Saturday, November 22, 2014

On Courting (and Spanking) a Christian Girl; Chapter 5

© Guyspencer 2014
                                                       CHAPTER 5  (Second Timothy)

Over the next year or so, I saw Ruth get her delicious bottom spanked several times.  Each time I had mixed emotions.  There was a natural male protective impulse that made it difficult for me to watch someone spank my darling to tears.  On the other hand, it was the only time I was allowed to see Ruth’s bare bottom, and there was something amazingly erotic about seeing her firm bottom bounce, ripple, color and dance under her mother’s punishing hand.  The routine never varied.  I always sat to the left and restrained Ruth’s hands.  The whole procedure was choreographed so that I saw little more of Ruth’s private anatomy than the twin summits of  her bare bottom.  Afterwards, and after she was again fully dressed, it was always my privilege to console her.

Ruth always accepted her punishments well.  Strangely, it never seemed to bother her that my own parents never spanked me.  Also, she took it as a given that I would spank her after we were married.  In fact, the reason why I was allowed to see Ruth’s spankings was to prepare me for that job.  Secretly, I couldn’t wait!


In the meantime, we finished our first year of college.  It was now time for us to become ‘officially” engaged.  It happened at the end of a summer Sunday morning church service.  My parents attended for the occasion.  With a smile, the Pastor called the six of us to the front.  Holding hands before the congregation, with our parents behind us for support, Ruth and I declared our mutual love and announced our engagement.  Further, we declared that we were both “pure” and vowed to stay pure until our wedding, “as is God’s will”.  As we tenderly kissed in front of the congregation, I saw many of the ladies dab their eyes with their hankies.  Even men struggled to hide their emotions.  We were a classically cute couple! 

At our very next “meeting” following that formal engagement, Mrs. Marsh finally granted us “heavy petting” privileges.  Finally our kissing and cuddling session could have a true “happy ending”.   It took me a while to learn the delicate job of “doing” her, but from the very beginning Ruth had no problem “doing” me.  To maintain a physical barrier to intercourse, we both were still required  to remain fully clothed.  “Fully clothed” with one practical exception; Ruth was allowed to unzip me and extract my manhood long enough to do her part.  Any other procedure would have been awkward, messy, and likely painful.

So over the next few months I learned every nuance of Ruth’s sexy little body, but only by feel!


That situation partially changed one evening when I knocked on the Marsh’s door and was met by Ruth in her pajamas.  I was surprised!  It was only the first week of the month.  It would have been truly unusual for Ruth to already have accumulated the necessary three “zaps”  this month to earn a spanking.  Puzzled, I raised an eyebrow at Ruth. 

She answered my unspoken question.  “No,” she said, “This isn’t about ‘zaps’.  I really screwed up today.  I don’t know what got into my head, but I drove Mom’s car to the store and ended up doing something careless and almost causing an accident.  A police officer saw it, and ticketed me for reckless driving.”

After a pause and a cough that might have been a disguised sob, she continued, “I’m afraid it’s the hairbrush for me.”

I was upset and disappointed with her, but I still hugged her.  I had never been present for one of Ruth’s hairbrush spankings, so was unsure of my welcome.  I asked, “Should I leave?”

“Oh no! I need you here,” she insisted as she hugged me tighter, and then she pushed me away so I could see in her face.  She had real tears in her eyes, but still I detected that sparkle of promise that I had seen before.  Immediately, I knew that whatever happened tonight would be memorable.


She led me into the living room.  Immediately I noticed a kitchen chair in the middle of the room.  On the chair was a familiar hairbrush.

Mrs. Marsh appeared.  She smiled a tight smile and favored me with her usual motherly squeeze.  “Did Ruth tell you what she did Tim?”

“Yes Mrs. Marsh, she said she did something careless and almost caused an accident.”

“Well that’s part of it,” the lady agreed, “but it’s more accurate to say that she ran a red light and came within inches of having a high speed collision.  If the other driver hadn’t acted quickly, your fiancé could be maimed or even dead now.  Worse, the other driver and her two little children would likely have met the same fate!  Ruth’s father knew before I did.  I just got off the phone with him.  I barely talked him out of using his belt on your darling.  So we will deal with Ruth right now, and get this business behind us.”

That one word “we” reverberated in my head!  By now I had attended several of Ruth’s spankings, and never before had Mrs. Marsh used the work “we”.  Surely she couldn’t mean...

The lady broke my revere, “So Tim, now that you know the whole truth is there something that you would like to say to Ruth?  She’s already heard what’s on my mind.”

My brain went a bit numb as I considered what could have happened.  With that one careless act, Ruth had nearly thrown away our whole future!  My horror at what could have happened lubricated my jaw.  For the first time ever, I scolded my beautiful, sweet little fiancé.  As it turns out, I did a very credible job!  When I finally wound down, she was looking at the floor and blubbering miserably.            

“Good job Tim!” Mrs. Marsh enthused as she took me by the arm and urged me towards the couch.  I started to sit at the left side of the couch, the vantage point where I usually observe Ruth’s spankings, but the lady guided me to the center and indicated for me to sit.  Still sobbing, Ruth automatically stood in front of me. 

By now, I guessed what was about to happen, but Mrs. Marsh made it official:

She spoke in her ‘teaching voice,’ “Tim, I want you to give Ruth a good hard spanking.  Then, you will observe while I finish the job with the hairbrush.  OK?”

Doubtless my voice shook a little as I answered, “Yes Ma’am”.  

She continued with a familiar warning, “Nothing that happens here changes any of our rules.  Until your wedding, you may not spank Ruth unless I agree and supervise, and you aren’t allowed to remove even one item of her clothing without my permission.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Then just this once, you may remove Ruth’s pajama bottoms.”

She didn’t need to tell me twice!  My hands shook as they reached towards the elastic at her tiny waist.  I grasped her pink pajama bottoms and pulled down expecting a close-up view of a well-filled pair of modest panties.

But I gaped stupidly at the unexpected sight of Ruth’s triangle of curls!

Thinking that I had accidentally pulled down Ruth’s panties along with her pajama bottoms, I looked nervously up at Mrs. Marsh.  She smiled, so I relaxed a bit.

