From the Top Shelf - Heatherton Hall, chapter 2b

Today we continue with Rollin Hand's takeoff on Downton Abbey. You may wish to refresh your memory by reading here how the two young cousins got themselves into a whole heap of trouble at the local pub. It's now the following morningand Josh must deal with them.

“You have a barn?” asked Josh the next morning. His head still hurt, but the swelling around his nose had subsided. Maybe it wasn’t broken after all.

“Yes,” said Gwyneth.

“With some tools and a workspace?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s take a walk.” Josh took Gwyneth by the arm and escorted her out. They crossed the courtyard and made their way toward several outbuildings.

“The barn is this way,” said Gwyneth, leading. “But what are you going to do?”

“You’ll see,” said Josh. By this time, they had reached the barn. Gwyneth led him through a side door into a tack room. Behind the tack room there was a work space with tools hung on the walls. There were power tools as well, which was exactly what Josh was looking for. It was, in fact, a well-equipped work room with a jig saw and a band saw.

“We have men on staff who do repairs when needed, so we have,this work room with tools. It was something my father built. He enjoyed working with his hands,” explained Gwyneth.

“So do I,” said Josh, looking around. He spied a pile of lumber inba corner, just odds and ends. Sifting through it, he found a likely piece. It was a slat, about four inches wide and nearly an inch thick.

Josh took it over to the jig saw and cut it down to fifteen inches. Then he formed one end into a narrow handle. Finding a sander, he smoothed and rounded all the edges. Gwyneth watched with interest. When he was done, Josh held it up. “See?” he said. “Just what I need, the ol’ schoolhouse paddle.”

“I see,” said Gwyneth, beginning to feel positively squirmy at the sight.

Josh tapped it in his palm. “Just the thing for a pair of underage troublemakers. We’re going to do this Texas-style. I made a few trips to the assistant principal’s office myself, so I know what this feels like. This is a lighter version, but it will do, especially since your cousins will not have much in the way of protection.”

Gwyneth listened with interest, and an image of Josh bent over for a paddling popped into her head. Then an image of herself bent over for a paddling from Josh replaced it and she flushed.

Josh noticed. “Is something wrong?”

She waved her hand. “No, no—just a thought.”

“Mmm. Well, let’s go find your cousins.”

Josh strode back to the main house, paddle in hand, Gwyneth following in his wake. A definite itchy excitement was forming in her lower regions at the prospect of what was coming. In the main foyer they were greeted by the butler. “Griggs, will you inform the misses Amanda and Felicity that I’d like to see them in the library?”

“At once, sir. Shall I inform Lady Heatherton as well?”

“Absolutely. She will want to be present. And Griggs ...,” he added.

“Yes, sir.”

“We are not to be disturbed.”

Griggs eyed the paddle in Josh’s hand. “Quite right, sir.”

Lydia entered first. She nodded to Josh and sat in a high-backed chair that Josh thought resembled a throne. Amanda and Felicity came in next. “Shut the door behind you,” said Josh.

They both wore fashionable knee-length dresses, as if about to go shopping, but by now Josh understood that dressing up was part of the culture at the hall. They dressed for meals, for tea— and now for punishment, it seemed.

“Amanda and Felicity,” began Lydia Heatherton, “we invoked tradition on your behalf to keep you from being hauled off to jail and to what would have been, no doubt, a painful and humiliating interlude that would have brought shame and scandal upon the family. But, as with most things in life, ladies, such intercession comes at a price. There is a compact on this island, and that is that Heatherton Hall imposes its own discipline when our rank and privilege are invoked. Mr. Fairchild is now the earl, as you both know. You will obey him, and you will accept whatever correction he chooses to mete out with as much grace and fortitude as you can muster. If not, the constable can be summoned. Do I make myself clear?”

Both girls murmured an affirmative of sorts and shuffled their feet. They avoided eye contact with anyone, least of all Josh. It was a different pair of young women who stood now before the earl and the Heatherton’s. Gone was the sassy devil-may-care attitude. In its place was embarrassment and remorse.

Josh picked up the paddle and tapped it in his palm. “This is an American school paddle, girls. I expect you’ve not seen one of these over here. But I’m pretty familiar with it, so I know what it feels like. This won’t be easy, but, as I understand it, we are all honor-bound to go through with this. So here’s what will happen. Both of you will come up here to the desk,” Josh tapped the paddle on a broad, flat desk that stood in the center of the room, “and bend over, resting your forearms flat on the desk. You will reach back and lift your skirts above your waist. You will hold that position. I’m going to do this in threes. You will each get three swats at a time, alternating. I’ll do this four times, so you are each getting twelve. I understand that twelve is what they would have given you at the police station, so that’s what you get here. When it’s done, you can get up and rub or whatever, but not before. If you do, we’ll have to repeat. Understand?”

Both girls just nodded nervously.

“Okay, let’s get started.” Josh pointed to the desk with the paddle. “As we say back home, assume the position.”

