On Courting (and Spanking) a Christian Girl, Chapter 8

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                                            On Courting (and Spanking) a Christian Girl

CHAPTER 8 ( Titus )

My bottom hurt for several days after Ruth punished me, but it was a good hurt, a hurt that cleansed away guilty feelings about my drunk driving.  Ruth hadn’t wanted to punish me, but our discussion with the Pastor just a few days earlier about how to deal with a guilty husband was still fresh in her mind.  So she unwillingly obeyed and delivered a credible punishment to my bottom.

I did everything I could to thank her and to make her feel comfortable with her role in my punishment.  However, her attitude quickly deteriorated.  She became bossy, sarcastic and vaguely insulting.  Her eye-rolls were constant, and she seemed to go out of her way to be late for anything we planned.  Three times I tried to talk to her about her behavior, but to no avail. 

Since her bratty behavior started shortly after my punishment, I correctly assumed that it must have something to do with that.  I could have argued with her, or returned her insults in kind, but that’s not my way.  I know that the real Ruth was still there for me to love, and that it was my job to somehow bring that lovable Ruth back.  The problem was, not being married to Ruth, I  lacked the necessary authority to correct her.

Mrs. Marsh, Ruth and I were still having those three-way “meetings” where we discussed our relationship, usually in the Marsh kitchen.  They weren’t as often these days because they alternated with our premarital counseling meetings with the Pastor.  So I decided to bide my time and simply document Ruth’s behavior.   

I was still young and inexperienced with women, but by our next meeting I had figured out that Ruth, consciously or subconsciously, was trying to engineer a spanking for herself.  Years later, I would realize that she was driven by a combination of guilt over causing me pain and her desire to regain the old balance of our relationship.  Regardless of her psychological details, the cure was the same, a spanking.  I had seen her spanked enough times to know that she always responded well to punishment.  I just needed to make it happen.    

Under the circumstances I guessed that she would respond best if I spanked her myself.  But that took Mrs. Marsh’s permission!

I bided my time until our next three-way meeting.  We prayed and then covered the usual stuff, and then I asked to speak.  Very carefully and without emotion, I documented Ruth’s behavior, mentioning specific episodes and describing the times that I had fruitlessly tried to talk to her.  Ruth seemed to arch her back at first, but by the time I finished she was in tears. 

I had Mrs. Marsh on my side immediately, “I was wondering when you were going to do something about this” she said.  “I also noticed her attitude.  What do you propose Tim?”

Ruth picked that moment to try to apologize, but it was far too late for that.

“Mrs. Marsh”, I said in a formal tone, “I’m asking permission to deal with your daughter.  I think a good hand spanking would set her straight.”

She answered quickly, “Just as I gave you permission to have Ruth deal with you as if you and her were married, I now give you permission, just this once, to deal with Ruth as if she were your wife.”

I waited for Ruth to object, but it didn’t happen.  She simply looked at me wide-eyed with a classic “deer in the headlights” look on her face.

“You may bare her for discipline, but you will otherwise obey all of The Rules.”  She gave me a hard look, “In addition to the usual rules, you will absolutely remain zipped until Ruth is safely re-dressed following her punishment.  Emotions can run high after a spanking.  You and Ruth must preserve your purity until your wedding night.  Is that clear?”

With a lump in my throat, I nodded and said “Yes Ma’am”.  Surprisingly, Ruth did the same.

“I will leave you now.  Have a nice long talk.  Get everything hashed out.  And then have a prayer together.  After that, you may give Ruth a good spanking.   Use the living room as you did before.”

As she left she threw over her shoulder, “Ruth, obey your man and learn from this!”

“Yes Ma’am”, Ruth said to her mother’s retreating back.

So we had that talk, and we even had the prayer.  It was good!  When we finished talking, I was convinced that I would shortly have my old Ruth back.  All I needed to do first was spank her!

Unusually, Ruth was wearing a skirt today.  Holding her by the elbow, I walked her into the living room.  I sat in her father’s overstuffed chair, and she automatically stood meekly in front of me.  For the first time in my life, I removed a lady’s skirt.  With her skirt off, I encountered a slip.  This caused unexpected problems because it had straps that went up under her blouse.  There probably was a way to remove that slip without removing her blouse, but I didn’t bother looking for it.  Off came the blouse and then the slip, leaving Ruth dressed only in panties and bra.  For some reason today’s panties were even briefer and wispier than usual.  Not that their wispiness mattered, because I soon helped her out of them.

That left her wearing only the bra.  I had permission to deal with Ruth “as if she were my wife”.  That arguably gave me permission to strip her naked, but I decided to leave that “first” for our wedding night.  So Ruth retained her bra.

Then I stood to embrace my lady.  I pulled her close, letting my hands drift down to cup those two wonderful buttocks that I was about to colorize.  And then I pulled her groin against mine. 

I mumbled into her ear, “I love you sweetheart.”

She squeezed in return, responding “I love you too Tim.”

Reluctantly I released her and then looked into her eyes, “You know I have to make a good job of this, right?”

