The Hiding of My Life I Would Never Forget

I will tell you about the time when my girlfriend when completely ballistic on me one day, and I ended up getting the beating of my life. I have to admit that I did deserve the hiding she gave me, but I never thought it was going to come in such form. I know that I am a difficult person to live with and understand, and I have the type of personality that is always pushing boundaries. I don't have a lot of patience, and I hate repeating myself to idiots. I'm very honest in that if I've got something to say then I just say it. I don't talk behind peoples back about them, or spread gossip. I always seem to take things to the edge, and I am my own worst enemy.

If there is any trouble anywhere in our town then I always seem to be in the thick of it. I don't go out purposely looking for trouble but for some unknown reason, Trouble always seems to find me. I've spent a few years in prison, and I have to say that I am lucky not to have been lifted off. When I say a few years in prison, I really mean about 20 years, give or take a month or two. During my incarceration I managed to become a Heroin addict whilst in jail, only smoking the stuff. One day I got moved to another prison and realized that I had made a big mistake, and I should not have moved voluntarily from the prison where I was. So I decided to climb the fence and go on my toes.

I had been moved from a category B prison to a category C, and I did not like their petty rules so I fucked off. During my time as an escaped prisoner it was then that I met my girlfriend, whilst on my toes. She was a really good girl and the same age as me, but a lot more mature. She was a really good influence on me and stopped me from taking Heroin. The Positives in our relationship outweighed the Negatives. So I was happy to put up with the rules and regulations she imposed upon me, which were not really that draconian anyway. We were together for about 8 months before I was recaptured by the Police and returned to prison. I had another 18 months of my sentence left which I had to finish. I was not given any extra time for escaping because the prison governor thought I had enough on my plate, dealing with another Armed Robbery charge the police were investigating. Which if had been proven or I had been charged with, I would have got another 20 years on top of what I was already doing !!

My girlfriend waited the 18 months for my release, and visited me every month, and upon my release we would continue with our relationship. Which I honestly believed was quite stable, and would be long lasting. Whilst back in prison I ended up taking Heroin again and got another habit. In all the time I was on the run and with my girlfriend, I was completely clean and never touched the stuff. She had known all about my addiction and understood that it was just a ¡§prison habit¡¨, and not something I would take when out on the street a free man. Which was only because of her influence and support, and her managing to keep me away from the stuff.

During her visits she used to tell me that when I got out I won't be taking Heroin, which she would make sure of. Eventually my release came and I went to live with my girlfriend. I should mention that she was not a girl who would allow me to take liberties or allow me to have things all my own way. Which I thought was a good thing really, because I knew she was a good influence. And I did realize that I did need some boundaries, and some rules in my life, if I wanted to remain a free person. She had a strong personality and would not allow people to take her for a fool. Everyone in the town knew and liked her, and she knew a lot of good people. She had grown up with the Traveling community, although she was not a traveler herself.

I had been out about 3 months and had been completely Heroin free, which was entirely down to her influence and her not allowing me to hang around with people she knew would be a bad influence on me. One day she said it would be ok for me to go around to see a bloke she knew, to buy a bit of Weed. She did not mind me having a smoke because she liked a Joint herself. She knew that it would take me about 5/10 minutes to see the bloke and get back home. She did not really like me going out on my own in case I got ¡§sidetracked¡¨, if you know what I mean ? When I knocked on the blokes street door and it was opened, I could see that he was not alone and was with another bloke who I knew.

And If my girlfriend had known he was in the house with the weed seller, she would never have let me gone around there. I could see that they were both smoking Heroin on a huge piece of foil, which must have been about 2ft long. As you can imagine what happened next without me telling you. The lads invited me in to join in their little party, and without another thought I had a couple of lines. You have to remember that I had been an addict a few months ago and I was not strong enough mentally to say No. That was my excuse anyway, not that it helped me much ƒ¼. After I had a few lines and had been a little longer than I expected, I went home with the Weed. The minute I walked through the street door my girlfriend was waiting for me, and the moment she saw my face she knew I had had some Gear (Heroin). She was already half suspicious anyway because of the length of time I had been. She asked me straightaway what have I had ?

