Tuesday, November 17, 2015

From the Top Shelf - Painful Pleasures

Since Paris is in our thoughts today after the horrible terrorist attacks of last week, I've found a selection from a novel called Painful Pleasures, first published in France in 1931. It is supposedly a genuine letter written by a French female teacher and sent to a flagellant newspaper column.

Without telling you at the start to what degree I am a flagellant, and to what category I belong, I am going to show you first, if you will permit me, the origin of the taste that I acquired for the whip, nor will I try to explore, before I go on, the motives or the circumstances which have determined this orientation. I shall begin, rather, by telling you that I was raised in a great deal of care by my parents and that never in my family was there any attempt to pervert me, unless I should admit that a predilection for the whip is a perversion - and that to me has never been demonstrated. Nor have I ever had any doubtful acquaintances, either at the elementary schools or in the upper courses, up to the taking of my bachelor's degree. Moreover I had never been whipped at school for the reason that such punishment was forbidden.

...I was never whipped by my mother, for my mother was by no stretch of the imagination a flagellant. My father, besides, never put a hand to me, and I never had amongst my relatives, either aunts or acquaintances who were in the habit of correcting their children thus, nor even any woman friend of my family at whose house I might have had the opportunity of witnessing corrections of this type administered to either boys or girls... I had often heard mothers, governesses or nurses threaten little girls or boys in a public square or park with a spanking, but never had I seen any administered to children in any case.

However a little later in the park I came to hear mothers talk of it to older children. The first time it was a boy about 12 years old and the second time, some days later, it was to a young girl also about 12 years old, when I was about the same age. It made on me a certain impression. It struck in me a certain astonishing sensation, and it is from that day that my interest arose in chastisement.

Mother and I were in the habit of taking a walk every Thursday, when the weather was nice, in a nearby park; often, with father, we would return again on Sundays. Sometimes we had lunch there or we brought it along and ate it on the grass. During vacation we would go to the park almost every day. Papa would eat at his office and mother and I would take along food for ourselves.

I mentioned above that, when I was 12 years old, I heard a girl threatened with a 'good whipping' and I experienced a certain frisson. That arose perhaps from gazing at the personality and physique of the girl who was taller and better developed than I was. I would have guessed her age as sixteen.

Playing with the girl later, I did not dare talk to her of the threat I had heard a few minutes earlier and which left me in a disturbed state. But my curiosity which had brusquely awakened was prodding me towards questioning her on this subject, and I felt sure I could not restrain myself if I were to remain for any time in her company. Taller than myself by a head, and very well proportioned, she seemed quite the young lady beside me and, over the next few days, I pictured her correction in my mind and I was greatly troubled by bizarre and new emotions. In my imagination, I saw the girl denuded for her punishment, this tall plump and fair haired girl with her firm and well turned legs showing under her short skirt, and her thighs half disclosed enabling me to determine for myself how gorgeously her flesh must spread out further up when it was exposed to the maternal hand.

I thought more and more about it, especially, I believe, because of the expression employed by her mother, and each time I found myself in the presence of a big and well developed girl the idea came to me that she, perhaps, might have to submit to corporal correction. The girls hips indicated by their fullness that they were worthy of it, and I suspected that even that fullness did them scant justice, thanks to the adjusted skirts they wore and which were fashion at the time.

This had become an obsession which remained with me for two years. Then, once again in the park - I was about 14 at this time - I found myself separated from mother while following some children of my own age and whose acquaintance I was to make, and with whom I played various games. Romping about, I suddenly found myself alone, but in a thicket ahead of me I perceived three older girls playing at a game much less innocent than mine.

On their knees in the grass, two of them held a third who was lying flat on her stomach. They had lifted her skirt and both of them took turns slapping her over her bloomers. These bloomers fitted tightly around the hips of their friend who, like the others, must have been about 20 years old. All three were smartly dressed and apparently belonged to the comfortable middle class, but that they were young girls from good families was apparent.

