by Susan Thomas
The wailing reached a crescendo and then abruptly stopped. Everyone guessed that there wouldn't be silence, but they were unable to hear anything. A door was heard to open upstairs and then close again. As if this was the signal, everyone began to move and, with decent spaces between them, ascended the stairs to their rooms. Nobody used the back stairs.
On the landing, right by the large stained glass window, stood the girl. She had no skirt, knickers or shoes on. Her bare feet screwed into the carpet constantly, her hands were on her head, and she snivelled and sniffed with hunched shoulders and a slightly bowed head. It was her bottom, though, that got the most attention.
It was bright red over the whole of both cheeks from the curve of her hips right into the centre, where a pale line showed the limits of the hairbrush's reach. The redness extended down to the upper thighs and up to the uppermost limits of her bottom. The centre of both checks had a mottled effect where the hairbrush had done its worst. Kathy cringed inwardly as she knew that a bottom this sore would be hers at some point sooner or later; even so, she couldn't help reflecting that the spanking had been deserved because John clearly knew all about it, and his quiet authority preached love, headship and moderation in punishment.
Back in the room, Michael sensed his young bride's mental turmoil and calmed her with a loving hug as they got ready to go out into the April sunshine. But the young woman's spanking still occupied her thoughts, especially the extremely public display afterwards; she hoped that it would never happen to her and that any display of her spankings would be in the privacy of her home.
Sunday, of course, was a church based day. All the guests went to John and Madge's church where they were made very welcome. Kathy found it moving to be at worship with her new husband; it felt so right to her, and life was so good her heart swelled with pride at her handsome strong husband and her new life. As always in life, pride went before a fall.
Near the guest house was an old, large water mill, or rather the remains of one. Back in the sixteenth century it had been some sort of gunpowder works, but an explosion had destroyed much of it, and although attempts had been made to revive production, they had failed. Now, little was left and most was over grown, but the water channels and ponds were all still there, though in a terrible mess of weed and overhanging trees. It held a dark and gloomy attraction. John and Madge warned all guests that the weeds and overgrowing trees combined with its utterly neglected condition, meant it was dangerous to go near any of the water channels or ponds which were unsafe and no place for a walk.
That Kathy wanted to go out for a walk in the evening before their meal was unusual, but she felt the need. That Michael thought there too little time, was correct. That he specifically told her to go only around the grounds she knows is true. That she disobeyed him and rejected John's advice, is fact. That she slipped on the path by one of the ponds and fell in is a matter of record. That she didn't drown, held down by the grasping weeds, was down to luck and two dog walkers who had heard her cries. Kathy ended up in hospital being checked over while Michael fretted, anxiously awaiting the doctor's verdict.
Kathy was fine apart from being wet and cold so Michael could now be cross, something he made clear on the way back to the guest house. By the time they were back safely in their room it was late and Kathy was in no fit state to be corrected. "Tomorrow morning after breakfast I am going to punish you," Michael told her, looking very much like a stern judge. He left to have a word with John, and Kathy knew what would happen, she was going to get spanked just like the poor girl on Saturday (who now couldn't meet anyone without blushing), she was going to be made to stand on the landing with her bottom on display. She shrivelled with worry, not feeling like sex but expecting that is what Michael would want when he got back. Michael, though, simply held her tenderly in a close cuddle until she fell asleep.
It was early when she woke up, Easter Monday and a public holiday; what were they doing today? Then, with a stomach churn, she remembered: she was to be spanked this morning and stood on the landing for all to see. She felt sick; it was all a mistake; she was a grown woman not a child; she couldn't accept such treatment, but she knew that she would. She had promised to obey in her wedding vows, much to the disgust of several of her more strident female relatives. It was what she believed, wasn't it, but belief is all very well until it is tested.
She dressed dutifully, and accompanied Michael down to an early breakfast, although she felt too sick to eat anything. She sat toying with a piece of toast and a cup of coffee while Madge gave her sympathetic looks. By the time Michael had finished, the dining room was filling up. The couples with children finished and left for the seaside, clattering buckets, spades and picnics, but the others were all there, both the elderly and the middle-aged and, of course, the other young couple who were not honeymooners but still young all the same. She, poor girl, was still blushing every time someone spoke to her, but perhaps that's what she always did.
John came over and spoke quietly. "I shall make the announcement now the children have all gone, you might want to leave before I do so." Kathy couldn't get out fast enough which made John smile a little. Madge whispered to her, "Don't worry, you'll be fine; remember it is what you wanted and know to be right."
As Michael and Kathy went upstairs, John stood to make his announcement. He created a great deal of interest, the second disciplinary spanking in just a few days. They all worked out that it was the honeymoon couple and most guessed the reason why. There were comments passed around, and all agreed that she rather deserved it and that it would do her the world of good. Only one person said nothing but simply blushed deeply.
When they got to their room, Michael was brisk as she stood in front of him, her eyes downcast and her whole body quivering with nervousness and resolve.
"Do I need to explain why I am going to punish you?"
She shook her head. "No Michael, I am sorry about what happened."
"OK then, shoes, skirt and knickers right off altogether please."
