Blushing

Spanker Hills By Jean Gorski

©2011 Blushing Books Publications and Jean Gorski

Copyright © 2011 by Blushing Books® and Jean Gorski All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Published by Blushing Books®, a subsidiary of ABCD Graphics and Design 977 Seminole Trail #233 Charlottesville, VA 22901 The trademark Blushing Books® is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office. Gorski, Jean Spanker Hills eBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-557-7 Cover Design: ABCD Graphics

Blushing Publications thanks you whole-heartedly for your purchase with us! There are plenty more stories such as the one you’ve purchased from Blushing Books! Visit our online store to view our mighty selection! http://www.blushingbooks.com This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

Chapter One When the City Council chairwoman asked the new community’s attorney why his clients had chosen to name it Spanker Hills, he had a ready reply. A dazzling grin spread over his tanned face, from his thin lips to the blue eyes that sparkled beneath his curly black hair. “’Dirty River’ is not really a very attractive term, even if that was the original name,” he told her, as the audience tittered politely. In a more serious tone, he added, “But Spanker Hills would honor the memory of Henrietta Spanker, who did so much for local charity. It would also move new residents into an older community that went bankrupt during the housing bust.” The chairwoman stared suspiciously down at him from behind her harlequin glasses. “I know all about the housing bust,” she said. “I also think I know as much about Castlemaine County’s history as anyone does, Mr. Brewer. But I never heard of a Henrietta Spanker.” “And that is exactly why we want to honor her now,” he triumphantly replied. “She was an active modern woman, long before her time…just as you are now, Ms. Semple. She deserves to be remembered.” “And you will make sure she will be,” the chairwoman retorted. “Very well, then, let’s leave the name aside. Now, about the homes themselves…” “The community is planned for 20 single-family colonial brick houses on one-acre lots,” he informed her, pointing at the map that hung above the council table. “We know that that’s the most popular style in Pennsylvania, and for good reason. They reflect our region’s proud historical heritage. “What’s more, the homes will have shuttered windows and soundproof walls, to preserve the quiet atmosphere. The community center will follow the same plan.” Sitting in the front row, Linda Lawrence had long since resigned herself to another long, dull hearing about a new planned community. She had sat through them often enough, heaven knew, as part of her job with the weekly Castlemaine County Chronicle. There was something about this particular session, though, that made her sit up and take notice. For one thing, she realized she was just about the only woman in the audience who was seated on a wooden chair. The others had brought cushions to place beneath them…just as though they had recently suffered at a real spanker’s hands. In addition, she was well aware that she had never heard of a local female philanthropist named “Henrietta Spanker,” although she had learned as much as anyone about the town’s history. If “Spanker Hills” really turned out to be some den of perverts, it could

lead to a big enough stories for a big-city daily newspaper. She needed that desperately to get her stalled career started again. Her own blue eyes gleamed at the thought. She was certainly well suited for a star reporter’s career. For one thing, she knew she looked the part, with her straight blond hair falling onto the red blazer that was a newswoman’s uniform. For another, she had a master’s degree in journalism from Lewis and Clark University in Chicago. With those qualifications, she should not have been reduced to covering local elections, new restaurants, wedding announcements and obituaries and, above all, local government meetings like this one. But she had been wasting away here in the boondocks for the last five years, and she had to admit it was largely her fault. She felt sure her professors had given her bad references, and when a few employers had taken a chance on hiring her anyway, she had lasted for less than three years with any of them. What’s worse, she was still unmarried for the very same reasons: Her quick temper combined with her high principles. Every time she recalled her fatal outbursts, she could hardly believe she had made them. Why in the world had she slammed her fist on the professor’s desk and demanded her grades right then? She knew that the students who stood around her felt the same way, since it was time to send off their job applications with graduation coming so close. But instead of backing her up they merely stared at her silently, with their eyes lowered before the professor’s cold glare. The only editors who had hired her, had been the ones who made the decision on the spot, without waiting for references. Always, she had sworn to herself that she would show her gratitude by her complete cooperation, and she had usually been able to do it for a year or less. Then that awful question of principle had raised its ugly head…like the problems caused by that office manager who insisted on approving her stories in advance. In her righteous anger, Linda had forgotten the first rule of journalism: reporters are a lot easier to replace than good office managers. When she had finally broken down and protested to her boss, he had responded that the other woman had already complained about her, too. Two weeks later, he had called Linda into his office to say that he was cutting some staff positions, including her own. But not, of course, the office manager’s. When Linda finally landed her current job, with a newspaper that needed someone quickly and could not wait for reference letters, she swore, once again, that she would remember one simple rule: The editor set the editorial policy, and it was her job to follow it.

But, as she told herself, no editor had ever ordered her to back off from a really hot story. This one would be as hot as…well, as hot as Richard Brewer, the attorney with the curly black hair, dazzling smile, broad shoulders and obviously powerful hands. She could not help imagining what it would feel like, to have those hands administering a really sound spanking, like the ones that would probably be taking place at Spanker Hills. Looking out over the crowd, she had the definite feeling that most of those women had long since gone way beyond the imagining stage. Some of those ladies were gazing up at their husbands with open adoration, and others stared straight at the speaker with eager, gleaming eyes, while a third group kept their heads submissively lowered. They were all eager to move into that perverted place, but she suspected they felt that way for different reasons. *** Grace Wilcox could hardly be blamed for gazing up at her husband, because he was so incredibly handsome. His crew-cut blond hair and square jaw made him look like everyone’s image of a police officer, which in fact he was. This cop was also a strictly honest one. He had proven that when he told Grace on their second date that he believed in domestic discipline. “You are the kind of girl I want to marry,” he said, as they sat together in his Land Rover, in front of her apartment. Seeing the smile spread over her round pink face, he quickly added, “There is something I must tell you first. I will be the boss in our home.” “I wouldn’t have it any other way, “she assured him, leaning her head of curly brown hair against his broad shoulder. “That is what our church teaches, and you may remember that I met you at a singles’ mixer there. It’s hard for a math teacher to meet eligible men, but I hit the jackpot this time.” She smiled up at him, but he did not smile back. “I haven’t told you what I meant yet, when I said I would be the boss. I meant I believe in domestic discipline, the way my parents did, and I want my marriage to be as happy as theirs. Our own church does not teach this, and I know it is has frightened many girls away. Now I’m just hoping you aren’t one of them.” “Domestic discipline?” she answered. “Do you mean I must obey you? I told you, I am perfectly ready for that.” “It means even more,” he told her, gripping the steering wheel and staring straight ahead. “It means that I will set up rules for you…and if you fail to follow them, you will wind up over my knee.” “You mean…you will spank me?” she asked. “With your bare hand?”

“On your equally bare bottom,” he answered, with a thin smile. “But that is only for the mildest misdeeds. For more serious infractions, you will get the hairbrush or the belt.” With a shudder, she replied, “Well then, I suppose I had better not commit any of those!” “I’m sure my mother believed the same thing, but she wound up earning her punishments anyway. Of course, they sent me out of the house on some errand when he was about to spank her, even though I didn’t know why. When I came home I knew she had been crying, but they were hugging each other, too.” “Then I guess it was worth it…for her, at least. But I don’t know if I could stand it…” “Then perhaps we had better end it right here.” “No!” she heard herself saying, to her own surprise. “I mean, no matter how bad the spanking would be…losing you would be even worse.” “You will marry me then, on my terms?” Snuggling more closely against him, she said, “Well, those seem to be the only terms there are.” *** Some of the wedding guests had been openly shocked when they heard the bride promising to “obey” as well as “love and honor.” But the groom’s proud parents smiled at each other and pressed one another’s hands. As they stood in the receiving line together, Grace’s mother cautiously asked her if that had not been a rather old-fashioned ceremony. “Well,” the new Mrs. Wilcox answered promptly, “My husband is an old-fashioned guy.” *** She was also an old-fashioned girl in another way, as she proved on their wedding night. He had promised to be very gentle when she told him she was still a virgin at age 25, and he kept his word. Seeing his organ grow long, thick and hard, her eyes had widened with fear. He responded with his faint smile again. “This will hurt for a moment,” he told her. “But I promise that you will enjoy it, too.” That seemed impossible…until he leaned down and gently ran his tongue over her opening, until it was warm and moist and she was squirming with desire. Then he pressed himself into her, as the pain and pleasure mingled together, so that it was almost impossible to tell them apart.

*** Two weeks later, she learned that pain and pleasure could be worlds apart. Driving home from an evening with her mother, she remembered that she had promised to call Steve on her cell phone after she left for home. The problem was, every street she passed seemed to have yellow curbs with signs reading “No parking…no standing…fire lane.” Her only choice was to look for the nearest shopping center and call from the parking lot, although that might be miles away. That wasn’t her fault, was it, she assured herself. He could not punish her for following the law, especially since he was a law enforcement officer himself. He could, and he would. That became all too clear to her, when he met her at the door with his arms folded across his broad chest and his face set in a scowl. “You promised to call me,” he said. “Do you know how worried I was when you failed to do it?” “And I tried! But I could not find a legal place to stop. It wasn’t my fault.” “You could have called before you left your mother’s condo. If you failed to do that…well then, I think a punishment is in order.” “With your belt?” she whimpered, tears coming to her eyes. “With my bare hand, since this is your first time.” “But you know I’ve got back problems!” she wailed. “I can’t bend over or I will really hurt myself.” “I’m not asking you to do that. Just turn yourself across my knee…before I change my mind.” She hurried to obey him as he sat down on the floral chintz sofa, since she realized he would only get angrier if she tried to delay. Squeezing her eyes tight shut, she felt his left arm clamp down like a steel bar across her shoulders, while his right hand pulled her panty hose down to her ankles and dragged her pleated plaid skirt up to her waist. For a moment, she felt the air conditioner cooling her bare bottom. Then her eyes sprang open, as she heard a crack that sounded like thunder, as her bottom was struck by a lightning flash of pain. That lightning bolt lit a fire that became a blazing inferno, as his merciless hand rose and fell, faster and harder each time.

