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A Preliminary Report on the Mating Habits of the Posterior Society
(****, MFfm/ffmm, Intense, spanking teens)
This a sociologist's report on the mating habits of the members of the very private Posterior Society. (Approximately 4,460 words. Originally published 1995-07.)
Dr. Elliot B. Uns
Director, Sociology Department
Version 1C--July 1995
_This report contains confidential material and is not be released
out of the possession of those authorized. If your name is not on
this copy of this report you are _not_ authorized to read this report.
Please turn it in to University Security immediately._
Background and Introduction
In 1964 the Posterior Club was formed by Sir Michael McDonaldson, a retired officer of British Royal Navy. Mr. McDonaldson, a resident of Waskeekee, Washington, who felt that the American traditions of family were rapidly eroding. Modeling his organization upon the principles of loyalty, trust, and strict discipline he'd learned in the military, Mr. McDonaldson started a phenomena that has no parallel in history. Far from continuing as a simple local family organization, the Posterior Club developed and became the Posterior Society, with over 50,000 members just in North America.
The Posterior Society is traditionally closed to the public and press, and many of its activities have remained private and secret for decades. A few practices are known, such as the devotion to family and the encouragement of parents and spouse to administer physical discipline. There are also numerous public activities in which P.S. family members engage in, such as sporting tournaments and local charities.
But much of the Posterior Society is unknown. Families are immensely loyal to the organization and do not welcome inquisitive strangers. One must point out that there does not seem to be anything illegal or improper taking place at these meetings; but rather it is simply that outsiders remain outside. It is curious that after 30 years of existence the average citizen barely knows the Posterior Society exists.
Late last year I came upon an opportunity to informally join and observe the Posterior Society in person. My interest was at once piqued, of course, and I could not refuse, regardless of the questionable ethics of the situation. The following report is based upon my personal observations and perceptions during the Spring of 1995.
(Because of the unusual methods used to obtain this material, this report should remain confidential, at least initially.)
This is only a preliminary report. More detailed reports will be forthcoming, but there is a great deal of information and observations to be collated and analyzed. Also, this report deals strictly with the mating rituals of the Posterior Society. For other aspects of the Society, please refer to my related reports in this series. Names and places of private individuals have been changed, of course.
The Posterior Society membership is primarily families. These are ordinary, decent, hard-working community members whose interest in the Posterior Society comes from a strong belief and acceptance of the core values the Posterior Society has adopted, and a firm conviction that modern society is moving away from these traditional values.
Most of the members I spoke with truly felt that without the Posterior Society they would have found it difficult to live in modern American society. Several credited it with saving their own life, or the lives of their families and children. I spoke with a number of men and women who claimed the techniques taught by the Posterior Society prevented their marriages from breaking, and many others spoke of improved relationships and social skills. I believe this is in part responsible for the incredible loyalty of the members to the group.
My first impressions of the members were extremely favorable. The people I spoke with were professional, polite, intelligent, caring, and thoroughly well-adjusted individuals. I observed several small groups engaged in various activities, such as a volleyball game, a croquet match, and a chess tournament. I was astonished at the happy smiles and good will expressed on all sides. While there was certainly competition, there was none of the excessive pride and frustration normally experienced with individuals playing a game. It was a remarkable display of good sportsmanship.
My second visit, however, was more disturbing. I had not arrived more than ten minutes earlier when I heard crying as I exited the washroom. I paused at the door to the women's restroom as the sound appeared to be coming from behind the door. To my horror I heard a loud slapping sound, like that of a human hand striking bare flesh. My face flushed and with a heroic effort I opened the door.
A tall woman of striking features was seated on a small sofa in the lounge area of the restroom, her arm in the air. Across her lap lay a young girl, face down. I could not quite tell her age because her hair had fallen over her face as she was bent forward so far only her hands propping her up kept her face from pressing against the floor. From her size, however, I deduced she must have been a young teenager. Amazingly, the young girl was almost naked, wearing only a t-shirt. On the floor near her was a pair of blue jeans and I saw with a blush, a small pair of pink panties. Her shirt was pulled up to expose her nude buttocks which I immediately noticed were a brilliant red.
