Chapter 1: Monday Morning

The wood window of Dr. Fenwick's study framed a quilt of fields fenced by split rails hand hewn by the God fearing folks of Crane County. The First Baptist Church's steeple rose through Sycamores, marking a center of Middleburg, Indiana culture. The popular preacher took a moment to appreciate the scene, noting dark clouds in the distance. He saw a bolt of lightning, but it was so far away no sound could be heard.

Monday morning is a quiet time in a pastor's office. A day alone, no secretary, time for reflection on the week that was and planning the one to be, but why did young Mrs. Brown want to see him privately? The strain in her voice was apparent. His favorite parishioner; he had married the young beauty to Gordon Brown III, second son of a local landed squire. She taught Sunday School brilliantly to young teenagers, who loved her dearly. Youthful, beautiful and poised; she was perfect. "Just perfect." he said aloud.

The surrounding farms looked much as they did in the 19th century and Middleburg was still served by covered bridges. But, on this day in 1957 things looked very modern when young Mrs. Brown's new Chevrolet Bel Air pulled into the parking lot.

She emerged from the car a vision of loveliness in white. The dress was knit and body hugging. A quick breeze swirled the fabric around her as she struggled with her broad hat. The accessory rounded collar and tie made her look more like an English school girl than a middle western matron and once in place the broad white hat all but hid her lovely face. Elizabeth was rarely without fashionable pumps and her high heels clicked curtly on the curving walk as she zig-zagged toward his office trying to deal with wind gusts. He opened the carved wooden door.

"Good morning my dear." he said with more than perfunctory politeness as "Shalimar" enveloped him. "I think we're going to have a storm." She flashed a smile, but on her face were lines of concern an experienced pastor would see. "Please, come in and sit down, my dear." Noisely, she entered the office "clopping" her way to a chair before his desk.

She crossed her lovely legs and twirled one pump pensively. He closed the door and took his seat at the great oak desk eyeing her leg as he passed.

"How is marriage my dear?" he asked brightly. Her cheeks flushed and she responded, "It's not quite what I imagined, but..." She drew a deep breath and starred at the pastor's old fraternity paddle hanging on the wall.

More a trophy of college days than a tool of his trade, he put it to use but a few times, most recently when one of Elizabeth's students uttered bad words in her Sunday School class. Had something like this happened again? He paused and let the moment fix, knowing emotions are elusive, he wanted to draw from the moment rather than run over it.

The paneled office, graced with cases of religious and philosophical tomes featured an alter with Jesus on the cross starring down in his death agony. With bronze blood oozing from cast wounds, he documented Christian passion for pain. Just as music is the arrangement of sound to produce emotional response, religious sculpture is the carving of symbols to promote power.

She looked down for a moment, then up to Dr. Fenwick, "I hope you won't I'm inappropriately curious," pausing to inhale deeply, "but I wonder about the way you paddled Donney Miller, the day he, well..." "Oh yes." he interrupted to avoid repeating Donney's sinful utterance. Elizabeth had brought him directly to the pastor's office and on her word alone, Dr. Fenwick inflicted severe corporal punishment.

"Do you now have doubt, Elizabeth?" he asked nervously.

"Oh no! It happened! And, you were right, but why did you ask me to leave the room?"

He blushed. Surprised to feel warm cheeks at 40, but courage carried him through. Struck with the bloom of her young womanhood, he could only roam over the curves of hercheeks, chin and dimple. Her's was the loveliest face in the county and here she was on the morning of a new day asking a question he struggled to answer. "Elizabeth," he began with difficulty, "we do that sort of thing... uh, bareback..." He was clearly embarrassed to have to say the paddle is applied to bare buttocks.

"This is really not a discussion into which we have to delve, Mrs. Brown. Is it?" he said, addressing her with title to remind her of station. She dropped her gaze where a single shaft of morning sun fell on her white pump and drew a breath as she twirled her foot. It was a distraction, but Dr. Fenwick savored the seconds when he could stare at her long leg, perfect ankle and artfully shaped shoe.

The moment froze and leaves fluttered in a rush of spring air from an approaching storm while her gaze centered on the old paddle hanging from a peg. The whorled grain had been memorialized in stain and shellac. Only the letters "TKE" on one side interrupted the patterns. How could anything so beautiful have only the purpose of delivering pain? Stinging, burning pain...

"Tau Kappa Epsilon" she proclaimed. Her mind has been as busy as his blank. While he pondered the inner space where his feelings foundered, she gathered strength in her own darkness.

"Yes," he responded with a smile, "my old fraternity. Probably the happiest days of my life." He grinned for a moment, but quickly added, "Save those of my marriage. Poor Mildred..." His eyes dropped.

"We all miss her so..." consoled Elizabeth. "She was such a fine woman. And, to go that way..."

"She is with God..." he intoned.

