The Library of Spanking Fiction: Wellred Weekly
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Articles
Items of interest regarding all things spanking
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Ivor Goldblatt: A Tribute  Introduction by Februs Those who have watched any of the Red Stripe spanking videos will no doubt have seen Ivor Goldblatt who was the owner of Red Stripe and acted the part of stern disciplinarian in many of them. Sadly, he was savagely murdered in his own home in 2001 by some carpet fitters who were aware that he had money in his house. His son, David, although not a spanko himself, has wrtten a moving account of his father's life and death, including his activities in the world of spanking, called Doing the Paperwork — Life in the Aftermath of a Violent Death, being part of an anthology entitled Fathers published in Granta magazine. In his essay he reveals, inter alia, that he had known about his father's spanking interests for quite some time. Ivor's contribution to the UK spanking scene was significant and many were introduced to the spanking scene for the first time via his Red Stripe club.  It was a hot summer evening in 1995 and I was walking down a street of Victorian terraced houses in Waltham Abbey on the outskirts of London's northern suburban sprawl. As I approached the address I had been given, I heard the unmistakeable sound of bare bottoms being spanked, sometimes accompanied by girlish squeals, emanating from the open windows ... A couple of weeks earlier, I had had a spanking session in a working flat in Marylebone with one of my regular spankees, Rachel. We got on very well, Rachel and I, I liked her and she liked me. At the end of the session she said to me: "Let me do you a favour. Ring this telephone number." She wrote it down for me. "You'll be able to get all the spanking you want for a fraction of what you pay here." I should perhaps explain that if you had a session with any of the many working girls who advertised spanking services in Marylebone (or anywhere else in London for that matter, though Marylebone was then the real centre), then the maid at the flat would be listening very carefully to what was happening in the room where the action was taking place. One of her tasks was to ensure that the girls weren't giving anything more than the client had paid for. There were no limits on hand spanking, the only real limit was the time for which you had paid. But for extras, for example if you wanted to cane the working girl, the fee was £10 a stroke and the maid would listen and count to make sure that the client wasn't getting anything for free. I rang the number later, and of course it was Ivor's. He told me that there was a big party planned for about two weeks' time, and that I would be most welcome to come. The entry fee was about what I paid for a single session with a working girl. He said that I would be able to spank and cane a very large number of girls at the party, which turned out to be one of Ivor's Christmas parties: being Ivor, he always held these in midsummer, and his summer parties were always of course held at Christmas. Because I had never been to such an event before I was somewhat nervous. Might there be a police raid, for example? I was careful to leave any personal id in my car, which I parked some distance from the address, and took with me only cash for the entrance fee. As I later found out, this was a needless precaution: the police weren't at all interested in those sorts of parties. The press was, though, and a couple of years later one of Ivor's summer parties in Stratford which I attended was infiltrated by a News of the World reporter, and featured in the following day's paper! Ivor would have been delighted to know that the NotW has since bitten the dust. I knocked at the door of the house from which those fascinating sounds were coming and it was opened by Ivor, who introduced himself and told me to walk around and get acquainted with the girls and the other party-goers. The party was chaotic: girls were being spanked in every room except one, which was reserved for the switches (never my bag). I met and spanked for the first time some lovely women. Those I remember very well include Big Mel, Little Mel, Emma from Leicester, Stephanie, Sally and a girl from Bristol who may have been called Donna, I think, and who, like the others, turned up regularly at future parties which I attended. There were also some irregulars: I remember in particular a woman from Brighton who seemed exceptionally keen on me, but whom I unfortunately never saw again. It was an evening of heavenly anarchy, I couldn't believe my luck. Towards the end of the evening all the girls who were up for it (which was most of them) were slippered, strapped and caned by anyone who wanted to.  I started to attend regularly Ivor's smaller parties, which were held about once a month. These were completely different. There were usually four or five girls, and about twice the number of blokes. Ivor ran these parties like a sergeant major, ensuring that each of the party-goers had exactly the same time with each girl, and that each girl received the same number of strokes with whatever implements were to hand (slippers, straps, tawses, and always canes). At these parties I met most of the girls who had been at the Christmas party in Waltham Abbey, and some new ones, including Theresa and Iris, with both of whom I later had frequent and regular 121s and sometimes 221s. I also had 121s with Big Mel, one of the sexiest women I have ever met (not conventionally pretty, but a superb bottom and an extraordinary sexual magnetism), as well as with Little Mel (not to be confused though she often is with Barbie Mel), Stephanie and one or two others. I strongly preferred 121s to parties for a number of reasons, but would go to them occasionally if I wanted a new regular spankee. But back to Ivor...Ivor had a flat in Ruislip which he would let me use for 121s. It was a bachelor pad (Ivor was in fact a widower whose wife had died quite young), and to put it charitably it was somewhat unkempt. In one room there was an old ticker tape machine which was once in full cry when I was there. It was spewing out an endless list of videos (Title, Production Company etc.) from all over the world, but mostly from the UK and the USA. I never quite knew what that was all about. Ivor had his own video company, of course, Red Stripe, and many of the girls I got to know featured in them including Big Mel (It's So Embarrassing), Rachel (yes the one who originally gave me Ivor's number, Payday - with Stephanie - and The Wrong Arm of the Law; she was quite beautiful), and the girl from Bristol (Doing Hard Time, a very strong British video for the time, anticipating much later offerings from Prague). Theresa featured as the Head Girl in Overstepping the Mark and in other videos for Red Stripe and later for other production companies.  Overstepping The Mark  Doing Hard Time Ivor once let me use his bedroom for the culmination of a session with an ex-working girl whom I used to see privately when she retired very young. (I later found that I was sharing her affections with a former chairman of the Broadcasting Standards Authority, but that's another story). Ivor's bedroom was better imagined than seen - very lived-in, but it served the purpose. I found out about Ivor's murder from Iris. She phoned me to ask if I had heard, and I hadn't - it was a real shock. But when I heard the circumstances it didn't surprise me: Ivor would never back down, it wasn't in his nature. He was one of the most open yet complex people I have ever met. I was very fond of him and I don't think we shall see his like again. I think that his son, David, whom I once had the pleasure of meeting at Ivor's flat, has done a wonderful thing both with the museum and with his touching written tribute to his dad in Granta.  5 comments
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