She nodded sadly, “It’s OK.  I deserve it, so I won’t be mad at you.”

Putting a bit of no-nonsense firmness into my voice, I ordered, “Go out to the dining room and bring us back a chair.  You know where it goes.”

This obviously surprised her.  She had expected that we would use the couch like her mother always did.  But I wanted her to remember that it wasn’t her mother spanking her this time.

She opened her mouth, perhaps to protest, but then seemed to rethink the wisdom of questioning my order.  Finally she turned towards the dining room.  The retreating view of her was simply wonderful!

She returned dragging an armless chair.  She placed in the appointed spot, and then looked at me expectantly.  I sat and then patted my lap.  Gracefully she laid her nearly naked body across my lap.

I adjusted her position a little differently that usual, urging her further forward so that some of her weight was on her arms and her toes dangled in the air.  That put her firm thighs over my right knee, exactly in my prime spanking zone.

I spoke gently, “OK Ruth, here’s the plan.  I’m going to spank you, spank you hard!  After that, we will both forgive each other and then I’ll have my old Ruth back, the Ruth I fell in love with.  Correct?”

From down near the floor I heard Ruth blubber, “Yes Tim.”

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Now Ruth was about to learn that this was to be no ordinary spanking.   In my mind, this was the first “real” spanking that Ruth was to receive from her man.  This spanking had nothing to do with Ruth’s parents, and for the first time was wasn’t being directly supervised by Mrs. Marsh.  To give Ruth a mild spanking would send entirely the wrong message.  I wanted her to remember this!  Still, I intended to deliver this spanking with love and stay well within safe limits.

“Open your thighs wide Ruth, we’re going to start down there.”

She looked up at me with startled eyes, “Whaaat?”

“You heard me Ruth,” I said firmly, “Open your thighs wide and do your very best to keep them open for me until I tell you differently.”

She looked back down at the floor and nodded grimly.  Slowly, unwillingly, she obeyed.  The sight was as delightful as it was intimate!

I still had a lot to learn about women, but I knew from the sight of Ruth’s damp sex, from a special tang to her female scent, and from her constantly moving bottom that I had a very aroused young lady across my lap.  That seemed fair enough to me, since Ruth couldn’t possibly have missed the rock-hard and protruding evidence of my own arousal. 

But still, I wasn’t yet savvy enough to understand that the reason for Ruth’s reluctance to open her thighs was her embarrassment at her aroused condition.

Perhaps it was a selfish thought, but I wondered if the spanking I was about to deliver would kill her ardor for the evening.  I hoped not!  

Regardless, it was time for me to deliver!  

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Using medium-force spanks, spanks what would be especially painful because I deliberately had omitted any “warmup spanks,” I attacked Ruth’s taut white thighs.  Ruth wasted no time on feigned  stoicism.  Almost immediately her stricken voice filled the room, “Oh no! Please! Not there!  Please spank my bottom first!  Nooooo!!!” Then, as her thighs magically morphed to increasingly brilliant shades of red, she lost coherence and dissolved into loud, shrill tears.

Naturally, since I had gone to the trouble of requiring her to keep her thighs parted, I didn’t neglect spanking the tender flesh of her inner thighs.  I know first-hand how much this hurts, because I had so recently enticed Ruth to do much the same to me! 

Despite herself, Ruth struggled some.  I had no particular trouble holding her torso in place, but I had no control over her legs.  I could tell that she was trying hard to keep those delightful thighs open for my attention, but several times they snapped shut and I was forced to remind her to open them.  As always when I spank Ruth, I tried my best to keep my voice firm but not harsh. 

It took me perhaps five minutes to spank her thighs to an even shade of bright red, inside and out. So far, I hadn’t yet touched her bottom, so it was still pure white, unspanked.  By the time I was done with her thighs, she was squealing and crying inconsolably. 

Until she described it to me later, I didn’t understand the depth of her discomfort.  Never before had she felt the contrast between an unspanked bottom and livid, freshly-spanked thighs.  She knew well the feeling of spanked thighs, but always her bottom had been spanked first.  What she felt at that moment was new to her and totally unwelcome!

I paused to allow her to collect herself before I continued.  Finally her cries decayed down to mere groans. 

What she said next, filtered through her tears and runny nose, surprised me: “Honey will you please spank my bottom?  Now?  I can’t stand to have just my thighs burning!”         

It was easy to accommodate her, because that was my plan anyhow!

I shifted her slightly on my lap so that her bottom was presented over my right leg.  Her toes dug into the carpet. 

“Here we go,” I warned.

I spent the next several minutes carefully spanking her twin nether cheeks to a nice even red that perfectly matched her still-livid thighs.  I wasn’t using full strength spanks, but from the start I used firm blows, applied without the usual warm-up treatment.  So from the beginning, she bawled loudly. 

I take this job seriously, and was there to do a good job, but still part of my brain appreciated and recorded the fantastically kinetic sight of Ruth’s roiling, bouncing, twisting, clenching and coloring bottom as it absorbed its well-earned punishment.

