Evenin' all. Now this scenario is a little darker than most, so before you read on I thought I should make clear that I abhor all real-world abuse of power - yes, even by sexy female police officers. But in imagination? Well, bring it on...
Zero Tolerance
Fanta City, 2019. In the six years since its inception, the metropolis's now largest police department, F3M - popularly known as FemForce - had amassed an impressive record of success. Staffed exclusively by female officers, its origins lay in a 2013 initiative of recruiting and training all-women teams to defuse hostage and domestic violence situations. When not negotiating with criminals, the department had toured schools and colleges educating the city's youth about the perils of crime. 'Let's talk' had been its oft-derided motto, with firearms being rejected in favour of a less lethal combination of baton and extensive body armour for protection.
Meanwhile, massive budget cuts reduced traditional policing to a minimum.
F3M's original ethos was short lived: it turned out that the city's criminals were not open to reason. A more robust approach was called for, and with a track record of innovation FemForce was moved up to spearhead it.
The department's autonomy allowed it to evolve at a remarkable rate, unfettered by bureaucracy. Within three years it had outgrown its 'softly, softly' legacy and developed a fearsome reputation for zero-tolerance - some said outright ruthless - policing.
The standard-issue baton became the 'shock stick' with the addition of a cattle prod-like function, and many officers also began to carry a shortened version of the judicial cane recently introduced into men's prisons.
Over time reports began to emerge of summary corporal punishment being administered, often in front of bystanders, for petty offences like littering. Meanwhile it became routine for those arrested for more serious crimes to be publically stripped - 'to check for weapons' - before being cuffed, caned and escorted naked into the waiting police trucks; and, particularly in cases where female victims had been involved, those same trucks were taking ever longer routes back to the station.
Eventually the city mayor announced an investigation into F3M's methods, declaring them 'wholly unacceptable', but by then it was too late - the citizens, tired of rampant criminality, had already taken the new FemForce to their hearts thanks to its winning combination of efficiency, glamour and legendary exploits.
In 2017, the department's reputation had been cemented in the public consciousness by a TV news report on the apprehension of a suspected serial sex attacker. On hearing the distinctive banshee wail of F3M's sirens, the man had fled the scene and squeezed himself several feet into the end of a sewer pipe where, stuck fast and regularly doused in effluent, he had repeatedly offered a full confession in return for being allowed to give himself up to male officers. No such concession was made, and in fact it emerged later that Captain Helen Petersen had seen fit not to forward the request: her girls had worked hard to chase down their quarry, and she was not about to disappoint them by handing him over to another section.
Following a seven-hour standoff, the suspect had finally relented and let himself be extracted, stripped, hosed down and disciplined for wasting police time. His confession had come anyway, of course, so he could have saved everyone a lot of trouble - or so remarked Sargeant Lucy Wells to the assembled onlookers before she went on to administer the final 20 strokes to the man's already ravaged behind.
Rumour had it that there had followed a brief debate about who was to ride with the nude and chastened prisoner on the way to the police station, but this was unnecessary. Remarkably, once he was secured it turned out there was still enough room for a total of eight policewomen to accompany him in the back of the truck.
Perhaps it was the ensuing commotion that distracted the driver and caused her to make a series of mysterious wrong turns. It took the vehicle a full two hours to arrive at its destination.
Tuesday, 29 November 2011
Saturday, 26 November 2011
The Worm That Turned
Fellow Brits of a certain age will remember that national treasure of a comedy duo, The Two Ronnies. Perhaps some of my overseas friends will be familiar with them too - I'm not sure how well their TV show would have exported, given that much of the humour specifically poked fun at British manners, language and regional accents ("Fork 'andles?").
Anyway, for a while one of the programme's regular features was a daft but fun little mini-serial called The Worm That Turned. This was set well into the future - or as we now call it, next year(!) - in an England ruled entirely by women. Here the men have feminine names and are forced to wear dresses, and order is maintained by an all-female police force uniformed in improbably skimpy black vinyl. No, I'm not making this up.