And because I'm not very good at telling lies, she knew right away I had been taking Heroin, because of my eyes which were a dead giveaway. She went fucking mad and hit the roof. Smacked me straight around the face and started verbally shouting at me and calling me a no good cunt, etc etc. I am not going to lie to you and pretend that I was not frightened, because I was. I was in tears because I knew I was going to get a severe hiding. I pleaded and begged all to no avail, but there was not a lot I could really say. I knew I should not have taken the stuff and whatever was going to happen to me would be all my own fault. She dragged me into our bedroom and pulled out the stool from underneath her dressing table.

All the while she is telling me that she was going to teach me a lesson I would not forget. And I knew in the back of my mind what was going to happen to me, because of the way she was going on. In her wardrobe she had a pair of Light Blue designer plimsolls, the ones with the rubber sole. As soon as I saw what she was reaching for, it really did frighten the life out of me. I was a complete wreck before she had even laid a hand on me. She took my jeans down and pulled me over her knee. Once I was across her knee she pulled my boxer shorts down and proceeded to put that plimsoll across my bare arse.

I can tell you now that this was no fucking game and she meant what she was doing. All the time she is telling me that I won't be making the same mistake again. I think the only thing that would have hurt me more would have been a cane, because this fucking plimsoll was ruthless. I think she hit me for at least 15 /20 minutes, and I swear that I could not fucking move. Only when she had decided I had had enough, and I had learned my lesson did she stop, when her fucking arm got tired. I was in a complete state, a complete wreck. I must admit that after she had hit me with this plimsoll about 15 times my arse started to go numb and I could not really feel anymore.

All my tears and begging did not help me one bit, and she was not listening. After she had finished with me all I could do was lay on the bed on my stomach. If someone had put their hand on my arse I'm sure they would have got their hand burned. It was a terrible beating and I won't deny I have never cried so much. Even when I was sentenced to 18 years at the Old Bailey in 1986 I did not shed a tear. I don't know what was worse.
I don't mind admitting now that she did me a favor really, because I never did take Heroin again while we were together.

I do think that I would have rather gone to a rehab for 2 weeks and got off Heroin that way, rather than stopping instantly with this new radical method of hers. She had left me laying on the bed a complete nervous wreck, and walked out of the bedroom. After about an hour or so I fell asleep which was a big help. I was totally drained of energy which she had knocked out of me. This does happen to me quite a lot when I'm stressed, or I've had a panic attack, which I suffer from. And I get so tired that I need to sleep. I also take medication every day consisting of 30mg of Valium that has been prescribed to me from my doctor to stop me getting stressed.

But they do not help me when I get beatings like this one though. When she came back into the bedroom and woke me up, I thought she was coming back for round two, and to finish me off. But during the time I had been asleep my girlfriend had calmed down and was now feeling sorry for me. I think she felt a bit guilty that she had gone O-T-T on me. She knew that she had hurt me badly and she now wanted to make me feel better. I still could not walk properly and could only wear a pair of nylon running shorts I had. I could forget about sitting down for 3 days which was not even an option. I could not go out because I could not walk properly or wear a pair of jeans comfortably. She sat on the end of the bed and stroked my backside which funnily enough did offer some comfort. And she proceeded to explain to me how she felt about what I had done, and how I had let her down and let myself down, blah, blah, blah.

Which I already knew anyway and I told her that I did not blame her and it was my own fault. She told me what would happen to me if I ever did it again, and she hoped that I had learned my lesson. I assured her and promised that I would not even dream about doing that again, especially after she had told me what would happen if I did. I know that I'm not stupid and knew I would not do it again. And If by chance I did do it again then I was going to run-away. I knew she was upset by what she had done to me, and I also knew she would keep her promise if I did do it again. I'm not even going to tell you what she had promised would happen to me. It's frightening for me just to think about what she said would happen. And I did not doubt her for a second because I knew she would not break a promise to me. Then she got up and went into the bathroom and soaked a towel in cold water and came and laid it across my backside.

