by DJ Black
Chelsea sighed and slipped her fingers beneath her sunglasses and rubbed at her now closed eyes until a myriad of coloured spots danced in the self-imposed darkness. She had been reading for a college essay all morning and she was bored.
In front of her was a tuft of grass and she plucked at a strand and wound it around one finger. Beyond that was the cliff's edge and a more or less sheer drop to the sea, but she had to lift her head and crane her neck to see it.
"I'm bored," she said, lazily stretching out her long, tanned legs.
"Uh-huh," her friend Candida said distantly, as she turned another page of her own book.
Then Candida did a double-take and scornfully glanced up at Chelsea, who was making a moustache with her shaggy blonde locks by trapping her hair between her nose and an exaggerated pout.
"If the boys could see you now." Candida sighed, "The cutest girl in school... If I only had half your looks."
"Oh, I don't know, you turn enough heads," Chelsea said pointedly as she dropped the hair and idly turned back a corner of the page on her book. "I wish I had your brown eyes instead of boring blue."
"Boys don't look at a girl's eyes," Candida snorted, running her eyes over the ample hump formed by Chelsea's bottom under the thin cotton dress.
Chelsea dipped her chin and pulled out the front of her dress to examine her cleavage. "You don't do so badly there either," Chelsea said, looking back and forth to compare her bust with her friend's.
"I was thinking more of the other end," Candida said ruefully.
"Oh come on, your small round buns are high and tight. I just have a big behind." Chelsea switched her view to the one over her shoulder.
It was true that Candida's best asset was more easily obscured by her clothes, a subtlety lost on most boys, but it wasn't always so well hidden. Then Chelsea remembered something and a smile played about her lips.
"Quite a few boys were keen on your tail last summer," she said carefully, her mouth struggling with a smirk. "You know, at the barbecue when you went for a swim rather than watch the sausages on the..."
"Yes well..." Candida cut her off with a blush.
"I mean once your mom had done spanking your bare bottom in front of everyone, the boys were all rather keen," Chelsea persisted, "especially when you were made to stand in the corner of the yard for most of the afternoon."
"Chelsea," Candida snapped, punching Chelsea's arm.
Chelsea rolled over, laughing, and took in the great expanse of sky above them and the huge rolling white clouds against the blue.
Candida glowered at the unseen words on the pages in front of her and fought against the blush that refused to die. She had never been so humiliated, although barely anyone gave it a thought now. She remembered Chelsea's exploits in that regard; half the neighbourhood had seen her bare behind. But the mischievous Chelsea just seemed to shrug such things off. Why do I get so embarrassed? wondered Candida.
To change the subject, Candida said, "If you're bored, why don't read your book?"
"It's so boring," Chelsea sneered. "It's all about the banned books and the World Beyond. Who cares?"
"I always found that stuff quite interesting. All those places, they seem so real. A whole world that inspired our civilisation, just think," Candida said dreamily.
"Who cares if Americana was based on a place called Usa, or Europa on some other place with a similar name I don't even remember now? No wonder these books were banned. The World Beyond sounds dreadful. No one even knows if it ever existed," Chelsea said scornfully.
"Greg Mansfield says..." Candida began.
Chelsea mimicked her.
"Don't," Candida punched her arm again.
Well, it's Greg Mansfield this and Greg Mansfield that..." Chelsea rolled her eyes up.
"He's smart and he's a good teacher," Candida said defensively.
"Aren't you a bit old to be having crushes on teachers? I remember back in High School when you had a crush on..." Chelsea teased.
"It wasn't a crush. I was 18," Candida pouted. "And nor is this."
"Alright, alright, what does Mr Greg bloody Mansfield say about the World Beyond?" Chelsea imitated a booming echoing voice as she said the last two words.
"He says that Usa and... and all those places in the books did exist," Candida was excited and quickly warmed to her subject. "He says that things got so bad, what with wars and stuff, that some people made ideal versions of their world for themselves and their friends and just went into them and never left. We are the descendants of all those folks."
"Sounds like heresy to me," Chelsea said gloomily.
