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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…” https://penzu.com/p/9427cac2 on In Three’s ~ Number 14 – Samantha Tries the Other Side ~ Part Seventeen
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Then my cousin Leanne leaned over and whispered in my ear: “I haven’t had my turn yet.” As I zipped up my jeans, I allowed her to lead me into another room, where we were alone. I was elated and a bit tipsy. Leanne was much older than me – about 45, I guess, and quite solidly built. She seductively slipped me a 50 dollar bill, and said: “How about a special private little birthday spanking, in your birthday suit, honey-pie?” 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!” My mind raced to figure out what she was doing and then I remembered: the spatula! Ayn rubbed the cold plastic of the spatula against my burning bottom. Ayn said to me, "George, tell me the truth about my yellow panties disappearing from my dresser last month. You stole them, didn't you?" A little tune is played, we sup our first gulp, look at the bottoms on show, and settle down for a blushing bottom tale of spanking…The two-day car journey from New York to Grand Rapids, Michigan was thrilling – it took in Niagara Falls, drive-in hamburger joints and Howard Johnson’s 47 flavours of ice-cream (whatever the weather). At one filling station, however, I saw something you don’t see in the UK – a novelty birthday spanking paddle… She hushed everybody and announced: “OK people. It’s time for the ceremony – the birthday boy has agreed to have his birthday spanking!” There were cheers, whoops and applause, and I got a huge adrenalin rush. I caught sight of several women rubbing their hands together gleefully in anticipation, but my discomfort was softened by the sherry. At no point did the encounter become overtly sexual, although I sensed Leanne did want to touch me more intimately. But somehow I didn’t want that at all – I just loved the attention to my bottom and the heady mix of my hot, well-spanked cheeks with the cool, aromatic cream. It was delicious, and I could have stayed there like that all night. 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.
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My arms were raised above my head, and I felt someone unzipping my jeans and tugging them down. More whoops and cheers. I had warm woollen winter ‘long johns’ on underneath, which at least were less revealing than normal pants. Then I found myself being dragged across Aunt Peggy’s lap. People were holding my hands and feet, and my nose was near the floor. I could see only shoes, mostly women’s high heels! I was very conscious that my bottom was up in the air, and though I had the long woollen pants on, I felt very exposed, vulnerable and compromised. In due time, this joyous fact would be shared with parish ladies as they discussed the merits and joys of bottoms bare and spanking matters, over each other’s knee as it turned out, on Wednesday nights at Ladies Group. But that was for the near future. There and then, in real time, there was some proper action due. Sure enough a ringing instruction rang out, clear as a bell, which was their cue to resume their viewing position: “right, Vicar, I think you’ve covered the terrain. Now we change places and I show you how it’s done. Only fair when bottoms are bare that givers are also receivers”. There must have been over 30 people present, family and friends. Charlotte pretended to resist, but in the end she quite happily and provocatively laid herself over Leanne’s knee, and there were lots of cat-calls, whoops and whistles. I’d never seen anything like this in my life before – a pretty 20-year-old girl virtually volunteering to be spanked in public. Rather out of keeping with the cold weather outside, Charlotte wore skin-tight white leggings. It almost seemed as if she had deliberately chosen to wear something saucy to get spanked in.
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. Peggy and Donald told me that they’d spanked all their kids growing up, and that they’d all turned out fine. They were amazed that my parents didn’t spank me, and surprised that we didn’t have to take our trousers down for the cane at school. In the Grand Rapids Bible Belt, it was pants down for a spanking, whether at home or at school. I felt a pain in my stomach and said, "S-s-s-spank me? But I did nothing wrong! I don't believe Momma said that for a second! I haven't been spanked in ten years!" 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…”
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Peggy shouted above the din: “Our special little English boy guest, with his very cute little behind, will now be initiated into true American hospitality. You’re gonna be one of us, kiddo!” I was manoeuvred into a centre-stage position by several partygoers, including Charlotte. She whispered in my ear: “Your turn now, sweetie – enjoy! You’re gonna end up a whole lot richer!” 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. 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
Kirsten and I gelled, because I was also adopted. However, we both were given the ‘rod of correction’ for our trouble. More of that another time. Well, that boyish bare which was ivory white soon started turning pink. As Mrs F spanked so she instructed, she just couldn’t help it: “now Vicar, its all about rhythm and flow, rhythm and flow, varying speed, altering pace, alternate cheeks. Raising the hand half-way – crash it down – the hand full way – wallop! – Now a flurry, now three, one on each cheek, one in the crease, a hammer hand, an open palm, now six hard to finish”. The visits were wonderful experiences on the whole, often for two to three weeks at a time, and they were paid for through the books of my father’s business, nominally as a kind of apprenticeship, though I never actually went into the business. That made me even more squirmy, as I thought ‘pants’ meant underpants, and so a pants-down spanking meant a bare bottom punishment. Later, of course, I learned that ‘pants’ in the US meant trousers or jeans, so at least you could keep some semblance of modesty. 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.
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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. Fast-forward a couple of days to Grand Rapids, and the birthday spanking actually theme came to life, much to my astonishment, but not with me as its subject – yet! Another cousin of mine, Charlotte, had turned 20 and there was quite a party. Late on in the proceedings, to much raucous delight, it was announced that it was time for her birthday spanking! 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? Tasha meanwhile was lost in an ecstatic bliss – her bottom stung like crazy. When at last the business finished she asked her mentor a special favour which touched Penny to the core: “Gosh, your spanking hand is tip top shape these days. Are my cheeks red, they feel that way, but are behind so cannot see” : There was more patting and squeezing of my bottom cheeks, like they were kneading bread, and lots of cat-calls, mostly from the women. Charlotte, by contrast, had got a lot of male attention.Aunt Peggy caught me looking wide-eyed and rather red-faced at this spectacle. She placed a hand on my shoulder and said: “That’s something for you to look forward to on Sunday, kiddo!” Ayn scowled and put her face and inch from mine. Her perfume smelled sweet and her breath smelled of cinnamon. It was a sharp contrast between how she smelled and how she glared. "I am going to spank your bare bottom, little man! You are a shrimp and are going to pay for the nasty attitude you've shown me for years." It's true that I'm a little man as I stand 5'2" 120 pounds. I am tiny compared to my sister. She continued in a devilish whisper, "I've waited for Momma to give me authority over you and now I have it!" At this she grabbed my right wrist and dragged me to the kitchen. She fished a spatula out of a kitchen drawer with her free hand and held onto me with the other. She slapped the plastic spatula on the wooden counter and turned her full attention to me. She stared down at me right in the eyes and said, "Young man, you are going to get the spanking of your life." She reached down to the crotch of my jeans toward the zipper, and I tried to stop her but her hands were too strong and she overpowered me. She jerked my jeans down to my knees and, while I stood before her, she reached her long red fingernails into my underwear and tugged them down to the tops of my thighs. The old man Charrington walked over next to Joe and coughed. Charrington smiled and asked, "Is there something I can help you find young man?" Last April Joe bought a blue booklet titled One Night in a Girl's School at this newsstand from a bumbling youth behind this newsstand's counter. Joe looked at the old man with his eyeglasses and gray hair and felt safe that the old man was not be a member of the Spies or The Thought Police. "Well," Joe stammered, "I was, ah, ah wondering if you may uh, have any, oh, blue booklets."
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