

I was much amused by two letters in recent issues of your magazine that took up the idea first broached in the famous questionnaire: namely, that we should ‘adopt’ a teenager of our acquaintance and describe how we would manage her upbringing. One letter dwelt lovingly on the possibilities offered unwillingly by one ‘Miranda’ — another had less to say but gave us photos of ‘Jennifer’ as a bonus.

My adoptee is a plump-bottomed eighteen-year-old whom I shall call Katie. I enclose a photo obtained with some effort, so I do hope it is suitable for reproduction — there is no possibility of me getting another. At least it gives some idea of the provocative thrust of her arse, though I have often seen her in tighter skirts and indeed jeans, when she looks a right little cock-teaser.

In fact she is by nature more shy and less sexy than her bottom allows her to be. I know her pretty well, partly because her family are neighbours and partly because for a brief time I was her teacher. Unfortunately, the establishment at which I work did not, needless to say, permit corporal punishment, otherwise she would have got exemplary results in my subject, I assure you! Now, as is so often the case these days, she is taking a college course. You may well deduce from this that her parents have been rather weak in the face of her demands. ‘I insist upon going to college! Who wants to go to work when they don’t have to!’

If Katie had come home whining at me like that her skirt would have been off in seconds. Her blouse would be bundled up her back and the seat of her cotton pants yanked up into the cleft of her big bum. Then I would shove her over the arm of the sofa and spank her until those wobbling cheeks glowed like hot coals.

Perhaps one day circumstances will land her in my, or should I say across my, lap. Given six months with her I reckon I could work wonders. I would make it my task literally to knock some education into her. We would proceed by private tutorials in my attic. Katie would wear pyjamas for lessons — pyjamas in a size far too small for her. Thus plenty of bottom would spill out over the elastic of the trousers, the elastic being so tight as to squash the young flesh and leave red welts whenever they came down — which would be frequently. Furthermore the crotch would tug up in a very uncomfortable fashion.

Her instruction at my hands would consist of intensive work on the three ‘R’s. There would be frequent tests with guaranteed punishment for every mistake. This would usually be bare bottom caning. If you look at her bottom in the picture you will appreciate that it is pretty solid, and a thin and whippy cane would be needed to slice into it adequately. However, from time to time, and especially when her posterior was ribbed with a mass of intersecting weals, I would like to use a wide leather tawse on her. The percussive effect of the broad leather thwacking against all that pneumatic flesh would be quite something!

Inevitably I would want to spend some time away from the work of schooling Katie. I wonder if any of your readers would be able to do ‘relief’ teaching for me, and if so, how they would deal with this happy-go-lucky teenager?

Michael C

Dear Blushes,

Surely the most stimulating letter you have ever published is that from the Principal Mr KRB from Nigeria. How glorious it is to hear that ‘the standards of Dickensia’ are being maintained in West Africa! While I cannot give positive proof of the authenticity of his letter, I can assure readers that from my own researches everything he says rings true. The sort of floggings which over here would be regarded as ‘barbaric’ by the moaning minnies are commonplace over there. We can be proud that the ‘striations and weals’ being produced on female teenage bottoms are a direct legacy from Britain’s colonial past — but nonetheless ashamed that we have not kept up the splendid tradition over here.

In West Africa (basically Nigeria and Ghana), when a member of staff comes into a room and finds that there is too high a level of noise for his liking, he will ask every girl to hold out her hands for a couple of strokes of the cane. Imagine starting your working day by caning a whole classful of uniformed girl students! This sort of forceful authority is, however, accepted, as are the far more severe measures meted out to real wrongdoers.

What a tragedy that KRB’s photograph of his errant girls was too dark for reproduction! Please, please, send us some more pictures soon, Sir. I’d love to see a regular ‘News from Nigeria’ spot in your magazines, with lots of photos of the girls in their uniforms, sports kit, and of course their wealed bottoms whenever possible.

I have always regretted the apparent gap between the fantasies in your magazines and CP as practised in reality. Understandably people in this country are reluctant to admit other than a professional and dispassionate interest in the beating of girls. However, there must have been many over the years who have enjoyed both genuine whackings as part of their day-to-day duties and the complementary pleasures of CP based literature. What fun to imagine KRB working up an urgent erection from the pages of Blushes, flogging his tumescent way through the bottoms of his students, then achieving gratification at last from one or both of his concubines, his mind’s eye still full of the pleasures of squirming bare bums, while the woman he fucks urges him to whip them even harder next time!

