To some, chess might appear to be a rather dull, slow game, but not so the game I played with my partner, Robert, recently.
Robert and I are both reasonable chess players, and quite evenly matched, although I usually win. It was Robert’s suggestion a few weeks ago to set the chess board up for an evening chess match. Although I was happy to play, I was more in the mood to cane him, so I suggested that we play with some added rules.
“Perhaps I can come up with some rules that will encourage you to concentrate on your game,” I suggested.
“Well, OK,” he replied, sounding a little unsure. He would have guessed the sort of rules I had in mind. It didn’t take me long to come up with some:
For each pawn Robert loses he goes over my knee for a quick, bare bottom spanking.
For each bishop or Knight he bends over for six strokes across his bare bottom with my Lochgelly tawse.
For each castle he loses he bends over for eight strokes with the tawse, and if he loses his queen that increases to twelve strokes.
If he moves out of position during any tawsing, the tawsing starts again.
If he loses the game he is strapped over our whipping bench for a sound caning across his bare bottom.
“What happens when I take your pieces, or if I win?” he asked, when he had read them.
“Then you can revel quietly in the glory.”
“Seems a bit unfair,” he said, weakly.
“Of course its unfair, Robert, but you know only too well that that’s how things are in this house. I wasn’t all that keen to play when you suggested it, but I am now, so I suggest you set the board up before I get impatient and start modifying the rules. But first, I want you to assemble the whipping bench, so it’s ready for you, just in case we need it later.”
I’m delighted to tell you that it was needed later. We had a glorious game, where Robert was spanked and tawsed frequently and enthusiastically. One delicious part of the game was when I took his queen, which earned him twelve strokes with my Lochgelly tawse. I knew he would struggle to stay in position for twelve strokes, so I had him bend over the arm of the settee, then administered the tawse with as much venom and spite as I could manage. He made it to eight strokes before he leapt up, clutching his burning bottom. I insisted that he bend back over at once, and that the tawsing would start again. This time he managed only four strokes. It was quite clear that he wouldn’t be able to take all twelve without being restrained, so I told him the tawsing would remain unfinished business that I would address at the end of the game.
I won the game. Robert was ordered to the whipping bench and I had him secured, with his very red, bare bottom thrust up, ready to be thrashed.
“Before I cane you,” I said, “I shall address your failure to take twelve strokes with the tawse, twice. For that you will receive twenty-four strokes. Do you have anything to say about that?”
“No, Miss,” he replied.
He knows not to argue when I announce sentence, as I will invariably increase the punishment if he does.
He gasped, squealed and writhed delightfully during the tawsing that followed. It was merciless, the only way I know.
I gave him five minutes to reflect and mentally prepare for the caning.
“Twenty-four strokes,” I announced, as I approached him with my dragon cane.
I began the caning as I intended to continue, with maximum venom. Although I say so myself, I can assure readers that I cane hard. It was a delicious caning, where Robert squealed and writhed in a frenzy. The sturdy restraints of the whipping bench kept his wriggling bottom perfectly presented as I gradually added colourful lattice of angry, raised, colourful weals to his bare bottom cheeks.
“We must play chess more often, Robert,” I said, as I released him from his restraints. He was covered in perspiration and breathless from his futile efforts to escape his bonds. He sank down onto his knees with both hands cupping his blazing bottom cheeks – just how things should be after a sound caning.
The game of chess gave me the idea of including a game in the book I was currently writing. The story is about a young man, Nick, who is caught stealing money from his employer by Miss Proctor, a temporary accounts clerk. I’ve included chess games in this story, with the same sort of rules as above. For good measure, Nick is introduced by Miss Proctor to her friend, a policewoman who is frustrated by the pathetically lenient sentences that are handed down by the courts. I imagine you can guess the outcome of this introduction. The book has now been published and is called ‘Chess and Chastisement’. It is now finished and is available as a Kindle eBook on Amazon.