Note from the author:

This is a rather long story about a woman who finds a new life in an unusual town. The first chapter contains a description of a somewhat harsh punishment but the rest of the chapters will be considerably less severe. The opening sets the scene for one of the ways people in Riverton deal with miscreants. It also gives a foretaste of how these same people feel about spanking for non-disciplinary purposes. In the rest of the chapters she will tell you about herself, the people she meets, and her introduction to and acceptance of a new (to her) form of sexuality.

A happy ending is a foregone conclusion.

And as she will tell you later, life is good.

Quillis

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Community Service in Riverton.

It was a beautiful day. Bright sunshine and not a cloud in the sky. I was enjoying a pleasant drive in my little sports car with the top down and listening to some great tunes. I heard a siren behind me and saw a fire truck in the rear view mirror so I speeded up a little. I wasn't about to pull over on to the grass in my baby so I waited until I found a wider spot in the road. The truck zoomed past me and the guy in the passenger's seat of the truck was yelling something. OK, so I didn't pull over right away but there was no need to get so upset. I gave him the finger and went back to my tunes. It couldn't have been more than five minutes later when the whole thing was repeated. This time it was a police car with flashing lights and everything. A mile or so later there was a good spot to stop and the cops came up to my window.

I knew I wasn't speeding so I didn't have a clue what they wanted but I got out my license and stuff and held it out for them. The taller one, who was kind of cute looked down at me and asked, "Miss, did a fire truck just pass you?"

What kind of a question was that? I smiled sweetly and answered, "Why Yes. Did you lose one?"

He didn't see the humor in my remark and asked me to step out of the car. As soon as I was on my feet he spun me around and before I knew it he had his handcuffs out and my arms were locked behind me. I politely asked what was going on. Actually I said, "Hey Bozo, what the bleep do you think you're doing?" only I didn't say, "bleep" if you get my drift.

He chose not to answer and steered me toward the cruiser as he told his partner to drive my car back to town. I was unceremoniously dumped into the back seat behind a steel grating and off we went. I'm afraid my language got even more colorful on the way but he never said a word until we got to an official looking building. The sign identified it as the Riverton Police Station, Fire House, Town Hall and Municipal Court. What a dinky little burg. Then his conversation consisted of telling me to get out of the car and guiding (actually dragging) me into the station.

There was a matronly woman sitting at the desk and she asked, "Is that the blue sports car?"

My guide grunted affirmatively but added, "She's a little vixen and has quite a mouth on her."

By way of inadvertent confirmation I said, "What the bleep are you talking about. All I want is for this bleeping imbecile to tell me what I'm charged with. What the bleep kind of bleeping Gestapo are you bleeping idiots running here?"

Mrs. Olsen (according to the name plate on the desk) nodded and said, "I see what you mean George. We'll put her in cell three until the mayor gets back and give her something to think about while she waits."

George escorted me into a small room. I didn't notice the rope hanging from the ceiling until he hooked it to my wrists and pulled on it. My arms went up and I had to bend forward. I was in the process of exercising my right to free speech when dear Mrs. Olsen joined us. She was holding a bar of soap. She held it to my face and sweetly said, "Now, now little girl. Lets see what we can do about cleaning out that dirty mouth. Open wide."

I was torn. I wanted her to have the benefit of my opinion but that would give her the target she wanted so I kept my mouth shut tight as I stared daggers at her. She smiled and said, "George."

That may not have been a complete sentence but the oaf behind me understood what she meant. I watched as he went to one wall and unhooked a nasty looking strap. Unbelievably he stepped behind me and my rear end exploded. I yelped and that was what Mrs. Olsen was waiting for. Quick as a wink she shoved the soap into my mouth. I tried to spit it out but another explosion on my flanks kept me from that objective as she twisted and rubbed the bar over my tongue. When she stepped back I foolishly demonstrated that it did not have the desired effect by referring to her in very uncomplimentary terms. She just smiled and shook her head. "My, my. I haven't been called that in years. George, the mayor will probably want some coffee when he gets back so why don't you go brew a fresh pot. Oh, and there's no need to rush. Take your time. This young lady and I are going to have a little chat."

George smiled knowingly and strolled out of the room. I looked up at Mrs. Olsen and with a harried mother sort of sigh she said, "I guess we didn't get it all washed out. We'll do a better job in a few minutes. When George gets back you're going to ask him to help you. I want that soap in every little nook and cranny and you're going to keep your mouth open and make sure he doesn't miss anything."

I told her she was crazy and she never stopped smiling as she stepped to my side and reached under to unsnap my jeans. As is my custom I queried her on her intentions and she did not have to answer in words. My pants fell to my ankles and my panties followed. Of course I objected in the strongest terms but to no avail. She picked up the strap where George had dropped it. It hurt when I first felt it but that was nothing like getting in on my bare skin. I screeched and it struck again. I cried out an apology and she commented, "I see we're getting somewhere. That's a good start. George will be a few more minutes so it's just us girls for a while. You can practice your apology while we're waiting."

