A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixon R Humphries - The Woody Back ...

A Life in the DayofNixdown NixonR HumphriesWoodettes Publications

Published 2010byWoodettes PublicationsHouston, Texas, USA© Woodettes Publications 2010R Humphries has asserted his right to be identified asthe author of this work with all rights reservedincluding the right of reproduction in whole or in partin any form.The Library of Congress has catalogued this edition asfollows Humphries, R [date]A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixon : a novel byR Humphries[Application Pending]1st Ed.ISBN – [Application Pending]www.woodettes.wordpress.com

DedicatedtoMy Beloved Jojo

ContentsIt Started With a Spanking ................... 1Degenerate .......................................... 5Thrashed by a Goddess ......................... 9Recreational Spanking ....................... 14Mentoring .......................................... 18Planet Nix.......................................... 23Yvonne and Janet ............................... 27Victoria and Debs ............................... 32Red-Card for Ginger ........................... 36A Case of the Residuals ...................... 41In Charge of the Hen-House ............... 45Rude, Grumpy and Foul-Mouthed ........ 49Fresh from a Whopping ...................... 53The Troublesome Twins ...................... 58A Spanking for Rosie .......................... 62She Whops Very Hard ......................... 67Spanky, Christy and Cedric ................. 71Divinely Bonkers ................................ 76The Best Grubby in the Universe ......... 80I Suppose I’m on for a Bender? .......... 85An Outbreak of Extreme Minxing ........ 89With One Bound a Gal was Free .......... 94Mr Humphries .................................... 99Let the Entertainment Begin ............. 103Red Arse, Black Heart....................... 107Sisterly Love .................................... 112A Dusting for Derby.......................... 116

1It Started With a SpankingI wake up in a make-shift straw bed in the tackroom of the stable complex. It is only five-thirty in themorning but I am an early riser. My step-mother,Petron, and I used to exercise the horses at dawn,along the beaches outside our home when I was stillin the idyllic throes of childhood.Penny Ann is still sleeping and breathinggently. She has a slightly blissful smile on her face.I pad barefoot across to the sink and brush myteeth and try to straighten my hair a little. Then Icollect my clobber and quickly dress, doing my bestnot to disturb Pen.Once I am fully dressed I lean down and kissher gently. Her eyes flicker open and she smilessleepily.“I have to run,” I tell her. “I’m on duty atseven and I need to get some coffee and take ashower. Thanks for last night.”She gives me a small sleep-giggle. I kiss heragain and then cut along.

A Life in the Day of Nixdown NixonThere is nobody about as I cut across thequadrangle and go into the main house. I head overto the cafeteria in search of java.I find Debs Morton standing by the machinewaiting for it to heat up. She is dressed in trainingsweats and is on her way for her morning run withJane Lummell, who is her tennis coach. We oftenmeet at this time of the morning, me on the wayhome from my trysts with Pen and Debs off on herway to start her busy day.She grins at me, “So how was it?” She askscheerily.“Absolutely divine,” I tell her and I’m not lying.My bum is still tingling deliciously.We started last evening’s activities with mestretched out across Penny Ann’s lap for a straightforward,good old fashioned spanking.When I arrived at the stable Penny Ann wasalready waiting. She had lit a number of unscentedcandles and I could see an ice bucket with a bottle ofVeuve Clicquot that we would enjoy in the fullness oftime.Penny Ann is a statuesque gal, standing fivefeetnine inches in her stockinged feet, which issomewhat taller than little old me.She was dressed in a black five button ridingjacket over a white linen shirt that I bought her theother day and a black silk tie. Her strong legs wereshoe-horned into form-fitting charcoal grey jodhpursthat were tucked into knee-high black riding boots.She was holding a braided riding crop between hergloved hands.

3Pen wears her mass of blonde curls mussed upon the top of her head. She has strong featuresdominated by large blue eyes and radiates health.She is my English rose.We did not waste time with niceties.“Remove your blazer and place your hands onyour head,” she instructed me as soon as I walkedthrough the door.Penny Ann is a quiet and gentle gal by naturebut she served a year in the role of Red-shirt at theunit and was responsible for disciplining hundreds ofinmates. She taught herself the art of exudingstrength and patrician authority.I did as I was told.Penny stood up and set the crop to one side.She took off her black leather gloves and slowlyunfastened the five buttons down the front of herjacket.The stable was quite dark, with just thecandles flickering and a little light from the moon andthe stars. It was serenely silent with the only soundthe occasional snort from the horses in their stalls.Pen shrugged off her jacket and hung it upbeside my red and black striped blazer.The white cotton and silk material of herblouse clung to her upper torso like a second skin.She was wearing a thick leather belt around her waistthat accentuated her hour-glass figure. I thought shelooked magnificent.

A Life in the Day of Nixdown NixonShe rolled back the sleeves of her shirt,unfastened the top button and loosened her tie. Sheretrieved her gloves and pulled them on.She walked over and stood before me. As Ihave said she is significantly taller than me and I hadto tilt my head upwards to meet her coolly steel gaze.She told me to lower my arms and then tookme firmly by the wrist. “Come with me, young lady,”she told me and started to stride purposefully acrossthe stables towards a conveniently positioned bale ofhay.I had to scurry a little to keep up in order thatI was not being dragged, which would have been atad undignified.We reached the bale of hay and she sat down.In one fluid movement she gave my wrist a tug andpulled me downwards across her lap.She was all business, flipping back my shortskirt and rolling down my bumbags.“Stretch out,” she commanded. “I intend togive you a damn good spanking.”I shuffled into position and felt myself beingpulled tightly into the crease of her lap. I feel theleather of her glove tapping down on my upturnednaked flesh and then she raised her arm in the airand brought it down with an explosive smack.It was not long before I felt the surface of mybum beginning to warm up delightfully.

2DegeneratePenny Ann and I have been an item for nearlyeighteen months now. I know that on the face of itwe seem an unlikely couple. Penny Ann is ratherrefined and reserved, which is the complete antithesisof yours truly.I am well aware that my reputation precedesme and that Pen’s closest chums counseled her togive me a wide berth. I can’t say that I really blamethem as I suppose I have always reveled in myreputation as a degenerate.Actually I feel that degenerate might be a littleharsh; secretly I prefer to consider myself to haveliberal tendencies. However, I have kind of embracedthe notion of degeneracy since the Grand Dame atone of the many schools that I attended felt the needto publicly denounce me as such in a crowdedassembly hall.We have known each other for yonks, datingback to the glorious days when we rode competitivelyagainst each other and then on the same national

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonteam that swept the continent winning trophies androsettes wherever we went. ‘We’ being Penny Ann,Jojo, Claire Brooks and I.Penelope Ann Evans was the eldest amongstus and the Captain of the team. She was always quietand reserved but she was a fabulous rider and led byexample.What a team we were. My dearest, life-longchum Jojo was the heart and soul of the team. On therare occasions things were not going too well shewould rally us and inspire us with her fearlessperformances.Claire Brooks always looked as if she hadstepped off the cover of Country Life. Long and lithe,pristine and elegant, and then she would open hermouth. Claire’s mother used to attend most meetsand I can’t tell you how many times we witnessedpoor old Claire being unceremoniously yanked acrossher mother’s knees to be soundly spanked with awood-backed hairbrush for potty-mouthing,regardless of the audience.I was the problem-child of the team due to thefact I was often between schools due to myunfortunate habit of being expelled.When I was unavailable our first reserve SarahForsham-Smythe would take my place. Sarah ofcourse is the daughter of the billionairess MelissaForsham-Smythe. Melissa was always apoplectic thather off-spring was not a first choice and it is onlyrecently that we have learned the extremes that shewas willing to go to in order for her daughter to getto ride in the Olympics.

7Pen and I were good chums but we were sovery different I never considered her as a target for apotential conquest.We were all gob-smacked when Penny Annfailed a urine test before a major event and wassentenced to seven years at Woodys under therecently enacted Anti-Ladette laws. A more unlikelyLadette would be hard to imagine.Jojo took over as Team Captain and Sarahbecame a permanent fixture on the squad. We had noidea that within the next two years that the teamwould be decimated and that Jojo, Claire and I wouldall be fitted out for clobber.Around this time Jojo and I started ourCreative Arts company. Jojo concentrated on theaterand the production of industrial size sculptures. I haddecided to follow in my father’s footsteps and workbehind the camera.My father is Nicolas Nixon and he has beendirecting and producing movies for over thirty years.He has never been Hollywood mainstream but hisfilms have played to packed movie houses all overEurope. He is considered to be a cultural icon inCzechoslovakia.I was brought up surrounded by exotic artisticspecimens and none more so than my step-motherPetron. I never really knew my birth mother as shedied in a car crash when I was barely able to walk.Petron was my father’s muse and had starredin his earliest films and they married two years aftermy mother’s untimely passing. She is French and

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonextraordinarily beautiful. She coached me in the waysof the world at a very young age.I started out making music videos. It wastremendous fun and I fancied myself as a rather racyartist working on the cutting edge. In hindsight thoseearly videos were somewhat naïve and pedestrianalthough at the time I considered them to be veryrisqué.I had not yet discovered my inner spanketteand it was not until slightly later that I began toinclude the BDSM themes that caused me to sufferconsiderable harassment from the Dark Agents of theSystem and were used as an excuse to bang me up atWoodys.In fact I am a rather unlikely candidate for mychosen fetish as my early experiences of corporalpunishment were far from erotic.

3Thrashed by a GoddessAlthough my father maintained a beautiful seashorehouse in Somerset he and Petron spent muchof the year in Paris and other European locales. So atthe age of eleven I was shipped off to boardingschool. After a childhood of travelling with my fatherand living on an unpredictable timetable I was notbest suited to the rigors and regimen of boardingschool life.The first of the schools I attended wasconsidered amongst the most prestigious in thecountry and was certainly amongst the mostexpensive. It was filled with members of thearistocracy and the daughters of the landed gentry.As the off-spring of a self-made film director I waslooked down upon as a parvenu. The gals were aprissy and self-important lot and none more so thanthe four gals who were known as ‘The Goddesses’.The four Goddesses were comprised of theHead-Gal and her Deputy and the Captains of the twohouses. We were expected to address them as

A Life in the Day of Nixdown NixonGoddess Ponsonby-Jones, Goddess Seighton-Holmes,or whatever their stuffy names might be.Nobody seemed to think it the least bit queerto have to say, “Yes, Goddess,” or “No, Goddess”,nobody that is except me who considered itridiculous.It was probably from these early experiencesthat I developed my sense of the absurd and thehealthy cynicism of which I am often accused.I had not long been at this hell-hole before Iwas summoned to the Head-Gals Chambers.When I arrived the four Goddesses werewaiting for me in all their pompous splendor. TheHead-Gal, Goddess Ponsonby-Jones did most of thegabbing, but it turned out that another be-yotch,Goddess Seighton-Holmes was the real villain of thepiece.I was informed that earlier in the evening I hadbeen guilty of ‘Gobbing a Goddess’! Apparently I hadpassed this be-yotch Seighton-Holmes in thequadrangle and had the audacity to go about mybusiness without stopping and saying, “Good eveningGoddess, is there anything I can do to assist you?”She had taken this as a personal slight and felt thatshe had been well and truly ‘gobbed’ as such behaviorwas so quaintly termed.I remember staring at them as if they werealiens from a different planet, which in many waysthey were. I muttered some form of an apologyalthough I did not feel in the least bit apologetic, butit didn’t really matter anyway. A cane was producedand I was informed that I was to be thrashed.

11I did not take this news well but they gave mea choice. I could either bend over the back of the sofaunder my own steam or they would physically holdme down. Needless to say I bent over.I was so angry that the caning itself did notseem to hurt much. Once Ponsonby-Jones wasfinished and I was allowed to return to the upright Ifelt I had no option. I hacked her in the shins!This resulted in a second caning, which I mustadmit did hurt rather considerably, although I neverlet them see that.This ridiculous incident cultivated my seriousdislike for being formally punished which continues tothis day. I felt that it was ridiculous that these beyotch’shad the power to bend me over and beat myarse with a whippy rattan cane.My stay at the school was an unhappy one, Iwas at constant war with the Goddesses and gobbedthem at every opportunity. They, of course, thrashedme whenever they had a chance. I always felt theneed to retaliate with shin-hacking which alwaysguaranteed me a few more strokes.I actually remained enrolled at the school foralmost three years. I think that my father’s generousgifts of new libraries and extensions to the facilitieshad more to do with that than their desire to retainme as a pupil. After all my father probably had moreloot than the combined chaps of the aristocraticbumpkins put together.I was thrashed fifteen times during my stay.That may not seem a lot when compared to therecords of my dear chums Debs, Claire and theBounder but to put it in perspective most girls at the

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonschool went through entire careers getting the caneonly once or twice, so clearly I was not popular withthe be-yotch Goddesses.Not that my time was entirely wasted. I wiledaway my time by honing my art of seduction andsubsidized my allowance giving lessons in Frenchkissingand the fine art of cunnilingus.Eventually I was booted out and started arather peripatetic education. Most schools were loatheto enroll somebody who had an expulsion on theirrecords. I was generally taken on for a probationaryperiod and was rarely invited to extend my stay.I picked up a few more canings along the wayand my shin-kicking responses generally sped up myearly evictions.My final educational hoorah was ratherspectacular. I had been enrolled at yet another prissyinstitute and had immediately busied myself withseducing several members of the Upper Sixth form.Unfortunately I fell foul of the Headgirl.She was hankering for a little Nicola Janeaction but I refused her overtures. After all she hadrecently bent me over for six of the best and I hadstandards, bedding down with her would have beentantamount to sleeping with the enemy.She took out her spite by reporting myactivities to the Grand Dame and one morning I wassummoned onto the stage in morning assembly andpublicly denounced as a degenerate. I was caned infront of the whole school.I felt I had little choice but to retaliate and foronce I didn’t consider shin-hacking to be theappropriate response to being publicly caned so I

13procured some explosives and fire-bombed the beyotch’scar. Sadly she wasn’t in it.As you can tell I was an unlikely candidate fordeveloping a penchant for recreational spanking.

4Recreational SpankingPenny Ann did not hold back. She knows mytastes and knows that I do not spend time across herknee’s to indulge in a gentle paddy-whacking.She had me tucked into the crease of her lapwith her arm around my waist. I couldn’t haveescaped if I had wanted to. Penelope Ann isphenomenally strong. She was brought up on a farmin East Anglia and despite her chaps being wellheeledand having plenty of staff she was expected tolend a hand in working the land.I love the feeling of her leather gloved palmrebounding from my naked flesh. I love the sensualleather infused smell of the tack-room and theflickering candle-light. I was in Nixdown heaven andthe night had only just begun.My first foray into recreational spanking wasnot actually that recreational at all.I was working on my first movie as anassistant director and dating one of the camera-men,a hunk of a chap.