Amanda and Felicity minced forward and bent over the desk, side by side.

“Spread out a little,” said Josh. “I need to stand between you two.” They shuffled sideways. “Okay, ladies, skirts up.” Josh watched with interest as each girl reached back and gingerly tugged her skirt up. Both wore fashionable lace panties under garter belt and hose combinations. Amanda’s panties were like silky step-ins, while Felicity’s were a patterned nylon type with lace borders.Amanda’s bottom was heart-shaped, high set, and prominent; Felicity, who was shorter and more voluptuous boasted a bubble-shaped derriere, a pair of pertly rounded globes that appeared quite capable of absorbing a good paddling.

Josh stepped to Felicity’s side first. He tapped her buttocks with the paddle as if assessing their resiliency. “First three, Felicity. Do not move.” He drew back his arm.

The arm descended with a blur. A loud crack resounded throughout the room. Felicity squealed and rose halfway up, the sting from the paddle being nexpectedly intense.

Crack! “Yow... ahh!” Felicity stamped her feet as the second swat struck.

Crack! “Ah... ah... yah! Shit!” Felicity bobbed up and down. Gwyneth watched in amazement. The three swats had been delivered rapidly, one after another. The paddle had sounded like a gunshot. Felicity’s bottom cheeks had quivered with the impact.

“I’ll not have swearing, Felicity,” said Lydia. “One more outburst, young lady, and you’ll repeat that stroke. Do I make myself clear?”

“Owww! Y-yes, ma’am,” wailed Felicity.

Josh moved over to Amanda, who looked at him over her shoulder, eyes wide, a fearful expression on her face. “Best to look straight ahead, Amanda. I don’t want you to move. Do it—- spot on the wall. Look there.” Amanda turned her head and tensed up. Josh stepped back.

Crack! Whack! Smack! The paddle spanked Amanda’s clenched bottom cheeks three times in swift succession. She howled at each swat, the cries steadily increasing in volume.

“My God! That hurts!” she wailed. It was practically a shout.

“I’ll warn you too, Amanda,” said Lydia. “No swearing.”

Amanda writhed over the desk while Felicity tensed up. Josh was coming back to her side with the paddle. “Three more, Felicity. Hold still.” She gripped the far edge of the desk so hard her knuckles were white.

Josh reared back and delivered three more crisp swats, one right after another.

Felicity flinched and howled at each smack. She stamped her feet and bobbed up and down, making her nether globes jiggle lewdly. Back over to Amanda. The next three had her humping up and down, too, her feet flying up off the floor. The sound of the paddle smacking flesh echoed off the library walls. Gwyneth winced each time the paddle struck. Watching her cousins get it was satisfying, but still, it looked like it stung like blazes.

Both girls stood up, rubbing. They turned around. Tears were flowing.

“It hurts too much,” wailed Amanda.

“You can’t expect us to hold still for that,” said Felicity. She flexed her knees as she rubbed her bottom. “No more.”

“Me either,” said Amanda.

Josh stood there, grimly tapping the paddle in his palm. He looked at Lydia. She said nothing. Gwyneth was silent as well. They are waiting for me to take charge and finish this, he thought. All right, we’ll do this the old fashioned way. There was an armless chair to the side of the desk. It looked sturdy. Josh put the paddle down and dragged the chair over in front of the desk. He sat down and folded his arms.

“Okay, who’s first?” he said.

The two girls stared at him, not comprehending.

“We are going to finish this. You are both getting twelve swats, and since you won’t hold still and take it, you are going over my knee where I will hold you in place. Now who’s first?”

Both Amanda and Felicity started to back up, but Josh shot up and grabbed Amanda’s wrist. He pulled her around to his right and sat back down. She squealed as he unceremoniously dumped her across his knee. Felicity’s hands flew to her face as she looked on in horror. Up came Amanda’s skirt. Josh tucked it under his arm, well up out of the way. He grabbed the paddle from the desk top behind him.

“Wait a minute,” said Lydia. Josh thought that she was going to stop him. Instead she said, “Her drawers should come down. That should be the penalty for not taking her punishment and forcing you to spank her like a child.”

Amanda shrieked, “No-o-o!” But it was too late. Josh whisked her panties down to her knee hollows in one swift movement. She squirmed across his knee, panicked now, her bare bottom on display. Josh calmly informed her that she was getting six more good hard swats.

The smacks were delivered at an even tempo, spaced two or three seconds apart. The steady splat! splat! splat! was accompanied by Amanda’s squeals of distress and her thrashing and bucking across Josh’s lap. When all six had been duly meted out, Josh stood Amanda on her feet and sent her off to the corner with a swat from his hand.

“All right, Felicity. Your turn.” Josh sat back down and gestured for her to approach.

“Please,” she implored. “Not like this.”

“You had your chance to take it like a big girl. Now we do it naughty girl style. Come on.” Josh slapped his thighs.

