The Disciplined Women of Chapel Island

by Susan Thomas

  I arrived in time for the interview dressed smartly, heaven knows why, it surely wouldn't make much difference if I was in shorts and T shirt. The receptionist showed me to a room where there was a long oak table behind which sat Sir Charnock and Lady Forbes and Mr and Mrs Whaley. To be honest it wasn't much different to my university interviews, they even asked me about what I was reading. It only departed when they asked about boyfriends. Well before David I had been out with boys, but were they boyfriends? I told them I had never fancied myself in love with any of them. It lasted about an hour and then they asked me to step outside for a while. When I was invited back in it was all smiles, I was accepted as a member.

  I was taken through the administration by a coolly efficient young woman and I couldn't help wondering if she too was subject to corporal correction like the waitresses. Then I had an identification card and a number, 0586547. Apparently the 05 told the computer I was a single woman.

  As I walked home I suddenly realised that I could now get penalty points. I had only to walk down the middle of the road and cause a golf cart to swerve and I would be at the House of Guardians having my bottom whacked. It dawned on me that there wasn't really any turning back now for a year - it was a very scary moment. I know other people get moments like that where you wonder what you have got yourself in to.

  Mum and dad looked very anxious but made the best of it and dad even cracked open a bottle of champagne but I don't think his heart was in celebrating. Mum silenced all talk for a while by pointing out she and I could be stark naked and standing next to each other at an Accountability session. I couldn't work out whether that scared or excited me.

  It took very little time for me to get a penalty. It was almost as if fate had waited until the moment I signed up and then pulled the rug. The problem was caused by my own idiocy. I now had my own login to the intranet but I didn't bother checking over all the rules and so on for members. Just two days after I became a member I went off to work and came back at lunchtime having done all I needed that day. I had sailing planned with David for the afternoon. I went to get on the ferry and a Guardian asked for my member ID card.

  "Oh sorry, I don't have it with me, I left it at home. I have to have one for work and just forgot to pick up both, but you know me, you've seen me dozens of times."

  "I do know you Miss and I will let you on the ferry because I do, but members are obliged to carry their ID cards at all times. It is an offence not to do so. There is a fine for the gentlemen and I am sorry but a penalty point for the ladies. I know your name so I will be entering one penalty on the system."

  I felt extraordinarily weak. I just said, "Oh OK. Sorry about that," and got on the ferry. I was about to get my very first ever experience of corporal correction.

  When I got home, Mum shouted a welcome from the kitchen. She was having a dinner party and was busy preparing desserts. I shouted out that I had just got a penalty and she came out of the kitchen clutching a piping bag and looking anxious.

  "Oh Kate darling. Well this is the reality of island life, you would sign up for it."

  I washed my hands and began helping Mum with the final touches to the desserts but all the time my ears were straining for the telephone. Sure enough about thirty minutes later there was a phone call from the House of Guardians. The Guardian on the phone was most terribly courteous but I had a penalty and must take the first consequence at the earliest opportunity. Did I want to come immediately and get it over with? My mum stood looking at me and hearing the question nodded at me as if to say best now than stew over it, so I agreed. I refused Mum's offer to take me in her golf cart and instead set off on foot, my heart pounding.

  I had such a mixture of feelings. It was going to happen but what had seemed so exciting in my imagination now was frightening and yet... there was also this little whisper inside my head telling me how good it would be - the whole ritual, the pain of the cane (at the House of Guardians only the cane was used which wasn't true elsewhere), the fact I now had to take it but only because I had chosen to be a member.

  I walked quickly but even so it was about ten minutes before I walked through the door of the House of Guardians and spoke to the genial officer at reception, "I have a penalty and said I would come along straight away."

  "Ah yes, you must be Miss Freckleton. I'll show you to the Accountability Suite, Miss. Your first visit is it?"

  "Er, yes."

