She sits, legs open, her chin on her hand, elbow on knee. “Hello all, I think you’ll like this un!” She sat down on that vestry chair, creaking slightly under the weight of bare acre, which made Tasha giggle. Her freshly spanked cheeks on wood nestled. She was ready! Vicar went over, displaying a bare quite boyish but chunky, too much indulgence and not enough fasting. In looks both fore, and aft, Penny was reminded of Finn, husband and partner to Laywoman Lawson, who as it happened gave and received as Penny suspected (found out on a visit one night). A spanking husband and a spanking wife was quite the zeitgeist among the 40 somethings. Equal opportunities. There is always a rather rowdy, ribald crowd, with plump bare bottomed lasses on their knees giggling. The majority are plump older women, with ‘their girl’. We go and sit, she is about to start a tale….not verse, not poetry, but something akin to Chaucer, and his Canterbury tales.

Tasha said, “Penny, now listen we’re both hot and bothered. No need to go far. This churchyard’s large, let’s find a grave stone and you can set to…” Well Vicar look startled but in the face of matronly will, he complied. It was indeed quite a scene. Mrs F pushed herself off the spanking lap, bottom bare red-pink all over – majestic and regal, plump and broad, Tasha thought, with possibly the deepest cleft she had ever in her young life seen. In that moment a plan was formed that before she left for Norland-land, she would pay a visit to that lap, if she could possibly afford. Tasha felt the juices flowing, and had to restrain from bursting in on that scene, crying “please, please, spank me!” Well, another thing which Penny noticed, was not surprising in itself but she took with utmost discretion and tact, although she was feeling very like that herself – a wetness on the lap where Tasha’s weight was bearing. Her instinct was to ignore but note – Tasha would sort that on her own. Yet, she took it as a compliment that she and Tasha could share such things – a bottom bare, the natural juices, all so healthy – that a spanking sometimes produces when done as it should be – vigorously, as Mrs F would say. And what a sight met their eyes. Vicar sat, trousers at knees, his own bare cheeks upon the chair wood (Tasha nodded in approval). Across his lap lay a bottom bare of sizable girth, and rounded cheek being turned white to pink with vigour and vim. In short he was giving it what for with a good deal of welly thrown in. But who was the owner of those bare acres? She could be heard, but face not seen. At the end of the service, I noticed Roger’s mum talking intently to three other ladies. Roger whispered that I was in big trouble now. I was about to ask him why but didn’t get chance as his mum returned. She spoked to her husband, who then left the church with Roger.

As Vicar spanked she advised in clear stentorian tones: “now Vicar, dear, technique to use is outside in/alternate cheeks then up and down and right to left, then left to right across”. The Vicar complied, fell into a rhythm and the music of hand on bare cheek filled the air. You all know the drill.

One early morning fair, whilst out for a walk, Penny and Tasha strolled past the church. As oft they did when Tasha was home on leave. Now it was Tasha’s turn – her long-suffering spanker was getting impatient so she should complete the task , or else. Besides, it was getting a little cold. English graveyards are never warm. So, Tasha without much further ado, unbuttoned the dungarees. The flaps unflapped, hooks were unhooked and buttons undone, until at last the trews and panties came down (not Raeger but M&S) revealing a sight of total delight – a deeper-cheeked rear of width and girth. Penny gave out a cry of delight – “what an inheritance my dearest friend – your splendid bottom bare – which in time will no doubt be passed on to generations yet unborn”.

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No, it was not Michelle. Then she got it. The bottom bare its owner fair was Mrs F – she lived next door. Well, well, well. Matriarch of six herself, of Family Frobisher: a husband, two daughters, two sons, a nephew and a niece. She was no stranger to give and receive, that time honoured fashion of women and men. Penny got a little cross said “will you be quiet or we’ll be caught and then we’ll see who gets it. I’ve a good mind to wallop you now, am in the mood, Lord knows. If I know Mrs F, tables are about to be turned, which we should watch – so your bottom bare can wait for a spectacle that’s rare – our Vicar is clearly a spanking giver, not receiver and he’s about to get it from Mrs F good and proper, if my name’s not Penny!”

Still, I was very relieved when Mum returned several days later to take me home. Mrs Webb told Mum about my caning and she agreed that I had deserved my punishment. Fortunately for me, Mum didn’t think it necessary to add to it when she got me home, and to my utter relief I never returned to that church again.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. 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 At first, Penny thought, it could be Laywoman Lawson, known as Michelle – a very similar size and shape, but no, the voice was not quite right to be her. 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…”