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I started working at the newspaper the next day. Mr. Denner gave me the grand tour. He saw me looking at the object on the wall and he said, "That's the thing my grandfather used for punishment. Around here we call that a Denner."
I smiled and said that the librarian had already enlightened me. He said, "Martha is a veritable font of historical information. Did she tell that I still use it from time to time?"
I answered, "Yes and she seemed to think you might even use it on me if I come in late."
I had a smile that indicated that I thought it was a joke. He wiped my smile away when he said, "I'd hate to do that but don't think I won't. I take punctuality and reliability very seriously. I expect you to be at work when I expect you to be at work. If you are delayed you should call or leave a message. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to start your employment here with a lecture but it's best if you know where I stand on some things. Now, this is the first paper my Grandfather published."
He continued the tour and I asked to see the latest issue. I was impressed by the quality of the whole thing. The Riverton Journal was printed on nice paper and was about half the size of a regular newspaper. It averaged eight pages and came out on Monday and Thursday. All local news with advertisements for the stores in town. As George said, the photos were very clear. There were two on the front page. One was of Maryellen and Larry that was obviously posed but the other showed her stretched out and right after one of the later paddle strokes. She had her back arched and you could see the pained look on her face. Inside there were more pictures. Most of them more of what I would call traditional; coming into the room in her gown, dancing with her new husband, a group shot of the wedding party, standing with their parents, etc. But there was one more of her hanging from the cable and this must have been taken after the paddling. Larry was standing next to her and holding her so sweetly.
I found the page that announced my arrival and was pleased to see photos of me at the wedding in my nice dress.
I asked to see the archive and Mr. Denner said, "Ah, George told you about a few of our past issues. We have work to do today but you can take the back issues home tonight. You should read all of them and not just the two that concern you. It will give you a better feel of the town. Now let's see if you're worth what I'm paying you."
The twinkle in his eyes made me smile. There were things to be filed, accounts to be organized, bills to send out and bills to pay, and a number of phone calls. I wondered why they even needed a newspaper in this town. Most of the calls were people who already knew I was starting at the Journal and wanted to welcome me Riverton.
He took me to lunch at the ever popular diner and chatted about the town, it's history and a few of it's more interesting inhabitants. All without any good explanation of the unstable roads. When we got back to the office he wanted me to review the wedding album he created for Larry and Maryellen. It was a nice leather-bound volume with the same posed picture I saw in the paper on the cover. The first few pages were the bride's entrance, family and wedding party shots. Then I drew in my breath. The rest of it was filled with photos of Maryellen on the cable taken from various angles. Having been there to watch the actual event I could tell that they were in proper sequence. I couldn't imagine keeping an album like that but then again, if I was going to get married it would probably be in this town and I'd be strung up and paddled just as severely.
After supper I sat at the table with past issues of the Journal spread out before me. I recognized a few of the names and faces as I traveled back in time and discovered that Mr. Denner was not an impartial reporter. While it seemed that he didn't alter or omit any of the facts, his opinions came through loud and clear. I found the one that talked about the town council meeting where my invitation was the main subject. It was a nice picture of me but the article identified me as "the shameless woman from the outside world who violated our local laws and received two and a half well-merited spankings during her Community Service." I gathered that my present employer was not on my side during the discussion. The commentary also mentioned that while the council was debating it was Mayor Olsen who argued successfully for the map to be created. It also strongly hinted that the mayor was acting on the orders of his wife. I reminded myself to thank Mrs. Olsen for her support.
It took a while and I think I was purposely delaying when I would get to the one of my first visit. I saw the report of Mark Johnson's time on the cable and maybe this is sexist but a man looks really odd hanging on the cable with nothing but a small loincloth. One thing was the obvious from the look on his face, he was in agony. The pictures inside showed three separate views of him on Reverend Archer's lap and you could see that he was crying like a little boy.