“It’s OK Tim.  The panties were just a temporary measure for a bit of extra modesty.  But you and Ruth are officially engaged now, so we see no harm in reverting to our normal family discipline procedure.  Go ahead Tim, take a good look!  You’ve been patient for almost two years, so I suppose you’ve earned it.”

Ruth and I had been sharing certain intimacies together long enough that I was confident she wouldn’t mind, so I took the mother at her word.  Restraining myself from the urge to touch, I look a long look at the place of my dreams!  I admired the swell of her hips, noted her tan lines, and ogled the tantalizing lips that peeked through the bottom of her feminine triangle.  Her bottom wasn’t yet in sight, but I expected a close view momentarily!

Then it was time to get back to business.  Determined to put my own mark on this occasion, I stood and hugged the wet-cheeked girl.  “This is going to hurt,” I said, “You could have ruined our whole life together before it really had a chance to get started.”

She sobbed her answer, “I know Tim.  You have to spank me hard because I deserve it.  You’re my man, so now it’s your job to do that.  I’ll accept my punishment and I won’t be mad at you.”

Then I sat down in the exact center of the couch and purposely patted my lap.  Without delay, Ruth crawled up on the couch, gave me a kiss in the cheek, and then put herself into position.  Ruth’s weight pushed down on my lap, but a certain part of me pushed back at her.  I wondered if she would notice, and what she would think of me if she did. 

I looked down, and for the first time ever saw her bare bottom looking up at me.  It was gorgeous, perfect!  The twin globes were pure white, but that would soon change!

Yes, I considered this serious business, and I knew I had a solemn job to do, but part of me was in heaven!  I wondered: Was it the same for Ruth?  Was part of her as happy to be across my lap as I was happy to have her there?    

By now Mrs. Marsh had occupied my old spot on the couch, so Ruth put her hands in her mother’s lap to be restrained.  I raised the hem of her pajama top high, and then wrapped my left arm around her tiny waist, pinning her into place.      

Following Mrs. Marsh’s usual procedure, I spoke gently but firmly to Ruth, reminding her why she was about to be punished.  Then I raised my hand to almost shoulder height, and landed my very first spank to Ruth’s taut young nether flesh.  She flinched, but there was no other immediate reaction.  I stared at the hand-shaped pink spot on her right cheek, amazed that I possessed the privilege of putting it there.  

I must have stared too long, because Mrs. Marsh broke my revere, “Let’s get on with it Tim.”

I nodded, and then obeyed, peppering Ruth’s bottom with mild stinging spanks as I had seen Mrs. Marsh do several times before.  I took several minutes to apply this first “layer” of spanks.  I  started at the very top of her nether divide, and then slowly spanked my way all the way down her mounds to her sit spots, then peppered her thighs, and finally spanked my way down the backs of her legs halfway to the hollows of her knees.  In the process, I spanked every square inch of her spankable territory to a uniform pink hue.

By the time I was done, she was squirming and sobbing.

Then came the first pause.  I allowed my hand to roam possessively on her pink twin cheeks.  Again putting my own mark on the occasion by slightly changing the routine, I required her to explain why she was being punished.  She managed to sob out a satisfactory answer.  Then it was time to start “layer two” of Ruth’s spanking.   

The goal here is to use spanks that are just hard enough to build up an irresistible sting, but not severe enough to risk bruising.  It took me a few moments to find the proper force to apply.  My first efforts failed to produce the noise and the reaction from Ruth that I expected.  So I carefully escalated the force of my spanks until Ruth was finally driven over the emotional edge, bawling and illogically begging for respite that she knew wouldn’t come.     

By now her naked torso was performing a lewd horizontal dance in my lap, I gasped at the incredible sensation.  The friction of her groin against mine threatened to drive me to climax.  Her bottom flattened, roiled, and then sprang back to shape with each spank.  As I spanked, it gradually took on a darker and darker shade of red.   For some reason, her buttocks alternately tightened together and then opened, winking her little pucker hole at me.

By the time I had spanked my way down to her “sit spots”, her legs had become mobile.  As I continued my duty, her kicks escalated.  Finally, when she had lost all control of her legs, their movements became both vertical and horizontal.  As her thighs opened, I was treated to glimpses of the rear aspect of her private parts, a heady sight indeed for any young man!

As those thighs opened, Ruth also unwillingly opened new spanking vistas for me, her tender, white, heretofore unspanked inner thighs.  Each time I landed a spank there, she shrieked and slammed her thighs closed, only to forget and expose them again a few spanks later.   
Somehow, my addled brain knew when I had completed the second “layer” of Ruth’s spanking, so I paused.  Now her bottom, sit spots, thighs and upper legs were a uniform bright red, but still not at the point of bruising.

As Ruth bawled, I continued to restrain her, but reached over to caress her hair and the nape of her neck with my free hand.  Finally she quieted a bit as she realized that she wasn’t being spanked. 

Unsure when Mrs. Marsh would want to take over with the hairbrush, I looked at her for further instructions.

“You’ve done a good job so far,” she enthused, “I always knew that you would make a good husband for Ruth.  You’re a Godly young man, and you truly care about my daughter.  What more could a mother ask?”

I basked in this unexpected praise, but that didn’t tell me what to do next.  So finally I asked.

“Oh, sorry,” she said.  “We should have talked about that earlier.  I will use the hairbrush on her bottom and sit spots, so just give her a few hard swats there and save the rest for me.  But then finish off her thighs and upper legs with your hand because she doesn’t have enough padding there to take the hairbrush.  OK?”   

“Yes Ma’am,” I said.

“You’re a strong man so don’t use your full strength, but make this next part hurt,” she ordered.

“Yes Ma’am,” I repeated, as I raised my hand high for the first spank.

Using more force than before, I landed two hard and fast swats on each of Ruth’s sweet buttocks.  Ruth shrieked and bucked with surprising strength.  Those spanks stung my hand!  Although doubtless Ruth wished that I would stop spanking her, doing so wouldn’t have done her a kindness.  Her mother would just make up the difference with the hairbrush!  So I continued my work until each buttock had absorbed six soberingly hard spanks.   Then I briefly directed my corporal attentions to her sit spots, before moving down to her lower regions. 

