But boy, did this news ever take the shine off my day! I was pissed off. I tried to be cool and convince myself it wasn’t as much fun as a ride in the Mustang, but inside I was screaming with frustration. I would have killed to have been there and to join in. OK, it wasn’t an over-the-knee spanking, but a paddling for fun had been missed. Few houses in the UK have a basement, so it was such a novelty for me. I loved the fact that their basement was used for a games room and storage and laundry. There was a spare TV and a sofa for anyone who wanted to watch an alternative programme.

They simply must look, but not be seen or they both might go over the knee of enthusiastic newbie, old-time Vicar. Mind you, thought Tasha naughtily, that might not be such a bad thing. Ladies of the PPC over a knee – it had a certain ring I’ve never felt that Vera welcomed me into their family, or approved of me as a suitable husband for Lucille, despite our nearly 30 years of successful marriage. While Lucille had been a large, full-figured woman, Vera was shorter and almost slight of frame. Never married, she always wore a pinched look, at least whenever she was in my presence. Why do you ask? Did you want to try? The paddle’s probably still on the table in the basement.” I said ‘yes please’ as enthusiastically as possible! Val laughed and said: “Come on, then!” So Tasha over lap, bare in the air, in turn squeezing Penny’s cheeks. She then announced in a while, as all is fair and all is fine with Penny the same touching and patting the target fair, transfixed and with a far away look. Then came the realisastion and the announcement: “Time to swap places, o chum of mine. In three words, it’s my turn! So over my lap you go.” And so it was, and so she did. Give and receive.Then I heard her trot out this little ditty. “Spank a boy and do it right, trousers down, pants up tight. And if he smiles when he should frown, then spank him with his pants right down.” With that, Aunt Pam pulled my jeans down, exposing my underpants. My face was now near to the floor and I remember clearly the smell of the carpet, mixed with tobacco smoke as Doreen lit up a cigarette. Yes. Yes, I do,” I blurted after only a short pause, sensing a slight twitch in the paddle resting on my hypersensitive behind. She turned on the TV and sat down, looking for all the world like a regular mum. Only she and I knew that five minutes earlier she had paddled my bottom good and sore.

A window was open in that small space known as the vestry. As they passed by an unmistakable sound emanated out, rooting them to the spot. My ‘thing’ had always been the excitement of an over-the-knee spanking. I found the thought of being helpless, unable to move or wriggle away, terribly exciting. However, by 14 I had accepted that the chances of being turned over my mum’s knee were long gone, and it was something I was never going to experience. I did find the atmosphere of spanking that was around in every facet of cultural life quite exciting; forbidden, terrifying, and yet intriguing. At my primary school I was once sent to the headmaster for playfully spanking a girl’s bottom – but instead of getting the cane (which is what usually happened if you were sent to the head) he just scooped me up in one movement, slapped my behind three times and told me to never to do that again. I was otherwise a model pupil, so I guess I’d earned some credit points. The next thing I knew, Aunt Pam was holding my arms firmly so I couldn’t move, and Doreen was unzipping my jeans. Then I was pulled across Pam’s knee in a daze.I brewed a pot of coffee and took a cup to Vera, prepared as she’d requested (no need to be boorish, even if she had been a little rude in the manner of her request). Tasha said “now Penny, you know you want to and as parish council member it is your business to know what’s what, which includes Vicar’s tendency –he is quite new. Call it parish practicalities, and by all means I’ll bend and bare for old fashioned justice when we are through…” Lucille left it to me, along with a complete, and I do mean complete, description of the relationship she had with you for the past few years. In addition to her business, she requested I take over other matters in her absence. The original of this document, in your handwriting, was left to me to use as I saw fit to ensure you did not revert to your old, bad habits. After seeing how you’ve dishonored my sister’s memory by letting her home turn into a pigsty, I’m sorely tempted to just send copies of it to your boss and everyone else you know and be done with it… and with you.”