KRB mentions the koboko, much feared instrument of chastisement in the dark continent. I once saw a photograph of one in a spanking magazine and was captivated by the thought of what it could do to a girl’s naked buttocks.

Let’s hear more from Africa! And more from those who use magazines etc. to stimulate them to even greater feats of punishing vigour.

L.K.

The Editor can himself confirm the authenticity of K.R.B.’s account, having had sight of some fascinating cuttings from the local press in Lagos discussing the levels of corporal punishment to be desired in schools and colleges, with a bias toward upward revision!

Dear Editor,

Could I suggest pyjamas in the dormitory as a theme for a photo-story? At a time when a tight fit to a girls’ bottom seems to be the pre-requisite of fashion in punishment dress, it would be refreshing to savour the excitements of ill-fitting pyjamas in a context suggestive of a girls’ reformatory. The aesthetic pleasure of punitive pyjama games lies in the contrast of the shapeless cloth to the shapely flesh, and in the savouring of the first hints (and later the full revelation) of the smooth nubile form that seems playfully hidden in folds of cotton. As a girl strides to the cupboard to fetch the cane, and, as she bends to the lower shelf, where the canes and straps are thoughtfully kept, we see for a teasing moment the unblemished profile of the vulnerable flesh. Pyjamas do indeed suggest vulnerability: because they are thin, because nothing is worn under them and because they are so easily lowered. Also, there is the remembrance that in some institutions girls are ordered to change into pyjamas, even during the day-time, before presenting themselves for public beating.

In the more fanciful literature of the subject girls always seem to end up with only one half of the suit: either wearing the pyjama trousers alone — so that the hem of the jacket cannot slip down and ‘interfere’ — or the jacket alone — so that the nakedness of her legs is the more blatant. An oversized jacket can be particularly saucy in the context as it makes the girl appear more vulnerable still and, furthermore, we can only see her plump bottom after she slowly and reluctantly raises the back — before she is bent forward and flogged.

It would be nice to see at least two of them at the ends of their iron bedsteads — waiting for it: perhaps a very big girl and a very small girl. Make them put both of their hands inside the front of their pyjama trousers. It is a rude idea but effective: it traps their hands when the culprits are bent, it tightens the stuff wonderfully and the girl can be made to put her fingers to good use by pulling forward the fabric at the crotch so that the under-bottom is well parted, smooth and tight — and deliciously inviting to the cane.

Perhaps in your photo-story, the smaller girl could be taken first and the suggestion made that her naughty fingers are put to other uses when ‘down there.’ Disgraceful thought? Certainly! And she must be totally stripped thereafter because of it.

Then, finally, there is that tall girl with the proportionately bigger bottom. Unable to risk that finger business again, we make her force herself into the pyjama trousers of the smaller girl. As, inch by inch, she sheathes her thighs and her bum, she leads us to the ultimate paradox: the loose-fit aesthetic of the pyjama trousers giving way to that old enjoyment of the ‘second skin’ — as celebrated in the whipping breeches of Bridewell prisons. Short in the leg, gaping open at the front, the smaller girls’ trousers hold the big girls’ liquid bottom ready for its punishment. I say ‘liquid’ because the thought reminds me of that passage in the novel Tight:

Seeing Eva’s buttocks clad like that, Renata was reminded of the goatskin water-bottles that the peasants bore on their backs on her father’s Bavarian estate. The surface was taut, as if waiting to burst, but, although it looked firm, even hard, one knew — the slightest movement told one — of the softness within; that the liquid would redispose itself if the skin was but lightly touched. Eva was to be heavily touched, and, as the strap was thrashed across her seat, the liquid flesh did indeed redispose itself in a moment of dramatic deformation — before it returned to its feminine grace.

P.B., SW19

Dear Sir,

A subject which has never been covered in your superb magazine is the accommodation in which to carry out CP. It is not always possible to re-arrange the lounge furniture to give the girlfriend a caning and the neighbours do not always understand why cracks and screams ring out at all times of the day and night. I am now in my mid-30’s and have a live-in girlfriend, Sandra, who is very CP-orientated. We recently moved away from the Midlands with my job and we decided that whatever we bought we had to have the best possible facilities for our hobby. One property which we visited on the strength that the estate agent told us it had an old stable ‘in urgent need of repair’ (at last, a cold dank dungeon!) turned out to be a disaster as the owner had fully renovated the stable and made a granny flat of all things. There were many such disappointments but at last we found the ideal place. We bought a flat above a shop in a detached 19th century property set well back in a field. As the shop is unoccupied because of withdrawal of planning permission we have no neighbour problems at all. The flat has two bedrooms right at the back of the property and I have converted these into a ‘discipline suite’. The two bedrooms were converted as follows.