At last I came to the issue I had been anxious and dreading to see. A large picture of me reacting to the fireman's swat filled much of the front page. Even though it was a still picture you could tell I was writhing in response to the pain. The text listed all my transgressions and rather explicitly described my punishment. There was no doubt that the editor felt that I was getting no less than I deserved. He especially seemed to enjoy the fact that I was spanked with the hairbrush but was critical of Mayor Olsen for decreasing his strapping time. That explained his view that the strapping was only a half of a spanking. My fingers were shaking as I opened the paper. Page two had more pictures. All of them humiliating and not one of me at the party afterwards. I found myself getting angry with that old geezer until I remembered seeing some other articles. I flipped back and found what I was looking for. There had been two more culprits who got to serve as examples to the community. One was a young boy in his teens and the other was a married woman. Mr. Denner was equally scathing in his comments about them but no less than a week later he ran a story about the woman where he praised her for organizing a bake sale for the library. My guess was that he used the paper for public chastisement as an addition to the physical portion of the punishment. I guess I should be glad I left town before seeing the one about me.
I read more papers until I couldn't keep my eyes open. My bed was comfortable and I actually enjoyed being able to go right to sleep and sprawl out without bumping into someone.
I got to the Journal office the next morning and there was a large bouquet of flowers on my desk. Mr. Denner came out of his office and before I asked he explained, "This place could use a little bit of decoration. I thought the flowers would brighten it up a bit."
I said I agreed and then he gave me the real reason. "I assume that you read what I wrote about your punishments and the map controversy. I'm against inviting outsiders coming here and was miffed that my opinion at the council meeting was overridden. If it means anything, after I really met you I was glad you were here. As to the article about your Community Service I think you should know . . ."
I interrupted him with a hug. "These are beautiful flowers. Thank you. I know why you write about the Community Services the way you do. And I saw the way you subtly changed your views when you wrote about me at the wedding."
The old fellow blushed and with his typical harrumph, "Well, we can't stand around here all morning. We've got work to do."
He gave my bottom a good slap and headed to his office. I playfully said, "Not bad for an old man. I'll bet you spanked quite a few girls when you were younger."
He turned around. "Watch your mouth little girl. I'm not that old and if you don't get to work you're going to find out that I can still deliver a good spanking."
He leaned closer and whispered, "And Martha Jenkins can tell you that I'm still fully functional for the activities afterwards. When you get tired of the boys you're hanging around with let me know and I'll show you a few things."
I called him a dirty old man and got another swat that made me jump. As I returned to my desk I thought about spankings. The swat he gave me was a good one. I wasn't stinging or anything but I felt it when I sat down. In my old life I'd have him up on Sexual Harassment charges but this was Riverton. I was fond of sex before but never did anything out of the ordinary except try a few unusual positions. The idea of a spanking as foreplay was totally foreign but now I shared the prevailing opinion. It was not only an acceptable practice but a very desirable one.
We were busy since the paper had to be published. By noon it was finished and Mr. Denner took the stacks to where they would be distributed which left me alone. As I took the lunch I packed out of the refrigerator I giggled. I pictured myself taking Mr. Denner's offer seriously and wondered if Martha Jenkins would be jealous. Then I tried to picture the librarian with a red bottom. I was startled out of my musing by a voice behind me. "Put that back. I'm taking you to lunch."
I smiled at Pete who was one of the guys in my new group of friends. "Hi. Sounds like a good idea to me. I'm starting to like Dana's Diner. She's a great cook."
He said, "There's no doubt about that but I've got a basket of food and we're going on a picnic. The weather is beautiful but it can be a bit cool by the lake. Get your coat."
I noticed that he never actually asked me to accompany him but I didn't mind.
The lake was a few miles from town but who knows, tomorrow it may move next door. It wasn't terribly large but was the perfect setting for a spring picnic. This was the first time I was alone with him and we had good conversation with lots of fun. He was a clown of the first order and had a ton of jokes. He got me laughing so hard my sides started to ache. I finally had to beg, "Please stop. Give me a chance to catch my breath."