I practiced all right, six more times and each one louder than the last. An eloquent act of contrition after each hard swat. I was almost hoarse when George finally returned. As ordered, I meekly requested more soap and opened my mouth as wide as I could. I wanted to throw up but couldn't and they left me hanging there with a sickening taste in my mouth. Of course, my position had not changed so my bare hindquarters were still openly displayed and my bound hands were completely unable to provide any form of comfort. Believe me, I tried.

My knees were getting weak by the time Mrs. Olsen returned with the guy I saw in the fire truck. He sipped his fresh coffee as he walked around me and said, "I see you had a little problem with this one."

Mrs. Olsen replied, "Not really, she just forgot her manners and needed a bit of a reminder. I think we now have a very polite young woman here. Isn't that true Dear?"

The last was to me and I uncharacteristically answered, "Yes Ma'am. I'm sorry for the trouble I caused. And I'm sorry for the way I acted towards this gentleman. Could I please have some water?"

He ignored my request. I was startled when he put his hand on my rear end but I realized that any civil rights I might have had elsewhere were nowhere to be found in this town. If the mayor wanted to caress my naked bottom there was nothing I could do to stop him. He rubbed and squeezed it a few times before speaking to the woman. "Good job Agnes. I'll convene the court when Larry shows up."

He left and Mrs. Olsen (I couldn't think of her as Agnes) untied my arms from the rope. My hands were still cuffed and I asked to have them freed. She smiled and said, "Of course Dear. Unfortunately I don't have the key but George is out by the desk. You can ask him."

She started to leave but I said, "Could you help me get my pants up?"

Still grinning as sweetly as can be she said, "No. You can do that yourself after the cuffs are off. Come along."

She led the way and I shuffled after her. At least my hands could reach low enough to rub a bit of the soreness. Unfortunately, my modesty remained compromised and I wondered if they were going to add indecent exposure to whatever else they were charging me with.

I almost made it to old George when the door burst open and the other cop strolled in. George looked up and said, "Larry, where have you been?"

Larry sheepishly replied, "Sorry George. I never got to drive a car like that before and wanted to show it to Maryellen. It sure is a nice car and we took a little drive around town. You don't mind do you Miss?"

Oh sure, I was tickled pink that some local hick took my beautiful little baby for a joy ride. An hour or two ago I would've told him exactly what I think of car theft but since I was still cuffed and my bare bottom all too available to that strap I smiled and said, "No, not at all. I hope she enjoyed it."

See, I was learning small town politeness but I was silently grinding my teeth. Then he said, "By the way, I'm sorry about that dent in the rear fender."

My face went white. He put a dent in my car? He saw my response and laughed, "Ha, gotcha. I was just kidding. But speaking of rear fenders, it looks like yours got a taste of the strap. Bend over and let me take a look."

I turned and presented my rear fender for his perusal and winced at his approval. "Yep, Agnes does know how to swing that thing, doesn't she?"

I agreed with him and then he disappeared. George finally freed my hands and the first thing I did was to get my pants up. Then off to the rest room where I put my face under the faucet and rinsed my mouth out four or five times. It was going to take a lot more than water to overpower the rotten taste but that was out of the question. There was a knock on the door and Agnes said, "Court is about to start. You don't want to be late. You're in enough trouble as it is so get a move on."

I tried to comb my hair with my fingers since I didn't have my purse and George led me through a short hallway and into the courtroom. Mrs. Olsen was seated at a small desk as the court clerk and Larry the cop was now Larry the bailiff. He did his little Oyez, Oyez, Hear Ye, Hear Ye speech and guess who was the judge. Mr. Fire Chief, Mayor and Magistrate himself. Not only that, Larry announced him as the honorable Morris Olsen. So in addition to everything else, he was Agnes' husband. I knew my goose was cooked.

He settled himself at the bench and looked over some papers for a few minutes. At last he looked at me. "Well young lady. You are charged with two counts of failure to yield to emergency vehicles and one count of using an obscene gesture in public and one count of disrespect to an officer of the court, namely me. There's also the business of the way you talked to George and Mrs. Olsen but since they've already taken care of that problem I'll let it pass. So, how do you plead?"

I was having a hard time holding my tongue in check but I avoided his question by asking if I was entitled to a lawyer. He grimaced. "What do you need one of those leeches for? It's fairly simple. The fire truck had it lights flashing and siren on for two miles before you pulled over. And George tells me he was behind you for at least a mile with his siren and lights and you did not stop. Do you dispute those facts?"