Fearing that the neighbors were listening, she clasped both hands over her mouth. Soon the smacking sound was rising over her muffled cries. “OW! OW! OW!” she whimpered. “Please forgive me, I will never do it again, I promise! OW! OW! OW!” “And I will be sure you keep that promise,” he answered, as the punishment went on. Glancing behind her, she saw that her backside had gone from bright red to violent crimson. At the sight, she burst into helpless tears. The weeping continued, along with the spanking, until she realized that his hand was now still. Barely able to believe her good fortune, she looked back to see that he had removed his restraining arm from her shoulders. “Can I stand up now?” she sniffled. For answer, he helped her rise to her feet, where she stood gently stroking her bruised backside. “So now I hope you will remember to call me any time you are going to be late.” “Oh, I will, I WILL!” “And just to make sure you do, you can spend the next fifteen minutes sitting on one of those hard kitchen chairs…” “Oh, NO!” “…unless you want to make it thirty minutes instead.” Soon she was sobbing again, as she squirmed against the hard vinyl seat. She was sure of one thing, though…she would never again come home late without calling him. And despite everything she had suffered, part of her was very glad that he had worried so much about her that he felt it called for a punishment. *** Recalling that night as she sat on her cushion in the City Council hearing room, she remembered how many times he had spanked her since then. The truth was, she had lost count. Most recently he had used his belt, as promised, leaving her sitting on pillows for a week. She had known they had to come here, though, ever since the weekly newspaper had told her about the upcoming hearing on Spanker Hills. Based on the description of the planned community…with its soundproof houses, one-acre lots and very suggestive name…she would be able to cry and scream to her heart’s content while he spanked her own pink hills, without any curious neighbors to worry about. Even if they heard her, these new neighbors would not be at all surprised. ***

The future neighbor sitting beside her had no such concerns. Juliet Gardner was in no danger of crying and screaming loudly enough for anyone to hear her, since she thoroughly enjoyed her so-called punishments. As a good reporter, Linda Lawrence could see as much, from the gleam of excitement in the woman’s great black eyes when she heard the community’s name. Juliet had sent had sent a subtle signal to the world, by changing her name from “Barbara” to “Juliet.” She did it in honor of the heroine created by the Marquis de Sade, whose noble title had given sadism its name. She had met Peter in an on-line chat room that was officially dedicated to discussing the Marquis’ literary works. Of course that was not its real purpose, as they soon realized, when they noted that most of the posters were just like them. They were mostly interested in hooking up with each other, to fulfill their unconventional desires. Following the safety rules they had also read on line, Juliet and Peter had agreed to meet in a public place accompanied by their friends. The four had accordingly shared the kung pao chicken, pork lo mein, shrimp with lobster sauce and beef with broccoli, before they opened their fortune cookies. “Your luck is about to improve,” Juliet read. Gazing up at her new acquaintance, she said, “I would say it already has.” “Mine, too,” he told her, reaching for her hand, as their friends smiled with approval. As the couple walked out of the restaurant together, Peter asked, “Have you ever done this before?” “What, you mean go out on a blind date with someone I met on line?” she teased, batting her great dark eyes from under her long black hair. “I mean, have you ever gone out with an SM lifestyler?” After hesitating for a moment, she decided to tell him the truth. “No, I have just indulged in fantasies about a sado-masochistic romance. But I finally decided to take the plunge, because you seem like a nice guy. Except for being a sadist, of course.” “And you made sure your friends would see us together, in case anything happened to either one of us. That shows you are a pretty smart girl. But I must warn you I live alone, so you can’t expect any roommate to come along and rescue you.” “Well, I should HOPE not! We wouldn’t want anyone barging in on us while you are handcuffing me to the bed. You DO have handcuffs, don’t you?” “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Sadist!” With a bow and a grin, he answered, “Thank you!” *** He didn’t waste any time before proving it. As soon as they walked into his condo, he led her into the bedroom, where he opened the drawers to reveal a thick leather strap, a broad-handled hairbrush and a pair of plastic handcuffs, of the kind that were often sold in toy stores, but usually not to children. “Wow!” she said, her eyes gleaming. “You really are ready, aren’t you?” “I have been ready for a long time,” he responded, as he placed the implements on the bedside table. “I hope you are, too.” “I sure am!” She gasped with both pleasure and surprise, when he pushed her face-down onto the bed, cuffed her wrists and ankles to the posts, tugged her tight blue jeans to her ankles and pulled her panties down after them. Her laugh turned to a shocked cry, when the strap struck her bare bottom. “OW!” she cried. “I haven’t given you the safe word yet. It’s ‘Marquis.’” “I’ll try to remember.” “Well, you’d better not forget! Not that I think I’ll be using it, after the way I’ve waited for tonight.” She didn’t have long to wait, until the thick, broad strap came crashing down ten times, raising bright red welts across her thin white bottom. Soon she was crying OW! and “Damn!” and “Stop it!” but without ever adding the magic word “Marquis.” The whistling of the leather belt was soon followed by the smack of the paddle, as he dropped the strap and picked up the wooden-backed hairbrush from the bedside table. Once again, she screamed and pleaded, but without adding the safe word that would have ended her agony. She did not even think of saying it when he pulled her up on her knees and used his own knees to push her legs apart. He felt sure that the bruising of her bottom would only add to her delight. Her warm, moist vagina told them both that he was right. He was right once more, when he showed her the newspaper article about the planned community of Spanker Hills and said it would be their perfect place to live, surrounded by people who shared their tastes.

Since those big houses would require both of their incomes, they would get married before making out the mortgage application. But first, of course, they had to go to the City Council meeting to show their support for the project. *** Once in the hearing room, they knew that one other couple came close to sharing their inclinations. They could tell that from the close-fitting silver chain the woman wore around her neck. Based on her own reading, Juliet felt sure that this lady had used a small first letter in signing her name to the list of spectators. After going back to the table to glance at it, she saw she had been right. “You must be ellen, with a small ‘e’,” she whispered to the woman, who kept her head submissively lowered until her Master leaned down and whispered that it was all right to nod agreement. “So you are a Slave Girl of Rog,” Juliet added. Like all good masochists…and some vanilla sci fi fans as well…she knew all about the series that had created the imaginary planet, where men were sadists and women were slaves. Like many other avid readers, those Rogean stories had inspired her lifestyle. Obviously, ellen would fit right into Spanker Hills, too. *** Not surprisingly, George and ellen Rudolph had met at a slave auction. At his first sight of the tall redhead with her green eyes and creamy skin, the bearded bookstore owner had been carried away, to the point of making a $10,000 opening bid, which represented all his profits for months. She had been swept up in turn by this sure sign of his passion. “I am so glad you bought me, Master,” she exclaimed, as they were driving home. “It was my first time, so when I read about the auction, I was afraid to go.” “You had no need to feel that way. We all know that our women’s slavery must be strictly consensual, and you can leave at any time. Otherwise, we’d be committing a federal crime, and we are all well aware of it.” “Oh, I know that. I am an attorney myself.” “An attorney! I thought you people were the ones who made everyone else do what you wanted.” “During the day, yes certainly. That’s why I needed someone to make me do what HE wants me to...at night.” “Weren’t you afraid that that might be rather confusing?” “That did not concern me at all. I was too busy worrying that no one would buy me.”

“How could you even have thought that, as pretty as you are? I feel sure I’ll get my money’s worth, starting tonight.” “I will try to make certain that you do, Master!” To prove it, she spent the evening broiling his steak, frying his potatoes and tossing his salad. Then she knelt beside his chair as he enjoyed his meal, before putting his plate on the hardwood floor so she could consume the leftovers. When she had filled the dishwasher, he nodded his approval and led her into the bedroom. She fell happily asleep there, lying on the carpet beside his bed. *** Linda Lawrence had read about consensual slave auctions too. Seeing the woman with the chain around her neck, she had realized at once that this couple were part of the Master-slave lifestyle, and would undoubtedly soon be part of Spanker Hills as well. That left Richard Brewer, the attorney who had argued in favor of the community before the City Council. He had obviously done a good job, since by the time the meeting ended at 11 p.m., he had won their unanimous approval. Linda suspected that he was in one of the lifestyles himself, whether it was domestic discipline, sado-masochism or Master/slave. Her only question was…which one? This was only one of the questions she would have to answer, when she exposed the Spanker Hills homeowners for the perverts they were. And she knew she had only one way to do it. She would have to go undercover by joining the new community herself.

Chapter Two “Do you carry dog cages?” After all her years as a journalist, Linda Lawrence had long ago decided that nothing could shock her, but this request certainly did the trick. Just looking at her two customers, she realized they did not want the cages to hold any four-legged pets. She also knew just how they were going to use it, when she remembered that the woman had signed her name as ellen-with-a-small e during the city council hearing, and now stood beside her bearded husband with her head bowed. Linda was on the verge of telling them sarcastically to go to a pet shop, when she remembered why she had come here. With her editor’s enthusiastic approval, she planned to expose all the perversions that were rampant at the well-named new community of Spanker Hills. Now she was gathering the evidence while working as a saleslady at The Cane Mutiny shop. Having read one of the sci fi Histories of Rog in order to learn about the Master/slave lifestyle, she knew that a cage was one of its most popular props, along with the straps, canes and paddles that were sold here. They also appealed to other assorted perverts, like domestic-discipline practitioners and sado-masochistic pairs. The shop owner had been especially impressed when she recommended importing some authentic British boarding-school canes, which were now on display above the cash register. Her knowledge of the subject was so extensive, he had hired her on the spot. Like all employers, he wanted to see two forms of ID before she went to work for him, and she was more than ready. Her Social Security card and driver’s license both carried her real name, Linda Lupinski, which was much less catchy than her byline, as Linda Lawrence. Just in case some customer recognized her as the reporter from the city council hearing, she had traded her long blond hair for dyed auburn curls. To complete the disguise, she had also shed the red blazer that so many female journalists wore, in favor of cable-knit sweaters. But it was still hard for her to hide her outrage, when this man asked for a cage, which he would obviously use to confine his so-called sweetheart. “I suppose you want one big enough for a German shepherd” she told him in a brisk, businesslike tone, trying hard not to sound disgusted. “We have some in the back, which would usually cost $250…but as part of our get-acquainted sale, they are reduced to $175. If you’d like to come with me…”

“I am having a sale, too,” the man informed the saleslady, as the couple followed her...with the wife walking behind her husband, of course. “I have opened a special branch of Rudolph’s Reads, my used-book store, only this one is very specialized. We will have the complete works of the Marquis de Sade AND Sacher-Masoch…the founders of sadism and masochism, of course.” “Of course,” she echoed, in what she hoped was a normal tone. Warming to his subject, he went on, “Best of all, we have the complete collection of the entire series of the Histories of Rog…from the first books, with the fighting warriors on the cover, to the latest edition, showing chained naked slave girls. You’ve got to come and check them out.” “I certainly will,” she assured him. And I will tell the whole world all about your S/M porno too, she silently promised him. “I am George Rudolph, and this is ellen,” he said. “That is ‘ellen’ with a small ‘e,’ isn’t it?” Linda asked. “Then you know about our lifestyle!” Smiling brightly, she replied, “I want to know all about our customers.” The better to expose your sick perversions, she added silently, with a broader secret grin. *** “But I have to go over all these briefs for tomorrow,” ellen complained, as she sat in the cage with her papers scattered around her. Instead of answering, he unlocked the door and pulled her out. Sinking down on the bed beside her, he slowly took his belt off and dragged her over his knee. After that, all she could say was, “OW! OW! OW!” as the strap delivered 20 hard, hot blows to her backside, turning it from a creamy shade to blazing red. “What do you want to say to me now?” he demanded, as she lay across his lap whimpering. “Forgive me, Master. I did not mean to complain, much less to criticize you.” “It’s a good thing you feel that way. Otherwise, I would owe you 20 more smacks, for the way you wriggled around trying to avoid the first ones.” “I couldn’t help that!” she wailed, staring up at him as fresh tears sprang into her eyes. “I know you couldn’t, and that’s why I am not punishing you any more.”

