Wartime romance the military and the cane
As promised here are two military punishment stories. They both featured in separate minor publications, in the 1970s and early 1980s. They were both published as real life accounts.
The first account concerns a liaison between two officers who were witnesses at the punishment of one of the 12 WAAFs sentenced variously to birching and caning for mutiny in Aden during the 1940s. The second is the story of an unconventional love affair between two women naval officers stationed in Britain around the same time.
Former Squadron Leader G, takes up our first story:
Much was written at the time about the young WAAFs who were punished in Aden during the war, although it now seems to have largely been forgotten. I was called upon as the only available senior officer to accompany the officer of one of the serving women to witness the punishment of one of her girls.
The 19-year-old Leading Aircraftwoman had originally been sentenced to eight stroked of a penal birch by the Aden Protectorate Court, but because of the shortage of birches in Aden during war time this had been commuted to a dozen strokes with a judicial cane.
The young flight lieutenant I accompanied was an attractive ex-public schoolgirl and I noticed straight away that there was something in her manner that suggested that she was taking a rather strange interest in the girl’s plight.
She wasn’t very friendly during our long drive to the penal compound, which I put down to her resentment of having to be accompanied by me.
When we finally arrived at the compound I was shocked to find out that the girl was to be caned on the bared buttocks. I tried to protest but was told that I was only an outside observer and besides many of the other sentences had already been carried out in this way.
The young woman officer with me however made no complaint and we were invited to take a position in front of where the punishment was to be carried out.
The girl was dragged out still in her uniform protesting at her treatment. One of the police officers and a WAAF NCO spoke quietly to her and she calmed down a bit, although she was already crying.
She was stripped very quickly and bent over a heavy bench affair. While this was going on I noticed that the flight lieutenant was very flushed and kept licking her lips.
The caning was administered with one stroke at about 30 second intervals. The girl cried out in anger and pain at each stroke which left vivid red marks very evenly spaced from the top of her buttocks descending to the top of her thighs.
I can’t say that I was unmoved by the experience but my modest arousal was nothing compared to obvious state of the WAAF officer, although thankfully I don’t think anyone else noticed, all eyes being on the half naked girl.
Afterwards the distressed girl was helped down and led away, in a much more subdued state than when she was brought out I noted.
On the way back the woman officer was much more chatty and asked if we could get a drink somewhere. Of course there were no bars and the only place to get a drink was my hotel room in town. To my surprise she accepted.
Once in my room I commented that she seemed a lot friendlier on the way back than she had on the way there. She answered by kissing me and we were soon making love on the bed.
Afterwards she confided that anything to do with the caning of girls always got her going and that she had been that way since she was at school where girls were still caned.
I asked if she had ever been caned herself and she blushed and said just once. I asked if she had been aroused by it and she said not at the time but afterwards.
We talk some more about this and her reaction at the girl’s caning. I told her she was lucky no one else had noticed because it had been an unseemly and inappropriate display. I must admit I felt a little hypocritical saying this, but I was both curious and trying to make a serious point.
She agreed and seemed genuinely ashamed.
I pretended to be angry and told her that her behaviour had been disgraceful. She blushed and again agreed. I told that she was lucky I did not have a cane, but that perhaps a spanking would serve instead, she protested but not enough.
I pulled her over my knee as she struggled, but not all that hard in retrospect, and administered a fairly stiff spanking. She even had the good grace to cry a little. Of course that led to another passionate interlude before we went back on duty.
We dated a couple of times after that and I only had to threaten to cane her if she were late or something and she would get very passionate. I got to spank her a few times but I never did get around to caning her.
The second story concerns a young WRNS officer and what transpired after she accepted a caning from her immediate superior.
Former Sub-Lieutenant Maggie B takes up our story.
During the war when I was in my early 20s I was the junior officer at a base in the West Country. It was a training base used mainly for women recruits fresh out of basic who had to do various short courses before they could get their posting.
It was all very dull really, my job was to assign the women to their accommodation and help the various training officers write the progress reports for the CO.
I answered to a young Lieutenant Helen T who was responsible for trainee discipline. It was quite a shock for me on my first day to enter her office to find a young trainee half naked bent over her desk for a bare bottom caning.
“Out!” She yelled.
I could not get out of the office quick enough. I waited for about five minutes before the girl, who was no older than 18, marched out in tears. I was still so surprised I nearly forgot to return her salute.
Afterwards Helen explained that she caned only for serious breaches of discipline and it was all above board. The trainees had a choice of accepting it or reporting to the CO. She laughed and told me that I could relax, as she did not usually cane officers. I remember I laughed with her slightly worried by the usually part of her statement.
I asked what the girl had done and was told she had been drunk and had missed curfew and was caught by the gate guard trying to climb over a 10 feet fence.
After that I was aware of a lot of canings by Helen and was even present for some of them. Now I think back I realise that at the time I would pretend to myself that I was sympathetic to the girls and appalled at their treatment. The whole thing in fact fascinated me and if I were really honest I was quite turned on (as they would say now days) at seeing the girls undress. But in those days I was not in touch with my feelings and did not think about my response.
Helen and I became quite good friends although she liked to let me know she was the boss. She was like my big sister always telling me off but always covering for me. I don’t think I was a very good example of a servicewoman.
Then one day something happened that changed my life forever. As I said it was a very quiet base and I did not have all that much to do. One of my regular jobs was to act as duty officer. This meant that I was on duty, sometimes over night, just in case something happened. I don’t know what could happen, if the invasion had happened I did not have a clue what to do.
