On AMC TV there was a series “Mad Men” that aired during the summer and fall of 2007.  It was set in the spring to fall of 1960 and focused on an advertising firm located in midtown Manhattan.  The series illustrated that the “Fifties” sucked just as much as some of us recollected they did.  But it also demonstrated that in a world that peddled things that were not actually real, nothing could be trusted to be what it seemed to be.  MadAvAdMen describes an alternative universe where the distortions of Mad Men are carried to even greater extremes.  If you thought that women in Mad Men were repressed and exploited, think again!  Don’t expect everything to be identical to Mad Men, in most cases things are worse.  This series of stories focuses on yet another character – Betty Draper – from Mad Men as we learn what life is like for the wives and daughters of Sterling-Cooper (or is it Cooper-Sterling).  But don’t worry Joan and Peggy will get to make appearances in this series as well.

The Therapist

Dr Wayne sat back in his chair, scribbling in his notebook. “A most vexacious patient.  Honestly, a spoiled brat become a spoiled wife and a spoiled mother.”  We examine what goes on in the inner office during a “fifty minute hour”.

Patient, “Honestly Dr. Wayne, my depression is returning”

Therapist, “What does it feel like”.

Patient, “My energy is gone.  I get up in the morning and it is all I can do to get the girls out the door to school.  I don’t even have the energy to change out of my nightgown and robe into my clothes.  I am too tired to make myself lunch and it is only after noon that I can even think of going shopping.  I feel negative about everything.  When the girls come home from school I don’t want to hear anything that they have to say.  About all I can say to them is ‘go to your room and start your homework’.  At the least bit of backtalk they get marked down for Discipline.  Any failure to do a chore, marked down for Discipline.  A low grade on a homework or a quiz, marked down for Discipline.  When I am really in a funk, when they get home from school I make them disrobe completely and kneel at the table in the family room in the basement to do their homework.  They know that this means that when their father gets home they will suffer Discipline. 

And my husband has less interest in me than he has in the dog.”

Therapist, “Um, hum”.

Patient, “Every evening with supper I have a glass of wine.  Then Donald doesn’t come home in time for supper with the girls.  So I eat with the girls and send them off to bathe and go to bed.   Then I clean up supper.  And I sit in the basement in the family room and finish the bottle of wine while I watch TV.  Maybe I get back into my nightgown and robe and slipper.  That’s if I ever got out of them at all.  Maybe I open another bottle of wine while I wait for him to get home.  Some nights he never makes it home.  Some nights I open a third bottle of wine.  Am I becoming an alcoholic?”

Therapist, “What do you think”

Patient, “I just want him to stop working late and pay some attention to me.  You know I have my needs, I have my fantasies.  I know he has made partner at an age so young that it is scandalous.  He provides anything I ask for.  I get a new car every other year.  This year we got a new summer house.  But I wonder if he really loves me anymore.  I am the one that has to give  Discipline to the girls while he sits and watches.  And then maybe he will roger me.  Once a week our Disciplinary Circle meets and each of us wives have to Discipline the other wives.  A different house each week.  A different piece of Disciplinary furniture each week.  A different Disciplinary Implement each week.  But basically the same old shit.  The only times he really seems interested in sex is at our weekly Disciplines and then it is usually only after he has serviced some of the other wives.  Usually either Francine or Helen or Trudy.  And I have been serviced by Francine’s husband or Helen’s new husband.  He usually has no interest in having me after I have been had by Peter.  But then I hate being had by Peter.  All the wives hate being had by Peter.  I just don’t know where my life is going.”

Therapist, “Um, hum”.

Patient, “Doctor, do you think I need another course of VID?  The last one seemed to really pick me up but now I have gone flat again.   I know that it is hard, and expensive, and well, very, very painful.  But afterwards Donald seems to really love me again.  At least for a couple of weeks.  Is it too soon for another VID?”

Therapist, “How do you feel about VID.”

Patient, “Well to begin with, I am scared of it.  I feel so naked and vulnerable and helpless.  And the treatment itself is very painful.  I mean you can’t imagine how painful it is.  You would have to be a woman to even begin to understand what VID is like.  And afterwards I am sore for almost two weeks.  It hurts and I am tender and when Donald makes love to me it hurts really bad.  And I am swollen in my most private parts.  It is all really horrible.  But Donald really enjoys making love to me after VID and I do admit that once I get past the pain I get the wildest reactions to Donald’s love making.  What do you call them?”

Therapist, “Orgasms”

Patient, “Yes, Orgasms.  The wildest orgasms.  I’ve talked with Francine about it.  You know that she has recently had VID.  Yes, but of course, you are also her Psychiatrist aren’t you.  But she has had similar experiences.  She told me that she really didn’t know what an orgasm was until after she had a VID and then had sex.  Why is it that men make such violent love to women after they have had VID.  Is it because our outer parts are swollen.  Or is it because we are so sore that when they enter us we squeeze so tight.  Is it because we scream and squirm so much.  Or plead with them not to do it.”

Silence.

Patient. “Doctor, do you think I could have another VID?  It isn’t too soon is it.  How long are we supposed to waiting in between VID’s.  Could you call Dr. Putz and see if he could fit me in.  I know that I don’t like Dr. Putz.  I find him creepy.  Oh please Dr. Wayne.  I know it hurts and I scream and cry when they are doing it.  But I need it so much.  I want to be happy again.  I want to feel smooth and creamy.  I want to be excited again.”