During the week, in July, the park is little frequented. They believed themselves quite alone and amused themselves freely, but at my sudden arrival they stopped, surprised for the moment. Seeing me alone, however, and scarcely troubling themselves at the sight of a child, the two who were administering the spanking promptly returned to their sport, without the slightest annoyance, and started all over again to smack their comrade in the most beautiful fashion.

The place was deserted that morning as it usually is at this time of the year. No doubt they must have thought, seeing me bare-headed, and not accompanied my mother, that I must have left her some distance away. They continued - perhaps excited still more by my presence - and one of them had the idea, on seeing me glued to the spot by an ardent curiosity which completely betrayed me, of adding further piquancy to their entertainment. In a trice, without any hesitation, she pulled down her friend's bloomers and showed me, in full view, the naked full buttocks of her friend.

It was the first time in my life I had seen the absolutely naked buttocks of a fully grown young woman. The other two girls who were holding their friend down on the ground seemed to experience the same joy in seeing her thus exposed, and both seemed to invite me to join them. They stared in turn at the gorgeous twin beauties they had uncovered and at myself, who to them, appeared to betray so lively an interest. They seemed to read in my eyes the pleasure I took in contemplating that which they were exhibiting to me, and which they offered so generously to my charmed gaze. The expressions on their faces, which I have never forgotten, indicated that they took pleasure in the emotion my appearance manifested, at once astonished and shocked.

The exposed posterior before me was a beautiful sight and the memory of it I have unforgettably conserved. The very white skin, the perfect form of the hemispheres, have been fixed in my memory forever, and I wish I knew how to draw or paint so that I might reproduce such a sensual and thrilling sight.

The young girl who was being whipped turned herself toward me. She was a lovely brunette with passionate eyes that I likewise can never forget.

The girl who had lowered the bloomers of the girl on the ground, had by now completely exposed the admirable contours by pulling the girl's chemise as high as possible. Then she took, between her soft hands, as much of the beautiful flesh as she could hold, and the expression which animated her testified to her sovereign pleasure. Under the soft but firm grip, the posterior muscles quivered, doubtless for my benefit, so that I might see the joy they were expressing and it was then that the punisher, still kneading the lovely flesh, spoke to me saying:

'You'd like to have this done to you, wouldn't you! You're jealous aren't you! You'd like your little bottom spanked just like this and this and this! Why don't you come here and.....'

I could not listen to any more. I fled from the thicket, ran toward the roadway and, finding my two comrades who had been looking for me, I returned to their game without whispering a word of what I had seen. I pretended I had lost them in my pursuit and they attributed my panting to the exertions of my search for them and suspected nothing else.

On my return to the house I found myself still trembling at the thought of what I had witnessed in the thicket. The beautiful naked bottom was still before my eyes, opened now I realised forever, to a world which until that moment was unknown. A world of ideas, desire, excitement and sensation. At the same time it confirmed for me the knowledge of a secret that had been lying dormant for two long years.
 I wish I knew the rest of her story, but alas, the letter ends here.
From Hermione's Heart


Ella said...

Very nice, Hermione. This was beautifully written and very honest.


Anonymous said...

Quite a bit of flagellant porn was produced by French writers at the turn of the century and later into the 20's and 30's. It became so pervasive that some have said The "English Vice" is misnamed. This may have been by Jean De Villot who wrote such classics as "Woman and her Master" also released as "The Discipline of Odette."

Cat said...

Really wish we knew what happened from their. Thanks for sharing Hermione. ;)

Hugs and blessings...Cat

Roz said...

Thank you for another wonderful story Hermoine, Interesting writing style.


Lindy Thomas said...

Pity we can't find out where this lead. Thanks for sharing Hermione.
Hugs Lindy

ronnie said...

Very nicely written. I agree with you Hermione, shame there wasn't more. Thanks for sharing this with us.


Hermione said...

Ella - Thank you.

Rollin - I agree. It does seem to be misnamed.

Cat - I'd like more too.

Roz - It's something a bit different.

Lindy - It seems more like the start to a novel than a letter.

Ronnie - I'm glad you liked it.