"Oh Chelsea, who cares about that, these days? That's why they stopped banning the books," Candida said wearily.
"I suppose... oh shit, look at the time. I have to run or Uncle Sedge will blister my behind from now until Sunday," Chelsea pulled a face and started gathering up her books.
Despite being late Chelsea didn't hurry overmuch. The truth was that she didn't care much for Candida's philosophical ideas. She had been brought up on the Holy Church of Day and Night. She didn't care to think too much on what they believed either, but if Uncle Sedge suspected that she was anything but a devout sister of the faith or that she had been listening to any heretical ideas, then she wouldn't sit down for a month - and in the worst way. She might even be stopped from seeing Candida.
Still it wouldn't do to be late, even if the home time set was arbitrary. If she were to get in more than 10 minutes after five then aunt's disapproving look would become a scolding. Much more than that, or if they had visitors for dinner then... she didn't finish the thought and wondered if she should hurry up anyway.
The cliff road was dusty and led partly away from Baxter compound. If she kept on it and followed the coast, then it would take her to town, where she could pick up the track home. Otherwise she had to cut across the fields and risk getting her dress mussed up crashing hedges and jumping ditches. She pondered this for a moment.
Normally she would have just run across the fields hoping to slip into her room to change before being seen. But it was too late for that. Being a few minutes later, but in good order, might be better.
"Cleanliness is next to godliness," she heard her uncle intone.
Although she knew full-well that his main concern was that a Baxter girl should always be seen to be presentable and respectable. Her guardians' attitude to this depended, as always, on whether or not the Baxters' had company. A scolding could become a spanking at the drop of a visitor. In the Baxter household, punishment could be a lottery.
"The town road I think," Chelsea said aloud with a grin.
The truth was Chelsea was always going to take the town road. If she hadn't let time get away from her, she would have suggested that Candida accompany her anyway. Some of the boys were back from preaching in Europa, and better still she had heard that three girls had been caught skinny dipping on the beach and the town elders were going to make an example of them.
If she hurried up, then she might just get time to linger in town and still get home before she was too late.
As she picked up the pace the red roofs of the town began to appear. She could see them nestled between lush green woodland that ran down to the sea. Then the road fell away as the vale opened up below and Chelsea began to run.
Chelsea arrived home by the side gate and crossed the lawn to the house. She was, at a guess, some 45 minutes late, which was borderline punishment territory by 15 minutes. At least, she thought, she had got home within the hour.
Part of her knew that her side trip to town had put her tail-end in jeopardy even before she had risked it, but she hadn't counted on her excursion being such a disappointment. There had been no public chastisements and very few young men about. It might not have mattered, but Mrs Crier, a friend of Uncle Sedge, had button-holed her for a good 10 minutes about nothing in particular and it had been more than Chelsea's bottom was worth to be rude to an elder's wife.
How to play it? Chelsea thought, as she composed herself. Breeze in with a casual apology and accept a good scolding. That would work if dinner had been delayed a little. Otherwise she might be put in the corner while the others ate and spanked directly after. The latter fate would be followed by being sent to bed without supper.
Then Chelsea heard the voices and her heart sank. Visitors, oh crap, she cursed. Now Uncle Sedge will feel obliged to make an example of his wayward ward.
"Chelsea, is that you?" Aunt Sarah called from the atrium-lounge.
On another day Chelsea might have quipped something like, "No it's the dawn patrol and the town band," but only if she had been on time and certain there were no visitors.
Today, however, it was time to roll out the eggshells to walk on. The atrium-lounge was a room used only when there were special visitors. Oh crap and crapola on a bicycle, she cursed again. It looks like a visit to Shitsville for a bath is on the cards - right up to my neck. It was her third and second best curses, either one of which would earn her a cessation of sitting rights for week if Uncle Sedge heard her say them out loud. In addition, sometimes on such occasions, Aunt Sarah's soap routine could be applied at either end. She cringed at the thought.
"Yes, sorry Aunt Sarah, I was... delayed," Chelsea ventured.