15One evening we had arranged to meet fordinner and for reasons long forgotten I was severalhours late. He was furious and when we got back tohis apartment he put me over his knee, flipped backmy skirt and gave me a damn good spanking.Needless to say I was outraged and respondedin typical Nixdown fashion by hacking him in theshins, slapping him around the kisser and stormingoff in a high old snit.However, when I got home I found myselfcuriously aroused by the memory and found itimpossible to sleep. There was nothing else for it, Ireturned to his apartment and demanded that heRodger my eyes out, but only after he had put meover his knee for a second time a spanked me until Isqueaked. The rest as they say is history.The heat in my bottom was growing inintensity and I could not help but wriggle and squirma little under the deluge of spanks. As I squirmed Icould feel the softness of the fabric of my blouseagainst the flesh of my tummy, it was a deliciouslyexotic sensation.Recently my clobber consultant sent mesamples of a new fabric she had found at one of myfavorite tailors in the backstreets of Ho Chi Minh City.It is basically two layers bonded together. Theexternal layer of the garment is a crisp cotton thatholds its creases perfectly and its stiffened collar isperfectly spread to accent a well-knotted tie. Thesecondary internal lining is a beautiful soft andluscious silk.

A Life in the Day of Nixdown NixonMy chums josh me about my passion forclobber but anybody who tries out well craftedclobber is an instant convert.My chum Deborah Morton has always beensomething of a hobo. Even when she was famous andalways in the newspapers she always hid underbaseball caps, over-sized leather jackets and sweatpants.The only thing that she ever seemed to spendany money on was cowboy boots, of which she hasan extensive collection.At Woodys she was amongst the most clobberchallenged gals in the unit and took numerousunnecessary excursions over Katie Becks lap to haveher rump roasted with a leather soled slipper forclobber abuse. I put it down to that cheap cataloguecrap she insists on buying. It is a shame reallybecause she is a pretty little thing and I alwaysthought that she would brush up nicely.When Deborah was promoted to Deputy RedshirtI decided that it was time to take her in hand. Iflew my clobber consultant out to Ibiza, where wewere all spending furlough, and had Debs measuredup for tailored clobber. She made a terrible fuss aboutthe expense. It is not that she is a tight-wad but sheis squirreling away every penny to support herself andher team when she returns to the tennis circuit nextyear. I reassured her that my father had generouslyapproved the ‘Morton Makeover’ budget. She finallyrather poutily succumbed and now she is a convert tomy style of radical chic. This is fortunate becauseshe’s back in the news these days and is perceived asan icon for the zeitgeist of Whops and Clobber and it

17wouldn’t do to have a hobo as our representative. ButI digress.Penny Ann rearranged me in her lap, makingsure that I was teed up and primed. I knew what toexpect. She was preparing to blitz me.The blitz is really the heart and soul of aspanking. She had been slowly and methodicallysmacking my bottom in a predictable tempo, workingup one cheek and back down the other. Every spankdesigned to build up the heat and increase thediscoloration of my sitmedown. By then I was deep inthe zone and perfectly mentally prepared to beblitzed.Actually no matter how experienced or whophardened you become you are never truly prepared tobe blitzed. The spanks rained down fast and furious. Icouldn’t help myself, I gyrated and kicked my legsspastically. I punched the air and shook my head inbewilderment as her leather hand landed randomly inan alarmingly unpredictable manner. A blitz attackmay only last a few seconds but it seems like aneternity.I lay panting and inert across her knees tryingto get my breath back and to stop my pounding heartfrom leaping out from below my blouse. It was adizzying sensation and I was in Nixdown heaven. Itwas clearly time for champagne.

5MentoringDebs takes off for her run and I pour two cupsof coffee, one for me and one for Jojo. We don’tactually share a study anymore now that we havebeen elevated to the giddy heights of the Elite but oldhabits die hard.I cut through the labyrinth of wood-floored,oak-paneled corridors towards the back stairwell thatwill take me up to the private landing reserved for thestudies of the gals in Phase 7 of our sentences.Nobody is about yet and the only sound is the click ofmy heels that echo rather eerily around the hugebuilding.Today I am the designated Duty Monitor andwill be responsible for assisting Lady VictoriaBrompton and Debs in administrating and maintainingdiscipline over the inmates. As it is Saturday this willbe a full-time job as there are no lectures convenedover the weekends. As usual I shall concentrate onadministration and will leave the discipline part of theequation to Vix and Debs. After my experiences with

19the odious Goddesses I am not much inclined towardswielding that type of power and authority.Nonetheless, I do understand the need fordiscipline in a facility such as this. Now we couldargue until kingdom comes over the rights andwrongs of the Anti-Ladette laws but the fact of thematter is that the government, with the support ofthe Great Unwashed, took a dim view of our freewheelingactivities and deemed us to be need ofExtreme Social Rehabilitation. I may think that this isall fabricated tosh and doubtless history will prove meright. However, when we started our sentences therules, regulations and protocols were drummed intous, or more accurately spanked into us, and withgreat vigor.During the first year of our sentences we wereknown as Little Brats and designated as Grubbies.Being a Grubby meant that you were assigned to amember of the Elite to act as her fucking serf inreturn for her mentoring services.Mentoring services included draping us. Bydraping I mean turning us face down, arse upwardswhile they dusted our bumbags. Our mentor was alsowaggishly known as our Personal Draper.I was assigned to be mentored by themonstrous be-yotch Katie Beck, while she was still aninmate at the facility.Now let’s get something straight, Katie Beckwas a hard-core criminal and well-known to havebeen the first female senior vice-president of theConfederacy of Yoofs. How she managed to finagleher way into being charged under the Anti-Ladettelaws instead of being carted off wearing a ball and

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonchain to do hard labor is one of the great mysteries oflife kept classified by the darkest of the Dark Agents.The rules, regulations and protocols arecontained in mighty tomes and during our first weekat the facility we were required to learn them byheart, our mentor could spot test us any time shechose.Katie, of course, elected to test me regularlyand regardless of whether I gave the correctresponses or not she always found a reason to yankme over her knee and dust me liberally. Now this typeof behavior is guaranteed to give a gal of mytemperament a severe dose of the pip so I resortedto my tried and trusted skill in shin-hacking.This made for an acrimonious relationship.Katie knew that she could not very well report me asmost of the dustings were completely unjustified. Webegan a war of attrition.Katie is a queer cove by any standards. She isof course knock down beautiful with that mane ofhair, bright blue eyes and a body to die for. She isalso a cruel, nasty and odious specimen of humanity.In another of life’s mysteries she had donesome more finagling and had got herself elected asRed-shirt. This was due to the fact that during theearly part of her sentence her chaps had died in a carcrash and Ms Lawton had taken over responsibility foracting as her Court Appointed Guardian. Unwisely MsLawton had decided that giving Katie responsibilitymight increase her ward’s chances of becomingsocially rehabilitated. Snakes do not become sociallyrehabilitated and Katie is a fucking viper.

21Early in the piece I was mooching about herstudy grubbing and overheard her gabbing with hersycophantic confidantes. She was boasting that sheintended to thrash every inmate at the facility withinher first hundred days of office. According to therecord books she achieved this in half the time.Katie and I fought constantly. She is muchbigger than me but she is a vile bully and basically acoward. On several occasions I managed to scratchher face leaving her to try and explain herdisfigurement to Ms Lawton.She in turn responded by habitually yankingdown my bumbags and spanking me relentlessly. Thiswas strictly against the protocols but it did earn methe nickname of Nixdown Nixon.I could have appealed but any such applicationhad to be filed with Patricia Hodge, the Deputy GrandDame. Patty is another vile and odious specimen and,of course, she was Katie’s personal sponsor andmentor. With that avenue closed to me I continuedwith my shin-kicking strategy.Now that I am in the Elite I have my owngrubby. I was assigned a fabulous young lady calledFrancesca Reese. Frankie was an independent actressbefore she fell foul of the Dark Agents. She is bestknown for her on-screen delivery of Lady Macbeth’ssleepwalking soliloquy while as naked as a jay-bird.She has been an occasional bone of contentionbetween me and Penny Ann, who rather distrustfullysuspects that I have my eye on my grubby. Thisunderstandable as Frankie is something to behold

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonwith her mane of golden amulets that pour down herback. However, she doesn’t need to worry as for oncein my degenerate life I have made a pact with myselfthat I will never do anything that would hurt PennyAnn.

6Planet NixPen and I enjoyed an icy glass of bubbles. Shesat on a bale of hay; I lay on my tummy at her feet. Imay be Nixdown, woman of steel, but my bum wassizzling and sitting down did not strike me as aparticularly attractive proposition.My bum was burning delightfully. There was noneed to hurry things. The night was still young andnobody was going to bother us in our sanctuary and Iwanted to savor the moment while I sipped myfavorite tipple.Penny Ann picked up the leather riding cropand toyed with it teasingly in her gloved hands. Shewas totally relaxed in our private world and shelooked magnificent in her skin hugging shirt with hertie slightly loosened.The crop she was holding is one of myfavorites. It is a vintage piece with a braided pig-skincovered shaft and a engraved silver niello handle,finished with a horn knob.I have been collecting crops obsessively since Iwas very young and started riding, long before I had

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonany inkling of my persuasion. I suspect that a trickcyclist might make something of the innermechanisms of my subconscious but I am not a greatone for shrinks. I spent a large part of my youth invarious doctor’s waiting rooms when the authoritieswere trying to unveil some dark secret behind mycompulsion with shin-hacking. I bamboozled themwith a shed-full of porkies. As far as I was concernedmy compulsion was a perfectly natural reaction tohaving my bottom whipped by some snotty be-yotchwith a cane in her hand.I stood up and fetched the bottle andrefreshed the glasses. Pen swished the crop throughthe air playfully. It made a threatening whistle. Shesmiled at me and winked.Penny Ann has grown to be at ease with thedynamic of our relationship. It took her a little time tofind her comfort zone but these days she is quitehappy getting her kicks on Nix-Sixty-Six.When we first started to play together I’m surethat I confused Pen. She was the Red-shirt of thefacility and on two occasions she had been requiredto dangle me in the disciplinary theater. By beingdangled I am referring to being put across her knee,upstairs in the library, and being spanked on my barebum with the back of a long-handled, oval-headed,wood-backed hairbrush. As I have said earlier I donot take this type of punishment well and accordingto Penelope Ann I was rather grumpy during theseincidents. As a result she was understandablybewildered when I invited her to the stables and

25demanded that she thrash me with a leather ridingcrop.It didn’t take her long to get tuned into PlanetNix and when I’m face downwards across her lap Iam always confident that she will not wimp out andhold back.Yesterday evening she was the Mistress of mydestiny and it was up to her to set the pace.“Come here,” she told me.I set my glass to one side and stood up.Without needing any further instruction I offered hermy wrist so that she could assist me as I arrangedmyself across her knees.She turned back my skirt and rearranged mybumbags until they were concertinaed around myankles. She stroked my red and swollen bum with theover-sized slapper at the tip of the crop and allowedme some time to settle in.There was absolutely no question that the nextfew minutes were going to become extremely hot andsweaty. The whippy braided shaft would slice myflesh like a knife cutting through ripe fruit. I wasalmost delirious with raw adrenalin and anticipation.Without warning she slashed the cropdownwards and my body was instantly wracked byparoxysms of agony which my brain translated intopure ecstasy. I was immediately hurtled on my way toPlanet Nix.In my opinion a braided riding crop is a perfectinstrument for delivering a whipping. It’s relatively

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonshort shaft makes it ideal for close-up over the kneework. The slightly stiff shaft and the flexible slapperat the tip work together to impart the most exquisitecombination of smart and sting.Now I have to admit that I am in the minorityin my taste for the crop. At one time or another mostgals have been required to fold themselves over MsLummell, the riding instructor’s, knee so that thejodhpurs can be rolled down and their hindquarterstickled with their own crops. According to a recentpoll on the GalGab web-site this particular form ofpunishment rated very low on most of the inmates’wish-list.Pen was putting her arm into it. During herperiod as Red-shirt she earned a respectablereputation for her prowess with the wood-backedhairbrush and the skills she learned translate rathernicely to our private sessions.She whipped the crop down with considerableforce and I purred with pleasure.

7Yvonne and JanetI stuck my head around the door to Jojo’sstudy. Her bed has not been slept in so I assume thatshe has spent the night in the Grand Master’squarters. I smile to myself. It is wonderful to knowthat my best chum is so happy and contented in herromance with Mr Humphries. They will be married inthe summer, once we are released, and I shall be herMaid of Honor.I go next door into my own study and put thetwo coffee cups down on my desk and head for theshower. It is still barely six o’clock and I don’t go onduty for an hour so I have time to luxuriate andpamper myself.Sometime last evening, before she turned infor the night Frankie has stopped by and laid out afresh set of clobber on my bed. Unlike many of theinmates who only maintain a minimum wardrobe Ihave a huge collection. I am really fussy about myclobber, obsessively so maybe, and on a busy day liketoday I may well change my blouse three or four

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixontimes. I will also make a complete change before thisevening’s social event.I have just finished drying my hair and amknotting my red tie when Lady Derby Huntingtonpokes her head around the door.“Good Morning, Ma’am,” she says cheerfully. “Ihave just made fresh coffee for Miss Morton, wouldyou like me to bring you a cup?”Derby grubs for Debs. She is an absolute doteand as mad as a March Hare. She hails from one ofthe nations oldest and most respected family’s andwas brought up surrounded by maids, valets andliveried footmen. Nonetheless she has taken to thelife of a grubby with remarkable enthusiasm andtends to Deborah’s every need morning, noon andnight.I thank her and make a final adjustment to theknot of my tie so that it is seated neatly in a perfectvee and fully covering the top button of my blouse.Derby returns with a mug of coffee. “Is thereanything else I can get for you, Ma’am?” she asks.We have been trying to cure Derby of callingus Ma’am except in public, when it is a requiredprotocol, but she just giggles and ignores us. I tell herthat I’m fine and she tells me she will cut along andget everything prepared for Deborah’s return fromher run. No sooner has Derby departed than there isanother knock on the door.“Come,” I call and Yvonne Godfrey and JanetMitchell shuffle into the room.“Reporting for duty, Ma’am,” mutters Yvonne.