Timidly, she approached. She looked around. There was no way out. Her bottom was burning already. As soon as she was in range, Josh took her by the waist and guided her across his knee. He adjusted her so that her bottom was angled upward, right at the ceiling. Her skirt came up, revealing her rather prominent fully-fleshed bottom, encased in frilly panties and framed by her garter belt. She groaned with shame as Josh slipped the panties down, baring her. The twin cheeks, now shamefully displayed, were already quite red. That didn’t deter Josh. He picked up the paddle, tapped her once or twice, and then, smack! He delivered the first of six hearty swats that fell with metronomic regularity.

Felicity thrashed around. She squirmed and wriggled as the paddle meted out its stinging message of justice, one carefully administered smack at a time.

Gwyneth’s hand was at her throat as she watched. Felicity writhed and wriggled in uncontrollable reaction to the paddling. Josh’s brow was knit with concentration as he raised the paddle and, with a smooth motion, whipped it down through an arc to impact Felicity’s quivering buttocks with a loud crack! The sound seemed to bounce off the library walls. Felicity shrieked and arched her back. Josh just pushed her back down and lined up for the next smack.

This was definitely a new Josh, and watching him take control and discipline her naughty cousins was sending little quivers of excitement and desire through the young woman’s lower regions. She imagined herself across the husky American’s lap, bottom bared to his gaze, and her knees felt like they might buckle. She caught herself. Whatever am I thinking?

The paddling concluded, Josh helped Felicity up and sent her to an opposite corner. Lady Lydia looked satisfied. “I trust, girls, that there will be no more wild shenanigans in pubs while you are here.” She looked at Josh. “And I have no reservation at all in informing the constable that justice has been duly carried out by our new earl.”

I think Gwyneth is about to leap across Josh's lap. Will she get her turn soon? Come back next week and find out.

Recap: Spanko Brunch 2.0 for April 8

This week we discussed men who act like little boys and women who discipline them accordingly.


Amy: Sorry to hear about the passing of Aunt Kay. I never read her stuff but am thankful to anyone who promotes being able to live authentically in the lifestyle that fits one best. Speaking of, in answer to your question, Eric and I don't switch roles and we've discussed it often but realize it wouldn't work for us. More power to those it does work for though!

Tari Cabbot: I am the same, I never knew her, but would like to celebrate her and her work for making it easier for people who now follow in her footsteps.

Dan: Aunt Kay's Disciplinary Wives Club introduced me to the whole concept of adult spanking for disciplinary purposes. I never met her personally, yet she had a pretty profound impact on my life.

If my wife responded to this question, I don't think she would say she enjoys it when her husband acts childishly, but she does enjoy being able to do something very concrete about it. Personally, I don't think the impetus for me is about wanting to be treated like a naughty little boy, though it probably does have some aspects of that. It's more about being held accountable by someone who has the will and authority to enforce the rules.

Sir Wendel: The misses is not into the whole childish behavior thing and I have never gotten a spanking for being childish. When she has a girl’s night out I will get paddled severely so that I “behave” while she is gone. I will do things that bother her in hopes of getting spanked and usually it works.

Roz: Hi Hermione, I am not familiar with Aunt Kay either, but am grateful for anyone who promotes living a life style right for them. We have playfully and very lightly switched roles on the very odd occasion. However not in a naughty boy type scenario.

Bogey: There are both men and women who can not or will not control their behavior and expect to be punished to atone for their "childish" behavior. Spankings do not correct the behavior as it keeps happening again and again - sometimes on purpose.

I can not understand why anyone would want to live with someone who can not or will not control themselves.

Jackie: Men have sexual desires or needs that we women have been asked to make come true, it is just the nature of things. If the males knew the desires of the female it would surprise them. Today males are marrying males and females marrying females, they must be a reason. So as to a male wanted to be treated like a naughty little boy and the female accepts that, it is between them and does not concern others, each to their own. My husband while dating when asked by me his sexual desires, he finally said spankings, and said sex was not a part when spanked. He dreamed of being spanked by older women, dating he would tell them, most just were not into that, not a problem, if the whole world was the same it would be a boring world. This female really enjoys being called Mommy, there is the need that we females have that “Motherly” desire. So yes Joe my husband does get spankings, yes he will call me Mommy when a spanking is needed. My spankings hurt, just ask him. Our sex life is outstanding, but he admits there are times he wishes to act like a naughty little boy, and at those times I will be his Mommy and spank my naughty little boy. What he does not like the most is when he has earned a spanking and we are not at home. I have spanked him at hotels, once on the side of the road, others could not see, and on a few occasions visiting my Mother a trip to the bedroom, hates that. Afterwards he must stand facing the corner, in the front room or kitchen, bare bottom on display. My mother was shocked at first, but when she gave me this nice large hair brush I knew she understood. So each to their own, don’t judge others, judge yourself.

