A Disciplinary Picnic
A
Disciplinary Picnic
Ever since Tom Birch had married Beverly, the town's female Deputy,
he had been the envy of every man in the little Texas town of
Independence. Most men were at least secretly intimidated by the
tall, buxom, blond, brash, manly-dressed woman. As such, they would
hardly consider her a reasonable prospect for a wife or lover. But
Tom had seen in her exactly what he had always secretly craved in a
woman.
Since his marriage, Tom had worn the happy & bemused look of a
sex-satiated husband who was perpetually smitten with his woman.
Thus, becoming the envy of the town's males.
That Tom preferred to have a “take charge” woman in his life
didn't mean that he was any less masculine. Actually, he was “all
man”, whilst she was “all woman”. It's just that they mutually
preferred for her to be the dominant partner. Because they both
liked that arrangement, their marriage would be long and happy.
-------------------------
It was Friday evening at the Birch residence. Every male in town
would have given serious money to peek inside their bedroom that
evening. The full-figured Deputy Beverly Birch was naked and
squirming across her husband's lap as he spanked her shapely and
surprisingly firm bottom to a bright pink. But this was no
disciplinary spanking, and Beverly's squirm was motivated more by
arousal than by the sting in her bottom. This spanking, and the
play-acting that had preceded it, had Beverly literally vibrating
with desire.
At first townsfolk didn't know what to make of this large woman who
wore manly-looking police uniforms. In the 1920's, woman law
officers were virtually unheard of, especially in Texas. Because of
her job as a full-fledged deputy for the town of Independence, her
brash personality, and her manly walk, many folk initially assumed
that Beverly was one of “those” women. But tonight, if you
could have seen that pink-bottomed woman tear the clothing off of her
husband, push him back on the bed, and then impale herself on his
so-willing male organ, you wouldn’t doubt her heterosexuality.
The couple's evening had started with a home-cooked meal.
Afterwards, over a pleasant two hours of simple togetherness, Beverly
had become increasingly squirmy. To Tom's delight, she finally
suggested a “play acting” session. After brief negotiation, Tom
assumed the character of a strict schoolmaster whilst Beverly
regressed into a misbehaving barely-teenaged student. After a
suitable dressing down, the “strict schoolmaster” ordered the
“student” to strip for punishment. Suddenly contrite, she begged
for mercy, promising eternal perfect behavior. Failing in her plea,
she begged to at least retain her undies. Through it all, the
“schoolmaster” remained firm and pretended professional
detachment as his favorite woman mock-reluctantly stripped. Finally,
after one last scolding, he took her across his lap to belabor her
gorgeous bottom.
After that arousing spanking, and after the subsequent gymnastic sex,
the couple spooned in bed. With Tom's half-erect penis gloriously
nestled against the warm and silky flesh of her nether divide, the
couple drifted off into a contented and mutually exhausted sleep.
But the loving wasn't over for the evening. Sometime in the wee
hours, Tom gently kissed Beverly awake. One thing led to another,
and then it was Tom's turn on top. This second session was slower,
more loving, and deeply satisfying. Still entwined and with Tom
still inside her, they fell profoundly asleep. That's as close as
two people can possibly get!
Even though Tom and Deputy Beverly Birch are a happy and close
couple, they aren't equals. Beverly is the master of both their
relationship and their household. Regardless of the above-described
spanking, Tom spends far more time over Beverly's lap than she spends
over his. Although they keep their arrangement quiet, and they
publicly pretend that Tom is dominant, both actually prefer for
Beverly to be in charge.
Yes, Beverly sometimes allows (even orders) Tom to spank her, but
those spankings are normally little more than foreplay. On the other
hand, whenever Beverly is unhappy with Tom, he goes bare-bottom over
her lap for a true disciplinary experience. It may seem like a
one-sided arrangement, but it's one that deeply pleases them both.
At least, usually it pleases them both…
But this weekend was an exception!
You might imagine that the Friday night orgasmic encounter described
above was the start of a perfect weekend for Tom Birch, but you would
be wrong. Oh yes, Tom enjoyed every minute of that evening, but
something was hanging over his head that put a definite damper on the
weekend for him. You see, Tom was in trouble, big trouble, and his
main punishment was scheduled for Saturday afternoon.
-------------------------
It all started at last Wednesday night's barn dance. In little
Independence, evening entertainment was sparse. The town's only
regular evening activities were the saloon, the Wednesday barn dance,
and Sunday evening church. While both Tom and Beverly enjoyed the
occasional drink in the saloon, they weren't regulars there. Like
most Independence citizens, they were church members. And like most
townfolk, they rarely missed a Wednesday night barn dance.