“Except for locking me in that cage.” “That is not a punishment!” he reminded her, with a great show of patience. “It is just another way of helping you submit to me completely, which definitely includes not arguing with me, the way you did just now.” “I didn’t mean to! But you know I am an attorney during the day, so I argue for a living. I only wish I could have argued for our own community in front of the city council, but you know the old saying…’Anyone who acts as his own attorney has a fool for a client.’ And that goes for lawyers, too.” She was trying to distract him, but soon realized how badly she had failed. “If you argue all day, that is all the more reason why you must not quarrel with me about anything during the night,” he said. “So I suppose you need me to teach you that lesson again, although I never thought you would learn so slowly. So go and get me that tawse right now.” Opening her mouth to protest, she closed it quickly again, even as the tears ran down her face. If she dared try to plead or argue, she knew, she would get twice as many blows as he was already planning, from the two short leather thongs that hung from the wooden handle. She earned most of their living from arguing and pleading, she knew. But in a way, it was a luxury to have a man preventing her from doing either one. With a sigh, she took the dreaded implement from the dresser drawer, placed it in his outstretched hand and arranged herself over his knee, clutching the chair legs for support. “I gave you 20 smacks last time, but that was obviously not enough,” he reminded her. “So you will have 30 now…and just to make sure you feel them all, you will count them out.” “NOOO!!!” she cried. Immediately, she clamped her hands over her mouth, although she knew with a sinking heart that it was already too late. “Thirty five!” he told her. And they will start now…” “OW! OW! OW! One, one, ONE!!!” Her counting could barely be heard above her shrieks, as she struggled to force each number out, while the double lashes cut into her backside, leaving a bright red path behind them. She could barely be heard through her tears, as she choked out the final words, “THIRTY THREE! THIRTY FOUR! THIRTY FIIIIVE!” “You can climb back in your cage now,” he told her, as she lay sobbing across his lap. “And I do not think you will complain again about having to stay there.”

I was not complaining, she thought, but I know that if I say so, you will take the rug out of the cage, to leave me sitting on the cold metal floor. Bowing her head, she sniffled, “Yes, Master.” “I will be merciful, though. I will leave the rug inside the cage this time.” In a voice filled with gratitude, she exclaimed, “THANK you, Master!” *** It was even harder for Linda to avoid seeming shocked when Peter and Juliet Gardner came into the shop and immediately headed for the boarding-school cane display. The saleslady was well aware of how the perverts used them, but she had never expected to see them acting like two kids in a candy store as they lovingly made their choice. “I like this one!” he exclaimed, as he took her longest and thinnest implement down from the wall and pulled it whistling through the air. The saleslady could barely bring herself to glance at his partner’s face, sure that she would see fear and despair there. Instead, the tall brunette was beaming with delight, as her great dark eyes flashed with desire. “Yes, that should leave a few cuts on my bottom!” she exclaimed. “In fact, after you have given me the first few strokes, I won’t be able to sit down for a week!” “Not just on your bottom, either,” her husband warned her, with an even broader grin. “Just wait until it hits the backs of your legs a few times.” “OOOOOH!” she giggled, as she pretended to shiver in fear. “It was called ‘six of the best’ in the British boarding schools,” Linda responded, in her most cheerful tone. “That means it was used for six strokes.” “We are aware of that,” the man replied. “But I feel certain that those first six cuts will just get me started. I could even get so carried away, I might even ignore the safe word.” “But you have never done that before, Peter,” his wife reminded him, with the first sign of fear in her voice. “Well,” he warned her, with an even wider smile, “there is always a first time.” “OOOOOH!” she cried again, and this time her desire was obviously mingled with dread. From what she knew of their S/M lifestyle, Linda felt sure that that wildly mixed feeling was just what Juliet enjoyed most of all. *** The Gardners were both so excited, they could barely wait to get through their pizza and wine, while watching the evening news on the kitchen-table TV.

“Leave the dishes,” he told her, as they rose from the table. “Unless you are trying to put off your punishment.” “Not for a moment! I have been looking forward to this all day, ever since we bought that thing this morning!” “Then let’s get started!” Pointing to the adjoining dining room, he ordered, “bend over that table. But be careful not to hit your head on the chandelier, the way you did last time.” “Yes, sir!” she happily responded, as he went into the living room to take the cane down from its place of honor over the marble mantel. As she heard the cane whistling through the air, she looked over her shoulder to see him advancing on her, with his most devilish grin. He placed the implement on the tablecloth beside her, long enough to unzip her trousers, tug them down to her ankles and pull her panties after them. As he worked, the feeling of his long, thick fingers made her wait all the more eagerly for the even more exciting contact to come. She did not have to wait long, before the cane whistled through the air again, slashing deep into her bottom. The blow felt as cold as ice as it landed, but the freezing pain soon gave way to a fiery agony. Glancing over her shoulder again, she saw the red streak appearing where the cane had struck. “OW!” she cried, as tears filled her eyes. “OW! OW! OW!” she howled, as the cane fell again and again. Her suffering grew even greater, as the red lines criss-crossed each other. “That’s six!” she finally shouted. “Six of the best, remember?” “And we said we were going to enjoy lots more than that, starting…with…THIS!” “OWWW!” she shrieked in reply, as the cane fell across the tops of her legs. She bent one knee after another in a desperate effort to shield her slim thighs from the merciless blows, but he kept bringing the cane down unerringly on the area that she had to leave exposed. “Keep your legs still,” he warned her. “They keep getting in my way! If you bend your knee one more time, you will get six more across both legs.” “But you have given me more than six on my thighs! Never mind not being able to sit down…I will not even be able to walk!”

“Good, then you can lie on your face,” he told her, panting from the exertion now. “By the time I am finished with you, you will not be able to do much more than that.” To emphasize his words, he brought the cane down across her thighs with all his force. “Marquis! Marquis!” she finally shrieked, using the safe word they had chosen on their first encounter…in honor of the famed Marquis de Sade, who had given his name to sadism. To her dismay, her own sadistic partner did not seem to have heard her, as the cane slashed across the backs of both her legs three more times. “Marquis! Marquis! Peter, didn’t you hear me?” she wailed, as she burst into tears. At that, he finally dropped the cane onto the table. “I heard,” he admitted. “But I just got carried away. Now it’s your turn to get carried away, too…in a more literal sense.” “I really don’t feel like it! Just as you said, I only want to lie on the bed...face down.” “And that’s what I want you to do, too,” he whispered, as he pulled her up from the table and took her into his arms, being careful to keep from touching her red-streaked thighs and backside. Carrying her into the bedroom, he dropped her onto the four-poster bed, then pulled her up to her knees. Still careful to avoid the injured areas, he thrust himself into her vagina and was pleased to realize that it was as warm and wet as ever. “If this is what it does to you, I’ll have to ignore the safe word more often,” he told her, as he pushed himself deeper inside her. Mindless of the pain it caused, she pressed her wriggling bottom up towards him in reply. *** Linda felt even more outrage when she greeted the first customers the next day. Unlike Juliet the masochist or ellen the Rogean slave girl, Grace Wilcox did not seem to be at all excited by the implements that her husband examined in front of her. They obviously frightened the poor woman, and that was just what he wanted. The only way the saleslady could smile at this customer, was by reminding herself of the camera over the counter. It would prove that her shocking story was true, while causing no end of embarrassment to this perverted policeman. Getting him kicked off the force would be enough of a reward for her efforts, since it would stop him from brutalizing anyone except his wife. “I used to use a hairbrush,” he told the woman, as he dug in his pocket for cash. (Of course, he was too smart to use a credit card in a place like this, Linda realized.)

“But this will help me get my message across even more clearly, won’t it, Grace?” And he held the wide, thick paddle up in front of his wife’s eyes, which were wide with fear. “It certainly will,” Grace Wilcox assured her husband, as she stared helplessly at the weapon that would soon be battering her bottom. “It will remind you not to bend over to pick things up, when you know it hurts your back. Just leave them on the floor for me to take care of.” “But I hate to ask you to do it when you come home, after you have worked so hard all day.” “Nevertheless, I told you to let me do it, and this should convince you to obey me.” Turning to Linda, he added, “But aren’t you going to give me my change?” He must have noticed her confusion, she realized. Indeed, it would have been hard to miss. How could he treat his wife so cruelly and yet try so hard to protect her? It was almost enough to make Linda wonder if he deserved to have the public learn what a brutal policeman he was. *** “I really do not think I am being brutal,” he told his wife, as he stood glaring down at her from above his crossed arms. “You know you agreed to domestic discipline, when I asked you to marry me.” “But we didn’t talk about paddles!” she cried, shrinking away from him. “You said you would use your bare hand, a hairbrush or a belt.” “Well, none of those seem to have gotten the message across. I just hope this will do the job.” Seating himself on the flowered chintz sofa, he placed the awful implement on the coffee table beside him and patted his lap in his usual unspoken command. She was weeping openly as she forced herself to obey him, dragging one foot after the other. When she was finally standing before him with her head bowed, he took her arm and pulled her across his lap, in one practiced gesture. Then he dragged up her skirt and drew down her panties just as skillfully. That preparation was just the same as it had always been, she told herself. So perhaps the broad wooden paddle would feel just like the back of the hairbrush he had used on her bottom so many times before. She could not imagine that this could ever feel any worse… “OW!” The first time the paddle struck her, she realized how wrong she had been. This horrible object hurt much more than even the hairbrush had ever done. She could feel the pain spreading all across her slim backside as the paddle covered every part of it, and she heard the terrible crashing as it landed, which landed like thunder to her ears.

