Ever wondered what it’s like to session with a Disciplinarian? More specifically, with me? Maybe you’ve read the testimonials, seen the pictures and been enticed by Twitter feeds and comments. Maybe you’ve created scenarios in your mind, pictured yourself bending over to receive due punishment and pondered what thoughts may pass through your mind in those final moments before the pain comes crashing down on your upturned bottom.
In this – my series of Session Stories – I will describe just a few of the journeys my clients undergo when attending session with me. Unlike client testimonials, these will be written by me and from my perspective. I hope they will offer a real insight into the work I do and open your eyes to the sheer variety of possibilities available.
For longer role play sessions, it can be extremely exciting to split the play into different parts or even cover different roles throughout. On Monday of last week, I had a triple lunch time detention booked in my classroom for three very unruly boys…
Little Tristan was the first boy in the detention book. At only nine years old, he had never experienced a school punishment before. Things were about to change very quickly.
He sat nervously waiting at the school desk, having been summoned to a detention with the Deputy Head, Miss Kelly (played by me). She was a sweet and gentle lady, with boys of her own a similar age to Tristan. Miss Kelly’s sweet nature was not to be mistaken for leniency though. There were numerous reports of Tristan’s general untidiness with his school uniform and P.E kit. It had gone unpunished for some weeks but now was the time to put a stop to this childish trait.
Tristan was lucky that it was Miss Kelly dealing with him today, and not Miss Kendal. He was given the opportunity to rectify the situation by writing lines on the blackboard – “I promise to be tidy”.
Unable to stop his silly whimpering, Tristan found it difficult to focus and quickly his handwriting slipped and spelling errors began to occur. He was only required to write a total of ten lines but barely managed seven before Miss Kelly decided enough was enough. Clearly this form of punishment wasn’t having the desired effect. More drastic measures would need to be taken…
After the age of ten, boys at this school would be subject to traditional punishment methods. Tristan knew of the rumours and dreaded the day he was dragged before Miss Kendal to bare his bottom. What he didn’t realise is that day was today! With his tenth birthday looming, Miss Kelly decided she would show him just what was in store for him if he continued in his untidy ways much longer.
Moments later, he found himself across Miss Kelly’s knee. Despite all his wailing and complaining, she proceeded to smack his bottom like the naughty boy he was.
Back into the corner with a warm bottom to await the arrival of the Headmistress, Miss Kendal. She was in no mood to deal with silly, whimpering boys today. After he had filled two pages of his exercise book with more lines, he was instructed to read them out aloud. A sharp smack after each one ensured the message was driven home.
Tristan was sent on his way and Miss Kendal was ready to deal with the older boys on her detention list…
“Michael”. Her voice boomed into the corridor where he waited.
Into the classroom he slumped, shirt half untucked and eyes already rolling at the prospect of detention. Week after week of late homework submissions, some pieces yet to be submitted. Numerous reports from the teaching staff that Michael didn’t care for their homework tasks.
“Well, you certainly won’t care for this one”.
A line of tatty old encyclopaedias sat collecting dust on a shelf in the classroom. Miss Kendal pulled out the volume entitled ‘English’ and opened at a random chapter.
After around ten minutes of mindless activity, Michael’s hand began to ache and he pleaded to be let off. It wasn’t to be.
The infamous school ‘Naughty Stick’ was placed on the desk next to the text book, to remind him that he was yet to experience his real punishment. Once he had completed the page he was currently on he would be bending over, as well he knew.
The Naughty Stick came crashing down over his shorts twelve times. Miss Kendal noticed it was having the desired effect on Michael; he was yet to show any sign of remorse.
“Not a problem, young man. I have just the thing for boys like you.”
Off she went to the school store cupboard to collect a large plimsol with a very stingy rubber sole. Michael soon found his shorts around his ankles and it wasn’t long before his underpants followed too. Miss Kendal had exposed his bare bottom and reminded him just how fortunate he was that no other members of the teaching staff were here to witness his predicament.
Well timed whacks soon had Michael feeling sorry he had not completed the homework tasks set for him. Miss Kendal was satisfied this young man understood the error of his ways and, after he had scruffily pulled his shorts back up, dismissed him without a moments pause for solace.
There were worse pupils in her school and one of them was on the detention list for today – Ernest, a very bright but incredibly wayward young man in his final year. He and Miss Kendal were well acquainted; the boy simply could not stay out of trouble!
A wry smile crossed her face as she called Ernest into the classroom.
“What have we done this time, Ernest?” she asked with a sigh.
Checking through her detention report cards, a look of sheer disappointment crossed her face. He’d excelled himself this time.
“Bringing alcohol on to school property?”
Silence fell. Ernest’s eyes scoured the floor for excuses. Several moments passed before he began his tirade of reasoning, brought to an abrupt halt by a stern glare and a raised finger from the Head.
He knew this meant trouble.
“But Miss…” he began. She silenced him again. She was in no mood.
“Up to my private study, young man. GO!”
This wasn’t his first trip to Miss Kendal’s study, and it was unlikely to be his last. As he climbed the stairs Ernest breathed deeply and knowingly. Her patience with him was wearing thin. This boy needed corrective discipline, and fast. With no time wasted, she directed him to bare his bottom and assume the position over the bench.
A thin, whippy junior cane was swished and tested behind him. The scolding began. With his bottom exposed to the fresh air, he was vulnerable. He tried to hide his fear and sank his head into the bench in an attempt to drown out her cutting words. He wished she would just cane him and have it over with, but he was well aware Miss Kendal took great pleasure in prolonging the agony. He had no choice but to lie there and accept his fate. After all, as she periodically reminded him, he had no one to blame but himself.
The scolding trailed off and she readied herself. Out of the corner of his eye, Ernest could see her roll up her right sleeve. He braced himself. It was time.
A ritualistic three taps on his left cheek before WHACK, WHACK, WHACK.
No number of strokes, no counting. She really meant business today. How he howled and wailed.
Frustrated by his incessant noise, she paused. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room. Ernest was sent to stand in the corner, underpants barely hanging on as he shuffled over.
“Stand up straight. I’m not done with you.”
She left the room to find something more appropriate for the final part of his punishment. Minutes later she re-entered with a large, holed wooden paddle from the woodwork department. Of course, Ernest was slouching against the wall which infuriated her further.
Awarded twelve hard strokes with the threat of another twelve if he miscounted or complained. With such a walloping, he was unable to stop complaining! After the first set, Miss Kendal could see that Ernest hadn’t quite learned his lesson and decided to award the second set instantly.
This was enough to seal the deal and, after the final stroke was administered, Ernest slumped down with a huge sigh of relief.
A comforting hand on his shoulder and roles were dropped to allow aftercare to begin.
After such an intense and exciting session, it was lovely to sit chatting with Ernest afterwards, exchanging stories and sharing favourite moments from our play.
Let’s hope these three very different but equally naughty boys can stay out of trouble, at least for the time being!
These sessions are tailored to the individuals I am playing with. No session will be repeated like for like and, indeed, cannot be due to the nature of the relationships I have with the persons in question.
Names have been changed to protect identity. Consent has been granted for photographs and blog entries to be published.
If you would like your session to be included in a future Session Stories update, feel free to mention this to me in person or via email.
I welcome your comments and thoughts on these posts.