Anon 1: I’m the one who wrote the topic suggestion. Each of us has some desire, mine is a spanking. It was very hard to share, even when asked and I would tell her, nothing would come of it, so I stopped sharing. I after a time and dating older women, I found them more understanding and a couple of them did spank me. The last woman, older, said I needed to find a woman my age, she knew of such a person. She introduced me to her and also brought up the spankings. We went out the next evening, great dinner, learned about her and shared more of myself. She asked about the spankings and said she understood. We dated, went to bed several times, sex life was great. It was not until I did something childish that she decided a spanking was needed. She explained no sex afterwards, I would address her as Mommy and do as told. That first spanking she lowered my pants and then underpants, scolded me like a child and that spanking hurt like hell. I danced around the room, rubbing, and when told to stop, she smiled and said is this what you want in our relationship and still rubbing said yes. We have been married three years, the spankings are real, really hurt, but is what I need. She has stated that women becomes wives and mothers to their husbands, just a fact, some wives nag, and for her, giving me a spanking is so much better.

Red: We do not believe in spanking children, so none of our spankings are role play or for being childish.

I enjoy being spanked like many people do, and we use this dynamic to make our sex life even better, and to solve small irritations in married life. When spanked, the person has to try their best not to repeat the problem. We now rarely if ever argue, and we have a method to solve problems. A magnificent win win scenario

Katie: So sorry about Aunt Kay. I too did not know of her. Sounds like she did great work for the good of the community.

Rob and I don't switch up roles. I have teased him about once or twice about spanking him. He reminds me that there is only one spanker in this marriage, and he is it! I SO love Love LOVE being his spankee... most of the time. HA!

Windy: I am so sorry about your friend, Hermione.

Within the dynamic of my relationship with Storm (Hubby), if I acted this way, we would consider it bratting, which would be a problem. But, I imagine some like to play in such a way if it works for them.

I have a memory of when I was little of some husbands calling their wives "Mother." Perhaps it was because they had children and the man just got used to calling her that because the kids did. Or maybe it was an old fashioned way of speaking in the 70's.

Whether we realize it or not, we often "mother" our husbands. I mean that in the best light possible. I am not (obviously) Storm's mother, but as his wife I nurture him (almost typed neutered -- wouldn't THAT be a different topic). But, I do not hold authority over him in any way. Quite the reverse.

Yorkie: I never read any of Aunt Kay's material. It is sad when someone so influential, so helpful to a large number of people does pass on.

Both my wife and I are adults and neither one of us need to be corrected or punished by the other nor do we desire to be, especially me and I am the one receiving all our spankings. I want her to do it because it turns me on. I enjoy it.

Additionally she would not want to be married to me if I did desire to be treated like a naughty boy.

Each to their own but it's not for us.

A.J.: I've always had a rough time wrapping my head around "naughty boy/girl" or "Mother/mommy/daddy" scenes or talk.

Worse, when it is done in public by married adults - it makes me squirm (Mike Pence, who looks like he's about to apologize for molesting altar boys, calls his wife "Mother" and that freaks me out plenty.)

In a play scene (which is all we ever do)...? No. Not even there. It just seems...I don't know.

I'm an adult male. I'm not "naughty" like I stole cookies before dinner or left my bike on the sidewalk again. I can be careless, glib, speak out of turn, etc. all of which may earn me the "wait-til-we-get-home eye", but never naughty boy (or girl). After hearing her out - and my expressing regret - there MAY be a spanking, but it is with smiles and not "punishment".

But...that's me/us.

Hermione: I can't add anything personally to the conversation, because I am always on the receiving end, and it's never for punishment or for being naughty. But thank you to everyone who responded. I hope this blog is an open, welcoming place for all those interested in spanking, no matter what the reason.

Spanko Brunch 2.0 #222

Welcome, one and all, to our weekly discussion time. This week we sadly say goodbye to a remarkable woman. Aunt Kay, the originator of the Disciplinary Wives Club, has passed away. Aunt Kay was a remarkable woman, whose blog inspired many men and women to pursue a lifestyle that suited them best. An anonymous reader suggested a topic that I think Aunt Kay would have approved of.

Do women enjoy having a husband or boyfriend who acts childishly and giving him a spanking? Do men wish to be treated as naughty little boys by their wives or girlfriends and is this common?

I know that I have many male readers who can relate to this feeling, and I also hope that there are female readers who understand and who will respond. You can always remain anonymous. I would love to hear from you.

Please leave your response as a comment, and I will publish a summary of our conversation once everyone has had a chance to speak.

You Completed the Caption

KDpierre: Peter Thomas: "A seemingly innocent backyard shower.....but did a heavy bucket and a rotten tree limb lead to disaster? Or was there something more to it? Forensic botanists....."

Leigh: I just love outdoor showers.

Ronnie: Hilda wondered how much longer she would have to shower outside before her new bathroom was ready.

