by Susan Thomas
Sally smiled. "I don't know. I know the theory is that it is abusive and we should fight it, but it doesn't feel like that. It might seem abusive to some women but not me and seemingly not you."
At that point my phone rang and I answered.
"Hi there. Are you Anne Anderton?"
"Yes, who are you?"
"I'm Sylvia McDonnell from Woman, Family and Home magazine. We have both a printed and an online magazine. I expect you've heard of us."
I hadn't. "Right, OK. So what do you want with me?"
"Well first off, let me say how sorry I am for your loss."
"Thank you but what do you want?"
"Well now you are a survivor of that incident in..."
"Ms McDonnell, that was no incident. It was murder. Don't mess with words, just call it what it was."
"My apologies, I had no intention of being offensive. We'd like to interview you as our readers are not just concerned about the... er... murders themselves, but about how someone like you survives. I phoned your home in England but was told you're staying with your sister in law here in the US."
Talk about surprised, but I couldn't see any harm so I agreed. Had I the gift of foresight I would have avoided the huge troubles that interview was to bring down on all our heads. Sylvia told me that she would come to me rather than doing the interview over a phone or Skype. In the end we agreed to meet in a month's time at a café in the small town of Wheelton which was the nearest town to the community. That was the first date that suited her but I didn't tell her that I would have been gone by then but for Tom. Then I went back to my day.
Tom invited me out again; so later in the day, after feeding the children and putting them all to bed, I left Sally and Sam and went out with Tom. To my surprise we went to his house where he had made a wonderful chicken and dumpling meal with a rich chocolate cake for dessert.
"A man on his own has to learn how to cook in self-defence otherwise he is down to take-outs and charity."
After we cleared up we sat on a sofa with coffee. It was nice being so close to a man again and I realised how being spanked by Tom had me feel strangely much closer to him. The coffee finished we began cuddling closer and I began to feel very randy indeed. I knew if he wanted me I'd agree like a shot but I wasn't expecting him to go that far. After all he was the minister of a church. I was surprised when he suggested we use the bedroom.
"But you're the pastor of the church. Is that OK?"
"The churches have made sex sinful. It's not sex that's sinful it is sex that uses or hurts someone. I'm not going to hurt or use you, Anne. We'll be married before too long. You may not be sure of that yet but I know we will. I love you... yes OK that's quick but it's a fact. I need you, you need me, and Ruth and David need a dad. We are made for each other. Now I'd like to make love to you. There’s no pressure but I can sense you want that too."
I just put my arms around him and kissed him passionately. He led me upstairs to the bedroom where we kissed some more before Tom began to slowly undress me. I felt suddenly shy. I'd never been with any other man than Gary and the thought of being naked in front of Tom was a hurdle in my mind. When he removed my bra I had this strange, virgin-like urge to cover my breasts. To my astonishment once he had me naked he lifted me up in his arms and laid me down on the bed. He wasn't a big man but I realised there was hidden strength there that was somehow sexier for being so unexpected. Tom had his clothes off quickly and was already erect by the time he did so. He was lean and muscular in a quiet way: not bulk, but definitely strength, and I was so eager for him.
Unmarried and frolicking in bed was somehow deliciously naughty although quite what we were doing wrong I don't know. The first time we made love it was hard and fast. I wanted him and he wanted me and there was precious little foreplay. I found myself on my back with my legs pushed right up virtually alongside my head while Tom powered into me making the whole bed shake. My screams of pleasure must surely have been heard by neighbouring houses and later I hoped their televisions had been turned up loud.
As we lay together afterwards and as I felt Tom's seed trickle out it crossed my mind that I was no longer on the pill. In the morning I'd have to get one of the post-coital pills; morning-after pills as they are commonly called. I'd have to ask Sally what the law here was about that. We made love again, of course, and this time it was a slow, sensual affair which had me orgasm several times. I got back late to find, to my relief, that Sally and Sam had gone to bed. Facing them after what I had been doing would have been embarrassing.