“OW! OW! OW!” she kept howling, as the paddle rose and fell again. But it is so heavy, she told herself, he obviously could not keep this up for long. This time, too, she soon learned she was hoping in vain. His muscular arms were so powerful, she soon realized he could keep going as long as he wanted, without even slowing down. It took all of her own strength to force out the words: “Steve, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, so please stop paddling me, OW! OW! OW!” “You won’t do WHAT again?” he demanded, without pausing for an instant. “I won’t risk hurting my back again by bending over to lift something up. I promise, I promise, I PROMISE!” When he did not even answer, she burst into helpless tears. It seemed an eternity before he dropped the paddle back down onto the coffee table and gently helped her to stand. “You know I can’t ever let you harm yourself,” he reminded her gently, stroking her curly brown hair. “But you just hurt me pretty badly,” she sniffled, as she carefully stroked the injured area. “I know my whole bottom will soon be black and blue.” “That’s right, I hurt you…but I would never harm you,” he told her. With a faint smile, she replied, “I’ve heard that one before. But it is pretty hard to tell the difference while I am lying over your knee.” Taking her gently into his arms, he kissed her forehead and murmured, “I hope you can tell the difference now.” He was just as gentle, as he led her into their bedroom, lay down on his back and held his arms out to her. With practiced hands, she unzipped his fly and pulled his trousers down, revealing the organ that had grown so hard, thick and long, it reminded her of his police baton. She rode up and down on it until she was moaning with pleasure as loudly as she had cried out in pain. Domestic discipline certainly had its advantages, she realized…and not all of them had to do with correcting bad behavior. *** “Mr. Brewer!” Linda exclaimed, as the handsome lawyer strode into the shop. “How can we help you here? We sell tools for any lifestyle…domestic discipline, sado-masochism or even Master-slave…but all strictly consensual, of course.” “Yes, as the community’s attorney, I have seen to that. But I do not follow any lifestyle at all…I only look out for my clients’ civil rights, and that is the right to follow any lifestyle they choose.”

She flinched as he strode towards the counter, while lowering his voice in a menacing way. “And others do not have the right to invade their privacy and expose them to the world.” Her own voice was almost a squeak, as she replied, “What do you mean by ‘expose’?” “I mean, tell everyone about their private lives, the way that you reporters love to do.” “But what makes you think I am any such thing?” she asked, trying to sound surprised. “You see that I am just a saleslady here.” She jumped, as his fist slammed down on the counter. “And what makes you think I am a fool? Whenever I passed by here and saw you, I always had the feeling I had seen you before. “Last night it came to me where it was…the city council hearing on Spanker Hills. So I pictured you with long blond hair instead of those red curls, and I knew I was right. Even then, you must have been planning to disgrace the entire community in front of all the world...unless someone stopped you.” “But what about freedom of the press?” she demanded desperately, edging towards the exit. “Don’t I have the right to publish the truth…and doesn’t the public have the right to know it?” “Not if it means humiliating innocent people and perhaps even costing them their jobs. So just give me your word you will drop this story and leave this town for good. That will be the end of it.” With a burst of defiance, she replied, “Why should I do that?” “Because,” he told her, as his own voice sank even further. “Because otherwise, I will blister your bottom until you do. Some of our local men have told me in great detail how they blister their wives’ backsides, because those clients needed me to warn them if they were going beyond the law. Now it’s my turn to use the information they gave me…about how to administer a really thorough spanking.” “Coercion!” she cried, as she shrank further away from him. “A promise made because of a threat is no good at all.” For a moment, she had the satisfaction of seeing him nod in reluctant agreement. Then his eyes blazed again, as he sneered, “But you are here, working in this shop that specializes in paddles, straps and canes, for people who know how to use them. “So naturally, I have the right to assume you feel the same way they do, and therefore I am not threatening you at all…merely asking you to promise not to publish this story.”

“And if I don’t agree?” “Well, then…I’ll just wait until you change your mind.” Her sigh of relief lasted for only a moment, before he went on, “And while I am waiting, I will try some of your merchandise out on you…starting with this.” “NO!” she cried, her eyes growing wide with fear, as he reached up to the pegs where the leather straps were hanging. As he pulled down the widest and thickest, she made a desperate race for the door.

Chapter Three Linda made it only halfway to the door, before Richard dropped the strap, grasped her arm and pulled her back into the shop. “You had better put the ‘closed’ sign in the window,” he told her, clutching her arms and avoiding her frantically kicking feet. “Otherwise, you will be very embarrassed by the first customer who comes in.” “All right, I’ll do that,” she answered, as she stopped struggling. Sighing and looking down, she added, “Just give me a moment…” As his hands fell to his sides, she raced for the exit again. Once more, she made it barely halfway there before he caught her shoulder. In sheer desperation, she reached her head back and bit him on the arm. “That will cost you extra!” he warned her. “And if a customer comes into the shop, that will be your fault, too.” “No, no, please!” she wailed, tears coming into her eyes. “I am sorry for biting you…it’s just that you scared me so badly. I will promise anything you like…I will swear not to write about this community…or anything else again as long as I live.” “But as you said, that would be a promise made under coercion,” he calmly replied. “You said that to me one moment ago…and since I am an attorney, I know that the judge is likely to agree. Now I just want to make sure that if you write about the punishments that are given here, the whole world will know about it.” “But why should they believe me?” “Because of that camera over your counter.” “It was only there to catch robbers!” “No it wasn’t, it was there to photograph your customers so your readers could see them all. What’s more you are lying to me about it, and that calls for an extra punishment. I had started out with the strap, but now I also owe you a session with the paddle, for biting me, and with the cane, for lying.” “What can I do to stop you?” she pleaded, as tears ran down her face. “Absolutely nothing. But I might not be quite so hard on you, if you stop fighting me. So are you ready to take your punishment?” “What choice do I have?” she sniffled, trying to wipe the tears away.

“Absolutely none.” With all hope gone, she stared in terror while he pulled the chair from behind the counter and placed it next to the merchandise rack. “Well?” he demanded. “I think you know what you must do.” Nodding sadly, she forced herself to bend over the chair. Closing her eyes, she felt his wide, hard hands dragging her long flowered skirt to her waist. “I will let you keep your panties on, just in case any customers do show up. But if you think that will make this hurt any less…well, you will soon find out you are wrong.” He was right about that, she realized, as he clamped his left arm over her shoulder and struck her bottom with his broad right hand, making her eyes fly open in shock. She was stunned by how much it hurt, and found herself feeling grateful that he had decided not to use the dreaded implements as well. It was her first spanking, after all. Once again, his cold voice soon dashed her hopes. “In case you think I have forgotten the strap, you are very wrong again. I am just using my hand to warm you up…literally…because it will make your backside raw and tender, so the strap will hurt even more.” Now she could not keep herself from struggling frantically again, and she barely managed to stop herself from biting his hand. She could not, however, keep from screaming when he picked up the wide, thick leather strap and brought it down with all his force, across her burning bottom. He responded by pulling off his striped tie and pushing it into her mouth. “I know the people here are used to hearing sounds like that, but not coming from their local store. I think I am shaming you enough as it is.” “Mmmm!” she tried to cry, through the gag. She was attempting to explain that she didn’t care how thoroughly he shamed her, as long as he stopped the awful agony. Her terror grew when he paused for a moment, and for good reason. He had stopped only long enough to reach behind himself to pull a paddle from the merchandise rack. “MMMMM!!!” she moaned, as the heavy wooden implement landed with a resounding thud, across flesh that was already on fire. He did not seem to have heard her, as he brought the paddle down with all his force, twenty times. Her gaze followed his, as he looked at the wall where the newly imported British canes were displayed. Frantically, she shook her head, in a desperate silent plea.

“I have to get up now to take down a cane,” he told her, as he put her on her feet. “You’ll get only the usual six-of-the-best, as the English schoolboys call it…just as long as you keep bending across that chair. Otherwise, it will be more like twenty four.” That was some comfort, she told herself, although it was hard to believe it, when she saw him pull the implement experimentally through the air, and heard the whistling noise it made. That sound had been bad enough when she had heard other male customers doing the same thing, but now it was a nightmare come true. She was barely able to control herself by remembering the threat he had made, and realizing that he was perfectly capable of carrying it out. But, for once, she was controlling herself, as she realized with a flicker of pride. In some strange and wild way, she almost felt grateful to him, for proving to her that she could do it. That positive feeling vanished the moment she saw him walking towards her, holding the cane above his head. She shut her eyes once more, to block out the sight of him raising it even higher. Again they flew open, as she heard it whistling in the air until it landed across her backside. Like the blade of a knife, it cut into her soft bottom, making her feel sure he was slashing it to ribbons. Now the gag he had placed in her mouth could barely muffle her screams. “Now you may stand up,” he finally told her, to her great relief. As soon as she had pushed herself up from the chair back, she looked behind her to see how bad the damage had been. “No, I have not really cut your bottom open, even though it feels that way,” he responded with a faint smile. “My male clients have told me that often enough, when I warned them that I could not and would not defend them, if they were harming their wives. “They described what they did pretty graphically too, with all the implements I used on you, but I never thought I would take advantage of them myself. Sure, I rented an apartment nearby, just as you did, so we could live close to the people of Spanker Hills…but I never thought we would be joining them this way.” She could not resist asking the obvious question. “How could this kind of treatment fail to harm these poor women?” “They told me that they had to hurt their wives on occasion, but would never harm them.” Grinning more widely, he added, “Of course, you will wind up having to sit on cushions for awhile, just the way those wives do, but your bruises will fade soon enough.” His smile faded as he went on, “They might even do you some good.” In fact, they had done so already, she realized, as she gently touched her injured bottom through her skirt. They had taught her a much-needed lesson in self-control, when she

had been so sorely tempted to try to run away for a third time. Not that she would give him the satisfaction of saying so. “And what good do you think you have done me?” she demanded instead. “I have taught you that actions have consequences. Your action in plotting to expose these people, who have welcomed and trusted you, without caring that they could lose their jobs and even their children, deserved a just penalty. Now that you know I can shame you in front of the world with those photos from your security camera took, you must have some idea of how they would feel if you exposed their lifestyles to the public.” “I never thought of it that way,” she confessed, lowering her eyes in shame. “I just thought I was being a good reporter.” Her eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of guilt. “And when I read your newspaper stories, I could tell you were very talented that way.” His voice softened as he gazed down at her and saw her obvious remorse. “But why are you wasting your gifts here, trying to expose and embarrass people who aren’t hurting…or harming…anyone in the world? Shouldn’t you be using them to expose government corruption or corporate scandals or something?” “I always thought I should,” she answered, gazing up at him in return. “But I guess not every editor agreed.” “And why was that?” Hastily, she tried to wipe her last tears away with her fingers. He took the handkerchief from his pocket and gently dabbed at her cheeks instead. “Because…because…no matter how hard I tried to do what my editors told me, I always wound up insisting on doing it my way. I just could not control myself.” She paused for a moment, ashamed to go on, but seeing the concern in his blue eyes she decided to do it anyway. “In fact, when you warned me that you would spank me even harder if I tried to run away for the third time, I was able to obey you…and that is the first time I can remember that I managed to restrain myself.” “Well then, perhaps it was worth it.” “Perhaps it was,” she admitted. With a trembling smile, she went on, “and perhaps the people who live here would think so, too, even if my poor backside would not agree. I just wish I had some way to make it up to them, so I won’t have to go on feeling so guilty about it.” To her surprise, she glanced up to see that a dazzling grin was spreading across his face. “Well,” he said, “This community has a very effective treatment, for getting rid of guilt.