This particular Wednesday night however, Tom had drank a bit much.
Beverly had warned him, but he hadn't listened. Before Beverly
finally discreetly dragged him out of there, Tom had started to get
embarrassingly loud. Far worse, he had gotten overly familiar with
the Parson's daughter!
So that night Beverly took him home and not-too-tenderly put him to
bed. The next evening, a very contrite Tom put his naked body across
his wife's lap for a brisk application of a hairbrush. Said
application continued until she had extracted genuine tears from her
man. That might have been sufficient punishment had this been the
first time that Tom had drank too much and had started to spin out of
control. But since it wasn't, and because Beverly deemed it time to
make a definite point, she also sentenced Tom to a thrashing,
something that had only happened twice before in their relationship.
-------------------------
Saturday morning, the couple lingered in bed until sunlight streamed
into the window, making sleep impossible. As they dressed, all was
normal except that Beverly specified a certain belt for him to wear.
Tom cooked breakfast, which they ate leisurely. Watching the loving
couple sit so close together, you would never guess what was on
today's agenda for them.
After breakfast, Beverly sent Tom out to prepare the wagon and to
hitch up the horse. As he did that, she prepared a picnic basket.
Tom pulled their light buckboard from a shed, and then spread their
picnic blanket in the rear. He fed and watered their two horses
before leading Bossie, their harness horse, towards the wagon. As
usual, Bossie was reluctant to leave her stall, as she could see the
waiting wagon. With a bit of urging she allowed herself to be
harnessed and hooked to the wagon. Tom didn't blame the horse, he
harbored his own mixed emotions about today's picnic.
As usual for a casual off-duty day, Beverly wore a simple dress. Her
only nod towards her usual manly outfit was a light gun belt. This
she didn't actually wear, but stashed under the wagon seat. She
tossed the picnic basket in the wagon, climbed into the seat, and
motioned for Tom to follow.
He regarded her with pain in his eyes, “South branch?”
She nodded. Acquiescing, Tom took the reins and clucked at Bossie.
Reluctantly, Bossie drew the wagon out of the yard and allowed Tom to
turn her towards the south. They passed through town, and then
continued down the road. As soon as there was nobody to see, Tom
automatically handed the reins over to Beverly.
“South branch” was one of several shady picnic hideaways the
couple frequented, but this one had a feature that would prove
especially useful today, a fallen tree. By mutual agreement, Tom and
Beverly wouldn’t let Tom's pending punishment totally ruin their
day together. They sat so close that their shoulders rubbed. Their
conversation was forced at first, but gradually became amiable. By
the time they came to a certain bend in the road about five miles
from town, they were kissing and necking. They turned Bossie onto a
barely noticeable track that cut directly across prairie grass.
Now that the horse guessed their destination, she perked up. Bossie
liked South branch! However, at least today, Tom was more ambivalent
about the place.
Even though the track they were following was barely visible in
places, Bossie know exactly where to go. In 1920 the Model T and
similar cars were becoming more common, but Tom had no desire to own
one. You had to steer a car! But once she figured out where she was
going, Bossie steered herself. Besides, cars were stinky and
unreliable. You could depend on a horse!
Now that there was no chance of meeting another wagon, Beverly tied
off the reins and gave Bossie her head. Heady with love and arousal,
the couple crawled into the back of the wagon to lay on the blanket.
Soon his pants were at half mast and her dress hem resided well above
her waistline. Neither had bothered with underwear. As they hugged,
kissed and stimulated each other, they luxuriated in the rocking of
the wagon, the sight of puffy clouds rolling overhead, and their
mutual love.
When Bossie got the first sniff of the South Branch river, she tossed
her head and quickened her pace. By then, Tom had fingered Beverly
to climax. Beverly had reciprocated by bringing Tom close to the
edge, but deliberately saved his vitality for later play. Feeling
the wagon speed up, they knew they were close. So they reluctantly
put their clothing back into order and climbed back up into the seat.
Bossie brought them to a certain copse of trees near the riverbank
and stopped. She turned her head, regarding her humans expectantly.
Tom jumped down and unhooked the horse, which trotted directly to the
river, there to wade and deeply drink.
While the horse waded contentedly in the refreshing water, Tom and
Beverly spread out the blanket in the shade, opened their picnic
basket, and spread out their lunch. Before eating, Tom put out
Bossie's food bucket. She munched the grain appreciatively.
Trying to pretend all was normal, the couple sat to lunch. As they
ate, each would occasionally glance towards that fallen tree. But
then they would quickly glance back, grimly trying to banish the
thought that it evoked.