Therapist, looking at his watch, “It is forty minutes past the hour.  Do you want your weekly score?”

Patient,  “Oh yes, please Dr.  Can’t you see how my hands are shaking?  Can I have the cane or will it only be the strap?”

Therapist, “OK, go to the bathroom and get ready.”

Tawse Therapy

As Betty retires to the tiny attached bathroom, Dr Wayne. picks up the phone and dials a number, “Isaac Baker Putz, Dr. Wayne calling.   Hi Sac, could you fit Mrs. Draper in for a VID next week.  Yes the blonde shicksa whinner.  Yes I know she’s a kvetcher but she is beautiful and she loves it.  Yes it would be trouble, but the bitch really needs it and her husband will always pay better than the going rate.  And remember, her husband is putting the pork to Rachel.  Thanks, I really owe you one.” 

Betty returns to the office, girdle and panties in one hand, a white towel in the other.  She covers the head of the Psychiatrist’s couch with the towel.  Her therapist is very meticulous about this ritual.  She guesses that some lady or another took her beating with a full bladder and after a few swats lost control.  It must have been quite a task to clean pungent urine out of the plaid fabric of the couch.  Such a ticky-tacky couch.  Why do shrinks have such plebian tastes.  But in any case, Dr. Wayne insists on a trip to the bathroom before the crucial, physical portion of the session.  And above all, protect the precious couch.  Betty recalled reading somewhere that Freud, in Vienna, covered the head of his couch with an anti-mascar to prevent the hair oil of his patients from staining the fabric.  She wondered if Freud beat his patients.  She had read somewhere that Freud fucked his female patients. And that actually most of his patients were female.  She wondered if Dr. Wayne fucked any of his patients.  Even though he was a schmuck, Betty wouldn’t mind him fucking her. 

Then Betty lifted up the voluminous skirts of her yellow dress and bent over, exposing the white globes of her cheeks and the tanned posterior skin of her thighs above the tops of her stockings.  As she gathered the hem of her skirts up around her face she bit down on the edge of the fabric and clenched her knees together in anticipation of what was to come.  Her buttocks were already covered with bruises in a wide variety of colors ranging from black and blue (that could have been due to last Friday’s meeting of her Disciplinary Circle) to yellowish resolving marks at least a week old.  Some were obviously the work of a broad strap or paddle while others could have been caused by a switch or a whip.  It is quite an impressive display of a history of multiple chastisements on the ass of the young matron.

Dr. Wayne opened a drawer of his desk and took out a piece of leather strapping, three inches wide and about two feet long.  One end was trimmed into a handle while the other end was split into two tails.  He informs the blonde bent over his couch that she will once again be getting a tawsing and it will be a “score” Betty assumes that he means twenty swats of the

Scottish strap.  Without any further ado he lays into her, dispassionately delivering about four or five strokes a minutes.  This added bright red welts to the panoply of bruises already decorating her butt.  After each blow she flinches and whimpers but maintains her position.  Dr Wayne is always amazed at how stoically his women take their beatings.  And how much they look forward to them.    After a couple of minutes of flogging her ass, he stops and inspects her posterior.  The punishment that he inflicted is not minor.  The rounded portion of Betty’s backside is a solid mass of red welt with occasional spots of purple bruise.  In a couple of spots where the tawse hit the same spot several times over, small droplets of blood are oozing out.  This is partly due to the force with which he applied the strap and partly due to the resolving collection of bruises on her buttocks when he started off.  He thinks to himself, “Betty you are really developing a liking for a licking.  You have a really beautiful body but you have a need for pain and are working very hard to satisfy that need.  If you keep this pace up, in a few years you will have a collection of scars like Mona Sterling, the oldest of my Sterling-Cooper ladies.”  Mona’s favorite was being caned until the skin was torn into strips of raw flesh and the blood was running down into her shoes.  Fifty strokes of the cane in a tight pattern centered on the exact spot where the thighs joined the butt could now consistently bring Mona to an orgasm so intense that she usually lost consciousness for at least five minutes.  Mona was Dr. Wayne’s favorite patient.  He humped her regularly.  He remembered the debates when he was a resident about Therapist:Patient relationships.  Some of the Attendings had held out that having sex with patients or for that matter beating patients was unethical.  They died in poverty.  Patients paid well for being beaten, especially when you charged them more for a “physical” session.  And only the patients at the top of the billing scale got fucked.  

His musings were interrupted when Betty unclenched her knees and spread her legs widely.  She pleaded with him “Please Dr. Wayne, could you give me a half a dozen right down the middle.  Please, sir”.  He shook his head and said “Young lady, I am not Dr. Putz, I deal in symbolism not direct assault on the seat of your problem.  I have called him up and you are scheduled for a VID session next week.  That should satisfy you.  Besides, it is fifty minutes after the hour and I have another patient waiting.”  Once again she asked, “Please doctor, if you could give me a dozen strokes with a cane, I would be forever grateful.”  But the Psychiatrist refused to indulge her further.  “You will get more than your share of pain next week at Dr. Putz’s office”, replied Dr. Wayne.  Given the present state of her buttocks and given the probability that there was a meeting of her Disciplinary Circle coming up sometimes this weekend, if the instrument wielded was any harsher than a belt and if more than a dozen strokes were dispensed, Betty would probably show up at the VID session with an ass already sporting deep bruises and multiple cuts.  After a session of VID, it was likely her buttocks would take close to a month to heal.  And given the level of activity of her Disciplinary Circle, it could be a couple of months before the last cut, re-opened time and time again, healed.