I took more time on Ruth’s thighs and legs, because Mrs. Marsh wouldn’t be visiting that part of her anatomy with the hairbrush.  My swats here weren’t quite as hard since she had less padding in this area.  Besides, my hand really hurt!  This experience gave me more respect for Mrs. Marsh.  The lady must have palms of iron!  She had once spanked both myself and Ruth on the same evening, yet never showed the slightest strain.

None too soon for Ruth, I was done.  I held the blubbering bare bottomed girl in place as I looked at Mrs. Marsh for approval.  She gave me a silent “thumbs up”.  Now I was done, but Ruth still unfortunately had a date with the hairbrush.

I spoke gently to Ruth, but was careful to remind her that this was only a pause and a slight change of venue.  Purposely, Mrs. Marsh walked to the kitchen chair, picked up the waiting hairbrush and then sat.  I helped Ruth to her feet.  Still blubbering, she wanted to dance and rub, but I didn’t allow it.  Holding her firmly by her upper arms, I led her to the chair and urged her over her mother’s waiting lap.

Mrs. Marsh took a moment to raise the hem of Ruth’s pajama top almost to her bra strap, leaving her naked from there down. 

Then she spoke in her ‘teaching voice’, “Tim this hairbrush multiplies your strength, so use it rarely and then only with caution.  I use it to ‘brand’ a bottom.  By ‘brand” I mean to leave mild bruises that will hurt for the next few days as a reminder of the lesson I’m trying to teach.  As Ruth’s husband I hope you have no need for it, but watch closely anyhow.”

Ruth knew what was coming, so she started wailing even before the first swat.  The hairbrush flattened each cheek in turn as it did its noisy work.  As loud as the hairbrush was in that living room, Ruth’s shrieks were louder. 

As I watched the poor girl absorb her last few seconds of punishment, her legs scissored wide open, a distracting view.

As usual, Mrs. Marsh completed her “brush work” quickly, not wishing to prolong that portion of the punishment.  So finally it was over!  When Ruth had quieted enough to make conversation possible, Mrs. Marsh pointed in turn to the summit of each of Ruth’s cheeks and her sit spots.  “Tomorrow there will be four bruises here.  It will take about a week for them to fade, and she will feel a reminder whenever she sits for the next few days.”

Then she winked, but still spoke seriously, “I will see that you get a peek tomorrow, just for educational purposes.”

Finally, she helped the sobbing girl to her feet, and gave her a long hug, whilst mumbling calming, loving and forgiving words into her ear. 

Automatically I went to fetch the familiar jar of skin cream.  At Mrs. Marsh’s suggestion, I gave Ruth a long full-body hug.  Then I sat on the couch and took Ruth back across my lap to gently apply the cooling cream to her livid bottom.


Ruth jumped at the first touch of the cold lotion, but then quickly relaxed and actually purred a bit as it did its work.  Because I had landed several spanks on her inner thighs, it was legitimately necessary for her to spread her thighs so I could reach that area.  The wonderful sight before my eyes caused my temporarily faded arousal to painfully spring back to the fore.  I knew that I would have to allow Ruth up soon, and then there would be no hiding my condition.  I only hoped that both mother and daughter would understand.   

Reluctantly, I finally helped Ruth to her feet.  Still nude from the waist down, she sobbed as she ruefully explored her swollen and sore bottom with both hands. 

“I think it’s time we get this young lady decent again,” Mrs. Marsh remarked as she extracted a pair of white panties from her dress pocket.  Obviously, the lady had been thinking ahead!  She handed them to me, so I helped Ruth put them on.  I bent down in front of her, and then Ruth balanced herself on my shoulders as she lifted one delicate foot and then the other.  Then I pulled them up, covering those wonderful curls that I hoped to see again some day.   The panties were what I thought of as her “spanking panties”; white cotton, modestly cut, and loose in the rear for comfort on a recently-spanked bottom.

After repeating that routine with her pajama bottoms, Ruth was finally restored to full modesty.    
As it turned out, nothing was said directly about my obvious condition, but that was probably why Mrs. Marsh gave us a stern reminder about The Rules before she allowed us the privilege of private “bedroom time” that evening.


So hand-in-hand Ruth and I ascended the stair to the hallowed refuge of her bedroom.  Her face was still wet with tears, but I was more worried about her thoughts.  Was she mad at me for spanking her so hard?  As it turned out, she quickly assured me that all was well.

But still, I “knew” that she would have no interest in intimacy after absorbing all that punishment.  I expected little more than post-punishment comforting and snuggling.  I knew it would be difficult, but I was determined to tamp down my own arousal and to not make intimate advances.  In the weeks since Ruth and I had been granted “heavy petting” privileges, neither of us had had much need for self-gratification.  But tonight I glumly expected to take my still-aroused self home for much-needed solo relief in my own bedroom.                 

I still had much to learn about women and about discipline!  She was happy to cuddle against me for several minutes.  She even shed a few final tears into my chest.  When her hand first drifted down to my crotch, I pulled away, ashamed at my condition. 

“It’s OK,” she cooed at me.  “I see that you need some relief, but so do I.  Do you think I’m terrible?”

Horrified at the question, I explained, “No!  I was afraid that you would think I was terrible for feeling aroused.”          

Soon, in full accordance with The Rules, we were laying side-by-side.  She had me unzipped whilst my hand gently worked inside her panties.

For the first time in our brief experience with “heavy petting”, once wasn’t enough.

All too soon, the satiated girl drifted off to sleep.  Knowing I wasn’t allowed to stay, I covered her, gently kissed her soft cheek, turned out the lights, and reluctantly closed her bedroom door behind me.


I wasn’t surprised to find Mrs. Marsh waiting for me.  She always stayed on guard until I left the house.  But I was surprised when she invited me into the kitchen and poured me a cup of coffee.  The truth is that I don’t like coffee all that much, but I took this as a signal that Mrs. Marsh wished to speak adult-to-adult.

“I hope I didn’t put you on the spot too much tonight Tim.”

“No Ma’am,” I replied, “It’s the same spot I’ll be in after Ruth and I are married, so I appreciate the education.  And before you ask, everything we just did upstairs was within The Rules.  And, (I think I blushed) it was the most amazing experience of my life.  Thank you for your trust Mrs. Marsh”

“You were surprised at something weren’t you?” The lady said with a sly smile.