After lunch, they napped on the blanket while they digested their
food. Eventually they awoke and then undressed each other. The tall
grass under the blanket made for a lumpy bed, but neither of them
noticed as their snuggling morphed into vigorous lovemaking.
Afterwards, satiated and still entwined, they shared a short nap.
Finally, Beverly stirred, stretched her impressive body, and then
stood to don her dress. Tom silently watched her dress, his heart
pounding. That was the moment when a lesser man might have whined or
begged for a second chance, but not Tom.
Still naked, he stood. Without being told, he lifted the blanket,
folded it in half, and then laid across the trunk of that fallen
tree. The base of the tree was thick and was supported fairly high
on its root ball, but the far end was skinny and on the ground. He
selected the waist-high center of the trunk for the blanket.
-------------------------
It so happened that Tom was married to arguably the most experienced
female disciplinarian in Texas. As the town's Deputy, it was
Beverly's weekly duty to publicly thrash one or more prisoners on a
platform in the Independence town square. These prisoners were
overwhelmingly male, but the town didn't shrink from doing the same
to females. Although it would happen in private, Tom would receive
that same treatment that she dished out to prisoners. It would be
private because Beverly had no desire to publicly humiliate her
husband, nor would Tom have allowed it.
Some would think it unmanly for Tom to submit to his wife this way,
but the opposite was true. Few men had the honesty to look their own
misbehavior in the face, and then agree to receive their deserved
punishment. Certainly few men were manly enough to voluntarily
accept a thrashing from the famed Deputy Beverly Birch! But Tom was.
So even though he preferred for his wife to be the dominant partner,
Tom was a real man!
Part of the town's punishment procedure was to “empty” male
prisoners shortly they were marched naked to the square for
punishment. This virtually eliminated the incidence of public
erections, whilst ensuring that prisoners received no sexual
gratification from their punishment. Beverly took each man into the
bathroom to do this. Her procedure was quick, dispassionate and
clinical. Still, no man had yet complained!
For similar reasons, Beverly always ensured that Tom had an orgasm
shortly before he was punished, but the procedure was far different
than what she used for the prisoners! In fact, it was far more
pleasurable for them both, and had become an important rite for them.
This pre-punishment sex was a sort of “cleansing ritual”, a way
for them to assure each other of their love and to demonstrate that
there were no hard feelings on either side.
-------------------------
His pillory prepared, Tom went to his discarded clothing and
extracted his belt from his pants. Respectfully, he handed it over
to Beverly.
Then came the part that Tom feared the worse, “the conversation”.
Beverly didn't lecture her man. This was better described as a
“guided discussion”. She asked Tom leading questions and
demanded complete and honest answers. She took her time, leaving no
issue uncovered, and never accepting vague or easy answers. They not
only discussed his most recent misbehavior, but also previous
episodes. They agreed on what he had done wrong, and how he should
act in the future. Also, reluctantly, Tom agreed to a two-drink
daily limit.
So finally it was time for Tom's punishment. Resorting to her usual
Punishment Day procedure, Beverly asked “With or without?”. By
that she meant “Do you wish to have your thrashing with or without
a warm-up spanking?” Tom and tried it “without” once, and had
learned the hard way, so they both knew what his answer would be,
“Please Ma-am, I would like it 'with'.”
So Beverly took her naked husband by the hand and led him to the
fallen tree. She chose an appropriate place to sit, and then Tom
automatically placed himself across her lap. The spanking started
without further ceremony. With or without this warmup spanking,
Beverly would deliver the same thrashing. But just because this
spanking didn't really count as part of Tom's punishment, didn't mean
that it didn't hurt or that it was easy for Tom to take. Tom
squirmed, kicked and gasped in pain as his wife spanked his buns and
thighs to a bright pink patina.
Near the end, Beverly ordered, “Spread them”. By now, Tom was
hurting but still dry-eyed. Tom had mixed emotions, he hated this
part of a spanking, yet his inner thighs were fair game for the belt
and therefore required preparation. With a groan he complied,
spreading his legs uncomfortably apart. As Beverly professionally
spanked those inner thighs pink, Tom fought the urge to snap his legs
closed. By the time she had finished with that area, his eyes
dripped his first tears.
Beverly noted those tears, and decided that it would be best to push
him over the emotional edge. Thus, she delivered a final flurry of
full-strength spanks to the fullest part of his bottom. Tom wailed
and tried to twist as he absorbed those last few spanks.
Not wasting time, she took her sobbing man by the shoulder to help
him up, and then led him the two steps to the waiting blanket-covered
tree trunk. “You know the position Honey,” she ordered. “Legs
wide apart. I know you don't want to be restrained, so try to hold
position, OK?”
