The Spanking of WPC Anne Martin

by Susan Thomas

  "I am a grade A fool and you, Sam, are a genius. When we have free time tomorrow is there any way you could occupy Chaplain Whiston while I search the chapel?"

  "Yup. I can ask him about confirmation classes. My mother wants me to get confirmed. I don't want to. In fact, I thought of becoming a Jehovah's Witness to annoy her, but they don't celebrate Christmas and I can't give up all that yummy food and Christmas presents... terrible."

  Anne laughed. Sam had a wild sense of humour at times. They arranged that during their free time, Sam would see Chaplain Whiston, and keep him talking about confirmation classes, while Anne searched the chapel and the crypt below. All went according to plan. Anne watched Sam go into the small house the Chaplain had and saw them go into his study. She hurried into the chapel and began searching, aware that she couldn't be long. It was a beautiful chapel that had been extended at some point in the past, but it didn't take her long to realise that there was no way anything would be hidden here... far too many people used it. She found the door down into the crypt. It was the oldest part of the chapel and still had the old stone and lead coffins dating from medieval times. Anne was a little scared, even with the light on, of being down in the creepy crypt on her own, but she kept her mind on the job and not her fears. It took her just five minutes to find a wooden box. Inside were six metal cans or tins with removable lids. She opened one to find a package wrapped in waxed paper. Carefully unwrapping the paper, she found a white powder and knew that she had found the cocaine.

  As Anne left the chapel, Sam came out of the Chaplain's house. Anne just nodded and took Sam with her to Dr Hardcourt's office. The poor headmaster sat in stunned silence as Anne phoned Inspector Craig and told him what she had found. In a very short time there were police officers in abundance. The Rev. Whiston gave them no trouble at all; he told those arresting him he wanted the money to help the poor and needy and had kept none for himself. Anne's role in all this would be kept quiet (much to her relief since she had no desire for the men to find out about all her punishments) and Dr Hardcourt would say he had decided to expel her.

  Anne told Superintendent Craig about Sam's part in it all. He shook her hand and invited her to consider a career in the force.

  "We need bright young women like you. Here is my card. When you've finished your A-Levels, get in contact if you fancy the idea and I'll help you."

  Anne was whisked off by Superintendent Craig who promised to treat her to a good meal. She was surprised by how sad she was to leave St. Agnes, but a further surprise was to come.

  "Anne... I may call you Anne, I hope?"

  "Yes of course."

  "Anne, I owe you an apology. I hid the school's use of corporal punishment from you. I know you must have had a good few whackings, because that's the sort of school it is; but you've never complained."

  "Oh I have... in my head. I've even tortured you with a red hot poker."

  He laughed and poured her some more wine. "And I'm not a fool. When you were caught outside I know you must have had a severe caning. I saw Dr Hardcourt go white when I revealed who you really were. That was very brave of you."

  "Please sir, do not tell anyone about any of it."

  "Tom. When we're not at work please just call me Tom. As to telling anyone about the punishments, I have no intention of doing so. Now to move on to something else… my golf club have an annual ball for the members. It's a grand affair with a lovely meal as part of it all… lasts for hours. I'd love to take you."

  "Is that by way of an apology, or a date?"

  "Oh, I have a little promotion to award by way of an apology and thanks. The ball would be a date. Will you come?"

  Anne looked across at Superintendent Craig... Tom! She was going to struggle with that. She noticed, for the first time, that actually he was rather handsome and, for such a senior rank, rather young. She blushed; from schoolgirl back to woman in less than a day. Oh well, she joined the police for variety, and Superintendent Tom Craig was very attractive. She smiled.

  "I'd love to Tom," she said.

  ---oOo---

  Anne stood outside the boss's door listening to Lucinda-May getting her spanking. The thin walls and door were little more than hardboard partitions in that part of the club the members never saw. As a result, Anne could hear every smack of Mr Tasker's hand on Lucinda's bottom, and it sounded as if he was giving her a very hard spanking indeed. Lucinda-May had been quite quiet to begin with, but that had changed after a very short while to gasps, and now to a series of little cries. Anne squirmed resentfully as she was to be next. Once again her duties were ending with her getting a sore bottom and she felt like simply walking out of the club and making some excuse to Detective Superintendent Craig. To be fair to Tom, as she knew him in private, he had not known about Tasker's method of controlling the hostesses, but that didn't stop getting a spanking being both humiliating and painful. Lucinda-May was now crying out loudly and Anne shuddered. If she didn't leave now that would soon be her. She thought back over how this had all come about.

