by Susan Thomas
The Devil Made Me Do It
In the corner of the churchyard, with a least another two hours work to do, Old Tom rested for a moment to watch Melanie Griffiths walking through. She didn't see him as he was partly hidden away in the shade, but he saw her alright. Every man in the village saw her; she was the girl of their dreams. Pretty in looks with a lovely figure, she had a lovely nature to go with it; sunny, happy and willing to help anyone at any time. Now she was wearing a summer dress that ended well above her knees making a feature of her perfect, long, summer-brown legs; the short sleeves made an equal picture of her arms while the thin dress allowed her bottom and breasts to be shown to their best advantage.
"I can't do it," he whispered.
"You must," the voice hissed in his ear. "Now is the perfect opportunity."
A weather-beaten man in late middle age but strong from a life time of manual work, he now moved quickly up behind Melanie, catching her just as she passed the bench with the inscription: In Memory of Giles Alexander who loved this spot. Seizing her and sitting on the bench, he flipped her over his knee, raised the short summer skirt and pulled down the lemon yellow knickers, exposing a perfect bottom, white against the light tan of her legs.
Now he hesitated at the sight of her bare bottom, not because Melanie's screams and cries were disturbing him, but because he knew he shouldn't be looking at her bare bottom, it just wasn't right.
"Spank her hard. Do it!" the voice hissed peremptorily in his ear.
Smack! His hand smacked down hard on her bottom, making it ripple and turn red. Melanie's yell of shock, anger and pain made his eardrums ache. His hand smacked down again and he lost his hesitation and reluctance in the sheer rhythm of spanking her pretty bottom. Poor Melanie, her struggles were in vain for he was a strong man and his work-worn calloused hand was very good at spanking her soft and tender rear. Smack! Smack! The sound of the spanking was eclipsed by her screams, wails and very soon her pleading.
"Oh stop. Stop, what have I done to you? Stop please stop. You're really hurting me."
The Rev. James Lundy had been in the church praying when the screaming started. He was earnestly at prayer because he was very shy with women and desperately wanted a wife. He really liked Melanie Griffiths, but every time he met her he became quite hot and bothered and lost the power of speech. Now the screams ended his prayers and he rushed from the church, wondering what was happening. He saw Old Tom, caretaker of the church hall and church handyman, with Melanie over his knee, her skirt up and her bottom bared, giving her a serious spanking. Her legs were kicking and she was screaming fit to bust. Her poor bottom was no longer white but a vivid shade of red and there was no sign of the spanking ending.
"Stop that immediately. Do you hear me? Stop!"
Old Tom stopped and released his grip on the girl. She immediately scrambled off his lap and began pulling her knickers up with a very red face. The Rev Lundy had a very brief glimpse of something he would really like to see a lot more of before the knickers and dress shut off his view.
"Stay where you are," was the command to Old Tom, "I am calling the police."
The vicar's mobile phone was actually in his hand when Melanie cried, "No please don't. It's all too embarrassing. Let's just forget it. I'm going home." With that, she ran off, her hands clasped to her delightful rear end.
Old Tom hung his head like a little boy while the young vicar told him off. Finally, when the vicar demanded an answer as to why, he stumbled out the words, "The Devil made me do it."
He was left in no doubt that that was not a sensible reply and nothing like that was ever to happen again. In her room, within her parent's house, Melanie examined her scalded bottom in the mirror and wondered just what the vicar had seen of her. Not that she minded too much what the vicar saw as he was muscular, attractive and really, she rather fancied him. The fact that he had never approached her made her wonder if he was gay.
The following day, Miss Amelia Prim, forty five years old and spinster of this parish, arrived in the ancient church to arrange the flowers. She lacked flair but was reliable and tidy, and what can you expect in a small village? Miss Prim wore clothes more suited to the fifties than the twenty first century and in fact regretted that things were not still that way, though she had not even been born then. She lived with her elderly and increasingly dependent parents, and was as prim in her manner as she was by name.
Miss Prim was not aware of Old Tom in the church, and the first she knew of his presence was when she felt herself seized in an iron grip and pulled across the knee of the handyman who had sat himself upon the front pew. She was so surprised that she made no sound when her skirt was lifted, but when the underlying slip was raised she let out a scream of horror. Old Tom himself let out a gasp for Miss Prim's knickers were a revelation. They were scarlet silk French knickers of a particularly fancy style and clearly very expensive. He admired them for a moment before tugging them down accompanied by Miss Prim's ear-splitting screams.