Of course, you would have to submit to it of your own free will, because otherwise nobody here would subject you to the Ceremony.” “The Ceremony?” she asked, in a faltering tone. “No one has ever mentioned that to me.” “Of course not! And no one would ever talk about it in front of an outsider, no matter how long you have been here, working among them. I only know about it because they had to tell me in confidence, to be sure they were not breaking the law. So I will tell you the same thing I told them: It is legal as long as the woman submits of her own free will. So that is what you would have to do.” “Then you had better tell me exactly what it means.” So he did. *** “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Richard asked her, as they stood together behind the curtain on the community- center stage. “Not at all! But I can’t think of any other way to make up for what I have done.” “You and all the other women who have suffered through it. None of them looked forward to getting a public punishment. But I can assure you that they have all been glad they did.” “Well, I suppose it isn’t any different from all those old movies like ‘McLintock’ and ‘Kiss Me Kate’.’” “Not at all. Except, of course, that those were comedies and this Ceremony is for real.” When the curtain opened, she realized with a sinking heart that it was very real indeed…and that soon she would be lying across Richard Brewer’s lap, crying her eyes out while he punished her in front of all Spanker Hills. She felt dismally sure that he was going to spank her hills very thoroughly indeed. Stepping up to the microphone, he told them, “Gentlemen and ladies of Spanker Hills, we have a very special guest-of-honor tonight. She is Linda Lawrence, whom you know as the friendly merchant who has sold you so many of your punishment tools and listened to you discussing how you would use them. But she is actually a newspaper reporter, who wanted to expose you all.” She cringed at their gasp of outrage, until he held up his hand for silence. “I know your rules, though,” he said. “If she submits to this public punishment, you must forgive her for any misdeed…just as long as it was not against the law. And Linda is ready and willing to submit, is she not?”

And if I refuse to submit, then their rules clearly state that they can’t do a thing to me, except to send me away! For a moment, she was sorely tempted to do just that. Then she remembered how much guilt she would always feel…and also how much selfcontrol she would be showing, by accepting her just desserts. Even more, to her surprise, she realized that she did not want to leave Richard Brewer. As clearly and firmly as she could, she told the microphone, “I am ready and willing.” The instrument squeaked as she said it, briefly lightening the mood. It soon became solemn enough, though, when he led her to the armless chair at the back of the stage, sat down on it and slowly pulled the wide leather belt from his pant loops. Just as silently, she arranged herself across his lap, clutching the chair legs for support. Once again, she closed her eyes as she felt him raise her garment to her waist. She had chosen a short, full skirt for the occasion, so he would not have to lift it very far and the ordeal would be over that much more quickly. Beneath it, she was wearing the bottom of a flimsy two-piece bathing suit, in place of a pair of panties. It would lessen her pain as well as her shame…but she felt sure that both would be great enough. And they were! As he had done before, he used his bare hand for the first few sharp smacks, so that she would already be sore and tender before the leather strap fell. His hand was hard and strong enough to make her feel sure, once again, that the strapping could not be any worse…even though she knew, from bitter experience, that it certainly would. When the leather fell on her raw, red, well-spanked backside, she could no longer stop herself from screaming and struggling. He clamped his left arm across her shoulders to hold her in place, ignoring her frantic cries. Soon her screams gave way to a torrent of tears, when she was too weak to even try to resist. Her bottom was blazing like a wildfire now, making her feel sure that nothing could ever hurt her more than the pain she had suffered already. She soon learned better, once again, when the strap fell across the back of her legs. Now she was shrieking so helplessly, she felt sure that someone would come to her rescue. Glancing across the audience, she realized what a vain hope it was. Everyone simply kept staring at her silently. At the same time, she saw that the women’s solemn faces were filled with compassion, while many men nodded with satisfaction about seeing justice done.

When the strapping finally stopped, the pain was so terrible that she did not realize at first that her punishment was finally over. She knew it, though, when the spectators finally started walking up the five steps to the stage. “That should make you feel a whole lot better,” Grace Wilcox told her, as she gave Linda a brief hug. “It certainly did that for a friend of mine, who told her husband she had had enough domestic discipline and was thinking of a divorce. She even went so far as to call a lawyer…although not Richard Brewer, of course. “When she told her husband about it, he forgave her…after a good sound paddling, of course. But she kept telling me she could not forgive herself for what she had almost done, until I suggested that they should take part in the Ceremony, so the entire community could forgive her.” “It was almost as bad as she was,” ellen Rudolph said, from over Grace’s shoulder. “I was re-reading Slave Girl of Rog one night, when I suddenly decided that we were not living on any slave planet and I was no one’s slave. I said I wanted to be his equal, and he was not to punish me any more. I guess it was that red-headed temper of mine. “So he said he would not try to rule me…except during the Ceremony. If I wanted to be a free woman, he would not stand in my way. He took me to the spare room and said I could sleep there as long as I wanted to…alone. And he let me eat my meals the same way, while he was away at work. Believe me, it took me less than a week before I was begging for the Ceremony…and promising that I would never need it again.” “I never needed it to begin with,” Juliet responded, with a giggle. “I just thought it would be fun, so I made up some nonsense about how guilty I felt for occasionally disobeying Peter, although of course I did not feel any such thing. “When he brought that cane down across my bottom, with everyone watching us, it was the thrill of a lifetime! Just to be sure, though, I had a secret safe word…but I never had to use it.” “Well,” Grace said, rather stiffly, “it does not sound much like a punishment where either one of you was concerned. Discipline is supposed to correct your faults. You are not supposed to enjoy it, Juliet, or to help Ellen play her slave-girl games.” “No,” Juliet answered, her black eyes flashing dangerously, “but it is supposed to make women like you feel like naughty little girls who will never grow up.” Tossing back her red curls, ellen nodded in agreement. “Ladies, please!” Richard exclaimed. “Grace, from the way Steve is glaring at you, I think you will soon earn a strapping of your own. I would say the same to Juliet, except that Peter would punish her by refusing to use his belt. And ellen, I don’t think you are bringing any credit to your Master by talking this way.”

All three ladies fell lowered their heads in shame, as he went on, “Besides, we are supposed to be showing this lady that she has been forgiven. And how better can we do that, than by inviting her to start her own newspaper, right here in Spanker Hills? I can tell you all that she is a very fine journalist…which is the very thing that made her need the Ceremony in the first place. So what do you say?” “I say it sounds like a great idea,” George Rudolph exclaimed. “To start with, I will be proud to have her paper in my bookstore…right next to the Histories of Rog and the Complete Works of the Marquis de Sade.” “And I will be proud to see it there!” Linda replied. “When I realize what good and kind people you really are, I almost wish Richard Brewer would punish me this way again, for trying to work against you.” As he stepped towards her, she added, with a little laugh, “Remember, I said almost.” “There is one thing we should all remember,” he told them. “When you get to know them, all  people are basically good at heart.” But once he heard Thomas Pritchard in action, he found that hard to believe. *** “Who do they think they are fooling?” Pritchard demanded, thrusting out his receding chin as far as it would go, while his pale eyes blinked violently. “They named this town Spanker Hills and said it was in honor of Henrietta Spanker, but I could not find anything that said any such person had ever existed. “No…believe me, I feel sure that that little community is filled with domestic discipline and sado-masochism and Master-slave stuff and every kind of disgusting, perverted spankings that anyone can imagine. I would never have thought of joining them, if I did not hope that they will accept the way I punish you.” “I know I have had a hard time accepting it myself,” the slim brunette murmured, as she placed the steaming bowl of beef stew on the table before him. “You know nothing!” he shouted, slamming down his fist. “You are a stupid, disgusting cow, and physical punishment would be too good for you.” With a harsh laugh and even quicker blinking of his eyes, he added, “Your cooking is almost as bad as your looks…and I say almost, because if it were as repulsive as that, I would have starved to death. I am sure that everyone will agree with me, if they ever taste your food or look at your face, once we move to Spanker Hills.”

Chapter Four It was a classic brick colonial home like most of the dwellings in Spanker Hills, but the neighbors walking by it on that fine September evening heard sounds they had never heard before. Cries and sobs and promises of good behavior were very familiar to them all. They usually met with approval, or sympathy, or both. But these new noises shocked everyone. Instead of hearing the woman being chastised, they listened to the man shouting at her and soon realized that his words might very well be the most vicious punishment of all. “You stupid cow!” Thomas Pritchard was screaming. “You are so fat, the sight of you disgusts me and I can’t even understand why I put up with you.” With a harsh laugh, he added, “Looking at you is like watching a big bowl of jelly wobbling around…except that that might taste sweet. You wouldn’t taste of anything except your rancid sweat.” “She is certainly not fat!” Linda indignantly told Richard, as they stopped at the curb in front of the house’s driveway. “You can see that just by glancing at the window. “She most certainly is a lot better looking than he is, with that bald head and receding chin. Why in the world does she put up with him?” “I have no idea,” he answered, shaking his head with a sigh. “I just wish I could think of some good legal reason to get him out of here, but I am not a great enough lawyer for that.” “Maybe I could write an editorial,” she decided, snapping her fingers at the idea, as her eyes grew bright with excitement. “Of course, I would have to use code, the way I always do…but I could say something about the way cutting words can hurt as much as weapons, and no one should have to put up with them.” He thought about that for a moment, then decisively shook his head. “It’s a nice idea, but it would only make things worse for her, because hurting her is just what he wants to do. This guy really is a sadist.” With a faint smile, he added, “Although I would certainly never say that around Juliet and Peter or anyone else who is in a consensual S/M relationship.” “But the Pritchards’ relationship must be consensual, too, or she would have walked out long ago.” “That is not so easy,” he told her, shaking his head again. “I have known women who wanted desperately to leave the husbands who abused them…but at the last moment they