As I watched, astonished, the tall woman brought her raised hand down onto the girl's bottom with a tremendous slap. The girl let out a howl of protest and wiggled violently, but the woman held her tight. "Sit still, Amy, or I will start over!" she growled, her black eyes snapping with fire. She did not seem to notice my presence, but continued to spank the girl.
After several spanks, during which I found my ability toward motion completely lost, I realized to my acute embarrassment, that the young girl was flailing her legs in a wild manner that couldn't help but expose herself to me. I blushed and bowed to leave, when the woman looked up at me.
"You don't happen to have a paddle with you, do you Hon? I really need to tan this girl's bottom and my hand is getting sore!"
I shook my head in stunned silence. The woman seemed a little annoyed. "Could you run out to the main lobby and ask John for one? I left my purse with my husband." I nodded and left, wondering what the world was coming to. I had never before observed corporal punishment.
"Er, John?" The man behind the desk turned. "Uh, there's, uh, a lady who said you would, uh, have a, uh, p-paddle she could borrow. S-She's in the process of, uh, disciplining her daughter." I felt as awkward as a kid on his first date. But the man smiled and nodded. "No problem," he said. "Which one would she like?"
He placed several on the table. There was a very large wooden one that looked like it would require two hands to properly hold and swing, a small leather one with a wooden handle, and a short wooden one with a round blade similar to a table tennis racquet, but the surface was smooth and polished.
I wasn't at all sure which the lady would prefer, but I selected the leather one, as of the three it seemed most appropriate considering the age of the girl. The leather area was thin and flat, about six inches wide by ten inches long. It looked rather imposing. I couldn't help but wonder how it felt.
"Oh, thanks! Could you give me a hand?"
How could I refuse the lady? I'm a gentleman, of course. I obediently grasped her daughters kicking heels and held her still while the woman took the paddle firmly in her right hand and proceeded to smack that red bottom as hard and fast as she could. I couldn't breathe. The girl's cries were horrendous, and I wondered what she'd done to deserve such a punishment, but of course it was none of my business.
But then not much is, really, and I rarely conceal my curiosity. "Pardon me, ma'am," I said calmly. "I can't help but notice how soundly you are punishing your daughter. I am certain she deserves it, of course, but just to satisfy my curiosity, what did she do?"
The woman grinned at me and glared at the sobbing girl. "She called her little brother 'worm-face' again. The second time this week. You'd think she'd learn. Did this teach you a lesson, Amy?"
The girl nodded frantically. "Yes, mom! Please, I'm sorry. I'll never call Ricky anything bad again. Please, can I go now?"
"All right," said the woman with a sigh. "I suppose you've had enough for now. But you'd better watch yourself or you'll be across my knees the minute we get home!"
Blushing at me, the girl quickly stood and dressed. She washed her face at the sink and then left. Her mother turned to me. "My name is Hatcher, Barbara Hatcher. My husband publishes the _Clarion_." I recognized the name at once, of course, and needless to say I was quite surprised.
"D-do you always exercise such, er, _rigorous_ methods of punishment?"
"That? Oh, that's nothing. She'll have forgotten about that in an hour. You must be new here. You should go upstairs to see some _real_ punishments."
I soon discovered what she was referring to. There were a number of rooms upstairs reserved for punishment. These rooms were well equipped with all the essential tools for corporal discipline, such as belts, hairbrushes, rulers, paddles, crops, whips, leather straps, birch switches, and even rattan canes. These were formidable rooms. (See my "Report on Corporal Discipline of the Posterior Society.")
But I've only mentioned these events so the reader will understand my mental state when I returned for my third visit. This was again at the main Posterior Society site, but this time it was during an evening party. This was primarily a party for the children of members, a way of letting them enjoy themselves without the temptations of a party out in the "real world."
Most of these children were in high school, and it was a fascinating exercise for me to watch them. "Mating rituals," I thought to myself. "This will be interesting." It turned out to be much more of an adventure than I had imagined.
