Family power structures Part 6 (re written re post)

[derry-boychild]

PART 6

Tabby (cont):

I need to explain how and why my family situation changed, and maybe needed to change.

I now kind of accept that I need to spend time as a little girl, even to be over teenager’s knees kicking and crying like a preschool girl. Perhaps the short period of even younger treatement helped too.

Well this is how it happened:

I thought that I was a very intelligent person. I was and am an intelligent person. I got a scholarship to college and a 1st class Social Work degree. I am better than anyone I know at answering quiz questions.

I felt I was a brilliant Social Worker. I was, and am a brilliant Social Worker. I could persuade people to put extra effort into getting work or qualifications. I could help parents learn how to improve relationships with children.

I was and am better than anyone I know at getting bureaucrats to offer the right kind of help to disadvantaged families. I am very good at spotting, which families can be made to work and which ones you need to say, 'sorry it is not in the interests of these children to stay with these adults’. I am incredibly effective at finding and supporting foster parents and adoptive parents.

I also felt that I was kind of a good role model in a different way. In the 1980s England, and indeed the UK was not as tolerant as it might be of many things. Oldborough as a whole was less tolerant than most of the land. However there was a small neighborhood where mixed race couples and other people who did not fit into the mainstream could live. I lived in Bohemia Square off Bloomsbury close.

All our immediate neighbors knew that Jane slept with me. Sadly, by early 1984, sleeping together was far too literal a description of my relationship with the lady I had then lived with for 5 years.

I believed, and I was right, that I was very good at my job,

I believed that given my commitment and my skill I would be able to solve all the social problems of a town that suffered an Economic disaster as a result of Thatcher's economic policies. Actually I was NOT able single handed to solve ALL the problems of a town that suddenly suffered 20%+ unemployment

I believed that if only I put in enough hours I would be able to make everyone happy. I was wrong.

I kind of believed that because I was the best (which maybe I was) the trick was to try to do the jobs of all my subordinates, or at least check up very closely. This was not such a clever way of working.


I had helped persuade families to arrange 'interventions' for people addicted either to alcohol or to other drugs (legal or prescription) or to gambling. It had not occurred to me that a 'workaholic' might need an intervention’. I was wrong. Neither did I fully pick up on what happened at home

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Jane’s Story:

I knew that my lover’s job was very important. Somehow I got infected with the ‘workaholic’ condition. I had, I guess, 4 jobs. I was a householder and Tabby’s partner. I was the parent, almost equally, of my daughter Ruby and Tabby’s child Clemency.

I had two paid jobs, both very rewarding. I owned and ran a modest used bookshop in the next town and I worked for a publisher. Both jobs had the potential of almost unlimited hours. Over a year and as half I allowed my hours of ‘work’ to go up and up. That meant that I spent much less time with Ruby and Clemency.

Even when she was ‘home’ Tabby was usually reading or working on files. She spent a lot of her time telephoning on behalf or ‘clients’ even at weekends.

All too often I was asleep before Tabby got to bed and still asleep when my beloved got up in the morning.

I was supposed to be in charge of family finances. Very luckily we had a regular bankers order for the mortgage repayments.

Five times we came close to having electricity, gas or water cut off. It was not that the money was not there; it was just that either being there for customers at my shop or reading the work of potential published authors

Then there were 2 disasters. We had a fire in the kitchen. It should not have been too bad, we had insurance. (Except that you need to send off the check to keep your insurance cover.) Of course I had not sent off that check.

The next Tuesday the telephone did not work. I had not paid the bill. I ignored red bills. In those days we did not have cell phones. Access to a phone at home was vital for both Tabby and I (also pretty crucial for the social life of Ruby and Clemency, who were not THAT abnormal as teenagers.)

It took Tabby two hours and a trip to the post office with a lot of actual cash to get the telephone reconnected. That meant that she was that much later home (because of course she did her real job)

Clemency and Ruby talked to me about our friend Tracy,

I guess I kind of knew that young Tracy was in charge of the Taylor family. Tabby had even told me that she got the benefit money when neither was working. (I did not then realize that Tracy kept control of the money even after her Mum had got a job.)

I saw how upset the girls were. Somehow I agreed to have our family run like Tracy’s.

