by Susan Thomas
Butterfly began to feel like a can of cola that had been shaken up and about to explode. Her suppressed cries of "Mermmm" began to be more desperate and she was on the point of crying out in some way when the vicar's punishing hand stopped spanking. The relief was amazing, but her bottom felt on fire with such a stinging as she had never experienced before; it was nothing like her canings at the school. As she was stood back on her feet again, her skirt fell down but she pushed it up with her hands to clasp her bottom.
Butterfly was astonished to find she was actually crying. She had managed the cane and slipper at the school without being reduced to tears, but there had been something different about that spanking. It had been hard of course but it wasn't that. Perhaps it was being over the Rev Jack's knee that had done it, or perhaps it was being treated like a naughty little girl which the school hadn't done. There, corporal punishment was really quite formal with a code of behaviour. The thought of the school triggered a response and she put out her hand to Jack.
"I do apologise for my behaviour, thank you for spanking me."
The Rev. Jack was astonished, and Mavis stepped forward and gave her a big hug.
"What a good sensible girl you are, my dear. It is clear you were meant to come here. Rev Jack, this young lady has a place here, mark my words."
Butterfly was pleased with the writer of this spanking romance; she wouldn't have to work hard to get to stay and have her bottom spanked more, but losing her virginity was clearly going to be a problem with it being a man of the cloth. Still, she could hope. Soon it was established that the parish needed a new secretary and, naturally, there was much to be done. The old lady who had run it for sixty years had not moved with the times, nor really coped with the huge expansion of the church that had happened since Rev. Jack arrived. They needed a computer-literate person to take things in hand and bring the parish into the twenty-first century. Soon, Butterfly had been given the job and a room next to Mavis.
As Mavis guided her to her room she did warn, "Now look here, Butterfly, you'll have to mind your Ps and Qs because if you do anything silly you'll be over the vicar's knees for another good spanking."
Butterfly decided to play the part of a sensible girl who knows she needs a good strong man to keep her in order. It seemed to suit the mindset in the vicarage. "Well, Mavis, I regret not listening to the Rev Jack's warning and putting him to the trouble of rescuing me, and if I am silly or badly behaved I will take what comes without complaint."
Mavis was utterly astonished and gave Butterfly a strangely thoughtful look. "God has sent you here for a purpose," she said.
Butterfly did not comment because, honestly, how could she tell her this life was just a spanking story. Instead, Butterfly asked about the tough-looking men outside the church and vicarage.
Mavis went all dreamy. "Oh, my dear, some of them are ex-criminals who have seen the light and some were soldiers with the Rev. Jack. He was in the army when he got The Call, and once he had been to theological college he began this work. He has brought to the light many of his old comrades, and they set to work in the prisons before he asked to be given a tough parish with few churchgoers.
"The idea is that he runs his parish in a similar way to the gangs. They each have their territory and by and large respect the boundaries of other gangs. Well, Rev. Jack announced that the parish was his territory and he and his men have driven the gangs out. In a sense he has God's Gang and, if necessary, the men use their fists to keep the gangs out. Never weapons of course, they don't need them, they are all very tough and fit, and the Rev. Jack teaches them unarmed combat in the evenings. People are flocking to the church and the area has become very safe for families."
The light dawned on Butterfly, and after Mavis left her in her room she talked to herself. "It's Muscular Christianity; Charles Kingsley and Thomas Hughes and some Canadian whose name I can't remember. Strong athletic men but Christian. Some of those muscular Christian vicars took on tough parishes where they used their fists to establish themselves. He's reinvented it but what on earth is it doing in a spanking romance? What a strange author."
Butterfly shot back to her home to get a suitcase full of clothes and came back to start on her job as parish secretary. Although the office was modern, the records were not: an ancient card index system, books with accounts, entries written in fountain pen, a filing cabinet with everything in it handwritten, and even handwritten letters. An excellent laptop sat on top of a cupboard unused and even still in its packaging. Butterfly sighed and began to organise herself, but the sound of voices in the corridor disturbed her and she stuck her head out. There were three women sitting on chairs looking very sorry for themselves, and the study door was just shutting. A moment or two later from inside the study came the sound of spanking and the cries of a woman whose bottom was being roasted by a strong hand. The three women began to squirm on their chairs as clearly they were going to be next. What was going on?