The evening began with a buffet and casual eating and conversation. I noticed most of the adults clung together and left the teenagers alone. I couldn't help but watch them. It was amusing seeing a girl flirt with two boys and the boys stumble of themselves to be the first to offer her a drink or chair.
Then came the dancing. Again, the adults did not directly participate, but left the floor open to the kids. This seemed normal enough and I did not pay much attention, finding the adults' behavior of interest. Then suddenly I heard and slight commotion and turned and watched as a tall young man and a pretty blonde girl quarreled.
The girl shrugged her shoulders and turned her back to the boy, and then oddly, thrust her buttocks toward him. I took this to be some form of teenage insult, but the man next to me said to another, "She's heading for a spanking, acting like that," and the other man nodded.
Sure enough, a scant few seconds later the tall young man had the blond bent across his left leg and he began to slap her bottom with his right hand. The girl was wearing a long red dress and I doubted she felt much, but I couldn't believe that none of the adults were making a move to stop this abuse.
The spanking was quite loud and rigorous, the girl's cries beginning to draw attention. I was astonished at how frequently the blows were landing, but suddenly I became aware that the blonde girl was not the only girl being punished.
On the other side of the room another couple was engaged much as the first, except this boy had sat in a chair and had the young lady across his lap, her dress flipped up and her panties pulled down as the spanked her bare bottom! As I watched, open-mouthed, he reached to the table next to him where there was a loaf of delicious country bread on a small bread board. He placed the remains of the loaf on the table and shook the crumbs off the board and then took the makeshift paddle and began to really punish the poor girl's bottom.
I stared around the room in horror and disbelief. Not one of the adults even seemed alarmed at this behavior, and in fact, several seemed quite pleased. A tall distinguished man seated near me murmured to the lady next to him, "See, I told you Tonya was going to get her bottom spanked tonight. Brad's a responsible boy-- he wouldn't let her impertinence escape proper punishment." The woman nodded in agreement.
"Jack, isn't that your boy spanking my daughter over there?" asked a man to my right. A nearby gentleman stood to get a better view. I saw they were watching yet another teenage couple in a far corner, the boy seated on the floor, the girl stretched half-naked across his lap.
"You're right, Tom," said the second man, pleased. "That's my Randy. I didn't even know they were dating."
"Neither did I," said the first. But as we watched, another boy approached the busily spanking couple. Though all around me there were dozens of fascinating incidents of human behavior, I could not take my eyes off this one couple. This was too intriguing.
The two boys appeared to be arguing. The girl interrupted them and spoke at length, evidently with common sense because both boys shrugged and nodded. Then the girl stood and clambered into the second boy's lap as he sat himself on the floor. "Oh, a competition!" said an excited voice near me. The second boy, a skinny blond with a red face, began to spank the girl with his left hand, her face toward us.
This was astonishing to me, to say the least. I noticed the first boy looking at his watch periodically, apparently timing the punishment. I glanced at my own watch and estimated the spanking at three full minutes of non-stop paddling. Then the girl was shifted back to the first boy who took his turn as the other timed him. The girl was still facing us, and (purely for research motives, I assure you) I wished I could see her buttocks reddening and quivering under his sharp blows. Her face was also of great interest to me, however, because though she was crying, tears dripping down her face and obviously in tremendous pain, she was smiling and opening her mouth in what I would swear were gasps of pleasure!
The girl seemed much to prefer her second spanking, and with a word from her the skinny boy looked sad and walked away, scuffing his feet and finding a chair by himself where he could sit and watch the happy girl go across her boyfriend's lap once more.
"Ha! Ha!" said the man on my right. "My Randy wins! He's a great spanker, that boy. I taught him well!"
I turned my attention to the other couples in the room, and found much to engage me. The first couple I had seen--the girl with the long red dress--was now in the midst of a real whipping. The pretty girl was bent over and grasping her ankles with hands. Her red dress was pulled up over her waist, revealing a trim figure and graceful round buttocks. Her panties were down by her ankles just above where her hands were clenched. As she was quite close and her buttocks were pointed directly at me, I was decidedly embarrassed to see the rather obvious protrusion of her sex between her legs. And unless my eyes deceived me, the glittering lights revealed she was quite moist!