Once Betty realized that she would be able to solicit no more abuse from her Psychiatrist, she stood up, let fall her skirts and smoothed the dress into place.  The blonde stuffed her girdle and panties into her purse which was of no more than middling size, managing to squeeze them in by some miracle of packing.  She exited the doorway that led directly into the hallway and almost collided with a dark haired middle aged woman of medium height who was entering the door into Dr. Wayne’s outer office.  It was Mona Sterling whose incredibly tight red skirt more than adequately accentuated the most spectacular ass in all of the Cooper-Sterling ad agency.  Such was the state of her psyche that Betty was 50 feet down the hall before it registered that the women she had passed was the wife of the firm’s senior partner.  It was only when Betty was seated on the commode busily manipulating her clitoris that the implications of her and Mona (and Francine and Helen) seeing the same Psychiatrist began to sink in.  As she started slipping her fingers in and out of her vagina she started incorporating fantasies of Mona being abused into her masturbatory musings.  Betty wondered how many strokes of the cane Mona would take that afternoon.  As it turned out, Mona would take twice as many as Betty fantasized.  The blonde’s rapid breathing and soft moans fascinated the nurse from the internist’s office just down the hall occupying the adjacent stall.  But then the lady in white knew all about Dr. Wayne and his strange collection of patients.

Welcome to the Institute

Although Betty could not function without her VID treatments, she hated the Menken Institute with a passion. 

Maybe it was because of the pain that she experienced there.  Pain that would rend her from one end to another.  Pain far worse, than that which she experienced during the birth of he two daughters 16 and 18 years ago.   The memory of that pain always lingered, long after the swelling had abated, the bruises had faded and the cuts had healed.  She never lost the memory of the pain.

Maybe it was going into the City that Betty hated.  After all the City always rubbed in the failure she felt.  In 1940 she was a successful fashion model.  Natural blonde hair that took a curl just perfectly and cascaded down to her shoulders.  Blue eyes that pierced the viewer through and through.  Long slim legs that drew the eye up and up to hips with curves that started the male heart racing and filled the female heart with envy.  And a narrow, narrow waist, unmarred by pregnancies.  And finally, a set of breasts so perfectly shaped that they absolutely struck the viewer dumb.  Twenty years old and at the peak of her form.  Then she was swept off her feet and taken off to suburban Ossingsing by that tall dashing engineer just starting off in the ad business.  She hated the city because it reminded her of her lost youth.  At 40 she may have still been ravishing, but she knew what she looked like when she was 20.  And 40 with two daughters is a far cry from 20. Her tits were still ravishing but Betty had to admit that they were just beginning to sag.  She hated going into the City and being reminded of what it was like to be 20 once.  Why couldn’t Mt. Sinai have a branch hospital out in the suburbs?

Maybe that wasn’t simply it.  She hated Jews, as many of her class and era did.  She remembered The WAR.  After all she was 21 when America entered The WAR after the Nazi bombed Washington, dragging us into their European conflict.  It was because of the Jews that we had to fight and bleed.  So the Nazi killed 10 million of them while conquering Poland, France, England and most of Russia.  Still we destroyed most of Europe in our victorious campaign over their German oppressors.  With the Bomb we leveled Berlin, Hamburg, Munich, Frankfurt, Leipzig, Bonn and Dresden.  Turned them into radioactive waste that would be uninhabitable for another 40 years or more.  Before the Nazi finally gave up in 1948.  Her girls were 6 and 4 when peace finally came and they remembered little of The WAR.  And after The WAR came the conflict with the Soviets.  What was left of Russia after the Nazi were finished with them.  In 1950 we fought them as well and Donald was off in the service again.  But led by the Jews and weakened as the Russians were, they were not much of a match for us.  The Rosenbergs were executed by impalement in Times Square.  I was there to witness it.  I watched the naked Jewess squirm and wiggle with a stake shoved up her twat as she took two days to die.  Before they could betray our atom bomb secrects to the Russians.  A Bomb on Leningrad, a Bomb on Moscow, a Bomb rearranging the rubble of Stalingrad.  And those Jew-led Bolsheviks were put in their place.  But the Jews were paradoxically strong here in the United States.  Despite restrictions they dominated the medical and legal professions.  And maybe that is why she hated and despised them.

Maybe that wasn’t the real reason.  Maybe it was Rachel.  Donald was discrete about his indiscretions but Betty knew when he was fooling around.  Wives knew these things instinctively.  The institute was named after Rachel’s mother who killed herself while the middle of the post partum blues after Rachel’s birth.  Officially the story was that she died in childbirth but Betty had come across the actual records while working as a hospital volunteer over a decade ago.  Just like the Jews to cover things up.  She kept the secret when Donald took on the Menken’s Dept. Store.  Betty said nothing when Donald started seeing Rachel socially.  She knew and she said nothing.  She could taste the jewish pussy juice on Donald’s cock when she fellated him.  She knew and was silent.  Betty was tired of being the perfect Madonna.