29Now I have absolutely no problem with Yvonnereferring to me as Ma’am, in fact I insist upon it.Yvonne and Janet spent seven years asinmates of the facility and are loathsome and odiouscretins. During the dark days of Operation ScorchedArse they served in Elite and were the principal’s ofthe heinous Secret Sorority of Serial Spankers. Withthe sponsorship of Patty Hodge and Katie theirassignment was to make life miserable for theinmates and cut as many pairs of bumbags to tattersas humanly possible.They both caned me a time or two and I canassure you that they made it an even moredisagreeable experience than usual.After their release from Woodys theyapparently returned to their roots and threw theirbumbags back in the ring with the Confederacy ofYoofs. Somewhere along the way the thought itwould be a wizard wheeze to go into the kidnappingbusiness.Fortunately the Yoofs enlisted the assistance ofa bunch of incompetent Scouser’s and it all wentpear-shaped in a heartbeat. Yvonne and Janet werecaptured and returned to the Unit for theirparticipation in this fiasco.Now the once mighty Commandants of the SSare reduced to the role of permanent grubbies. Theyare responsible for maintenance and cleaning of thefacility and each day they are also required to providerelief grubbing support on the Elite landing.By and large the inmates are not a vindictivebunch but it would be impossible not to harbor some

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixongrudges against this pair of be-yotch’s and not toenjoy some gloating satisfaction at their reducedcircumstances.“Morning ladies, hands on your heads, youknow the form,” I greet them.Janet looks resigned as she raises her arms.Yvonne on the other hand takes the time to glare atme before complying; her eyes burn with anger andresentment as she links her hands on top of her head.Before we discuss their day’s assignments I amrequired to subject them to a full clobber inspection. Idoubt that they will be foolish enough to pitch up withtheir clobber in an abusive state but it is anopportunity to make them sweat a little.I start with an inspection of their blazers andthen proceed to methodically check every stitch,seam, hem and button of their clothing. As Isuspected I do not find any infringements of theclobber protocols but you can tell by the relief ontheir faces when I tell them that they can lower theirarms that they found the experience suitablydisagreeable.I click on the duty roster on my laptop andlearn that today they have been assigned to supportLady Derby in her grubbing duties. I suppress a grin.Derby is a hard task-mistress and will not tolerate anyslacking on her watch. She will have Yvonne andJanet scurrying about hither and thither and willmonitor their performance like a hawk. Lady Derbyhas no compunction when it comes to dispatchingthem to the library for a thrashing if she feels thatthey have not met her exacting standards.

31The list of assignments includes several routinemaintenance tasks including polishing the floor of theGrand Hall in preparation for tonight’s feast. I printthe list and send them on their way. I should feelsome sympathy for them but I don’t. Be-yotch’s.

8Victoria and DebsI pull on my red silk and mohair blazer andfasten the five buttons up the front. I go over to theumbrella stand and select an ashplant cane which Iwill be required to carry tucked under my left armthroughout the day. This is rather unnecessary as Ihave ceded my thrashing rights to Debs but itremains a requirement of the Elite Charter so I do notfeel inclined to argue the point.The ashplants are very slender, eighteen inchlong canes that apparently have been in use bymembers of the Elite ever since the original WoodySchool was first established in the mid-1800s.According to Debs who researches this kind of stuffthey are produced by some family in Dublin and arecut from saplings of a particular mountain ash-treeand then cooked in a chimney-oven. She alsomentioned that according to the advertising literaturethey come guaranteed one-hundred-per-cent testedfor performance. I’m not sure where you find the jobapplications but if ever I’m in the mood for a careerchange or in need of a few extra squids I could

33always sign up for a position in the family’s qualitycontrol division.Now suitably accessorized for my day as theDuty Monitor I stroll down the landing to LadyVictoria’s study to see whether she is ready.Lady Vix is swallowing down the dregs of hercoffee, presumably supplied by the good offices ofDerby and burning a cigarette. She is dressed in adeep red silk blouse with black piping around thecollar and a short black flared skirt. She wears a blacktie around her neck that she has not yet got aroundto fastening.“Morning,” she half-yawns, “Give me a fewminutes and we’ll get the fawkin’ show on the road,”she drawls in her aristocratic voice.I tell her that there is no hurry and bum one ofher fags.I have known Vix since the Ladette days whenJojo and I used to party together with the likes of Catand Melons. Glorious days when we worked likedemons all day and tripped the light fantastic allnight. Before she was arrested and banged up atWoodys, for dancing naked in the fountains ofTrafalgar Square on her twenty-first birthday, I hadthe privilege of attending several of her New-YearsEve balls at her father’s pile. I think that Victoria’sfamily has an even longer heritage than Derby’s.Brompton Castle was built back in the ninth or tenthcentury and is a rather ethereal spot on the top of ahill with panoramic views of the Brompton estate. Theinterior has mostly been renovated and modernizedbut thankfully the Brompton family has had the goodsense to keep the dungeons intact and I have spent

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonmany dreamy and eventful nights in the dark recessesof the castle.Victoria finally stops bustling about and pullsher black blazer out of the closet. I go over andfasten the top two buttons of her shirt and knot hertie correctly. She smiles and pulls on her blazer.“I guess we’d better fawkin’ cut along,” shedrawls.I love potty-mouthed aristocrats.We are cutting across the quadrangle in thedirection of the Grand Masters quarters when Debscatches us up. She slips her arm into mine and startsto prattle on about some new gadget that she hasthat she wears on her wrist while she is running andmonitors all manner of her critical functions. She isstill on an endorphin rush and despite the fact I haveno idea what she is talking about I know that there isno hope of stopping her. Deborah is notorious for herpersistence in delivering her opinions andobservations. I catch Victoria’s eye and we exchangea wink. In a few moments Debs will just run out ofsteam and by the time we reach the Grand Master’squarters she will be prepared to start her day in therole of Victoria’s deputy.Over the last few days there have rumors onthe gossvine that Victoria is considering standingdown as Red-shirt and handing over the reins toDebs.Although I count her amongst my closestchums my relationship with Deborah Morton hasoccasionally been fractious. I am sometimes accused

35of being cynical but actually I just think that I have aninnately suspicious nature and I have sometimessuspected that Debs engineers many of her morecalamitous situations for her own personal selfaggrandizement.Deborah naturally denies any suchaccusations and our disagreements have occasionallycaused significant rifts in the lute.At the end of last year when Mr Humphrieswas seeking a successor to Lady Victoria he lobbiedJojo and I to fulfill the role of Red-shirt. For differentreasons we both turned down the position and weboth expressed the opinion that despite Deborah’s fallfrom grace with Ms Lawton that we just assumed thatwould be forgotten and she would be the naturalcandidate. After all she is an unreasonably (andperhaps even unnaturally) gifted individual and it isactually her abundance of fatal flaws that make herso attractive and sometimes even endearing.However, The Grand Master explained that he fearedthat she would just be too high maintenance and Ihave to say that I agreed with him. Eventually LadyVix was persuaded to stay on for a second term eventhough she has officially finished her sentence.Despite the Grand Masters concerns Victorialobbied for Debs to firstly be promoted to Captain ofthe Red House and then subsequently as her Deputy.I am forced to admit that Debs has proved mewrong and has done a smashing job in both roles, soI am more than happy to endorse her when the timecomes. I just wish that she would stop babbling in myear about heart-rates and breathing patterns.

9Red-Card for GingerJojo is sitting at the kitchen counter sipping amug of coffee. She is still in the throes of gettingdressed, her blouse is unfastened at the neck and notyet tucked into the waistband of her skirt, a towelknotted into a turban over her still damp hair.“He’ll be out in a minute; he’s in his office onthe phone,” she informs us, “the coffee’s fresh, helpyourselves.”We mooch about the kitchen for a few minutesdrinking java and gabbing idly until the Grand Mastercomes out of his office.“Morning ladies,” he greets us amiably, “what’son the agenda today?”Victoria pulled a sheet of paper out of herblazer pocket and gave us a run-down on all the day’sscheduled activities. In contrast to the weekdayswhen we spend the vast majority of our time in thelecture rooms immersed in the rigors of educationalprograms the weekends at Woodys are far lessstructured.

37There are numerous workshops available tothe inmates that are hosted by volunteer members ofour community. The grass hockey team has an awaymatch and there is a cross-country ride across theDowns scheduled. Jojo is planning another majorWoody theatrical production and there are variousauditions throughout the day. During each term theinmates are allowed three town-passes to allow themto take care of personal business or to visit the localhaberdasheries to be measured up for replacementclobber so at least a dozen gals would be off campusfor most of the afternoon.Despite all these distractions the weekends stilloffer considerable opportunities for the mega-minxesto indulge in creating an atmosphere of mischief andmayhem. The weekend whop-rate is traditionallyrather high and as Duty Monitor I will have my workcut out to try to maintain some semblance of orderaround the compound.Victoria, Debs and I verify that we have all theinterfaces plugged into our smart-phones and theGrand Master tells us that he will see us shortly in theassembly hall.I share a quick hug with Jojo; she winks at meand wishes me good luck before I cut along.I do not feel at all lucky when Ginger Beckettdecides to trip up a gal in front of her as the inmatesare entering the assembly hall.I cut my eyes sideways and glance over at Vixand Debs. It is clear that they have both seen thistotally guileless act of tomfoolery and they are waitingfor me to respond. I was closest to the action and it is

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonmy responsibility to show Ginger a red-card. I hatethis part of the job.Ginger is a very close chum but I took the Eliteoath and swore that I would treat all the inmatesequally, whether friend or foe. I could take the easyway out and pretend that I didn’t see Ginger trippingthe gal and leave it to Vix or Debs to do the dirtydeed but I know that would not be fair. I sighinwardly and reach into my inside pocket and extractmy card.“Beckett, Phase 5, step up for goofing,” I hearmyself say. I have just sentenced my chum to severalhot and sweaty minutes bending over the back of achair with her bumbags around her ankles for sixstrokes of the cane.Ginger doesn’t show any reaction, she is aprofessional mega-minx and knows how to put on agame face. She knows that she is bang to rights andaccepts her fate but it doesn’t stop me from feelinglike a heel. I very much doubt that it is the last redcardthat I shall be compelled to show today.I watch gloomily as Patty Hodge, Katie Beckand the Wart sweep into the hall and bear down uponGinger. I know exactly what is about to transpire.Patty leans in close to Gingers face and is clearlyspitting barbed vitriolic into Gingers ear. Patty ishighly skilled in these situations and she keeps hervoice so low that only poor Ginger and her smirkingcohorts can hear what she is saying. Having been onthe receiving end of Patty’s lacerating tongue a timeor two I can assure that she is not exchangingpleasantries.

39Victoria only allows this to go on for a fewseconds before striding over to intervene. Katie Becktries to impede her but Victoria elbows her in the ribs.Katie squeals and leaps out of Victoria’s way.“Ms Hodge do you have something to say?”demands Vix.Patty glares at our Red-shirt. “Beckett’s tie isundone,” she snaps, “I’m issuing her a supplementaryred-card.”“Miss Beckett’s clobber infraction has been dulynoted Ms Hodge,” says Vix on a low tone. “No furtheraction required.”Patty pulls herself up to her full height andglares down at Vix. Patty is tall even in her stockingedfeet and she wears three-inch heels to add to herphysical presence. She is a remarkable specimen ofcreation with flame red hair and emerald green eyesthat I suspect that are enhanced by devious opticalmeans. She can be rather intimidating but Victoria isnot the easily intimidated sort.Lady Victoria loves to recount her childhooddays when she was taught to box and wrestle by herfour elder brothers in the grounds of the castle. Manyof the inmates have had reason to thank Vix whenshe has stepped in and stuck up her dukes to protectthem from the bullying factions of our environment.Victoria glances sidelong at Katie and the Wartand they high-tail it towards the steps of the stage asfast as their legs can carry them.I can sense that Patty is contemplating radicalaction but Vix has closed in and is now between theevil Dame and Ginger. I can’t help noticing that herfists are clenching and unclenching as she stares

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonunwaveringly at Patty. I suspect that she isconsidering biffing Ms Hodge on the snooter.Patty glares down at her and then spins on herheel. “I’ll get you for this Brompton,” she snarls.Vix waits until Patty reaches the foot of thestairs. “Yeah rock on Patty,” she drawls. “And that’sLady fawkin’ Brompton to you.”Naturally Victoria putting Patty back in her boxis greeted by the requisite tittering and sniggering,but the inmates are quickly silenced when Vix turnsaround and commands, “Silence, silence in the hall,Grand Master approaching!”

10A Case of the ResidualsThe Grand Master only stops momentarily todismiss Ginger from the hall and send her upstairs toget herself inspected. Ginger used to be aprofessional ballerina and normally she moves with awonderful grace and seems to glide across the floorbut she looks self-conscious and slightly ungainly asshe trudges towards the door. Poor Ginger, nothing tolook forward to except six of the very best.The remainder of assembly is a routine affairwith Mr Humphries repeating the day’s agenda thatwe had discussed earlier. As I am leaving the hallDeborah falls in beside me and slips her arm intomine.“Don’t look so glum, you know that it was afair call,” she says soothingly. “She knows the form sothere’s no point in beating yourself up about it.”She is right, of course, but it doesn’t stop mefrom feeling like a heel.We cut through the corridors and step out intothe cloisters. It is a brisk morning but the sun is

43check. He cut her hair back to just below hershoulders and gave her a loose perm that hepromised was low maintenance. Deborah wasabsolutely thrilled with the results and even insistedon taking me to the VIP room in Monets and shellingout for a bottle of bubbly. She confided that herearlier grouchiness had nothing to do with thewhopping she had received but that she hadn’t beento a hairdresser’s for over a decade preferring to trimher hair herself, which explains a lot.We head across the quadrangle. The quad isthe central thoroughfare and gals are beginning tomill about. Debs gives me a hug, wishes me goodluck and tells me to let her know if I need her. Weboth know what that means.I climb the broad flight of steps that will giveme a good vantage point so I can monitor theactivities in both the quad and the rec area. BeingDuty Monitor is terribly tedious, I’ll spend the daywandering about the vast compound keeping my eyeopen for overt mischief and malfeasance or excessiveand dangerous horseplay.After about fifteen minutes I see Gingercoming out of the main building. She has her handsstuffed into her blazer pockets and her gait isdecidedly stiff-legged. I walk down the steps andhurry across the quad.“I’m sorry about the red-card,” I tell her.She just shrugs. “Not your fault Nix, you werejust doing your job,” she assures me.“So how was it?” I ask.

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixon“Not so good actually,” she says in her soft lilt.“It didn’t help that I got six on the silks last night andwas suffering from a severe case of the residuals.”“Oh my gawd,” I sigh. “I had no idea.”“You weren’t to know, it hasn’t been postprocessedyet. As a matter of fact I’m on my way tosee Melons so that we can complete the paperwork,”she tells me.I give her a hug and leave her to wriggle offand go about her business. I feel even more like aheel than before.Being caned by the Grand Master is alwaystough duty and made many times worse if you havethe misfortune of wearing the residual effects from alate night beating from Melons across your bum.Melanie is a class act and a highly respected powerbeater.A couple of years ago, during her first term asDorm Raider, she bent me and Jojo over our bedsand gave us a thrashing. It was quite awesome. Itmight have been quite delicious under differentcircumstances but at the time it was mostdisagreeable. Poor Ginger.Most of the gals are heading in the direction ofthe cafeteria where for the next few hours CassieCassy and her team will be serving a buffet brunch.There is little happening in the quad or rec areas so Idecide to go back into the house.

