This story has been written by a very long standing visitor of mine. It is not entirely fictional…
He had just received the text he both anticipated and dreaded. He had brought it on himself, being in no doubt as to what he deserved and moreover what needed to be done.He was also genuinely frightened, and with good cause.
His anxiety for his dark and needy purpose (which had pursued him all his long life) was intensified by the realization that in order to make it real, in order to make it work, there will be no prospect, no possibility, of being able to back out.
Their Arrangement (and it was not the first) was centered on achieving a binding commitment between the parties. It required his arrival, to be seen as his own absolute irrevocable consent for what was to happen.
His predominant need and his ultimate goal, was for “circumstances of true disciplinary control”. In which he would be degraded, made obedient and then punished. Where discipline was strict and where authority was old fashioned.
It was clearly understood, that his desires were centered on a past need for parental control, which had been so frequently threatened, feared, and fully deserved but never carried out.
The nature of the call he had just received to attend, was now cold and curt. It was a stark threat and also a clear warning, of both her authority and her intentions. He now had a window of only three days to respond to her chosen dates to attend (or suffer the consequences).
He started to feel her control seeping over him. He understood that discipline for her, was merely her measure of the cruelty which was needed to subjugate him. But then, there was the issue of ‘punishment’.
There was undoubtably a commercial element to their involvement. After all, she was a highly talented and revered professional in her field; he would say, ‘wholly unique’. But for him there was also a very real sense, that she played a very significant role in his life and more particularly, in his mental wellbeing. His respect for her, and for her attitude to life and her ability to provide a balance in his, was a gift he could not repay. He turned to her for his emotional understanding and acceptance of himself, in a way he could to no one else.
She accepted his needs, and allowed them to be dressed and acknowledged, as part of who he was. For this, he felt blessed.
She had long legs and an athletic frame and would not look out of place on track or on a catwalk. She had a calm and natural subdued authority, which she could translate into degrading and unsympathetic pain with brutal ease.
He arrived in his familiar state of dread and was soon sitting in her hallway, waiting and listening for the forbidding sound of her approaching heels.
He was genuinely dreading the inevitable emotional detailed reprimand, which she could target, so calmly and so directly into his guilty soul. He almost welcomed the relief of the overwhelming emotional surge of shameful guilt which would soon consume him, and against which he had no denial. He anticipated her concluding judgment and its inevitable link to the content of her desk drawer; a time when his shame demanded the tears which he knew would fail to come.
“Come In……sit down here.” She gestured to the sofa next to her desk. She swiveled round towards him as she looked at his paperwork, as if to cross reference it. She was calm and composed as ever, and was gathering her thoughts on what was on the agenda.
She expressed an air of supreme authority and total control over their circumstances. It was a role to which she was clearly and naturally suited. She was slim and very attractive, with a rare elegance and bearing. She was totally at ease with what they both knew would be, the deeply degrading and painful task at hand.
“You are here to be caned?” …. she said as she raised her expressive and lovely eyes. Her surprise seemed to be in anticipation of an imminent and formal punishment caning. She very soon looked down, to realize her error. As if it were hidden somewhere in the paperwork which now rested on her lap. Her mild disappointment was clear.
He was acutely aware that her sense of authority over him was founded on a very real and natural sadistic trait, which underscored every aspect of both her task today and her commitment to the harsh practices of her profession. The cries and tears, and the pleading screams, were to her the currency of true domestic discipline: and for Derek, it would be the inescapable consequence of his attendance here today.
Derek, unlike other of her clients who gained satisfaction from each stroke, hated and suffered severely at every stroke! He reveled in her cruel expectation, that he was here to be shamed and degraded. To him it was an essential and integral part of discipline. He reveled in the thought of her absolute judgement, as to what he deserved and to her absolute conviction, of how it was to be slowly measured out.
From his very first visit, he had been aroused by his recognition that she was truly ‘dangerous’. He liked to accept that she was an ever-present risk, as to what he may suffer, and was someone not be taken for granted. He understood that this cruel aspect of her, was the vital element which allowed her to be who she was, and to inflict on him what she, and only she, knew he needed. He liked to sense her affection for ritual: for the detail of her implements and their effects on flesh and, even more importantly to him, on the minds of those held in her ‘care’.
There seemed to him to be no contradiction between her warm and kind personality, and her cruel commands, to those made to ascend the scaffold of her ritualistic correction.
He now sat like a bemused rabbit, in the headlights of inescapable and genuine discipline, at which she was so adept. He sat reduced by his t-shirt and pants, the latter of which he dreaded being told to take off, before being sent to wait to be dealt with. He was acutely aware, that he had voluntarily committed himself to attend, with no chance of reprieve or pardon.
His commitment had always been, for the concept of obedience to her, and to the harsh authority, at which she was so proficient. But now (and only for him) would the hash rigors and cries of true domestic discipline erupt from her room today.
He was taken aback and only managed to stutter the first part of his ‘don’t know response’, although clearly, he did. She patted the papers on her lap.