So what I usually did when I was the duty officer at night was do my rounds to check everything was correct then sleep on the couch in the duty office.
There was also a duty sergeant and she could wake me if I was needed. One night of course she didn’t and it was Helen who discovered me asleep.
I could not believe how angry she was. She was no longer Helen my friend it was all yes ma’am no ma’am and three bags full. It took me a while to realise that I was in more trouble than I realised and that she was going to report me to the CO.
I tried to keep my dignity but asked her if she really had to do that. After all hadn’t some of the trainees done worse?
That was a big mistake. I was an officer. As duty officer I was responsible for base security, what if the balloon had gone up? How dare I compare myself to a trainee? Who did I think I was?
After that we walked around the base and checked everything. We even turned out the guard. I felt absolutely terrible and quite sick by the time I came off duty.
Helen told me to report to her office the next day. I had a sleepless night I can tell you.
The next morning I was on the carpet in front of Helen’s desk. Helen told me she had been thinking about what I had said the night before. She said if I had been a trainee I would be given the choice of two dozen with the stick across my bare bottom instead of a visit to the CO. She said it could remain between us if I accepted the same.
When I had suggested that she deal with me herself I had not been thinking that this would be an option. However I realised that there was no easy alternative for her. I cannot tell now what was going through my mind all those years ago. If it had been anyone else but Helen I don’t think I would have agreed.
It was very embarrassing as I removed my skirt, slip, jacket and knickers while she placed a padded chair in front of the desk. I then had to bend over the back of the chair with my elbows on the desk so that my head was lower than my bottom.
I tried not to look as she swished the cane but she did not rush and I was very apprehensive. The first stroke did not hurt as much as I expected at first. It took a moment for the pain to build up. Then it felt like a line of fire across my bottom. After that every stroke hurt and I was soon finding it very difficult to keep from crying out. I felt very embarrassed but the pain was much worse.
The caning was in two parts as she let me have a short rest about halfway through. All together the punishment must have lasted about 15 minutes. Although I almost maintained my composure all through it once it was over I burst into tears. Helen gave me a little hug before she helped me to dress.
My bottom was covered in dark lines for nearly two weeks after that and it was a few days before I could sit down.
Things changed a little between Helen and I after that. Although I did not dare sleep on duty after that I still made other mistakes and Helen did not help me cover them up as much as she had before.
About a month later I confused two trainees with almost the same name in the progress reports. It would not have been so bad but one was very good and the other had failed. I got a bollocking from the training officer who then sent me to Helen rather than the CO.
Helen told me she could deal with it herself again if I accepted 18 strokes. After 24 strokes before I did not think that 18 would be so bad so I accepted. In the event it actually seemed worse than before and I was crying before the caning was over this time.
Afterwards Helen came to my room and put some cream on my bottom. It felt very strange but also nice. I remember that she asked me who my favourite film star was while she was smoothing ointment into my bare bottom. I did not really have one so I said Ronald Coleman.
“Imagine it is Ronald Coleman who is putting cream on your bottom.” She said.
It was so ridiculous I laughed. But she told me to close my eyes and imagine. It was all very odd but I did become aroused. Then she kissed me.
I objected but she just told me to close my eyes and it would be all right. After that we had a kiss and cuddle on my bed.
We had to be very careful around the base and outwardly Helen became a lot less friendly. But whenever we were off duty she would ask me if I wanted a Ronald Coleman tonight. I always blushed and said yes.
The other thing that changed was that whenever I did anything wrong she would cane me right off giving me no choice. It became so that I was caned for really trivial things and she always gave me a lot of strokes, more I think than I really deserved.
Our nights together went well beyond Ronald Coleman, although that was still a private joke between us, I was always scared that someone would find out, but that made it more exciting I think. Also when we were alone she sometimes put me over her knee and smacked me with a hairbrush. Sometimes it hurt quite a bit but I still let her do it.
After the war we went our separate ways and I went back to live with my mother. My mother kept telling me I should get married but all I could think about was Helen and being caned and spanked by her.
Then one day I was in Oxford Circus of all places and I saw Helen crossing the road with another woman. She stopped to chat and we agreed to meet the next week. After that we went out a lot to the theatre and the cinema. Although for a long time nothing else happened between us.
Then one night over dinner she started talking about how mad the war was and how people did stupid things the would never do in peace time. I asked her what she meant.
“I mean like Ronald Coleman.” She was blushing.
I got very embarrassed and left the restaurant, I’ll never forget the look of horror on her face.
Afterwards I felt ashamed and devastated at the thought that I would never see her again. I eventually plucked up the courage to call her and she agreed to meet me.
We had a very emotional evening and a lot of drinks before going back to her place. When we got there I was shocked to see a cane laying on the coffee table. I asked her what it was for and she said I deserved to be punished for walking out on her the time before. I felt very dizzy and scared and asked her how many I would get. She said that would depend and she would start with 18.
I had forgotten how much it hurt and she really took her time and made no effort to hide how much she enjoyed caning me. After I had taken 18 she said she could stop there but that I had to take another 18 if I wanted Ronald Coleman to join us. Of course I agreed, although why the neighbours didn’t call the police I’ll never know, people must have heard my screams for miles.
That was nearly 40 years ago. We are still together and my bottom has suffered a great deal over the years.
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Tags: 1940s, caning, judicial caning, military caning, real life spanking, spanking