The next morning, my face red, I explained to Sally I needed a morning-after pill. She laughed. Really she laughed.
"Yes, being spanked does have that effect doesn't it? I always feel terribly randy about an hour or so after getting a spanking. Give the heat time to settle and it becomes a huge turn on. The submission may be part of it although I would not describe myself as submissive."
She sent me to the community's medical centre which also served a much wider area. I saw Dr Mary James. She was the wife of Dr Carl James and as I sat looking at her it dawned on me that she too would be spanked from time to time. All the couples here were in a DD relationship so my smart doctor had her bottom bared and spanked hard at least occasionally! It was a strange thought. She lectured me about unprotected sex without asking who the man was. As the pharmacy was in Wheelton she gave me a post-coital pill, a small pack of condoms and a prescription for the contraceptive pill. It was pretty well the same experience I'd had at eighteen when I made love to Gary for the first time. The same medical lecture and just about the same result.
---oOo---
I think it took one day for the community to realise that Tom and I were an item. In general, it was a well-disposed knowledge. They liked Tom and, by extension from Sally, I was liked too although not well known. That I would join Sally in settling here was welcomed, for the community always wanted new blood and, fantasy aside, not many couples have a domestic discipline relationship. Tom was often busy as counselling and visiting the sick was a big part of his job. However, he fell into a pattern of joining Sally and me in picking up the children and often stayed for a meal. Sam and Sally loved having a house full and I could see it wouldn't be long before another child joined Lily and Rose.
I was tucking Ruth in at bedtime one evening when she asked, "Is Mr Tom going to be my new daddy?"
I looked at her in astonishment, because I had said nothing, and I stalled. "Why did you ask me that?"
Well I got one of those long complicated explanations that children specialise in. You know the sort that ramble all around the houses and are hard to follow, but it boiled down to something very simple. Lily had told Ruth that she had asked God for a new and pretty mummy and he had obliged her with Sally. Yes, OK, we know that wasn't it but that is what Lily believed. Lily had then advised Ruth to ask God for a new and kind daddy and she had. She now saw ‘Mr Tom’ picking her up so was he her new daddy?
I gave her a cautious answer. "Well darling, he can't be your new daddy until we are married. We are thinking about getting married so that's why you and me and David are staying here longer. Would you like Tom to be your new daddy?"
"Yes, he's kind and he's funny and he plays with us when we ask him."
That is a child's view of course but Tom was good with children. He didn't wind them up and over-excite them, and he didn't spoil them, but they warmed to him and sought him out whenever they could. So, I made a decision and told my parents I would be staying for at least six months and that I had met the minister of the church and that we were going out. They were not best pleased I can tell you. It went down like the proverbial lead balloon but they raised no strong objections, just demanded I keep in touch. I agreed and pacified them by saying I would make no decisions without consulting them.
---oOo---
I had agreed to meet that Sylvia McDonnell person from Woman, Family and Home magazine. We had agreed a date a month away but it came up with dizzying s
peed. I had to drive to Wheelton to meet her in a café and to do so I had to borrow Sam's vehicle. When I went I did so with another sore bottom. I was so sore that when I got in and sat on the driver's seat I gasped and lifted myself up again. I eased myself back down but the whole journey I could feel the soreness every time I hit a bump in the road.
Again it was the bad language that got me my spanking. Sally told me it took several 'corrections' to cure her problem so there was no reason for me to be any different. To be fair you just did not hear any profanity in the community; not from men or women.
Sally had gone off delivering her meals that day and Sam was working at home. I was helping Sally out by tackling all the washing. As you can imagine, three adults, three children and a baby generate a lot of dirty clothes so I was busy in the utility room. Tom had arrived to see me and Sam had shut himself away in the study to work. Such an innocent scenario and one unlikely to lead to anything... or so you might think.
The problem was Sally's American washing machine. It was a top loader for a start and I wasn't at all familiar with the controls and... OK I got myself ridiculously het up. There I confess it. I sorted it, of course I did, but not without a string of expletives I won't trouble to report. Tom heard it all. He was very calm and controlled but very, very disapproving.
