fun-humour-happiness

Make a grown man blush?

“I ache for the touch of lips dear, but much more for the touch of your whips dear. You can raise welts like nobody else …” Tom Lehrer

Ms Whiplash meets a man… might bring a blush to your cheeks

It all started in the Authors’ Lounge at the London Book Fair a couple of years back. Feet sore, and ready for a coffee, I found a space at a table.

Having confirmed the seat was available, I took the weight off with a big sigh. In moments I was in conversation with an attractive woman, a successful author as it happens. We chatted about this and that and she invited me to meet her publisher; great idea.

My life experience was about to widen …

Down the aisle

We walked down some aisles searching for the stand. Finally, on a corner position, there it was… OMG …

Remember the old line, that’s a nice outfit you’re almost wearing? I gazed at the six-packs, cleavages, buttocks, thighs and other exposed acres of firm flesh — nothing improper you understand; just book covers and posters. In fact, I can’t think why I walked into the column supporting the stand.

After a brief introduction to the boss, I undertook to drop by next day and say ‘hi.’ My education on the subject, whilst far from complete, was about to get a boost.

Later, back at the stand

The following morning, they were ready for me. Imagine this Scottish author standing there in his kilt, black socks and shirt. Whatever else, I stood up for mankind as the only male on the stand … and firmly in the cross-hairs as I was about to discover … talk about lads and lashes …

There were two or three editors, a couple of authors and the publisher talking … just for me, I suspect, after some invisible director bellowed action in a voice only they could hear.

Lamb to the slaughter

First they talked about the art of making a person blush. Hmm that sounds like an interesting piece of psychology, I thought — wrong — they weren’t talking about using words to achieve a rosy tint. No, they meant techniques for spanking others with implements, you know: paddles, cats o’ nine tails, whips, lashes, rods, twigs, belts, straps, rulers … to create the glow.

I worked hard to look comfortable — and not blush — as they discussed the latest apparatus. My innocence protected me as I heard of techniques to raise a corporeal flush without breaking the skin: flick, swipe, swish, stroke … amazing; the appliance of a light (?) punishing science between consenting adults. It was all about pain and a gain for some people.

Hands up

My hand must go up here — sorry no rudeness intended. I knew nothing before I went to the stand. Now, my awareness is greater and my knowledge slightly increased. For the time being, I’d like to stay unbeatable.

The women I met were pleasant and mischievous. Did I bolt? No, of course not, I believe I left with dignity … I’m sure the chuckles I heard came from a nearby stand.

One thing I have to say, I’ll never slap my knee, stroke a cat or strike a golf ball without new trains of thought springing, unbidden, to mind.

Mac Logan
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