Part 2.  The Womanly Virtues "blessing".



Another Sternly Strict Teacher was Miss Kerr and I was really glad I wasn't in
Her class. She was always strapping boys with Her "Loch Gelly Strap". I had
seen the marks on the boys' hands and vowed to keep clear of Her. However, I
was caught with several boys involved in a playground misdemeanor and Miss
Kerr walked out and shouted, "RIGHT! - YOU FOUR - UP TO MY ROOM - RIGHT NOW! "
I was terrified! Miss Kerr was worse than Miss Mackie! She had come up from
behind and had given me quite a fright when She shouted. My heart had just
about jumped into my mouth! Perhaps the spirits of fear, weakness and
helplessness entered at that moment. These spirits started manifesting their
natures in my trembling and my knees were literally shaking as we waited
outside for Her arrival. When I saw Her striding towards us, Her nylon
flower-printed house-coat flaring around Her, Her whole face just glaring Her
manifested rage, obviously unable to contain Her anger until She could get Her
strap in Her hand, I burst into tears. We all got the strap, diligently
applied to our upturned palms. It didn't seem to be as bad as I had expected.
Perhaps She relented somewhat because I'd cried like a wimpy girl - before the
discipline. Perhaps that was when the spirit of wimpiness and weeping had
entered. Somehow the story got back to my teacher, Miss Gallacher and either
Miss Kerr or Miss Mackie had advised Her about the benefits of the heavy "Loch
Gelly Straps". Anyhow, She purchased the heavier strap but used it only for
the boys, increasing my sense of indignation. In the rare cases where a Girl
was strapped it was with the soft black strap. My sense of unfairness and
unjust retribution grew daily. I still got the strap almost every day,
sometimes several times a day, but now, for some reason, I could not withold
tears and found myself weeping every single time. It seemed that Miss
Gallacher was making up for all the time She'd lost and was blaming me for
anything that went wrong even when it was nothing to do with me! The pain of
the strappings was bad enough, but when my heartthrob Penelope sneered that I
was "just like a girl" because I cried so much I was crushed even more. I
still played soccer with the boys every lunch hour and would come into class
flushed with the exertion. Miss Gallacher decided that I was exerting myself
far too much and decreed that from now on I must report to the classroom right
after eating and stay indoors during the breaks. The only others who chose to
stay indoors for lunch were some of the Girls who didn't want to get mucky in
the playground. So I was stuck with only Girls for companions at lunch. I
wonder now if it was some kind of conspiracy of demons. Certainly the Teachers
seemed to be in cohoots.

One time in Miss Mackie's class, when She wasn't looking, I gently tickled the
Girl in front of me in a friendly way. I suppose that the Girls had learned
that they didn't need to take any nonsense from any boy in Miss Mackie's class
- and certainly not from the likes of me! The Girl tattled and I was really
scared but Miss Mackie smiled sweetly and said "what a good idea! Now you put
your chair in front of Suzy's and we'll let you see what it feels like to be
poked at. " So there I was again being humiliated in front of the whole class,
being prodded in the rump by a pointer kindly supplied to the Girl by Miss
Mackie. At one point I put my hands down and made a guard for my buttocks but
the Girl complained to Miss Mackie and I was made to sit with my hands on my
head while the Girl took Her revenge. I could tell from the giggling every
time I was poked that all the Girls were enjoying my discomfiture. My face was
scarlet and somebody called me Scarlett O'Hara, which I thought was rather
unkind. Looking back, I'm surprised I didn't respond with name-calling or the
like. Or maybe my alter ego just doesn't remember.