The sounds in the study changed. Clearly the hand spanking the bottom had been changed to something hard and the cries became extremely agitated, rising to a crescendo as whatever it was smacked down again and again. The women on the chairs squirmed even more, and one began to cry softly, though she made no effort to leave. All went quiet in the study and, after a while, the door opened and the Rev. Jack came out, being very gentle with a tearful-looking woman who was rubbing her bottom. The woman thanked the vicar profusely and he was about to summon the next one in when he spotted Butterfly.
"Ah, Butterfly, I need you. Mavis is preparing some food for the men and really I need a chaperone in here with me. It is not right I should deal with this without a woman to chaperone my visitors. Our old parish secretary used to do it before her death." Then turning to the woman on the nearest chair he said, "Come in Agnes, I know how foolish you have been but don't worry, all will be well."
Butterfly went in with Agnes, curious about it. Agnes was around forty she thought and was wearing a wedding ring. She was cleanly and tidily dressed, but was clearly not well off. The Rev. Jack sat down on his chair, but Agnes stood in front of him, her hands clasped in front of her and her head down.
"Come now, Agnes, it is time for a full confession." The vicar's voice was gentle but very firm.
"Well, vicar, I disobeyed my husband in spite of your sermon last week. I know I should be obedient to him and I know I promised you I would be but..."
"But what, Agnes?"
"Well it was just that they were having a sale over at Big John's Emporium and there were good bargains to be had."
"Agnes, that is in the Grime Guys territory. You knew that, didn't you?"
She didn't answer, just hung her head and confessed that she had to be rescued by three of the vicar's men driving a fast car.
"Well time to pay for your silliness, isn't it, Agnes? I also want you to learn Timothy 2 verses 4 and 5 by heart and then write it out and put it up in your kitchen: ...women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind and to be subject to their husbands..." Do you understand?"
"Yes, vicar, and I am so sorry."
Butterfly watched, her eyes very wide, as the woman took off her shoes and then her skirt without being asked. Underneath the skirt she was wearing tights and knickers and, without a sound and only the merest tinge of red on her cheeks, she pulled them right down and off and then stood as before, head lowered and hands clasped together.
The vicar was gentle but firmly helped Agnes to lie across his lap with her bottom beautifully positioned for a spanking. Butterfly stopped breathing; this was even better than watching Annabelle get caned or slippered. Agnes was a mature, married woman but acting like a repentant naughty seven-year-old.
Butterfly was fascinated by watching the spanking. Reading it in a story wasn't a patch on this real life experience. If it was real life, of course. She wasn't at all sure anymore whether so-called real life was actually real as she couldn't tell the difference,
except that there were lots of yummy spankings in this one.
She recognised the vicar's style from her own experience over his knee; he smacked down very hard and very fast with his hand landing on a different part of the bottom each time. Her bottom rippled away, the ripples having no time to go before the next hard smack landed and ripple chased ripple. Butterfly was astonished at how fast the bottom turned red, and Agnes was finding it as hard to take as Butterfly had. Her respect for a jolly good hand spanking grew; the cane was all very well but the position combined with a bare bottom and a hard fast hand were certainly teaching Agnes the benefits of obedience.
Agnes stretched and gave frequents gasps as she struggled to cope with the rapidly increasing heat in her bottom. She twisted her head around as if somehow seeing the hand land would make things better. She even pulled her head right up so she was like an inverted banana as the sting really got to her and she began to gasp out, "Please," and "Oh please," in between the crisp sound of the smacks as they landed on her bottom. When Agnes' bottom was a good scarlet colour all over, the vicar stopped spanking her, but it was only the interval.
"Butterfly, would you mind passing me that hairbrush over there."