11In Charge of the Hen-HouseThe main building dates back to theseventeenth century and was once the countryretreat of some punter with more money that God. Itis four storey’s tall and is a labyrinth of interconnectingcorridors, hallways and stairwells. When Ifirst started my sentence I needed a map andcompass to navigate the complex but now after sevenyears I can find my way around blind-folded.I climb the four flights of stairs that lead up tothe Elite landing with no particular purpose in mind. Ipass by the open door to Deborah’s study and canhear Lady Derby barking instructions at Yvonne andJanet with admirable authority. I chuckle to myself. Itcouldn’t happen to a more deserving pair of beyotch’s.Frankie is in my study straightening anddusting. Actually there is nothing that really needsstraightening or dusting but there is a queerphenomenon occurring amongst this year’s intake of

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixongrubbies. Lady Derby, Frankie, and Jojo’s grubbyMichelle Morgan are tight and for some reason theyappear to have embarked on some form ofcompetitive grubbing contest. Apparently Frankie andMichelle are determined not to be out-grubbed byLady Derby. It is all rather strange.“It’s Saturday Frankie, why don’t you takesome quality time with your chums?” I ask idly.“Besides I thought that you were helping Jojo withthe auditions?”“They don’t start for an hour,” she says. “I justwanted to check that everything is in order.”I have given up arguing.Frankie, Derby and Michelle are a remarkabletrio and have created quite a storm at the Unit. Theyare by any standards natural born minxes and arealready garnering headlines reminiscent of the glorydays when Cat Cassidy dubbed Jojo, Debs, Rosemaryand I as the ‘Famous Four’. We’ve had plenty of Überminxesfollow in our footsteps, Cassie Cassy of coursebut she is widely considered to be certifiably barking,and both Heidi Alexander and Linda Ash really made aname for themselves last year. But the ‘TerribleThreesome’ are something special and are ascompetitive about scoring whops as we were back inthe day.None of them arrived at Woodys sporting virginarses. Frankie likes to tell a delightful story aboutbeing spanked on her bare bottom in front of thewhole school for skinny dipping in the school pool.Some years later, in an interview with a French artsmagazine she would report that, “after being spanked

47on the bare bottom in front of several hundredwitnesses taking my clothes off to recite Shakespearedid not seem the least bit intimidating.” I keep an eyeout for that kind of thing.Derby has always been in the news. She wasbestowed with her curious name after her father rodethe winner at Ascot just minutes before his wife gavebirth to his only daughter. For some reason the GreatUnwashed could not get enough of Derby storieswhich were largely filled with accounts of herexpulsions from numerous expensive boardingschools at a rate which makes my own educationalrecord seem relatively stable.She is the youngest woman ever to be sent toWoodys after she was arrested by the Dark Agents ata private party at the family pile on her eighteenthbirthday. Her schooling coincided with the abolition ofcorporal punishment but in the days preceding thechange in the law she managed to accumulate acreditable tally of whops and was probably on theroad to greatness.In contrast Michelle is oldest woman to be sentto Woodys, in fact it is only a loop-hole exploited bythe Dark Agents that makes her incarceration legal.She had previously served a term at the RipleyBack to School Unit and was released on probation.Somewhere along the way she went to Canada for ashort trip and managed to miss her flight home. Shebecame known as the ‘Runaway Ladette’. I’m notsure of all the details but somehow she ended upbeing featured on some photographer’s web-site in aseries of deliciously erotic poses. Unfortunately forMichelle some old perv from the Dark Agents

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonhappened upon the photo-set when he was surfingthe web for such material and she was arrested.Michelle certainly didn’t arrive sporting a virginarse. According to Ministry of Education records madepublic during the tribunal she ranks number fourbehind Debs, Claire and the Bounder as the mostcaned pupils in history.Of course, officially we are their mentors andnot supposed to encourage their outrageous antics.However, Mr Humphries gave us these assignmentsand he rarely does anything without some motive. Ifhe thought that it was appropriate to put the foxes incharge of the hen-house then he doubtless knewwhat to expect.I say ta-rah to Frankie and set-off to continueon my rounds.

12Rude, Grumpy and Foul-MouthedThe floor below the Elite landing houses morestudies that are occupied by the Phase Five and Sixinmates. They are smaller than the upstairs suitesand each small room has two single beds, a couple ofwork-stations and a small en-suite bathroom. Theymay be small but they are considerably better thanthe open-plan dorms we slept in during the first yearsof our sentences.I shared a study with Jojo for two years whichwas a lot of fun. Jojo is kind of the life-force amongstthe community and our study was always as busy asGrand Central Station. I can’t tell you how muchmischief and mayhem was plotted in our little study.Glorious times.Halfway along the Phase 6 landing I stop andpoke my head around the door of the study occupiedby Bernadette Summers and Lisa Sutton.The two gals are seated on their bedssurrounded by piles of bank-notes. Bernadette, or theBounder, as she is better known is the campus

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonbookie. She takes bets on anything from the nags tothe dogs but these days we mostly bet on ourbumbags. We can wager on all manner ofpermutations, who is going to be whopped next,ranking on the Hall of Shame, etcetera, etcetera.Saturday morning is settling up time and the Bounderand Lisa are pouring over their ledgers.“How did you do this week?” I ask them.“I lost my blouse, my blazer and mybumbags,” grumbles the Bounder.Lisa just chuckles and rolls her eyes. TheBounder always claims that she is making spectacularlosses but we all know different. She makes out like abandit.Gambling is not the Bounders only line ofbusiness. Her godfather is a colorful cove calledStacks Monroe. Stacks owns a highly respected jazzclub up in the Smoke. He is also a gangster and thebest fence in the city. Oh, and I should add that he isa gentleman and one of the nicest people you willever meet.Stacks provides Bernadette with a wide arrayof contraband which she sells around campus. Thereis almost nothing that she can’t get her hands on soshe is a very useful and popular member of thecommunity.Lisa runs her finger down the ledger. “We oweyou a few squids Nix, do you want cash or shall wekeep it on your account?” she asks me.I laugh. The only real place to spend money onthe campus is with Bernadette Summers Enterprises.If I’m not betting on my bumbags I’m buying booze,

51fags or other items from her inventory. There’s littlepoint in cashing in my chips.“I’ll let it roll over,” I tell them.The Bounder stands up and starts to slideenvelopes stuffed with cash into the elastic waistbandof her bumbags. It is really quite amazing what shemanages to secret under her skirt.She picks up a particularly well stuffedenvelope and scowls. “Look at this,” she grumbles.“Cat has been betting large on Cassie Cassy. I don’tthink that it’s fair that she can bet on her sister.That’s like insider trading.”Lisa rolls her eyes again. “You took the bet,Bounder. Cat would string you up by the elastic ofthose magic bumbags of yours if you don’t pay up.”Bernadette just glowers. The Bounder isawesomely gorgeous. She is Sri-Lankan and has themost beautiful and perfect skin I’ve ever seen. Shehas jet-black hair and eyes and teeth that gleamwhen she smiles, which is rarely. She shrugs on herblazer and stomps towards the door muttering darkhexes against the punters who have had the audacityto actually win and are demanding pay-out.Bernadette is belligerent, grumpy, rude and foulmouthedand I think she is wonderful.I continue on my rounds, working my downthrough the lower landings that house thedormitories.By the time I was sentenced I already ownedmy own flat in a fashionable area of the Smoke so itcame as something of a shock to learn that for thenext four years I would be forced to share my new

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixondigs with eleven other inmates. The dorms offeralmost no privacy, just six beds lined up on eithersides of the austere room. Unlike the upstairs study’swe were not allowed to hang pictures or show offpersonal effects. Even during the period I spent inreform school I enjoyed better accommodations.Nonetheless, in hindsight we had a lot of funand we got over our inhibitions. The dorms were ahot-bed of plotting, planning, conniving andmalfeasance.The rules regarding silence after lockdown arestrictly imposed. That didn’t stop us. We routinelyengaged in games of ‘Dare’ and played cat andmouse with the Dorm Raiders. The stakes were high;if we were caught a caning was mandatory. Even fora pain junkie like me, getting six stripes under yourjimjams last thing at night is not particularlyconducive to a good night’s shut-eye. Of course weare Woody Gals and we did not let the threat of six ofthe best divert us from the joys of minxing. Duringthose years of co-habituating in the dorms I wasprobably caned a dozen times and my record was notconsidered particularly noteworthy. Sweet and painfulmemories.

13Fresh from a WhoppingI cross the quad and go over to the cafeteria inpursuit of more java. The café is crowded with theboisterous sounds of the inmates hanging outgabbing and chowing down on the brunch that CassieCassy and her crew have prepared. In general atweekends the inmates are cut plenty of slack and theonly rules in the cafeteria are no excessive anddangerous horseplay and strictly no food fights.A few weeks ago I was on duty when the Bondtwins started lobbing food about as if they werechimpanzee’s at a shit-throwing tea-party andpandemonium ensued. It took some considerabletime for me and Deborah to restore order andresulted in a mass beating. Hopefully we won’t have arepeat of that incident today.I go over to the coffee station and score someespresso. I am filling my cup when Melanie White andClaire Brooks come over. They are both dressed in fullclobber and I can tell instantly that they are bothfresh from a whopping.

A Life in the Day of Nixdown NixonClaire and Melons have officially finished theirsentences and are enrolled in the Old Gal program.Generally they are afforded the privilege of dressingin civilian clothes unless they have managed to earnthemselves whops. It is not just the clobber that’s agiveaway, as they approach the station they bothhave their hands stuffed into their blazer pockets.This is standard Woody procedure to avoid thetemptation of engaging in the cardinal sin of publicrubbing.“How’s it going?” I greet them. I would not beso crass as to demand details of the miss-adventuresof their bumbags unless they are volunteered.However between you, me and the garden post Idoubt that I will be left wondering for too long.Melons reaches over for a mug. “We’ve justbeen soundly beaten,” she informs me.Now I grant you that in some walks of life thatthis response might be considered a tad queer but atWoodys we talk about whops twenty-four-seven,which is hardly surprising considering that is more orless the timetable that whops are on the menuaround this joint.“Very soundly,” agrees Claire as she starts topour coffee. “He’s got a new cane and we were hisguinea pigs. It’s a fucking killer.”“I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell them.Melanie rolled her eyes at me. “No you’re notNix, you are chomping at the bit to hear the gorydetails.”“We were late back for curfew,” explainsClaire.

55I remember that Ginger had told me that shegot six on the silks from Melons last night.“Weren’t you on duty?” I ask Melanie.“I was,” she explained. “I’d just come off shiftand was about to turn in when Claire called me fromGabriels. She had some stud-muffin on the hook andneeded someone to distract his buddy so I went overfor a cocktail or three. Somehow we misscommunicatedand neither of us phoned Ellen and thenext thing we knew we were due for a whopping. Puta bit of a wet squib on the evening.”“Put a wet squib on a lot of things,” sighedClaire. “I’m supposed to ride point this afternoon andthe prospect of sitting my arse in a saddle is not veryattractive.”I giggle. “You’ve got an arse like leather sis,” Itease her, “how many times have I seen you go overyour Ma’s knee and then get right back in the saddleand win a major event?”Claire blushes slightly and mutters somethinginaudible, but she can’t deny that I’m right. WatchingClaire being spanked was a common occurrence whenwe riding on the circuit and her Ma didn’t believe inlittle paddy whacking’s. When she put Claire over herknee she meant business. It was fascinating stuff.“Is Rosemary around?” asks Melons.I nod. “She’s probably upstairs swappingcyber-spit with the Foxy-one,” I tell them. “Mind if Itag along and inspect the damage?”I watch as Melanie spreads herself out acrossRosemary Booker’s lap. Rosie folds back the hem ofMelanie’s skirt and then, very carefully, rolls down her

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonbumbags. It is clear that Claire wasn’t exaggeratingwhen she said that the Grand Master’s new cane wasa killer, the stripes on display are extremely ripe.Once again I admit that in some strata’s ofsociety the concept of being bent over a lap withone’s bumbags around one’s ankles so that yourchums can perform inspection might seem a littlepeculiar; but of course at Woodys it is an every-dayevent.Melanie is a physical phenomenon. She is evenshorter that I am but she is gifted with the mostextraordinary beautiful pair of breasts. Before Istarted to go steady with Penny Ann I seducedMelons a time or two. She is not actually that wayinclined but when you are locked up for threequartersof the year boredom sets in. Besides whocould resist the charms of Yours Truly?In contrast to her front view her bottom isreally quite under-sized so it is a tribute to the GrandMaster’s skill with a cane that every stroke wascontained within the safe zone we call the sweet spot.Rosemary dips her fingers into a pot andgreases them. She expertly runs the tips of herfingers along the stripes. She explains that her latestpotion is comprised of aloe vera and mint and anobscure herb that she had managed to secure,doubtless with the help of the Bounder.Melanie wriggles and squirms. “Whoa, thatstings,” she mutters.“Give it a few seconds,” Rosemary reassuresher, “that sting will turn into a tingle and then it willcompletely cool you down.”

57“I wish it would hurry up,” grunts Melons, andthen my cell-phone rang.

14The Troublesome TwinsI race down the stairs and out into the quad. Anumber of inmates have congregated and formed acircle. I shoulder my way through. Two gals arestanding with their hands on their heads glaring ateach other under the supervision of Charlie Barberwho is a member of the Elite. The two gals areindistinguishable from each other, they are identicaltwins.Veronica and Regina Bond are notorious fortheir sibling rivalry and their often acrimoniousdisagreements. Despite having their hands on theirheads there are clear signs of hostility on their faces.Charlie walks over to meet me. “I was on myway to the Wellness Center when I happened uponthese two. Ronnie pulled Reggie’s hair and Reggiehacked Ronnie in the shins. They would havescratched each other’s eyes out if I hadn’t managedto get in between them,” she explained.

59Charlotte Barber is a very good thing and assound as a trout. She doesn’t make unnecessarytrouble for anybody.“Thanks Charlie,” I sigh. “I’ll take it from here.”I walk over to the twins and reach into myblazer pocket. This is a part of my job that I detest.The protocols require me to formally red card them,so I palm the card and try to do it with as little dramaas possible.“Come along,” I tell them, “Let’s get you up tothe library. I’ll contact Miss Morton and she’ll be alongto beat you at her earliest convenience. Now let’s besensible, I don’t want any pushing, prodding orpoking on the way or I will be obliged to take you upbefore the Grand Master. Now lower your arms andcut along sharpish. I’ll be right behind you.”I pull out my smartphone and speed-dial Debs.Derby answers the call.“This is Miss Morton’s assistant, how my I helpyou?” she says in her refined aristocratic accent.“Derby, you know who it is for gawds sake,there is no need for this formality, where’s Debs?” Itry not to sound too snappy. Lady Huntington haswritten her own script and dances to her owndrummer and who am I to criticize?“Miss Morton is in the shower,” respondsDerby, apparently oblivious to my terseness. “Do yourequire her to mobilize to the library?”There is little doubt in my mind that if shewasn’t banged up in Woodys that she would be aninmate at the Home for the Bewildered. She iscertifiably barking.