I blushed even more, as I caught her meaning, “I guess you mean surprised at how spanking Ruth, errr...affected me?”

She wouldn’t let me get away with a partial answer, “It wasn’t just you who was aroused, was it?”

“How did you know?” I asked wonderingly, “Yes, Ruth was affected the same way I was, and that shocked me.  That’s what made it such an amazing experience.”

She smiled knowingly, “Let’s just say that spanking your lover is complicated.  The discipline part is still important, but somehow sex is always involved.  Hopefully reconciliation and forgiveness also are included.  You two still have much to learn, but you’ve learned a lot tonight.”

“Forgiveness,” I said slowly.  “That brings up something that has been bothering me.  Can we talk Mrs. Marsh?”

“Go ahead,” she urged, “I’m listening.”

So I took a deep breath and asked, “Well tomorrow, Ruth’s bottom will still be tender, but her mind will be at rest and she will feel totally forgiven for what she did.  She will feel like that episode is totally behind her.  As her husband, it will be my job to spank her when she needs it, to give her that feeling, that feeling of having paid a price and then being forgiven.”

“Yes Tim,” Mrs. Marsh enthused, “that’s exactly correct.  I wish more husbands understood their responsibilities so well.”

After a long silence she finally added, “So what’s the question?”

I almost wished that I hadn’t brought this up, but I dived in“The Bible tells us that nobody is perfect,” I explained, “But it also tells us that the husband must be the head of the family.”

By now she had apparently guessed what I was about to ask.  So she nodded, but I could see tenseness in her forced smile.

The floodgates opened, I just had to ask! “So what happens when the husband misbehaves?  How does a husband get forgiven?  How does he pay a price?  How does he forgive himself?”

Mrs. Marsh smiled that tight smile, and responded in a gentle voice.  “Tim, some men are married for years before they get around to asking that question.  It’s a question that’s not directly answered in the Bible, yet the answer is there if you know where to look.  Unfortunately, that’s the one question that our church doesn’t allow a wife to answer, because it would ... lead to other questions.”

Not surprisingly, I was confused by that answer, but Mrs. Marsh wasn’t done, “You and Ruth have a premarital counseling session with Pastor Jenkins next week.  I’ll see to it that he answers your question then, assuming that he feels you are ready.  OK?”

What could I do but agree?


With a hug and a fond smile, Mrs. Marsh sent the young man home, and then went upstairs to check on her sleeping angel before retiring herself.  

She lay awake, awaiting her husband's arrival from his evening shift at the police station.  Finally he arrived, and soon joined her in bed.

Quietly, they discussed Tim’s question.  They knew that once the Pastor had answered Tim’s question, it was inevitable that Tim and Ruth would eventually figure out a certain family secret.  They might ask questions.  If so, lies wouldn’t do as answers.

Was the young couple adult enough to deal with that knowledge?

© Guyspencer 2014

Friday, November 07, 2014

On Courting (and Spanking) a Christian Girl; Chapter 4

© Guyspencer 2014
 On Courting (and Spanking) a Christian Girl

                                                       CHAPTER 4  (Lamentations)

Tim and Ruth followed “The Rules” to the best of their ability.  In general, things went very smoothly.  Oh yes, they both had to constantly tamp down their emotions and desires, lest they get carried away and ruin Ruth’s purity.  “The Rules” were designed to allow the couple privacy and a modicum of freedom to love each other and to explore each others bodies, yet protect them from engaging in premarital intercourse.  

Like I said, usually things went well and the couple managed (sometimes just barely) to stay within the rules.  But, given the strength of their passion and the two years the couple had to wait before their marriage, it would have been a minor miracle if they hadn’t at least once gotten themselves into trouble with Ruth’s mother.

That memorable day arrived for the couple without the slightest warning or fanfare.  

They were near the end of their first year of college when Tim arrived as usual to do schoolwork with Ruth.  In the evening she usually wore her school clothes until after Tim left for the night, but today she happened to be wearing soft soccer pants.  Tim approved!  Those pants clung to Ruth’s form, accenting her delicious curves.  As usual, after their homework they climbed the stairs hand-in-hand for some “private” time in Ruth’s bedroom. 

Following The Rules, they left the lights on and left the bedroom door wide open.  Those precautions were mostly psychological however, because they had never known Ruth’s mother to actually peek in on them.  However, it was sobering to know that she might!

As usual, they started with some snuggling and light kissing, and then things naturally escalated until they were wrestling together on the bed and feeling under each others clothes.  Still, everything they were doing was well within The Rules.  Everything that is, until Tim got slightly carried away.

Normally taking down Ruth’s pants would involve several steps.  Buttons, zippers, and probably a belt must all be dealt with before there was any chance of her pants descending below her tiny waist.  Each of those items would supply its own bit of delay, and thus offer a chance to rethink one’s actions.  But the soccer pants were different, they simply had an elastic waistband.

That’s why they came down so easily!

It would have been far better if Ruth had resisted when she felt Tim’s hands at her waistband.  Instead, her mind momentarily turned to mush by their shared passion, she did just the opposite.  She lifted her bottom to facilitate their removal.  Her pants descended past her knees before either of them realized what was happening.

Fortunately, it was Ruth who came to her senses when Tim’s hands returned to grab her panties.  Quickly she grabbed his wrists and said “Tim!  No!  We must stop!”

It was if a fog had suddenly cleared from Tim’s brain.  Horrified, he looked at his hands, which were still at the waistband of Ruth’s panties, and he looked at Ruth’s suddenly exposed skin.  Tim was forbidden to remove any of Ruth’s clothing, yet he had just pulled down her pants and had been about to do the same with her panties!   

He quickly turned his back to allow her to pull up her pants.  That done, they looked at each other in horror.  They both knew that this was their single largest breach of The Rules since that memorable incident in the movie theater that had earned them each a painful session with Ruth’s family hairbrush.  

It was a bad moment!  This is the type of shared disaster that can lead couples to recriminations and loud relationship-ending arguments. 

“I can’t believe I did that!” Tim moaned, “Now I’m really in for it”.

Ruth looked at him thoughtfully, “Well we both did it, not just you.  I should have stopped you sooner, but I wasn’t thinking.”       

