Belated thanks for this Darcy. I imagine that this girl, Sally, is a reluctant enrolee in the village swap club, coordinated by the good reverend. Her stepfather brought her round to the vicarage the previous evening ready to be passed on to the burly Harold Miggins the next morning. The reverend does like to have a girl stay overnight so that he can keep an eye on the welfare of his swap club recruits; time to deliver counselling, while probing them for details of the disciplinary whims and penchants of the gentlemen members both as guardians of their own girls and ‘in loco parentis’ for visiting swapsies. “24 strokes eh? Yes my girl, no doubt a very painful punishment but by no means unusual”. “A video camera you say? I’m sure your uncle merely wishes to keep a record of your thrashings as a means to review their effectiveness and ensure consistency. I commend him for his dedication.” “Exercises in your PE kit? Then into the shower and strapped dry afterwards? Healthy body, healthy mind young miss. Cleanliness next to Godliness.” “Bottom up, knees apart and chest down on the bed for your tawsing? Absolutely normal young lady. A most accessible position favoured in many homes. Oh, right… with stinging nettles under your breasts and a hot water bottle under your tummy. Well, he has always been, shall we say, innovative with your punishments. And that will certainly perk you up, eh what?”
Sally had already been through a similar interrogation the previous night. The reverend’s lust had been inflamed by her disclosure of a certain addition to her stepdad’s regime, to the extent that the clergyman had been tempted to give the girl a good caning merely to relieve his arousal. Bowls of water, one ice cold, the other just off scalding, were involved, and the reverend had taken note to spread the word about this ingenious punishment amongst those members who had charge of suitably endowed candidates.
Sadly, most members preferred their young visitors to arrive with bottoms as unblemished as was feasible (a completely clean canvas was uncommon given the frequency of home punishments). Accordingly, the reverend had contented himself with the usual prayer as Sally knelt before him to give thanks for his counselling and receive the Holy benediction, with a certain amount of coughing and spluttering.
The next morning Sally had been distressed to find that it was the loathsome Harold Miggins who had come to take delivery of his pretty package. She had been in his ‘care’ twice before, both times afterwards being deemed by the reverend to need temporary removal from the club rotation on account of her extensive weals, by no means confined to her bottom and thighs. The reverend therefore had some sympathy with Sally but he and Harold went back a long way and, besides, rules were rules. Harold’s own two girls were extremely popular amongst the members and would be greatly missed if he were to be excluded from the club.
Sally had pulled back away from the front door, inadvertently pushing her pert young bottom into the reverend’s crotch, doing nothing to diminish the erection which had arisen as he had followed Sally’s wiggling rear along the passage to the front door. “Bit reluctant is she Rev?” Harold rasped with a leer. “We’ll soon see about that. Get her bra off will you and hold her arms behind her. Won’t be the first time I’ve given her a titty whipping.” The reverend unclipped the garment and, with some unnecessary fumbling, peeled it off. But, seeing that Harold was pulling his leather belt from around his waist, discretion took over. He would very much enjoy watching pretty young Sally getting those firm tits strapped but he was also mindful that the three of them were in the open doorway of the vicarage and that the ladies of the Knitting Circle would shortly be passing the front gate heading for the church hall. “Perhaps you’d care to deal with this at home, eh Harold? More privacy and all that. Dose of the strap and then a good, well, you know…”. Harold saw sense, bade his farewells and chivvied Sally up the path to his car with liberal flicks of his belt. His unsupported trousers drooped, emphasising the rigid tent pole of his erection. The reverend, hearing the approaching chatter of the Knitting Circle, made a tactical withdrawal, remembering to pick up Sally’s bra forgotten on the doorstep. Oh well, she wouldn’t be needing it when Harold got her home.
While I don't share in a fetish for punishment of breasts, I find much about these imaginings highly arousing; for example, how the removal of a belt, for putting to use on a girl, causes a chap's trousers to droop around the tent in his crotch, adding to his ungainliness in contrast with the well-formed curves of his tight, lithe prey.
Jolly glad I found your late addition to this thread, Uncle George. It nicely illustrates the inner workings of the 'swap club' at least the way I would like it, with the Reverend taking a keen interest in all club business, ensuring everything is organised down to the finest detail. I like to think he spends quiet afternoons writing up all his findings in the Members' Directory or pasting some new photos into the companion volume Junior Members' Listing. The latter would be shown discretely to prospective members who seem a little reluctant to release their girls into the Club pool. I'm sure the Reverend will often find himself contemplating one of the member's disciplinary preferences and imagining how things might play out with a girl of his choosing, occasionally managing to fix things so that the desired 'match' takes place. Afterwards there would be a session of extended 'counselling' so that the girl can provide a detailed account.
Thanks Darcy. That's an evocative piece, a slim submissive at the mercy of burly friends. The return of the Reverend White?