I said, "No, but '"

He continued, "And do you deny flipping your finger at me?"

I hesitated, "Well, No but '"

Once again I was cut short and he announced, "There we are. Guilty on all counts."

I was dumbstruck. He started writing something on a paper and said, "You can consider yourself lucky young lady. I will not put these charges in your permanent record but you will pay the price for these transgressions. I think a little community service with a representative from the fire department will do you a world of good. However given the number of counts against you and the fact that I was the recipient of your disrespect you will have a additional thirty minutes under my charge. Sentence to be carried out in accordance with Municipal Code 509.25 Paragraph 7. We'll start at 6:30 PM tonight. Until then you are confined to this building except for an evening meal. Court is adjourned."

He was about to do the gavel thing when he stopped and stared at me. He said, "Wait a minute. I can't believe it. Unless my eyes deceive me, I think she's in violation of Municipal Code 509.25 paragraph 2. Bailiff, would you verify that?"

Larry approached and George grabbed my wrists and pulled them way up over my head. In a flash my T-shirt was pulled up and my crime was exposed. I wasn't sure what my exact crime was but the nice judge took the time to explain why my bare breasts added to the inventory of my sins. "We don't care much for improper dress around here. Women are expected to wear proper undergarments and 509.25 Paragraph 2 explicitly states that females over the age of twelve will wear a bra in public with very few exceptions. Wearing a tight T-shirt like the one you're wearing is not one of them. It does nothing but accentuate your shame. You might as well be wearing nothing at all. In fact, since you're determined to show off your figure we'll accommodate you. Bailiff, take it off her."

Larry pulled it over my head and my hands immediately moved to cover my breasts. They weren't much to speak of but I've been told they're nice enough. In a way I was proud of them but not to the point of being comfortable showing them in court. Then Larry asked the judge, "Should I check for paragraph 1?"

The judge waved him off, "No need for that. I saw them when they were at her ankles and they looked to be in compliance. Not by much mind you but legal nonetheless. You can go back to your station."

Larry slunk away obviously disappointed at not getting to show the court my panties. I couldn't believe this place. Laws about women's underwear? I had little time to ponder that as His Honor added to my sentence. "This changes things a bit. Agnes, contact Reverend Archer and tell her that's we'll need her services. This little hussy needs some counseling on morality and proper decorum. The good Reverend can deal with the matter of obscene gestures better than I could but I'm still going to have a go at this young lady when that's done. Also, subsection 3 is hereby waived. She will not wear anything above the waist during the process. Now, court is adjourned."

He slammed his gavel and strode out. I looked around in great confusion but got no answers as George let me put my top on and led me out of the courtroom. Escape was not an option since they had my purse and car keys locked up so I had the freedom to move around as long as I stayed in the police station part of the building. They completely ignored my questions about this community service stuff but I figured, what the heck, some time picking up trash or whatever was not going to kill me. My real concern was having to undergo some righteous scolding during the process. My folks used to give me some pretty good lectures and I hated them. And then there was order that I have my breasts uncovered. It was humiliating to stand like that in the courtroom but it was going to be mortifying to have them in plain view of anyone who cared to watch me do the chores or whatever. Still I guess it was better than having a criminal record and paying a large fine. The real bummer was that there was nothing to do while waiting and all they had to read were very old magazines featuring the latest in fishing gear.

I had supper in a small diner just down the street and Larry was to stay with me. His girlfriend joined us. They sat and talked to me while I ate. I asked why they weren't dining and Maryellen cheerfully said, "Don't worry about us. We'll have plenty later. Whenever someone gets a Community Service most of the town shows up and we have a covered dish supper. You'll miss the main meal but they wait for the Community Service to be over before having dessert so you'll get to have some."

She giggled as she added, "Tee-hee, of course you'll have to eat standing up but I recommend Mrs. Arnold's peach pie. It's delicious but you better get to it fast."

Larry quietly interrupted her. "Um, not tonight. The mayor gave her three sessions so she'll have to settle for whatever's leftover for dessert."

Maryellen looked shocked. "Three? Oh you poor girl. Uh, oh. Look at the time. I've got to get home and help Mumsy with the casserole. See you later."

She gave Larry a kiss and was gone. I started to ask my chaperone why she sympathized with my plight and what was that business about standing to eat dessert. He shrugged, "It's just that no lotion is allowed during a Community Service. You'll understand in a little while. Come on, it's almost time so we have to get back to the station."

As we walked down the street I noticed people starting to gather at the part of the building that housed the fire equipment and many of them looked at me strangely. There were some giggles from the younger set, a few scowls from the older women and nothing but sly grins from the men. I was starting to feel uncomfortable as we went into the police station where things really fell apart.