“Well,” Tim said miserably, “What now?”

Ruth got a calculating look in her eye, “Must we do anything?  After all, nothing really happened.  My pants didn’t even come all the way off, and you’ve seen my panties before.”

For a moment Tim was tempted, but then he remembered his many promises to Ruth’s mother, her trust in him, and the privileges she had granted him.  “No Ruth,” he said firmly.  You explained this to me yourself that first time I got you into trouble.  If we don’t tell your mother the truth, even when the truth hurts, then we don’t deserve her trust.”

Delaying the inevitable, they hugged for a long moment.  Finally Tim said, “Let’s go face your mother and get it over with.”


Looking at the couple’s faces, mother knew immediately that something was wrong, and guessed that it involved a breach of The Rules.  Immediately she feared the worst, and was already mentally kicking herself for not allowing Ruth to take the pill.

Saying a silent prayer for strength, patience and grace to help her face this situation, she sat to hear the couple out. 

She listened patiently and quietly, only insisting that each person tell the story from his or her own perspective, and to tell the entire truth, glossing nothing over.  As she realized that nothing had happened, save Ruth momentarily exposing her panties, she breathed easier.  In fact, she was almost ready to let them off with a scolding before she rethought the situation.  Her rules were intended as “bright lines”.  The couple had obviously breached one of those “bright lines”.  If she expected them to take The Rules seriously in the future, then she should take today’s violation seriously!

Wisely, she decided to make this a learning experience for Tim.  “Tim,” she said, “When you are married, you will be the head of your household and thus responsible for discipline in your home.  So this is an opportunity for you to practice making decisions.  I want you to lead us in prayer.  We will ask for wisdom and guidance in to deal with this issue, and ask for you and Ruth to have the grace to accept and to learn from your punishments.  Then I want you to suggest a punishment for Ruth, and one for yourself.  Are you man enough to do that?”

With the question phrased like that, Tim could hardly say no.  So he agreed.

Tim led the three in prayer, and then silently considered his response.  Finally he spoke, “We are both guilty and therefore deserving of punishment, but I’m more guilty than Ruth.  I’m supposed to protect Ruth, yet tonight I actually led her into danger.  She was wrong to allow me to lower her pants, but then she was the one to stop me from going further.  What would I have done if I had removed her panties?  I’d like to think that I would have come to my senses and stopped, but we’ll never know.  But I promise you Mrs. Marsh and you also Ruth, this will never happen again.”

That speech pleased Mrs. Marsh, but she needed more, “That’s excellent Tim!  So what have you decided about punishments?”

Tim took Ruth’s hands and looked her in the eye, “This is hard Ruth, really hard.  Promise not to be mad?” 

With tears in her eyes, Ruth nodded.  “I promise.”

Gravely he continued, “I take our breach of The Rules very seriously, so you should be spanked.  But not with the hairbrush.  Just a memorable hand spanking will do.”  He paused, and then looked at Mrs. Marsh, “Mrs. Marsh, I’m more guilty than Ruth so deserve more.  I’m afraid that I deserve the belt.”         

Mrs. Marsh nodded her approval, “That wasn’t easy for you Tim, but you gave a very wise and very brave answer.  However, using the belt would require us waiting for Mr. Marsh to come home.  Fortunately, I can do a credible job with the hairbrush.”

In a businesslike voice, she continued, “Please lead us in a short devotion, and then we will begin the punishments”.

Once the devotion was over, Mrs. Marsh took over control, “Ruth, you’re first.  Use the bathroom and then please fetch the hairbrush for Tim before you return.”

While Ruth was out of the room, Mrs. Marsh turned to Tim, “Tim, you have a choice. Do you wish to receive your spanking in private, or should I allow Ruth to remain in the room?  Before you answer, remember that manly as you are, you will be bawling long before your spanking is over.”

Tim thought for a moment, and then gave his answer, “We got into trouble together, so I reckon that we should be punished together.  Besides, if she is anywhere in the house, she will hear everything anyhow.”

Mrs. Marsh hugged him, making him blush, “That’s a wise answer.  In spite of the error you made today, I’m very impressed with you.”


Just then, Ruth returned.  She handed the hairbrush to her mother and then stood expectantly.

All business, Mrs. Marsh ordered Ruth to remove her shoes and pants, directed Tim to sit on the couch in his usual place, and then sat in the couch’s center.  In her tiny panties, Ruth presented an especially alluring picture. Since she hadn’t expected to be spanked that evening, Ruth wasn’t wearing her usual modest cotton “spanking panties”.  

Mrs. Marsh patted her lap, so with fresh tears in her eyes, the girl climbed up on the couch and obediently laid herself across her mother’s lap.  Since Tim was sitting to Mrs. Marsh’s left, that gave him an opportunity to place a quick kiss on her lips before she buried her face in the couch and placed her hands in Tim’s lap to be restrained.  
Tim’s ears burned at Mrs. Marsh’s next words, “Ruth, you are being spanked for violating the rules that we agreed to, the rules that you promised to obey.  Those rules are the only reason I can trust you two alone together.  They’re there to protect you and to preserve your purity, yet you violated them.”

Ruth’s voice came slightly muffled by the couch’s cushion, “I’m sorry mommy, it won’t happen again.”

“Are you ready?”

Ruth blubbered her answer, “Yes Ma’am.”

As Tom held Ruth’s wrists and watched guiltily, Mrs. Marsh lowered Ruth’s panties and then started spanking her daughter’s bottom, using her usual technique of starting out with a flurry of mild but rapid spanks that gradually “pinked up” Ruth’s suddenly undulating and rippling bottom. 

Over the last few months, Tim had witnessed three other of Ruth’s spankings, so Mrs. Marsh’s punishment routine was familiar to him.  Although Ruth was spanked fairly often for a girl her age, Tim noticed that she never became immune to them!  Ruth didn’t bother to pretend that a spanking didn’t hurt.  She had been sobbing quietly before this spanking even started, and was loudly crying long before her mother finished the first “layer” of spanks.  Before that introductory “layer”  was finally complete, Ruth was crying loudly and was starting to lose control of her legs, which fluttered as if she were swimming.       

