This entry from Jane's Diary comes from 1983, it's the story of how our charity nights in our local pub -- which all involved a great deal of nudity -- came to get started.
I should say that while I'm all in favour of getting myself into embarrassing situations, and would wear an ENF t-shirt with pride (before throwing it into a crowd of onlookers) I am not, and never have been, in favour of humiliating either me or anyone else. No punishment, shaving, spanking or whatever. So I surprised myself this time round.
We -- me, my husband Jim, my best friend Helen, her fiancé Dave and Dave's kid sister Fiona were regulars at the White Horse, which was managed by a young Australian woman, Julie, who was pretty much as up for anything as we were. The pub was generally referred to by locals as the Cock Inn, as it was where girls on a night out would go to meet lads, usually with that satisfactory result.
The Sunday afternoon in question was just a few days after Jim and I returned from our honeymoon, and I suppose the fact that I hadn't done or said anything even mildly outrageous since our return contributed to what happened. I'm a redhead, and I don't tan in the sun, it just gives me more freckles than usual. Some of the chat in the pub that afternoon was along the lines of "no tan, Jane? Spent the entire two weeks in bed?" -- the usual sort of thing. I've always got a response to remarks like that and there was a lot of backchat and laughter with some guys from the golf club.
I was telling Helen (with the golf club guys listening in) about the time I decided to suck my new husband off on the beach in broad daylight only to be interrupted by the arrival of two police officers at the crucial moment. Female officers, fortunately -- always more understanding than men and all that happened was a suggestion that we be more discreet in future. But this chap I didn't know turned to my husband and said "Do you always let your wife behave like that?" His reply being that he didn't "let" me do anything, I was an adult and responsible for my own behaviour. "Well, if she was my wife, she'd get a good spanking!" Wow! What year is this, 1983 or 1953?
"No chance!" I said. At which point Fiona intervened with "Julia's got a collection going for a wheelchair for the old folks' home, and she's £20 short of her target. So if you give her the £20, you get to give Jane a spanking." My jaw dropped, and for once I was speechless. But the guy backed off at that (the average weekly wage would have been around £160 - £170 at that time). I was saved from embarrassment, or so I thought. But Julia had decided this was too good an opportunity to miss, so "Come on guys, surely there's one of you willing to pay that to see Jane bent over a table with her panties round her ankles!" Turned out there was. One of the golf club guys, a lawyer, so probably fairly well off, took a £20 from his wallet and handed it to Julia, to a round of applause from the company -- including my husband, I might add.
Nothing for it but to go ahead -- I couldn't say no when the money was for a good cause. Fiona hadn't finished, though. "The spanking will be done in private." Pause. Except for those who pay Julia £1 for her collection!" Needless to say, they all paid and stayed, except for the guy who had objected -- no surprise there. So there was an audience of around 30, mostly men but about 8 women, and Jim, Dave and Helen. (I can't believe Fiona charged my husband £1 to see me getting stripped and spanked! But he readily paid up.)
Helen and Fiona grabbed me, pulled my dress up over my head and off, leaving me standing in just my shoes and panties. Time for me to stop feeling embarrassed and take control of the situation, I think. I stood in the middle of the room and invited the lawyer to remove my panties, which he did to another round of applause. I was starting to love this now, I've always had a thing for being the only one naked in a crowd. I picked my panties off the floor, stuffed them in his jacket pocket, and said "Keep these safe for me."