The relief was instant and I don't know why I did not think of doing that myself. Although I'm sure that if I had tried to do that myself she would have stopped me, to ensure that I had enough time to reflect upon what I had done. I did not leave the bedroom anymore that day and just lay on top of the quilt in my shorts. Eventually the day was over and she came to bed, and by now the stinging pain had been swapped for a dull throb. But I could still not lie on my back and fell to sleep lying on my stomach, with a fresh cold wet towel on my backside and her arms wrapped around me from behind. And if we did not have any sex that night then she could blame herself for that. After about 2 days when my backside was going through recovery she would inspect her handiwork to make sure I was getting better.

My arse was black and blue for about a week, and in all my life I had never had such an experience. And I can assure everyone who reads this, and I know some people out there would be enjoying this experience, but I can assure you that I was not. And it was not something I wanted to endure ever again. She never let me forget that she was now in charge and I would do as I was told, nor would she let me out of her sight again, etc, etc, etc. From then on she would often come up behind me and give me a playful smack on my backside, if I had been cheeky or answered her back or some other bullshit excuse. One of my problems in life is that I do not take things seriously, and everything is a joke.

I've always got a smart riposte if I want to be sarcastic, which I also knew really pissed her off. I've got a bit of a dry wit that sometimes sounds like a ¡§putdown¡¨, which I use when I'm tired of explaining myself to someone, who might be acting a bit obtuse with me. Like I said earlier about myself, and my limited amount of patience with people. I get bored very quickly and my mind needs to be occupied, otherwise I find myself getting in trouble. My girlfriend would get the hump with me if I did not take things seriously and she would still put me across her knee and give me a few whacks.

My philosophy on life is that ¡§Life is too short to take seriously¡¨. My girlfriend wanted me to know that she was in charge and I still needed to do as I was told. I put up with this because in all honesty there was not really a lot I could do about it. If I had been cheeky or making smart comments during the day then I would be told ¡§Wait until I get you home¡¨. I'm pleased to say that I never received another good hiding like the one I got when I did the Heroin. It was to my advantage to pretend that it hurt me when she did give me a good hiding, but it only hurt for about 10 minutes, and never bruised me like before. It was more of a symbolic gesture on her part to keep me in my place, and so I did not forget she was in charge.

I suppose I would get a good hiding about once a week maybe, but I think she was always aware of not losing control again like she did once before. I could never protest my innocence to her because she never hit me for nothing, and she always had a reason or excuse. I knew that the chances were good that she was in the right anyway. There was no point in me protesting my innocence or regret, or saying how sorry I was. I Knew that she would never listen to my protests once she had made up her mind, so I might aswell accept it and get it over and done with. It was like a routine we had, and in all honesty it seemed to work. It allowed her to believe that she had to be cruel to be kind, and that she was doing me a favor. At the end of the day I knew that the important thing as far as I was concerned, was that I knew she loved me and cared about me enough to put up with my antics.

And she believed that she was doing society a favor by keeping me under control.

I see a Psychiatrist every 2 weeks, and it was her who put me on my Valium prescription. She is a very nice lady who I've been seeing for the last 10 years, and since I've been out of Jail. I don't think I really need to see a psychiatrist for clinical reasons. But she does give me good support if I need a letter written to the Job centre, or DLA. She said that I should have been diagnosed with ADHD when I was about 8 years old. But unfortunately for me ADHD was not a recognized medical term in them days and there was no treatment for it like there is today.

But if you knew what I had to go through when I was growing up then you would agree that I was a genuine ADHD sufferer. I was a proper Outlaw in every meaning of the word; I did not care about rules or the Law. I was totally uncontrollable with more lives than a cat. I received my first prison sentence when I was 18 years old, and then it was all down-hill from then on.

Jesse James.