  "Nervous, I expect. Well don't worry, it's all quite civilised. I think you are the youngest we have ever had visit us, so quite a day for us all."

  He was very kind and kept up a gentle flow of good natured talk which stopped me from getting total cold feet and running out of the door. The reality of the situation was now overwhelming all my fantasies. He walked me to the door marked Accountability Suite which I had seen swinging shut when I spied on mum. Now I noticed there was no door handle to open it but a small numbered pad beside the door into which he tapped a number too quickly for me to read. It immediately swung open letting us into a lobby. It was very pleasant. One wall was light wood panelling, there was subtle recessed lighting, the remaining walls were a very gentle lilac adorned with small modern watercolours. Classical piano music was playing softly and a light wood floor hosted beautifully comfortable armchairs around a large coffee table on which lay copies of magazines. Opposite the way we had come in was another door which was firmly shut. The lobby had a softly cool feel which told of well-adjusted air conditioning.

  "Now you just sit yourself down here Miss and they'll be out in a minute. There is another member just finishing off in there."

  I could hear nothing so the sound-proofing must be excellent. My kindly guide left and I sat nervous beyond belief. Why had I let myself in for this? I must be mad for it didn't even end here, after this I still had to visit a senior man and then there was the quarterly dinner-dance. I must be stark raving mad. But then that inner voice began to whisper again. Don't listen to your fear. Of course it will hurt but just think of the ritual. Think of the marks. Think how much you've wanted this.

  I was about to tell the inner voice to shut up when the door opened and a Guardian looked in and said very politely, "Miss Freckleton we are ready for you now."

  My heart was banging and I felt really shaky as I stood and walked towards the door. I tried to tell myself it was only three strokes, but it didn't help. The same décor continued into this second room. The difference was there was no piped music and one wall appeared to be a huge mirror. I knew that behind that apparent mirror was a viewing area in which might be any number of people including non-members visiting island residents. Parallel to this mirrored wall was what looked like one of those gymnastic vaulting horses, the sort without handles. It even had adjustable legs. The only thing was it seemed a bit smaller and narrower. I guessed I had to bend over it with my bottom facing the mirror so that anyone watching would have a good view. Close to the 'horse' was a sort of clothes stand. I guess with so many rich people the ladies would not be wanting to dump clothing on the floor.

  There were three uniformed Guardians (all men) in the room. One did not have his jacket on but was wearing the uniform shirt with short sleeves. He had the cane in his hand. Mum had shown me dad's cane - it was quite a light looking thing about three feet long but this Guardian one was a good metre or so long and looked considerably nastier to my scared eyes. It was a plain yellow colour, no crooked handle, no special hand-hold taped around the end... just plain pain.

  The Guardian who had called me in began. "Your first time I believe, Miss Freckleton, so I'll just explain exactly what you have to do. First of all your skirt..."

  As I had been at work I was wearing a flared summer skirt that was just formal enough to be OK in the office with a simple white blouse and no tights or anything, just open sandals on my feet.

  "Your skirt is best removed. You can just lift it but most of our ladies prefer to remove skirts altogether." It suddenly crossed my mind that quite a few of the women on
the island wore a dress. What did they do? Take it off altogether? "Then you must either lower your underwear or remove it altogether."

  My face got hot. As it was a skirt not trousers I had worn knickers not thongs, pretty ones too. They were pink with a lace edging around the legs and a flower across the front. It's quite a personal thing, and now I was going to show all that to these three men and whoever might be watching. This was the reality of all my fantasies. How did my mum do it? I undid the clip on my skirt and unzipped it. It wasn't easy as my hands were shaking. It slipped down my legs as if eager to be gone and I hung it on the clothes stand. Turning back to the horse was not easy. Walking around in my knickers in front of heaven knows how many was not easy but I did it.

  "Now Miss I think that is just about the right height for you, we can adjust it but I think that will do. Please lower your underwear or remove and then bend right over. You'll find you can get a good grip on the legs and I recommend you do that as it is your first time. We are authorised to add extra strokes if you jump up."