ReplyDeleteBelated thanks for this Darcy. I imagine that this girl, Sally, is a reluctant enrolee in the village swap club, coordinated by the good reverend. Her stepfather brought her round to the vicarage the previous evening ready to be passed on to the burly Harold Miggins the next morning. The reverend does like to have a girl stay overnight so that he can keep an eye on the welfare of his swap club recruits; time to deliver counselling, while probing them for details of the disciplinary whims and penchants of the gentlemen members both as guardians of their own girls and ‘in loco parentis’ for visiting swapsies. “24 strokes eh? Yes my girl, no doubt a very painful punishment but by no means unusual”. “A video camera you say? I’m sure your uncle merely wishes to keep a record of your thrashings as a means to review their effectiveness and ensure consistency. I commend him for his dedication.” “Exercises in your PE kit? Then into the shower and strapped dry afterwards? Healthy body, healthy mind young miss. Cleanliness next to Godliness.” “Bottom up, knees apart and chest down on the bed for your tawsing? Absolutely normal young lady. A most accessible position favoured in many homes. Oh, right… with stinging nettles under your breasts and a hot water bottle under your tummy. Well, he has always been, shall we say, innovative with your punishments. And that will certainly perk you up, eh what?”
ReplyDeleteSally had already been through a similar interrogation the previous night. The reverend’s lust had been inflamed by her disclosure of a certain addition to her stepdad’s regime, to the extent that the clergyman had been tempted to give the girl a good caning merely to relieve his arousal. Bowls of water, one ice cold, the other just off scalding, were involved, and the reverend had taken note to spread the word about this ingenious punishment amongst those members who had charge of suitably endowed candidates.
Sadly, most members preferred their young visitors to arrive with bottoms as unblemished as was feasible (a completely clean canvas was uncommon given the frequency of home punishments). Accordingly, the reverend had contented himself with the usual prayer as Sally knelt before him to give thanks for his counselling and receive the Holy benediction, with a certain amount of coughing and spluttering.
The next morning Sally had been distressed to find that it was the loathsome Harold Miggins who had come to take delivery of his pretty package. She had been in his ‘care’ twice before, both times afterwards being deemed by the reverend to need temporary removal from the club rotation on account of her extensive weals, by no means confined to her bottom and thighs. The reverend therefore had some sympathy with Sally but he and Harold went back a long way and, besides, rules were rules. Harold’s own two girls were extremely popular amongst the members and would be greatly missed if he were to be excluded from the club.
Continued below
Sally had pulled back away from the front door, inadvertently pushing her pert young bottom into the reverend’s crotch, doing nothing to diminish the erection which had arisen as he had followed Sally’s wiggling rear along the passage to the front door. “Bit reluctant is she Rev?” Harold rasped with a leer. “We’ll soon see about that. Get her bra off will you and hold her arms behind her. Won’t be the first time I’ve given her a titty whipping.” The reverend unclipped the garment and, with some unnecessary fumbling, peeled it off. But, seeing that Harold was pulling his leather belt from around his waist, discretion took over. He would very much enjoy watching pretty young Sally getting those firm tits strapped but he was also mindful that the three of them were in the open doorway of the vicarage and that the ladies of the Knitting Circle would shortly be passing the front gate heading for the church hall. “Perhaps you’d care to deal with this at home, eh Harold? More privacy and all that. Dose of the strap and then a good, well, you know…”. Harold saw sense, bade his farewells and chivvied Sally up the path to his car with liberal flicks of his belt. His unsupported trousers drooped, emphasising the rigid tent pole of his erection. The reverend, hearing the approaching chatter of the Knitting Circle, made a tactical withdrawal, remembering to pick up Sally’s bra forgotten on the doorstep. Oh well, she wouldn’t be needing it when Harold got her home.
ReplyDeleteWhile I don't share in a fetish for punishment of breasts, I find much about these imaginings highly arousing; for example, how the removal of a belt, for putting to use on a girl, causes a chap's trousers to droop around the tent in his crotch, adding to his ungainliness in contrast with the well-formed curves of his tight, lithe prey.
DeleteJolly glad I found your late addition to this thread, Uncle George. It nicely illustrates the inner workings of the 'swap club' at least the way I would like it, with the Reverend taking a keen interest in all club business, ensuring everything is organised down to the finest detail. I like to think he spends quiet afternoons writing up all his findings in the Members' Directory or pasting some new photos into the companion volume Junior Members' Listing. The latter would be shown discretely to prospective members who seem a little reluctant to release their girls into the Club pool. I'm sure the Reverend will often find himself contemplating one of the member's disciplinary preferences and imagining how things might play out with a girl of his choosing, occasionally managing to fix things so that the desired 'match' takes place. Afterwards there would be a session of extended 'counselling' so that the girl can provide a detailed account.
ReplyDelete