I did try to be assertive in some ways and one time when we were being taught
how to sing cooperative parts in a fancy song, I noticed that the Teacher
seemed to be mixing up the parts so I sang when I thought the music score was
directing. At one point this meant I was singing with the Girls. Of course
Miss Mackie noticed and batting her eyelids politely she said (looking at me)
"will Miss Hansomson please stand up?" I stood up sheepishly and Miss Mackie
smilingly announced "We have a new girl in the class. Let me introduce Miss
Hansomson". She seemed to be joking and playful, and, relieved that I wasn't
getting into trouble I smiled back at her, feeling the hot blush arising on my
face. I did not realize She was probably trying to embarrass me into better or
modified behavior and the smile on my face was probably received as a
challenge to Her methods of correction. Continuing to smile pleasantly She
then proceeded to threaten me that She'd make me sit in the Girls part of the
choir. Because of Her demeanor and the discomfiture of my embarrassment and
the redness I could feel burning up to my ears, I just smiled back at Her.
This seemed to encourage Her even more! and She explained that She'd have to
dress me appropriately in a pretty dress and then She would have to tie a
pretty pink ribbon in my hair. I know She went on and on for about five
minutes telling me how She planned to feminize me but my memory has blanked it
all out, so great was the effect of Her words on my vulnerable ears. No doubt
some splintered part of one of my alter egos would still be able to recall if
it could be found, but I can actually remember blanking out the "pain" of the
embarrassment. I only remember that I had remained red-faced and smiling
throughout Her dissertation. She did make me sit with the Girls for the choir
and always called me by the name "Miss Hansomson" thereafter. I almost got
used to it but always blushed when Miss Mackie spoke directly to me. I don't
know how She got away with it except that I was too embarrassed to tell my
parents. She also explained to me that when we called the Teachers "Miss" that
it was actually short for "Mistress" and to remember that whenever speaking to
Her.

Perhaps all this has caused me to develop feelings of unfairness and a kind of
inner resentment for Feminine Authority manifesting in what is known as Male
Chauvinism. I used to constantly refuse to do "women's work" and tried to act
as macho as possible as all times. I blamed Women for everything that went
wrong. I would see a bad driver and exclaim "Humph! Women drivers!" If someone
showed that the driver was a man I would say, "Well his Mother must have
taught him to drive!" then laugh triumphantly at my joke. All this time I had
a beautiful mother who was wise and kind and loving and always wanted to be
hugging us all. Perhaps that is why I have so much hidden respect for women in
general and the feminine in particular. But I'd never admit it! Mum never
seemed to need to discipline us and I cannot remember ever being smacked by
her. When she passed away it was as if a part of me had died too. I was about
23 years old at the time.

Mum was the eldest of four sisters and had received some kind of religious
so-called "blessing of womanly virtues" that always passed to the eldest
daughter in the line. Mum apparently was quite disappointed that she never had
a daughter to hand on the "blessings" to. Apparently some benevolent spirits
were passed on to her when her grandmother had died. It was from some kind of
religious club that she had taken part in when young. It was something akin to
"Job's daughters" or the female equivalent of the "Masons". I learned later
that I had been struggling for years to suppress these effeminate
characteristics that had been passed on to me when Mum died. When I was still
a child I remember having a dream where a spirit told me to choose what sex I
would be, either a Girl or a boy. I saw a vision of a really pretty dress
being offered to me. It was like a pink party frock with ruffles and lace. It
seemed like a very attractive proposition in the dream but I thought about it
and about the fact that God had formed me as a boy and that is what I still
was, so I chose to remain masculine. The spirits didn't give up and had been
trying to prepare me for being feminized all my life, working through the
Teachers and Female relatives etc. Oh yes, relatives. We were often sent to
spend the summer holidays with my grandmother's aunts who lived in the country
and they played their part, but that's another story.

I had inherited spirits. Masochistic and effeminate spirits that had entered
in childhood training through attempts at behavior modification, and now I had
to contend with extra so-called "Womanly Virtue" spirits passed on from mum's
involvement in her Girl's religious club. I remained fascinated with Womanhood
and feminine things and got a kick out of watching any kind of Feminine
actions, such as applying their make-up or mincing along in high heels or
their limp-wristed waving etc. One way I fought these effeminate tendencies
was by constantly making Male Chauvinist remarks. I loved smacking Girls on
the backside. I developed my muscles through martial arts etc. I got on well
with many Women, probably because I was obviously jesting and everything was
done in a humorous spirit. Some Women of course took offense. I remember one
Feminist Lady I conversed with who got really uptight about my "attitude" in
discussing the so-called "Woman's Liberation Movement". She was involved with
some New- Age Feminist Group that practiced some kind of so-called magic. She
"prophesied" with a triumphant smile that I would learn to crawl to the Woman
"and what's more, she continued smugly, you'll enjoy it!" I already had hidden
desires to equate with some Woman in this way but I was suppressing them as
best as I knew how. I didn't know that all of this was mostly caused by
inherited spirits. Her words gave me a small rush of adrenaline but I didn't
pursue anything with Her or anyone at that time. I'm sure She cast one of Her
spells on me - more daemons to deal with! It was strange that, whenever I'd
meet some Girl who seemed to be "the one" - whenever I seemed to be falling in
love - the Girl's family would move away and no lasting relationship ever
seemed to come to fruition. I had several budding relationships broken like
this. One in particular was with a visiting Australian Lady called Miki Van
Vainhuff. - No kidding! We were in the house alone after dinner and I joked
about "woman's work" and that She could do the dishes. She was oh so o
beautiful, but She got a sternly determined look in Her eyes - obviously a
manifestation of a Feminist spirit- and persuaded me by force of character to
start washing the dishes for Her. She even took a flowery pinafore and tried
physically to force me to wear it while doing Her bidding, but I held Her arms
and wouldn't go that far. This was all done in good humored playfulness and
She settled for leaning on the wall with folded arms, smiling triumphantly
while I took care of all the "woman's work". That was the nearest I ever came
to falling in love Hollywood style but when She returned to Australia after a
few letters we stopped corresponding. She probably got fed up with my
"Attitude Jokes" that were uncorrectable by letter. In later life I often
agonized that I had lost contact with such a beautiful Person of such
interesting possibilities. She was as loving as Mum but as provocatively
dominating as Miss Mackie dominates. I didn't understand that a combination of
childhood trauma and inherited spirits were forcing me into a state of
yearning for Female domination, forced feminization and submission to that
which my outward self (that part of my character I chose to display publicly)
found an intolerable proposition for my life.

