by Susan Thomas
"Which means what? Torture? Death?"
He looked truly shocked. "No woman! Good Lord, what on earth do you think we are? Spanking a woman's bottom is one thing...torture and killing quite another. Torture is forbidden under our law, although we do have the death penalty, but only for murder. If Lancaster decides you are a danger to the Theocracy you will be exiled. They will just send you to another alternate version of Earth, but don't forget you'd be dumped with no money and no papers. No one bothers to check on their welfare."
I sneered, "That's not very Christian is it."
"No, it isn't, but it is about protecting our fragile stability. It was hard won, and we aren't letting go of it, just because a young woman turns up who doesn't like the way we do things. Now that is enough, I have work to do. I'll give you your spanking at bedtime. You come with me. I need to supervise the milking."
I thought cows, but when we got to the large sheds several workers were milking goats ... lots and lots of goats. Bill accepted my surprise and just said that was the way things worked out. He sold some milk directly to a cooperative and the rest he used to make butter and cheese which he sold with his imprint. He also had a market garden area which produced vegetables. In the course of the next few hours I discovered he generated electricity for the milking machines. He had two large streams that fell steeply down from the hills above his farm and he ran small hydro-electric generators from them. The power also pumped water from a well and provided lighting and heated water. There was a septic tank that provided civilised sewage, and in general I was impressed with his establishment. He clearly was a man of some substance but I guessed there were a lot of people whose living conditions were not so good.
I helped as best I could and he seemed pleased with my attitude. All the time I was busily telling myself he wouldn't really spank me again. We ate that evening in the kitchen at the large table. It was goat stew with root vegetables served with big chunks of dark, rich bread, and there were apples for dessert. He had made the stew himself and I just had to be nosey.
"This is a big farmhouse for you to live in by yourself."
"I am widower. My wife died trying to deliver our first child. It was meant to be a family house."
I mumbled the usual platitudes and helped clear up after our meal. We sat that evening in the warmth of the kitchen. Bill seemed to be writing up some journal and I read the encyclopaedia which confirmed everything he had told me. The world was indeed a different one from the Earth I had left. It was early when Bill announced it was bedtime but it was winter dark outside and I guessed farmers had to be up early. I began to feel nervous although he hadn't mentioned the spanking at all.
In the bathroom I decided that since he hadn't mentioned the spanking again it wasn't going to happen. We had, after all, been getting on well and he liked the interest I had shown in all that he did. After a shower I put on one of his sister's long soft nightdresses; it made me feel so feminine and I regretted not having bought something like this before. I walked back to the bedroom feeling really quite relaxed and there was Bill sitting on the bed waiting with a hairbrush beside him.
Chapter 3
My usually sharp mind was reduced to panicked stupidity. "Wh-what are you doing?"
"I'm going to give you your bedtime spanking of course. Did you think I'd forgotten?"
"I can't believe you are serious about this? You yourself said it was a minor matter."
"You spoke without an invitation and the tone of your question was critical, implying our beliefs were wrong. It's only a spanking, and once given the matter is closed. I don't want to spank you but I have no choice. You were offensive both to Master Cartwright and our beliefs."
"Can't you just say you did it? You already spanked me once."
"No, apart from telling a lie, you don't know Master Cartwright. Now just come over here and let's get this done; sooner started sooner finished."
I went.
When I was standing next to him he said, "Now just pull that nightdress up to your middle and I'll help you over my lap."
I was shocked, "What do you mean? I don't have knickers on. Surely you're not planning to spank me bare?"
"Of course."
"But you didn't do that this morning."
"That was entirely different. Please Sarah, do not make this any harder for yourself than it already is."
I despised my weakness but I was in such a difficult position. "But you have a hairbrush there. You're not planning to hit me with that... are you?"
He suddenly looked mischievous. "It's a spanking not hitting and it will be just a few at the end. Then I'll tell Master Cartwright I used hand and hairbrush but I'll do it in such a way that he will assume the balance was very much in favour of the hairbrush."
I think it was that mischief that made me cooperate. It was terrible, but I pulled the nightdress up around my middle exposing myself in such an embarrassing way. Bill guided me carefully, almost gently, across his lap. I felt stupid, humiliated and embarrassed, especially when he rested his hand on my bare bottom.
"Are you ready?"
I wasn't sure whether my reply was a laugh or a cry and the next minute his hand smacked down hard on my right cheek. I cried out, but before I had any time to register how much it stung his hand smacked down again on my left cheek. I had thought my earlier spanking had hurt but this one on my bare skin was far worse. The sting was intense and made me jerk around and kick my legs. Each smack was deliberate and hard with a pause in between, and he began to scold me as he spanked.
"Are you going to speak out of turn again?"
"Ow! No, no..."
Smack! "Sorry, say that again."
"No, no I promise." I jiggled and writhed around on his lap but didn't actually fight him this time. My legs kicked up with every hard smack and my bottom swiftly grew unbelievably hot and sore. "I'm sorry! Please stop."
He did not stop but he did pause. "Tell me how you will behave in future when with other people."
"I'll ask permission to speak."