“Ahh,” she said in recognition of her confusion, “Yes, it would appear that is specifically to be carried out as a serious and formal punishment. Is it relating to a masturbation issue that you have outstanding?” She held her disquieting look directly into his eyes, paused and in an almost conspiratory whisper said, “And I see, that has yet to be dealt with.”
He found a confirmatory nod and smile appearing involuntarily on his face as he struggled to suppress his nervous emotions.
She stared at him for what became an uncomfortable and disquieting moment. She had no trouble in showing him that she was now totally serious.
“I am afraid Derek” her eyebrows raised to confirm her concern, “that while you contended your need to be made to face the reality of disciplinary circumstances, it appears that you do not seem to see your situation here as seriously as I would like. It seems that you have your own agenda as to how we are to perform to enable us to meet your expectations.” She paused to let the effect of her comment to sink in.
“It seems s to me that you do not seem to appreciate what a privilege it is for you to be allowed into my household, where ‘real’ discipline is truly valued and respected and is in active use in its own right”.
“I am disappointed to have to remind you, that this ‘privilege’, is not guaranteed. It is a privilege which can be LOST.”
She clearly did not expect an answer but her look was undoubtably serious, as she let her threat sink in!
He felt his anxiety level peak at the thought that the penalty would be so extreme, and for him would be the ultimate sanction. Removing the right to attend. The rebuke was like a well-aimed kick.
He wanted to hear that it was, ‘something to bear in mind’. That it was something for which there was an ‘antidote’. That there could be an ‘alternative remedy’ to remove this worst of all threats.
There came none.
It hung almost visible before them. A warning. A first and last warning. He had agreed to be here for a purpose, or not at all. He had elected for real disciplinary circumstances, but tried to influence her methods and had fallen foul in the attempt. Now there would be no editing of how that played out for him. Silence hung between them like the threat it was.
To his horror, she stood up.
She smoothed down the front of her tight skirt and used both hands to remove the folds. The effect was to focus his mind on her superbly slim and feminine body as her hands brushed over the nipples of her suspenders visible beneath.
She turned unspoken towards the door, and allowed him to watched the calm slow and elegant sway of her hips and the dark lines of her 1950’s Cuban seams; along with all his associations, which she had been able to bring alive for him.
He felt positively sick as she pointed him through the door.
“Wait in the hall” she said somberly. “You need to think about what I have said”
The door closed behind him and he sat with his thoughts and emotions in overdrive from her cold rebuke and its implications. He listened impatiently for her heels to return and to signal hope, to end this threat of his excommunication.
As he waited, she had, by this time, come to recognize, that his resurgent controlling nature, needed the severe slap of harsh new circumstances which would focus his mind to a new and indisputable arrangement.
She called him in from the hall with the single word ‘COME!’, her manner now distinctly formal.
“You are here Derek, because you have made a commitment, which I intend to see that you honor. The question is Derek, is are you prepared to accept a tightening of our arrangement, in order to remain eligible to attend?”
With no further word, she walked around him towards the door. He knew better than to as much as move his eyes from the front, let alone move his head. She left the room and he heard her steps, and then a quiet conversation, well beyond his hearing. He heard her unspoken return and to his horror, he felt that dark long known sensation of the heavy male footfall, which had shrouded his childhood and beyond. Mr. Brassington entered at her heel.
He felt the clawing associations with his late Father, and the recognizable physical and emotional changes which swept over him whenever she even mentioned Mr. Brassington’s name.
“I have envisaged a situation in which I may be prepared to allow your continued attendance here Derek! My proposal, if it is to be put into force, will be strictly conditional upon you maintaining adherence to my terms and to the spirit of those terms.” Moving up behind him, she leaned close into him and quietly whispered “In spirit, is important Derek because if you fail to believe in my authority or my purpose, your visits are no more! Do I make myself perfectly clear?
You want penalties which will be carried out don’t you Derek. Well you can believe this one will be! Our arrangement is that you will be summoned here, into what will be, undisputed disciplinary circumstances.
Where you may be assured, that you are here to be held in my custody and bound into my charge. Where you are be disciplined! Is that real enough for you Derek? Neither I, nor Mr. Brassington wish to waste our time and effort if you are not taking your circumstances seriously.”
“My own circumstances are that I accept that you here because you deserve to be.” She suddenly slapped him across his face. “You are going to be in no doubt that is absolutely what I believe”.
Her left hand moved to rest almost affectionately on his left shoulder, when the sudden crack of her right hand across his face was followed by the back of her hand, more confirmation that she was deadly serious.
Without acknowledgment of her action, she continued as if nothing had happened, until he felt another series of slaps came again, this time including her slightly contorted expression of annoyance. A moment later she returned to the composed and condescending look of nobility, admonishing a member of staff. She inhaled, raising her head indicating utter contempt for him and his views.