The youth next to her had slipped off his leather belt and was proceeding to stripe the girl's bottom with light red welts. The girl was sobbing but did not attempt to rise or run away. The boy did his work slowly, pausing for as much as thirty seconds between each stroke to let the girl really feel the blow, and the girl shuddered and moaned after each lash. When I finally managed to tear my eyes away from this fascinating scene, the girl already had a dozen thick red marks across her shapely bottom and sleek thighs.
But girls were by no means only the recipients of discipline. In the directly center of the stage I saw a strapping youth bent across the seat of a chair, his pants and underwear down around his ankles, as two young ladies stood at his feet and took turns swiping his buttocks with apparently his own belt. The boy quivered with each stroke or series of strokes, but did not try to resist in any fashion. I marveled at his control as the whipping seemed quite severe and his buttocks were obviously welted and striped.
Something else caught my eye and noticed that the young lad I had seen using the bread board to paddle his date was now in the reverse position himself, his own bottom bare and red as she smacked him hard with that same wooden paddle.
All around me were dozens of young couples spanking and paddling and whipping. A few I noticed had resumed dancing (the music had not been stopped during this period), but I saw one young lady accidently step on her partner's foot and in a the blink she was upended and spanked soundly. Her dancing was much improved when they resumed, but I saw she had a rather blissful smile on her face as she rested her chin on his shoulder as they danced close and slow.
Suddenly I heard a yelp and loud slap right close to my left ear. To my utter confoundment, the adult couple near me was engaged in the same occupation as most of the teenagers! Yes, the mid-aged man with a touch of silver in his hair had his pretty and once-dignified wife spread across his lap and he spanked her very hard, her bottom quite bare from the sound of the slap, but the obstacle of the table prevented my catching a glimpse of her nakedness.
But my sociological instincts were on alert. My eyes darted to a slim young lady, quite young and obvious shy, approaching a lonely young boy sitting by himself in a corner. Both of them looked barely thirteen or fourteen. She stood in front of him and he looked up in surprise. Wordlessly, she offered him a hairbrush. Curiosity was burning in me as to what this meant.
The boy's face immediately beamed into a wonderful smile and he took the brush from the girl. He studied it with awe as though it was a gift from heaven, and then smiled at the girl. She smiled shyly, but looked very nervous. At the boy's urging, however, she obediently spread herself across his lap. They boy helped her eagerly, his youthful enthusiasm showing as he lifted her skirt to reveal a pert and bouncy bottom covered with white panties.
Without further waiting, he took the hairbrush and turning it on its back proceeded to wallop her poor bottom with the instrument. It appeared to hurt quite a bit because the girl opened her mouth with a loud cry. He spanked her again, and then again. She was quickly crying, and I saw the boy occasionally pause and comfort her, caressing her buttocks with his hand and even once pushing the brush between her little legs to rub the bristles against her crotch.
"Oh, dear, it's getting late," said a large woman at a table near me. She stood. "Honey, will hurry and fetch Bobby? Remember, you promised him six of the best with the cane before we go." A heavyset man stood and nodded. "He's over there with Martha. I'll take care of him and meet you outside in five minutes."
I watched as the man strode across the hall and selected a short young man dancing with a freshly-spanked young lady who I noticed took advantage of the distraction to rub her bottom vigorously. But the boy was led away looking rather depressed, and with a last kiss, she went and sat by herself with, I presumed, her parents, from the way they spoke to her.
Other families were also leaving, and I realized with surprise that very few spankings were still taking place. Most of the teenagers were dancing or cuddling or simply standing and talking, glasses of punch in their hands. Very few were sitting, though there were plenty of chairs available.
I stood myself and wandered out into the lobby. The party was obviously breaking up, though there were still people around. Then I noticed one young lady, a tall, older girl, perhaps close to eighteen years of age, standing near an older gentleman who was verbally castigating her. I recognized her from the dance floor because she was the only girl I had seen wearing pants instead of a dress and she'd had to take them completely off for her spanking. Now she stood with her jeans and panties in her hands covering her front, her very red and punished buttocks on display for everyone.