The spanking was hard and of some considerable length giving Miss Prim quite a lot to scream about. The vicar finally heard her distress and ran to her rescue faster than he could ever recall running before. When he finally arrived, the poor woman was in a terrible state of distress, her face, bottom and knickers a similar shade of scarlet. So distressed was she, that when finally released she had difficulty hauling her knickers up to protect her modesty, and the men were treated to the amazing sight of the prim Miss Prim's scarlet French knickers, which must have been the best kept secret in the village.
When the young vicar finally reached for his mobile phone to summon the local constabulary, Miss Prim spotted it and snarled, "Don't you dare you... you... you man you. How dare you. This is never to be spoken of, ever. I am going home. Get someone else to do the flowers."
Before the vicar could say a word, Old Tom protested, "It's not my fault vicar. The Devil made me do it."
The vicar, his mind still reeling from the sight of Melanie's bottom (and other things) and the revelation that Miss Prim wore fancy red knickers, could say nothing other than to mutter darkly that it must never happen again. The next day, the Rev Lundy watched Old Tom from a distance, but the Devil evidently said nothing to him, for many female villagers came within his reach but remained unspanked. Relaxing a little on the following day, the vicar retired to his study to write his Sunday sermon; the fact that the memory of Melanie's delightful bottom kept intruding on his thoughts delayed the process, and he still hadn't finished when an outraged cry penetrated his study.
"You brute! Stop that immediately."
James Lundy knew that voice; it was Mrs Craddock, the head teacher of the village primary school and a lady formidable in character. She terrified the children, the teachers, the parents and as James was by default Chairman of the Governors, she also terrified him. He did not immediately go to her rescue for, I am sad to say, his Christianity failed him and he took his time. When he arrived, Old Tom was sitting on the other churchyard bench with the skinny Mrs Craddock over his knee. Her trousers and knickers were down and her small thin bottom was now a violent shade of red and getting worse for he was spanking lustily.
Mrs Cradock had passed from outrage to dire threats to sobbing helplessly as her bottom turned to fire. The Rev Lundy arrived and, in as near to an outraged voice as he could manage, demanded that Old Tom desist. The caretaker obediently stopped spanking the head teacher and she struggled to her feet, pulling her trousers and knickers up, wincing as they rubbed against her sore bottom.
"Stand right there, Tom, while I call for the police. You have gone far too far."
Mrs Craddock turned around, her face wet with tears and shouted at James Lundy, "Don't you dare! It will make me a laughing stock. I'd never live it down."
Suddenly, the vicar saw an opportunity to gain the upper hand on the governing body. "Oh well I don't know about that. This is a most serious assault. Really the police should be called."
"I don't want you to do that."
"Yes, well, as a man of the cloth I see it as my duty. I cannot in all conscience allow this to go by."
Mrs Craddock looked as if she was about to launch into one of her tirades, but then it dawned on her that perhaps that was not the wisest course of action.
"Please vicar... James. Surely you can see how this would be seen by the children and parents."
"I do see that, of course, but really my position as vicar and Chairman of Governors requires me to be scrupulously honest in all my dealings."
"James, surely for me... we do have to work in close cooperation and you know you can always count on me for support."
Old Tom watched the exchange of power with an appreciative eye. His respect for the vicar went right up when he saw how the man had taken advantage of the situation. He even congratulated the Rev Lundy when Mrs Craddock had departed.
"This can't go on, Tom." The vicar was mild but firm.
"It's the Devil, vicar. He made me do it."
"Yes, Tom, the Apostle Peter does tell us that Satan is like a roaring lion, prowling around looking for someone to devour..."
"That's it vicar... that's why I 'as to do what he says."
"...but the Apostle James tells us that if we oppose him he will flee from us. Oppose him, Tom... oppose him. Anyway, I must consider what I am to do for this cannot go on."
Old Tom watched the vicar walk away and thought he really didn't know much about the Devil if he thought he would flee just because you told him to get lost. Back in his study, James Lundy gave considerable thought to the problem of his spanking caretaker, and began making a series of very useful 'phone calls. At one point he nipped out and, using a telephoto lens, took some photos of Old Tom at work. However, it was the next day before he got answers and, satisfied with his solution, he went out to look for Old Tom. The man was repairing the churchyard gate. He had stopped as a young woman walked along, her tight shorts, long legs, bare midriff and a tight top making her easy to watch.
"Don't even think about spanking her."
"No it's alright vicar, the Devil is quiet about her."
They watched together for a moment or two in quiet appreciation. Her ears were plugged in to an iPod and she was texting someone. James thought it sad that she should choose the virtual world rather than the beautiful real one basking, as it was, in summer sunshine.
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