dropped the divorce proceedings, because they were afraid they could not fend for themselves. And perhaps they were right…because if any man is cruel enough to treat his wife that way, he can probably find a way to leave her in poverty too.” “So I guess it’s a good thing that I have a career…even if it is only running my little Spanker Hills Sentinel newspaper.” Hastily, she went on, “Not that I am anywhere close to getting married, let alone divorced. I mean, I am not even in a steady relationship.” “You aren’t?” he asked, in a tone of mock amazement. “Then what is going on between us?” “Friendship,” she told him firmly. “And perhaps more than that. I mean, I rely on you, and I know you will always straighten me out when I need it.” “You mean, you would let me spank you again? You certainly did not seem to enjoy it much the first time.” “I did not like it at all…at the time! But I knew it was helping me to show some selfcontrol. And I also know that if you spanked me again, that would also be because I needed it.” “That sounds like more than friendship to me.” She was about to ask him what it did sound like, when he answered her unspoken question by taking her into his arms and kissing her just as soundly as he had spanked her before. “So will you marry me…or must I spank you into saying yes?” For a moment, she could only stare at him in stunned delight. “But why do you want to marry me?” He had to think about that in turn. “Well,” he finally said, in the same light tone, “since we are in a domestic discipline relationship already, we should make it official. It isn’t called friendship discipline, after all.” His voice grew more serious, as he added, “That is…if you want to be my wife. And here, that means vowing to love, honor and obey,   just as it is written in the Bible.” “Actually, it was written by Katherine Parr, for her marriage to Thomas Seymour, after her first husband Henry VIII had conveniently left her a widow. Apparently Sir Thomas forgot his own promise to love, honor and cherish his bride, because he tried his best to throw her over for Princess Elizabeth, their royal ward.” “Did you learn all that from watching the ‘Elizabeth R’ miniseries on TV?” he teased.

“Actually, I found out about it when I majored in history at college.” More seriously, he added, “But that doesn’t mean the ‘obey’ part won’t work for modern couples like us.” “Haven’t you noticed that we are making it work already? So, as you said, we really should…” he silenced her with another long, hard kiss. *** An hour later, Thomas Pritchard was still screaming, although the effort had left him hoarse more than an hour ago. “I would throw you out of my house, except that no one else would take you in, and you could not possibly earn a living because you are so lazy and stupid and utterly worthless.” “And you are the kind of man who gives sadism a bad name!” Peter muttered, gripping the steering wheel as he drove by. “He certainly is,” Juliet angrily agreed. “He’s the reason why people like us were so eager to find a community like this one, where we would be accepted, by people who understand what true consensual sado-masochism really is. He treats her like a slave.” “Now, Juliet, that is not fair either. Remember, some of our best friends are consensual slaves and Masters, even if we don’t agree with their lifestyle. But this guy is giving slavery a bad name, too.” George, the Master and ellen, his willing slave girl, would have heartily agreed. *** “That’s the kind of man who makes people look down on us, even the ones who are into domestic discipline or sado-masochism or some other spanking lifestyle like ours,” ellen said with a sigh, as Thomas’ heartless verbal attacks carried into their lawn. “Now we might as well go inside, so we won’t have to hear him. And we have so few nice autumn evenings left!” “Yes,” George answered bitterly. “But in most communities we would have to stay inside almost all year round, so the neighbors would not see you sitting at my feet while I lie around on this lounge chair. That would make them think we were like him.” *** “And to think some people believe he is like us,” Steve said with a scowl, as he shook his crewcut head. “That’s why most domestic discipline partners have to keep their lifestyle secret.” “How could anyone possibly think we are like them?” Grace demanded. “Why, you won’t even let me carry the groceries into the house, and that’s why you are handling

both bags yourself right now. You would only punish me if I tried to bring them into the kitchen myself, because you know that would hurt my back. “We have got to get together and do something about them. Why don’t we have some of our friends over to our house, so we can talk about it?” “Now, Grace,” he warned her sternly, “you would not think of picketing their house or doing anything like that. As a policeman, I would not be able allow it.” “And as a husband, you would paddle me until I could not sit down for days,” she agreed, with a faint smile. “But there must be some legal way to get rid of them, so they can’t go on disgracing us all. I just hope the neighbors will agree to come and discuss it.” “If you promise to serve your raspberry coffee cake and coffee, I am sure they will show up at this little neighborhood meeting of yours. And we will ask the Spanker Hills Sentinel to cover it, too.” *** At first, Linda was all too sure that there was no news to cover. Still, it was pleasant just sitting here on the floral chintz sofa, among all her new friends, enjoying Grace’s homemade cake until Richard called the meeting to order. “As you know, many of us have had unpleasant experiences with a certain kind of noise pollution.” They nodded in grim agreement, as he added, “I think you know what I mean. I admit I am out of ideas, though. Can anyone else think of anything that can be done, within the limits of the law?” Deciding that that was her cue to ask the question, Linda lifted her hand. “Linda Lawrence of the Spanker Hills Sentinel,” she said, as she rose to her feet, clutching her recorder in her hand. “Is there any chance of buying his house from him?” “It must be worth more than $500,000,” Richard replied…so promptly that everyone realized he had carefully thought that idea over before making his reply. “I doubt we could raise that much…and even if we could, I think he would refuse it.” In a grim tone, he added, “I think he is enjoying himself too much to leave.” “But he is giving us sado-masochists a bad name,” Juliet retorted. “Couldn’t we sue him for that?” “I don’t see how, since you have not suffered any financial loss as a result.” “Besides,” ellen responded, “You have a bad enough name as it is.” “Oh, we do, do we!” Juliet exclaimed, her black eyes flashing dangerously again. “And I suppose you Masters and slaves have a sterling reputation, too. I have never known why you chose to use those words, even after Lincoln freed the slaves.

“I know, I know!” she exclaimed, holding up her hand to silence ellen, who had opened her mouth to object. “It’s because some sci fi writer used those terms, in his sexy slave planet series. And of course you have to follow his rules for the plane Rog, no matter how foolish they are.” “And you named your lifestyle after the world’s most infamous pervert, the Marquis de Sade,” ellen cried, her face turning almost as red as her curls. “Ladies, please!” the hostess exclaimed. “Don’t you know that we are doing exactly what that horrible man would want us to? He is using words as weapons, and when we sneer at our neighbors for calling themselves sado-masochists or Master-slaves, we are no better than he is.” “Oh, really? Then how about ‘domestic discipline,’ Juliet sneered, as ellen nodded agreement. “That’s what our charming new neighbor thinks he is doing, when he attacks his poor wife that way.” “Domestic discipline has nothing to do with attacking anyone!” Grace cried. “It is always administered for the wife’s own good.” “Yes,” Juliet answered, in a tone that was close to a hiss. “That’s what parents always say when they punish their children. Treating women like children is just what domestic discipline is all about.” “Well, when women act like children, they deserve to be treated that way,” Grace retorted, glancing up to her husband for agreement. “And you are doing that right now.” As Steve turned his head to glare at his wife, she quickly lowered her voice. “I mean, we all are. And that is exactly what Mr. Pritchard wants us to do, so he can say we are no better than he is.” She stopped suddenly, when Linda leaped to her feet. “None of you are acting any better…” She, too, fell suddenly silent, when Richard glared at her with a slight shake of his head. She had been losing control again…to the point of sacrificing all her friends and advertisers…so she was glad he had been there to stop her, especially since he had been able to do it without spanking her again, and in public this time. They all jumped, as the door opened and Mr. Pritchard slowly walked inside. “I see I am just in time,” he said, in a reasonable tone, as they stared at him in stunned silence. “All of these women are screaming at each other, proving that what I think about them is absolutely true. They really are stupid creatures, and they are proving it now. “I see they are moving closer together now, but I am sure that once I have left here, they will be at each other’s throats again.”

Laughing harshly, as his pale eyes started to blink, he added, “They are too stubborn to ever see anyone else’s point of view.” “I wouldn’t be too sure of that!” Most of the other women had lowered their heads in embarrassment, but they quickly lifted them again when they heard the reporter’s words. “I can think of a very good way to bring all the neighbors together,” she said. “In fact, we will call it a little experiment, and my newspaper can report on the results. We will all try each other’s lifestyles for a week, and then we really will be able to see each other’s points of view.” Hastily, she added, “We will not use anyone’s real name, of course. None of your lifestyles is against the law…but you might all be very embarrassed if anyone got hold of our newspaper outside of Spanker Hills.” “And what about me?” Pritchard sneered, as his eyes blinked even more rapidly. “Will anyone adopt my lifestyle, as you call it?” “Not at all,” Linda retorted, with a friendly smile. “No one here would sink that low…” She stopped herself barely in time to keep from adding “…because you are a miserable disgusting ugly son-of-a-bitch.” Just seeing Richard Brewer’s frown had been enough to keep her from uttering those hateful words. Truly, his painful lessons in self-control had had their effect on her. At the same time, her simple statement had had a much greater effect on Thomas Pritchard than the most colorful insults could ever have done. She could thank Richard for that, too, even though she still wondered how anyone could adopt any lifestyle that was based on male domination completely. “But how will we decide who will try which lifestyle?” ellen asked. Linda had to think about that for a moment, before she decided, “You and your Master will try domestic discipline, Grace and Steve will take on sado-masochism, and Juliet and Peter will be the Master and slave.” “But that is just about as far from our own lifestyles as we can get, without going completely vanilla!” With a broad grin, Linda replied, “That’s the general idea.”

“It just shows how dumb you really are,” muttered their uninvited guest, as he stalked out onto the driveway, while his wife scurried behind him. *** “This really is a dumb idea,” Steve Wilcox grumbled. “The thought of paddling you for our pleasure...it really sounds sick to me.” “Well, dear,” she answered cautiously, “I suppose that punishing grown women for their bad behavior seems just as weird to Peter and Juliet. We are supposed to understand each other’s feelings, and we did agree to try.” “I suppose we did consent, even if I am not sure why,” he replied, with a gusty sigh, shaking his crew-cut blond head. “Very well, then. Since this is supposed to be for our enjoyment, why don’t you change into a lacy nightgown?” “Yes, sir!” she cried, as she raced to her closet. A moment later she emerged, wearing the flimsy garment and smelling of floral perfume. “Well, do you want to spank me now?” she asked, as she slowly turned around to display herself before him. “Actually, I want to do something else with you instead.” She moved forward eagerly, until his next words stopped her. “But, as I said, we agreed to try this experiment, even if it seems like nonsense now. So, what do you think would please you most…the paddle, the strap or my bare hand?” “Your bare hand, by all means!” “That will certainly hurt less.” “Yes…but I also think it will give me pleasure, too, if I don’t have to worry about any of those implements following it.” “All right, then,” and he sat down heavily on the bed. “Turn yourself over my knee…and just remember that you have done nothing wrong to make me say that.” “Yes, sir!” And she arranged herself across his lap, just as he had ordered. Glancing over her shoulder, she felt herself trembling as he raised the filmy skirt to her waist. For once, she was trembling with pleasure, though, knowing that no worse punishment would follow this spanking. This time, she could relax and enjoy it, knowing she could end the session whenever she wanted, thanks to her safe word…which, as she reminded herself, was “Penney,” chosen in honor of her favorite store.