It was fair enough that Clemency, who was good at that sort of thing, would work out rotas for chores (and who would do them if Tabby was not able to.) I did not mind all that much giving up one job.

Ruby had looked at the (financial) books of my bookshop. My net profit was maybe 2p an hour on the work I did at the bookshop and it had great capital value. I was lucky. Neil and Luke, in their sixties with a good pension, had inherited money from an aunt and wondered what to do with their time. Running the bookshop was just what they needed

By the way the guys managed to make the bookshop profitable by shifting the shop to be a specialized Science Fiction and detective story place and mostly doing work by mail order. (Years later when the Internet got started they actually needed more room.)

I would do no more than 35 hours for the publisher. I would then actually be home at normal times.

Now Tabby was not my first love. I always knew that I loved women more than men and (in a different way) always loved children. Ruby has met her biological father a few times but the deal was that he would mainly be a sperm donor.

Jessica had actually liked to experiment a LOT with love. I had, therefore, experienced as much spanking as an adult as a child. It was never very much. I now realize that the times I was over Jessica’s knees I got ‘good girl’ spankings.

It did still feel very strange when Ruby said that she should spank me. Still it was not quite as shocked as others might have been. I did indeed feel bad. Nancy told us how her spankings were quite effective at dealing with guilt feelings.

Luckily the only audience for my first spanking was Clemency. I now know that my first ‘punishment spanking’ as an adult was mild, if a bit long.

I think Ruby may have been as nervous as I was. She pulled down my jeans, but left my panties on. I took up the position

Then smack. SMACK…

I found out later it lasted for 20 minutes. It stung a lot but was not bad enough for me to feel a need to either struggle or to cry.

If anything I felt more humiliated at being put into the corner. At this point my panties did come down.

Tracy (Cont) :

It pleased me that a Social worker’s partner would go over her daughter’s lap for a spanking. I had come to the conclusion that my way of running a family was the best if a teenager was smart and responsible (as Clemency and Ruby certainly were.) I guess I was a bit shocked to discover that not only did Ruby not use a hairbrush but also she let her mother keep her panties on, at least until corner time.

I told Ruby this.

I had found that I had to remind people more often about chores. It was true that I didn’t often need to go beyond that and take the hairbrush to Lori, Paul and Caroline. I decided that so many reminders were still too much work. One Sunday lunchtime I announced:

“From now on you will not get reminders about chores. If you forget a chore you’ll get a spanking. It will only be by hand at first but if I have to remind you twice in a week panties will come down and the third time the hairbrush will come out.”

Twice that week Lori forgot things. That very evening she did not take her turn at the dishes when she should. Up went her dress. Down came her panties

Smack, smack, smack…”

This spanking only lasted a couple of minutes. I actually got some cries out of my stepsister without even needing the hairbrush.

On Tuesday the shopping was not done. Again Lori went over my knees. This time I pulled down her panties. I liked the feel as I saw my hand redden her butt. I used all my energy and got cries and kicks out of the 20 year old.

On both occasions I insisted on curtsies and thanks from the naughty girl.


With Paul, who forgot the ironing, I still told him to lean over the sofa. I used a lot of energy and I am sure I really hurt his bum with my hand on his rather thin underpants.

Caroline was a rather good girl that summer. All her chores were done. Paul had found a job.

By this summer, 1984, I was 18 and Lori 20. We both applied for colleges. I got into the very prestigious London School of Economics. Lori, whose exam results were not so good, got into the much less famous Thames Polytechnic.


Tabby (cont):

I now realize that I needed what happened but at the time it was incredibly humiliating. It was one thing for a troubled family like Tracy’s to have such a drastic solution. I guess Fred needed someone taking charge.

I felt that I was far too important to the needs of the people of Oldborough to be responsible to anyone. I guess my job actually blinded me to stuff. I always believed that poor parenting was not simply a problem for poor folk. I remember giving a huge lecture to a bank manager who, with her doctor husband hardly ever saw her sons aged 8 and 10. I now think that if I could have seen me properly I would have given myself a long lecture on not neglecting my family

Still just then, I did not think of how little Clemency, Ruby and indeed Jane saw of me. Our family needed changes but I did not want to face how much I needed a break from my work and other responsibilities.


Edith Rathbone:

I was director of Social Services for the County in 1984. I had been for 16 years. Although Social Work is a very female profession not so many women headed any kind of County Council department back then.