Anon 1: Hilda was very proud of her new outdoor shower, and she was especially pleased that she was able to locate it right next to the pump so she didn’t have to walk very far to fill the bucket. Then, right in the middle of her very first shower, she heard a voice call from behind her. Suddenly realizing she was completely naked, Hilda ducked behind the fence for cover, and upon peeking over the top came face-to-face with the town’s very cute and single sheriff, who inquired why she was showering naked in her front yard where anyone passing by could see. Hilda said she was so excited about being able to shower outside on such a beautiful spring afternoon that she’d gotten caught up in the moment and hadn’t considered that someone might walk by. When the sheriff told Hilda he’d have to give her a ticket for public indecency, she stood up, flaunting her ample curves, and asked if there wasn’t some other way she could pay her debt to society. The sheriff gave her a big grin and said there was. He then stepped over the fence and led Hilda back to her house. Once inside, he took a seat on the sofa and proceeded to deposit a very shocked and dismayed Hilda over his knee. After administering a stinging spanking to Hilda’s wet bottom, he ordered the remorseful miscreant to stand in the corner and told her that the next time he caught her running around naked outside, he would spank her right then and there, and that afterward he would make her stand in the middle of the yard with her red bottom on display so that anyone who came by would know exactly what happens to naughty ladies who break the law. Hilda promised to be a very good girl in the future, at which point the sheriff leaned over, kissed her on the cheek and asked if he could take her to dinner. Hilda, thrilled thrilled beyond words, nodded her acceptance, but as she reached back to soothe her burning buns, wondered how she was going to manage to sit through a meal on her extremely tender bottom.

Windy: If you are impressed with this plumbing set up, wait until you see how I operate this water pump. I've been practicing my kegels.

EsMay: Hilda was especially thankful for the water bucket on this day, that rained down ice cool water from the hose above. To anyone looking, she was just enjoying a daily cleaning, but to the man that had just blistered her bottom, he knew the truth of how her hot skin and burning bottom were needing the relief. He smiled, wondering if anyone would realize that the items on the fence were not hats, that no woman could wear two hats at the same time. Would they realize those were really ice packs she'd used on her tender bottom when she found his attentions to be a bit more than she could handle? Ah, sweet Hilda, he knew they'd be replaying this scene many a days in the future, he would have to permanently find a way to attach the bucket, she'd be needing it often.


Anon 2: Funny how Hilda’s indoor plumbing worked fine, except for the shower. Eventually she realized it had started when neighbor boy Otto had reached a certain age. She was never sure of his vantage point, so Hilda would turn and bend to be sure to show off every curve, hook and cranny.

There would be more games to play in the winter when the weather cooled off. Hilda thought Otto might make a good houseboy. She could teach him a thing or two.

Anon 3: Knowing Hilda’s penchant for nudity, her boyfriend had warned her that if she used the outdoor shower she had better be wearing something, like her bikini … or there would be consequences. As usual, the mischievous and bratty Hilda defied his admonition, so she wasn’t at all surprised when he opened the window and called for her to come back in the house. Hilda refused, knowing full well what fate awaited her inside, until he informed her that she had an audience. Hilda, making sure to turn only her head, glanced over her shoulder and saw a group of about a dozen local boys lined up across the street. How long they had been admiring her wares, she did not know, but she was thankful she had not had any reason to turn around during her shower. Hilda stood frozen, weighing her options, then decided that since she was going to have to face the consequences anyway, her best recourse was to get inside as quickly as possible before she exposed more than her ample backside to the boys’ prying eyes. Hilda took off running, her bouncing bottom drawing whistles, cheers and applause from her admirers, and didn’t slow down until she burst through the door and closed it behind her with a sense of relief that was very short-lived because as soon as she turned and stepped into the living room, she stumbled into her boyfriend’s outstretched arms and was immediately guided her across his waiting lap. Following a stern, and more vociferous than usual lecture, her boyfriend, who knew the only way to get his message through Hilda’s thick head was to vigorously deliver through her supple behind, raised the hairbrush that Hilda had failed to notice he was clutching and brought it down hard on her upturned and still wet bottom. Hilda did her best to temper her reaction to the stinging swats, but the harder and faster her boyfriend rained the hairbrush down on her beleaguered bottom, the louder she squalled, pleaded, and promised to behave, until the resounding smacks and her subsequent cries of pain echoed throughout their small house. Despite her anguish, Hilda took some measure of comfort in knowing that at least the boys across the street were not aware of her current predicament. It was going to be hard enough to show her face in public after the boys spread the word about what they had seen, it would be so much worse if word got out that her boyfriend had spanked her like a naughty little girl. Unfortunately for Hilda, her serenity was shattered when, as she clutched her throbbing posterior and danced across the room to assume her all to familiar post-paddling position in the corner, she noticed that her boyfriend had deliberately left the window open so that in addition to the eyeful to which she had unknowingly treated them earlier, she had unwittingly treated the boys to quite an earful … and quite an education her boyfriend hoped they would remember when it came time for them to deal with their own naughty ladies.