He immediately saw another use for those words. "Ah, I've heard that before but it's usually from the girl getting spanked. Actually, that's a good idea. How about a quickie. Take your clothes off and bend over. You can stay that way for the next part."
I was getting used to the casual way they talked about sex and spanking and this sort of direct approach didn't surprise me as much as it should have. I looked at my watch and said, "I should be back at the office in fifteen minutes. Do we have time to do that and drive back to town."
He was speechless for a moment. "Sorry, I meant that as a joke. I've used that line a hundred times and you're the first one who didn't laugh."
I shrugged and teased him. "So does that mean you're not going to spank me? It's too cold to take my clothes off but I could take off my panties and lift my dress for you. It will have to be a short spanking so we have time to do the other thing."
He said, "I'm tempted to call your bluff but we don't really have time. I don't know if you've heard about Mr. Denner. He's got this thing about lateness. I don't want to get you in trouble. Do you know what a Denner is?"
I smiled and replied, "I've been told and you're right. We better get going but I want to try one of those quickies someday."
We got to the office with five minutes to spare and he gave me the sweetest kiss as he asked me to go dinner with him on Friday night at the Moving Finger.
I asked what that was and he explained that it was a very nice and romantic restaurant that was usually near the lake. We would find it and enjoy a quiet evening. I agreed and he was just about to leave when my boss walked in. "Well, Hello Pete. How are you doing? I haven't seen you in here for a long time. Not since you had that little problem delivering the papers. Oh well, nothing like a pretty receptionist to bring out the bachelors. Don't take up too much of her time. I'm not paying her to sit and flirt during business hours."
A sly smile accompanied the last of his speech and I smiled back as coyly as I could. He harrumphed and he blushed and said, "Well, Thursdays are slow after we get the paper out so I'm, um, going to the library for the rest of the afternoon. Pete can stay and chat if you like. Close up at four. If any customers call with complaints write them down and take another paper to them when you leave. Oh, I almost forgot. These are for you. You can do whatever you like with them. Bye."
He handed me a large manila envelope and was whistling a tune as he walked out the door.
Pete laughed, "Gee, that's odd. The library is closed on Thursday afternoons."
I put the envelope on the desk. I had a feeling I knew what was in it and wanted to be alone when I looked. I asked Pete what Mr. Denner meant about his little problem.
Pete had been a delivery boy for the Journal and had gotten some complaints from his customers. The first time he got a lecture from Mr. Denner and the second got him a single swat on the bare backside with the slat. A third complaint resulted in the full Denner Minute. He said, "You'd think a minute of spanking wouldn't be too unbearable but not a minute like that. You can't even tell one swat from the next and it's becomes the longest minute of your life. It ranks right up there with a Community Service and I should know."
In anticipation of my question he continued, "Getting a Community Service is a rite of passage for teenage boys. We do something to get in enough trouble and show that we're tough enough to take the punishment."
I said I'd seen a few articles in the papers about boys getting the paddle or the strap and every one of them was obviously crying and carrying on during the whole process. Pete smiled, "I said we wanted to show how tough we were but that's easier said than done. I knew it was really stupid as soon as the strap landed but that doesn't stop them from trying."
I laughed at the foolishness of youth and went back to Mr. Denner and his punishments. "So why would a kid want to be a carrier for the Journal if they know what could happen to them?"
He explained, "Being a carrier for the Journal is an honor. You can't start until you're 12 years old and have to have good grades in school. Mr. Denner buys you a bicycle and gives you a really neat jacket. And the pay is great for a kid. The work isn't hard and it teaches them about responsibility. None of the routes have more than 25 customers so he can give more kids the chance to work for him. They wear their Riverton Journal jackets everywhere and are very proud of them. So the punishment for fourth complaint is the worst. He takes back the jacket and bicycle and fires them."
I asked how he could afford that since I've seen the accounts and the paper doesn't make much money. According to Pete, Mr. Denner is filthy rich. He has a large inheritance from an uncle and the paper is his hobby.