I was 67 then. I am large and tall. I think my age also gave me an authority. I had (and still have) huge respect for Ms Brown (Tabby). (I never felt comfortably about calling an adult by a nickname and I am always Miss Rathbone.)

Everyone in the Oldborough office told me that Miss Brown was stressed. She had on a few occasions really lost it and yelled at junior colleagues. She was tired- working 100 hour weeks will do that.

The truth is that our staff at Oldborough was pretty good. Yes Miss Brown would probably do a better job in supporting any given family than almost any of her colleagues. However if she tried either to do or at least closely monitor everyone else’s work she would, and did, make mistakes.

There was very nearly a disaster. As luck would happen a 17-year-old lad who was an admin temp spotted it, Miss Brown screamed at him. I was in the next office. Fifteen minutes later I heard her apologizing

“Frank, I was wrong and you were right. I nearly had an innocent guy arrested and warned the man who was raping a little girl. And even if you were wrong I should not have yelled.”

I talked to her about the error a bit later. She promised to improve things. Still two hours later I heard her yelling at another colleague.

I checked on Miss Brown’s leave. She had not taken any for over three years. She was owed about 11 weeks leave.

I visited Miss Brown’s home. I envied that she was able to be open of her love for Jane. My aunts could not admit their love. I knew that to be a ‘career girl’ from the 1930s (I was born in 1917) I could not marry or have any kind of love affair with anyone.

“Unlike Miss Brown I trust my subordinates. My plan is to have my deputy take over at County hall and I will essentially fill in for Miss Brown for say six weeks. What I need is for her to spend some time without ANY responsibilities..”

I was a bit surprised when 14-year-old Clemency said:

“I know about adults losing responsibilities, it can be very good for them.”

I thought I saw a frown on Jane’s face as she nodded.

I did not know all the details of what would happen on Taylor Abigail Brown’s 7-week vacation. If I had known at the time I would have had nothing to do with it. Later I wished that I could give Ruby, Clemency and Tracy a similar role at work, or better yet in dealing with irresponsible grandstanding elected Councillors.

I did know that the head of the Oldborough Social Services office would be driven to a cottage more than a mile from any neighbor. I knew that she would be told that there was no telephone service. (Actually they had thought of emergencies. Other people would have a key to the drawer with the telephone, which could be plugged in if, need be.)

I knew I was close to having a staff member kidnapped. Furthermore not only would Jane and Ruby keep control of the car keys but also Jane had changed the insurance so that for the time being it would NOT be legal for ‘Tabby’ to drive her lover’s vehicle.


Tabby (Continued):

It was, I thought, a normal Tuesday. I had been at the office until 8.30 pm the previous night. I talked a little to Clemency and Jane but mostly I had my nose in files. I went to bed at about half past midnight. Jane was asleep. She was still asleep when I got up at 6.15 am. I had three cups of coffee and cereal for breakfast.

I was in the office well before 8am. I saw a note on my desk (this was before e-mails) saying that Miss Rathbone would be at our office and would like to talk to me.

I knocked on the door of the office Miss Rathbone was using a minute before 9am. A chair was indicated. I had then, and still have, huge respect for Edith Rathbone. She was one of the best public servants I had met (and that includes me). I now realize, but did not at the time, that she had a huge knowledge of needs of colleagues.

“You prefer to be called Tabby…”

I nodded.

“I have been checking your staff file. I think you have had about 8 days leave in the last five years.”

It was true. There was always a lot to do and it was rarely convenient to take time off.

“You have also lost your temper a few times ….”

I slowly nodded. Edith Rathbone went on:

“And often with people who did not deserve it…”

I could not and did not deny it. Then came the shock.

“Do you think that your lack of leave and your temper problem are linked?”

I did not answer. I did not quite know what was happening.

“Well I am sure that you NEED some leave. You need to relax and be away from responsibilities. So I need details of your cases and the key ones you are monitoring…”

I thought for a few seconds

“I think I could get that sorted by the end of the month..”

My boss shook her head

“Well your leave starts this afternoon. I do not want you in the office or doing any work for the next 7 weeks.”

I kind of made Miss Rathbone’s point. I stamped my feet and shouted

“That’s Crazy!”

