by Susan Thomas
To her absolute astonishment, the church was packed, and it was clear that many of the men had come straight from work. One was even still in an overall covered in paint stains. There were teenagers looking awkward in their rapidly growing bodies and mums with babies trying hard to keep them from squalling. Butterfly was aware that everybody who saw her, stared, but put it down to the fact that she was new. It wasn't until after the service that she discovered from Mavis what the looks were for.
"Butterfly! Oh my goodness, child, you can't wear a skirt that short anywhere in the parish let alone a service."
"What's wrong with it?"
"Well, apart from being so short it practically shows your knickers, it is the sort of the thing the girls in the gangs are made to wear... you know, when they are going to sell their... services."
Butterfly was mortified. Her parents didn't actually care what she wore so long as she wasn't naked, and it had not occurred to her that wearing a very short skirt could upset anyone.
"I'm so sorry."
"Yes, well, you'll have ruffled feathers; the mums have enough problems making sure their daughters dress sensibly without the Parish Secretary wearing something like a tea towel for a skirt. It'll be a spanking for you I'm afraid, but I'll try and get you out of the hairbrush."
Butterfly had mixed feelings. She liked being spanked, especially by dishy men, but the hairbrush spanking didn't sound like fun at all. On the other hand, she really ought not to judge it until she tried it. Not long after they got back to the vicarage, the Rev. Jack spoke sternly to her.
"I'm sorry, Butterfly, you really shouldn't have worn that; 1Timothy 2 verse 9 makes it clear that women are to dress modestly, and that is especially important in this area and our situation. I am afraid I will have to spank you, but Mavis has explained to me how surprised and sorry you were so I shall not use the hairbrush. I have to eat now and then go and teach combat skills so it will be at bedtime."
Butterfly knew how to respond appropriately: she hung her head slightly and thanked the vicar, promising better dress sense in future. She would have to pay a quick visit home at some point to buy some more modest clothes as well as see her mum and dad. That night she put on a modest pair of pyjamas (though in fact she often went naked to bed) and waited for the Rev. Jack to come and spank her. She was quite excited by how easy it was in spanking stories to actually get spanked - that is if you were female, of course. She sat and thought about the spanking to come and dreamed of Rev. Jack shagging her senseless (well a girl can dream, can't she?) but then began to feel guilty.
Guilty? Yes, guilty. She had inserted herself, cuckoo-like, into a spanking story in order to get spanked and actually be part of one of the stories that she enjoyed so much. Yet now she was putting limits on the spanking she'd got. Well, yes, she had escaped the twelve of the best from Dr Gasket but that was partly to save David. Anyway, that wasn't a spanking, it was a flogging; she would have ended on her tummy in the infirmary and she really wasn't into BDSM. Now, however, she had told herself she must evade a hairbrush spanking. That wasn't right. Agnes, Kaitlin and that last woman (what was her name?) had all been spanked with a hairbrush. If that was what wearing immodest clothing warranted then she - Butterfly - must not chicken out... at least not this time.
Butterfly thought quickly about what to do. Her mum had an old wooden hairbrush, much plainer than the Rev. Jack's but it would give a good spanking she was sure. Quickly, she turned on her transmitter and pressed 'home', finding herself back in her own room. She wasn't in the least tempted to stay there but, quickly checking that her mother wasn't in her bedroom, she grabbed the hairbrush. Back in her own room, she returned to Blushing Bots for Blushing Brides, wondering if she really had the courage to ask for a hairbrush spanking. Well, she'd taken the cane on her knickers from Dr Gasket so...
At around eleven, the Rev. Jack appeared with Mavis to chaperone him: it was time for her spanking. Butterfly stood up and, composing herself into the appropriate penitent posture of head down and hands clasped in front of her, began to speak.