Anon 4: Hilda was convinced she had finally outsmarted her boyfriend. She knew she was in for a sound spanking if he discovered her standing naked under the outdoor showering, but she reasoned that the cold pump water would numb her bottom sufficiently enough that she wouldn’t even feel the sting when her boyfriend applied his firm hand to it. After all, her theory went, since taking a cold shower after a spanking soothed her burning bottom, reversing that procedure would certainly result in a pain-free trip over her boyfriend’s knee. Of course, she mused, she’d kick and squeal like normal, and pretend to have trouble sitting so her boyfriend wouldn’t be any the wiser. It’s a perfect plan, she thought with a smug and satisfied smile as the cool water washed over her face, around her glorious curves, and down her now icy bottom. Later that afternoon, a very rueful Hilda found herself standing naked in the corner while her boyfriend, sporting his own smug and satisfied smile, sat on the sofa enjoying the sight of her rubbing her searing, bouncing, scarlet behind as she hopped from one foot to the other and pondered how her theory had gone so wrong.

Anon 5: Hilda loved her time at the old family cottage out "in the country," as it had been referred to as long as she remembered. She especially enjoyed it with her husband, Cyril, who knew how important discipline was to her. Although there was a perfectly suitable shower indoors, this old-fashioned outdoor shower from days gone by still beckoned to her....especially after Cyril had done his duty and reddened her ample bottom for that silly chatter last night during the visit from Cousin Hermione. At peace, she once again enjoyed the shower she recalled from her youth....but no one had ever treated her quite as nicely as Cyril.

Hermione: This old bucket sure helps to cool off my hot bottom!

Friday FAIL

Grammar has been on my mind lately, and here are some of the groaners I've found.

Happy Friday!

Complete the Caption

Sir Wendel sent me this picture of our Hilda enjoying a summer shower. What is the story behind it?

Complete the caption by leaving a comment, and on Saturday I will publish your submissions.

From the Top Shelf - Heatherton Hall, chapter 2a

Last week I reintroduced the late Rollin Hand's novelette, The Ladies of Heatherton Hall. We will continue today with chapter 2. Since it is quite long, I have had to break it into two installments. Unfortunately, today's installment does not contain any spanking, so skip it if you wish. There is, however, a lovely buildup to what is to come.

“Come with me,” said Gwyneth, a day or so later.

“Where to?” Josh had just come down to breakfast and was rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The incident with the maids was still fresh in his mind, but they seemed to bear him no ill will. In fact, if he encountered either Jane or Millie, they would just smile at him, rather coquettishly, he thought. It was as if, in dispensing discipline, he had helped clear the air and had restored harmony in the household. Curious.

“The dock. The ferry is coming in and my cousins Amanda and Felicity Campion are arriving. They are on holiday and will stay with us for a few weeks. They have been here before and I want them to meet you.”

“Cousins?”

“My mother’s brother married and had two daughters, and every summer they pack them off to somewhere just to get them out of the city— and out of the way. And no wonder. They can be a handful.” She rolled her eyes to emphasize the point. “So let’s be off. Can you drive?”

“Sure,” said Josh. Gwyneth just smiled and tossed him the keys. They made the dock, but barely. After attempting to navigate the narrow roads of Oakton Island while driving on the left side of the road, he was as white as a sheet. “Good God, that was unnerving. You drive on the wrong side of the damn road here!”

“Well, you said you could drive,” said Gwyneth, smiling sweetly, her hand covering a laugh.

Josh muttered something under his breath as Gwyneth took his hand and patted it. “There, there, you’ll get the hang of it — just another adjustment to make as the new Earl of Carlisle.”

Like the last “adjustment”? thought Josh. He sure hadn’t figured on being the lord high dispenser of corporal discipline for a whole household. The incident had been as unnerving as it had been arousing. Oh, sure he had spanked a few bratty girlfriends in his day, but that had been all slap and tickle, a prelude to the action. Still, as he recalled, a few swats on the bottom had often led to some passionate sex later. But this sort of formal punishment was at a different level. He found himself assessing the responsibility, now seemingly thrust upon him. Where would this all go?

His train of thought was interrupted by the arrival of the ferry. The ladies who disembarked were pretty. Amanda was medium height, with long raven-colored hair. Felicity was shorter, an impish-looking cute blonde with freckles. Josh guessed their ages at somewhere around eighteen. Gwyneth had said they were in the sixth form, whatever that meant. They gave Josh the once over, looking him up and down like a prize stallion they might purchase.

“Where did you get this one, Gwynnie?” said Amanda with cool appraisal in her voice. She looked at him over the top of her dark glasses.

“I’ll have you girls know this is the new Earl of Carlisle.”

Gwyneth explained as best she could the odd circumstance that had brought the American to their shores. Then she continued without dropping a beat. “So you’d do well to be on your best behavior for the duration. Let’s have no wild shenanigans like last year.”

“Oh, come on, Gwynnie, we’re here to have fun. Mum and Papa were ever so keen to get rid of us for a spell. Loosen up.” This from the other one, Felicity.

“Yes,” said Amanda. “After boarding school, it’s about time we had a chance to do some serious carousing. Are those boys, Billy and Tom Higgins, still around?”

