Chapter 1 — The early years and the British Comic Book.

It is something that a great many of us ponder from time to time, just where did this spanking fetish originate from? Personally, I have no idea where my fascination started, but I do know that it has always been a part of me. Early on in life I would be hard pressed to say that my upbringing had anything to do with it, we lived on a very rough council estate in Swindon where discipline was handed out pretty swiftly. In my particular case that revolved around out and out brutality which is the furthest that I can imagine discipline being. Or perhaps it really did stem from there because spanking seemed to be a part of everyone’s life in loving homes, yet mine was anything but loving. Maybe the beatings I experienced were the cause of this desire due to wanting to grow up in a loving home.

Despite what I experienced and the fear I lived through each day of my life, I was unreasonably fascinated for as long as I could remember about the spankings that everyone else around me got. No matter if it was a boy or a girl, the moment the words spanking/smacking/walloping or good hiding were mentioned I wanted to know everything about it, whenever I played house you know darn well what I tried to bring into it every time we played.

Of course as a very young man there wasn’t even the slightest opportunity to delve into the reasons I had this fascination. We as adults sometimes think we are weird because of our fetish, you can only imagine how a young person feels. I’m pretty sure that early on I thought I was the sickest person alive. On the one hand, I was beaten until I bled and would carry the marks for literally weeks on end, even having to stay at home from school for fear that my abuser would be found out with what they had done to me. Whereas on the other hand if a peer, especially a girl, had mentioned that a spanking had been dished out the night before, I wanted to know even the minutest detail, from how long to how hard, to what was used and what they were wearing. Yeah, even at such a young age I thought there was something seriously wrong with me!! The only outlet at that time is what I am going to cover here, and that is the wonderful tradition of the British comic book.

There wasn’t much that was stable at home when I was young, but for some reason Sunday’s always seemed to be. Dad worked 7 days a week and on Sunday mornings, during his deliveries, he would stop by home and drop off the papers and what seemed to me at the time, a biblical amount of comic books for my siblings and myself. One of my earliest memories of life is waiting around on a Sunday morning waiting for Dad to bring in the weekly comic stash. It’s even funny because I actually remember feeling guilty that Dad would be spending all this money on us kids, I mean, we were as poor as poor could be, but every Sunday we would get this stack of comics. The reality is though, these comics cost like tuppence a piece, perhaps a thrupenny bit, then of course when the decimal system changed they were still no more than a shilling…… oops, I mean 5 new pence, lol. So in reality Dad probably only shed out maybe 25 pence a week, or 5 shillings in old money, and yet I kind of felt bad that he was spoiling us. Obviously there is a reason for that but this story isn’t about that, I’m sure those of you who have been there can understand why an abused kid who had nothing would feel guilty about getting something.

Now on to the comics themselves. Sunday morning and there they were, the Beano, the Dandy, Knockout/Whizzer and Chips, the Beezer, Whoopee, the Topper, Cor, Sparky, Buzz, the list goes on and on, each one hiding a hidden gem. It’s funny really because every kid wants the latest issue of the Beano or Dandy, not old Richard Windsor though, the first comic he wants is Knockout (later Whizzer and Chips) to catch the latest episode of this girl.
(Remember to click on each pic for the full sized version)

Without fail, every Sunday I would grab Whizzer and Chips and flip through the pages to find my girl, Fuss Pot. As soon as I found her strip I gazed to the bottom right corner to see if she was being spanked in this issue. I can only imagine my pout on those days where she didn’t get spanked in an issue, but that was the joy of British comics, even if Fuss Pot didn’t get it, you knew someone was getting it somewhere in one of the other comics, or maybe even Bewitched Belinda got it in the comic I was holding in my hand somewhere in the issue. This following strip is the only one I have where Fuss Pot is getting spanked, by the family dog with her own slipper.

Part of the allure I guess was the fact that she would always get spanked on the seat of her frilly white knickers, which was quite the excitement for a young lad in a titillating way. The other girl who always suffered the same fate was Teacher’s Pet, now I didn’t find Teacher’s Pet nearly as exciting as Fuss Pot, but a spanking is a spanking after all.

Once I had my fill of Fuss Pot it was on to the one girl who pretty much got spanked in every issue, and that of course is Minnie the Minx in the Beano. Every spanking she ever got was by her Dad on the seat of her black shorts, so when I came across this extra pic of her as a cave girl, I was delighted.

Also in the Beano there was of course Rodger the Dodger and the Bash Street Kids. Now they never got spanked very often, but occasionally you would find Roger in trouble or the Bash Street Kids all lining up to get caned.

There were lots of other characters that got spanked but I don’t have any pictures of them, but there were characters like Keyhole Kate, Beryl the Peril, Tomboy, Little Mo, Saucy Sue, Calamity Kate and Lolly Pop. I’m sure some of the readers will name some that I have forgotten over the years.

So that was the very first taste of mine in my journey towards the spanking lifestyle. In the next installment I will talk about my early introduction at a much too young age in the seedy world of Soho in London. Not long after the story that I wrote about my first experience actually giving a spanking, http://spankingbrats.blogspot.com/2006/12/first-time-and-why-dress-code-is-so.html I discovered through a skin mag that there was actually a little place in London where you could actually buy real magazines that were totally devoted to spanking and corporal punishment. I wasn’t even old enough to go to this store at the time, but one day I set off on my journey to London and only hoped that I didn’t get turned away at the door when I got there. I also discovered a cinema nearby that showed spanking films all day long, it was a scary world for a young lad to be going in to, especially as when I first went there I hadn’t even turned 17 years old yet. It was very scary, and in hindsight extremely stupid for me to be doing those things at such a terribly young age, but it was nothing compared to the first spanking gathering I went to in London when I was 18 years old. That was almost enough to put me off of the spanking lifestyle for good and was full of some very creepy characters. At the time I thought I either had to hide who I was, or spend a lifetime of hanging around a seedy clubs and hush hush bookstores. Luckily for me I discovered that a single event, and my inexperienced youth, was the real reason that I made so many mistakes when I first started in my journey towards the spanking lifestyle.

My journey from the age of 16 until I arrived in America at the age of 22 will be covered in the next installment. The third installment will be about coming to America and how it changed my life and my views forever, just one summer of fun and I knew I would try and spend the rest of my life in a country that I came to initially for only three months. It took a couple of years, but I achieved what I wanted, but you guys will get to read all about it as I post my spanking journey in the upcoming installments.

Richard Windsor.