Butterfly looked in the direction indicated and there on a bookcase was a large old hairbrush, its wooden back shaped a little like a shield. It was a rather attractive reddish brown in colour, but Butterfly had a feeling Agnes was not going to appreciate its beauty.
On hearing the word 'hairbrush' Agnes gave a cry of distress and began to plead, "Oh please, vicar, I've learned my lesson, honestly I have. I'll not disobey my Mike again. I know it was wrong. He told me not to go for my own good. I know that, vicar, I really do."
"I'm sure you do, Agnes, but we don't want the lesson forgotten, now do we?"
Agnes gave a little sob, and in a resigned voice replied meekly, "No, vicar, I've got to be properly spanked. I'm sorry."
The hairbrush spanking was very different to the hand spanking except that it, too, was very hard. The smacks of the brush on Agnes' red bottom were slower and much more deliberate, as if the vicar was checking exactly the right place to spank. Then he brought the brush down very hard indeed on that place with a tremendous smacking sound. Agnes' bottom compressed at the same time as her whole body jerked as if suffering an electric shock, and she cried out. Then, carefully, the hairbrush would be repositioned for another tremendous smack. Agnes clearly suffered more than she did when being hand spanked. Her legs kicked, her voice wailed, and she writhed and wriggled at every smack of the brush. The centre of both her bottom cheeks turned storm red then storm dark. The vicar stopped and looked carefully at the results of his spanking.
"Now then, Agnes, do you think you've been spanked enough?"
The reply was more of a sobbing wail than anything as Agnes poured out, "Oh yes. Oh yes thank you, vicar... please... oh yes... I know I was bad and disobedient, it will... it'll not happen again... please I promise... no more."
Poor Agnes. Getting re-dressed was a slow process as she had to stop every now and then to blow her nose or wipe her eyes. Butterfly was totally absorbed in watching her. She had never ever thought to see a mature woman spanked in such a compliant way. The Rev. Jack wasn't even her husband; in some of the stories she had read, the husband spanks his wife, though Butterfly found some of those a bit too controlling for her taste.
Butterfly had no role to play at all as the Rev. Jack kindly saw the repentant Agnes out and ushered in the next woman, so she had time to think about what was going on here and it dawned on her that here the gangs were treating women badly. Younger girls were virtually sexual slaves and anyone older was expected to work for the gang, taking only such rewards as the lordly men decided to give them. Rev. Jack, though, had a place for the women too, an honoured place but subservient to the men. They would be treated kindly and be looked after and the men would provide for them, giving them a safe environment for themselves and their children. The women felt loved, safe and secure, could be sure their children would not be drawn into crime, but must accept the authority of the men and get spanked if they did something wrong. Butterfly struggled to remember who had written Blushing Bots for Blushing Brides and then it came back to her... Susan Thomas. Whoever Susan was, she was one very weird woman... but Butterfly had to admit she was enjoying being in this story.
Kaitlin was next in, a tallish, slim woman of around thirty with no wedding ring. Who could she have disobeyed? Katlin was the one that had been crying outside, and now she sobbed her way through her confession that she had been flirting immodestly with the married men, and it was the married men who had complained. The Rev. Jack took her through a great many Biblical references, and Kaitlin sobbed even more and promised reform, before dropping her very tight jeans and the thong underneath. The vicar didn't bother with his hand but went straight to the hairbrush and, as Butterfly watched, she vowed never to flirt with anyone in this story unless she fancied having her bottom roasted like that again.
It was the same very deliberate smacking of the brush down on the bare bottom that Agnes had experienced. It was that same very hard smack each time which sent the ripples of her bottom chasing each other, though there were fewer than for Agnes since Kaitlin was younger and trimmer. The distressed cries, the electric shock type jerks and the kicking legs, though, were all very similar to those that Agnes had produced. Poor Kaitlin, her spanking went on and on until she was crying and yelling and coughing. Her squirming reached such a frenzy that Rev. Jack had to use his leg as well as his arms to hold her in place before the spanking could continue.