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixon“Yes Derby,” I say as patiently as possible.“Please ask her to mobilize to the library. The Bondtwins will be waiting for her.”“I shall inform Miss Morton and you can advisethe twins that she will be along to take care of themwithin the next thirty minutes,” she replies.“Thank you Derby,” I say wearily and set off inpursuit of the twins.It is really quite extraordinary, if you walkbehind the twins it is as if they have been cut fromthe same mould. They are exactly the same heightand have the same physique, even their hair is thesame length to the millimeter. They keep stride witheach other as we traverse the corridors and stairwellsto the landing that hosts the library without everlooking at each other, but somehow it is hard not toget the impression that they are communicating.Quite eerie, when you come to think about it.Deborah calls me back. “What was it this time,scrapping again?”“Yeah, who knows what about. Charlotte saidthey refused to comment. I suppose it doesn’t matterreally,” I tell my chum.“Well I need to dry my hair and get dressed,tell them that I’ll be along to beat them as soon aspossible,” she tells me.I arrange the twins on either side of thehallway so that they don’t succumb to the temptationof getting into another scrap. They both know theform. They raise their arms and inter-link their hands

61on top of their heads and crane their necks slightly sothat they can touch the tips of their noses against thepaneling of the wood-paneling. Normally I wouldleave them unattended but I don’t want poor Debs toarrive and have to deal with the aftermath of a catfight.I lean back against the wall and cross my armsacross my chest. With nothing better to do I playbackthe many delicious moments of last night when Iwas laying face downwards across Penelope Ann’s laphaving the temperature of my bum adjusted with ariding crop. Sweet, sweet memories.

15A Spanking for RosiePenny Ann gave me a thorough whipping,which is of course what I wanted. Over the space ofseveral hours I took four trips over Pen’s kneeincluding the initial hand-spanking. I have a healthylevel of pain-tolerance and like my chum Claire yearsin the saddle has probably worked to my advantageand toughened up my bum considerably. These are ofcourse useful attributes when you are planning anight of extended benders.I am still reveling in my warm memories whenI hear the click of heels in the corridor below. Iassume that it is Deborah making her way up to thelanding to cane the twins.The library is in a secluded wing of the mainbuilding and the click of Debs heels echo in the emptyhallways. The twins continue to face the wall withtheir noses pressed to the woodwork. Howevertempting they are both aware that they must notmove until they are given the release command. Thenose and toes protocols are very specific; their noses

63must never leave the varnished paneling and nomatter how leaden their arms become their elbowsmust never make contact with the wall.It takes several minutes for Debs to mount thefour flights of stairs and make her way up to thelanding. Her footsteps are getting louder as shemakes her final approach.Over the years I have spent more time than Iwish to recall outside the library waiting to be caned.No matter how whop-hardened you become it isimpossible not to begin to get nervous as theunpleasant conclusion to your wait approaches.Debs is smartly dressed in her Elite clobber andeven her collar and tie are neatly fastened. It is a farcry from the old Debs who often used to resemble anunmade bed.“Have you asked them whether they wish toappeal?” she asks me.“They have declined to appeal and do not wishto talk about the incident,” I tell Debs, “they say it isprivate business and they just want to be whopped assoon as possible so that they can get on with theirday.”“Very well,” she says. “Thank you Nix, I’ll takeit from here,” and then addressing the twins she tellsthem to lower their arms and to proceed to thepunishment room.I must confess that I admire the brisk andunemotional way that Deborah conducts her businessin these situations.

A Life in the Day of Nixdown NixonIn her daily life Debs can be mercurial which ofcourse makes her erratic and unpredictable and shecan sometimes be downright grating on the nerves.However when she is on duty as the EliteDisciplinarian she is level-headed and courteous, sheputs her game face on and gets on with business. Isuppose she learned that from her years as aprofessional sportswoman, but it is certainly anadmirable quality.I feel a pang of sympathy for the twins as theytrudge through the heavy doorway to the library andthe austere room at the back that is used exclusivelyfor the business of whops. Of course as we are bothmembers of the Elite I have never been caned byDeborah. She gets astonishing ratings on the GalGabweb-site for technical merit, artistic quality and forthe all-important heat factor. I have tried to coerceher to come down to the stables so that I can sampleher wares but she always turns the suggestion into ajoke and changes the subject. However, I amrelentless in such matters and do not care for beingrefused. I shall eventually prevail.The door closes with a dull thud so my duty isdone. I decide to go back to the cafeteria.The cafeteria is surprisingly quiet, everybodyhas stopped chattering and I immediately discoverwhy. The sounds emanating from behind the plasticcurtains of the kitchen are unmistakable. Some poorsoul is over Dotty Hammell’s knee getting a damngood spanking. The gals in the main room areexchanging knowing glances but keep silent out ofrespect.

65Within minutes Rosemary totters out from thekitchen area. Her pretty moon-face is flushed and shelooks slightly shell-shocked. She is dressed in anelectric pink chef’s blouson, black cargo baggies and amatching beanie.“I hate that fucking spatula,” she mutters.“Let me guess, you were late for kitchen dutybecause you were on-line gabbing with the Foxyone,”I observe.She just nods and wriggles over to a tray fullof used beakers that need to be put in the dishwasher.Dotty Hammell is the Dame in Charge ofGastronomic Affairs. She is an absolute dote and veryminx-friendly. However the one thing that she will nottolerate is tardy-timekeeping.Rosemary is one of the most disorganized galsthat I have ever met and her inability to maintainschedules has played merry hell with her bumbags inthe past. Her natural inclination for leaving things tothe last minute has not been improved by the addeddistraction of her on-line affair with her cyber-lothariowho operates under the nickname of the Silver Fox.Rosemary wriggles back towards the kitchencarrying her load. I have no doubt that she is inconsiderable discomfort. The wooden spatula wasfirst introduced during Wooden Saturday during theGreat Spank-off and proved to be the Achilles heel ofsome of the Unit’s most whop-hardened veterans.The broad flat head packs an incredible amount ofsmart and sting.

A Life in the Day of Nixdown NixonI had the misfortune of going over Dotty’sknee last year and I can assure you that the spatulais a lethal weapon in the punishment arena, but thatis not to say it should excluded from consideration forrecreational purposes.

16She Whops Very HardI grab an apple and decide to go over and visitPen. As I said earlier being Duty Monitor can be quitetedious and involves a lot of mooching about.When the Old Gal program was introduced MrHumphries took two tithe barns and renovated theminto small but quite sumptuous apartments. Pen’s ison the ground floor and I punch the pass code ontothe number pad and go inside.Pen is showered and dressed. She is wearing ablack turtle neck sweater, cream jodhpurs and kneelengthriding boots. She comes over and gives me ahug and a kiss.“How’s it going?” she asks.“Well, Ginger, Melons, Claire and the BondTwins have all been caned and Rosie just got spankedby Dotty and it’s not even midday,” I sigh.She chuckles. “Well Saturdays were alwaysbusy. I can’t tell you how many Saturday nights I washauled up to Patty’s office to have my face chewedoff for allowing the unit to fall into disrepute. Stupidfawkin’ be-yotch.”

A Life in the Day of Nixdown NixonPenny Ann had the misfortune of being electedRed-shirt during a dark period in Woody historyknown as Operation Scorched Arse. Poor Pen, shewas the last person who wanted the job but theprevailing politics of the time left her with noalternative other than to accept the commission. Shehad a dreadful time of it trying to curb the heinousactivities of Patty’s sponsored goons from the SecretSorority of Serial Spankers, aka, the SS.Pen picks up a riding hat, leather gloves andher crop. I envy her. There is nothing moreinvigorating than a long hard ride across the Downsafter a week in the lecture rooms.As we are leaving the apartment we happenupon Claire coming down the stairs. She is alsodressed for the ride.“So you’re going to risk putting you bum in thesaddle,” I giggle.She grimaces a little. “I am still absolutelysizzling,” she groans, “but if I let a sore arse get inmy way I’d never get anything done.”Spoken like a true Woody gal.I watch Pen and Claire’s retreating backs asthey head towards the stables and return to myrounds.Across the quad I see Ronnie and Reggiecoming out the main building. Surprisingly they arearm in arm.I amble over to meet them.“How was it?” I ask.“She whops …” started Ronnie.

69“Very hard,” finished Reggie.I am fond of the Twins. They used to play in afairly successful retro-mod band. Ronnie was the frontwoman and Reggie played drums. Ronnie had a hugefollowing, despite being quite petite she has a hugepair of lungs and an incredible vocal range. She usedto dress in these beautiful tailored tonic mohair suitswith tab collared shirts and skinny ties, and wear herhair in a bee-hive. The music pundits had themdestined for glory but they had a minor problem.Their fans were extremely enthusiastic and weremuch given to trashing the joints that they played in.The Dark Agents smelled some easy prey and shortlythe Twins were exchanging mohair suits for Woodyclobber.“The closer was,” said Ronnie.“A real killer,” finished Reggie.It can be quite bewildering conversing with thetwins. The only way to tell them apart is by the ‘R’and ‘V’ on the bibs of their gymslips, and even thatcan be misleading. They like to fuck with the heads ofthe Brass by swapping clothes so half the timenobody is quite sure who they are actually scolding orthrashing. It is quite bizarre.“We’re going to,” said Ronnie.“Try to walk them off,” said Reggie.“Good luck with that I tell them,” and leavethem to go about their business.It is turning into a pretty day and the quad andrecreation areas are beginning to fill up with groupsplaying bridge, poker and backgammon. I go back up

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonthe flight of steps to the balcony that will give me thebest vantage point.Debs comes up and joins me, she has changedinto her tennis gear and is carrying several racquets.“I’m going to knock up for an hour withRachel,” she tells me. “Hopefully you won’t beneeding my services.”“Ronnie and Reggie said you did a good job,” Itell her.She flushes slightly. Despite being very good ather job I think she is still getting used to being at theend of the cane that she is not quite as familiar with.When I first met her she was always talking abouthow many times that she got caned at school. Ofcourse, I thought she was blowing smoke as Deborahis not averse to embellishment on a grand scale.However when her shocking record as the mostcaned pupil in the nation’s history was made public atthe Tribunal, I was forced to concede that herbumbags have seen some very serious action.“I didn’t give them anything special,” she saysa tad defensively.“Why don’t you come to the stables tonightand give me something special,” I tease her.She rolls her eyes. “You really are barkingaren’t you Nix,” she laughs and starts off down thestairs.“Why not?” I call after her. “You cane Spankyand Christy. Why not me?”She stops momentarily and looks back at me.“That’s different,” she says and hurries on her way.

17Spanky, Christy and CedricSpeak of the devil. A flame red Ferrari isapproaching along the tree-lined driveway. The carbelongs to Miss Spanky Botts and she will doubtlessbe accompanied by Christy Cranfield. Now I haveoccasionally been accused of being barking but I canassure you that I’ve got nothing on these two, theyare both completely certifiable.Before he sadly passed away Spanky was themuse and lover of the artist William Graham. Shegained considerable notoriety for her habit of bendingover the balustrade of their Venetian palazzo so shecould be publicly caned by her lover. She even gothonorable mentions as a tourist attraction in severalalternative guide-books. I am personally quite partialto a little risqué exhibitionism but even by mystandards that seems a little extreme.Christy Cranfield was a successful bankerbefore she chucked the towel in and became a fulltimeWoodette.They are two of my favorite people.

A Life in the Day of Nixdown NixonI go down the steps and walk across the quadto greet them. They both avail of the services of myclobber consultant and are immaculately attired inWoody Clobber, Spanky is small and elfin and even ifyou didn’t know her you would suspect that she is areal minx. By contrast Christy is tall and elegant andcould doubtless make a career as a super-model ifshe was so inclined.We exchange hugs and the Spanky reachesback into the car and extracts an animal transporter.“We’re flying directly to Zurich when we leavehere on Monday. Christy has been invited as guestdisciplinarian at a gala dinner of the Swiss WoodettesLeague. Unfortunately Cathy is hosting a spankinghappening in Finland, and Karen is looking after theCafé,” she says by way of explanation, “Jojo and theGrand Master said that they will look after Cedricwhile I’m away.”Cedric is an African Grey parrot and he talks alot. However, Cedric is not much given to making thenormal ‘pretty Polly’ type comments. His vocabulary isstrictly limited to making astute observations aboutspanking. I suppose that is hardly surprisingconsidering that he has been hand-reared by a diehardspankette like Spanky.Spanky Botts is a remarkable character and isresponsible for promoting what has become widelyknown as the Whops and Clobber zeitgeist. After thetribunal she established the www.woodettes.comweb-site and later opened Café Woodys, a wateringholedesigned specifically to satisfy the needs of theinternational spankette set. Christy Cranfield is her

73partner and the resident ‘Mistress of Discipline’.Christy is ideally suited for this line of work.She was the President of Posh, the equivalentof Headgal, at the notoriously strict QueensgateAcademy boarding school. Apparently she hadfrequent reason to cane Debs who was a pupil at theschool and Deborah says that she always caned veryhard.On several occasions Christy has been kindenough to join Penny Ann and I in the stables so thatwe could sample her wares and I can assure you thatfor once Deborah was not exaggerating. ChristyCranfield is the mistress of the rod. Penny Ann is notquite as partial to having her bum whapped as I amand after an initial experimental six of the best shehas declined to allow her bum within six feet ofChristy’s cane.I, on the other hand, found the experiencedivinely delicious and might well feel inclined to availof Christy’s skills sometime over the weekend.I help Christy with their bags while Spankytakes Cedric over to the Grand Master’s quarterswhere they have installed a cage.Spanky and Christy pay serious quantities ofwedge for the privilege of staying at the unit.Ostensibly they are employed as IT consultants but inactuality they come here to get their kicks and tosavor the full Woody experience. I tell you, they areboth certifiably barking.As we cross the quad wheeling the cases theconversation turns to whops and I inform her that

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonhalf a dozen gals had already been whopped and itwas only just lunch-time.She chuckled, “Weekend madness. It’s thesame everywhere. Back at Queensgate Monday wasalways my busy day as the gals weren’t whopped atweekends. One Monday evening I had to pop a dozengals,” she recalled.“I bet Debs was one of them,” I comment.She shook her head. “No during my term Debswas always thrashed last thing on Friday nights, butthe Bounder was amongst them and if I recallcorrectly I had to give her the max. Poor love.”“How did she take it?” I ask.Christy chuckled again. “You know the Boundershe curled her lip at me contemptuously and madeout it didn’t hurt. But in private she would always tellme when I had got her good.”“Were you chums?” I ask.“Well not really chums, she wasn’t with us formore than a few months before she was called uponto appear at her father’s trial and after that she wassent to reform school,” she replied. “I didn’t see heragain until she was in the stand at the tribunal.”We go into the Old Gals quarters and drag thesuitcases up to the top floor.“So guest disciplinarian huh?” I grin. “Well ifyou need some target practice I’m always available.”Christy giggles. “I’m sure that I couldaccommodate you,” she tells me. “When’s a goodtime.”“Any time is a good time but it’s probably bestto wait until tomorrow, I’m too busy today playingDuty Monitor for having any fun before the feast.”