"Could I hold it?" she asked pointing to the paddle with a delicate, spider-like forefinger.

Mort was surprised, but without question took the paddle from the wall and handed it to Elizabeth.

"This will be the first time I've ever taken it from the wall without using it. Perhaps I shouldn't break tradition." Her eyebrows lifted. Then she smiled slightly, blinking, but she realized it was his attempt at humor. She cleared her throat.

"Why are you so curious, Elizabeth?"

"Dr. Fenwick," she began. "When Donney uttered those bad words in my Sunday school class, I thought I would die!" She petted the paddle as if it were a purring cat and continued, "But then, with this you made him a new person. Was it a miracle?"

"That is a good question, Elizabeth. A fair question indeed." he said as he sat back in his armchair to ponder, putting his fingers together not in prayer but in thought, defining a sphere in space as if he were holding a crystal ball.

"Is it a miracle?" he repeated, "I can only say that if spanking is sufficiently severe, they seem... Yes, they see the light of God!" I've never paddled any bad boy who was not saved by it! He continued in revelation as she studied the board, running her finger around the swirling wood grain in patterns like frozen whirlpools. She placed her hand on the four inch span, then held its half inch thickness between finger and thumb, finally taking the handle and holding the board upward.

"Of what is it made?" she asked pleasantly.

"Oh this is ash. A very tough wood."

"Its so smooth..." she cooed.

"That makes it sting."

"What does it feel like?" Well, that's difficult to explain, easy to demonstrate, but hard to appreciate. It should only be used when someone really needs a spanking." he answered, but his curiosity was up, along with his animal feelings just at the thought.

"Needs a spanking?" she asked.

"Yes, because they have done something wrong, been taken by Satan, or even feel guilty." he explained. "Elizabeth?" he asked, "What do you want?"

She ran her long fingers over the paddle and said, "I think it is here, Dr. Fenwick." she drew a deep breath. "I believe it is right here... The miracle you achieved with Donney Miller is one I need now."

"Another candidate for the paddle?" Mortimer asked in an obtuse moment.

"Yes." she glanced away.

"And who would that be?" he asked

"Not someone who has been bad, but someone taken by the Devil." She answered. "The Devil?"

"Dr. Fenwick," she blurted, "it's me! I need this! Please rid me of Satan!" She exclaimed, looking down to hide her face for the moment, but then as she started to cry, the paddle fell to the wooden floor with a clatter. Dr. Fenwick rose from his chair to pick it up and as he held it in his right hand, he touched her on the shoulder with his left.

"Tell me what you mean, my dear." he ordered.

She lifted her blushing face and explained. "When Gordon fell in love with me I didn't feel the same way. I liked him a lot, but he is such a boy and..."

"Are you going to tell that you favor his older brother Tod?"

"Oh Dr. Fenwick!" she exclaimed, "Does it show?"

"Not really my dear, but old preachers know and..."

"You're not an old preacher, Dr. Fenwick." "Well, I'm 40 and I'm a widower. I feel old, but we're not talking about me."

"I love Tod, but he has never married, and I don't think he ever will. He's, well, different."

"Tod is very sophisticated."

"Yes, he wants to go to New York to be a hair-dresser, but his father won't hear of it. He wants Tod to learn the swine business."

"So you married thinking you would fall in love with Gordon?"

"Oh yes, I did and I will, but I have to get Tod out of my mind. The Devil is in me, Dr. Fenwick. Please help me! Paddle the devil out of me!"

"Elizabeth, my dear, I don't really know that Satan is in your soul. We have to be sure." he said as he placed the board on the desk and returned to his chair. "Let some time pass. Have a baby with Gordon, then you'll turn to him with all the love God gives you."

"Pastor," she sobbed, "Gordon is almost sterile. He had mumps and his sperm count is very, very low. Maybe that's why I want Tod. He could give me a baby!"

Dr. Fenwick could see the young woman's dilemma and that she was sinfully obsessed with Tod!

"My dear," he began, "I think we should go to God for guidance. Let us retire to the sanctuary and kneel before the alter."

The rectory office had been an architectural afterthought and the hall to the main sanctuary was narrow, long and step curved to a door just behind the pulpit. He opened it and led the way to the altar where they knelt before the white and gold shrine with Jesus on the Cross.

"Dear God give us guidance. Elizabeth is troubled and has asked for a way to deal with her problems. Please God, give us a sign." Mortimer became silent, Elizabeth closed her eyes. There on her knees, her head bowed and eyes closed, her long auburn hair cascading over her shoulders, he could only wonder how anything could be troubling this amazing work of God. The collar and cravat gracing her long neck gave her the aura of a school girl, but she was all woman. Her skirt was form fitting and she virtually in bloom, and from it jutted her long legs and white pumps with pencil-thin heels. Dr. Fenwick had become very erect.