They were always so friendly when she entered the Menken Institute.  They greeted her so warmly and effusively.  And Betty smiled back, flashing her famous smile.  But she knew what they were thinking, ‘Rich goy back for another beating, hasn’t she had enough.’  A whole Institute founded on a lie and oozing denial.  A nurse led her from the reception area with its pale walls of birch paneling and wall to wall beige carpeting, through the heavy oak door into the long white corridor with overhead recessed fluorescent lights and the white linoleum tile floor with white metal doors on either side evenly spaced about every dozen feet.  The thin sparse hairs on her arms stood on end as she entered that corridor.  They had gone no more than a few feet down the hall when the nurse accompanying her opened a door to a room on the right.  Betty swore she heard a muffled scream coming from down the corridor.  It was 7:00 AM.

THE MENKEN INSTITUTE FOR FEMALE PHYSICO-PSYCHOTHERAPY

Medical Record: Elizabeth “Betty” M. Draper

VOLUNTARY IATROGENIC DYSPARUNIA CLINIC

#51278-002, DOB 5/21/20

June 15th 1960 OPD Visit

Diagnosis: Chronic Severe Depression

Psychiatrist: Dr. Wayne; Gynecologist: Dr Putz

Temperature, 37o; Pulse, 70, regular; Resp. 22.

BP 128/70

OPD Note dictated on June 15th, 1960 at 8:30 by Dr. Putz

The patient is a well developed, well nourished adult female appearing her stated age, in a state of mild agitation.  Physical examination was remarkable only for the following:

HEENT: WNL

Chest: clear to A & P, normal heart sounds sine murmurs or irregular rhythm.  Breasts are minimally pendulous but have numerous lumps consistent with pervious multiple episodes of traumatic fat necrosis with some dimpling of the skin and half a dozen healed and healing linear scars, particular on the superior aspects.  Nipples and areolae are scarred and show multiple suture defects.

Abdomen: Liver just palpable at the R costal margin.  Normal bowel sounds without particular masses.  AA can be palpated and has normal size and pulsations.

MS: Bilateral bunions.

Derm: numerous bruises of the buttocks and upper thighs in various stages of resolution and occasional linear scars in various stages of healing consistent with Brownian Therapy of Depression.

Pelvic: LMP two weeks ago, currently on OC therapy.  External genitalia remarkable for enlarged, swollen and bruised clitoral hood and clitoris.  Bruises of the labia majora in various stages of resolution.  The labia minora and fourchette are parous consistent with several vaginal deliveries.and display numerous bruises in various states of resolution.  Vaginal walls display occasional 4 to 6 mm round scars. Cervical os is parous.  Bimanual exam, normal post partum, non menopausal uterus.  Both ovaries palpable and WNL.  Anus is slightly gaping and has one infarcted hemorrhoid.  Anal sphincter tone is good.  Rectum is empty.     

PLAN.  Pt seeks sixth course of VID and has signed release.  PE reveals no contraindications.  Regular flagellist is unavailable but has sent substitute.  Considering that previous VID has been tolerated well and pt seeks repeat course, will up the strength of this treatment in hopes of even better therapeutic effect.  Will monitor course of therapy at 15 minute intervals.

cc Dr Wayne

Same Old, Same Old  Betty looked around the room and was not happy.  The place gave her a feeling of familiar foreboding.  Betty pretty much knew what was going to happen and although she wanted it, she really didn’t like it.  She started to take off her clothes and put them into the locker.  Actually it was an elegant small wooden closet but it still amounted to a locker.  Put your purse on the shelf.  Unzip your dress, down the back.  Step out of it.  Put it up on the hanger.  Pull up your slip and lift it up over your shoulders and over your head.  Loop the straps around the hanger.  Now for the serious stuff.  Unsnap the fasteners and wiggle out of the girdle.  Fold it and put it on the shelf.  It hurt pulling the girdle down over her bruised butt and things.  It was bad enough having your behind beaten a couple of times a week but a tight girdle made it all that much worse.  Unhook the bra and put it on the shelf.  The soreness in her breasts were better now without the constriction of the bra.  What fitted fine was no longer fine when your breasts were just recovering from a session with the riding crop.  And last Friday in her Disciplinary Circle the girls must have sensed that Betty was going to have a VID this week.  They were not very gentle.  Lower the panties and add them to the pile.  Look at the nurse and nod toward your nylons – you want these too.  She nods back, so off come the heels and down and off come the hose.  Pretty well buck naked.  Goose bumps start forming, not so much from the cold, for the room is of course pleasant, but from the fear and embarrassment that comes with being naked in front of a stranger.  An elemental, not entirely rational fear.  Based on experience.  Intensified when the nurse locks the door of the closet and give you the stupid joke of a gown to put on.  Barely covers you pussy in the front.  And open in the back, even when you finally manage to tie the cloth straps that close it.  Sort of.  Bruised buttocks and battered thighs, freed of the constrains of girdle and bare of panties wiggled and jiggled out there in the breeze.

And the exam table waiting for you in the back of the room.  You know the table and all its accoutrements are for.  It is for you to bend over and spread you cheeks as the nurse inserts the enema cannula.  Which is big.  Which is way bigger than it needs to be, way, way too big.  And un-lubricated, or so it seems.  Oh shit that hurts.  God, the head of that thing must be two and a half inches in diameter. 

“Yes, yes I know to bear down, couldn’t you use a little K-Y jelly on that.  Oh yes I know you did, couldn’t you have used a little more.  And do you really need to use a cannula bigger than my husband’s dick.  Oh, I know everything is specified in the protocol.” 