Mrs. Olsen picked up a small bag and took me to cell three. She told me to take everything off. The strap was in plain view so I meekly complied. Then she opened the bag and took out the strangest garment. It was like a short loincloth that tied around my waist. It was only about eight inches wide and there was no back flap. She commented, "That should keep part of your privates out of view. At least while you're walking. Now give me your hands." She took out a pair of padded leather cuffs and my hands were locked together in front of me. Next more cuffs were put on my ankles with a short chain connecting them. Except for the small piece of cloth that barely covered my pubic region, I was naked as I shuffled back to the main part of the station. She looked at the clock and said, "We've got five minutes and the mayor wants you to read this."

I had expected that I would have to wash the fire trucks or pick up trash or something but this outfit didn't seem appropriate for those sort of activities. I was starting to get really worried and as I read the copy of Municipal Code 509.25 Paragraph 7 my worst fears were realized. I'll skip the legal mumbo-jumbo and summarize it for you. I would be in the center of the room and visible to all citizens who attended. A cable from the ceiling would keep my arms up over my head so my bare bottom would be on display for thirty minutes. Sort of a before and after thing. After what, you ask? Why after the spanking of course. That comes next. In my case it should read "they" come next since I was scheduled for three of them. Each one to consist of ten minutes with an approved paddle or strap. The strokes were to be separated by no less than ten and no more than fifteen seconds. Then I am to remain in position and observers were encouraged to inspect the results of the spanking and compare the state of my rear end to the way it looked during their initial inspection. In this manner I would be an example and serve as an object lesson for all and especially to the younger generation. Thus the name "Community Service".

I still wasn't sure what the "soothing lotion" was but I guess it didn't really matter. The rules stated that whatever it was could not be applied for at least two hours after the final period of display. I was beginning to understand why Maryellen talked about not sitting down for dessert. But like the lotion, it didn't make any difference to me. As soon as I was off that cable I would be out the door and leaving this place for good.

I looked down at my hobbled feet and sighed. According to the code it was to prevent excessive kicking during the spankings and from what I had just read I was probably going to give them a good workout. They also prevented me from trying to make my escape; an idea that sounded good but would more than likely fail and increase my punishment. I was already crying when George took my arm and we entered the main garage of the firehouse.

The trucks were parked outside. A long table was covered with delicious looking food and another one with truly tempting desserts. Of course, this observation is in retrospect since eating was the last thing on my mind as I was led to my position. There were lots of people sitting at other tables and all eyes were on me. I squeezed my arms tighter to cover as much of my breasts as I could but I needn't have bothered. Center stage had a cable hanging down and my wrists were attached to it. The cable went up until my feet barely touched the floor. I was facing the audience but I couldn't look at them.

The mayor made a speech outlining my transgressions and made a point of telling them that my lack of clothing above the waist was due to the violation of the braless ban. He turned to me and drew my attention to a small table. He pointed to a paddle resting on it and said, "Your first spanking will be with this. The strap is for me but Reverend Archer will probably want to use something else."

He was pointing to the objects as he spoke. In addition to these instruments of torture there was a small bowl of water with a bar of soap floating in it. "I expect that you will not fully appreciate what is going to happen to you. Expressions of discomfort or requests for cessation of the punishment are acceptable and actually expected. What we will not condone is inappropriate language since there are children present. I understand that you are already familiar with the soap but if you want to taste it again just say the word."

He laughed at his own pun and leaned over to whisper in my ear. "I'm going to give you the strapping and I'll make you a deal. If you apologize for your behavior during and after the first spankings and also thank us for punishing you I'll space my strokes at the maximum time. Otherwise I'll give them to you as fast as I legally can so it's either forty strokes or sixty. Your choice."

He stepped back and announced that I was ready for inspection and some of the townsfolk gathered around to get a good look. You cannot imagine the humiliation I felt as they mixed socialization with comments about me and my body. Those comments fell into three categories that tended to overlap each other.

1 - Wasn't I ashamed of myself?

2 - Isn't it good that I'm learning such an important lesson?

3 - Those are nice tits but need to grow a bit more.

After a while they drifted to the food and when everyone had their plates full and started eating it was time for the main event. One of the firemen picked up the first implement and let me take a closer look. It was like an elongated ping-pong paddle only made of a more flexible material. Despite its size it looked like it would hurt and let me tell you, it did. I thought fire fighters were supposed to put out fires but this guy lit one in my rear end. I only grunted at the first few strokes but somewhere during the next ten minutes I cried out and was sobbing by the end. When he stopped there was applause from the viewers and he took a bow.