Soon this second part of Ruth’s punishment was over.  Again, I waited for her to calm down a bit so we could talk before we proceeded to the last part.  As she sobbed, I rubbed her back and spoke soothingly to her, but I kept my left arm firmly around her waist, a nonverbal way of communicating that this spanking wasn’t over.

Finally she calmed enough for us to have a 2-way conversation. 

“Am I getting through to you Ruth?”

She blubbered her answer, “Yes sir.  I’m sorry Tim, I really am.”

“OK,” I answered, “Then let’s finish your spanking.  After that we’re going to forgive each other and then I’m going to have my sweet woman back ... right?”

“I’m sorry Tim, I really am.  Yes, that sweet Ruth will return for you Tim.  You will see!”

“That’s good,” I said happily, “Really good. Let’s get you repositioned, and then we’ll have your punishment finished in a jiffy.”

From previous experience, Ruth knew that the hardest part of her punishment was imminent, but she cooperated as I slid my right knee from under her and used that leg to pin hers down.  Without being asked, she put her right hand into the small of her back so I could restrain it.

She felt my left arm tighten around her torso and felt that hand tightly grip her wrist, so she knew what was about to happen.  Before I even landed the first spank, she was sobbing loudly again. 

I didn’t give her any special number of spanks, my goal was to quickly spank her already-red buttocks and sit spots almost to the bruising point.  I do this with almost full-strength spanks, so it’s perfectly understandable that poor Ruth almost immediately began shrieking from the sudden explosion of sting and pain to her bottom.  Despite herself, she bucked and struggled as her bottom flattened and jounced from the blows, but I had her pinned so securely that all she accomplished with her antics was to wear herself out.

After only about sixty seconds of hard work, it was almost over.  I inspected my work closely, pronounced it good, and then delivered a few parting medium-strength spanks to her upper thighs.  Then the job was done.  I had delivered my very first unsupervised spanking to my beautiful future wife!  If I say so myself, it was a pretty good job too!  

Naturally, that treatment left Ruth sobbing inconsolably.  We were both a bit winded, me from my exertions, her from her fruitless struggling and her shrieking.  I gently restrained her, keeping her safely across my knee until she came to her senses.  As I waited, I rubbed her back and spoke forgiving words into her ear.  Finally I deemed it safe to help my darling up onto her feet.  Still sobbing and showing no regard for her modesty, she did a brief war dance, and then squatted knees apart while she gently reached back to explore her livid buttocks and thighs. 

Her eyes were still leaking tears, and her vision was likely swimming and distorted, but her eyes finally locked on mine.  I was almost afraid of what would happen next.  Was she angry with me?  With trepidation, I held out my arms.  Instantly she was in them!

Always before I had felt like a third wheel after Ruth’s punishments.  Mrs. Marsh had always been there.  Therefore, Ruth had always gone to her mother for those tender post-spanking moments.  Today there was only me, and I gloried in our tender mutually-forgiving moment.  It must have hurt her some to do so, but Ruth somehow ensconced herself on my lap, her arms tightly around me, her face buried in my chest.  Of course, it wasn’t lost to me that she was still naked except for her bra.  I marveled that my zipper held against the pressure of my arousal.  I was actually in pain, but what a wonderful pain!

The practical Mrs. Marsh gave us ten minutes alone after Ruth’s spanking, and then appeared bearing both a damp washcloth and that familiar jar of creme.   Her eyes widened slightly when she saw her nearly naked daughter in my lap shedding her last few tears into my chest.  She had a rear view of Ruth, who was lewdly straddling me on the chair.  Still, we were breaking no rules.  To my relief, I saw the lady quickly relax.  

Taking charge, Mrs. Marsh washed Ruth’s face and then ordered her back across my lap.  She inspected Ruth’s spanked nether regions, and then flashed me a “thumbs-up”.  It’s been a long time since I have felt so proud of myself!

It was my job/pleasure to gently slather cream on my darling’s bottom.  She purred as the lotion worked its magic.  I urged her thighs open so I could reach the inner spanked regions.  As I
treated that area, my fingers brushed her vulva.  Ruth bucked and her thighs opened up even more! 

Mrs. Marsh didn’t miss that intimate action, but she didn’t immediately object.  Finally she intervened,  “Let’s get Ruth properly dressed so you two can have some private time together.” 

She left the room, giving me an opportunity to fondle the willing Ruth once more.  Mrs. Marsh reappeared moments later with a fresh pair of panties and pajamas.  I helped Ruth back to her feet.  Lovingly, I dressed my woman.

After a suitable warning from Mrs. Marsh to “remember the rules”, we climbed the steps to the sanctity of Ruth’s bedroom.  Both of us were aroused to a fever pitch, so I really wanted to tear those pajamas and panties off and take her right there on her own bed, but we settled for a slightly amplified version of our usual mutual manual release. 

Reluctantly, I left my spanked angel in her bed and departed for my own house and my own solitary bedroom.

Another day in paradise!


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