In great obscene phrases, you remember the protocol you just signed.  Now the slow infusion of the soapy solution begins.  The room is well supplied with reading material.  Loose leaf binders with a record of every treatment line shelves just above the exam table.  Heavy sheets of black paper with photos mounted and pages of medical jargon.   A separate 3 ring binder for each patient labeled with their initials.  Some are only a half inch wide.  Some are three inches thick.  Including ‘MS’, Mona Sterling, Don’s boss’ wife – Betty has been though those photos while bent over the table waiting for the bottle with the soap suds sitting on the top shelf to fill her bowel.  Thin binders for Frances and Helen, women who are her friends and neighbors.  They have only had a treatment or two.  Betty always forgets to ask them how big an enema they get.  Looking through their binders it is strange to see these women she knows naked.  And naked with their heads covered with black hoods and their bodies covered with welts and wheals.  Legs spread and genitals red from being beaten. Well not completely strange, just looking at the photos in a clinical setting.  Betty had seen them live, stripped and whipped in her Disciplinary Circle.  In fact she saw their naked butts on a fairly regular basis.  And Betty had beaten them on more than one occasion.  But not as shocking as some of the things she had seen in Mona’s folder.  Pictures of a naked Mona next to her naked twenty year old daughter.  Frontal views Mona’s breast covered with welts and blood running down from her torn nipples onto her belly. The pudenda of both mother and daughter laced with whip wheals.  In that photo the two women were on adjacent tables with their legs spread.  The blood running from Mona’s cut-to-ribbons inner labia was pooling on the white cloth covering her table.  Betty’s pelvic muscles clenched at the thought of how it must have felt when Roger stuck it to that lacerated pussy.

 

And then the cramping starts as her colon reaches its limit.  Oh shit Betty inwardly moans. The nurse comes into the room to check Betty’s progress, notes her reading another patient files and says nothing.  She clamps the hose which will hold the soapy water in and leaves the room.  Undoubtedly to make another patient miserable.  Betty’s distended colon will have to churn for a while, sending waves of pain and nausea through her.  “You know it makes no sense” she thinks.  “I take my laxatives the night before like I’m told and I’m on the john all night shitting my guts out until there is nothing left.  Yet in the morning, first thing, this enema nonsense.  Clean me out more.  Why?”  She knows the answer the nurse will give, “Because it’s in the protocol”.  Betty almost audibly remarks “Fuck the fucking protocol”.  Inaudible because a lady like Betty would never let an obscenity like that past her lips.  Not in front of a stranger.

The nurse returns finally turns the three way valve to evacuate.  This releases the flood.  The milky fluid flecked with specks of residual feces and strands of mucous sprays into a bucket between Betty’s legs.  Nurse says, “The return is not yet clear enough, we will have to irrigate your colon once again.”.  “OH SHIT” Betty thinks, “here we go again”.  With evacuation Betty’s bowels are almost quiescent, for a while”.  It isn’t too bad for a while.  Until about two quarts flows in, then the cramping starts with a vengeance.  When no more soapy water will flow in the nurse clamps the hose and leaves the room again.  Now the cramping and pain gets really bad.  And Betty’s anal ring is really starting to hurt.  That cannula is a real bitch.  It must be an inch and a half at the neck.  There is a “roid” trapped in there, the hard rubber pinning it right against the stretched anal muscle.  Boy does that smart.  And Betty knows it will hurt even worse when it comes out.

The blond returns to looking though the photo folders of the other patients in an attempt to lead her mind away from her churning bowels.  A file labeled “RM” draws her attention.  A tall young woman with dark hair and features Betty regards as vaguely Semitic   Could this be Rachel Menken?  Reasonably full breasts, thoroughly beaten.  A fairly broad, but not too broad, ass, stripped and torn by the cane.  Could that be the pussy that her husband has plowed.  Pretty thoroughly scored by either a whip or a thin cane.  I wonder if Donald nibbled those lacerated inner vulvar lips.  I wonder what it is like to eat a pussy that has been cut to shit.  If it is indeed Rachel, more power to her.  Betty thinks “I hope that she needs to get VID twice as often as I do.  I hope that by the time she gets to forty her breasts are disfigured lumps of solid scar tissue.”  And looking at the variety of pictures, it very well may be the Jewish bitch.  The most recent pictures are in the front of each binder and the ‘RM’ binder is one of the thickest on the shelf.  ‘RM’ gets noticeably younger as you get toward the back.  Rachel couldn’t be older than 25 or 26 and the girl in the back of the binder could be no more than 15.  Before Betty can think about it much more, the nurse enters and starts to evacuate Betty’s colon for the last time.  Then comes the excruciating pain of extracting the head of the cannula from her rectum.  The pain is such to cause Betty to see red and she gasps and chokes.  That “roid” must be bleeding because the nurse is holding a piece of gauze to her asshole.  “Is it torn?” Betty inquires.  All the nurse says is “Its OK”.