I had been expressing my regrets rather loudly during the paddling but that was the expected reaction. You know what I mean, "I'm sorry, ouch, I'm so sorry, Oh that hurt, please stop spanking me, I'm so very sorry, Please no more." Those words came quite easily but I knew that wasn't the sort of apology the mayor wanted to hear. So when the applause died down and I was able to speak I made the correct admission of guilt and request for forgiveness. A stern look from the master of ceremonies reminded me to add my thanks to the man who just gave me the most painful punishment I had ever experienced. He accepted my forced gratitude and walked away. For a moment I bemoaned the fact that for the second time that day, I was unable to provide any personal comfort to my aching backside. Of course, this was worse. Mrs. Olsen's strap was a painful wakeup call but nothing but a few light taps in comparison to Mr. Fireman's enthusiastic use of the paddle. I really can't say how many times he made contact but I can tell you that I felt each one to the core of my being. Then fresh tears streaked down my face as I realized that his was only the first. I still had two more sessions with that paddle and/or the strap before they were finished with me.

This time there was a larger group feasting their eyes and adding even more humiliating commentaries on my shame, my punishment and my body. During my gyrations the loincloth had moved to my side so there was more of me to view until Mrs. Olsen pushed her way through the throng and adjusted it properly. My thanks to her were truly heartfelt.

As people drifted away Larry came back with Maryellen. She looked at my bottom and said, "Wow, that's really something. I'll bet that really hurt."

This girl had a keen sense of the obvious but her next statement was to her boyfriend and caught me off guard. "I know you're going to paddle me after we're married but for now I'm glad you only use your hand when you spank me."

He smiled and said, "Speaking of that, lets go. We can use cell three."

She pouted and turned to me. "I should have expected that. He gets really turned on when it's a girl doing Community Service. I'm going to reap the benefits of your erotic display. Of course, no man in this town would think of having sex without warming the girl's bottom first. So I guess I'm going to get spanked." Then she giggled, "But what he does afterwards makes it all worthwhile. We'll be back in time to watch the mayor but I hate missing Reverend Archer. She's so much fun when she spanks someone."

With another giggle and a small jump as he swatted her rear end they headed for the door to the police station. As one who just felt how efficient the men in this town were at "warming a girl's bottom" I could not understand why she sounded like she was actually looking forward to him punishing her. I was left alone with my thoughts for another five minutes before the aforementioned Reverend Archer stepped up to the plate. As you've already noticed, the local minister was a woman. She was in charge of punishing obscenities and I had a brief hope that she wouldn't paddle me as hard as the fireman did. My wish was granted but only in part. She asked the mayor if he would object to her invoking Municipal Code 509.25 Paragraph 8. I remembered reading paragraph 8 but didn't pay that much attention to it before. In essence it allowed certain aspects of paragraph 7 to be waived in lieu of an alternative punishment. There was a quiet murmur from the tables. Apparently they knew what Reverend Archer had in mind and I saw heads nodding as the mayor approved of the change. I soon found out what I was in for but in an indirect manner.

The minister's daughter delivered a sturdy chair and her mother asked for the hairbrush. The girl appeared to be in her mid teens and her face turned red as she took the requested item from her back pocket. Her humiliation grew as her mother explained why the girl had it readily available.

"Jenny had a little problem today and has to keep the brush until we get home where it will be put to good use on her naughty bottom. Don't be embarrassed Jenny, everybody here knows I spank you. Don't forget, I took your pants down and put you over my knee last month in the malt shop. You can have the brush back when I'm finished with this young woman. Now go back and sit down while you can."

There were a few snickers as the girl walked back to the tables and then her mother and I were the show to watch. I got the idea that the discussion between this woman and the mayor was nothing new. She said, "A hairbrush spanking over my knee is not nearly as bad as the paddle so I'd like the time limit between strokes lowered to 5 seconds."

Again the mayor consented and I did a fast mental calculation. The maximum number of strokes just went from 60 to 120. I groaned but was ignored as she made an additional request.

"I believe a warm-up spanking is usually a good idea but since she's already been paddled the full treatment is not entirely necessary. Jenny will be over my lap for at least ten minutes before she gets hairbrush but I don't want to use up all my time doing that to this girl. Still, I think it's important so I request an additional minute to spank her with my hand. Actually, make that two minutes to make sure she understands how to dress like a lady."

This extension required approval from the audience and of course, they all agreed. She sat down while George unhooked me from the cable and led me to her side. A second later I was on her lap. She adjusted and readjusted me to her liking and seemed to be purposely increasing my humiliation of being in this position. I was almost thankful when she finally made contact with my bottom. I say almost because this was a woman who knew how to spank. She put her two minutes to good use. Apparently there was no minimum time between swats during this warm-up and the impacts were coming rapid fire on my sore backside. The mayor called out when her allotted time was elapsed. He had been holding the hairbrush during this and then he handed it to her. He gave her a few seconds to get me resettled on her lap and asked if she was ready. I didn't hear anything so I assume she nodded because he held up the stopwatch and said, "Begin."