Kathy had chosen suitable clothing that morning, aided by the unusually warm weather. She slipped off sandals, and her lightweight skirt was easily removed as were her knickers. She wore a simple (if rather expensive) top which did not come down to cover any part of her bottom but it didn't matter if it got crushed. Naked below the waist, she went and stood in front of her husband.
Michael sternly instructed her to place herself over his lap. Perhaps it was because this was real punishment that it felt awkward: her tummy felt squashed; her bottom cold and exceedingly vulnerable. She couldn't remember what she had done with her hands last time so she put them flat on the floor. Then came the first smack of the hairbrush.
The snap of it filled the room and Kathy's "Ow" filled the room with its shock; it felt far worse than that first spanking. Perhaps it was her tension. Kathy's hands left the floor abruptly and, as the smacks grew in number, they began to clench and unclench. Finally, she found she could reach the chair legs, so she grabbed them and held on tightly. As the spanking developed, she began to move, she simply couldn't stop herself. Her bottom wriggled all of its own accord, trying to avoid the burning paddle. Her legs stretched and moved, her feet began to stretch and curl, she could even feel her legs begin to see-saw up and down, all of which was stupid because the rapidly escalating sting and burning heat was all in her bottom.
She didn't want to beg or plead because this was her chosen path; she knew her spanking was well deserved but taking it was so hard. She began a gasping shout of "Oh, Michael!" as a relief from the burning sting that grew worse on her bottom.
Suddenly, the spanking grew in speed and intensity, and poor Kathy's legs began to kick wildly and her whole body, though firmly held by her husband, started to buck under the treatment of the paddle. Her cries, clearly heard by those still breakfasting in the dining room, grew shrill, loud and desperate. When she was helplessly sobbing over his lap with all resistance gone, he stopped.
She knelt on
the floor, her head on his lap, and wailed, saying how sorry she was for her disobedience and putting herself in danger. He comforted her briefly and helped to dry her eyes (though tears kept flowing) and blow her nose, but she knew her punishment was not over. "Come on Kathy darling, let's get this bit done." He led her out of the room and down the corridor to the staircase, and placed her in the same spot where the other girl had stood. He didn't have to instruct her to put her hands on her head; she did it voluntary although it was the first time in her life she had been placed in this position.
She was determined not to behave as the other girl had done. She stood upright, her head up albeit staring at the wall; her hands neatly on her head with her shoulders back, her elbows straight out. She felt it was only right that her public penance should be done properly, but her bottom burned and throbbed, pulsing with the pain of her spanking. The deserved pain of my spanking, she thought. She found that she was gripping and relaxing her toes into the carpet in an attempt to move without moving so to speak, then she remembered that the other girl's feet had screwed constantly into the carpet when she had stood there. That made her remember that any minute now everyone would walk past to view her bottom, and she straightened her back even more, pulled her shoulders back like a guardsman, and kept her head still and her eyes forward. Michael would be proud of her.
Soon, the first feet sounded on the staircase along with the rather artificial attempt of guests sounding as if they were talking naturally. Everyone knew that this was a public display and that was why they had all delayed coming up. Dress it up how you like, they were curious as she had been.
Kathy could feel the eyes boring into her bottom as what seemed like a thousand people passed by. She heard many comments...
"A good spanking that one, she'll have felt that."
"Won't do her any harm to feel her husband's hairbrush so early in their marriage."
"Frankly, I think she deserved that."
"I should have done that to you on our honeymoon, shame it took me so long to catch up."
That comment was followed by a little giggle which intrigued Kathy in spite of her throbbing smarting bottom.
At first, Kathy felt embarrassed and humiliated but determined to take it as she had her spanking, but then she began to think - she should not feel humiliated, at least not here in front of these people, for they shared her beliefs. In seeing her well-spanked with her bottom on display, they were helping her to live out her belief. She should feel pleased not embarrassed. Suddenly, her submission felt right, at least for her. She rejoiced that she had been spanked and made to stand here; she wondered if she could now be entirely open with her family.
Finally, she arrived at a point where she was able to think and feel that she was glad she had been punished and experienced this public penance on this her honeymoon.
Always Friends
"You'll have to take off your jeans and knickers," warned Amy. "All my spankings are on my bare bottom. If you want to share my punishment you'll have to do the same."
I gave a quick embarrassed glance at her husband, Peter, and, turning my back to him, started to do as she told me. She'd been punished and there was no way I could let that happen to her alone. I was determined that now it was my turn.
---oOo---
Amy and I had been friends since we were in nursery school together. We wore the same clothes, had the same likes and dislikes, shared our toys and were frequently mistaken for sisters. In fact, as we are physically similar, we were often taken for twins. It was our boast that "we always share everything."
Of course, we couldn't share husbands, and at twenty-two Amy had met Peter. He was sixteen years older than her and had been in the Army, the 'Parachute Regiment'. He was now a local businessman but was still very fit with marathon running and squash included in his sporting activities. They were married within the year, and I was jealous to the extent of throwing myself headlong into a relationship that was unsustainable. The inevitable happened, and I was left in a welter of self-recrimination and self-pity. Amy and Peter sent me an invitation to come and stay for a few weeks to "get over it", and I accepted.
