The Last Spanking Story

by Susan Thomas

  "I can't do this," he shouted to the trees, unconsciously echoing how he had felt about writing another spanking story. "I can't bloody well do this. Either things have to change or I have to get out."

  ---oOo---

  Two days later and Miles still felt sick at the thought of what had happened at the village court. He ploughed on with his job but planned, if the weather was good enough, to explore ways out at the weekend. It had been suggested to him that his hair could do with a trim and he realised styles were considerably shorter and neater than... than where exactly? Where was home and where was this place? Was it a time issue or what exactly? The villagers had given up bothering about it. However, he realised that he must fit in and had quickly realised that he was by no means immune from a session over that bench, so he took himself off to the barber's.

  There was strict segregation between men and women, unlike in the unisex salon where he normally went. Women went to Mrs Butterworth's front parlour and men went to Old Bert's whose great-grandfather had cut hair for troops in The Great War (as the villagers still called World War 1) and had been the barber when the storm came. He had taught his son and so on until Old Bert had inherited his position. He had a lean-to shop against his cottage and a painted pole stuck outside with the traditional red and white stripes. It was clean, functional and empty when Miles arrived. Bert greeted him warmly and to Miles' surprise did manage to avoid a short back and sides but merely gave him a decent trim to his existing style.

  As Miles thanked him and was about to leave, the barber asked, "Little something for the weekend sir?"

  "Pardon?"

  The barber looked at him for a while and opened a drawer showing Miles several boxes of condoms as well as loose ones and packets with three inside.

  "Oh I see..."

  Miles thought quickly about what this meant. Of course no contraceptive pill but it meant that there must be some quietly hidden sexual liaison.

  "So, Bert, tell me just between us, given the severe punishment doled out for adultery, just how does a gentleman get to use one of these?"

  Bert dropped his voice to a whisper even though they were the only ones present. "Well sir, you will find there are a couple of nice widow ladies who will oblige a gentleman they takes to. Also quite a few of the young ladies (be careful about their fathers but you'll soon sort out which ones to avoid) like a bit of fun but they mustn't get a baby or there'll be hell to pay all round for both of you."

  "Any comment to make about my two young assistants?"

  "Well, avoid Marigold unless you plans on marrying her and be warned her father has a very short fuse and a hard fist, but Annie now... well she might well be a prospect for a gentleman such as yourself, but she too is looking for a husband so..."

  "Thank you Bert," said Miles and shook hands with him, "and if there is anything I can do for you just ask."

  Miles left with an optimistic box of condoms and a great deal more insight into village life.

  Saturday morning dawned clear and bright with a beautiful sun to warm everything. Miles put on his walking gear and set out for the place where he had first met Constable Ormerod. He stopped there and spied out the land ahead, working out the route he had come in then he set out to retrace it. The sun grew warmer and there was no mist to confuse anything so he was confident that he could do it. In fact as long as he kept going up he must get out of the valley. After an hour's stiff walking he reached a high point and, crossing the ridge, found to his astonishment that the path led straight back into the valley. That was geographically impossible but it was fact. He tried walking along the ridge but wherever he tried to go, it led like Rome back down into the valley and the village. By the end of the day Miles was tired, hungry and deeply frustrated and he gave up, but only until the morning.

  As he walked back to his cottage a youth came running towards him, his eye was already closing and badly bruised and his lip was split. The youth ran past him and as Miles rounded the corner he saw a man holding a girl of around seventeen firmly by the arm. The man was angry and it was plain what was going to happen soon, as he was already undoing his belt with his free hand.

  "I am going to give the leathering of your life, our Emily. You'll not be sitting down for a week, I can tell you and, another thing, you will not be going out of the house except with your mother from now on, you mark my words."