Hairbrush spanking not as bad as the paddle? Who was she kidding? It burned and stung like the dickens. I didn't voluntarily attempt to roll off her lap but I know I wriggled and squirmed a lot. I guess she had enough experience with Jenny to keep a girl where she was supposed to be for this activity and my involuntary gyrations did not compromise her ability to hit the target. When the mayor declared my ten minutes of Hell complete I was sobbing and could not speak. It wasn't until George had me strung up again that I called to the retreating woman, "Reverend Archer. Thank you for punishing me. I deserved it and am sorry for not acting like a lady."

She turned around and smiled. "You're welcome."

Once again I had a group of well-wishers and voyeurs surrounding me for the next twenty minutes. I was expected to respond to any questions put directly to me. In no special order my answers were:

I'm 26 years old.

Yes, I am ashamed of myself.

Yes, it really hurts.

Yes, I am learning my lesson.

Thank you, I'm glad you like them.

34-B.

No, I won't ever do anything like that again. And so on.

One interesting bit of conversation was between Reverend Archer and her daughter. They were behind me and looking at my bottom when the woman said, "Take a good look Jenny. Before you go to bed tonight yours is going to be just as red. Maybe no paddle marks but expect an extra long warm-up before your date with the hairbrush."

As they walked away I called after them. "Jenny, I don't know what you did to deserve the punishment you're going to get but let me give you some advice. You may not believe it now but there are worse things than one of her spankings. She's punishing you because she loves you. She wants you to grow up to be a respectable woman and a sore bottom from time to time is a small price to pay. If my parents had spanked me more often I wouldn't be here like this. I had a bad attitude and no respect for rules and authority. Your mother spanked me because I deserved it. I thanked her before and I do it again now. Reverend Archer, thank you for helping me understand how my behavior can lead to unpleasant consequences. I hope Jenny will be able to say the same. Maybe not tonight but in the future."

The folks around me who heard my little speech actually applauded and the woman who did such a good job on me a short while ago gave me a hug. She said, "I think I should have a little talk with the mayor."

She left and a few minutes later Maryellen and Larry returned. Maryellen whispered in my ear. "I don't know about you but a good spanking really gets my other juices flowing. Larry took me to cell three. I understand that Mrs. Olsen gave you the strap there so you know the position. I love it when he spanks me but it's extra special when I'm bent over and chained to the ceiling. I'm deliciously helpless and he takes full advantage of it. He spanks me longer and harder than usual and I actually start crying because it hurts so much. Just when I'm sure I can't take anymore he slams into me as hard as he can. Let me tell you, it's wonderful when he does and since I'm still chained his body crashing against my red hot bottom is like getting an extra spanking. It's a good thing we have the lotion or I wouldn't be able to sit down for dessert. Anyway, you really should try that sometime. Oops, here comes the mayor. Bye."

I couldn't imagine why she decided to share that with me and I couldn't help noticing that she seemed awfully chipper for someone who just got a spanking like the one she described. Did the lotion she mentioned have anything to do with that? My musings were interrupted by the arrival of the master of ceremonies. He stood next to me and addressed the crowd. "I know this is running a little later than usual but don't worry. The band is setting up and as soon as I'm done strapping this girl they'll start the music. I expect most of you will want to stay and dance the night away. Except for Reverend Archer and Jenny of course. It seems they have other things to do tonight."

There were chuckles at Jenny's predicament and cheers at the news about the band. Then he continued, "I made a deal with our star attraction that if she showed proper respect and repentance during her spanking I would not give her all the swats that I could. She has fulfilled her part of the bargain and exceeded my expectations. Our beloved minister told me what this young woman just said to her daughter. I'm sure most of you have already heard the story so I hope you'll agree with me on a modification of her punishment."

I had fleeting images of him eschewing the strap for something like a hairbrush so I was surprised when he turned towards me and said, "In about 30 minutes your Community Service will be complete and then you are free to leave. However, I want you to know that although you broke a few of our laws you will have been properly punished and as far as we are concerned, that's the end of it. We hold no ill will towards you. I'm going to ask you to do likewise. We'd like you to stay here and join us for the rest of the evening. The band is not bad and the dancing is great fun. Besides, there's still plenty of cake and pie left and you can have your fill. You may be an involuntary visitor but we'd like to welcome you properly."

I couldn't think of anything that would induce me to stay so I politely refused. "Your Honor, I can honestly say that I don't hold a grudge against you, reverend Archer or the fellow who paddled me. I ache all over and know it's going to get worse in a moment but as I told the girl, I deserve this punishment. However, I think I would rather head home when we're done and just be alone. I'm ready for the strap now."