From my first minute in their house it was clear that they were very much in love. She adored her manly and experienced husband, and he loved her energy, youth and beauty. It was also clear who was in charge. He was very much the boss, not in any dictatorial or unpleasant way, but he was the leader simply by his experience and authority. Amy looked up to him and expected him to tell her how things should be done. He did so, although very nicely indeed.
I had been there a few days when Amy suggested going out in the boat. This boat was a beauty in looks, and apparently the twin Volvo Penta engines meant that it had a great turn of speed. Peter was teaching Amy how to navigate and manage the boat. Peter was at work and I asked her if it would be OK with him if we went out in it together. Her evasive answer told me that I should say "no" to this scheme, but I didn't because it sounded exciting. Amy said that we could go out to an island and then come back; we would be gone about four hours with still plenty of time to prepare an evening meal.
Of course, everything went fine at first. We had a great time, but Amy made a muck of using the GPS, we went way off course on the way back, and it was much later than was intended when we began to near the marina. By then the wind had got up to such an extent that we were advised not to approach the marina but go further down the coast where there was a safer place to come in. We finally arrived home very late indeed and Peter was already there; he was clearly very worried but quickly became very cool when he heard our story.
"I told you, Amy, that you were never to go out in the boat on your own until you get all your certificates. Why did you do it? I suppose you were showing off, is that it?" Amy acknowledged that this was so and Peter said, "Right, upstairs you go; you know what happens now."
Of course, I had no idea what they were on about and said so, and Amy completely stunned me by explaining that she would now get a good hard spanking. Peter added to my bewilderment by adding that she would also be caned because she had put her life at risk, not to mention mine. They both explained that this was an agreement that had been made before their marriage. Amy's age and inexperience was to be tutored with a spanking (or worse) for silly or disobedient behaviour. They then went upstairs.
---oOo---
I heard the door to their bedroom shut and then I climbed the stairs quietly and stood outside their bedroom door. At first I heard only the sound of quiet voices, but soon I heard a sound that I quickly guessed to be a large man's hand spanking a girl's bare bottom. Amy and I got a few smacks as children but we were never spanked like that. It seemed to go on a long while and gradually I heard sounds that showed Amy was getting it good and hard. There then followed a period of quiet voices before I heard an unpleasant swishing sound followed by a sharp contact. Each contact produced a cry from Amy. I honestly didn't know what to do. Amy had seemed quite accepting of this, and they were married after all. It really was nothing to do with me except ... well, except that I knew I should have stopped her. I have known Amy long enough to know her mad ideas, and I should have poured cold water all over the idea or possibly 'phoned Peter. Eventually, the sound of the cane and the cries it produced, stopped. More quiet voices followed and I wondered what would happen next.
What happened was that the nature of the sounds changed completely and were accompanied by an undeniable rhythmic creaking from the bed that could only mean one thing: they were making love. I felt myself go scarlet and I fled downstairs to the living room. That was a big mistake, because it was directly below their bedroom and the creaking sounds coming from above were all too clear. I was embarrassed beyond belief and fled to the kitchen to prepare drinks for when they should come down.
---oOo---
While they were upstairs making the bed creak, I was downstairs thinking. I began to feel that Amy getting spanked and caned alone was really unfair: I had made no attempt to stop h
er and really I should have done so. Yes, she was the leader in mischief but I was her willing partner. We had always shared everything, but although I had shared the adventure and the guilt, I had not shared her punishment. I wondered if I had the courage to ask to be punished as well. There was also a 'teeny-weeny' bit of curiosity to know what it was like.
By the time they had finished and were on their way down, I had made up my mind what to do. I was going to be very calm, logical and reasoned. I would explain to Peter that I knew that Amy should have been stopped but that I also wanted to go out in the boat so I kept quiet. I would go on to explain that we had always been friends and shared everything so therefore I should be punished as well. All very well in theory. What happened was that I launched into an incoherent gabble and only Peter's calm questioning brought out what I was trying to say.
Peter accepted my request in a matter of fact sort of way, agreed that I did deserve a "tanned bottom" as he put it, and was happy to oblige. Amy's reaction was odd: she went all quiet and thoughtful before suddenly agreeing with enthusiasm. It was decided that I should be spanked in the sitting room, and Peter sat down on the sofa while I carried out Amy's instruction and pulled down my jeans and knickers. Getting across Peter's lap with my bottom bared ranks as one of the more embarrassing moments of my life, but then came the spanking. Peter asked me if I was ready, and when I nodded he began.
Never having been spanked before I had no idea what to expect, and although the first spanks stung they weren't too bad. "What was Amy fussing about?" I thought. Soon, however, the sting of each spank joined the earlier ones and became quite unbearable. I began to jerk and wriggle and cry. My bottom just got hotter and stingier with every smack. After a while I made a complete idiot of myself by adding pleas to my cries. "Please Peter, not so hard. You're really hurting me. No please. Oh, Peter, no". It was no relief when he finally pushed me off his lap because I knew there was still the cane to go.