I also managed to spill coffee on my pants. I paused

“Miss Rathbone, I am sure that you understand that we are VERY busy in Oldborough with the economic situation a lot of families have crises. We are not able to be one Social Worker down let alone a supervisor who also…”

I then saw my boss look down at me. I stopped talking:

“Taylor Abigail Brown I am not asking you I am telling you. I have in fact arranged for a deputy to act up as County Director of Social Services whilst I supervise here. Furthermore I have managed to get an extra Social Worker allocated permanently to Oldborough.

“I have also chatted to Jane. She has done a lot of work. She had made all the arrangements for you to have a truly relaxing vacation with absolutely NO responsibilities. That is what you need.

“By the way if you do not take the time off I can, and if forced to WILL take your refusal to accept instructions as a disciplinary issue”

For the following 6 hours I was even more of a workaholic than usual. I looked at 30 files of my own and 128 for colleagues. I made a lot of phone calls. I was a bit surprised when I saw Jane arrive at my office.

I had not even realized the extent to which my love partner had already wound down her paid work. Edith was there. Jane took my hand and told me:

“Miss Rathbone has told me how much you NEED a vacation. I too need some time away from work. I have made all the arrangements, this way.”

I was used to being in control but did not resist. In some places just holding Jane’s hand was an affirmation of love and a political act. Now, it was clear, I was being led.

Because I had not been due to make any visits that day I had gone to work by bus. My car was at home. I had seen Jane’s new (well 7 year old but new to her) station wagon (or estate car). I noticed that the last seats had been removed and that we had a lot of luggage. I was more than a little surprised to see Tracy in the front seat next to the driver. Clemency got out of the middle seat on the right.

By the way I am just less than five foot tall and then weighed maybe a hundred pounds. It you had seen us in the vehicle and had known it was a lesbian couple and kids you would not only have assumed that I was one of the kids but also that I was the youngest.

“In you go Tabby..”

I obeyed my daughter. I was thus sitting between my daughter and stepdaughter. I was totally stuck. Shortly after we started driving Tracy explained:

“Tabby, I really like you but you do NEED a total break. So I helped to plan this with Clemency and Jane, don’t worry about luggage, we have all you will need.”

The car journey lasted nearly three hours, even though most of it was at 68 miles an hour on motorways. At half past five I noticed that the rural roads we were on got narrower and worse. Finally we drove down a long track.

I saw a pretty, well from the outside beautiful, old cottage with a thatched roof. It had a nice garden too.

Jane cooked for herself and Ruby. Tabby did a meal for herself, Clemency and I. Ruby made comments about the ‘poor pig’ whose parts I was eating. The desert was a vegetarian jell-O, which we could all enjoy and none of us felt guilty about. Clemency explained things:

“Tabby, we all love you. We have been disappointed at never seeing you. I have also heard that putting in so many hours is not best for you at work. So we are all agreed that you should have NO responsibilities during this vacation.”

I interrupted

“I have not agreed to this…”

Tracy then explained

“We don’t think that you know what you NEED so this is an intervention, you know the same for a workaholic as for an alcoholic…”

I was shocked, I did not like the analogy at all. The Clemency went on.

“It will NOT be possible for you to get phone calls..”

As I said this was before cell phones or the Internet and e-mails.

“We have a television but there is no aerial. We have selected lots some suitable VCRs.”

Then Tracy said:

“We should have a fairly early night. Tabby you should have her bath first…”

I was twenty past seven on an early August evening. I put my foot down:

“This is a ridiculous time for having a bath and getting ready for bed.”

Tracy, who was by then better than a foot taller than I was and more than a hundred pound heavier than me, (mostly muscle rather than fat) stood up. She pulled me and my chair away from the table then she picked me up and, despite some resistance carried me upstairs.

Clemency went ahead of us. By the time we reached the rather large bathroom my 14-year-old daughter had put on the faucet. Tracy removed my shoes, I guess so I could not do any damage if I kicked, which I tried to do

“Clem, dear, I think little Tabby needs to be undressed ready for her bath.”

I tried to struggle but the giantess had hold of my body and arms. I shouted:

“Stop this you crazy bitches…”

Stil,l first my pants, then my panties were removed by my 14-year-old daughter. With little more difficulty, given the way Tracy restrained me, my child undid the buttons on my blouse. (Clemency was maybe a little bit bigger than me but she would not have been able to overpower me without help.)