"Vicar, I am most terribly sorry that I wore an immodest skirt to church. Honestly, I didn't know, partly because I have never been to church before. However, I realise how upsetting that must be for people especially, as Mavis pointed out, those mums fighting to rid their daughters of the gang look. So, if you would normally use the hairbrush then please don't let me off." Then she handed the vicar her mum's hairbrush.
The effect was really quite astonishing. Mavis began to cry, possibly tears of joy but who can tell what writers intend. The Rev. Jack, though, looked like he had just found the Promised Land. His face softened, his eyes shone and he smiled softly at Butterfly.
"Butterfly, such a request cannot be denied, but even so I will not spank you as hard as a girl who knew and understood what was expected. I will also make sure that your request is known to the whole parish. However, it will still hurt so we'd best not keep you waiting."
With that, he sat down on the bed, and beckoned Butterfly to him. She wasn't sure whether he would pull down her pyjama bottoms or if she had to do it. But Mavis gave her the nod and made a pulling down signal with her hands, and Butterfly pulled her pyjama bottoms down, rather enjoying exposing herself to the Rev. Jack. She let her bottoms fall right down to her ankles, and then decided to step out of them. This time, as she went over his knee, she felt excited; the sheer submission to punishment really did something for her, but she was still anxious about how much the hairbrush would hurt.
Smack! Butterfly jerked hard as the hairbrush smacked down on her right cheek with considerable force. She stifled the cry that sprang to her lips, and realised how utterly different it was to the cane. She made herself relax because, after all, she wanted this, and had taken the cane from Dr Gasket and Annabelle. Smack! Now her left cheek burnt as the hairbrush punished the gentle skin of her bottom. The smacks came fairly fast in a steady rhythm of right cheek, left and right across. Butterfly found that holding her position just wasn't as easy as with the cane. Cane strokes took longer to be delivered and were concentrated in thin lines. This all over stinging which multiplied with each smack, plus the awkward position dangling like a child over his knees, meant her bottom refused to stay still. In fact, she found herself writhing across his lap in a most unladylike way as the spanking progressed. She grabbed hold of the bed linen hanging down with both hands, and held on for dear life as the heat and sting built up terribly.
She tried hissing as she had when caned, but it came out as a series of high pitched "ooohs." She wanted to be brave as she had been at the school but really this felt worse... this sheer relentless escalating burning produced by the hairbrush. She wriggled and writhed, she gasped and oohed, kicked her legs and clutched the bed clothes so hard she was in danger of pulling the whole lot off, but at no point did she complain or plead for it to stop. Then suddenly it was over.
She stood there naked from the waist down, totally unconcerned about anything other than wiping tears from her eyes and face and clutching her burning bottom. Mavis hustled her into pulling her pyjama bottoms back on, and once again Butterfly did the school thing and stuck out her hand to the Rev. Jack and thanked him for punishing her.
Her bottom burnt and throbbed all night long, and Butterfly decided that the hairbrush is at worst the equal of the cane and possibly more painful, depending on the level of the punishment. By the morning, though, when the heat had gone to be replaced with soreness and bruising, she was pleased and proud she had taken it. She reflected that she really was getting a lot out of her book adventures.
Butterfly had a great deal of work to do as parish secretary, but she thrived on work and challenges, and soon began to get a real grip on the parish administration. Naturally, it meant spending a lot of time talking to the vicar, and she began to be quite fond of him, looking forward to their times together. She also had to chaperone the female members of the parish who arrived daily to be spanked, and that took much time, bu
t the vicar was also there, of course.
One day, Mavis spoke to her, "You know, Butterfly, you've worked wonders with the vicar."
"Huh?"
"He's always been driven to spread God's word and is always kind, but there has always been this sense of loneliness about him, as if something was missing. Now he seems happy, as if he has found a soul mate."
"What on earth are you getting at?"
"I think God has sent you to become the Rev. Jack's wife."
Butterfly was horror-struck and had an urgent desire to get her transmitter and press 'home'. She was eighteen for heaven's sake and in a story, not real life. Perhaps it's OK to marry the prince in a fairy story when you're a teenager but come on, this was insane. What kind of mad plot was this? She made an excuse to go to her office and shut the door to think.