By this point in a spanking, the antics of Ruth’s bare bottom normally had made Tim as hard as a rock, but today was different.  Today, Tim not only was a “partner in crime” with Ruth, (which made him feel guilty) but she was also being spanked at Tim’s own suggestion (making him feel even guiltier).  Yes, probably Mrs. Marsh would have spanked Ruth in any case.  But somehow, having effectively sentenced Ruth to this spanking made the experience very different for Tim, and not entirely in a good way!

But Mrs. Marsh was very wise in making Tim assume that responsibility.  It would give him valuable experience for the day when holy matrimony would drop all of that responsibility on his own young shoulders.      

As usual, Mrs. Marsh didn’t stop when she had completed “pinking up” the taut undercurves of Ruth’s bottom.  She continued on, spanking down beyond those horizontal creases where buttock yields to upper thigh.  As her tender thighs absorbed those first spanks, Ruth’s cries became louder and more shrill, her throes became more urgent.  The mother seemed to take no notice of her daughter’s growing discomfort, continuing her work until she had throughly “pinked up” every square inch of skin from the very top of Ruth’s nether divide, almost down to where her panties rested at the hollows of her knees.

Finally the first “layer” of Ruth’s spanking was done.   

Then came a pregnant pause.  Ruth sobbed loudly for a few moments, but then calmed. In a voice that was firm but not harsh, the mother reminded Ruth of why she was being punished.  Then she asked the girl a question or two, forcing her to respond, ensuring that Ruth’s mind was focused on the lesson this spanking was intended to teach.

The only warning that Ruth was allowed was when her mother’s left arm suddenly tightened its hold around her waist.  Mrs. Marsh raised her right hand high and then delivered a medium-hard spank to the upper part of Ruth’s right buttock.  The “second layer” of Ruth’s spanking had started.  These spanks were considerably harder than any of the first batch, and each spank was delivered slowly and deliberately.  

With the sting building in her bottom, mere tears would no longer do for poor Ruth, She frantically and loudly apologized, offered illogical and improbable promises of future perfect behavior, and then simply begged for a temporary respite,  until she finally descended into loud and shrill incoherence.  By then, the second “layer” of spanks was complete, so Mrs. Marsh paused again to inspect her daughter’s bottom, now bright red from the tops of her nether cheeks to well down her thighs.  

That pause brought Ruth no comfort.  By now the girl certainly wasn’t thinking straight, but she knew that the worst part of her spanking was imminent.

As usual, Mrs. Marsh spoke to her daughter, attempting to remind her of the purpose of this punishment, but now there was only room in Ruth’s overloaded brain to worry about the punishment itself.   She begged piteously, “No Mommy, please don’t.  At least please wait a minute!”

The mother hated this part the worse, but knew that the kindest thing she could do for her daughter was to finish her punishment as quickly as possible.  As her left arm held her daughter down with all of her strength, she raised her right arm high to deliver the first of the finishing spanks.  Not wanting to prolong her daughter’s agony, she delivered these devastating, full-strength spanks quickly as Ruth bucked, kicked, shrieked and screamed.  

With tears in his eyes, Tim held on tightly to Ruth’s wrists so that she couldn’t reach back.  It was a sobering experience for the boy.  He felt desperately guilty because he was at least partially to blame for Ruth’s pain, but also he knew that he was next, and that his punishment would be much worse than the one he was watching now!

Soon Ruth’s spanking was over. 


Mother held the blubbering red-bottomed girl over her lap.  Ruth hadn’t quite kicked off her panties, they were tangled around her ankles.  She purred softly into her daughter’s ear, telling her that her spanking was over and that she was a “good girl” again.

Then the mother came to a decision, a decision to trust Tim just a bit more.  She reached for Ruth’s panties but only pulled them up as far as the sobbing girl’s knees. 

By now, Tim was hovering.  He was on his feet, but afraid to be seen too obviously staring at his fiancee’s bare bottom. 

“Tim?” The mother asked, “Will you please fetch the jar of cold creme from the bathroom medicine cabinet?”  

Glad for something to do, Tim complied.  He stood back a full pace as he held out the jar to Mrs. Marsh. 

“Not yet,” she said, speaking in her “teacher’s” voice.  “First I want you to notice the color of Ruth’s bottom.  Take a mental snapshot.  Notice how it’s bright red and just a bit mottled?  Tomorrow almost all of that will be gone, you won’t even be able to tell that she was spanked.  But if I had spanked her just a little bit more, it would have marked her bottom, and I didn’t think she deserved that.  You see?  It’s very important to know when to stop.  Stopping a spanking either too soon or too late are both serious errors.”

His eyes wide, Tim obeyed, taking a good long look at the bottom he wouldn’t have rights to until after marriage.

Numbly, Tim tried again to hand her the cold creme.  “That’s ok,” she said.  “You’ve been allowed to touch her bottom under her panties for some time now.  There’s no harm in you spreading the creme on her.  Just be very gentle.”

By now Ruth had mostly stopped crying, but her mother had spanked a powerful sting into her bottom, so she was writhing against her mother’s firm restraint.  At first, she had been desperate to dance and rub her bottom as usual, but this conversation was interesting! 

Nervously, Ted unscrewed the lid and dipped his fingers into the creme.  Ruth jumped at the first cold touch of the creme, but moments later she purred and wriggled her bottom as Ted spread on the soothing ointment.  Perhaps the mischievous girl did it on purpose, or perhaps it was just a natural reaction, but as Tim rubbed, Ruth’s thighs gradually parted to the limits of the panties at her knees.  It took Tim a moment to realize that he had a direct view of the promised land!

Naturally, Mrs. Marsh also noticed, “Ruth!  Close your thighs.  You’ve shown Tim quite enough.” 

Ruth’s thighs snapped shut, and an embarrassed silence ensued.  Both Ruth and Tim were slightly afraid, but nothing more was said.          

Too soon for his liking, Tim completed his job.  “Go ahead and pull her panties into place Tim, so I can let her up.  Then I’ll run to fetch her some pajama bottoms.  Gingerly, Tim obeyed, trying (but failing) to pull the panties up without touching Ruth’s red and swollen buns. 

