Bite of the Whip and Cane

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into the living room all the wives were facing me sitting behind the banquet table like a panel of judges. This was absolutely the most humbling experience I have ever had. I couldn’t even hold my head up. Aunt Kay explained that at this get together the women were going to be able to vent all their frustrations about their husbands and get the When the lecture was over Debby said “OK, lets show Sandra what I’ve been talking about.” She told me to get up and stand by the chair. She told me to “get ready” which means STRIP! FAST! I took my clothes off without meeting Sandra’s eyes. Debby walked over to the chair and pulled me over her lap. She shifted me into position and said to Sandra “see this could have solved all your marriage problems.” Debby started slow, lecturing all the time about manners, bad habits and generally being a good husband. The paddle came down harder and faster until I was moaning and tears were in my eyes. Debby would interject her lecture to me by saying things to Sandra like, “See, I told you it works” and, “Don’t forget, you’re the judge of what it takes”. When Debby finally let up she gave me a couple of seconds to catch my breath still over her lap and said to Sandra “see how easy it is?” I was sent to the corner, still naked while Debby and Sandra talked a little about what had happened. I heard Sandra say that it was certainly interesting and gave her something to think about. After Sandra left, Debby rubbed a cooling lotion on my butt (which she never does, after all its supposed to hurt), and gave me a big hug and kiss for being such a good guy, helping her to help her friend. Some choice! I was going to be spanked either way! My choice was to submit to my fiancé, or be humiliated by having to drop my pants and let her watch my mom reduce me to a sniveling, sobbing 10 year old. Maybe Lisa wouldn’t be too hard on me, so I said, “Ok. You win!” That’s two weekends, Buster. Say another word and your pants are coming down right here and now. I ought to wear you out.”

What are whips and are MPs scared of them? - BBC News

There are a couple of versions of the story, but both of them involve Isaac Wilbour, a Quaker from Little Compton. Wilbour is still the only person from Sakonnet to serve as Rhode Island’s governor, from 1806 to 1807, which allows us to date the supposed events. My first source is a travel guide from 1732, published while Doris Ritter was actually in the Spinnhaus from 1730-33. The town of Spandau has a light-hearted entry which contains the sentence: " And finally there is also a Spinnhaus in the town, which is always full of womenfolk who have lived too gallantly", which I take to mean that at least in popular perception the Spinnhaus was a place specifically for immoral women, rather than general criminals. Good boy. I want to hear you cry. I want you to become innocent as a baby and dependent under my discipline and care. Then I want to spank you some more. I’m going to spank my authority into your sweet, round bottom. Now, hold very still, sweetie. Can you show mommy how good you can be?” I have now started to write up a fictionalised version of Doris's story, but it's slow going -- I will start posting it in a separate thread once I have a few chapters down and am reasonably confident that I can complete it. This will closely follow the historical record as per my previous posts here, with plausible (and I hope suitably on-topic for Cruxforums) interpolations as to the details of Doris's public punishment where they were not recorded.Debby and I are getting more comfortable in the DWC lifestyle in our house, but except for a small group of like minded friends with whom we get together, no one else really “knows” about my discipline. About two months ago Debby started talking about a new woman in her office named Sandra. She’s just been through a rough divorce and is apparently having a hard time. Debby and Sandra have been having lunch frequently lately. Last week over dinner Debby was talking about Sandra and said “I’ve told her about us”. I asked her what she meant (not thinking) and she informed me that she told Sandra I get spanked for discipline and any time Debby sees fit. I was a little surprised but didn’t think much of it until the next Saturday when Debby told me that she had invited Sandra over for lunch. He did as she instructed, and put himself in the corner, with his trousers and undershorts in a pool at his feet. In this situation five or ten years ago, he might have been seething with injustice—the bank teller made a mistake, and then he got grounded, and now here he was about to get paddled and then – horribly, to receive a caning, too. But, now, he put aside his ego, and focused on humility. His ranting was childish and the silent treatment was suicidal. What had he been thinking? And now he was going to get what he deserved. He felt foolish, guilty, and ashamed. A few tears came to his eyes and then rolled down his cheeks. You didn’t get grounded because of the bank receipts. You got grounded for being disrespectful and oppositional. And now, Steve, you have been brooding all day today. You have hardly spoken to me. I think it is called the “silent treatment.” Isn’t that so?

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over inhibitions we were going to start the weekend off with a spanking “musical chairs” style. She told us guys to drop our pants. The sight of seven naked butts waiting punishment brought a round of applause from the women. I was bent over the table staring straight ahead unwilling to meet any of the guys eyes when Aunt Kay said “ok ladies ten of your best just like we planned”. That is ridiculous. I am not at fault; the bank teller is. I dare you to go down to the bank and ground her!! Or, better yet, see the manager! Tell them they are incompetent!” And denying my motives . . . Ma’am. Yes, Ma’am, I confess that I did that, too. And I am truly sorry, for all of it.” My heart started pounding as I heard her walking down the hallway. My time was up. The execution of the sentence was at hand and it was going to hurt. She walked into the room and commented on what a nice target I presented, and then proceeded to tie my hands to the bench. “I know you’re going to wiggle tonight so I’m going to make sure you stay put,” she said as she pulled the strap tight around my legs. She was right. I couldn’t get up if I wanted to and now I was completely at her mercy. She didn’t give me any.

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I didn’t do anything wrong and you always treat me like you think I am an idiot! And if I took the blame for this mistake I WOULD be an idiot. But I’m not! And I am tired of being told I am!!” We were the second couple to arrive at the house and started chatting with the other couples and Aunt Kay and her husband. I couldn’t believe how much like our friends at home they were, just nice normal people. After all the couples had arrived and formal introductions were made, Aunt Kay carefully explained the rules of the event and what was expected from the men in particular.

ON HAVING BEEN WHIPPED – Pain As Pleasure

In the meantime, here is an interesting passage about Doris's punishment from a serious historical essay about the Katte process and the prince's desertion written in 1984 by the historian Gerd Heinrich: She felt calm, no longer angry. She stopped patting her palm and ran her fingers through his hair, lovingly. But she was resolute, definitely resolute. She thought to herself, “Sometimes spanking his bottom is very arousing, and gives me pure joy; other times, not so much. I’m sure it’s difficult for him, but my part isn’t easy either. Spanking with purpose requires strength of character, because I am always tempted to be lenient. And, really, he is a pitiful specimen of a recipient. He’s not the least bit brave in the first place; any decent paddling has him blubbering and begging before I’m half-way done. And he can hardly take a caning at all: his bottom is adorable and inviting, but it invariably cuts easily, so he usually gets at most about a half-dozen medium-strength strokes. The bottom line is that even when he is being punished he is a self-centered brat who has no appreciation of my efforts.”After drying off, I dressed in my uniform and walked into the living room where she was waiting to begin my punishment. She was sitting on the couch holding her small paddle and she smiled when she saw the condition I was in. “I don’t think you’re going to find this whipping all that exciting,” she said as I stood before her. “This one won’t be fun, but if you’re still hard when I’m finished, I just might make use of it.” Patting her lap she said, “you know where to go, don’t make me tell you.” I posted the above excerpt from Cornelia Naumann's novel in my first post on Doris Ritter, thinking that other than the whipping scene observed through the window (and translated by me here), the dialogue was fictional. And indeed, we know that Princess Wilhelmine did not witness Doris's whipping. However, it turns out the meeting itself between these three protagonists (Princess Wilhelmine, her governess/confidante Dorothea von Sonsfeld and the King's personal valet/pet bully Eversmann) and most of the words exchanges are historically accurate, but took place several months later, in May 1731.