Tom nodded meekly and then assumed the proper position, spreadeagled
and with his bottom prominent.
Beverly didn't fold the belt. Instead she wrapped it twice around
her hand so that it left a single tail of manageable length. She
took a stance to his left, measured the leather against his pink
bottom, raised it high and then let fly. The leather slammed across
the fullest part of his waiting buns, and then the supersonic tip
wrapped around to dig malevolently into his right thigh. Tom had
steeled himself, but couldn't avoid a scream.
-------------------------
That scream is why Tom and Beverly had traveled way out onto the
prairie that day. The townsfolk would never understand the couple's
relationship, so the couple kept those intimate details private.
Their house was on the edge of town and was tightly built, giving
them sufficient privacy to conceal a normal spanking, but a thrashing
was an entirely different thing! For that, they needed more privacy
than could be found anywhere within the town limits of Independence,
Texas. So that's why they were out at this place they called “South
Branch” today. In their courting days, Tom and Beverly had found a
few remote picnic areas that they had used for privacy. Even after
their marriage, they used those places to escape town to find true
togetherness. South Branch just happened to be the only one of them
with a convenient fallen tree. Today wasn't the first time that tree
had found a disciplinary purpose, and it wasn't likely the last.
-------------------------
In Beverly's experienced and talented hands, each fall of that belt
seemed to do double duty. The length of the leather would make a
wide welt, but then that nasty tip would painfully bury itself into
whatever nook or cranny of Tom's anatomy she had targeted.
Her second swat was a perfect example. Although the first swat had
cut across both to Tom's firm mounds, she varied the second swat by
stepping back a few inches so that the leather only cut halfway
across his trembling bottom. Thus the leather welted only his left
buttock, but that wicked and versatile tip painfully grazed the inner
curve of his right mound before spending the rest of its energy
placing a long-lasting little bruise inside his nether cleft. In
spite of himself, Tom screeched!
Expertly, patiently and thoroughly Beverly proceeded to deliver a
thrashing to her husband that was the equal to what she regularly
gave prisoners in the public square. To ensure that she didn't miss
the tiniest spot, she swapped sides several times, having good aim
with either hand.
Because he wasn't tied down, she had to pause occasionally to correct
his position. As long as he was trying hard to cooperate, she didn't
access penalty strokes. Instead, she believed that the prolonging of
his punishment was penalty enough. It was especially hard for him to
keep his legs apart so that the strap could visit his inner thighs.
Here, Beverly was especially careful to miss her husband's dangling
manhood.
Taking full advantage of their wild and remote site, Tom made no
attempt to stay silent. His wails could probably carried for a mile,
but there was no reasonable possibility that anyone would hear.
Bossie twitched her ears at the din, but was accustomed to the
strange games that her humans sometimes played. She assumed (with
some accuracy) that this was human mating behavior. Tomorrow, Tom's
throat would hurt almost as much as his bottom.
Just as Beverly knew how to properly thrash a prisoner, she also knew
when to stop. She knew how to make a bottom uncomfortable for
several days, without causing any lasting injury. So at the proper
time, she laid the belt on the tree trunk next to her squalling
husband and then knelt to comfort him. After embracing him until he
came to his senses, she helped him to his feet, and then released him
to dance and rub to his heart's content.
When his tears finally slowed, they shared a long embrace and a few
mutually forgiving words. When her man finally seemed somewhat
recovered, Beverly hitched Bossie to the wagon, spread the blanket in
the rear, and helped her still-naked husband into the rear, where he
laid face-down. When she was sure that Bossie was on the correct
trail, she tied the reins and crawled into the back to cuddle with
him.
Only when they neared the main road did they stop long enough for Tom
to painfully dress himself. As they neared the town he painfully
eased himself into the seat to maintain appearances by pretending to
drive. He even waved at a few folks as they drove through town
towards the sanctuary of their home.
-------------------------
Tom had the rest of the weekend to recover. On Sunday morning that
hard pew was too much for him to face, so Beverly went to church
without him. When asked, she honestly claimed that Tom was feeling
“a bit under the weather”.
Monday he discreetly used a cushion at his desk in the bank office.
More importantly, that punishment ended Tom's drinking problems.
Obediently, Tom adhered to that two-drink limit for the rest of his
life as he and Beverly happily grew old together.
2 Comments:
There's a part in the middle of the story where Beverly's name is suddenly changed to Barbara, and then back to Beverly. Please pay attention to that.
Otherwise, I really enjoyed this story!
Great story
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