Aunty Agony

Aunty really laughed at this wonderful post from The Spanking Writers:

"So," I asked of the team I was working with in their grand corporate headquarters today, "what's the history of the building?"

"It was a reform school."

Cue difficutly in concentrating for the next few minutes. We were working in what must have been the old reception: I pictured girls driven up the long, tree-lined drive; marched in by the scruff of their necks, their details recorded by the severe orderly behing an imposing desk.

Then on into the ornate circular hallway. That first room on the right must have been where they were taken to strip off their civilian clothes - and to shower, or be showered.

Thence, presumably, next door, to be kitted out in their reformatory uniform. Made to wait in the hallway, perhaps.

Then called in to the large room opposite, where the birching block was set up, for their court-determined whipping to be inflicted.

(Can I really believe that I wrote this during a meeting on my Blackberry?!)

I'm sure I saw one of the lasses at the back of the room squirm knowingly.

Aunty often drifts into reveries like this. Sadly, she does not own a Blackberry. Perhaps she'll have to get one -- if only to faithfully record the intricacies of her bizarre daydreams ;)