Butterfly was fascinated by the spanking, but also frightened. It was all very well reading about tears and snot in a spanking, but seeing Kaitlin's very real distress was disturbing. It is all very well being told about red, purple and black mottling in the centre of well-spanked bottom cheeks, but seeing it happen just a metre from you was very scary. Butterfly began to squirm on her chair in sympathy with poor spanked Kaitlin.
Finally, Kaitlin was released from her spanking and stood up, tears streaming down her face, her nose running and her eyes and face red with distress. Butterfly leapt up and, taking tissues from the desk, began to sort her out. Kaitlin suddenly threw her arms around Butterfly and sobbed against her. Butterfly had no choice but to let her sob it out. When, finally, she was calm and re-dressed, Kaitlin apologised to the Rev. Jack, and promised faithfully that her behaviour would be modestly demure from now on.
The next woman in was also about thirty, and wearing black trousers and a formal blouse. She, too, had no wedding ring. Butterfly never found out what she had done as she had written her confession, and shyly stood with her head down while the vicar read it. She pulled her black trousers down to reveal a lovely pair of white lacy knickers which she slid down bashfully. She got quickly over Jack's lap as if embarrassed by what she was showing, but it was her face that held Butterfly's attention throughout the spanking.
Her long fair hung down but left her face clear, and at first she was just embarrassed. Butterfly wondered if this was her first spanking for she too had been surprised by how embarrassed she had felt at being over the vicar's knee with her bare bottom on his lap. Jack tugged her blouse up out of the way and his hand held her midriff; that made her go red-faced. Then the spanking began and her face turned to shocked surprise. Butterfly knew that look... it stings more than you think it will. The hand, though, never paused; it smacked down again and again on the softness of the woman's bottom, and Butterfly saw the surprise turn to open-mouthed horror at just how much this was hurting. Her forehead creased, her eyes narrowed and her mouth opened and closed, letting out cries of distress. Then the tears came as her face turned redder. By the end of her spanking, her face was wet with tears and her mascara had run, leaving dark smears down her cheeks.
When she stood up, she had forgotten her embarrassment at having her trousers and knickers down around her ankles, and simply stood there rubbing her bottom and craning her
head round to look at her glowing red cheeks. It took quite a while to get her out of there.
The last woman was married, plump and probably mid-forties. She cheerfully admitted her sins and that she deserved a "good hiding", and showed no embarrassment whatsoever at baring her bottom. She took a really hard hairbrush spanking stoically, but was nevertheless in tears at the end. After all the women had departed, the Rev. Jack explained that the married women might get another spanking at home from their husbands, but that any man abusing his wife got a "visit". He didn't say what a "visit" involved but it was clear that it was something to be avoided.
Butterfly discovered that she was finding Jack more and more attractive: he was good looking, kind but firm and authoritative, fit as all get out, a real leader of men and women, and with a charisma that she found particularly appealing. He was, after all, the hero of a spanking romance, and the thought of losing her virginity to him sent tingles running through her body like electric shocks. But he was a vicar! She certainly wasn't going to flirt with him, not after Kaitlin's roasting; there is spanking fun and there is spanking to be avoided!
Chapter 4
In which Butterfly gets the hairbrush and a surprising proposal.
Much later, after her chaperoning duty, Butterfly was in the midst of sorting everything out in her parish office when Mavis stuck her head around the door.
"Butterfly, get ready for the evening prayer service. You haven't long. You're Parish Secretary now and expected to attend services."
"But it's not Sunday."
"Butterfly, we have services every day."
Butterfly flew up to her room and quickly put on the first clothes that came to hand for she had been in jeans and T-shirt which she was sure would not be acceptable in church. As it turned out she would have been OK with those in the circumstances. Butterfly had never been to church and wondered just what on earth a church service was doing in a spanking story. It was true she hadn't read all the chapters in Blushing Bots for Blushing Brides but, honestly, what kind of nutter puts a church service in a story like that?