I then met a Lady who really was controlling and manipulative in an
old-fashioned "take care of me" style. When She pushed to marry this macho
man, I told Her what I was struggling with inside, expecting to deter Her. She
used this knowledge as a manipulating tool to get Her way. I learned
afterwards that She had inherited manipulation spirits from her mother and
religious spirits from Her religion. They all wanted control without
domination. She tried to control a macho man by manipulation and guilt, which
just caused constant bickering. At a church we visited they offered to "cast
the demons out of us" but neither of us was willing to consider that
possibility at that time. The very concept seemed to make her enraged. We
ended up divorced.

I spent about the next five years fighting the spirits inside, and probably
some outside influences too, until the thoughts and yearnings got too much too
contain.

With trepidation, despising myself for my own weaknesses, I found myself
calling on a professional Dom but they wanted more than an hour at a time.
They wanted to manifest in a full-time submissive life-style. Because of my
finances at that time I had to offer all kinds of services to my Dom friends
to fill in the times between paychecks. I did get very friendly with several
Doms over the next few years and I must admit that underneath that strict
exterior I could see beautiful Ladies that also had needs to be respected and
loved. The former need they demanded, the latter need they usually pretended
wasn't there. I tried to do whatever the Dom of the moment desired. One time I
found myself blindfolded, lying on my stomach on a bed with my limbs fastened
to the bedposts. I had to say "I admit that women are superior to men - one, I
admit that women are superior to men - two, I admit that women are superior to
men- three" and so on, to a count of a hundred and fifty times. I had no idea
when or if She was listening to me as She went through to another room and
warned me to keep it up -"or else!" It got a little tedious and I felt a
little foolish and I was dutifully saying what She had instructed with only a
little bit of enthusiasm, my thoughts drifting off as I mechanically repeated
the phrase over and over and- THWACK! - OW! There She was, shouting at my ear
"Not enough enthusiasm! - You'll say it and you'll really mean it!" THWACK,
"OWEE!" THWACK! " OH! Ouch! Please!" THWACK!THWACK! THWACK! "AARGH! -Oh Please
Mistress, I'm sorry! Please -Women ARE definitely superior to men! - Please,
I'm sorry!" I felt quite humiliated as She said condescendingly, "That's
slightly better, now, let's go, starting from the beginning again" She then
tied my balls with a cord to the open door, so that when I moved the door
would creak. She did other things too. How can one know if someone is there or
watching TV in another room when one's ears are covered? Knowing for the most
part that I was alone, repeating my correctional phrase most vigorously to an
empty room made me feel very silly indeed. Of course several times during the
session I felt a crop or something encouraging me with the ever-present
reality of a possible continuance of punishment should I slacken again. The
next day my back was black and blue from my shoulders to the backs of my
knees. Though I got some satisfaction from the session I didn't feel that
Mistress wanted anything but the money. She wasn't able to bring any real
tears of real repentance or instill a better attitude in me. I wanted some
kind of life-style relationship on a reciprocal basis. I never went back.

There were other Mistresses in the world.

I was getting deeper into the lifestyle and couldn't seem to stop myself.

Continued as part 3