Smack! Smack! "And what else?"
"I won't say anything critical. I get it, I really do. I see it's important to keep things stable."
"Good," he said and I was foolish enough to think that the spanking would now be over. Instead he just crossed one leg over mine and then really began to spank very hard and very fast. I screeched almost continuously and managed to get my right hand free and tried to cover my bottom. Total waste of effort. He just grabbed my arm again and began to spank me even harder. My cries were shrill and continuous it was hurting so much I couldn't even plead, just screech.
He paused for a moment and I gasped out, "Please stop, it hurts."
"I know it does. It's a spanking Sarah and it's teaching you an important lesson."
He went back to his deliberate smacks with a pause between each but my now my bottom was so sore every smack had me screeching anyway. Finally he stopped spanking me and I gasped with relief even though my bottom was burning furiously. Then I sensed him groping for the hairbrush and I screamed, "No, please Bill don't use that. My bottom is so sore already."
"Just a few Sarah and then it's over."
"Just one, please, just one."
"Six, then I can be convincing when I report on your punishment."
I had thought his hand hard when it smacked down on my bottom but it was as nothing compared to the intensity of sting that the hairbrush generated. "Yeoow!" I screeched. "That's one."
Why I counted them I don't know. He didn't ask me to but I did. He spanked first one cheek then the other and I cried out, in an ever higher screech, the number of each one. I was even more vocal with the sixth stroke than the others, then he was gently helping me up. I was surprised to find I wasn't crying as much as I had that morning but why I'm not sure. It was just gentle tears trickling down my cheeks.
He hugged me and said in the gentlest way, "My poor Sarah, this has been a real baptism of fire for you hasn't it. The problem is, you are
in a very different world and must adapt very quickly. Of all the people you had to argue with, Master Cartwright was the worse. Not even I could have protected you from punishment, but it was best I did it."
Then I burst into tears, great wracking sobs, and he pulled me up into his lap and held me tight stroking my back and being very kind. Everything that had happened to me came to mind and I began to really sob for my parents, for Simon, my job and this strange world in which I found myself. I cried and cried until I was hoarse and exhausted. He used a handkerchief to dry my tears and blow my nose. When I had finished I was calm again although my bottom was still very, very sore.
"Now that, young lady, was not crying about the spanking I gave you. What was all that about?"
He listened most carefully as I told him everything that happened, and he was so gentle with me the whole time. It was extraordinary for he was a big burly man yet so tender. When I had finished he kissed my forehead.
"When you were driving your car you really wanted to die didn't you?"
I was ashamed of my weakness but had to agree but hastened to add, "I don't feel like that now."
"No, no, that's good. I have a theory, dismissed as nonsense by my brother in law, that transferees are people given a second chance. You wanted to die and did but God, or Fate or Nature or...whatever, was giving you a second chance to look at life in a different way."
Now I know what you may be thinking at this point. You're thinking I had every reason to be angry with him and also to pour scorn on a crackpot idea worthy of some weird cult religion. In fact I gave little thought to his idea at that point, I was just enjoying being in his arms. I felt safe. I felt cared for. It was lovely. I didn't have to put on my high flyer act, he wasn't interested in that. He'd spanked me, not once, but twice in just one day, but oddly I bore no resentment; he'd also rescued me and had been kind and understanding. In fact, I now realised that although Simon would never have spanked me he was also incapable of this level of kind sensitivity.
As he held me I felt a warmth stealing over me. I put my face into his chest and sniffed hard. He smelt of trees in the snow, of warm barns with straw, of log fires and hot drinks. I looked up at him and he kissed me... tentatively at first, and then finding me willing, strongly. I kissed him back and let my tongue explore him. I could feel him breathing hard and I wanted him...wanted him in me. I wanted him to have me strongly... fiercely. I made it clear that I did. He pushed me down on my back and pulled my nightdress right up, practically to my neck, exposing my breasts as well as everything else. He knelt up for a moment and undid the belt and buttons on his trousers (I noticed there was no zip) and pulled them down exposing his manhood. He was big and very hard already.
I spread my legs and grabbed hold of him guiding him to where I wanted him to be. He didn't disappoint me. He was gentle but powerful...really powerful, and I lay back with a sigh of pleasure. Effortlessly he held himself up on his hands and feet and thrust into me with a wonderful rhythm. I lost myself in the pleasure of it all. He was so strong... so powerful... so smooth in the way he rode me. My hot sore bottom ground into the sheets but it was a pleasure not a pain. I loved it and then I was coming in a huge tidal wave of intense feeling that made me scream and hold on tightly to him. He was lost by now in his own pleasure and then he gave a great cry and began thrusting hard, pumping his semen deep into me.
We lay together afterwards, saying nothing, but I felt closer to this man I'd known only one day than I ever did to Simon. He lifted up on one easy arm and held my face with his hand and looked at me. Then he said in a serious way... intensely as if it was deeply important to him, "I don't think it is just you getting a second chance."