  Miles guessed the young couple had been having a 'bit of fun' and dad was having none of that, thank you. It was an excellent reinforcement to the warning from Old Bert. He made up his mind to be very correct with Marigold but see how Annie might respond. Miles was used to having pleasant relationships with a number of attractive women in his circle - a night out at the opera, ballet or theatre followed by a decent meal and a long pleasant session in bed. That clearly wasn't going to happen here.

  When he got back in he began to prepare a meal but there was a sound from upstairs - somebody was creeping about. Miles was astonished as he had nothing much to steal anyway, and given the levels of punishment, theft was fairly rare. He stomped up the stairs angrily and marched into his bedroom expecting that was where the culprit would be. A sound behind him made him whip round and he was just in time to see a young girl clattering down the stairs. She must have been in one of the other two tiny rooms.

  "Hey, stop," he shouted uselessly but the girl was down the stairs and out of the door without pausing.

  "What the hell..."

  Miles went into each of the small bedrooms which were empty of anything much. One of them was clearly decorated for a young girl. The walls had been painted in a light pink pastel wash and about a foot down from the top a border had been pasted with pictures of Mickey Mouse with Donald Duck and Minnie Mouse. The art work depicted them all running along laughing and chasing one another. Clearly a child's room but who was that the child and if so was it the one that had been running away? Then Miles smelled something burning and hurried down to his kitchen.

  He couldn't go walking the next morning as it was Sunday and church was pretty well compulsory. One either went to St Mary's, long established and parts of it Medieval, or the Methodist Chapel. Church or chapel, and it could divide families. Miles went to St Mary's and discovered that the Anglican vicar stereotype did not apply to the Reverend Bentley. He was a fiery, passionate speaker and it was hard not to pay attention. He was clearly a real believer.

  In the afternoon, Miles went out again, looking for an escape from the valley, but he became as frustrated as the day before and in the evening went down to one of the three pubs the village boasted. There was the Swan and Feathers, The Old Bell and The New Inn (which wasn't new at all but founded in 1743). The Old Bell was considered more 'genteel' than the other two so he went in there and enjoyed a few pints of Village Special, a game of darts and a good chat. The barmaid, Millie, was a widow and Miles soon realised she was one of those Old Bert had said might "oblige a gentleman" she fancied, and it soon became abundantly clear she fancied him. At closing time (strictly enforced by constable Ormerod and the beadles at ten in the evening) she whispered the location of her cottage and asked if he would like to come by the back door - they could enjoy a chat and a quick drink.

  Miles nipped back to his cottage, picked up several condoms and went round to Millie's back door. She was warmly welcoming, clad only in a nightdress. They had a 'nip' of whisky and soon the springs on Millie's bed were twanging lustily as Miles made her squeal with delight. Later they made the springs twang a lot more and the condoms were used up. It was dawn before Miles crept wearily away before anyone saw him.

  On Monday, Miles had to review the work carried out the previous week by Marigold. Annie was out around the farms on her bike collecting orders but Marigold had been meant to write up and keep track of all the previous week's orders. Something that Miles could not understand was how all their suppliers seemed also to be stuck in 1937. Never had there been a hint of World War 2 or rationing, no new products invented after 1937 ever seemed pos
sible to obtain. That however had nothing to do with Marigold's work. She was like a kid that hadn't done its homework, full of excuses because basically the job was only half done.

  Miles was annoyed to find himself sounding like his old headmaster when he said, "This really isn't good enough, is it Marigold?"

  "No, Miles, I'm very sorry." She even hung her head like a naughty schoolgirl.

  Miles had had the forethought, on being told he had spanking rights, to purchase one of the spanking spoons from the craft club. It had a much larger head than any spoon would normally have and was made of oak from a tree that had fallen in a gale. It had on the scooped-out side a picture of a young woman and along the shaft in beautiful tiny writing, 'Never too old'.

  "I am going to have to spank you, aren't I Marigold, because I did warn you to improve your work?"

  "Yes, Miles."