Suddenly a thunderbolt struck a tree in the cemetery next to the church. The earth shook and they shuddered.

"Oh God!" she exclaimed, "Thank you!" Her voice was like a bell ringing in his brain.

"Yes!" he agreed. It was a sign. He would oblige her. Elizabeth would be paddled! The Devil will be exorcized!

Elizabeth opened her eyes and turned to Pastor Fenwick. "Oh Dr. Fenwick, yes." she cried.

"God has spoken, Elizabeth, and we heard Him. The answer is yes!" he exclaimed with a wild look in his eyes.

"Oh thank you." she exclaimed with great warmth.

Somewhat surprised by the quick resolution, Dr. Fenwick found it necessary to remain on his knees so he chattered nervously while trying to gain control of his genitalia.

"Elizabeth," he began, "we have to proceed carefully as we want to be discreet and serve God."

"Oh yes, Dr. Fenwick." she said with great reverence. Anticipation had not yet replaced relief. "I feel better already..."

He had administered many paddlings to miscreant boys in the congregation, but this would be his first female and he had to think it through.

"When do you want to do this?" he asked gingerly, biding for time.

"Now." she replied without hesitation. "Gordon is gone for a few days and I'll be alone."

"All right." he gulped, rising and giving her his hand.

They walked down the dark hall in silence. Elizabeth looked down and saw her pointy pumps alternate as she carefully placed one after another, enjoying the satisfying "clop-slap" of each step. He closed the doors behind them, locking the reception room door and said, "Wait out here, Elizabeth. Pray while I prepare." She smiled and sat on the wooden bench.

Back in his office Dr. Fenwick improvised an exorcistic paddling as the thunderstorm continued. He placed a heavy straight-backed armless chair in front of Jesus on the Cross. Christ would preside.

"Excellent."

Then he tied two silk-covered purple sash cords to the side arms just above the seat, retired to his desk to make notes what he would say during the ritual. It was all very important if it were going have the proper tone and the passing of time was part of the treatment, "They need time to think." he thought.

Meanwhile back in the reception room Elizabeth watched the old church clock click off the seconds and minutes while lightning blasts continued. The anticipation was almost more than she could bear. She thought of Donny Miller's screaming and remembered hearing boys getting paddled in school. They all screamed and cried loudly. She wondered if it would really hurt that much, but she was ready to do anything to relieve her torment.

"I'll never be free until Satan is gone from my soul."she whispered to herself, but then began to tremble in fear as Donney's wailings came back to her. Her knees were shaking and she felt like running, but could not move. Her legs were rubber.

Were she to leave he would not think ill of her. "He'd never mention it." she whispered. But her purse was in the office! Was this God's way of seeing she would be paddled?

Another sign? She wanted to rid herself of Satan's urge to have sex with her brother-in-law Tod. But then she remembered Donny Miller's pleading, screaming and moaning, but he changed from the town bad boy to one of the best boys and found freedom in discipline. "Praise the Lord" she said on the realization.

Her eyes rose to the cross on the wall where Christ hung on nails. "He died on the cross for me." she exhaled. Pain is part of Christianity and hers would be tiny compared to His. "A woman's life is pain..." she remembered one of her mother's favorite sayings. From penises to pregnancy and childbirth, girdles, nylons and high heels she sighed, "It's all pain..." This would just be another step.

"How long will he be?" she wondered as thunder and lightning struck as the storm built.

"Thinking about it is worse than getting it." She recalled the boys saying in school as her anxiety mounted. Her legs were trembling and she wondered if she could even walk. Her heart was pounding furiously.

The wall clock in Pastor Fenwick's office showed 9:30 AM. The chime made one "bong" and the doorknob turned slowly. Elizabeth felt the terror of every junior high school bad boy about to "get it." She could not stand, but took his hand and rose saying, "Pastor, I want to apologize for having made this necessary."

"Thank you my dear." He responded. "Come inside. You can put your hat on my desk." she removed her had carefully and placed on the desk. Her eyes were like saucers. She was virtually limp as he led her to the chair, putting her hands on the top. The paddle was waiting on the seat. She was shaking.

"Let us pray." he intoned as she stared at the board. "Jesus, guide us and help us rid our beloved Elizabeth of the devil within. Let her see the light. The light of your love." Then he turned to her and said, "Elizabeth, bend over the chair and grab the sidearms just above the seat." She bent over, grabbed the sidearms, then he tied her right wrist with a short sash cord.

"Why?" she asked in surprise.

"Just for safety my dear." He assured her. "You may try to put your hands in the way and the paddle could hurt them.

She was assured, but felt a great sinking feeling as he finished the knot fixing her left wrist to the chair. She bowed her head and her long hair fell to the seat touching the old paddle.

