tawse
i have become, of late, inordinately fascinated with the tawse…the history, the way one looks, the way they are made. It is something i have never experienced, never even seen. And yet…
In my mind, i’m transported back in time to the days of one room schoolhouses. i have been a rather recalcitrant young lady, standing before the headmaster, my hands extended for punishment, one palm laid flat, facing up, upon the other. My head is down as he outlines my transgression and tells me my punishment will be light, as this is my first offense.
Just three measured strokes.
i lift my eyes. They’re shining with unshed tears, bright with remorse. i admire my headmaster particularly, and the disappointment in his eyes that it is me standing before him, not the usual unruly bunch behind me, hits me hard, far harder than the coming blows. His expression never falters, not even before the mute, humbled appeal on my face. i square my shoulders, determined to bear my punishment with dignity and grace.
The first blow lands and i gasp, fighting the urge to jerk my hands behind my back, to spare them the pain of the two remaining strokes. The tears spill now, sliding unchecked down my cheeks. Bravely, i look up from the reddening stripe on my palm. i meet the eyes of my headmaster…and i let out my breath and nod, imperceptibly. An understanding passes between us, unspoken but meaningful.
The second strike lands, no harder than the first, but the pain white-hot, amplified on the already fiery flesh. my entire body flinches, the stifled cry escaping my lips in an audible hiss. Behind me, all is silent, my classmates humbled by the example being made of me. The third blow lands on the heels of the second, an unexpected mercy within the agony.
The headmaster’s voice penetrates the haze of pain, instructing me to return to my seat, to finish, respectfully and completely, my interrupted lesson. i obey. As i settle into my chair and press my burning palm to my cheek, i wonder, idly, what the tawse would feel like across my knickers. Before resuming my work, i allow my eyes to linger hungrily on the thick piece of split leather. When i look up, he smiles, knowingly, then begins teaching the smaller children their letters.
God, that gives me chills. I have felt the lick of the belt before. I know the way the leather cuts into your skin burning instantly then later leaving a dull ache. I wonder if this is anything like a tawse. Have you personally felt one before or only in your imagination like me?
-Naughtybuttcute
http://sublimesubmission.blogspot.com
When I want to pretend I am the kind of Mistress who has a Wish List, I visit the site below and dream one day someone will send me all of their exquisitely crafted tawses and other historically accurate corporal punishment implements …. *happy sigh* …:
http://www.thelondontanners.com/
I completely relate. I love the belt. I always have. I love looking at the belt when its just laying on the counter, on the floor or if it is one M’s waist. It turns me on just to know it’s in the same room with me and M/ I love it’s smell and the different sizes and shapes it comes in. But nothing is better than the way I feel when I’m bent over being made to hold my position and I hear the belt coming of his waist and then everything about the beating that follows. It leaves me tingling all over my body and deleriously happy for hours afterwords and days later as I relive it in my mind.
My name is Angela and this is about the time when I was in my fifth year at school and had arrived back late to an English class. My teacher was a Mrs. Stewart. Her class was our first after lunch on a Thursday. We were constantly late. One day myself and 3 friends arrived as normal at her class. The rest of class were sitting at their desks and Mrs. Stewart had begun the lesson. The four of us had walked through the classroom door and had made our way to sit down at our desks. Suddenly, Mrs. Stewart called out, “You four can come down here to the front-now!” The four of us, Eileen, Anne, Julie and myself walked out to front of the class. Mrs. Stewart then said, “I have had enough of people coming in late and disrupting my lesson. You think because you are senior pupils, you can get away with anything you want. Well you can’t. You are the top fifth formers and I expect better behavior from you.” I thought about what was going to happen . Mrs. Stewart pulled out her 21 inch, 2 tailed tawse from a drawer in her desk. “Right, I am going to make an example of you and hopefully, there will less repeats of this late coming to my class in future.” The four of us were lined up beside her desk. Eileen was first in the queue. Mrs. Stewart then put her tawse over her shoulder to administer it.” You first, Eileen” Eileen held out her hands the left one over the right. After 3 strokes had been delivered, Mrs. Stewart then said” Other hand, please” and Eileen then put her right hand over her left. Another 3 strokes were administered. Anne and Julie then received their six. I was the smallest person of the four and was last. “Right Angela, now for you.”