  Miles had hung the spoon on the wall of the office and now he told her to fetch it down. Marigold did so, if slightly reluctantly, and handed it to Miles. He looked at her somewhat tight skirt (though modestly long) and told her to remove the skirt. Underneath, she had some sort of slip which he hadn't expected.

  "Will that come off?"

  She showed that it would, as it was only held at the waist, by simply taking it off. Underneath was a beautiful pair of French knickers in the most delicate light pink with a darker pink border and a tiny bow in the middle of the waistband. They were made of silk which astonished him no little and she had on a matching suspender belt with stockings. Where had she got those from and had she put them on deliberately because she guessed he might spank her? Village life was turning out to be quite complicated, he decided.

  Miles made her come and stand beside him. He pulled the delightful French knickers down but did it reverentially as both the knickers and Marigold's body were beautiful. He made her stand in that highly embarrassing position while he gave her a sound telling off, explaining how their work had to be up to date and accurate. He told her he was letting her off with a hand spanking and a mere taste of the spoon this time but if it happened again it would be all spoon and any time after that the Village Court.

  Miles had never spanked anyone as an actual punishment before and had no idea if this was the right sort of tone to take but Marigold was appropriately submissive, and apologised in the right places with her head hung down as if ashamed. He noticed, though, that she wasn't attempting to hide the treasure hidden in her knickers and that she had trimmed neatly the golden hair around it.

  He eased her across his knee and it was clear she was used to being spanked for there was no resistance, just submission. Miles loved the feel of his hand smacking down on a bare female bottom and Marigold's bottom was delightful. Firm, smooth and shapely, it bounced delightfully under his hand and she rewarded each smack with tiny gasps, squeals and movements of her feet.

  He had never before actually spanked a woman for punishment purposes. It had all been some sort of role play, game or just fun so he wasn't sure just how far to go, but he went boldly into the unknown. His hand smacked down hard everywhere, deliberately mixing the landing place to paint her beautiful bottom red all over. He watched it turn first pink, then red and then very red, while her tiny gasps became more urgent, her squeals shriller and movements of her feet became little kicks and stretches. Then he changed tactics.

  He concentrated on the centres of each cheek and spanked very fast indeed. Her head shot up, her squeals became loud and frantic and her legs kicked up and down. He felt her grasp his ankle in desperation and she gasped out, "Miles, oh... Miles... please." Now her bottom looked very hot and angry and he stopped to reach for the spanking spoon.

  "Now then Marigold, I am only going to give you six warning smacks with the spoon. They are a warning to make sure your work is up to scratch - do you understand me?"

  "Yes, Miles."

  He didn't smack very hard for he didn't need to. A spoon carries quite a sting and on a well-spanked bottom even a mere tap would be felt. He first gave her three smacks, one on one cheek, then the other and back to the first.

  "Getting the message, Marigold?"

  "Ouch, yes Miles - honestly."

  SMACK. "Sure?"

  "Ow, yes Miles I promise."

  SMACK. "Positive?"

  Yelp. "Yes, I promise, I'm really sorry."

  SMACK. "Very well, now I think you can stand in the corner with those delightful French knickers down for five minutes to think about why you were spanked. It was a very lenient spanking given the importance of our work."

  She was delightfully submissive and did as he told her, putting her hands on her head without any sighing or anything. Miles admired her beautiful red bottom. He was proud of his work and felt he had really enhanced the beauty of an attractive young woman. It was a shame that he had to be careful about taking her to bed, but he could not commit to marriage with her. Marriage would mean children in this place and children would mean resigning himself to staying. He was not doing that. He wished he had his phone so he could take her picture to go back with, but there it sat on his desk back home. Suddenly, Miles was hit with a wave of homesickness which took a huge effort to control.

  He walked with Marigold back to her house to meet her father and explain (as was the local custom) why and how he had spanked her. Her father shook his hand and promised Miles his daughter would go to bed that night with a small reminder spanking to reinforce the message.