  ---oOo---

  The orchestra began to play the last waltz of the evening and Anne relaxed into Tom's capable arms as he led her into the dance. He looked magnificent in his formal wear: tall, strong, straight-backed and handsome. He was too, a most capable dancer, and Anne was grateful that her mother had insisted on all those classes at Miss Pringle's Academy of Dance. She knew she looked very good in the new, and very expensive, ball gown her mother had insisted on buying for her. She had caught the glances others had given them and interpreted them correctly as admiration.

  As he led her to the car she wondered if he would now try to seduce her. She'd never been one of those girls … the kind that are likely to get into trouble, and she knew very little about precautions. She was, in fact, still a virgin and always assumed her husband would be her first. In her tight knit and very old fashioned community, anything else made a girl subject to cruel gossip. But Tom was the perfect gentleman and took her home, pausing before seeing her in to give her a long and passionate kiss which she thoroughly enjoyed.

  Before he went he said, "I don't want to spoil pleasure with business, but tomorrow you'll be based at the station and Inspector Baker will have some news for you."

  Inspector Baker did indeed have news. "Martin, Superintendent Craig was very impressed with your performance in that cocaine case. You are hereby promoted to Detective Constable. Tomorrow you will report for duty to headquarters. Here are the details. You'll be joining a new special squad that Craig is setting up and it is a great honour both for you and this station. Well done. Now do you have a telephone at home?"

  "A telephone?! No sir. Nobody down our road has one. We all use the call box on the corner."

  "Well, you'll need one for this squad. It's a requirement."

  "But sir, that could take months. There is a waiting list as long as your arm."

  Baker looked smug. "You'll have one tomorrow, Martin. The GPO have agreed to make these a priority. It's just like the war years. I'll organise it now. The Constabulary will pay for everything except your personal calls. Bills will go to Accounts and they will calculate how much you owe."

  The next morning Anne reported for duty wearing fairly formal civilian clothes. She was a little nervous of the reaction of the men; some officers were hostile to the presence of women anywhere in the Constabulary except looking after small children. However, the squad seemed to have a different mind-set. Their job was to tackle the gangs that had begun to be a problem in the county. Prostitution, protection, drugs and guns were all beyond local stations to deal with, especially if, as the Chief Constable feared, corruption had crept in. Anne was treated well, and if she and a young male detective constable caught all the tea making, well that was normal for their rank.

  The first two weeks were spent in interesting research into names given to them by their immediate boss, Detective Inspector Allen. Then one morning it was suddenly action. The squad were going to war with the Bartlett gang
run by 'Mad' Frank Bartlett and his younger brother, Steve 'The Knife' Bartlett. Superintendent Craig outlined the gang structure with photographs of the various members were known. He rattled off tasks for the squad and told them the target was the complete destruction of the gang.

  "Martin, I'd like you to join me and Detective Inspector Allen in my office."

  In the privacy of the office Superintendent Craig looked somewhat embarrassed. "Martin, I have a difficult request. This has come up suddenly and concerns the Tamarisk Club. Allen and I believe it is where the Bartletts hold their senior gang meetings. We suspect they also invite others that they have corrupted … you know, councillors, businessmen and possibly even our own police officers. Now Allen has found out just today that they have a vacancy for a new hostess. You know the sort of thing they do, such as serving drinks and seeing members to their seats. We don't know anyone on the inside and we'd like you to go undercover as a hostess. It's a simple job really. Just make a note when they have a meeting, of who turns up. If you don't know them see if you can find out. Carefully mind. We'll give you a special camera if you get a chance to use it. I can't ask one of the men to do it for obvious reasons. What do you say?"