“OW!” The first hard, loud smack brought a cry of pain. “OW! OW! OW!” she howled, as he kept raising his hand into the air and bringing it down with all his force. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that her backside was turning from bright pink to blazing red, and from a simmering glow to a raging fire. “OW!” she wailed, kicking and struggling desperately, as the flames rose to a roaring inferno. When she was sure she could stand it no longer, she howled, “Penney! Penney! JC Penney Department Store!” Reluctantly, his hand fell motionless across her bottom. Then, to her surprise, she felt it gently caressing the injured area, in slow, light strokes that rose from her thighs to her waist. Just as carefully, he placed her on her back, raised her knees and pulled her legs apart. Her legs clamped shut around him, as he thrust himself deep inside her. She could feel herself opening and closing, ever more forcefully, as she drew him further and further into her depths, while her gasps of pleasure turned into cries of delight. When he rolled over on his back beside her, she cuddled against him with her curly head on his broad chest. “I have to admit that Juliet and Peter are right about one thing,” she said. “This is much nicer than domestic discipline.” To her dismay, he sat up suddenly and glared down at her. “But we still need that for the times when you require correction,” he told her. “I suppose so,” she answered, with a sigh. “I know it has done me worlds of good already. But I hope we can do this again too, whenever we feel like it.” For answer, he gently drew his finger from her opening up to her clitoris, making her gasp and writhe around with the greatest pleasure she had ever known. “I feel like doing it right now,” he said. *** “I really don’t feel like doing this,” ellen was saying, at about the same time. “I mean, I wanted to submit happily to being your slave girl…not to getting punished like a naughty child.” “You are being naughty right now,” George pointed out, as he lay on his back. “We gave our word to try domestic discipline, and you are doing everything you can to get out of it instead. But I won’t let you do it.” Reaching down, he pulled her up from her mat on the floor and placed her face down on the bed.

“That does not sound like a spankable offense to me,” she objected, looking over her shoulder at him. “I mean, I only said I did not feel like doing it…not that I was going to refuse.” “You need to be punished for what you are doing now!” he cried happily. “As usual, you are arguing with me, in a way that would get any real slave whipped.” “But I am a lawyer,” she objected. “I am supposed to argue.” “Not with your Master, though…I mean, not with your disciplinarian. So I will try to spank you out of that bad habit…for your own good, of course!” “But I don’t want  you to paddle me for my own good! I want you to do it because we both enjoy it.” “There, you see?” he cried triumphantly. “If you are really a slave girl, you are not supposed to keep telling me what you want, you are supposed to keep trying to satisfy me. And this punishment will show you what I mean!” Before she could raise another objection, he had taken the hairbrush from the bedside table and smashed it across her bare backside. When she tried to roll away, he held her firmly in place. “That will earn you another five smacks,” he informed her. “But how long will this spanking go on?” she pleaded, tears springing into her eyes. “As long as I want it to…or until you remember that I am giving you domestic discipline. There is only one sound you should be making now…and it is not any safe word.” “OW! OW! OW!” “Yes,” he told her cheerfully, as the back of the hairbrush struck again. “That is the one I had in mind.” She still thought it was a dumb idea…but by now she knew better than to say so. *** “This really is a bad idea,” Juliet sulked, grasping the bars of her dog cage and staring up at him. “You should at least give me a safe word, so you’ll know when I have had enough punishment.” “I keep telling you that there are no safe words,” Peter responded patiently. “You will sit in that cage until you realize that I am the Master and you are my slave.” “But I am getting hungry!” she wailed.

“Fine, then you can make my dinner…and serve it to me while you are sitting next to the table, on the floor. Then you can eat the leftovers I put in your cage. What do you think of that?” “Actually, it is kind of kinky,” she told him, with a reluctant grin. “And finding something kinky is pretty hard for us.” “Maybe we should invite that Thomas Pritchard to join us.” “No way!” she cried. “That would be too kinky for anyone!” But she soon learned she was wrong.

Chapter Five “What do you mean, you want to welcome us to your community?” Standing behind his half-opened front door, Thomas Pritchard glared at them suspiciously with his rapidly blinking eyes. “No one here has wanted anything to do with us, since you learned that I choose to correct my wife with words, rather than beatings. I came here so I could punish her without anyone calling the police.” “We would never condone a real beating, either,” Richard Brewer calmly replied. “Our men may give their wives some pretty severe paddlings, but our rule is that they can hurt them but not harm them.” “And your words have hurt her worse than any physical punishment could have done,” Linda Lawrence added. “Isn’t that true, Mrs. Pritchard?” They were all surprised to see the woman’s face light up with a smile, since she had been standing there silently, with her head bowed and her curly brown hair falling over her thin shoulders. “Who cares what you think, you stupid cow!” her husband shouted. “No one asked for your opinion.” “I certainly did!” Linda retorted. “And I think she has given it to me.” “That just shows how stupid my Karen really is! She doesn’t know…any more than you do…that a spanking really can cause a serious injury. Why, even a man’s bare hand could fracture her spinal cord, let alone a strap or a paddle. She might be crippled for life! But words can never harm her.” “Yes they can, Thomas,” his wife replied, in a firm tone that surprised them all. “I would much rather have a spanking…at least, when you think I really need it.” After staring at her in amazement, it was his turn to lower his head. “I don’t know how to do it,” he mumbled. “My parents always told me how lucky I was that they never spanked me, even if they called me every bad name they could think of. Spanking was barbaric and brutal, they said, and it was dangerous, too.” Richard Brewer’s blue eyes were filled with sympathy, until his face suddenly broke into his usual dazzling smile. “What if I could teach you how to give her safe spankings?” he asked. “Is there any such thing?”

“I certainly hope so!” his wife retorted, surprising them all with her determined tone. “Because otherwise, I am going to leave you…and since Richard is a lawyer, he can help me do it. I will not be insulted and put down any more.” “But Karen, I would have to spank you in front of these two strangers, just so they can teach me how to do it. Think how embarrassing that would be.” “No more embarrassing than being called a stupid cow.” Turning to Richard, she asked, “Anyway, you would not expose my bare bottom, would you?” “No way! Especially not with my fiancee standing here. She might submit to my punishments, but that does not mean she would go along with everything I do.” “Certainly not when it comes to staring at another girl’s bare backside!” Linda exclaimed. “Well, all right then,” Thomas finally conceded. “But shouldn’t she have a safe word, so I can stop if I am going too far?” “Normally, wives do not do that in a domestic discipline situation. But since you are a newcomer, it would save you from having to worry that you might really be harming her.” “How about, well, using the words ‘domestic discipline’?” Linda suggested. “That’s two words, but it should be all right,” Karen Pritchard decided. “Well then, what should we do now?” her husband asked. “The first thing we should do is go inside. These early autumn evenings can get really cold! If I knew we were going to be standing out here with the door open, I would have worn something warmer than a sweater. So please come in!” And Karen pulled the door open wider for her guests. The Pritchards stared for a moment at the beige-and-white striped sofa, which they all knew would soon be put to good use. The sight made Karen cringe for a moment, before she threw her head back and demanded again, “So when do we get started?” “Just as soon as my Linda here is ready,” Richard replied. “Linda?” The lady in question demanded. “I didn’t know you were going to demonstrate on me!” “Well, I certainly can’t spank another man’s wife, can I?” “You’d better not!” she told him.

“Besides, since this is just a demonstration, I won’t be too tough on you. And of course I won’t take down your panties. And in return you won’t resist too violently.” With a grin, he added, “If you did manage to get away, that would be pretty embarrassing to me.” “No chance that I’ll do that, as I know all too well.” “All right, then.” Coming close to her, he said, “You have a spanking coming, young lady, and I will make sure you get it.” “No!” Linda cried, getting into the mood. As she turned to run towards the door, he grasped her shoulders and pulled her back into the room. “You have just earned five more smacks, young lady.” “No!” she wailed, as she seemed about to burst into tears. “I am sorry I tried to run away, and I won’t do it again, I promise!” “Aren’t you going to let her go?” Thomas asked. “I mean, she said she was sorry, didn’t she?” “She will be a lot sorrier before long,” his instructor assured him. But she will learn not to try to escape her just punishment.” Grasping her wrist, he sat down on the sofa and pulled her over his lap. As she struggled to push herself up, he clamped his left hand across her shoulders and used his right thigh to hold down her frantically kicking legs. “Normally, of course, I would raise her skirt to her waist and take down her panties right now,” Richard explained, returning to his everyday tone. “So we will get right to the point instead.” “NOOO!” Linda cried, struggling even more desperately. Her resistance ended when he brought his hand down with a resounding smack, right in the middle of her backside. “Didn’t that hurt her?” his host asked. “I thought you were only demonstrating.” “Believe me, that is nothing compared to my real punishments,” Linda assured the couple, changing back to her own normal voice. “Do you know why I am punishing you now?” Richard demanded, in a low, frightening tone. “Because…because…I left the electric curlers on and could have started a fire.” Turning towards the others, she explained, in her everyday voice, “That really happened, too, and I got twenty smacks for it, with another five for trying to get away.”