Chelsea tugged down the front of her dress and quickly inspected herself in the hall mirror. The grass stain was light, she noticed, and chewed at her lip.
"Oh lore," she whispered to the girl in the glass.
"Chelsea, come in here at once," Aunt Sarah sounded... strained.
"Surely, ma'am," Chelsea said more brightly than she felt. Showtime, she thought.
All eyes turned to her as she stepped into the atrium and she offered up her sunniest smile. There were three visitors as well as Alice, Uncle Sedge's other ward, Aunt Sarah and Uncle Sedge himself. All were sitting around the white marble atrium table on which sat Uncle Sedge's decanter of honeyed brandy wine.
The visitors were the Most Reverend Gates, Pastor of the Church of Day and Night there in town, his daughter Cecilia, a girl of her own age who attended the same ladies' college in town, and his son Stephan Gates, apparently back from his mission abroad.
If she had been anything other than five or 10 minutes late, the prospect of sharing a meal with the dreamy Stephan would have more than made up for the disappointment in town. As it was, Chelsea was fearful that things could get really quite unpleasant.
The best case scenario she could conjure was a quick scolding and a promise of a later spanking before being sent to her room without supper. She blushed just to think about it.
"Look at the state of you," Aunt Sarah chided, "Whatever have you been doing?"
Reverend Gate's eyes narrowed and a significant look passed between him and Uncle Sedge.
"You haven't been swimming on the beach without a costume?" Uncle Sedge growled like a bear.
He wasn't being unkind, Chelsea knew, but Reverend Gates had obviously told him about the scandal in town and now the elders would be on the warpath with yet another no-tolerance initiative. No bottom would be safe for weeks.
"If I had taken my dress off, then it wouldn't be in such a mess." The words slipped out before she could call them back. "I mean..."
"I see," Uncle Sedge said in a tight voice, his anger appropriately suppressed. "Is that how you wish to play it?"
"I'm sorry Sir, but..."
"Now you intend to answer me back," Uncle Sedge growled as the Reverend nodded his approval.
Chelsea looked forlornly at Aunt Sarah and the others at the table. Her aunt looked embarrassed, although there was sympathy in Alice and Stephan's eyes. Cecilia just looked impassive as if she were above such things.
"No Sir, I... I'm sorry, no excuse." Chelsea occasionally knew when to shut up.
"Why are you late?" Uncle Sedge asked with a sigh.
Chelsea swallowed and this time thought carefully before she spoke up. If she told the truth, then Candida would at the very least get a very sound spanking. Not because she had done anything, but because now she would be guilty by association. Even if her friend's explanation was accepted, a spanking would be seen as preventative measure and honour would demand it.
In truth, Chelsea knew that she should apologise and tell the truth and take her spanking. It would be just, as would Candida's and no one would blame her. Not even Candida, she was sure. However, following the scandal in town and what with the presence of the Reverend Gates, it was almost certain that the mere mention of Candida would drag her friend into the kind of church punishment that her sometime comrade-in-sin would crawl over hot coals to avoid.
On the other hand, if she lied and the lie was discovered, Candida might get worse and Chelsea certainly would. A lie was a double soaping offence. The thought of a bar between her teeth as an enema nozzle was pressed between well-spanked cheeks suddenly assailed her.
All this touched Chelsea's mind in a moment and an answer further delayed would be taken as a lie for sure.
"I was up on the cliffs reading for my college work," Chelsea supplied. It was the truth. Then knowing it would pre-empt the inevitable question, 'Were you alone?' She added, "It's all this philosophy about the World Beyond. I don't get it. I lost track of time."
"What's this?" The Reverend spoke now, anger touching his voice like a taper to barbecue kindling.
My behind is about to be smoked, Chelsea thought ruefully.
"It's part of her course. It is an approved book," Uncle Sedge explained.
"Heresy," Reverend Gates spat.
"Oh I agree, but since the un-banning of certain books, they are essential reading. Otherwise how will our youth know the truth?"
Chelsea could have kissed Uncle Sedge at that moment.
"I don't agree," Reverend Gates said as if he were about to explode.