Pete left to go back to his own job at the lumber mill. I sat at my desk and picked up the envelope Mr. Denner gave me. It contained about 50 pictures. All of them were of me during the four Community Services. I was ashamed and humiliated again just seeing myself and remembering how much they hurt. In more than a few of them I had twisted so the loincloth flew out of the way and the part it was supposed to keep private was blatantly exposed. I appreciated the chain between my ankles since I knew I would have been kicking my legs wildly and exposing even more. I was also thankful that the ones he put in the paper weren't this explicit.
Each picture increased my mortification. Watching Maryellen get her wedding paddling only gave me a hint of how I danced and made a complete spectacle of myself. There was some that showed the hairbrush episode and close-ups of my face. Even if you had not been there or knew the background there would be no doubt that the woman under the brush was getting a lengthy spanking and was not enjoying it one bit.
When I looked at the last four I was amazed. They were all of me in that pretty dress the women gave me and there was something about the pictures that led me to believe the cameraman had forgiven me and was trying to capture me at my best. That old phony. I decided to keep those but was unsure about what I wanted to do with the rest.
I spent the rest of the afternoon doing odds and ends around the office. There were a few visitors who wanted to meet me and chat a bit. I smiled when Mrs. Olsen wandered in. She asked how I was doing and did I like the job. I said I was quite happy with the arrangement and thanked her for helping me. She brushed my gratitude aside and said, "The reason I came here is to ask if you'd have dinner with us. Here's our address and thank goodness the streets in town stay in one place."
I accepted the invitation and had to give her a large hug before she departed. I heard two complaints about not getting their paper and dutifully wrote down the information and promised to deliver a Journal to them. At four o'clock I gathered two newspapers and the manila envelope and closed the office. One of the customers apologized and said that her paper had been delivered but her dog ran off with it. I made a mental note to stop at the office on my way to the Olsen's and change the complaint log.
When I got home I took out the nice pictures and was still uncertain about the others so I decided to put them under the mattress. I laughed out loud. There was a similar envelope already there. I took a peek and saw a younger Maryellen getting paddled in the firehouse. I wondered what she had done to warrant a Community Service and how many other women in this town had a collection like that hidden somewhere in their house.
I headed off to dinner and stopped at the office to clear the complaint entry. I was surprised to see the lights on. There was a young boy sitting in one of the chairs and he did not look happy. I assumed, correctly as it turned out, that he was to see Mr. Denner about a complaint. The woman whose dog stole the paper was also waiting with a man who was holding her hand. They were both looking rather worried. Just then the door to Mr. Denner's office opened and he stepped out accompanied by a girl who was looking ashamed. She wasn't crying so I guessed that she had just gotten her first lecture.
As she scurried out my boss asked me why I was there. I told him about wanting to clear the complaint and he asked me to stay for a while. He crooked his finger at the boy and went into his office. The lad gulped and walked to the wall to get the Denner and disappeared into the other room. I gathered that Mr. Denner eschewed any long talk. The carrier knew why he was being punished and there was no need to belabor the point. So it was only a few seconds before we heard the wood make its first contact. The things I heard about how fast he struck were confirmed. What followed sounded like a machine gun but even that loud noise was drowned out by pitiful cries. I was watching a clock and exactly one minute later the swats stopped but the sobbing continued. Mr. Denner came out of the office but left the door open. I could see the other occupant struggling to pull his pants up and then his hands still shaking as he picked up the Denner. He quickly put it back in its proper place and wordlessly but not silently left.
I was slightly wrong about the lack of lectures. He faced the woman and said, "How many times have I asked you to see if your dog is the culprit before you call to complain about missing your paper? Never mind. Do you remember what I said I would do if it happened again?"
A nod from her and he turned to me. "Put a note next to her account. No paper for the next month."
Returning his attention to his visitors he said, "Get the Denner and come with me."