In the quiet of her office, Butterfly was able to think, and it became clear to her. She should have known all along. How could she have been so very stupid? Blushing Bots for Blushing Brides: the clue was in the title. If she inserted herself into the book it was to end as a bride. She had wanted to lose her virginity as well as get spanked, and that was exactly what the book was providing.
"Oh glory be to goodness me," she muttered. It was something her grandfather always said when he was flummoxed. What could she do? She liked Jack (he now insisted she call him Jack in private) perhaps more than liked but... but well he was a character in a spanking romance. She'd only come for the spankings and to lose her virginity, and the latter hadn't even happened yet. In fact, she'd only had two spankings, though she'd seen loads more. She'd managed to get more punishments at the school.
Now Mavis had mentioned it, she began to notice the way Jack looked at her... he was definitely feeling something for her. She realised that he was making more and more opportunities to speak and even consult her. Butterfly began to feel slightly panicky because she had begun to have feelings back and not just the randy "shag me quickly" ones (though that would have been good too). You can't fall in love with a character in a book can you? What was she to do?
Perhaps she delayed too long because late one night matters came to a head with a speed that took her breath away. Butterfly had actually gone to bed and was in skimpy pyjamas but couldn't sleep. She had loads of work to do so decided she might as well work rather than toss and turn in bed, and slipped quietly down to her office. It was 2 am and the whole vicarage was silent. Butterfly had hardly started when the door opened and there was the Rev. Jack looking very muscular in a pair of boxers and an old army T-shirt.
"Oh, it's you, Butterfly. I thought we had burglars. What on earth are you doing?"
"I couldn't sleep so thought I'd work."
"Silly girl, come to the kitchen and I'll make us hot chocolate."
Butterfly wasn't especially keen to work at 2 am so happily packed up and went into the kitchen with Jack. He made her delicious hot chocolate, and they sat drinking it in companionable silence, Butterfly feeling very tingly indeed in just her skimpy pyjamas and he in very little more. She began to wonder if it was going to be possible to lose her virginity after all, but how to achieve it, that was the problem. Oh well, nothing ventured nothing gained. She reached out and put her hand over Jack's then her other one on his bare knee.
She wasn't sure what was happening because Jack began to breathe very hard. He sat utterly rigid, breathing harder and harder, and then suddenly he acted very fast indeed. One minute she was sitting on her own chair and the next she was being pulled across his knee and unable to resist, such was his speed and strength. Butterfly squealed and, as she felt her pyjama shorts being pulled down, began to protest and struggle. It was hopeless, soon her shorts were clear of her bottom, and then he smacked his hand down hard. Butterfly jerked and squealed.
"Brute, this is so unfair. What did I do?"
Jack didn't answer but his hand smacked down again very hard indeed. Butterfly wriggled and tried to escape, but was unable to do anything but remain in place, her bottom stinging from two hard smacks.
"Let me go! What do you think you're doing, Jack? This is so unfair. Let me go."
It made no difference; instead of letting her go he started to spank her fast and hard. Butterfly squealed, kicked, wriggled and protested in an almost clichéd way, and wondered if she was in for a real nasty spanking and, if so, why. But barely had the spanking begun and her bottom begun to smart than it stopped, and she was dumped onto the floor. Gently dumped to be sure, but dumped nevertheless. Jack stood up and abruptly walked out of the kitchen and went upstairs.
Butterfly stood, her pyjama bottoms around her ankles, her bottom stinging and her mouth open. What the heck had all that been about? She rubbed her bottom and pulled up her shorts before washing up the chocolate bits and pieces, and then slowly went up the stairs to bed still rubbing her bottom. It had only been a half a spanking, but it still stung. She was just getting into bed when the door opened and there was Jack again. Butterfly wondered if she was just about to get the other half of the spanking.