Now from bending over the exam table, Betty gets to switch over to sitting on the table.  This is not a good thing.  “Ouch” she volunteers, the ‘roid’ is certainly riled up.  She spreads her legs for the obligatory perineal shave.  Even though her blond pubic and perianal hare is sparse and she shaves it regularly, Betty knows that the prep is mandatory.  But why is it necessary to then go and “NARE” her as well.  The sulfurly stench of the milky cream reaches her nostrils and Betty is reminded of how much she hates the depiliatory.   Dr. Putz comes into the room, pokes her a couple of times, but his cold stethoscope on her chest, thumps her and fingers her pussy.  Ouch!  He really didn’t need to squeeze that swollen ‘roid’Then he grunts and goes.  Well that will be billed for $200.00.  On top of the $500.00 treatment.  Greedy Jews.  They have a corner on everything.  Someday the anger will come out.  And Betty will tell everybody what she thinks.  Like she replied to Francine that one time, “Poison them all”.  8:57 AM.

THE MENKEN INSTITUTE FOR FEMALE PHYSICO-PSYCHOTHERAPY

Reprints of Classic Papers in Female Physico-Psychotherapy

A paper by Isaac Baker Brown, M.Chiur.B., M.D.

privately printed and circulated circa 1870

A TREATISE ON THE TREATMENT OF DISORDERS OF FEMALE AFFECT

NUMBER V: THE USE OF THE CANE ON THE MATURE FEMALE

Warning: Considering the considerable agitation and notoriety occasioned by my recent writings concerning the “cutting of the rose”, a procedure much in favor in the new and experimental field of gynecology, I am circulating this treatise privately and would appreciate if its distribution is restricted those with the discretion to read it objectively.

Premise: by anatomy and psyche, the average mature female benefits from forceful and regular application of the cane of rattan to her buttocks and thighs.

The Psyche:  As discussed in previous number I, the advance of modern civilization within the last hundred years has resulted in a situation wherein women are having fewer children, suckling has decreased and the pain and terrors of childbirth have become ameliorated by anesthesia and modern obstetrics.  It is my prediction that women will become less happy, rather than more happy, under this regimen because at a not conscious level their inner needs for pain are not being met.  Throughout the history of humanity women have lived in a sea of pregnancy, partuitition and suckling which has charged their nervous system to expect and accommodate to particular kinds of pain.  In the absence of this pain they will be disordered resulting in hysteria, depression and seeking to be like men.

The Therapy: As presented in previous numbers, disorders of the female mind can be prevented or even cured by either the removal of certain organs, unique to the female upon which descend the stimuli that ultimately disorder the female psyche.  Alternatively, similar effects can be obtained by physical effects upon the female which mimic the pains specific to the female aspects of reproduction and child rearing.  As presented and discussed in issues II to IV,  physical stimulation of the pain transmitting nerves of the nipple and areola, clitoris, labia minora, labia majora, and mons veneris can achieve the same calming effect as pregnancy, delivery, and nursing a dozen children over the reproductive life of a woman from menarche to menopause.  As explicated and exemplified from my practice this can be accomplished as readily by the application of noxious stimuli to the female organs as varied as impact trauma, pressure or thermal extremes as by the removal of the female organs so recently reviled by a vocal but influential minority.  What this section reveals is that application of the instruments of chastisement to parts of the female other than those usually considered to be part of the sexually related apparatus accomplishes the therapeutic task to a degree never before documented in a scientific way.  To state the thesis forthwith in its most practical and optimal form - repeatedly, regularly and forcefully striking the female buttocks and posterior surfaces of the thighs with a rattan cane prevents or ameliorates melancholy, hysteria, nagging, alienation of affection, flirtatious behaviour, sulking and the host of ills of the psyche to which the female is so prone.   The rattan is the cure for the ills of femininity.

The Anatomical Basis of Flagello-Therapy.  As the female transforms from a girl to a woman not only are their changes in the organs related to reproducing and sustaining the human race but there is a miraculous transformation of the subcutis, namely the accumulation of fat.  It may be, as some have suggested that this subcutaneous lipid deposition is to act as a store in preparation for pregnancy much as the bear gets fat in anticipation of winter.  But regardless, the enhanced appearance of breasts, buttocks and thighs so pleasing to the eye when occurring in moderation results in a decided cutaneous difference between the average male and female.  The skin of women is smooth and has a decided bounce to it.  The skin of men is harder, drier, and is more tightly drawn over the underlying bone and muscle.  This anatomical difference is placed here by God to aid in establishing equilibrium in the female psyche.

Any physician or surgeon is familiar with the consequences of this action.  Although striking the skin of men or women results in the familiar wheal reaction the skin of women tends to bruise at a force that will break the skin of men.  The anatomic reason for this lies in the subcutaneous layer of fat underlying the skin in areas of the body liable to striking blows.  Anyone with experience in penal institutions knows that men are best punished by whipping the back with a cat while women are best caned on the buttocks.  Furthermore, an experienced husband and father knows empirically, that nothing quite so improves the temperament of a wife or adolescent daughter as periodic punishment.  Here-upon lies the first scientific explication of the real physical reason why beating the posterior portion below the waist of the female produces such docile wives and daughters.  Previous scientists of the female have ascribed the effect to simple aversive therapy wherein displeasing the male results in punishment of the female whereby the female avoids punishment.  But all with knowledge of the female know the fallacy of this reasoning.  First of all, females consciously do whatever they want regardless of any rational expectation of gain or loss, also called the “Cosi Fan Tuti” maxim.  Second, the most efficacious application of the stick to the backside of the female is one that is regular rather than episodic, and uniformly severe rather than inconstant in force.  We herein propose that the efficacy of flagello-therapy is based on anatomy and physiology rather than psyche.