18Divinely BonkersI take another quick spin around the campusto check for signs of mischief or malfeasance. Therecreation area is quite crowded with groups of galsplaying, poker, whist, gin rummy and backgammon.Bernadette and Lisa are mingling. Every now andagain Bernadette would reach under her skirt andextract a sheaf of bank-notes and make her pay-outs.Lisa religiously recorded each transaction on hersmart-phone.I decide to go upstairs and change my blouse.As I enter the Elite landing I can hear Lady Derbyberating Yvonne and Janet for sub-standard grubbing.I can also hear Yvonne arguing petulantly. FinallyDerby runs out of patience.“If you would prefer I can write you up forslacking and Miss Morton will take you up to thelibrary for six when she comes back from training,”she snaps.“Noooooooooooo!!!” I hear Mitch the Bitchwail. What a muff.

77Janet Mitchell is an odious and spinelesscreature. For years she was Yvonne’s lieutenant in theConfederacy of Yoofs and when they were inmatesshe was in charge of dirty ops. She generally madesure she was in the company of her enforcers Ivanthe Terrible and Spanker Spage when she got up toher nefarious activities.One time a few years ago I caught her out andabout on her own trying to strong-arm protectionmoney out of one of the grubbies. I intervened andJanet tried to get haughty with me so I biffed her onthe snooter, which took her by surprise as she is quitea lot taller than me. She boo-hooed like a baby.As a result of this little altercation we wereboth sentenced to be publicly flogged. Now I have totell you a public flogging is tough duty but we areWoody gals and we are expected to accept our fatewith a certain degree of stoic pride. Clearly Janetnever got the email. In Ms Lawton’s office she made acomplete ass of herself weeping and pleading andputting all the blame on me.Now Ms Lawton was a wily bird and she washaving none of it. She knew that I only went into thehooter bopping business with good reason. She toldJanet to quit with the waterworks and when Mitch theBitch continued to blub the Grand Dame put her overher knee and gave her something to blub about.It was even worse in the hall. We weresentenced to nine strokes each. I went first. MsLawton was an expert with a cane and she whoppedthe piss out of me. Now this might have been ratherpleasant under different circumstances, a damned

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixongood flogging mixed up with a little exhibitionism,what more could a gal ask for? But as I haveemphasized earlier Nixdown does not like having mybum whapped under such circumstances so I wasfeeling extremely grumpy. My disposition was notgreatly helped by Mitch the Bitch standing theresobbing and muttering pleas and generally distractingme from getting into the zone. It was all most fuckingdisagreeable.Ms Lawton really did a number on me and bythe time I unfolded myself from over the vaultinghorse steam was coming off my whopping bags and Iwas even grumpier than before.Nonetheless I could not help grinning whenJanet was finally persuaded over the horse. MsLawton had to threaten her with the ultimate indignityof being held down by several members of the Elitebefore she could get Janet into position and then thefun started. The brouhaha was unbelievable. For a galwho would later show such enormous elation atsetting off fire-crackers inside the inmate’s bumbagsshe sure didn’t care much for being on the receivingend.I can’t resist poking my head around the door.“Is everything okay?” I ask idly.Derby snorts. “I can’t believe these two fools,they can’t do anything without me peering over theirshoulder.”Yvonne glowers at her hatefully. Janetpretends to be busy dusting a counter-top.

79I grin. “Looks like you have them undercontrol,” I tell her. “I just stopped by to freshen upand change my blouse.”“Would you like some assistance Ma’am?” sheasks keenly. “Why don’t you touch up your make-upwhile I lay out a new blouse for you and then I canbrush your hair?”I do my best to suppress a smile. Lady DerbyHuntington is a very queer fish and has more than afew bats loose in the belfry. I have never seenanybody so committed to the fine art of grubbing.When she arrived at Woodys nobody knew what toexpect. She was the ‘It’ gal of the Ladette party sceneand has been in the news since her mother gave birthjust minutes after her father had just won the Derby.Her chaps are incredibly wealthy and they boast thelargest staff of butlers, footmen and maids in thenation.I suppose we expected a spoiled brat butnothing could be further from the truth. She is justsimply divinely bonkers. And by the way this is ayoung lady who really enjoys whops, and I meanREALLY enjoys them.

19The Best Grubby in the UniverseI go next door and go to the bathroom to fixmy make-up. There is no way of persuading LadyDerby that I am perfectly capable of taking a blouseoff a hanger and putting it on. She follows me into mystudy and I can hear her rummaging about in mycloset.Momentarily I hear Rosemary’s voice enquiringwhether I am around. I touch up my mascara and goback to the living room. Rosemary is holding a fag inher right hand and a pot of mystical balm in her left.“I’m on a short smoke break,” she says tightly.“And you’d like me to dampen down the smokebillowing out of your baggies?” I laugh.She thrusts the pot in my direction. “Hurry up,I don’t have long and I don’t fancy another trip acrossDotty’s knee,” she says tightly.I take the pot and go and sit down on a beanbag.She pushes her baggies down around her kneesand plonks herself face down across my lap.I gently ease down her navy blue bumbagsand dig into the pot. Over the years I have tended to

81Rosemary’s bum on numerous occasions but it is stillalways a thrill to witness the Eighth Wonder of theWorld up close and personal.I did not know Rosemary before she was sentto Woodys, she was never a part of the Ladette scenebut I knew of her. She was a favorite on the chatshow circuit rambling on about alternative medicineand obscure cult philosophies. I doubt anybody couldreally understand her theories on life in general butthey tuned in to cop an eyeful of her famous bum.She had a sponsorship deal with a jeansmanufacturer and would bend over for the camerasand display her shapely rear end encased indistressed denim with ‘Booker’s Bum’ embroideredacross the seat. She was an instant millionairess, butshe fell foul of the System when she told a radiointerviewer that she thought that the Anti-Ladettelaws were ‘just plain daft’. The Dark Agents do nottake criticism well and she was soon being kitted outfor clobber. Later, she would learn that MaliciousForsham-Smythe had engineered her arrest in orderto steal her company at private auction for a fewpennies on the squid.Rosemary’s bum is still throbbing; beingspanked with a wooden spatula will do that for a gal.I work fast, rubbing the soothing balm into theswollen mounds.Lady Derby peers down at the red bottom.“Wow that must have really smarted,” she gushesenthusiastically, “Way kewl.”I suspect that Rosemary does not share thisopinion and thrusts her buttocks up to encourage meto get on with the job at hand.

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixon“Should I fix you a martini, Ma’am?” she asksRosemary.“I’d die for one,” grunts Rosemary, “but I’dbetter not. If I’m late Dotty will roast me.”She pushed herself up from my lap and pulledup her bumbags and chef’s baggies. “Thanks Nix,”she mutters and wriggles hurriedly out of the room.I take off my tie and unbutton my blouse.Derby automatically picks up the fresh garment andholds it out for me.“Ms Hammell has never spanked me,” she saysthoughtfully.I chuckle. “Of course she hasn’t, you’re thebest grubby in the universe and I’m sure that you’rejust as diligent when you’re on kitchen duty.”Derby scowls. “Maybe I’m too diligent for myown good,” she says darkly. “Miss Morton never dustsme. Three months I’ve been in her service and shehasn’t dusted me once since my training spankings.”“Well that’s not completely true Derby,” I tellher. “I’m sure she’ll cane you tonight after the feast.”“I know, that’s a lot of fun and very wonderfulof course but it’s still not the same as a full-ondusting for being naughty,” she says earnestly.“Perhaps you could have a word in her and Dotty’sshell-likes.”“I’ll see what I can do,” I promised.Derby ceased scowling and smiled. “Would youlike a fresh neck-tie Ma’am,” she asked, “and maybeyou would like a martini?”I must confess that I am generally ratherpartial to a Saturday lunch-time martini but I

83shouldn’t really when I’m on duty so I decline Derby’skind offer. There will be plenty of time to have a fewscoops later this evening at the feast in the GreatHall.Derby busies herself knotting my tie with hernimble fingers, she really is quite astonishing and itdoesn’t surprise me that Deborah never finds anyreason to put her over her knee.Of course life for the grubbies has radicallychanged since the dark ages when we were nothingbetter than unpaid serfs and sporting spanking wasall the rage. Even the more liberal red-shirts turned ablind eye to grubbies taking a trip over their Draper’sknee just for shits and giggles.Penny Ann tried to bring in some reforms butshe was faced with the twin problems of OperationScorched Arse being in full swing and having to try tocontrol Yvonne Godfrey and her heinous SecretSorority of Serial Spankers.Then along came Lady Victoria, the patronsaint of grubbies, who outlawed sporting spanking,collaring and sweating and was willing to enforce herwill by putting wayward members of the Elite over herknee and walloping them with her trusty hairbrush.Deborah has promised that if she is officially madeRed-shirt that she will continue Victoria’s legacy. All inall life for the new generation of grubbies ain’t tooshabby.Derby finishes fussing over me and starts to goback next door to monitor Yvonne and Bitchypoo’sprogress. She turns at the door.

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixon“You will remember to have a word with MissMorton, won’t you?” she says earnestly. As I say shehas a few bats loose in the belfry.

20I Suppose I’m on for a Bender?The recreation area is buzzing with activity butthankfully everything seems relatively peaceful. Ihappen upon Melons in the cloisters. She has herhands stuffed deep into the pockets of her blazer; Iask her how the recovery is coming along.“I’m still fucking sizzling,” she groans. “Ihaven’t been whopped for quite some time so I guessmy bum is out of condition. Funny how that works,but I guess you wouldn’t know about that would youMiss Nixdown,” she giggles.Me and Melons used to scene together backbefore I started to go steady with Pen. She doesn’tusually swing but she couldn’t resist my wily charms.We had a lot of fun. If Rosemary’s bum is the eighthwonder of the world then Melanie’s breasts are theninth and she is considered to be a tourist attractionfor the local lothario’s. She also has an extraordinaryright arm and gave me some of the most exquisitecanings I have ever had the pleasure of enjoying.Melons was Cat Cassidy’s running mate back inthe glory days of the Extreme Ladettes and was

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonalways in the gossip pages of the skank-rags. She is anatural born minx and helped Cat found the Cult ofMega-minxdom. I have witnessed her being publiclyflogged on several occasions and she is as tough asnails, so if she is having difficulty getting over theafter-effects it must have been a damn fine thrashing.“It’s a shame that you don’t play away fromhome any more Nixxy or else I’d invite you up to thePunishment Room and cut your bumbags to tatters totake my mind off my own poor beleaguered bum,”she smiles.I feel my spine tingle momentarily. The idea isabsolutely delicious but I might have some difficultyexplaining to Penny Ann how I had come by six hotstripes on my sitmedown so I err on the side ofcaution and gently choose to decline this verygenerous offer.Melanie wrinkles her pretty nose. “Spoilsport,”she grins. “You used to be so much fun.” But I knowshe is only teasing.Out of the corner of my eye I spot troublebrewing. Ali Stone is striding purposefully across therec area and she is loaded for bear. She is carrying ahigh-powered water squirter, and we are not talkingabout a puny little pistol, she has a frigging cannon inher hands.I dash out of the cloisters blowing my whistleand waving my arms. Lisa Sutton turns to see whatthe commotion is about and she immediately spots Alibarreling down on her. There is no time for evasiveaction and Ali ignores my whistling and waving. Sheputs a bead on Lisa and very calmly unleashes gallonsof water, soaking poor Lisa from head to toe. Lisa

87squeals as she is doused in what I can only assume isice-cold water.I reach for my red card.Ali finishes emptying her weapon and thenturns and looks at me. “I suppose I’m on for abender?” she says somewhat unnecessarily.“Damn right you’re on for a bender,” I tell her.“Now get upstairs to the library and I’ll try and roundsomeone up to beat you.”She just shrugs and hands me the watercannon. There is clearly a back-story to this incident.Ali Stone is a well-known prankster but I can onlyassume that this seemingly unprovoked publicsoaking is retaliation in some ongoing battle.Lisa looks like a drowned rat and is seething.“Anything you’d like to share with me?” I askher.“I’ll kill that be-yotch,” Lisa rants, “I’ll hang herup by the elastic of her bumbags.”“I’m afraid that will have to wait,” I tell her,“her bumbags are going to be otherwise engaged inthe foreseeable future.”Lisa scowls and hurries towards the mainbuilding to change out of her wet clobberI look at my watch. Victoria is still off campusat an interview with a local solicitor she is planning tointern with. Hopefully Debs has nearly finished hertraining session and can take care of the Ali business.I don’t like to leave gals waiting to be caned for toolong, fifteen to twenty minutes is considered the idealperiod for private rumination before a licking, but I

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonfancy that Miss Stone will have to wait a little longerthis afternoon before she gets to touch her toes.I am fond of Ali, she is a fun-loving cove whoonce worked with a troupe of circus clowns andmagicians and she knows some amazing sleight ofhand tricks. However, her water attack on Lisa hadmade no attempt at subtlety or deception and clearlyshe knew that the ambush was going to result inwhops. I can only assume that she feels that thesmall matter of a hot bottom was a price worthpaying for reaping her revenge in whatever runningfeud she was involved in with Lisa.When you are an inmate at Woodys it is notuncommon to have to consider such trades off’s. MsLawton used say that she ran a facility of no-surprisesand that we should always be aware of theconsequences of our actions. Considering that theonly punishment used at the facility is of the corporalvariety we know that when we engage in larking,goofing or pranking we run the risk of ending upbending over. Ali Stone knew the risks and knew theconsequences so even though I feel like a heel forred-carding her I know that there won’t be any hardfeelings.I locate a grubby and dispatch her to thetennis courts to inform Deborah that Miss Stone isoutside the library, waiting to be caned.

21An Outbreak of Extreme MinxingUnfortunately Ali Stone’s shenanigans had aripple effect and inspired an outbreak of extrememinxing. In the space of the next two hours I amforced to dish out three more red cards. PoorDeborah has spent the afternoon scurrying hither andthither between her study and the library. It seemslike she hardly has time to return from dealing withone set of reprobate bumbags before she has toturnaround and return to the library to deal with thenext pair.Debs is as fit as a butcher’s dog so there is nodanger of her right arm becoming tired but by thetime she returns from the library for the fourth time inthe space of two hours I can tell that is all becominga tad tiresome for her.She throws her cane on the desk in her studyand unfastens the buttons down the front of herblazer and tosses it to one side. She rips open thecollar of her blouse, loosens her tie, kicks off hershoes and slumps down in an armchair.