"Pastor," she asked, "may I kiss the paddle." He lifted the board to her lips, she left a greasy imprint on the shellacked surface. "Oh Jesus," she said, "deliver me with the hand of God."

Without a word Reverend Fenwick raised her dress and threw it up and over her buttocks, then yanked her panties down. She inhaled in surprise and uttered "Oh!"

"Take ten deep breaths, my dear." he ordered in a firm voice. She gulped and took two, saying, "Oh Pastor, I..."

"Don't look back." he ordered as he touched the cold blade to her buttocks. There would be no backing out now. She panted in anticipation as the sky rumbled and rain fell in sheets. Suddenly another bolt of lightning crashed to earth in the church cemetery.

Mortimer had never seen such beautiful legs in garter belt straps and seamed nylons. The tall pumps gave her legs perfect curves. She was magnificent and he felt great forces rising within. She took the tenth breath and he touched the board to her buttocks.

"Inhale," he ordered, "and look straight down. Think about why you are here. Satan is in your soul." He swung the paddle back and then quickly forward:

"SPLAT!"

Elizabeth was shocked to hear the sharp sound but feel only pressure; no pain! Then her buttocks rebounded and her stunned nerves recovered. The stinging came in a wave of pain far greater than anything she had ever felt. "Oh!" she drew a breath. "Jesus is the Lord!" he yelled and drew back.

"SPLAT!"

Now there was no pause for pain. Her heels came off the floor as she rose on her toes and cried, "Ahooooo....." she cried, lifting her heels off the floor. "Out Satan, out from this good Christian!" Lightning crashed near the church and a tree limb fell to earth with a loud crash as the third swat landed.

"SPLAT!"

"Ahhhhhh!...." she wailed as her buttocks blushed. "Praise the Lord!" he sang and pulled back again.

"SPLAT!"

"Ahhooo..." she screamed and choked, but no one heard her in the roar of the storm. She gasped and sobbed as he paused for a moment, yelling, "Go down the path to judgment. Come to the Lord!" and he made a mighty backswing.

"Oh God, please stop!" she yelled, but...

"SPLAT!"

The fifth blow landed squarely on her flaming fanny and she farted as tears gushed from her eyes and mucous ran from her nose. "Come to Jesus!" he intoned.

"SPLAT!"

The sixth swat spread her blushing buttocks as she once again rose on her toes, lifting her heels up and outward. "Ahooo..." she moaned like a copulating cat. Reverend Fenwick yelled, "Out damn Satan, out!" and he pulled back.

"SPLAT!"

The seventh swat brought only a moan and quivering. Elizabeth was incoherent, crying, drooling and gagging. Mucous ran from both nostrils. "God forgives you, Elizabeth." he said solemnly.

"SPLAT!"

The eighth swat landed squarely on her buttocks, but they began to quiver strangely and she yelled another "Ahooo..." Then she yelled, "I see it... I see it..."

"SPLAT!"

The paddle struck for the ninth time and she only uttered "Ahhhh...." "Praise the Lord!" he yelled as he drew back for what would be the last time and...

"SPLAT!"

"Come to Jesus!" he yelled, but Elizabeth jerked upward and came to earth virtually dancing on her heels. "Oh God. I see the light! I see Him..." Pastor Fenwick was astounded, stood back, waited a moment and then untied her, taking her in his arms. She was quivering and gasping for breath. Then suddenly she began to pee and shit. She had lost control. It was over in a minute accompanied by her wailing moans. He untied her wrists.

"Use my bathroom." he suggested with a gesture and she wobbled to the door sobbing deeply. She closed the door, her crying continued as Dr. Fenwick went to the utility closet for a mop and a dustpan. In a few minutes he cleaned the floor and opened a window for fresh air.

In ten minutes she emerged fairly well composed, but wearing sunglasses and her hat.

"Oh Pastor," she sobbed, "I don't know how to thank you. All these years I wondered what it felt like when the boys were getting paddled. Now I know..." and she shuddered visibly. For a fleeting moment Mortimer wondered if this all were only an adventure for Elizabeth.

"I'll walk you to the car." he offered, grabbing an umbrella from the rack.

As they emerged the showers stopped and the sky parted as if by instruction from God. Elizabeth "clopped" down the stairs and the arched walkway to the parking lot.

"Oh dear," she exclaimed, "it really stings! Pastor, you have no idea how it feels. I've never felt such pain, but God came to me!"

"I'm glad, Elizabeth." He intoned.

He opened her car door and she sat gingerly, then drove away slowly after making a quick wave to the good Reverend.

Mortimer Fenwick returned to the office, dropped into his chair, sat for a long time, not thinking, moving, only breathing. He looked at the paddle onteh wall and knew his world had changed, and changed profoundly as the storm thundered on. After some minutes of experiencing nature he wandered to the parsonage, exhausted as only a man could be having done God's good work, and soon he had things well in hand.