He smiled. "You just proved my assumption. I think you have learned your lesson. Please listen to my modification before you make your decision. You are going to get the strap but I'll make it only a dozen strokes. What's more I'll waive the two hour minimum before the lotion. You may have heard reference to it. It is very effective and within a few minutes the pain will be almost gone so you can enjoy the rest of the evening."

The whole room was silent as I considered his offer. Of course, lessening the strapping was an easy choice but did I really want to remain in the company of these people? They had been witnesses to my complete degradation as well as probably enjoying the sight of me practically nude and writhing in pain. However, I was gathering that I wasn't the first woman to be punished and displayed for the town. And then there was the frightening thought of sitting in my car for the drive home. A couple of hours for my bottom to recover would make it less distracting and maybe that special lotion might work. I decided to accept.

The mayor turned to the crowd and asked if anyone opposed the idea. One man stood up and said, "I do."

The mayor shook his head, "What is your objection Emil?"

The man replied, "I'll grant that she's shown some remorse but that's easy to do when she doesn't have any choice. I say she should have the punishment she's supposed to get."

Mayor Olsen cocked his head and asked. "Do you have a compromise in mind?

Emil nodded, "I do. Lets put her resolve to the test."

The Mayor asked what he meant and I shuddered as I heard the answer. I would be released from the cable and the cuffs removed. Then I was to bend forward with my hands on the seat of the chair that Reverend Archer had used. I was to voluntarily(?) present my bottom for the strap without any external bonds. No reaching back or standing up until I had received the full allotment.

Mayor Olsen echoed what I was thinking. "Emil, be reasonable. There's no way she could hold that position for a dozen strokes after what she's endured already. Even someone as tough as you would fail your little test. But I do see some value in your suggestion. Make it six and it's a deal."

I wondered if I was going to have any say in this bargaining but wisely decided to let them haggle it out before making my decision.

Emil nodded begrudgingly and everyone looked at me. I knew the strap was going to hurt and had resigned myself to it. But this put a different spin to it. Maybe that man was right. Being contrite and accepting my punishment when I had no choice or means to avoid it was one thing. Was I being truthful to them? Lying had come easily to me in the past but I realized I had actually meant what I said about accepting well deserved discipline. Not just for violating their silly rules but for other sins and failures that had plagued me for years. I decided to accept the offer. Besides, the idea of six strokes as opposed to forty was a bonus.

The room was silent as I was released from the cable. Mrs. Olsen came forward to remove the cuffs from my wrists and ankles and then it was just me, the Mayor, the chair and the strap. I started towards the chair but stopped and turned to the little table. I picked up the thing that was destined to challenge my stamina and handed it to Mayor Olsen. He smiled and whispered, "I'm sorry but I have to do this right. It's going to hurt but it will be over soon."

I nodded and took my position. I only hoped I would be able to withstand the pain and not embarrass myself. Funny as it seems, I also didn't want to embarrass the Mayor who stuck up for me.

The paddle and the hairbrush were pretty bad but each implement had its own brand of making itself known. The strap was the worst. My fingers were turning white as I kept a death grip on the chair. I think if he gave them to me all at once it would have broken me so I guess he was doing me a favor by waiting longer than the prescribed fifteen seconds between strokes. But even a short time waiting for the next one was agony. The only thing that gave me the courage to maintain position was mentally counting them and reminding myself that the alternate was hanging from the cable and getting a lot more.

When the final one landed he put a hand on my back and said, "Stay there."

Then he spoke loudly and a little angrily, "Emil, do you want to look at these stripes or are you satisfied?"

The man he addressed just scowled and waved a hand in disgust. Then the mayor asked me if I could stand up. I nodded and struggled to my feet as he said, "You won't have to go back on the cable but you have to wait the full time before I can declare your Community Service complete. Can I trust you to keep your hands on your head?"

I stood as directed and nodded. He gathered the strap and the chair as he left me alone.

What a weird feeling. Here I was standing in a room with almost nothing on and without the benefit of bonds. It felt a bit silly but even more embarrassing than if I was hanging from the cable. The really funny part was that no one seemed to care. The band started playing and people moved to the dance floor. The only one who even noticed me was George. He brought me a glass of soda that I gratefully accepted. Then he took a cool washcloth to wipe my face. I asked him to put it on my bottom but he shook his head. "Sorry, as much as I'd like to I can't do that until your time is up. I know it hurts but only for a little while longer. Agnes is waiting in the station with the lotion. Don't worry, that will help soothe the pain. Would you mind if I stayed here with you?"

I really didn't have any choice in the matter but his was the first friendly voice I heard since my Community Service started. It was hard to smile through my humiliation and pain but I did and said, "Only if you get me another glass of soda."

