STEP INTO MY STUDY
It has been a labour of love decorating my study/punishment room with just the right furnishing and implements. I aim to recreate the den of a retired headmistress or maiden aunt with a rather keen interest in spanking and discipline. Not an obvious room, but one which reveals itself to you the longer you spend in there and the closer you look. Not everything is on show here. My collection of wooden hairbrushes, leather paddles and straps, for example, are hidden away in drawers, so you won’t see those at first, but you may feel them later.
I have my own Eton Flogging Block, inspired by drawings and photos of the original, which I have had customized with straps at the torso and calves for those who need a little restraint. This is perfect when recreating those traditional schoolboy birchings that the original Block was designed for, but equally works for the use of other implements. I particularly enjoy the mixture of bravado and disquiet, followed by the quaking and eventual surrender of those brave enough to mount ‘the Beast’.
I also have a lovely little sloping-top wooden school desk, original marks scratched into its surface with a compass point, perfect to take you back to afternoons under the watchful eye of Miss, writing lines during detention, or playing up in class and about to be caught and sent to the headmistress. This is very handy for bending you over while I lower your pants, command you to hold on tightly, and count every strike.
I love sourcing vintage ‘spanking’ chairs, and have found several recently. Always wooden, of course, and retro in design. A good spanking chair should be sturdy, comfortable, and have a story-telling look about it.
And perhaps my favourite item of furniture: a high-backed, red leather sofa, where I can lay you across my knee, or face-down over its dimpled arm, for your hairbursh spanking or belt strapping. I savour the
squeaking and groaning sounds the leather makes as you wriggle and struggle to escape your deserved punishment.
My study is a quiet, calm space, where you are transported back to a time and a place far away from the bleeps, alerts, demands and constant nagging of technology and modern living. When you enter this room you can forget all of that for a while. Apart from my voice, and the impact of whichever implement I am using, once you are inside this room the only sounds you will be aware of are the ticking of the bronze-faced clock, the creak of the old floorboards and the gentle hum of passing traffic, which can be strangely soothing as you wait, bent over, for the next strike. My study should be a timeless place you fear to enter, but that once you have left, you want to revisit, like the recesses of your imagination where you keep your most secret and precious fantasies of punishment and redemption.