Bedroom 3 (a small boxroom) has become Sandra’s punishment ‘cell’. The walls and ceiling were stripped and painted black. Old lino was taken up and the dirty uneven floorboards left as they were. The window was boarded over and painted black so as to allow no light in at all. An old fashioned sink was then plumbed into one corner (cold water only) and the ceiling light was replaced with a flush fitting brilliant 150W lamp, the switch to which was placed outside the room (it’s a dimmer switch to allow the level of light to be controlled by me exactly). The room had a radiator already and it was only necessary to paint this black and remove the heat control knob so that only I could decide whether the rad should be on or off using a spanner to set it. A hi-fi speaker is attached high up on one wall and, using an amplifier and mike in the lounge, I can give Sandra instructions whenever I like. The speaker can also be used to play music or recorded tapes of Sandra’s previous punishments at anything up to 35 deafening watts. The furniture did not cost a lot! There is only an old solid wood bed (without mattress), a fitted wardrobe containing Sandra’s punishment costumes and a chamber pot. The door has no lock as Sandra would not dare to come out of the room without permission but does have a peep-hole and padding round the door frame to prevent light getting into the room. As I did all the work myself this room cost less than £200.

Bedroom 2 (a large double room) is now the ‘dungeon’. It has been modified in exactly the same way as the first room except that it is bare save for an old saw horse with a padded top — the whipping bench! Instead of a sink there is a shower in one corner and one entire wall is mirrored while the other has on it a rack containing my collection of canes, whips, tawses etc. Two stereo mikes hang from the ceiling so that I can record every detail of Sandra’s punishments (there is also a Polaroid camera). The room has plenty of space in which PT and humiliation can be carried out. Total cost around £250.

Sandra spends at least one weekend a month in the punishment suite. As soon as she gets home from work on Friday evening she must strip nude and I then lead her to her cell. After a stern lecture on her behaviour and a description of what she can expect in the next 48 hours I close the door and leave her in total darkness. I will have decided already how hot the room is to be — rad off in winter, on full in summer. She is not entirely alone in her room. Knowing her fear of ‘wildlife’ I keep a dozen mice (bought from the local pet shop) in the room running free and have also encouraged a thriving colony of spiders and beetles brought in from the garden. It is as uncomfortable as I can make it and I honestly cannot understand the intense thrill Sandra gets from her confinement. In the dark, there is nothing for her to do but curl up naked on the cold hard bed screaming occasionally as one of the mice or insects run over her body.

I usually leave her in the room overnight but wake her early by switching the overhead light on full and telling her to ‘prepare herself’ over the speaker. She must immediately wash herself all over and put on whichever punishment costume is specified on the list attached to the wardrobe door. We have over 20 including very sexy underwear French Maid, Roman Slave… Whichever costume she puts on it must be exactly right — one stocking seam not exactly straight means a mandatory 12 strokes of the birch on top of whatever else is coming to her. She must then stand to attention for anything up to two hours awaiting my entrance — God help her if she isn’t in position when I creep along the passage and throw open the door.

She is then led into the dungeon and punished for anything up to three hours at a time including striptease, cold showers, humiliation, PT and of course a very sound flogging. Her costume is put away for cleaning and she is returned to her cell (now dark again) where she can only lie on the bed on her front rubbing her sore bottom and thighs while I play over to her again and again the recording of her punishment. She cannot tell when she will be summoned again but she usually has up to six separate punishment sessions in the 48 hours (each with a change of costume and often concentrating on different parts of her lovely body). The ceiling light goes on and off at random. She is given a few stale crusts once every 12 hours and night and day mean nothing in the cell.

Sandra has not yet had longer than 48 hours of this treatment but she is begging me to give her a full week during the summer vacation (we are both teachers so have plenty of holidays!). She has a best friend Linda to whom she has confided our secret, knowing that Linda is also fascinated by CP, and it is possible that Linda may join Sandra in the cell one weekend soon.

I hope that this is of interest to your readers.

R.K.D.

Spotted by a sharp-eyed reader at a motorcycle race meeting. His laconic comment: ‘I took the photograph because I like the way the dots became elliptical as the material of her trousers clung tautly around her bum.’