In the corner is Ma, a stout middle aged woman. Sat on a stool by her side at a piano, is Pa. she tells stories, spanking stories, he….just now and then….tinkles a little accompaniment. On the Sunday morning, Val’s husband asked me if I’d like to join him to go to a ‘coffee meet’ in the Mustang. The other kids my age were not bothered about such things and so we set off, just me and him. That Mustang sounded so sweet – I felt like a movie star. Yes, ma’am,” I said through my sniffles. “I’m sorry, and I won’t let it happen again.” I felt the paddle resting against my bottom, and I prayed Vera would not raise it again. Surprisingly, my former depression had disappeared, completely replaced by the long-familiar feelings of respect and fear of further punishment. She took hold of my chin and looked me in the eye. “You’ve got the face of an angel and hands that are a gift from God. Now let’s see if you’ve got a nice little bottom that the Lord made for spanking, shall we? Take your trousers down!” I could feel Vera’s eyes on my exposed, blistered bottom as I stood teary eyed at the sink, washing a week’s worth of dirty dishes, and the image was making me rise again. It was very clear my depression, loneliness, and self-pity would no longer be allowed.

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Now!” Vera demanded, “or this little incriminating document may find its way to an ad in the evening paper.” The imperious demand: “What do you think you are doing?” suddenly snatched me from my reverie. “You were told to clean this place up!” Vera had entered the room without my noticing. Now Tasha and Penny withdrew from the view, in fair old agitated state. Tasha needed to relieve herself in more than ways than one. Penny had an overwhelming desire to spank a bare. A naughty solution came to both: For what seemed like the longest time, I stood there dumbfounded, staring at this diminutive but imperious female before me. It was over, but for a few moments I stayed bent over that table. It never occured to me to ask Val to stop and the truth is that although she swung a mean paddle (I suspect she’d had some practice over the years as a mom), I had also found the spanking exciting and perversely enjoyable. Val managed to hit just the right note – hard enough to really sting without being enough to have me bawling my eyes out.

At the far end of the basement was a table – and still lying there, where it had been left ,was the paddle. I was buzzing with hormones. It was the first time I’d seen a real paddle that had been used on children’s bottoms. It was about 20in long, including the handle and maybe 3in wide. My second great desire in this weird and shadowy dimension was to be spanked myself by a stern, no-nonsense older female. This was kindled in me by Aunt Pam, with the help of her friend Doreen, who lived with her. Thank you, William,” Vera said shortly. “Leave me now and don’t disturb me while I sort things out in here. You may put the time to good use in straightening up the rest of the house,” she added. “I’m sure you never would have let it get to this condition while my sister was alive.” Penny sat on very cold stone, at first a yelp and then a wriggle, then settled her cheeks in for the duration. Tasha draped over the matronly knee, Penny, though bursting at the seams to begin, stroked the target of her frustration and admiration – the magnificent moon of her pal. So recalling some of the lesson learnt from this morning’s tutorial show, she raised her hand above those cheeks and whapped it down as first shot in an opening salvo. The barrage went on and Tasha did shout out, most satisfactorily “ow!, Oh!, Ah!, aaah” and of course then added “that hurts!”. It is an old line but time-served. Thanks to the church, the Lord above, Vicars and local matriarchs. And of course the mistress of Spank herself, Aphrodite of the Beautiful Bare Acre and Bottom Bare – who else?NOTE FROM THE ORIGINAL: My favorite stories are about the beginnings of spanking relationships. This piece is an unauthorized sequel to a special favorite of this type that appeared in the fiction section of the Disciplinary Wives Club titled, “Guess Who Runs This Household” by Ralph. My sincere compliments to that author, and I hope he does not mind that I have written this sequel. We’ll see,” Vera said. “Perhaps if you are very, very obedient from now on, I’ll save you that disgrace. Still,” she added, “you can’t be let off scot-free. Fetch me Lucille’s paddle,” she demanded, sternly. “It’s time I got to work.” Sometimes, a whole class could get a ‘double stripe’ for rowdiness. Then, if you just got a single stripe on top of that, you were for it. A bit unfair, but this was Anne’s situation. I had also accumulated three stripes this way myself a couple of times, but for some reason escaped with just a telling-off. I remember actually grinning and not really taking her seriously, and yet feeling quite excited, with a combination of disbelief and adrenalised elation! I asked her if it was true that she’d caned her Rory across his bare bottom, but she just told me that it was none of my business – what was my business right now was my own behaviour. I’m not sure how long the ordeal lasted, but Vera had fully and completely paid homage to Lucille at her disciplinarian-best before she finally stopped.