"Anne, come and face me."
I felt this horrible sensation in my stomach as if some huge weight had dropped into it. My legs became very tired all of a sudden and I could feel my heart start to race. I was in trouble and I knew it.
"This is an issue that has cropped up several times already; that's right isn't it Anne?"
"Yes Tom. I'm sorry."
"I've corrected you once already haven't I?"
"Yes Tom. It won't happen again I just got..."
"I know what set it off but it is something you must learn to control. You know what must happen now don't you?"
I was so tempted to say no but I just couldn't do it. "Yes Tom. You're going to spank me."
Well I suppose a utility room is not a convenient place for a spanking so Tom took me gently but firmly by the elbow and led me into the living room.
"Now then Anne I want you to remove those trousers and your panties and go and stand in the corner. This time you can put your hands on your head."
I went so hot you'd have thought my face was a fire. "But-"
"No buts Anne."
"Sam! Sam, might walk in. I can't... I can't do it."
"I'm just about to go and see Sam and I'll ask him to give us privacy."
Slightly reassured, I kicked off my shoes, undid my trousers and slid them down. My hands were shaking and I was scared I might be sick my stomach churned so much. Tom had walked off in the direction of Sam's study but I checked all around as if suddenly the room might be full of people staring at me. I was alone so I quickly pulled my knickers down, went to the corner Tom had indicated, and stood there. I remembered to put my hands on my head and then I waited. I waited a long time.
If you've never had to do it then you'll not understand what an incredibly submissive thing it is to do. I wanted to do it for him, and I knew that my language had been bad, but it was so hard. Just standing with nothing on below the waist was hard. It was embarrassing. I felt exposed as if I was naked in a shopping mall. I was scared that maybe someone would call at the house, or that Sam would come out to stare at me, or even that Sally would come home early. My bottom began to tingle in a most unpleasant way. I knew this was going to hurt. Doing this required obedience such as I had not ever had to do before. After all I was a grown woman; thirty years old and mother to two children and already a widow. I mean, women like me don't pull their trousers and knickers off to stand in corners in other people's homes to await having their bottoms spanked.
I heard Tom come back into the room and stood up straight and went very still. "Well done Anne," I heard him say, "You're doing exactly what I asked you to do."
I knew why he said it. The community had a manual guiding couples on how the domestic discipline was to work. It was exceptionally clear about how the men must be positive and kind and not overbearing with their women. Authoritarian bullying was a big huge 'no-no' and the community leaders worked hard at ensuring it didn't happen. Praising a woman when she had done what was asked was considered important. Tom would have done it anyway but it was in the manual.
"Leave the corner and come and stand in front of me."
As I stood in front of Tom I simply couldn't look him in the face. I felt how I did when I was eight or nine and Dad had found out about some mischief I'd got into. I felt his hand under my chin and he lifted my head gently and spoke softly.
"I am going to correct you Anne. Do you agree it is fair for me to do so?"
"Yes Tom... but please, not too hard."
He didn't say anything but looked reproving and I put my head down again. It was then I saw what he held in his right hand. My voice came out a squeak of fear, "Are you using a hairbrush?"
"Similar. Sam didn't want to come this way and embarrass you so he gave me this clothes brush to use. It's a bit narrower than a hairbrush but pretty much the same size. It'll do the job OK."
My squeak came out all broken up because my throat constricted. "Please, please don't. Can't you just use your hand?"
"No. Sam has had to correct Sally several times about this issue and it is important here in the community. There are too many children and teens for casual profanity. You've had adequate warnings and one correction."
With that Tom sat down and I knew my spanking was about to begin. I know I had been spanked by him before but it was really awkward and embarrassing going over his knee. Once there I felt really awkward. My tummy felt squashed, my bottom felt very cold, exposed and terribly vulnerable... and I had no idea what to do with my hands. I placed my hands, palms down, on the floor and no sooner had I done so than Tom started spanking.