"I spanked you because I didn't know how else to stop myself taking sexual advantage of you."
Butterfly's first thought was, "Wow, don't stop yourself, Jack, let's get on with it," but realised it was probably not wise to say that. He was clearly struggling with his feelings, and she would really rather he didn't use the hairbrush which was still sitting on her dressing table.
"Oh, my goodness." Feeble but safe.
"Butterfly, I love you. I have never met a girl like you before or ever felt like this about any girl. Please will you... will you do me the great honour of marrying me."
"Oh my, this is... so unexpected." As soon as she said those words she wondered if she was parroting what the writer had written. Surely she would never say something so ridiculously hackneyed as that.
Once again, Jack moved with astonishing speed, but not to begin spanking her this time. Instead, he took her in his arms and began kissing her passionately. Butterfly had no hesitation in kissing him right back every bit as passionately and, as she felt his manhood swell, had high hopes of losing her virginity, but it was not to be; not that night anyhow. He separated and told her he was in the wrong to do this, but once again asked if she would marry him.
"Jack, I love you," she began, pleasantly surprised to find that was really true, "but you've taken me by surprise. Please will you wait until tomorrow? I promise I will answer you tomorrow."
He kissed her, gently this time, and left, telling her to take all the time she needed, but she tossed and turned the rest of the night, wondering at this turn of events. Butterfly was worried; she loved Jack but he was just a character in a spanking romance so how on earth could she marry him? What happened when they got to the end of the plot, did they start again? Then there was the question of going back to her real life; suppose she wanted to go back? You can't just ditch a husband, and what about children? Could she have children in a spanking novel? If so, what about their lives? Clever though she was, her head whirled, and she decided she had to consult Uncle Dragonfly.
Since times in the books and in 'real life' (whatever that meant) were different, a quick visit home would not be a problem. She waited until after breakfast the next morning, switched on her transmitter and pressed 'home'.
Back safely in her real life, she hurried along to Uncle Dragonfly's house, going straight down the back way to the garden.
"Hi, Uncle Dragonfly."
"Ah Butterfly, I can see you've been using the F. I. D. a fair bit. Enjoying it all?"
"Well, yes, wonderful but I have a problem: the vicar in the book I'm in wants to marry me and it raises all sorts of problems."
"Yes, indeed it can do. To take a simple example, you couldn't insert into Jane Eyre and become a rival for Rochester's hand without changing the whole plot. Just imagine all those films at total variance to the book after you've changed it... unthinkable. However, a spanking romance..."
"You know?!"
"Yes, yes of co
urse; it's a safeguard in case two people try to insert into the same book. Can't have day-trippers turning up in thousands. As I was saying, a spanking romance, however, isn't that much of a problem as long as the spankings and romance carry on. By the way, your Great Aunt Edith was very much into having her bottom spanked... must be genetic. I'll have to investigate that one day."
"But what happens at the end of the book and, anyway, what about children?"
"Oh, you'll be helping the author. Just think about it for a moment - how better to continue a spanking romance than with a spanking marriage. Sequel after sequel all appearing on Kindle with people asking what Butterfly's latest adventure is. No, go back to your spanking vicar, my dear, and have a wonderful life, because it's a romance and you know how they all go, don't you."
Butterfly smiled. "Yes... and they all lived happily ever after."
Also by Susan Thomas...
Scenes of Domestic Discipline: Book 1
This first volume of stories by Susan Thomas, based around the common theme of domestic discipline, features the following stories:
Crossing the Line: A shy but attractive lady embarks on a Norwegian cruise featuring the entertainment theme of 'Crossing The Line' of the Arctic Circle, but with an exciting and unexpected twist. At thirty two years of age there were many lines in her life still needing to be crossed, but none more important than getting her first sound and thorough old-fashioned spanking. Unbeknownst to her, however, a handsome traveller from America, with a firm understanding of old-fashioned discipline, also happens to be on board.