The woman's husband reached for it but was stopped, "No, she has to carry it herself."
It only took a few seconds to change her account but I was rooted to the spot when I heard her spanking begin. It seemed to me that the swats were landing harder and she started acknowledging their effect even sooner than the boy did. What struck me as odd was that he didn't stop at one minute. It was almost 20 seconds later before she was providing the only sounds. My boss stepped out and closed the door behind him. He said, "I'm glad you're still here. When you get a situation where the complaint is rescinded you need to adjust the log immediately or at least call and leave a message for me. I check for problems and call the errant carrier that evening. Luckily for the one who has this woman on her route I recognized the name and did some checking up. If I hadn't I may have punished someone unjustly."
I apologized and he said, "No need. You did the right thing in coming here to clear the complaint and didn't know what your delay could mean."
The office door opened and the couple came out. Her face was a mess and she avoided our eyes as she replaced the antique implement and hurried out.
Mr. Denner felt the need to do little explaining. "If I have to discipline a married person I always have the spouse present and get their consent. If it means anything it's not always the wife over my desk."
I asked about the extra twenty seconds and he smiled, "I thought you'd be paying attention. When I punish the youngsters they never miss the one minute mark but most of the adults get distracted and don't stay focused on the clock."
We closed the office and I continued my journey to visit the Mayor, Fire Chief, Magistrate, etc. and his wife who seemed to be the one who really ruled this community.
Dinner was wonderful as was to be expected and so was the conversation. The normally stuffy man of the house was charming and had a wry sense of humor. I learned more things about this town in regard to their attitudes towards pre-marital sex. Virginity is not highly prized but dating that may lead to intercourse is controlled by the parents much like it is in the outside world. Unwanted pregnancies were unheard of since all children were sterilized upon reaching puberty. The method they used could be reversed completely but not until at least two years after their wedding.
My host casually announced that he had already made an appointment for me with the local doctor. None of my potential partners were able to sire a child but I would have the sterilization procedure done regardless. I couldn't think of a reason not to do it especially since it was described and the recovery would, at most, require me to rest in bed for the afternoon.
Then Mrs. Olsen got out her wedding album. The pictures weren't as crisp as the ones I had recently seen but they were very nice. In spite of the 35 years that had elapsed since they were taken I would've recognized the couple. They were both good lookers and I could see the family resemblance's in their parents. I pointed to the best man and said, "Isn't that Mr. Denner?"
Indeed it was and his wife was the maid of honor. I heard the story of her passing a number of years ago and everyone was happy that he and Mrs. Jenkins found each other.
Then she turned to the pages of her initial matrimonial paddling. I was embarrassed to see them at first but both Mrs. Olsen and her husband were proudly pointing out aspects of them so I relaxed and enjoyed their reminiscences. I'm sure there were pictures like mine where the little loincloth wasn't doing its job but if there were, they weren't in the album. I asked about that loincloth since it looked like the one Maryellen wore and was told that it belonged to the town. I was welcome to take a look at it next time I was there. It was in the same place as the white cuffs and next to the cabinet that held the accessories used at Community Services.
Conversation turned to me and my life in the other world. They expressed sympathy when I told them my parents had died a few years ago. I thanked them and we talked about some of the schools I attended and the jobs I had and lots of other things. They asked about the men I met in Riverton and how I felt about them. I felt completely open and honest as I discussed my feelings and, after a little embarrassment, told them a few of the more intimate details of my short tenure in Riverton. They agreed with my decision to take my time and sample all I could before making a final decision.
Then they looked at each other for a moment. Mr. Olsen spoke for them. "You know our tradition about starting an engagement. When the right man comes along we'd be honored if you brought him here. We could act as proxy parents and I still have the hairbrush we used when our son misbehaved."
That sentence wouldn't make sense anywhere else in the world. But this is Riverton and I had tears in my eyes as I fell into their arms and thanked them. I not only found a wonderful town, I just became part of a family.
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