---oOo---
We lay for some while looking at each other and it dawned on me that he was a real man and not at all like Simon. Oh, Simon had been a good lover right enough. He knew lots of tricks to make me orgasm and did, but it was all so...learnt. He'd read magazines and was proud of his knowledge and technique. Bill knew nothing of techniques; he was just a big strong man who had given me the most earth shattering orgasm I ever had. Simon had been muscular in that carefully crafted way that told of hours in the gym with a personal trainer. Bill was muscular from work... real, honest hard work. Bill wore no expensive after shave or designer clothes but he was far more attractive than Simon. He was also kinder and gentler which may sound odd given he had spanked me, but he really was.
I knew my reactions were all odd. I was acting like some stupid heroine in a badly written romance. I had been brought up to be a modern, strong independent career woman but here I was doing the 'melting into his arms' bit. The fact is that it was lovely. Bill was big, strong, caring and absolutely lovely, plus he was turning me on as never before.
After a while I began to think I'd like a repeat performance so I began to unbutton his shirt. I'd never seen anything so thick in all my life. He just lay there smiling at me while I did it but he helped me take it off. Underneath he had a thick undershirt and with his help I took that off too. Boy was he muscular and with a wonderful hairy chest. I'd never liked men with hairy chests before but this was lovely and I had to run my hands over it and through the tiny curls. He just grinned at me.
I'd never behaved quite like this with anyone else, but I just didn't care what kind of impression I was giving, he was having such an intoxicating effect on me. His trousers and underpants were already undone but now I began to pull them off and I could see that he was already partly erect. I hurried the remaining clothes off and for good measure took his thick socks off as well. He had a magnificent body - a sort of Hercules of Earth Zero. I took hold of his penis and he became fully erect and hard in seconds. My whole body was pulsing with strong feelings the like of which I had never before experienced.
"I suppose you think me some kind of wanton."
He grinned. "No I think we are made for each other." With that he pulled off my nightdress and began to run his hands over my body sending tingles to shatter every single part of me. He began nuzzling my breasts, my neck...oh just about everywhere and I lay back, my eyes shut, adoring everything he did. I kept my hands on him somewhere feeling his back or running my fingers through his hair. There was somebody whimpering... it was me and it was with pleasure.
Then I felt him entering me and opened my eyes and lifted myself to watch him. He did it slowly looking at me intensely to see what effect it was having. The effect was me greedy for him... anxious for him to be in me, but he wouldn't. He teased me, just pulling in and out and never going fully in, until I thought I'd scream. Finally he did what my body craved and entered me fully making me groan aloud with pleasure. Then he rode me but not hard this time. It was as if he was enjoying every thrust and wanted to string the experience out. What he was doing was so lovely I gave no thought to anything but my pleasure. When we came it was together. I simply wrapped myself around him and held on tightly while my world exploded with pleasure and he poured himself into me. He fell asleep very quickly but I lay there for a while, his stuff pooling out underneath me, wondering just what had come over me.
Chapter 4
When I woke up the light outside was grey and cold and he was gone. I felt so alone at that point but I quickly realised where he was. He was a farmer and farmers must be up and about early. The room was cold (we hadn't lit the fire in there) and I scurried, shivering, to the window, my feet cold on the bare floorboards. It had snowed again in the night and I could see him with some of his men clearing paths through the new fall. I hurried to the bathroom and resisted the urge to stay a long time under the hot water. It did occur to me to wonder if he generated enough electricity, to heat water and provide lighting, why he couldn't use some to heat the house which was by no means warm. I dressed quickly and hurried down, deciding if I had behaved like some traditional woman I might as well do something traditional and make my man some breakfast. How quickly I was shedding my upbringing.
I came down into the kitchen which was already
pleasantly warm and pulled up short. The range cooker was fired by coal. I could see a strange container of it. I had no idea how to cook on such a thing. No gas. No instant electricity. No microwave. I was standing there gawping at it when a woman came bustling in.
"'Morning, flower."
"Good morning. My name is Sarah."
"I know, chick. Word spreads fast around here. I'm Lizzy. I clean and wash for Bill. I'll change your sheets."
I went red at what that implied but she didn't seem fussed at all. I stammered out my question. "How do you use this thing?"
She laughed and showed me how to use a metal tool to lift a lid and put more coal in. I asked what one did next.
"Easy, chick. All you do is put whatever you want to cook on the hob or in the oven, but it'll take a while, and you'd best mind it. You'll soon get the hang of it. Use pot holders though my love or you'll burn yerself. Gets right hot it does."
"Has Bill had his breakfast?"
"No, flower. He'll have lit the fire and maybe had a beer and a crust. He comes back after his early tasks."
"What does he have?"
Well, she realised what I was about then and beamed with approval. Clearly her view was a woman should cook for her man. It seemed Bill had porridge. She showed me where the oats were stored. No syrup with it though. He used either jam or bottled fruit but apparently Bill had very little bottled fruit. I gathered that was because he had no woman about the place. Then he had bacon and eggs which were kept in the larder. Notice that there was no fridge! That was my next shock. No pack of bacon... no, there was a large piece of bacon hanging in the larder. I had to use a knife to cut thick slices.