I watched the bath fill. Then Tracy said:

“If I have to hold you down for all your undressing and bath little one you’ll be punished more. So I will let go so that Clem can get you undressed and give you your bath.”

I did as I was bid. I let my daughter move my arms so that she could take off my blouse. She then undid my bra, I felt very embarrassed but let it slide. I was told to lift my feet and my daughter pulled my socks off.

A half a minute later Tracy returned. She was wearing a long plastic apron and carrying another. I stood there totally naked before an 18 year old and my 14-year-old daughter. Tracy handed the apron to her daughter and then said:

“This child is a bit big, we should put her into the bath together.”

The two of them picked me up and put me into the bath as if I were a baby. Clemency soaped the washcloth and gently and kindly washed everywhere. Well I thought she had done everywhere. It was actually quite nice. (Years later Jane and I found that baths together were a wonderful start to when we wanted adult fun, but that night I was NOT being an adult.)

I did not resist. I was actually quite scared of Tracy. Ruby and Jane both popped in and watched, the bathroom door was left open. Tracy came in and took away my clothes saying:

“I don’t think you’ll be needing these until we get back to Oldborough.”

Then I saw my ‘jammies. Tracy had them over her arms. They were rather childish with cute pictures of elephants on them.

I was in for a shock after what had been a quite pleasant bath. I saw my daughter again soaping the washcloth.

“There’s one really dirty part of you that needs washing Tabby…”

I did not know what she meant. Then I did

“Taylor Abigail Brown, we need to get the dirty words out so open your mouth.”

I kept my mouth closed. There was a struggle. Tracy joined Clemency. My nose was held. Clemency spent a long time thoroughly washing my mouth including the palate, the tongue, under the tongue and my gums, as well as my actual teeth.

At last Clemency said:

“Let’s get the naughty girl out of the bath.”

Tracy helped her to get me out. Then my daughter said:

“Are you going to be a bad girl or will you let Aunt Clem dry you and put you into your nice jammies?”

I did not resist either being dried or having childish pajamas put on me. Clemency took my hand and, slightly to my surprise we were taken down stairs. I was really wishing I would get a chance to rinse out my soapy mouth.

When we finally got back to the living room Tracy, Jane and Ruby were all sitting down. There was couch where Clemency had positioned herself. My daughter then told me about what was to happen next:

“Taylor Abigail Brown, you are supposed to be my Mom and sort of Ruby’s. You’re supposed to be Jane’s partner but you have neglected all of us. You need punishing. So please go over my knees so I can spank you.”

I guess I should have realized where we were leading but the word and the thought shocked me.

“This is ridiculous, I am NOT going to let you spank me.”

Clem then patted her knees and said

“Last chance Mom.”

I ignored her. Then Tracy picked me up. In seconds I was deposited over my 14 year old’s knees. Tracy had firm control of my hands and arms. Clemency pulled down my pajama pants. Ruby handed Clemency a hairbrush.

Whap!

WHAP!

WHAP!

WHAP!!

WHAP!!

It seemed to go on forever, and I was later told it lasted fifteen minutes. But all I could do was just feel the pain as the heavy hairbrush collided with my bottom again and again. I kicked and cried like a very little kid.

The only good thing was that it kind of took my mind off the soapy taste in my mouth.

At last it was over, well sort of over. Clemency said

“Now you can stand in that corner for half an hour then you can rinse your mouth and I will take you to your bedroom.”

It was a relief but the next bit was a shock.

“If you use nasty words or lie again you will not get a chance to rinse your mouth for at least three hours after it has been soaped, and that could mean overnight. Oh and you need to learn to accept spanking when they are needed. So tomorrow morning, before I dress you Tracy will give you a spanking.

“I think that will help you to remember in future.”

I stood there for what felt like MUCH longer than the 30 minutes. I could feel the pain on my rear and still taste the powerful acrid soap. Of course my pajama pants were down and I seemed to feel people looking at my red derriere. As I thought about it I thought of the irony of my spanking having been given by a young lady called ‘Clemency’. It did not seem to me that she was living up to her name.

I was very glad at the end of corner time to be allowed to totally rinse out my mouth. I let my daughter lead me upstairs. Then I saw the room. It had a canopy bed and seemed to be decorated for an especially girlish six year old.