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixon“Give me a fag,” she mutters, “Sometimes Ihate this fucking job.”I give her a fag and light it for her; of courseshe doesn’t really smoke much due to her fitnessregime; just when she is royally pissed off.“I’ll just leave the paperwork with Derby”, Isuggest. “We can file it later.”Deborah just grunts.Lady Derby Huntington is as usual the epitomeof discretion, she has shooed Yvonne and Janet out ofthe study and dispatched them on some fool’s errandthat she has magically dreamed up. She manages toseem unobtrusive in the very small room as she waitsto see what she can do to help.Debs blows smoke out of her nostrils like adragon and stubs the barely smoked fag out. “I’m notblaming you, Nix,” she grunts.“Good job too, it was a righteous red-card,” Itell her.“I know, I know,” she mutters, “but poorJennifer. Not two hours ago she was running aboutthe tennis court picking up tennis balls for me andRachel and the next thing I know we’re in the librarywith her touching her toes and I’m whopping the pissout of her. Still she didn’t complain or appeal and I’msure it is all kosher.”This is one of the downsides of being amember of Lady Victoria’s Elite. We all support herpolicies of no favorites and no enemies unequivocallybut that means zero tolerance for cutting slack for ourchums.“I need to go back on duty,” I tell Debs. “I’llsee you at Callover unless I need your services

91before,” and back out of the door leaving herglowering darkly.I close the door behind me and nearly rundown Jojo.“How’s it going?” she asks.“Don’t ask,” I half chuckle. “The natives arerestless and Debs is in a snit because she’s having torun backwards and forwards to the library. We’ve hadan outbreak of Extreme Minxing.”Jojo giggles. “Oh those were the days.” Shegrins from ear-to-ear.“And you were generally the agentprovocateur,” I remind her.She just winks and goes into her study.Jojo was the first of the new generation ofmega-minxes. I had known her for years on the ridingcircuit and as I mentioned earlier we went intobusiness together. Jojo had attended a very liberalarts school which unlike the hell-holes I attended didnot practice corporal punishment. As far as I knowChez Heyworth was a spank-free zone. She enteredWoodys sporting a virgin arse. That did not last long.Of course she had gone through her inductiontraining spankings with her mentor but I don’t thinkthat quite prepared her for being upended andspanked by Ms Wharton in front of eleven relativestrangers. Well, ten if you exclude me.In the aftermath she seemed a littlebewildered. “Well that fucking sucked,” was all shewould say on the subject. However, it proved to bean ice-breaker and one of those great bonding

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonmoments. Twelve women suddenly stuck in aGovernment Institution and forced to sleep togetherin open-space dormitories and dress in uniforms. Wehad kept our distance from each other, eyeing eachother furtively and I know it sounds disgusting butsniffing around each other like suspicious feral cats.The System had not designed Woodys as a holidaycamp and many of the new inmates seemed to findthe place downright scary.That night in the dorm we started to gab.Some of the gals had been to boarding schools andseveral admitted that they had been caned but thevast majority had not. The only person who didn’t joinin the gab was Debs, who just listened attentively. Atthat time I treated her with great suspicion and,wrongly as it turned out, thought that she expectedpreferential treatment due to her huge celebrity.Debs did not open up until a week later aftershe had been unceremoniously yanked out of herchair by Madame Diderot, dragged up to the front ofthe room by her neck-tie, dumped over the FrenchDame’s lap and treated to an explosive dusting.Later that evening she would confide that shehad occasionally been caned at school. It was one ofthose rare moments of Debs making anunderstatement.Somewhere along the way Cat risked herbumbags by sneaking us a copy of her manifesto ofmega-minxdom. Jojo thought it was hilarious. She hasalways had a wicked sense of humor, her showsalways had some comedic undertones and even hersculptures contained small barely discernable jokes.

93She announced that she was joining the cult andHurricane Jojo was born. The rest is basically history.

22With One Bound a Gal was FreeThere is still an hour remaining before Calloverbut the gals have mainly gone up to their studies ordorms to freshen up. The lucky ones who are on theguest list for the Saturday Night feast will probably bebathing or showering and laying out freshly pressedclobber.I mooch about keeping a weather eye out forany further outbreaks of extreme minxing. I check thelogs. There are still a few gals off-campus with passesto go to town. I hope that they all have the goodsense to catch the last bus. I know from experiencethat it can really ruin a pleasant afternoon in townwhen you have to bend over to be caned by the DutyDame for being late back from curfew.I see Victoria climbing out of a cab. She isdressed in semi-clobber. She is wearing her black silkhacking jacket over her red shirt and black tie, withblack and white striped gaucho pants tucked into apair of beautifully hand-stitched bright red cowboyboots.

95She is a creature of great beauty, with lushblack hair that she always has pulled back under ared hair-band or tied with a bow. She has a bee-stungmouth which she paints bright red and long blackeyelashes. Back in the day I would have seduced herbut my relationship with Pen put her off-limits. Theclosest I got was to persuade her to dangle me in thedungeons of Brompton Castle.I amble over to greet her and enquire how herinterview had gone.“Fawkin’ awesome,” she told me. “The practiceonly has volunteers and they take on cases of punterswith no money. I’m going to intern with them at theweekends.”Despite her aristocratic breeding Victoria isacutely socially sensitive and plans to set up a legalpractice to defend the unfortunate and down-trodden.She is formidably wealthy so will be able to afford towork for free. I think her social liberalism comes fromher father, the delightful Lord Brompton, who ownsmany newspapers, TV and radio stations and isconsidered to be the country’s leading patricianliberal.“Debs will be pleased to see you,” I tell her,“she’s had to cane half a dozen gals already todayand I think she’s hoping for a breather.”Victoria rolls her eyes. “You’d think with all theprograms the Grand Master has put in place the galswould be to occupied to waste their time getting upto mischief,” she drawls.I suppress a grin. This is kind of rich comingfrom Victoria who was one of the all-time great Überminxesbefore she hung up her bumbags and became

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonthe Red-shirt. She is number three on the all-time BigBUTT just behind Jojo and Debs.“Let Debs know that I’m back on campus.” Shedrawls. “I’ll take over until Callover.”I nod and call Debs on her smart-phone. Debssounds greatly relieved at the news and told me shewas going to switch off her phone and take a shower.I am quite envious.Vix slips my arm in mine and she gives me allthe guff about her new job we cross the quad. Asusual she is hilarious as she eff’s and blind’s about theterrible iniquities of the social system in her totallyaristocratic drawl. She exudes such total selfconfidenceand power. I find myself wonderingwhether I could somehow persuade her to spank metonight.Thankfully the final hour before Callover isuneventful and all the gals with town-passes arriveback before lockdown.I amble over to the assembly hall whereCallover will take place. The rules regarding Calloverare considerably less onerous than those related tobehavior during morning assembly. A reasonableamount of gabbing is allowed but of course a noprodding, pinching, poking or tripping protocol isimposed.It is quite rare for gals to be red-carded out ofCallover so I am hopeful that the last few minutes onduty will go off smoothly.Victoria has changed into her short black skirtand she strides up the steps of the stage. Callover isbasically a formality. Mr Humphries explained to me

97that it is a requirement of the weekly paperwork thathas to be filed with the Dark Agents of the System.Vix briskly calls the names of every inmate andthey respond, “Here, Ma’am,” in bored voices. OnceVictoria is finished and the gals have filed out of thehall my duty assignment is completed.In one bound the gal was free.I hurry up to my study, keen to get showeredand changed in preparation for the Saturday Nightfeast in the Great Hall.Frankie is waiting for me and has a muchneeded martini already shaken and ready for pouring.I notice that she has laid out a complete new set ofclobber for me. She is a dote.I hang my cane up on the rack and gratefullytake the icy drink from Frankie. I kick off my shoesand hand her my blazer then slump back in an easychair.“What’s Cassie cooking tonight?” I ask her.Frankie just grins. “I’m sorry Nix but you knowshe’d kill me if I told you that in advance, but I cantell you it looks pretty scrummy.”I chuckle. Cassie Cassy keeps the menu’s forthe Saturday Night feasts more secret than the vaultsof the Pentagon.“I could spank it out of you,” I tease her.“That is always your prerogative Ma’am,” shesays with a twinkle in her eye. She knows that I donot mean it.She has been my grubby for just over threemonths and I have found the slightest reason to sendher Debs study to be draped.

A Life in the Day of Nixdown NixonI sip my drink and lean back. I will take a tenminute power nap before preparing for the feast.

23Mr HumphriesA brief nap can revitalize a gal and I awoke tothe sounds of giggling and chattering coming fromalong the landing. It’s always like this on Saturdaynight’s. At least, it has been for the past year, sinceMr Humphries astonished us with the first of thefeasts.During Ms Lawton’s era weekends were notmuch fun. We were left with a lot of free time on ourhands and nothing to do with it. There were a fewTV’s littered around the recreation areas but a verylimited selection of channels, the internet wasrestricted to the library and we were only allowedaccess to specific research areas, drinking andsmoking were strictly prohibited. We were bored andlikely to get up to mischief, which of course we did inspades.It was not that Ms Lawton is this radicallyaustere woman, or a cruel be-yotch like Patty Hodge.Since the Tribunal we have got to know her muchbetter. She is actually very charming, funny and quitewild in her own way. It was just that she felt that she

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonwas policing a unit that was on the constant brink ofanarchy, which is not an unfair assessment, andsomehow she had to maintain the upper hand. Shehas told us quite frankly, and she admitted it quitepublicly at the Tribunal, that Operation Scorched Arsewas a terrible error of judgment on her part and shehas apologized for the savage regime that we wereforced to endure. Actually, in hindsight OperationScorched Arse was a lot of fun. We had no choice butto openly confront the Radical Right and the SS headonand some of the confrontations were quitethrilling.Despite the many sore arses that we sufferedwe took on the bullies and we won.Since the arrival of Mr Humphries the wholeatmosphere of the community has changed. Althoughhe has maintained the strict disciplinary regime wherecorporal punishment is the only form of punishmentexercised he immediately closed down OperationScorched Arse. He empowered Lady Victoria to crushthe last remnants of the SS, which she did with theback of hairbrush. She outlawed collaring, sweating,sporting spanking and stamped out the widely abusedrubbishing protocols.Most importantly the Grand Master usurped thepower and authority wielded by Patty Hodgethroughout the Lawton era. Patty is basically a coldbloodedmanipulator and puppeteer. She isextraordinarily beautiful and charismatic and sheruthlessly seduces her marionettes into participatingin her malicious obsessions.

101I know all about her obsessions as I have beenone of her targets. I think that she has alwayshankered for a bit of Nixdown action but I wouldn’tsuccumb to her overtures even if my life dependedupon it. As a result I have spent many hot and sweatyminutes sprawled out over the huge desk in her officehaving my arse branded with her lethal wye-tippedcanes. She is a class-A be-yotch and unfortunatelyshe has also targeted poor Penny Ann which makesmy blood boil.Mr Humphries saw straight through Patty andwas immediately all over her and her cronies likebadly cut clobber. Apparently he doesn’t have anycompunction about meting out the same rough justiceon them as they are so fond of subjecting the inmatestoo. We saw a joyful demonstration of this when hehauled Katie Beck up on the stage and gave her adamn good spanking in front of the assembledcommunity for what he perceived as an over-zealousinterpretation of the Politics of Clobber.Rumors have abounded that he has taken hiscane to the arses of both Patty and the Wart but theyare unsubstantiated.But it was not only his overt contempt of Pattythat earned him our admiration and respect. When hefirst arrived he interviewed every member of thecommunity a great length. We expected him to grillus about our disciplinary records which in generalwere appalling, however, he never even mentionedthe subject. He seemed genuinely interested in ourlikes and dislikes and listened to our suggestions as tohow life at the unit might be improved. Despite mynatural born cynicism I was astonished when within

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixondays he announced that he had hired all third-partycontractors and that the facility would become selfsufficient.Shrewdly he started with the kitchen andappointed Dotty and Cassie Cassy to take overproviding a healthy, well balanced diet. After years ofbeing forced to eat the most unsavory gruelimaginable he won our hearts over by shootingstraight at our tummies. Smart move I alwaysthought.He encouraged us to set up special projectsand programs, installed a mega-wifi system andhanded out laptops and smart-phones and allowed uspretty unrestricted access to the net.He also managed to persuade all kinds ofartists, poets, film directors, writers and musicians tocome and speak at the unit. I have no idea how hefound these people or the budget to fund this NewWoody initiative but somehow he did.He also repealed the tobacco and alcoholprohibition as long as it did not interfere with theSystem’s requirement that we graduate each Phase ofour sentence with a minimum ‘C’ grade whichrequires a better than seventy grade point averageacross the myriad of subjects we study in thecurriculum.And, finally, he introduced the Saturday Nightfeasts in the Great Hall.

24Let the Entertainment BeginI take a shower and sit down in front of themirror to brush out my hair. Frankie comes into thebathroom and set down a champagne flute beside thebasin.“Courtesy of Jojo,” she says cheerily. “It’sVeuve de Clicquot, your favorite.”“Tell her thanks and that I’ll cut along to herstudy when I’m dressed.”“I’ll do that Nix, and then if you don’t requireanything else I’ll go downstairs and help Cassie.”“Cut along,” I grin and sip my drink.Cassie Cassy may be hare-brained and quitepossibly certifiably barking but she’s no mug. Onceshe saw Frankie, Derby and Michelle Morganperforming as grubbies she immediately requisitionedthem to work as her assistants on Saturday nights.I dry my hair and then go into the bedroom todress. Frankie has been selective about the clobbershe has laid out. Some of my best stuff. She haspicked one of the new blouses from Ho Chi Minh City,

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonand a silk and mohair skirt and blazer. The tie andsash are made from special silks that my ClobberConsultant tracked down in some Indian town calledKanchipuran. The factory she employs only uses wildcraftedsilks from hand-spun Tussal yarns. They areexquisite. If you are going to be forced to wearclobber you may as well wear the best clobberavailable. I fasten the sash around my waist and thenknot my tie in a half-Windsor. I shrug on my blazerand set off to track down Jojo.As usual her study is like Grand Central. Debsand Rosemary are lolling about in easy chairs drinkingbubbly. Cat, Christy and Spanky are hatching aboutmixing cocktails and the Bounder is holding courtregarding the loss of her blouse, her blazer and herbumbags during the past weeks betting.I shared a study with Jojo during Phase 5 and6 of our sentences. It was always the social pulse ofthe unit and played host to more plotting andscheming than your average Whitehall drinking den.Wonderful, wonderful days.At seven-thirty we repair to the Great Hall,slightly buzzed and full of excitement and speculationover what the next few hours hold in store.When we were first invited to the Great Hallover a year ago by the Grand Master we had no ideawhat to expect. A year later we are really none thewiser. We know the basic format of the evening butthe details are closely guarded secrets known only tothe inmates entrusted with the organization andpreparation. That is what makes Saturday night’s sothrilling.