Still clad below her waist only in brief panties, Ruth stood and gingerly explored her bottom.  She had stopped sobbing, but tears still flowed freely down her face.  Unsure what else to do, Tim ran to the bathroom and quickly returned with a wet washcloth.  When Mrs. Marsh returned, she found Tim tenderly washing Ruth’s face.  “Excellent idea,” she enthused.  “You really are a sweet young man.”


Mrs. Marsh helped Ruth on with her pajama bottoms, finally restoring her full modesty.  Then she suggested that Tim spend some time with her on the couch.  “She always needs hugging after a spanking.” she needlessly explained.

In a more serious voice, the mother said, “Snuggle with Ruth until she is recovered.  I’ll leave you two alone for a few minutes, but then tell me when you’re ready for your own spanking.”

Soberly, Tim nodded.

Before she left, Mrs. Marsh told Ruth, “I gave Tim the option of taking his spanking privately, but he wants you there.  So you will hold his hands the same as he does for you.  OK?”  Eyes wide with surprise, Ruth nodded her agreement.  

While those words from Mrs. Marsh were well-meaning and arguably necessary, they had the effect of reminding Tim about his imminent punishment.  For the last several minutes, his concern for Ruth had blessedly pushed that concern from his conscious thought.  Still, he snuggled with Ruth, and did all he could to calm his freshly-spanked girlfriend.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Marsh pretended to busy herself in that kitchen, giving the young lovers a bit of mostly-illusionary privacy.

It took Tim about fifteen minutes to kiss away the final tear from Ruth’s face.  He tried to appear calm and unconcerned, but actually his guts twisted inside.  His voice gave away his inner turmoil when he finally asked Ruth, “If you’re OK now honey, we had better get on with the second act.”

She looked at her man sorrowfully, and stuck out a lower lip in empathy, “I’m really sorry Tim.  But waiting sucks, so it’s best to get it over.”    

He gave her one final squeeze so tight that it made her grunt, and then one deliciously long kiss.  With his heart beating madly, he turned his head towards the kitchen and said loudly, “Mrs. Marsh.  We’re ready now.” 


Mrs. Marsh wiped her hands on a towel and then purposely strode into the living room to find the couple standing awkwardly.  She pointed Ruth towards the left end of the couch, the same place where Tim had sat during Ruth’s spanking.  Ruth obediently sat in the appointed place, grimacing as her tender bottom took her weight. 

Making sure that the hairbrush was within reach, Mrs. March took her place in the center of the couch.  Automatically, albeit nervously, Tim stood before the two females.

Some might call it a “scolding”, but actually Mrs. Marsh delivered a lecture on Tim’s responsibilities towards Ruth, and how he had failed today.  Naturally, the lady peppered it with a few well-chosen Bible quotes.  She had intended for it to set the proper mood for Tim’s punishment, and was eminently successful.  Before she was done, tears streamed down the young man’s cheeks.  She ended with a dramatic silence and a long stare that drew even more tears.

Finally she asked, “Are you ready for your punishment Tim?”

He nodded, dislodging a few tears from his cheeks.

“Tim, may I assume that you are wearing underpants?”  He seemed a bit surprised at the question, but nodded “yes”. 

“In that case,” the lady ordered, you may kick off your shoes and remove your pants.

This wasn’t Tim’s best moment!  From trying to hold back his tears, his eyes stung almost as much as the future state of his bottom.  His vision blurred and swam.  More importantly, Tim’s brain was overloaded with a potent mixture of emotions.  First, he naturally feared what was about to happen, feared the pain, feared the embarrassment, and feared acting like a baby in front of his fiancé.  In fact, his brain was so scrambled that he wasn’t even aware of his mild state of physical arousal. 

You might assume that “brain overload” was why Tim had forgotten those three little snaps on the fly of his boxer shorts, but the truth was that he never thought of them at all!  Like most men who wear boxer shorts, he never bothered with those impractical little snaps that are supposed to keep the fly closed.  So the fly on his boxer shorts always hung wide open and he thought nothing of it.


In spite of his addled state, Tim was determined to cooperate with Mrs. Marsh and to take his punishment “like a man”.  Therefore, he kicked off his shoes, lowered his trousers, and then stepped out of them.  He left his pants piled atop his shoes, and then turned to stand before the two females on the couch.   In his blurry vision, he saw Mrs. Marsh blanch, then he heard Ruth gasp and saw her cover her open mouth.  They both seemed to be staring at something below his belt line, so he looked down at himself, trying to understand their problem.  It took a moment for his eyes to focus on the head of his protruding penis.

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Marsh mumbled as she processed the sight before her eyes.  The fly of Tim’s underpants, the part that was supposed to conceal his manly endowment, was instead framing it!  And as Mrs. Marsh remembered from the first time she had spanked Tim, he was well endowed indeed!  Tim’s partial tumescence certainly added to the spectacle.

Except for that long-ago voyeurism while Tim was absorbing his first spanking from her mother, this was the first time that Ruth had actually laid eyes on Tim’s manhood.  Oh she had touched it enough to know what to expect, but still she found the sight impressive, even a bit intimidating. 

Tim covered himself and started to apologize, but Mrs. Marsh had recovered just in time to stop him.  “Don’t worry Tim.  It’s my fault for not asking enough questions.”

“However,” she continued, “I had planned on a much more modest procedure, but this gives us an opportunity to simplify things.  Since we have accidentally become familiar with your male anatomy, please go ahead and remove those shorts.  After all, the damage is done.”

So reluctantly, Tim obeyed.  Having bared himself though, he was quick to crawl up on the couch and lay himself over his future mother-in-law’s lap where his private parts were again hidden.  Since Ruth was sitting to her mother’s left, that gave him an opportunity to kiss her.  They kissed once, and then kissed again, before Mrs. Marsh cleared her throat meaningfully.  Tim settled into place, his face pressed into the couch, his hands in Ruth’s lap.

Ruth took in this unaccustomed view of her intended husband.  His firm white bottom was elevated right over her mother’s right knee, in the perfect position for punishment.  She actually felt a little pang of jealously, wishing she could change places with her mother.  But that led to a totally new line of thinking for her!  From childhood, she had taken it for granted that her eventual husband would own spanking rights over her.  But could it also work the other way around?  That thought gave Ruth had a new bedtime fantasy to play out in her mind, but first she must help with Tim’s spanking.  She squeezed his hands gently to show her love and concern, but then firmly grasped his wrists.  She was determined to do him the favor of restraining his hands, just as he had done for her .   