Aunt Sarah sat forward now, her mouth working as if she were about to speak. Don't, Chelsea thought. A woman interrupting two elders was the height of bad manners. Chelsea had not the slightest doubt that Sarah would be sent to the corner to await a sound chastisement from Uncle Sedge if she spoke up now. Normally a humiliation that Alice and she found amusing, but in the presence of the Reverend and his family it would be too embarrassing.
"I prayed on it and decided to allow it," Uncle Sedge said firmly, ignoring his wife and fixing the reverend with his eyes. "Chelsea has not erred on that account."
"Quite so, forgive me," Reverend Gates demurred.
While the Reverend was still in retreat, Uncle Sedge asked, "Tell me Chelsea, what is your sin?"
"I-I was unacceptably late for supper and although unintentional, I was thereby rude to your guests... our guests." Chelsea blanched and relied on long hours schooled in reciting from the holy text to get through the shaming words of her mantra.
"And?" Uncle Sedge had a hint of pride in his eyes as if she were saving the family honour.
"I was impertinent and answered you back, for which I am truly sorry Uncle." It was true, Chelsea thought sadly. Sometimes she deserved every spanking she got for her stupid mouth.
"Very well, you have delayed this meal for long enough. Go and change into a penitent dress and go stand in the corner," Uncle Sedge directed.
Chelsea gaped and went white. She noticed Cecilia smirk and Stephan shift uncomfortably in his chair as if he had suddenly found something unexpected in his pants. Then the blood returned to her face in such an unholy rush that she thought her ears would melt.
"Chelsea, go on now, you know it's just," Aunt Sarah said quietly.
"Yes Ma'am," Chelsea managed and then turned to muster as much dignity as she could as she walked from the room.
The gown was laid out on the bed as Chelsea, already naked, stood looking at it in the temporary privacy of her own room.
Chelsea was no stranger to the penitent dress. There was hardly a woman in Americana who was not. True it was more commonly employed among followers of the Church of Day and Night and even among the faithful it was an experience that would touch their lives perhaps once or twice a year. However, in the Baxter household it was used rather more frequently.
Barely a month went by when one or other of the Baxter women were not put in the corner wearing the gown to contemplate their sins and though it was shameful for Chelsea to admit, on more than half of those occasions it was her. Alice was a not so close second, but even Aunt Sarah was not immune.
Chelsea had to admit that it was an effective punishment as generally where she could shrug off most spankings, even at the best of times the shame and embarrassment of the gown was a hard time. With three visitors in the house, including two men and a girl she was at college with, this was hardly the best of times.
"Please, please, please let me die now," she prayed, but answer came there none. "Shit."
The gown itself was a simple grey smock that was fully open at the back from the waist down. On reaching a marriageable age, most women had to go through the thoroughly embarrassing experience of going to the town dress-maker for a fitting and since the gown was worn without any underwear at all, that in itself was a trying experience.
Chelsea had to admit that it would not be her first sojourn in the gown while they had visitors, but it was rare enough and almost always in the past it had been in front of Sarah's female friends or her own. In fact the only time she had had a more humiliating episode had been when she had spent an afternoon amusing Alice and her friends while she awaited a particularly stiff slice of pain from Uncle Sedge.
A movement on the stairs outside told her someone was coming to see where she had got to. If it were her aunt or Uncle Sedge, then she had better be in the gown by the time they came to fetch her.
Snatching up the dress, Chelsea slipped it over her head and pulled her arms through the long sleeves. Then she began working the buttons in front from the waist to her neck so that the whole thing fit snug and modestly to her upper body. The skirts of the dress then hung in expansive folds over legs in front and all the way down to her ankles.
From the front she would appear as respectable enough to make any grandmother proud. Only from the back was the exposure obvious.
"Chelsea," Alice called.
Chelsea relaxed a little. No doubt Alice hadn't entered in case she was questioned as to whether Chelsea had been ready when she was fetched. Good girl, Chelsea thought. Abusing the ritual by stalling was another sin and would demand extra punishment.
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