“Look, girls, I don’t mean to be a spoilsport, but things are a teensy bit tense now, what with all the demonstrators and those real estate clods.” Gwyneth practically spat that one out. “I think you’ll have to keep the carousing down to a mild roar.”

Josh just shook his head. Then he steeled himself for the drive back. About halfway there, after swerving to avoid oncoming cars and nearly crashing into stone fences on the narrow road, he realized that Gwyneth had probably played him on this one. After all, the household had a chauffeur. Why had she tossed him the keys? Obviously to have a little fun with the new guy.

But they made it back, the girls chatting and laughing as though he were no more than a chauffeur, and Josh concentrating for all he was worth, trying to visualize everything in reverse image so he didn’t pull into the wrong lane by mistake. By the time they pulled into Heatherton Hall, Josh was finally getting used to it. The terror had subsided a bit.

Lydia Heatherton received the girls in the parlor. Her mood seemed guarded, and while she welcomed the Campion sisters cordially, there was an underlying sense of trepidation. Or at least it seemed that way to Josh. That feeling was confirmed when she pulled him aside. “You’ll have to watch those two,” she said. “When they are away from mum and dad they have a tendency to get into some naughty scrapes. Because they are family, when they do, that reflects upon Heatherton Hall. Right now is not a good time for raunchy behavior,” she sniffed.

Well, now, what am I supposed to do? Josh heard her, but he sighed to himself. Two girls on holiday here? He wasn’t some sort of nursemaid.

The new earl spent the next several days going over the books and being instructed by Griggs in the ways of manor life appropriate for a man of his new station in life . He met all the staff and resolved to memorize each one’s name. What he realized was that the manor was a business. Tenants worked the land and paid rent to the Hall. He made a mental note that, at some point, he’d have to meet the tenants personally to get a sense of how this was going to work. He still wasn’t sure he was cut out for all of this.

He didn’t see much of Gwyneth. She seemed preoccupied with the developers but, thankfully, no more riots had broken out. He vowed that when he had the time, he’d address that problem. Right now, just learning the ropes was a full time job. He was grateful that things seemed quiet.

The quiet was shattered by Gwyneth. It was a Friday night, late, when she burst through the front door just before Lydia was about to retire.

“We have an emergency!” she declared.

“What on earth?” said Lydia Heatherton. She was halfway up the stairs to her room and had turned to observe an obviously agitated Gwyneth in the foyer, waving her arms.

Josh was in the study and heard the commotion. He emerged in time to hear Gwyneth describe the situation.

“It’s Amanda and Felicity,” she said. “They’re at the Three Bells in Carlisle—Andy Sedgwick just gave me a call to say that they are drunk and dancing on the table and things are getting ugly.” Seeing Josh’s perplexed look she said, “Andy is a tenant. He was in there having a pint and saw them come in with some boys. Things heated up from there.”

“What are they doing there? They are under age. You must be twenty-one on Oakton Island.” This from the family matriarch.

“Yes, Granny, I know. That’s why we have to go get them. The constables could be on the way any minute.”

“Yes, of course. We’ll leave immediately.” There was steely determination in Lydia Heatherton’s voice when she answered. All thought of retiring for the night was gone. This was a mission to save the family honor. “And when I get them home... ooh! Cranston was much too lenient on those girls the last time.”

“What’s going on?” said Josh.

“Come. There is not a minute to lose. Andy will help, but he said it’s shaping up like a brawl between the locals and the construction workers brought in by the developers.” Gwyneth rousted William, the chauffeur. They all piled into the car and made for the Three Bells.

It was a raucous scene inside. A crowd surrounded Amanda and Felicity, who were up on a table, bumping and grinding, as watchers hooted, whistled, and clapped. That the pair was inebriated was obvious. The issue was how to extract the girls before the constables arrived.

“You are going to have to fetch them, Mr. Fairchild. If they are carted off to jail I’ll never hear the end of it from Melinda Campion-—that’s their mother,” the countess added for Josh’s benefit. “Spoiled those girls rotten, I say.”

From what Josh had heard about justice on Oakton Island, his first thought was that maybe being hauled off to the slammer would  serve them right. Something about a matron and her whippy birch rod? But Lydia Heatherton clearly did not want that to happen, so Josh enlisted William and Andy Sedgwick and they waded in. Josh affected his best authoritative pose, head high, hands on hips, and boomed out. “Okay, girls, party’s over. Time to go home.”

Amanda stopped, looked at Josh, and giggled. She grabbed Felicity and pointed at him. “Look, Felicity, it’s none other than the bloomin’ Earl of Carlisle, come to rescue us.”

“We don’t need rescuing, Your Lordship,” shouted Felicity above the din. Then she elbowed Amanda and both girls broke into uncontrollable laughter.

“You’re coming with me, right now,” said Josh, shouting above the noise and trying his best to project authority.

“No!” shouted Amanda. “We’re having too much fun.” And she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Time to wade in, boys,” said Josh. Andy and William nodded and they started forward. But they were met with resistance.