  I just nodded my reply, I wasn't sure of my voice. This was it! Standing in front of the 'horse' I took a deep breath and pulled my knickers right down to my ankles. Then after a moment's thought I kicked them off and there they remained under the horse. I bent right over the horse feeling very exposed indeed to the watchers behind the mirrored wall. The Guardian was right, the legs on the other side were easy to reach and made for a good hand hold. I gripped the legs tightly and wondered just how painful it would be.

  The shirt-sleeved one with the cane moved around behind me. I felt him pull my blouse up out of the way. He left it half way up my back. Then I felt the cane rest on my bottom, cold against my warmth. It lifted off and I tensed but it only came back gently. Getting the range right I guessed. It lifted again and then came back with a slight tap which stung slightly. He might only have been getting the range but waiting was torture. I heard nothing at all, when suddenly the cane hit me with force right across the centre of my bottom.

  It hit so hard it felt as if it had driven right deep down into my bottom but for a millisecond there was no pain, and then the pain hit, like a flash of lightening followed by the thunder. My head went up and I sucked in every bit of air in the room with a cry. It burned so fiercely deep into me as if I had been branded with a fiery rod.

  Every nerve in my body screamed out against the assault but I stayed bent over but with every sense tuned. This time I heard something; it was a whooshing sound which had to be the cane, and I tensed and shut my eyes. This time the pain seemed to hit straight away and I cried out while my hands convulsed on the legs of the 'horse.'

  Now I had two burning throbbing lines across my bottom but only one to come. I breathed in and out, ears tuned for the whoosh of the cane. The Guardian seemed to be taking his time with each stroke, part of the entertainment for those watching I suppose. Then I heard it, that chilling whoosh and immediately there was another hard blow across my bottom. It was far worse than the other two for it seemed to land on top of one of the previous ones. It hurt so much my head shot up again and this time I really yelled out so loudly it seemed to echo around the room. I stamped my foot but stayed in position quite forgetting that was it for the moment. My bottom seemed one throb of burning lines and that was just three strokes.

  "Miss Freckleton you may stand and dress."

  Chapter 7

  The Five sat in private session, the only matter on the agenda Emma Freckleton.

  Number 1 commanded, "Number 5, please report on progress."

  "Kate applied for membership - no surprise given her reactions to what she has been researching. Sir Graham and Lady Freckleton are quite concerned but I will ensure that it is suggested to them that it is a passing phase and that she will be off to university next year. That will help allay their fears."

  There were nods of approval around the table. Number 2 wanted to know how she did in the psychological evaluation of suitability.

  "The highest score we have ever had, eminently suitable. With that and her independence of mind and her ability she has the highest potential of anyone. She could be one of us quite easily. I have given her a little test more to help clarify her feelings than anything. I got the Guardians to ask for her ID coming back on the ferry. The cameras in her room showed she had left it behind."

  There was laughter around the table. Number 4 also had a question.

  "Even though a single woman's fees are not that high she has only a part-time job and her personal allowance and she is going to college. Will her father help out?"

  Number 5 replied, "He will but I doubt she'll want it. She doesn't have a car either and although he'd buy her one if she asked, she won't, I am quite sure. I have a plan though but need to use others to slip it into her thinking. I'll let you know more at a later date.

  ---oOo---

  I discovered, something I should have known if I had read the members' manual properly that after re-dressing (pulling my knickers over my sore bottom was exquisitely painful) that I had to shake hands with the Guardian who caned me and thank him and then thank the other two. They were very kind though, and like teachers patiently explained my duties to me.

  There was another way to go out, I guess so those waiting in the lobby would not be upset by a recently 'corrected' lady. Walking was a strange experience; movement pulled the welts on my bottom and hurt, making me want to take small steps. I could hardly believe the painful effect of just three strokes and there were more to come. As I stepped out into the hot sunshine I had to laugh - Mum was there with the golf cart and she'd put a cushion on the seat. As I eased myself down on the cushion she laughed and said, "Hurts more than imagination doesn't it."