Consider the anatomic relationships of the female pelvis.  The abdominal floor of the female pelvis is the location of one of the most complex nets of nerves anywhere in the body.  And few areas of the cutaneous surface of the body are more amply invervated than the area beginning on the mons veneris past the clitoral hood through the clitoris, encompassing the labia minora and majora and ending in the peri-anal ring.  These cutaneous nerves connect with the multiple plexuses in the pelvic floor in a combined sensory and autonomic net with far reaching ramifications.  Thus the quickest way to alter the psyche of the female is though applications focusing on what I have termed the perineal path from mons to anus, a concept now accepted by all gynecologists.  But consider now the anatomy of the female bent over acutely at the waist.  The most direct path from the external universe to the nerve net on the floor of the pelvis is not through the perineal path which is tucked away between the thighs.  It is instead though the buttocks and posterior of the upper thighs.  Thus striking the buttocks will transmit waves of shock to the pelvic nerve net most directly.  Considering again that in the average mature woman the buttocks and upper thighs are richly provided with a fatty cushion it should be intuitively obvious that God has designed a system for delivering a signal to the center of the female psyche.  Beat the buttocks and you will activate the core of the female nervous system!  I claim to be the first scientist of human physiology to explicate this connection as an explanation for what so many of us have observed in vivo.

Execution of Flagello-Therapy  Drawing from these novel scientific revelations I propose the following practical applications which I have increasingly empirically tested in my gynecological practice in recent years.   In other parts of my series I will give more detailed and extensive instruction and exemplification but first I will lay out my premise in sufficient detail such that one experienced in the arts can adopt and profit without further embellishments.  There are detailed reasons for the exact procedures that I recommend but one need not understand the detailed subtleties to practice the art.  As a final caveat I should add that these procedures have only been tested on females between menarche (which in my experience occurs between fifteen and seventeen years of age) and menopause whose onset occurs over a wide range of ages from as early as thirty-five to as late as forty five.  It is my impression that these procedures may work for younger and older females but my experiences at the wider margins of life is too slim for me to be pedantic.

First is exposure and restraint.  The female, whether a blushing maiden or a haughty matron should disrobe completely, excepting perhaps her stockings and slippers.  Once stripped she should be bound to a restraining device.  I know that historically the stocks have been a standard device for bondage but they fit only awkwardly into the sort of room that is standard in medical practice.  I have found it practical to employ a wooden “horse” similar to that used by carpenters but the crossbeam need scarcely two feet.  However, unlike the carpenter’s horse, the caning horse should be bound with timbers about its feet, forming a quadrangle of boards in contact with the floor.  As many females become agitated during flagello-therapy, the heavier the bottom of the apparatus, the less likely for the balance to be disturbed.  The female is generally then bent across the cross beam and her wrists and ankles secured to the legs of the horse with straps.  I prefer leather straps, used in multiples for obvious reasons.  A large leather strap should tightly bind the narrowest part of the females waist to the crossbeam.  It goes without saying that prior to restraint, the female should empty her bladder.  This may be voluntarily, if possible, but if necessary with catheter. or it is my experience, and it is a common one, that women under stress lose control of their water, particularly when bent in this position.  Lastly, although some have reported privately to me that they find it most efficacious to bind the ankles of the female together while others swear it best to spread the knees as far apart as possible.  Again some practitioners attest that the obtain the best results with the female bound along the crossbeam with her mons placed exactly over the end of the crossbeam.  I must admit that when confronted with women who have shown little lasting benefit from the conventional position, I have found a small number that show improved result when their pubic bone is tight up against a support.  I assume that this is an example that flagello-therapy is mediated by physiological rather than psychological mechanisms.

Second is the implement.  I prefer a cane of rattan between eighteen to thirty-six inches long.  Choosing the correct length appears to be entirely an empirical process and I have never found a rhyme or reason to its efficacy.  I simply advise, start with a small light one and proceed to longer heavier ones as needed.  This length is exclusive of the handle which I prefer to be light and covered with leather to facilitate the grip.  The cane should be larger than three sixteenths of and inch and no more than seven sixteenths.  Again, I tend to start thin and work my way up.  I have my canes treated with light mineral oil in order to keep them supple and prevent cracking.  With care and prudent usage I find that a good cane can deliver thousands of strokes.  If bleeding commences, as it often does after forty or so strokes, wipe off the blood after every stroke with a towel moistened with 5 to 10% aqueous carbolic acid.  Over the years I have tried a wide variety of implements other than the cane.  In general, our American colleagues despise the cane and swear by the paddle or the switch.  I find that the paddle causes too much bruising.  Switches are bothersome to obtain and break all too easily.  On the continent there seems to be a preference for the strap which I find less than effective in inducing therapeutic effect although it is quite effective in causing pain and bruising.  I think that flagello-therapy is not simply due to the production of pain but due to the propagation of shock waves though the gluteal and thigh muscles to the pelvic floor with amplification due to focusing of the waves by the subcutaneous fat.  This is borne out by the tradition in Catholic of disciplining women (particularly nuns or girls in the monastic institutions) with a scourge of ropes or leather thongs studded at intervals with overhand knots.  The scourge can inflict great pain upon the skin but transmit little in the way of impact beyond the subcutaneous fatty layer.  I have had women, who learning of the success of my therapy in relieving attacks of anxiety and behavioral difficulties, have brought their daughters or young daughters-in-law to my facilities with a well used scourge in their possession.  These supplicant’s, mostly from Ireland and France but occasionally from Italy, Spain or Bavaria, eventually become convinced that flagello-therapy is best done with the cane. Most return to their native lands with a cane in hand and leave the school’s or family’s scourge behind in my office wherein I mount the whip on the wall as a trophy of my success.   I have left for last the birch which I find to be a ludicrous implement useful for nothing other than inflicting superficial cuts on the skin.