  Anne agreed promptly and the very next morning at eleven she walked into the Tamarisk Club wearing a fashionable dress in lime green. It was short in length, with short sleeves and showed her attractive figure to perfection. Mr Tasker, who ran the club, was a big burly man with a London accent.

  "Right girl, ever worked in a night club before?"

  "No, Mr Tasker. It's new to me but I'm a quick learner."

  "Right. Now get this, girl, I don't want no tarting yourself with the members, got me? If you want to go off with one of 'em, make arrangements outside the club hours. The fuzz would have our licence fast as anything."

  "I'm not that kind of girl."

  He snorted loudly implying all girls were like that. "Now I don't want no smacking members round the chops. If they wanna have a little feel, you let 'em and smile nicely while they do it. They don't mean nothing see, and you'll find they give generous tips if you play it right."

  Anne was disgusted. What he meant was that they would be groped and fingered and they had to just take it. However, she was mindful of her task and smiled sweetly. "I can handle that alright Mr Tasker. Don't you worry about me. Do I get the job?"

  "Hold on a mo. My rules is simple. Keep your nose clean. Be polite and respectful to the members and anyone I say so. You do what I say promptly. Don't eff around with drinks. Don't dip your hand in the till. Don't stick yer fucking nose in what don't concern you. Break my rules and you get a choice. Take a spanking from me or get out."

  "Spanking!"

  "Yeah! Don't pretend you don't know what that is. The girls know to go over my knee and I spank 'em until they think their bum's on fire. If they don't fancy that they put their coat on and clear off. Well, what you wanna do?"

  Anne, with reluctance, accepted the job. She decided to keep the spanking condition a secret. For one thing Tom might want to pull her out and for another she did not want the teasing she'd get from the men if they ever found out. She reasoned that if she behaved herself it wouldn't happen. Even at St Agnes a girl could only get a walloping if she broke the rules. That afternoon she was kitted out in Tamarisk's hostess uniform: a very short skirt, a blouse with a very revealing cleavage, a suspender belt with rather daring stockings and high heeled shoes. The skirt was not tight and she guessed was designed to allow hands to wander with ease. Why did the girls put up with it?

  She swiftly found out why. She knew that men in the local mill where she lived could expect to earn about £10 a week, maybe rising to £14 if they worked a lot of overtime. She could expect to earn £3 a day and up to £10 a day in tips. Anne was staggered, and not only that, there was always a chance some rich man would fancy her enough to marry her.

  She also found out that she could expect fairly regular spankings from Mr Tasker. He would make an excuse to spank her that very day and at least once a week thereafter. It was his simple way of keeping the girls firmly under control and all the girls thought he rather enjoyed it as well. She was faced with the same dilemma as she had experienced at St Agnes; did she continue and take the spankings or scupper the operation? She decided to take the spankings.

  Lucinda-May, which was not her real name, was her mentor. "I'm Ethel but who the hell works in a place like this and is called Ethel? Now look, get this straight, you'll get a lot of wandering hands. Play up to it. Giggle and tell them they're naughty. They love all that and they tip well. More bloody money than sense most of them. Oh, and don't think you ain't getting a spanking, because you will. We all do on our first day and you can reckon on about one or two a week. If you can't stand that, don't stay. Tasker's a creep but he runs this place well and if you want the money you put up with it all. It's better than working in the mill.

  The place was fairly quiet in the early evening but Lucinda-May kept Anne busy, instructing her about drinks and how to serve them. Then at nine Anne got a thrill, for in marched the Bartlett brothers and their lieutenants. Anne pretended not to know who they were and queried why they were able to march straight up some stairs to a door marked 'private'.

  "They own the place. Don't speak to them unless they speak to you. Try and keep out of their way. They're nasty, mad and bloody dangerous." That was all her mentor would say.

  Whatever the meeting was about, Mr Tasker was not included in it. He was patrolling the club talking to patrons and chivvying the girls. Lucinda-May whispered to Anne, "He's coming this way. He's going to find an excuse to spank you now."

  Her mentor was wrong. He found an excuse to spank them both. "You two, my office now. I've had complaints you're too slow. Our patrons want smart girls not bloody slowcoaches."