“Clearly,” she said, leaving a long pause and looking for his reaction, “There will also be the need to punish you!
You are either under my authority, or you are not Derek. If you are, you will come here knowing I am serious. And under my authority Derek, you will do as you are told and will only be sent home, when I and my husband, have done what I know needs to be done.
I want you coming here, knowing very well what will happen here. Knowing that we despise the prolonged disobedience of your past, which we accept is the cause for your being here.
She pointed to the centre of the carpet and he moved as instructed.
She paused and started to remove her Jacket. Her slow careful movements showed her casual contempt for his fear of expulsion from her world.
“You are here Derek, to be beaten, to be beaten” she emphacised with relish. “To make you believe in my willingness to show you that this is not a game.
I understand very well Derek what you want and what you truly deserve. Which means that the nature of the discipline I intend to impose, will in no way be ‘optional’.
But what we must also understand above all Derek, is that true discipline does not exist in a vacuum.
Do you understand that. ‘Real discipline’ is taking place well before you arrive here, before you even leave home. Discipline is your ultimate act of surrender to my authority and to my methods. It does not exist just here, in a vacuum” she repeated.
“Discipline is achieved by those willing to use it. And I am capable of using it! It is only available to those willing to see it is enforced!
Discipline is far from just a physical act. It must be unpleasant and it must make you sorry.
Discipline for me, at its most pure, is often merely a cruel and confident reinforcement of my true sadistic authority!”
She turned and walked, towards Mr. Brassington until she was directly in front of him.
“Real discipline to me, Mr. Brassington, is about showing that I am serious! Her tone was hard and entirely targeted at Mr. Brassington himself. The volume increased as if her glare was focused on an issue which was clearly raw between them. His head lowered to avoid her gaze.
She remained motionless.
“Go upstairs Mr. Brassington and fetch my cane and let me show Derek how unreasonable I can be!”
Derek was scared, but dared not budge from his allotted position. She returned to her desk and continued silently reading. He felt awkward and the time ticked by slowly.
Just as Mr. Brassington sheepishly re-entered the room, she turned towards Derek.
“Real discipline is you knowing I have absolute power to be unreasonable.
Real discipline, can only truly exist in strict circumstances, of absolute and unconditional obedience to a source of real and uncompromising authority!”
Discipline itself is a force of control, which is stress tested, only by the acceptance of the pain of punishment and…” she paused ……” And total submission to my authority!” The tone of her voice had hardened and increased in volume and venom.
Mr. Brassington stood meekly holding the cane, listening to her. Both of you are ‘Schrodinger’s cats. You are equally liable to my authority. You are both liable to my displeasure, to my cruelty, but ultimately to my authority. I can degrade you; I can make you plead and beg, and I can break you.
All was quiet as she turned her face to Mr. Brassington
“Mr. Brassington, take down your trousers and remove your pants” he looked at her askance. “Now, here, in front of our guest! Then take my cane into the conservatory please, find a chair and bend over it. I will be there in a moment to cane you severely!”
She looked directly into Derek’s eyes, and without moving her stare from him, she said in a colder, quieter voice, but still clearly addressing Mr. Brassington, “I wish Derek to hear for himself, just what unreasonable authority sounds like”.
As Mr. Brassington was disappearing, humiliated into the conservatory, she continued in the same tone as if nothing had happened.
She rose, walked round in front of him rolling up her sleeves and placing her hands, threateningly on her hips.
“Are you to join him” she asked. There was a friendly smile as she toyed with his anxious moment. “Only if we both agree to adopt my amendments” she answered on his behalf.
“Should you decide to avoid expulsion, Derek, then my responsibilities require that you will ‘not’ be treated as an equal. That by the act of arriving, you are declaring yourself as guilty. In doing so you accept the consequences which I may arbitrarily accept you fully deserve. The discipline you are here in search of, and which is now entirely in my hands, requires that you demonstrate unquestioning obedience. My responsibility will require my callous removal of your dignity and the painful punishment that I believe you need. You will go home from here (hopefully in tears) knowing that my summons is something we both treat seriously.
My responsibilities place no constraint upon me to be reasonable Derek. Our amended arrangement means, you are here be degraded, and abused as you would have been in any disreputable fifties reform school. That is what you want isn’t it Derek? Where your influence, from now on, will be Zero?”
You will have to make me believe you are sorry. You will be like the boy in my birthday card, which we both so appreciated. And if I want to break you…. I will.
And you will no longer be immune from all my implements.” Another long pause, a raised eyebrow, and a small smug smile, “Including being whipped.”
“I think it will be me who wins again Derek”
When the curtain to the conservatory close behind her and he heard the rattle of her cane coming to life on the table, he closed his eyes knowing the futility of Mr. Brassington apologetic tones.
He listened to the sounds of her practice strokes and then, for the first time in his life, the sickening sounds the cane on victim, and he was glad it wasn’t him.
As he drove home, the sound of her voice outlining terms echoed in his head
“Is that what you want Derek ?”