“Whoa, whoa, lads. The girls are just havin’ a bit of fun,” said a particularly enthusiastic patron with a mug in his hand. “Who you think you lads are, anyway?” A trio of patrons formed a wall between them and the girls, blocking their way.

“He’s the new Earl of Carlisle and these girls are in his charge,” said William. “And I’ll trouble you to stand aside.”

“The earl, is it? I never seen one o’ those before. Hey, boys, we got us some royalty here. Better let his highness through.” But they didn’t move.

“He’s not from here,” Andy muttered in Josh’s ear. “Neither are the others. They’re with that construction crew building those houses.”

“The girls are coming with us,” said Josh. But he saw what was developing and things looked ugly. It would be helpful if Amanda and Felicity would cooperate, but they seemed content to stand  there and giggle while Josh attempted to deal with the situation before the police arrived. Josh tried to squeeze between two of the girls’ new defenders, but a guy grabbed his arm. He elbowed the man in the solar plexus.

And all hell broke loose. Fists flew, bottles broke. There was squealing and yelling. Somehow Josh got to Amanda and threw her over his shoulder. Kicking and screaming, she angrily pounded her fists on his back. Her heel flew back and hit Josh in his nose and it started to bleed. A thrown bottle clunked him in the head. Andy grabbed Felicity and hustled her through the melee. By this time islanders and outsiders had gotten into it, and inside the pub, things had escalated into a full-scale brawl. But Josh and his entourage had made their escape. In the distance he could hear the whine of sirens approaching. “Let’s go,” he said, and they managed to cram all seven of them into the car and speed away.

***************************

“Just what did you two think you were doing in that pub?” Lydia Heatherton was furious. They were now back at the manor and the girls were sitting side by side on a couch in the study while their great-aunt railed at them. “Your behavior was atrocious. What would your parents say? Think of the shame you bring on the family acting like that. How did you get into that pub anyway? You are under age on Oakton Island.”

The girls sat there, sullen and pouting. Josh leaned against the desk, a cloth filled with ice pressed to his face. He didn’t think the nose was broken, but he wasn’t sure. His head throbbed where the bottle had hit it. Gwyneth watched the scene with a bemused detachment. A knock on the door interrupted the dowager countess’ tirade. A minute later Griggs ushered the island constables into the study. The badges said “Robinson” and “Pelham.”

“Beggin’ your pardon, Lady Heatherton, but it seems that a couple of your household were implicated in a bit of row this evening. We got orders to take ’em in until we get it all sorted out. There was allegations these girls was under age,” said Robinson, apparently the leader of the team. “The penalty for a minor in possession of alcohol, public drunkenness, lewd behavior, and inciting a riot could be a dozen with the island birch,” he added, looking pointedly at Amanda and Felicity.

That finally got the girls’ attention. “Auntie, please do something. Don’t let them take us to that jail,” pleaded Amanda, now panicked.

Josh mused that in view of the constable’s pronouncement, they were well aware of what could happen in that jail. His mind wandered back to that discussion on the ferry about the matron and the birch rod. The girls had been here before. Surely they had known about the island’s “quaint” custom. That actually seemed appropriate for a pair of underage girls gone wild in a pub.

Lydia Heatherton considered this for a moment, then she spoke. “As you know, constable, tradition holds that Heatherton Hall has imposed discipline on its own when necessary to preserve decorum and decency. In the past the Earl of Carlisle has taken up that duty personally.”

“Beggin’ your pardon, Lady Heatherton, but the earl, rest his soul, is dead,” said Constable Robinson.

“No, he’s not,” said Lydia Heatherton. “Constable, meet Joshua Fairchild, the new Earl of Carlisle.”

For a moment Constable Robinson was silent, assessing the situation. Then he set his lips, nodded to himself and said, “If you and the new earl here can assure me that these ladies will be dealt with, maybe there’s no need to haul them in. Do I have your word?”

Lydia Heatherton glared at her great-nieces and spoke in a voice that left no doubt as to her intent. “You have my word that these two will be dealt with most severely, and you’ll not see this behavior again.” She turned toward Josh. “If the earl agrees, of course.”

Josh eyed Amanda and Felicity, who quailed under his direct gaze. He was angry enough, that was for sure. These little madams needed a good... well, he’d figure out what. “As the earl, and speaking for Heatherton Hall, you have my word, constable,” he said evenly.

“Well, then,” said the constable, “we’d best leave you now to sort things out.” He tipped his hat and Griggs escorted them out.

Josh fixed Amanda and Felicity with a steely gaze. “We’ll deal with this in the morning,” he said. He watched as the two girls were ushered out by Lydia Heatherton, who continued to scold them all the way up the stairs.

“What do you intend to do?” asked Gwyneth. She was intrigued now. This was a different side of Josh Fairchild.

“I have an idea or two.”

Something tells me that his idea will not appeal to Amanda or Felicity in the slightest.