  I agreed but even as I spoke a wave of elation was washing over me. I felt terrific, throbbing bottom or not. My mind started replaying the whole scene and now it was not scary but delicious. I did feel as if I was weird but then I thought that I didn't care. Weird or not I was glad I had that experience. My mobile alerted me to a text message and I had a look; it was from the Guardians and informed me that the senior man that would replace Dad was Sir Charnock Forbes. I either had to ring Sir Charnock as soon as possible or, if I now wished my father to do it, let the House of Guardians know immediately. I rang Sir Charnock straight away.

  "Ah yes my dear Kate, I may address you as Kate may I?"

  "Of course Sir Charnock." Well I wasn't going to put his back up now was I?

  "How are you placed my dear, for tomorrow morning quite early, say nine o'clock?"

  I reviewed quickly what I had to do at work which wasn't much at present. It was a brilliant job like that with very flexible hours as long as I got the work done and dealt immediately with urgent matters. I agreed to arrive at his house at nine.

  "Excellent my dear Kate. I'll give some thought as to what I am going to use on you. I think that will be a task involving two glasses of sherry." He laughed before saying goodbye.

  Back at home I looked at my bottom with Mum. I was right, the third stroke had partly landed along the line of one of the other two. One stood out on its own, a raised large welt terribly hard and sore to touch. The other two merged and the skin on top looked as if it had come close to breaking. Mum said my skin type must be given to swelling up hard like that but in spite of the soreness I was excited by what I could see. I kept wanting to go and look, gingerly touching the welts almost like a lover.

  Mum offered to come with me to see Sir Charnock but I refused. It wasn't because I don't love her or anything it is just I wanted to stand on my own feet. Later though I had a 'phone call from Aileen Dunbar.

  "I'll pick you up tomorrow Kate, around 8:50."

  What the heck? How did she find out and what had it to do with her? As if hearing my thoughts she explained Lady Forbes was away overnight and not back until the afternoon. It wasn't permitted for Sir Charnock to administer correction to a lady on his own so he had asked Aileen to chaperone.

  "But why you Aileen?"<
br />
  She laughed. "Because my pet I have the most punished bum on the island. What with my hubby and all the penalties I get I am never without a sore bum. Now wear shorts tomorrow and plain white knickers under... explain tomorrow. Byeee."

  She picked me up the next day in her golf cart which she drove with one hand while talking non-stop and with little regard for the rules of the road. I was wearing the shorts she had suggested the night before, and a plain pair of white cotton knickers which I had when I was in a school play and had to wear a long white diaphanous gown.

  "OK why am I wearing these?"

  "For the men of course."

  "Men? What men?"

  "Well whenever a senior man gets to punish a lady he likes to invite a few friends along to watch and you Kate, are a big attraction."

  "Why?" I wasn't sure I liked being an attraction.

  "Well you're new for a start. Let's face it, they've seen my bum whacked many times but not yours. Besides which you are a curiosity. Up until now Michelle Riley has been the youngest member ever and she was nearly twenty-one when she came here. You're still eighteen and not nineteen until September."

  "Yes OK I get it. I'm an attraction but why the shorts and plain knickers?"

  "Well it's hot weather." I glared at her, so she grinned and carried on. "And let's face it, the men like the innocent youngster in the white knickers scenario."

  "So I'm like some kind of titillation for them?"

  "Oh don't be so naïve Kate, of course you are, and their wives will get the benefit later. They'll have stiffies like they've had a whole bottle of Viagra. After the accountability sessions at the dinner dances there's more shagging goes on here than in the rest of the world put together."

  I went very red at all this right from my neck up to the roots of my hair. I knew that from how it felt. My blushes embarrass me... so uncool.