As she had done with Ruth, Mrs. Marsh took a moment to remind Tim of the reason for his punishment, then she started with her usual “three layer” spanking technique.

That first “layer” of spanks was identical to what Ruth had received just a few minutes earlier.  Mrs. Marsh took plenty of time to pepper Tim’s entire spankable territory to a uniform pink.  Except for the normal squirming, Tim was able to maintain a semblance of dignity during this first part of his spanking. 

With that part of the job done, Mrs. Marsh paused as usual to recover her breath.  Before she started again, she gave Tim a bit of advice, “You WILL cry before this spanking is over Tim, so there’s no point in resisting it.  Don’t worry what Ruth thinks about that, she has very recent first-hand knowledge of what you are going through, and I know she loves you.  Understand?”

Muffled by the cushions she heard Tim’s voice, “Yes Ma’am”.

As he spoke, Ruth reached out to caress the back of Tim’s head.   

Mrs. Marsh warned Ruth, “Hold Tim’s wrists tightly Honey, this is where his spanking starts to get serious.” 

And then Mrs. Marsh raised her hand high to start Tim’s second “layer” of spanks, only this time she deviated from the script by unexpectedly delivering ten hard and fast spanks to each of Tim’s nether cheeks.  These were calculated to push the tough young man over an emotional precipice.  Judging from his energetic kicks and then the gasp, followed by a distinct sob, it was very effective!

As the lady leisurely spanked her way down Tim’s bottom, lingered at his sit spots, and then continued down to his thighs, Tim gradually became louder and louder, and his kicks and squirms became increasingly urgent.  It was all Ruth could do to restrain his hands, which wanted desperately to reach back to protect his livid and stinging bottom.  As Tim’s legs kicked and scissored, he created opportunities for Mrs. Marsh to land spanks on the virgin territory of his inner thighs, much to Tim’s pain.  The lady seldom missed one of those opportunities, although she was always careful to avoid his scrotum.

Ruth kept busy restraining Tim’s hands, but her mind was in turmoil.  She felt great empathy for her lover.  Better than anyone else in the world, she knew what he was going through.  But Ruth was also young, human, and full of hormones!  The sight of Tim’s bouncing, roiling, flattening, writhing, wriggling, reddening bottom had a predictable effect on her.  With guilt, she felt a familiar tingling in her most personal place.  Unfortunately, she wouldn’t be able to do anything about that until she was alone in bed.  For years to come, she would mentally replay this sight whenever she desired a private thrill.  That memory would always have the desired effect on her.   
Finally the second “layer” of Tim’s spanking was done.  By now, both Tim and Mrs. Marsh were breathing hard from their exertions.  

There was the usual pause, which Mrs. Marsh used to remind Tim of why he was being punished and what he should do to avoid future sessions across her lap.  Then, in a voice that managed to be both kind and firm, she explained a slight change from her usual procedure, “You’re stronger than Ruth, so I will reposition you before I start with the hairbrush.  But first, I will finish hand spanking your lower area. 

When Sara saw her mother raise her hand high for the first spank, her grip on Tim’s wrists tightened.  Tim wailed as his thighs and upper legs exploded in stinging pain.  Before it was over, he tore his right wrist free from Ruth’s grip.  But it was for naught.  His arm wasn’t long enough to reach the area where Mrs. Marsh was spanking at the moment, so that errant hand simply waved ineffectually.     

When she had completed spanking his thighs and upper legs, Mrs. Marsh stopped to reposition Tim for the final, and worst, part of his spanking.  She trapped his legs with one of hers, and encouraged Tim to slide his arms under Ruth’s legs so that her weight would hold them safely immobile. 

Then, without further ceremony, she picked up the hairbrush and went to work!  As usual, she didn’t prolong this part.  Alternating buttocks, she peppered his bottom with hard blows, blows intended to brand his bottom and leave him sitting uncomfortably for the next few days.  Poor Tim howled, but his strength was flagging.  When his buttocks were branded to her satisfaction, the lady turned her attentions to his sit spots.

Finally it was over.  Mrs. Marsh held the bawling boy in place, waiting for him to regain some semblance of sanity.  As he cried out his pain, both mother and daughter tried to calm him.  Finally he calmed enough for Mrs. Marsh to tap Ruth on the shoulder and point towards the jar of cream.

“Why don’t you return the favor Ruth?”   Hesitantly at first, Ruth opened the jar, and then she turned her full attention to her boyfriend’s livid bottom.  She dipped her fingers in the jar and gently applied the creme.  When Tim felt the soothing effects of the cream, he quickly quieted. 

After a few moments of Ruth’s tender care, Tim was calm enough to be allowed on his feet.  As he rubbed his bottom and danced, his male parts did a dance all of their own before Ruth’s wide eyes.

Mrs. Marsh picked up Tim’s underpants, deftly fastened the three snaps on the fly, and then helped Tim pull them on, restoring his modesty.  That done, she wrapped her arms around him, favoring him with a long, comforting, forgiving,  motherly hug.    


The punishments over, Mrs. Marsh had a short talk with the couple, reinforcing her lesson for the evening, and stressing that both of them were now forgiven and back in her good graces.  Given the high level of both Ruth’s and Tim’s emotions, she decided not to allow them any more “bedroom time” that evening.  Instead, she discreetly left the living room, allowing the couple a bit of semi-privacy to comfort each other.  Soon it was time for Tim to leave for home.  Given his sore bottom and his unrequited arousal, his walk that evening was particularly uncomfortable.

Each alone in bed that night, both Ruth and Tim relived each others spankings, whilst relieving their sexual tensions in the time-honored manner.  

Ruth, in particular, remembered the feel of Tim’s hot bottom as she had applied the soothing cream to it.  Before she drifted off to sleep, her orgasm-satiated mind also drifted.  It was something that had occurred to her earlier that night.  Naturally, Ruth knew what happens to misbehaving wives.  But as she recalled the sight and feel of Tim’s hot bottom she wondered:

“What happens when husbands misbehave?”

© Guyspencer 2014