When he returned he was carrying the soda and a bathrobe. He held the glass to my lips and we had a pleasant chat. Granted it was a bit unusual for me to engage in small talk while nearly naked and displaying my charms to a room full of people but in an odd sort of way I was comfortable. We talked about my work and the sort of things he liked to do (aside from kidnapping innocent young women) and before I knew it the mayor joined us. "George, are you going to keep this girl here all night? Her time was up seven minutes ago. Let her get dressed."

The younger man smiled and said, "Personally I wouldn't mind keeping her completely naked for quite a while but in a more private setting. Come on Miss. Lets get you some relief."

He put the robe on me and I almost laughed. It seemed silly to pretend to be modest about my body after displaying it for so long but I appreciated the gesture.

When we arrived at the police portion of the building Mrs. Olsen and a few of the women from the town were waiting for me. They shooed George away and took me into the ladies room where they treated me like royalty. All I had to do was stand there while they washed my face and gave me a sponge bath. I was a tad uncomfortable when one of them put her hand on my bottom but whatever she was rubbing onto it was fantastic. It was so cooling and before I knew it my throbbing had disappeared. So this was the magic lotion. Whatever it was, it was wonderful. She said, "You'll still be somewhat sore for a few days especially when you sit down but the sting will be gone. It only lasts a few hours so you'll want to put some more on before you drive home. You can keep this bottle. It should last a few days and by then you'll be as good as new. Now it's time get some decent clothes on you."

They had a bra for me that was just the right size. Then they gave me a very pretty summer dress. It fit perfectly and they said I could keep it. Mrs. Olsen explained. "It's a gift from the women in town. Most of them will be sporting red bottoms before the night is over. Nothing like yours but nice and warm and the exercise of conjugal rights is especially pleasing afterwards. Enough about that. You look lovely. You'll have all the men drooling at the sight of you. Let's go back to the party."

The mayor lied about one thing. The band was horrible but the dancing and laughing was so much fun nobody cared. I had no lack of dancing partners including the mayor. He was a genial fellow in spite of the stern exterior. But most of my dances were with George. When I wasn't tripping the light fantastic I sat and talked with some of the women. I felt right at home with them and we all giggled whenever one of them hinted at their own spankings and the delightful aftermath. It seemed that spanking in this town was not only used for public castigation but was an acceptable form of foreplay. Not only accepted but desired by both parties. That was confirmed when I sat with Maryellen and a few of her girlfriends.

They listened excitedly as she told them about Larry and cell three. One of them said, "I could use a visit there myself and was thinking of asking George but it's obvious he has his eyes on someone else's bottom."

She looked at me and everybody giggled. I blushed and said, "He has been very nice to me but I think he's just being polite. Even if what you say is true I think I'll pass. That room has very unpleasant memories for me. Besides, although I've never been spanked before I always assumed that they were for only for punishment. Today just reinforced that notion. I'll stick to more traditional forms of foreplay."

There was a combined gasp of incredulity. They all chattered at once as they told me more about Riverton. While sex without spanking was not unheard of it was considered somewhat unusual. Even as teenagers no petting session was complete without at least a few token swats as the girl lay across his lap. And like normal teenagers various articles of clothing were opened or removed to grant better access to their budding erogenous zones. But the big event was their first intimate spanking. Just as the gang around me started reminiscing about the first time a boy bared their bottoms for his hand someone interrupted and I was swept out to the dance-floor again.

Quite a few families stopped to say good-bye as they were leaving. It was a warm and friendly atmosphere and I had to smile when I saw a husband give his wife a swat or two on the way out. I was beginning to believe Mrs. Olsen's prediction that there would be plenty of warm bottomed sex that night. Except for the way the evening began, I had a wonderful time.

George let me back into the police station to get my other clothes and my purse. He said he would lead the way through the back roads and get me to the interstate so I wouldn't get lost. I smiled and thanked him. Then I said, "The girls in there seemed to think you'd want to take me to cell three."

He answered, "Under normal circumstances I would love to do that very thing but not tonight. Your lovely bottom has had quite enough for one day. The lotion will wear off soon and it wouldn't take more than a few swats to bring back the sting of those spankings. That wouldn't be fair to either of us. When I spank a girl I like to take my time. She deserves nothing less than the full treatment. However, if you're willing to spend the night at my place we can have sex your way and come back here tomorrow."

I wasn't sure if he was serious or not and I almost agreed. He was good looking and all that talk about sex during the evening certainly put me in the mood for some myself. But I knew if I stayed one night it would lead to another and I'd be there forever. I wasn't ready to give up my old life completely just yet. As he helped me into my car he kissed me. Without a word he started his police car. At the entrance to the interstate he pulled over and I saw him wave as I drove past. I realized that I should have applied another dose of the magic lotion as my bottom started to remember the paddle, hairbrush and strap but somehow I wanted to be a little uncomfortable down there on the drive home.

Continue to the next chapter of Life in Riverton.

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