“And that’s just what you’ll get right now!” As Richard’s blows grew harder and faster, her screams became more and more frantic, until they gave way to helpless weeping. “And that’s how it’s done,” Richard said, as he helped Linda to her feet. To his dismay, he saw that she was wiping her tears away. “I didn’t know you were really crying!” he exclaimed. “Of course I was crying,” she sniffled, as he handed her his handkerchief. “Even though you were merely showing our host how to give a good thorough spanking, you did it by hitting me hard enough to leave me bawling.” Turning to Pritchard’s wife, Linda went on, “And believe me, you will probably be sobbing too, when your husband does it for real. Are you sure you want to go on?” “More than ever! Especially since I have a safe word...for now.” “But only for now,” Linda reminded her. “You can’t keep using it if and when you practice domestic discipline.” “I don’t think I will use it anyway...not if it means going back to our old ways.” “So let’s get started,” Richard said. “Thomas, is there anything you want to punish Karen for?” Their host thought for a long moment, before his pale eyes lit up in excitement. “Well, for one thing, she was the one who kept insisting on moving here, because she thought the neighbors would accept us,” he said. “Instead they despise us more than anyone else in town.” Walking slowly towards her, he went on in a deeper, more dangerous tone, “So we had to sell our house for about half what we paid for it, and I don’t think we will ever get the money back…not in this housing market. It’s a good thing I can work at home, in my computer consulting business, without having to worry about how far away my office will be.” As she opened her mouth to argue, he went on, “You are always making the decisions that way, Karen…and when I try to protest by calling you bad names, you just look sad and walk away. Well, you won’t be able to walk away this time…and if I have my way, you won’t be able to sit down, either.” Karen flinched and stepped backwards, almost tripping over the coffee table. Pulling her upright, her husband dragged her to the striped sofa, sat down and put her across his knee. When she lay motionless across his lap, Richard stepped in. “You’ve got to restrain her, the way I showed you how,” he said.

“But she is not resisting.” “Don’t worry, Thomas…if you do your job right, she will soon be trying to fight you off with all her might. Now do you remember what I showed you how to do?” Rather than answering, Thomas lowered his left hand across her shoulders and held her legs beneath his thigh, leaving her helplessly exposed. Raising his right arm as high as he could, he brought it down with all his force across the seat of her purple velvet pants. “OW!” she cried, stunned by the pain. “You didn’t think it would hurt this much, did you?” Linda asked. “But believe me, it will be worth it.” “Domestis…” Karen cried. But before she had finished the safe words, she was biting her lower lip to keep them from completely escaping. “Good for you!” Linda exclaimed. “You decided just in time not to stop the spanking, no matter how hard it was for you to do it. The rest will be even harder to take, but it will be worth it, too. Believe me, I know.” “OW!” was the only sound Karen could make in reply. Soon it gave way to weeping, which blended with the loud, sharp smacks that came harder and faster each time. “And just remember…” he said, when his hand finally paused and he helped her to stand…”just remember, next time I’ll be smacking your bare bottom until it is flaming red.” She was still wiping away her tears with one hand while gently stroking her backside with the other, as she nodded agreement. “And from now on, I make the decisions around here,” he went on, glaring down at her from over his crossed arms. She nodded again, before she surprised him by saying, “That is what I really wanted you to do all along…but you never seemed to argue against my ideas.” “I still don’t, and I will always listen to whatever you have to say. But the final decisions will still be mine.” “Except for this one!” she exclaimed happily, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and reached up to kiss him. “So that spanking really was worth it!” Linda crowed. “It was worth every moment,” Karen answered, turning to look at her guest. “And those bare-bottom paddlings he promised will be worth it, too.” Blushing, she added, “I would not be surprised if they are followed by more than kisses.”

“I would not, either,” Linda replied. “But there is still one more benefit you have gotten from our session tonight.” “You mean, your friendship?” “Well, that, too. In fact, that makes three  good things that came out of your spanking tonight. So now there is a fourth one, too.” “What’s that?” “Your husband’s eyes have stopped blinking.” Staring at him, they realized it was true. He was indeed staring straight at his wife. “So let’s celebrate!” Thomas exclaimed. “Karen made our favorite black forest cherry brownies, and she will make the coffee to go with it.” With a chuckle, he answered, “The only problem is, she will have to stand up while she eats it. But that should not be much of a problem, among friends like us.” As they entered the kitchen, the smile faded from his face. “It’s a good thing our kitchen is so small,” he said, “because we only have room for two guests here. It does not matter, though, because the way I have been behaving, I can’t imagine how we could ever make any more.” Now it was Linda’s turn to smile broadly. “I can imagine it very easily,” she said. “And believe me, I speak from experience. As you can imagine, that experience I went through was a pretty painful one…but it was well worth it.” Noting their surprised expression, she took a sip of her coffee and started to explain… *** This time, when the curtain opened on the community center stage, the audience gasped with horror, and some of the members started to boo. “I can’t blame you for feeling that way,” Thomas Pritchard said into the microphone, staring straight into the darkened auditorium with his new steady gaze. “I know I have outraged you all, with the insults I shouted at my wife, because I was too ashamed to punish her in any physical way.” “Well, you were wrong!” one man shouted, through his cupped hands. “I certainly was wrong…until Richard Brewer came and convinced me otherwise. He really is  a great lawyer, you know.” He smiled, when he realized that some of the listeners had nodded happily at his words.

“And he told me of a very wise custom you have, in the form of this Ceremony. It means that if my wife and I submit to it willingly, you must forgive us for the way we behaved. And I do mean we. Or am I wrong, Karen?” He handed the microphone to her. “Even if you were, I would probably not say it right now, when you are about to whale the tar out of me,” she said, with a shaky smile, and the audience laughed warmly in reply. Her own smile faded, though, as she went on, “But, yes, I did wrong, too, in making all the decisions for both of us. I know he let me do it…but I don’t think that will happen from now on. And just to prove it…” Putting down the microphone, she watched as he sat down on the armless chair, which now had a box beside it. When he patted his lap in the unmistakable invitation, she held her head high as she walked slowly over to him and draped herself across his lap. She shut her eyes tight as he pulled her skirt to her waist, revealing the flimsy bikini bottom beneath it. Then she gritted her teeth and clutched the chair leg even harder, as he clamped his left hand over her shoulders and restrained her legs with his thigh. “OW!” she cried out, in both pain and humiliation, as she felt the first sharp, stinging blow. “OW! OW! OW!” She could not stop herself from struggling hopelessly, as he kept up the swift, steady, smacking rhythm that mingled with her cries. These were the sounds of a good thorough spanking being administered, and the audience murmured its approval. But there was even more to come, as they realized when he reached down to the box beside him and produced a broad wooden paddle. Pulling her to her feet, he pushed her over the chair back. This time, the fifteen smacks fell with a resounding thud that made some of the spectators jump. Her cries turned into helpless sobbing, as the weapon struck fifteen more times, with its heavy, bruising blows. When he finally let her stand, she turned from the audience in shame as she fell into silent weeping. She raised her head quickly, though, when she saw some audience members climbing the stairs onto the stage in order to embrace her. “Richard Brewer must have taught you well,” Linda Lawrence said. “Only the basics,” Thomas answered proudly, putting his arm around his wife’s shoulder. “I picked up the rest in a consultation with the new salesman at The Cane Mutiny shop.” “I just hope she comes to the new bakery I am opening,” Karen added, wiping her tears away. With the beginning of a smile, she promised, “I will make a special wedding cake for her.”

“Are you trying to make Linda’s decision for her, about marrying Richard Brewer?” her husband asked, in a dangerous tone. “If you are…well, our audience might appreciate an encore, even if you would not.” “Not at all!” Richard put in, pulling his fiancée close to him. “We have started planning our wedding. and I would have announced it tonight, if we had not been afraid that we would be stealing the Pritchards’ thunder.” “Thunder is the right word for it,” Karen murmured, gently stroking her backside again. “Thunder is just what that paddle sounded like, when you brought them down on my bottom. But,” she added, “I know I had better get used to it.” “You might even come to enjoy it!” Juliet Gardner told her. “Especially if you read the works of the Marquis de Sade…” “You don’t have to worry,” Karen assured them, hugging her husband. “I have started enjoying it already…and I am sure I will go on doing it when we get home tonight.” Ruefully, she added, “Just as long as I don’t have to lie on my bottom.” “I know you’ll also enjoy the Histories of Rog,” ellen put it. “They will make you want to be his slave girl.” When even Karen seemed shocked, ellen quickly went on, “Strictly consensual, of course.” “A slave girl…and a masochist…and a domestic discipline wife,” Karen answered. “Perhaps we can explore them all.” Gazing up at Thomas, she went on, “After all, we will have lots of time together.” “And so will we, once we are married,” Richard said, with a grin, putting his arm around his fiancée. “We’ll give you the Complete Works of the Marquis de Sade and Herr Sacher-Masoch for your wedding gift,” Juliet said. “You can learn from the master what sado-masochism is all about.” “And our gift will be a nice dog cage, with a Persian rug on the floor,” ellen added eagerly. “It will help teach her submission as nothing else can do.” “And, of course, I will bake you a special wedding cake,” Karen promised. “I just wonder how I could make an ornament that shows the groom spanking the bride.” *** Try thought she might, Karen could not find a way to put a spanking couple on top of the wedding cake, as she apologetically explained. Every time she tried to arrange the bride over the groom’s knee, the little feminine figurine fell into the frosting. The artist had to

settle for an ordinary miniature bride and groom, with a little leather strap wound the groom’s hand. Linda exclaimed that it was simply adorable, and insisted on taking it back to her new home. *** “We’ll put it on the kitchen counter,” she told Richard, clutching the little figurines while he carried her through the door. “It will remind me of how important it is to keep my selfcontrol…and even more, of what you will do to me if I lose it.” “Well, self-control is not always a good thing.” Seeing her surprised expression, he added, with a grin, “We do want to lose it in bed, and a spanking will help you do that.” “If you say so,” she doubtfully replied. “I certainly do…and you will let me prove it.” With those words, he carried her up to the bedroom, where he sat down on the bed and pulled her over his lap. “Is this what Steve and Grace would call a maintenance spanking?” she asked. “No, that is part of domestic discipline. This is something completely different, although I feel pretty sure they read about it in the same place I did. But just let me show you what I mean.” Pulling her wedding gown to her waist and taking her panty hose down, he smacked her bottom with his bare hand…hard enough to sting, but not to burn as it did before. Soon she found herself writhing and moaning as she ever had before…not in pain this time, but in the greatest pleasure. “Now!” she pleaded, between her gasps. “Take me now, now, NOW!” “For once, it is my turn to obey you.” And he did…by placing her gently on her back, raising her knees and plunging himself inside. She felt her opening tightening around his hard, thick organ, then relaxing and clenching again, in a rhythm that grew faster with each of his powerful thrusts. At last she felt that he had reached her very depths, as, gasping and moaning, they shared wave after wave of their orgasms. “Do you call that domestic discipline?” she asked, as she lay panting at his side, with her head on his shoulder. “I would call it domestic delight instead.” Smiling as he stroked her hair, he answered, “And we have the best of both.”