Although it was played for laughs, you can probably imagine the effect that this show-within-a-show had on a very young, highly impressionable and already seriously kinked Underling - especially when (at about 4:40 in the clip I linked) the late, great Diana Dors actually ordered Ronnie Corbett to report for a state-sponsored spanking. Or at least the hint of one.
Now of course the writers of The Worm That Turned knew that part of its appeal was in catering to a certain kind of male fantasy. And although the fetish wear wouldn't have meant much to me - even then, my dream disciplinarians were everyday aunts, older sisters, teachers and nurses - it was startling to have my odd little obsessions acknowledged by a mainstream comedy show. I'd have been watching with my parents, feigning nonchalance but half expecting a big flashing arrow to appear above my head reading 'WARNING! UNHEALTHY FASCINATION!'
"Undy," my mum would have said - she never used my full name except when I was in trouble - isn't it past your bedtime?" And for once I'd probably have agreed with her, grateful to be alone with my confusing thoughts about Ms Dors, and replaying in my head those few moments of prime-time TV that still resonate to this day.
The bottom line on all of this is that I have a little illustrated fantasy, more than thirty years in gestation, to share with you shortly. It's a bit stronger than would have got past the UK TV censors in 1980, but its zero- tolerance policewomen are without question descended from those running around in The Two Ronnies - not to mention my fevered imagination - during my formative years.
Anyway, for a while one of the programme's regular features was a daft but fun little mini-serial called The Worm That Turned. This was set well into the future - or as we now call it, next year(!) - in an England ruled entirely by women. Here the men have feminine names and are forced to wear dresses, and order is maintained by an all-female police force uniformed in improbably skimpy black vinyl. No, I'm not making this up.
Although it was played for laughs, you can probably imagine the effect that this show-within-a-show had on a very young, highly impressionable and already seriously kinked Underling - especially when (at about 4:40 in the clip I linked) the late, great Diana Dors actually ordered Ronnie Corbett to report for a state-sponsored spanking. Or at least the hint of one.
Now of course the writers of The Worm That Turned knew that part of its appeal was in catering to a certain kind of male fantasy. And although the fetish wear wouldn't have meant much to me - even then, my dream disciplinarians were everyday aunts, older sisters, teachers and nurses - it was startling to have my odd little obsessions acknowledged by a mainstream comedy show. I'd have been watching with my parents, feigning nonchalance but half expecting a big flashing arrow to appear above my head reading 'WARNING! UNHEALTHY FASCINATION!'
"Undy," my mum would have said - she never used my full name except when I was in trouble - isn't it past your bedtime?" And for once I'd probably have agreed with her, grateful to be alone with my confusing thoughts about Ms Dors, and replaying in my head those few moments of prime-time TV that still resonate to this day.
The bottom line on all of this is that I have a little illustrated fantasy, more than thirty years in gestation, to share with you shortly. It's a bit stronger than would have got past the UK TV censors in 1980, but its zero- tolerance policewomen are without question descended from those running around in The Two Ronnies - not to mention my fevered imagination - during my formative years.
Friday, 25 November 2011
Thank You For Asking
Those nice people over at the Spanking Library have just been kind enough to publish an interview with your humble host, as part of their 'Wellred Weekly' newsletter. If you haven't heard of the site - and to be honest, I hadn't myself before RedRump had his own interview in the previous issue - then it's well worth a visit. Registering gives you access to a vast, catalogued resource of spanking stories, poems and articles - currently nearly seventeen thousand, and growing - not to mention a lively forum and chatroom. Some of the stories are even available in narrated form as audio files, which I thought was a lovely touch.
It's also one of the best run spanko sites I've come across, and has a real sense of community: I should think anyone who regularly comes here could also happily while away a few hours over there.
For impatient types, the interview itself is right here, but I do encourage you to check out the whole delightful facility via the main entrance. Just remember to keep the noise down. I've yet to come across a pretty, bespectacled, pencil-skirted, virtual librarian who paddles visitors for talking too loud - but wouldn't that be a nice touch?