  Miles came the back way to his cottage and not down the main lane. He didn't do that deliberately, it just happened to be his best route. As he approached, he saw a movement in the window of one of the small bedrooms. He stepped back behind a tree and looked again. There was somebody up there without doubt, so he went around the front and, removing his shoes, silently opened the door and tiptoed across the floor, hiding just down at the bottom of the stairs.

  He found it hard to keep still and silent but he managed and after a fair while he heard the light steps of someone coming down the stairs. As the person came into view, Miles could see a young girl aged about eleven or twelve. He jumped out and held her firmly, saying at the same time, "Gottcha! Now just what are you up to, young lady?"

  ---oOo---

  The girl was definitely young, perhaps no more than ten, and pretty, though looking rather unhappy and white-faced at the moment.

  "Let me go, I wasn't doing anything wrong."

  "I didn't say you were." Miles was patient and mild. "I asked what you were up to. Why are you in my cottage?"

  "Let me go, you're hurting me."

  Miles was surprised, he thought he was holding her quite gently, but he had no wish to hurt a child so he let go. Quick as a flash the girl was away and out of the back door and off down the back path. For a second he was annoyed and then he laughed. "What a little minx," he said to himself, "but I'll get you again missy, you see if I don't."

  He was down at The Old Bell again that evening and once again Millie invited him round after closing time for a 'quick drink and a chat'. Armed with several of his condoms, Miles was round quickly and found her again only in her night dress which he wasted no time in removing. She was quite a voluptuous woman and very responsive sexually. They enjoyed themselves in a long slow progression up to her bed, and when Miles slid inside her he was rewarded with a long squeal of delight and pleasure from Millie.

  Miles was an athletic and powerful man and when he had brought Millie to orgasm twice, he began his own pleasure. He pushed her legs high up over her body until they almost touched the bed head. He spread his legs for balance and went up on the tip of his toes to give himself the maximum power to thrust into her, and then used the bed's natural bounce to thrust again and again into her with great vigour.

  Millie gasped with surprise and held on hard to Miles' hips as he rode her for all he was worth. She began with little cries but soon, as the power of the thrusts mounted, she began to scream in a way that was hard to tell if it was pain or pleasure. As Miles felt his climax c
oming, her screams became ear-splitting until she screamed out at the top of her voice, "Oh bloody hell."

  Miles stopped thrusting as his body pumped its semen into the safety of the condom. He felt utterly drained but Millie clung to him, gasping and making mewling sounds, so he stayed in and on her, nuzzling her with his nose and wondering if she was OK. Finally, she let them separate before saying weakly, "Bleeding hell Miles, I have never met a feller like you before. I thought my Bill was a lusty man, God rest his soul, but you are something else."

  Miles grinned with the self-satisfied smirk of a man who has performed well and started nuzzling her generous breasts. "Well, Millie, you make it really easy to be lusty."

  "Yeah, I does like a bit of the other I must admit but don't you go falling in love with me. I don't want to get married again, I rather like things as they stand now."

  "Millie, I want to get out of this place, so as delightful as you are, I am no long term prospect I am afraid."

  She snorted. "Miles, darling, you are never getting out. I know they say some must have done because they never came back but think about it... the weather was crap at the time so the chances are that they died somewhere up there, and if anyone had ever got out you would have heard about it before you wandered in. Nah, nobody gets out, you'll die in the place like the rest of us."

  They stopped talking to start making love again and Millie swiftly brought Miles up to another erection, before gently putting another condom on him and then mounting him. He lay back with a sigh of contentment as she began to rock and ride him. She leaned right over him, grinding away with deep satisfaction; he grasped her bottom and then changed tactics and began to smack it. His smacks were mild and her bottom bounced and wobbled as he smacked, but she seemed to take no notice so he smacked harder and harder. The harder he smacked the harder she ground on him, until suddenly he felt her tighten on his erection and she seemed to spasm with one of her mighty orgasms. When she relaxed, he lifted her right up and rolled over on top of her without coming out, then he rode her until he came again.