I can only remember the shock and embarrassment of receiving the “belt” in front of the class. Certainly it was sore! However, I never felt like crying or anything like that. Also, I was always on time in future, at least for her class. It was most unusual for top fifth formers to be given the belt but this teacher really was a bit envious of us and had been looking for an excuse to bring us down a peg or two. I remember thinking to myself “bitch” at the time.
I received the “belt” on numerous occasions both at primary and secondary school. It did not really bother me. To me, it was just something that happened at school. Many teachers used their tawse for more or less nothing. I cannot recall how many times in total that I was on the receiving end of the “belt.” I received the belt a few times in primary for being late, talking and most often for spelling mistakes. In Scotland, prior to the abolition of the tawse, there was the dreaded spelling test. This typically consisted of the teacher asking for 10 words to written down on a paper. These papers would handed in for correction and then one by one you would go out to the teacher’s desk to collect your corrected work. For every mistake you made you received one stroke of the “belt” upto a maximum of six. Contrary to what your Website and others similar to yours tend to convey, I never once saw or heard of a tawse being used across the bottom. At secondary, in the first 3 years, I received the belt for talking, forgetting books and not having Gym kit. Sometimes, I did not bring the Gym kit on purpose as I did not like the P.E. class. At the start of the P.E. lesson, I would normally go and tell the teacher that I did not have my Gym Kit. Sometimes, I would told to sit outside in the changing room, sometimes, I would be given 2 of the “belt” and occasionally, I would be told to do “press ups.” I was not too keen on the press-ups but 2 of the “belt” more often than not seemed worth it to get out of doing P.E. In some of the Websites, mention is made of girls being put across gym vaults, desks etc, and being punished across the bottom having had their pants being taken down. I can’t say that I ever heard of this being done, certainly not in Scotland.
Usually, only 2 strokes of the belt were received in the early years. The episode I have told you about in fifth year was from memory the only time I received the belt in my final school year. It was rare for the top fifth formers to receive the belt. I am now a teacher and am glad that the use of the tawse has been abolished. I do not think it is my job to act as a “policewoman” and as I have said earlier I am not tall and therefore would find it embarrassing giving the “belt” to some tall person or anyone else for that matter. In addition, there are other ways of dealing with unruly pupils rather giving them the belt. Also, in instances of really wild behavior such as fighting or being in possession of a knife, using foul language, the pupils involved are unlikely to hold out their hands for punishment. Corporal punishment could now really only be administered to reasonably behaved pupils. This would lead to many teachers like myself loosing control of the class where unruly pupils have lost it. As I said, there are methods such as psychology is more effective. For example, when I walk into a class there is immediate silence. This is a respect that has been earned over many years. Good teachers have an aura about them which commands respect and obedience even from the most unruly of students. The same respect would not be earned simply because I had the authority to swing a belt.
As stated, I am not bitter about the abolition of the tawse and do not regret the fact that it was used when I was at school. I probably deserved it most of times. It certainly never did me any harm. The fifth form episode, for example, Mrs. Stewart probably felt she had to do something but to give 6 strokes was a bit much but I had to bear in mind that I was a big girl at that time. As far as I was concerned, there was never any lasting hatred of a teacher ( even Mrs. Stewart who believe it or not was to be colleague when I was given my first teaching post only 6 years later ) that gave me the belt and they certainly did not allow it to linger on their mind. The “belt” was administered and that was it. In some ways, I possibly am glad the tawse was used when I was at school as the punishment was over and done with quickly whereas the use of detentions, suspensions, punishment exercises and expulsions have a more lasting effect especially on your record. However, I am glad that I do not have to use a tawse.
I am Nan — a dominant woman. Not a commercial dominant, it’s my lifestyle. I have and use several Lochgelly Tawses. They are all of different weight, and do not feel like a belt at all. In fact they are closer to the feeling of a cane, yet entirely different. I hope you do feel one some day…. Warmly, Nan
Oh, goodness.
elise