It's also one of the best run spanko sites I've come across, and has a real sense of community: I should think anyone who regularly comes here could also happily while away a few hours over there.
For impatient types, the interview itself is right here, but I do encourage you to check out the whole delightful facility via the main entrance. Just remember to keep the noise down. I've yet to come across a pretty, bespectacled, pencil-skirted, virtual librarian who paddles visitors for talking too loud - but wouldn't that be a nice touch?
Thursday, 10 November 2011
Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are! Love Our Lurkers Day 6
So, here we are on LOL Day 6!
As per my last post, today's the day when we say a big hello to our lovely lurkers. That's those of you skulking around the dark corners of the site - and this site has darker corners than most - and eyeing the Post Comment button as though it might jump up and bite you :).
I promise it won't, and nor will I if you choose today to stand up and say, 'My name is Peter/ Annabel/ Fluffy/ EvilMistressOfPain, and I'm a spankoholic! And I like your art/ hate your art/ think you should post more often/ think if you ever post again it'll be too soon.'
Seriously, I do very much appreciate everyone who visits the site, whether vocal or not. It's just that my very favourite thing about this blogging lark is feeling a part of this wonderful international kinky community. And it's hearing from people like you that does that for me, and for every other blogger in the spanko world.
Now, if you're running Flash in your browser you'll notice that I've installed a little lurker bait specially for today. All I ask is that, after you've clicked on that enticing keyhole, you also come back and click on that scary comment button and say hi. Whether you're a regular or this is your first time, it would honestly make my day. :)
Friday, 4 November 2011
Here's Lurking At You, Kid!
Lurking.
Kind of a sinister word, isn't it? It's what robbers and murderers and cave dwelling monsters do. It's what danger does.
It's also the term used for dipping in and out of websites without actually waving your virtual arms in the air and yelling 'Coo-ee! I'm here!' Now, I think there should be a different, less creepy word for this - just plain browsing, for example - but hey, I didn't write the Dictionary of Online Activity.
So 'lurking' it is, and Thursday 10th November (just next week!) is 'Love Our Lurkers' day. This annual event, now in its 6th year and organised by the redoubtable Bonnie, is the spank-blog community's way of celebrating the silent majority of people who waft in and out of our sites while giving the Post Comment button a wide berth - and encouraging them to go ahead, click on it and say a quick hello.
So on Thursday I and lots of other bloggers will be making our special LOL posts, and I hope as many of you as possible - both the regular commenters and the shy types - will stop by and leave a message. We would love to hear from you, and you can be as anonymous as you like - no need for an account to post here.
This will be Underling's Humblings' second LOL year, by the way. Here's last year's post to give you a feel for it.
Finally, apologies to Bad-Penny for using her comment from last year as my post title. It was too good to pass up.
See you on Thursday! :)
Kind of a sinister word, isn't it? It's what robbers and murderers and cave dwelling monsters do. It's what danger does.
It's also the term used for dipping in and out of websites without actually waving your virtual arms in the air and yelling 'Coo-ee! I'm here!' Now, I think there should be a different, less creepy word for this - just plain browsing, for example - but hey, I didn't write the Dictionary of Online Activity.
So 'lurking' it is, and Thursday 10th November (just next week!) is 'Love Our Lurkers' day. This annual event, now in its 6th year and organised by the redoubtable Bonnie, is the spank-blog community's way of celebrating the silent majority of people who waft in and out of our sites while giving the Post Comment button a wide berth - and encouraging them to go ahead, click on it and say a quick hello.
So on Thursday I and lots of other bloggers will be making our special LOL posts, and I hope as many of you as possible - both the regular commenters and the shy types - will stop by and leave a message. We would love to hear from you, and you can be as anonymous as you like - no need for an account to post here.
This will be Underling's Humblings' second LOL year, by the way. Here's last year's post to give you a feel for it.
Finally, apologies to Bad-Penny for using her comment from last year as my post title. It was too good to pass up.
See you on Thursday! :)