As I watched, her father grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the stairs and she reluctantly followed, eyes tearing and pleading. I couldn't help but follow, curious as to what was happening. No one paid any attention to me. I followed the couple as they entered a room off the hallway at the top of the stairs, and couldn't help but feel excited that they had neglected to close the door behind them.
Inside, I could see, was a small room that seemed designed for punishment. Canes and whips and paddles adorned the walls, and I watched as the man bent the crying girl across a short trestle and bound her ankles and wrists to the base. Then he selected a long thin white cane from a rack on the wall and returned to his daughter's backside.
For some strange reason I was fiendishly excited by this, and I eagerly and unashamedly watched. The girl was quite mature, her large buttocks round and firm and mounted on stocky legs that seemed very smooth.
With bated breath I saw the father draw back the cane high behind him and swing it two handed in a perfect arc that caught her buttocks dead on. The crack of the cane was like a rifle shot, and I started in astonishment. The cane dented the flesh of the girl's bottom for a moment and then pulled back leaving a long thin welt across both cheeks. The girl howled and threw her head back. She wiggled and struggled in her bonds, oblivious of the show she was putting on.
There was a swish and the cane struck her again, this time a little higher. Again and mark and a howl. Another swish and crack and I heard the girl suck in her breath and moan loudly. She wiggled her buttocks violently, and I knew she was in a great deal of pain. There was a new red stripe across her rump, right near the top of her thighs, and I could almost hear the flesh sizzling.
Her father gave her three more strokes of that cane and then untied her and she hugged him, sobbing. He kissed her and told her he loved her. She nodded and rubbed her bottom ruefully. "Thank you for the caning, Daddy," she said. "I know I needed it, though I didn't want it."
He nodded and smiled. "I know, dear. Now get dressed and let's go home." He waited quietly while she carefully put her underwear and jeans back on, wincing at the tightness, and then the two left. Neither appeared to notice my presence.
I left, too, at that point. My mind was spinning and I found I could not concentrate. Images of naked bottoms being slapped and whipped and caned filled my brain and I could think of nothing else.
In despair, I found my hostess and took her out for some cocktails. It was due to her influence I managed to join the Posterior Society, so I will refrain from mentioning her identity. Trust that she is a lady of breeding, and not one I would have expected to be a member of such an organization.
"Well, what did you think?" she asked once we had our drinks.
"Interesting," I said with grave understatement. "There was one thing that confused me, however. I noticed there was a great deal of sexual tension on the dance floor. Is that wise, considering the propensities of teenagers? Wasn't part of the purpose of the party to keep them away from sexual impulses?"
"Oh, we don't wish to create non-sexual beings," she laughed. "On the contrary, we want to grow adults with healthy, unrepressed attitudes toward sex. We just want our children to learn to _control_ those impulses. By incorporating corporal punishment as part of the mating ritual we show children that there are many aspects of sexual pleasure, and the pain involved helps them control themselves. Our children are much more responsible than typical teenagers. In fact, our teen pregnancy rate is almost nil. Our techniques have proven very effective."
"So the children _do_ experience sexual pleasure through the pain? I thought I saw several instances, but I wasn't certain."
"Of course. That's the whole point of that type of punishment. It's both a reward and deterrent in one."
Of course this is simply a preliminary report and much more study would have to be done for a serious scientific conclusion, but my early analysis has come to a few conclusions.
One, the Posterior Society is made up of healthy, normal people who are thoughtful and intelligent, extremely goal-oriented, and lead happy, structured, and disciplined lives. I could find no real negative to their lifestyle, other than the simple fact that it is not accepted by the general public. Indeed, initial observations show members to be superior in constitution, geniality, and common courtesy than the average citizen.
Two, the mating rituals of the Posterior Society seem to be successful. Of the known marriages between P.S. members all have been successful, and most of the P.S. members report above average satisfaction and contentment within their own families.
End of Report