105The guest list to the feasts is fairly limited andsurprisingly it is restricted to the unit’s foremostmega-minxes past and present.When the other inmates first learned of thefeasts they were quite miffed at being excluded butwhen they learned the potential consequences ofattendance they were almost universally relieved notto have been invited.The feasts are not for the faint-hearted.Before we enter the Great Hall we are eachhanded a small envelope that has been firmly lickedclosed. We know the form and place them in thebreast pockets of our blazers, where they will remainuntil the appointed time.We push open the doors and enter the hall andare instantly awed. Cassie and her team haveexcelled themselves.They have surrounded low, beautifully inlaidtables with stuffed floor pillows. Floral bouquets havebeen arranged around the hall. The scents ofcoriander, cumin, saffron, marjoram and onionmingled with the pungency of olive oil and thesweetness of sandalwood, mint and roses, areintoxicating.In the background trance music, which Frankieinforms me, is performed by the brotherhood ofGnawa Halwa on gumbris, kerkabs and tbels playinggently through the sound system.Cassie may have a reputation for being as daftas a brush but she certainly knows how to throw atheme party. It probably helps that she is best chumswith the Bounder, who in turn is the god-daughter of

A Life in the Day of Nixdown NixonStacks Monroe, the Smokes top fence, and a manwith a knack for providing anything required for anyoccasion.Frankie and Michelle showed us to ourcushions and then circulated with silver ewers,pouring perfumed water over our fingers, catchingthe drips in small basins and then drying them withTurkish hand towels. Lady Derby followed behindthem offering Bstilla, a crisp pastry rolled as thin astissue paper and filled with a chicken mixture theMarrakech locals describe as sweet and peppery,soft and violent. She poured a deliciously spicy redwine from the Guerrouane region of Morocco intoceramic goblets. It seemed like we were in for anexotic evening.For the entrée Cassie had prepared brochettesof chicken rubbed in ras el hanout, an aromaticcombination of twelve spices, accompanied bycouscous, batinjaan zalad and slices of watermelonserved with sprigs of fresh mint.She would have made a traditional MoroccanDada proud.We ate and gabbed, smoked and drank, havinga high old time in the wonderful atmosphere Cassieand her team had created.At nine o’clock exactly Mr Humphries tappedhis spoon against his goblet and called for silence.“Thirty minutes, ladies and then let theentertainment begin,” he said genially.We all knew what that meant.

25Red Arse, Black HeartWe go off to the bathrooms to freshen up andstraighten our clobber. The light-hearted ambiancechanges slightly, it is almost indiscernible but youcan’t help noticing some of the gals are smoking alittle more than usual or chattering rather lesscoherently than they had been when we were layingon the cushions around the low tables.I smile to myself, I can understand theirbuilding sense of apprehension, but this is my favoritepart of the evening.I brush my hair and check my clobber and thereturn to my cushion placed to the left of the GrandMaster. He appears quite unconcerned to be the onlymale in a hall filled with over twenty young women.He pours me a glass of the surprisingly delicious wineand offers me a Camel Turkish Royal from a silvercase.“How was your day, NJ?” he asks.“Busy, Sir,” I tell him. “The natives wererestless.”

A Life in the Day of Nixdown NixonMr Humphries is kind enough to invite Pen andI to join him and Jojo for dinner at Monets severaltimes a month. He is always polite, affable andinformal but it would never occur to me to addresshim in any way other than simply as Sir.He nods. “I noticed. Well we didn’t have anycomplaints or appeals, so it was a job well done,” hesays in a kindly term.Jojo returns to the table and slumps back intoher cushion to the right of her fiancé.“So what’s on the menu tonight card-sharp?”she giggles.“It’s a random process,” he smiles.“Random my arse,” she snorts.Mr Humphries expression doesn’t change buthe turns his head slightly and winks at her. I love towatch their dynamic.Slowly as the witching hour approaches thegals return to the tables and seat themselves on theircushions. I can see their eyes occasionally lookinganxiously at the clock, not that they would make itobvious, they all have their game faces on, but I amobservant about such things.It occurs to me that half a dozen of the gals inthe room have already experienced an arse warmingtoday so the idea of engaging in gratuitous whops forentertainment purposes might not be high on theagenda. I grin to myself and sip my wine. Let thecards do the talking.At nine-thirty precisely Mr Humphries instructsus to remove the envelopes from our breast pockets

109and inspect the contents. We know what to expect.The envelopes each contain three playing cards. Thequestion is what do they each represent. All aroundthe table the gals slit the envelopes and palm thecards secretly. I hear the click of many lighters andthe chink of bottles as they touch the rim of glassesas they pour more wine.The Grand Master waits a few minutes andthen produces a sealed envelope from his jacketpocket.“Here’s what we are playing tonight, Red Arseand Black Heart,” he drawls. “Diamonds match clubs,hearts match spades. Any questions?”We communally shake our heads.He nods. “Then we shall proceed.” He picks upa silver letter opener and opens the envelope in hishand. He extracts a card.“The stakes are high ladies,” he says coolly. “Atwelve spank dangling with the wood-backedhairbrush, to be delivered with bumbags lowered.”There is a gasp around the table.Entertainment spankings are generally delivered witha modicum of restraint but a twelve spank dangling isstill very tough duty.The Grand Master extracts a second card. Heturns it forward on the table-top. It is the Queen ofHearts.There is a momentary silence in the room andthen a scraping of chair-legs on the wooden floor. Wewatch as Lindsey Butcher rises to her feet. She doesnot look pleased.Mr Humphries extracts his last card from theenvelope. It is the Queen of Spades.

A Life in the Day of Nixdown NixonMomentarily identical Lindsey’s twin sister,Patsy, stands up. They stare across the table at eachother.“Lady Huntington, would you prepare thestage?” says Mr Humphries calmly.Derby grinned. “Pleased to, Sir.”She stood up and strode towards the stage.Despite her penchant for submission and grubbingshe is a confident cove, presumably from being borninto the manor born. She climbs the steps to thestage and she pulls on the sash cord and releases theheavy velvet curtains.The stage is mostly in darkness with theexception of a single spotlight beaming down on aspanking stool. I grin. I designed this particular setfor the Great Spank-off and we have been using itever since when the right dramatic effect is required.“Ladies, if you would be so kind,” says MrHumphries cheerfully.Lindsey glares across the table at her sisterand then turns on her heel and strides towards thestage. Patsy follows a slight grin on her face.Pen, who is draped in the cushion beside me,leans over and whispers in my ear. “This could getinteresting,” she snickers.“You think?” I giggle.A few weeks ago the cards dictated that theroles were reversed and Lindsey had given Patsy abum warming that was rather more severe thanusually practiced at the feasts. Patsy had beenseverely pissed off and had warned her sister that if

111she ever got the chance she would blister her bumuntil she couldn’t sit down for a week.Perhaps Jojo is right. Maybe the Grand Masterreally is a card-sharp.

26Sisterly LovePatsy stood aside and ushered her sister upthe steps to the stage. The twins are indistinguishablealthough Lindsey claims that she is half an inch taller.The twins are magnificent specimens, tall and athleticand both knock-down beautiful. Before I hooked upwith Penny Ann I engaged in the occasional ebonyand ivory ménage à trios with the twins and I canassure you that their sprinter’s bodies are somethingto behold.The twins were released from the unit fifteenmonths ago and moved into an apartment in town.They are training to be sports therapists. However,they never miss a Woody event or a feast.Patsy peels off her blazer and hands it to LadyDerby. Her crisp white blouse seems to have beenspray-painted over her skin and the muscles of herarms ripple beneath the material. She climbs up ontothe spanking stool.Lindsey stands beside her with her armscrossed over her chest. She is pouting slightly. She

113does not look in the least bit amused or enthusiasticabout what is about to transpire.Patsy by contrast looks radiant and rather selfamused.She instructs her sister to hand Derby herblazer so it can be hung up and then instructs hersister to get over and up.Due to the extended height of the stool gettingoneself over and up is not a particularly dignifiedaffair as it involves being assisted and makes you feellike you are being hoisted into position.Lindsey slithers her upper torso across Patsy’slap and somehow they manage to get her intoposition without too much fuss.The twins are five feet ten inches tall but evenso Lindsey still cannot touch the floor on either side ofthe stool with her hands or her feet, although herlong, beaded dreadlocks sweep onto the wood of thestage.Patsy carefully turns back the hem of hersister’s skirt in neat folds revealing what can only bedescribed as a magnificent protuberance. The navyblue gossamer material of Lindsey’s bumbags clingsto the lush, rounded orbs, following the contoursperfectly. Patsy pulls her sister into the crease of herlap and takes a tight hold around her waist with hermuscular left arm. She places her fingers in the elasticwaistband of Lindsey’s bumbags and rolls them down.Lady Derby steps forward and hands Patsy thelong handled, oval headed, wood-backed hairbrush.Patsy takes her time, slowly rubbing the headof the hairbrush over the defenseless nates. Finally

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonshe raises the brush in the air and brings it down witha crack that echoes around the hall.Flashback three weeks and the roles werereversed. Lindsey had surprised everybody in the hallwith the ferocity that she had spanked her sister, notthe least Patsy. Spankings at the feast are by nomeans paddy whacking’s but they are rarely deliveredwith the severity of a true formal punishmentspanking. Lindsey did not appear to have read theemail and proceeded to give her sister a blisteringspanking.What made this all the more unusual is thatunlike the Bond Twins who are always scrapping andseem embroiled in a love-hate relationship, Lindseyand Patsy are super-tight. They were always prettywell inseparable when they were inmates and rarelyhad cross words except over the outcome of theoccasional hand of cards.Nonetheless, Lindsey laid into her sister withconsiderable gusto and Patsy was kicking andpummeling the air in genuine agitation.Now I have some experience of having mybum whapped by the twins in both a formal andrecreational theater and I can assure you that theyare no duffers in the whops delivery department.There was no doubt that Patsy’s distress was genuineand when they left the stage they uncharacteristicallyignored each other.Flash forward to the here and now and Patsyappears determined to reap some revenge. Thewood-backed hairbrush is rebounding off Lindsey’squivering orbs with extreme prejudice.

115Penny Ann glances over at me and raises aneyebrow; she slips her hand into mine. Now nobodyexpects to play pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake when theyaccept an invitation to the feasts but the intensity ofPatsy’s retribution is quite awesome.After six resounding cracks of the brush Patsyshows no sign of slowing up, in fact she seems to bewarming to her work.Lindsey’s beaded braids rattle against thewooden floor as she shakes her head from side toside, and her long, athletic legs are scissoringhelplessly in the air. Lindsey Butcher is no muff andher spastic reactions are a good indication of theintense heat building up in her bottom.Patsy methodically works her way up the rightside of her sister’s bum and then back down the left.She finishes the session with a scalding strike and ifshe hadn’t had a tight grip around her sister’s waist Ithink Lindsey would have taken a tumble.Patsy calmly hands the brush to Derby andproceeds to reorganize her sister’s clobber beforehelping her to slide back into the vertical position.Lindsey’s face is a picture. She glares at hertwin and she looks quite giddy. Patsy just winks ather. Derby retrieves their blazers from the coat-standand hands them to them.There is an awed hush in the room untilCathryn Cassidy raises her glass and drawls, “Here’sto sisterly love.”We all giggle and raise our own glasses.“Sisterly love,” we chorus.

27A Dusting for DerbyNow admittedly in some walks of society thisform of after dinner entertainment might seem a littlequeer, but then again most walks of society have notlived at Woodys.After a brief moment of tension the twinsthrow out their arms and envelop each other in abear hug. One can only assume that Lindsey knewthat she had it coming and will not bear her sister anymalice for seeking revenge. They leave the stage armin arm and return to their cushions side by side.Mr Humphries taps his goblet and produces asecond envelope.He announces the next stage of theentertainment. The cards dictate that this stage willinvolve an over-the-knee dusting with Lady Derby onthe receiving end and Debs doing the dusting.Derby looks like the cat that got the cream. AsI have said on several occasions I am of a cynicalnature and considering my earlier conversation withher Ladyship I cannot help but suspect that she has

117somehow engineered this pairing. I can tell thatDeborah shares my suspicions and does not lookparticularly happy.Derby walks around the table and leans overand whispers something in Deborah’s ear. Debs looksmomentarily quizzical and then mutters quite audibly,“Oh good fucking grief!”Debs clambers to her feet and then in adizzying display she takes us all by surprise.She spins Derby around, grabs her by the wristand pulls it up behind her back then grasps the scruffof Derby’s blouse and blazer, then begins to marchher very quickly towards the stairs.We cannot believe our eyes. Deborah hassecured Derby into what was known, back in the day,as the ‘Full Collar’. This heinous form of restraint wasoriginally introduced by Katie Beck and wasuniversally loathed.Katie encouraged her sycophantic followers tobellow ‘Collar that Gal’, and the foot-soldiers of the SSwas swoop down, secure their prey and haul them offto the library for the inevitable beating.I cannot believe Debs has collared Derby onher own volition. After all Deborah was subjected toone of the most notorious collarings when she wasparaded through the landings before being takendown to the gymnasium to be publicly beaten in frontof the assembled members of the house. Debs hasalways been a vocal advocate of the abolition ofcollaring. I can only suspect that when Derbywhispered in Debs ear she was requesting to becollared.

A Life in the Day of Nixdown NixonTo give Deborah her due when she puts hermind to it she is ruthlessly efficient. She shuttlesDerby up the steps and across the stage. In oneelegant and adroit motion she manages to sit downon the straight-backed chair that has magicallyappeared under the spotlight and dumps Derby overher knee.Without wasting time with the usualpreliminaries, she flips back Derby’s skirt and pushesher blazer back so it envelopes her Ladyship’s headand begins to dust.Deborah has consistently refused to spank mebut watching her in action makes me all the moredetermined to change her mind. She gives Derby notime to settle in and proceeds with a constant blitzattack landing spanks on random cheeks at lightningspeed and with considerable ferocity.The spanking takes barely a minute but I ampretty sure that Debs landed at least sixty spanks.Derby’s response is positively gymnastic. It iscommonly understood that the heart of a spanking iswhen it moves into the blitz phase. Poor Derby hadnot even been allowed the traditional warm-up phase,she had just been blitzed from start to finish.Debs rearranges Derby’s clobber and helps herto her feet. Her Ladyship stares at Debs in awedamazement.“Whoa Ma’am,” she says finally, “that was sofawkin’ kewl!”As I have mentioned earlier Lady DerbyHuntington may well have more than a few bats loosein the belfry.

119Debs blows on her hand and shakes it. “Jeez,”she giggles, “my poor hands is on fire.”“Are you ok Ma’am?” gasps Derby with genuineconcern in her voice.“Oh for gawd’s sake,” laughs Debs. “Come onlet’s go get you a drink.”As I say. Absolutely fucking barking.We take a brief break from the entertainmentsso we can freshen up and take care of any urgentbusiness. When we return we found that the red winehad been replaced by ice-buckets filled with bottles ofvintage 2000 Cristal that we are informed that SpankyBotts had generously stumped up for.It really came as no surprise to learn thatSpanky is going to take a spin, bare bummed acrossthe back of a chair so that she can be given sixstrokes of the senior cane by Cat Cassidy.Over the past six months Spanky and I havebecome pretty tight. After all we are pretty well birdsof a feather and share many of the same tastes andlifestyle choices.She is also tight with Cat and when she is inresidence they often ends the night drinkingchampagne in Cat’s apartment. Spanky often lamentsthat although she occasionally manages to persuadeCat to put her across her knee and give her a damngood spanking when she suggests a little rattanaction Cat just laughs and changes the subject.One can only assume that by lashing out threethousand squids on vintage champagne Spanky mighthave upped her chances of being selected in the

A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixonrandom process that dictates who will participate inthe evenings entertainment.Spanky stands up with a big grin on her face.She looks over at Cathryn.“Shall we?” she asks.