  Anne knew it wasn't true and was resentful but she could see Tom was right. She was in a perfect place to watch the comings and goings of the Bartlett gang. She and Lucinda-May walked off and through the 'staff only' door into the drab utilitarian place of flimsy partitions, offices and store rooms. Mr Tasker marched straight into his office and Lucinda-May went first. The door shut and Anne didn't have long to wait until she heard the spanking begin. She heard Lucinda-May's increasing distress and realised this was no quick humiliation. Tasker had not lied. He did indeed spank until the girls thought their bum was on fire. Then the spanking ended and Anne's heart began to race. She was next.

  Lucinda-May came out. She had been crying and her hair was awry.

  "Go sort yourself out girl and fix your make-up. I don't want the patrons seeing you like this." Then to Anne he barked, "Right girl in you go."

  Anne walked in resentfully. Her spirit urged her to walk out. Her sense of duty urged her to stay. The conflict between the two urges made her resentful. Mr Tasker plonked himself down in a large straight backed chair without arms.

  "Come along gal, get them knickers down. We ain't got all bloody day y'know."

  Anne's face burned with embarrassment. She lifted her short skirt and taking hold of the knickers slowly tugged them down a little.

  "Nah! Not like that. Get 'em right down girl."

  Her face afire Anne pulled her knickers down further. Once they were down Mr Tasker grabbed hold of her arm and, to her surprise, pulled her forward so she toppled over and onto his lap. She squealed with the surprise. She felt her skirt yanked up and abruptly the man's large, hard hand smacked down on her bottom with force. Anne squealed and tried to get off his lap but his powerful grip on her was too strong. The hand smacked down again and Anne gasped at how much it stung. She felt totally humiliated. She was a grown woman, and a police constable, and he was spanking her just as her daddy had before he had died. She'd only been eleven then and that was different entirely. This was grossly humiliating but the hand was indifferent to her humiliation: it continued to land with hard smacks on her bare bottom, wringing a loud series of ows and ouches from her. She could feel her legs begin to kick u
p and down in a ridiculous see-saw, just like the girls in some of the films she'd seen at the cinema.

  Anne soon stopped worrying about humiliation or what her legs were doing, because Mr Tasker was spanking her hard and fast. His hand smacked down repeatedly, sometimes all in one place, making her screech, sometimes smacking down all over her bottom which now felt as if it was on fire. How could a hand sting so very much? It wasn't fair just how strong men were that they could spank like this. Anne began to struggle hard as the spanking continued but Mr Tasker was far too strong for her and spanked on regardless until Anne was bawling and pleading for it to end. He stopped and laid his hand on her bottom... that felt horribly obscene to her.

  "Yeah, nice and hot now. That'll do for your first. You can get up."

  Anne struggled to her feet without any assistance from Mr Tasker. Her knickers were only hanging to one ankle now and she turned her back on him and pulled them up hastily ignoring the soreness as they went over her spanked bottom. She held her bottom with both hands as it was burning and stinging so furiously. It only helped a little.

  "Right girl, go sort yourself out. Don't want them members seeing you in a mess. Paste on a smile when you go back in."

  Anne went to the staff toilet and looked at herself in the mirror. It took a while to wash and dry her face and restore her make-up. She tidied her hair but before straightening her clothes managed to look at her bottom. It was red all over. Not just red but an angry hot colour with tiny little marks all over of a different colour. Her slipper spankings had provoked a similar reaction, except they had been confined within the marks of the slipper, whereas now her whole bottom was angry.

  "Unbelievable!" she muttered but squared her shoulders and marched back in. A few days later Anne got her second spanking, though it was not as long or as hard as the first one had been. By the end of the week she had been groped, fingered and spanked twice. She had learnt to smile while being groped or patted by a hand up her skirt. She had called the perpetrators 'naughty boys' and pouted in a funny way. She had even kissed one man on the cheek, to his delight, and told him he was incorrigible. By the end of her six-day week she had £18 in cash from Mr Tasker and £52 cash in tips. That was seventy pounds with apparently no hint of tax or National Insurance deductions.