I thought he'd let me off for he was just using his hand. I was so relieved. His first smack came down on my right bottom cheek and was a terrible shock. I know he'd spanked me before, but you quickly forget pain. It stung terribly and I felt my whole body jerk with the shock. I squeaked loudly but Tom carried on spanking. This time he spanked like my dad, his hand landing at a furious rate, the sting escalating alarmingly. I could hear myself squealing with each smack and I was wriggling terribly under the spanking onslaught.
"This is a three-minute spanking, Anne."
Three minutes doesn't sound much until it begins and then it is an eternity. I really struggled to stay quiet. I tried; I began to make peculiar little sounds as I compressed my lips to suppress the silly squeals and squeaks that escaped me. I was only partially successful and what I did do was move; I simply couldn't stop myself. I knew I was wriggling as my bottom, all of its own accord, tried to avoid Tom's burning hand. My legs stretched and moved; my feet began to stretch and curl; I could even feel my legs begin to see saw up and down, which was all stupid because the rapidly escalating sting and burning heat was all in my bottom. It didn't take long for my hands to come off the floor and begin to clench and unclench. Finally, I grabbed Tom's leg and hung on. I cannot describe how hot and sore my bottom was or the pent up feelings inside myself. I tried to suppress my noise but it was like shaking a champagne bottle and then pushing at the cork. Finally, I exploded with cries and wails and incoherent pleas of "please."
When the spanking ended I let go of Tom’s leg, and flopped over his lap, breathing hard. I didn't say anything ... I was just so relieved that it was over only, of course, it wasn't. My relief ended abruptly when I felt the back of the 'hairbrush' rest on my bottom. It felt incredibly cool against the heat of my skin.
"I decided to spank your bottom hard this time Anne. I'm going to use the back of this clothes brush and give you eighteen smacks with it. It will hurt but I believe this will be a lesson you will really remember and it will help you get a grip on that bad language," said Tom.
If I had thought th
e first smack of Tom's hand was hard, it was as nothing to the first smack of that 'hairbrush'... simply nothing at all. I really jolted as it landed with a terrible snap that Sam must have heard in his study. I screeched out in sheer shock as the burning sting of it exacerbated my already stinging bottom, the screech filling the room. After that it was just downhill as I wriggled, jerked and cried out at every horrid crack of the clothes brush.
Tom counted every smack as he administered them.
Crack! "One."
Crack! "Two."
Crack! "Three."
Crack! "Four."
By five I wanted to scream out, "Stop, for pity's sake stop!" But I didn't. I did shout out, "Oh Tom..." and "It hurts!"
The cries of "Tom..." became a sort of relief as my legs kicked up and down and my yelps and gasps became louder. I kept shouting it out, not with any real thought it meant anything, but just for relief.
Crack! "Thirteen."
Crack! "Fourteen."
By fifteen I was holding on so fiercely to Tom's leg my hands were beginning to cramp and I must have been hurting him. My legs were see sawing up and down desperately but the spanking carried on remorselessly.
Crack! "Fifteen."
Crack! "Sixteen."
How bad can just four smacks with a hairbrush be? I tell you, when you have already had a hard three-minute hand spanking and fourteen hard smacks with a wooden hairbrush, the last four smacks are just terrible!
I was nigh on screaming with the last four. Then Tom said it was over. I slid down his lap and knelt on the floor with my head on his lap and cried while he rubbed my back and soothed me. He told me he was proud of the way I'd taken it and he was sorry he'd had to spank me so hard, but better one big spanking than lots of smaller ones.
---oOo---
The hard spanking Tom gave me was in the morning. You may think I was resentful or something after it, but I wasn't. I was exhausted and cuddled him for quite some time but I felt only respect for him. He hated bad language, as did the whole community. To be 'corrected' for using it would be normal and unremarkable, but Tom and I had only just started our courting. He could have been tempted to be lenient with me: a light spanking perhaps or some corner time. That he went ahead and spanked me properly earned my respect. I could tell he would be a good, strong and loving husband but I knew I'd have to curb my use of bad language just as Sally had.