Third and last are matters of force, numbers and frequency.  Herein lies the value of experience and the ability to evaluate the patient.  You must deliver a therapeutic dosage while avoiding more damage than necessary.  For damage you must inflict.  Just as with treatment of the perineum or breast, I have seldom seen therapeutic effect obtained without causing severe pain and significant bruising and damage to the skin of the buttocks and thighs.  I feel, however, that nothing is more unethical than to out of an erroneous softness of heart cause moderate pain to the patient while achieving negligible therapeutic relief of symptoms.  Experience is necessary the first time the female is treated to determine when to stop the caning.  Generally this occurs when the female enters a state wherein she becomes less sensible to the pain although still responsive to the impacts.  This is a distinctly different state from that wherein the female is approaching a loss of consciousness which state is to be avoided.  My practice uses what we think of as full force to wield the cane.  We generally find that between 30 to 60 strokes are necessary to achieve the state that results in therapeutic effect upon the psyche.  We adjust the type of cane to vary the amount of force administered, adjusting for our previous experience with the female.  Girls generally need only a lighter, shorter cane and fewer strokes whereas full figured matron may require fifty strokes of a long heavy cane. 

Combined Therapy, Family Therapy and other Matters.  The realization over the last few years that flagello-therapy has a role in the treatment of female affective and behavioural disorders has allowed us to extend the range and effectiveness of our therapeutic regimen.  First, there is a limit to the amount of trauma a particular system (perineum, buttocks, breasts) can endure with out sustaining severe damage. Second in many cases the amount of stimulation of the nervous net required for therapeutic effect exceeds that amount that can be produced by a given system, without extreme damage.  Third, it appears that the stimulation of the nervous next is at least additive, and in certain cases such as caning the buttocks combined with treatment of the perineum may be synergistic.  Therefore we have found that by combining therapy at different sites and utilizing a relatively short but significant temporal greater therapeutic effect can be achieve with treatments that to individual sites is well below a dose that will cause significant damage.  This is particularly under circumstances (vide infra) that amplify therapeutic effect.

 

For example we recently treated a patient who had been previously been given therapy by a well meaning but soft hearted practitioner.  This 30 year old distinguished lady was suffering from severe melancholia after the birth of her third daughter.  She had been treated with five monthly cycles of application of a strap to her mons and perineal region starting with 20 strokes at the first session and working up to 50 strokes at the last with no therapeutic effect.  In fact after the fifth cycle there was scarcely even any bruising of the labia when we saw her seven days after the last session.  We immediately admitted her to our hospital and that night administered fifty strokes with a long heavy cane which resulted in excellent bruising and superficial lacerations of the buttocks and thighs.  At 5:00 AM the next morning she was given 30 strokes to the breasts with a light cane with a dozen of the strokes focused on the nipples.  This resulted in severe lacerations of the nipples but as she had nursed none of her daughters this was of little physiological consequence.  At three o‘clock in the afternoon she strapped into a Tee Frame and forty strokes were administered with a medium cane to her perineum.  This resulted in severe bruising of her mons and labia majora and lacerations of clitoral hood and labia minora.  Within half a week she was no longer melancholy and she was discharged home.  Herein effect was obtained by treatments that each in and of their own did not cause severe damage (cuts healed within a week) but therapeutic effect was achieved!  I doubt that there was any way that perineal treatment alone would have achieved effect no matter how severe the damage inflicted.  We call this modality, combined Therapy.

Furthermore, we have come to appreciate that other factors may influence the therapeutic effect although we do not yet have any idea of the modality or mechanism operant.  As referred to above we have long suspected that complete exposure of the female and her restraint aids the induction of the therapeutic effect.  Recently we have come to identify another potential effect.  Recently we treated a 40 year old mother for melancholy and her two daughters for behavioural disorders.  Previously they had been treated for these symptoms with no effect by a practitioner who had administered two cycles involving application of a strap to the perineum for twenty strokes followed by compression of the clitoris and labia minora with forceps.  It should be noted that in all cases the patients were treated separately and at different times.  During the therapeutic sessions the females had removed only their drawers and were treated on a standard gynecological table without restraint.  We began combined therapy as soon as the females were brought to us.  On the evening of their admission to our hospital the mother received 50 strokes of a heavy cane on her backside,  the 18 year old girl received 24 strokes of the heavy cane and the 16 year old girl received 20 with the medium.  The caning was done at the same time in the same room with all of the females stripped and on adjacent caning horses.  The next morning all three were restrained in the upright position on posts and the mother was given 30 strokes to her large pendulous breasts with a medium cane.  Immediately the mother’s melancholia lifted and the daughters professed an aversion to their previously compulsive misbehaviour.  In any case the mother and daughters were given moderate perineal therapy and have been free of symptoms for six months on monthly moderate maintanence canings.  We have termed this unexpected felicitous outcome Family Therapy.  We have subsequently found other positive results with four other combinations of mothers and daughters; mother, daughter and daughter-in-law; mother, aunt, and daughter; and mother, daughter and niece.  We believe that this application offers great promise.