The Disciplined Women of Chapel Island Read online

  The Disciplined Women of Chapel Island

  by

  Susan Thomas

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © September 2014 by Susan Thomas

  Published by LSF Publications

  http://www.lsfpublications.com/

  Cover design by Nathaniel Scott.

  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. It includes adult spanking and some sexual scenes. Any resemblance to actual persons, places or events are purely coincidental.

  When 18-year-old Kate and her wealthy parents make yet another house move, this time to their luxury new home on Chapel Island, Kate senses from the outset that there is something both mysterious and exciting about the place. The island is beautiful, though somewhat unusual in that it has its own currency and a police and security force known as The Guardians - and it isn't long before Kate has her first encounter with them. Whilst exploring on her bicycle, she narrowly avoids colliding with a golf cart (the mode of transport on the island) and is later questioned by two Guardians who tell her that her mother will be informed.

  Subsequently, Kate is puzzled when she notices that her mother has to go out and pay some kind of penalty, and on returning home is taken by her husband to his study where she later emerges rubbing her bottom. Kate's curiosity deepens and she follows her mother to the Accountability Suite in the House of the Guardians. As a result of Kate's investigations, she discovers that domestic discipline and corporal punishment are an accepted way of life on the island - and the reason Kate's parents chose to reside here. Under this regime, many infractions are dealt with publicly with all manner of spanking implements.

  This is a rite of passage for Kate, who discovers that the ritual of such punishments excites her, and that excitement is carried through to her intimate relationships. When she breaks the rules, she is up for correction, and joins the other island women on stage, all naked and waiting for their punishment, which is often severe. But she is still inquisitive and discovers there is much subterfuge going on, with hidden cameras in her home. Why is she being spied on? Who can she trust? And who are 'The Five' who have control of everything that happens on Chapel Island? She finds out eventually, and becomes empowered...

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Also by Susan Thomas...

  Prologue

  It had been a glittering occasion: the ballroom magnificent; the band had played wonderful music; and the diners, dressed in the finest evening wear, had behaved graciously. The dinner had been to its usual high standard; the dancing had been enjoyable and as a result there were sparkling eyes and flushed faces everywhere. Having played for the last dance the band had remained to provide some musical accompaniment to the closing treat of the evening.

  A few chairs that had been occupied as courses were served were now empty, and although the last drinks had been served to the diners, the waitresses and waiters had not left but stood in neat lines at the back.

  Then the lights dimmed on all, including the band, but one stage is now lit up and onto it comes a man. He is rather typical of the type who at functions makes a windy speech and introduces the main speaker; he has clearly enjoyed many a banquet and his face is rather flushed, but surprisingly he is brief and to the point.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time for Accountability."

  The applause is enthusiastic. The waiters look excited but the waitresses rather less so, grinning nervously at each other and perhaps trying to stop a giggle or two.

  Two waiters come in from one side pushing a strange device on wheels. It is upright like a portable display board with a roulette-type wheel on it that clearly is intended to be spun, stopping at one of a number of places. From the other direction comes another contraption carried by two waiters. It is a spanking bench. The low platform at the front is to kneel on, there is an angled riser and the top platform slopes downwards allowing the person kneeling to bend over, their upper body angling down to become lower than their bottom.

  The excitement is clearly building as onto the stage, with musical accompaniment by the band, come six naked women; their ages range from early twenties to mid-forties. They are of course the usual range of body types with the forty-something woman voluptuous while the one in her early twenties is slim with small breasts. The younger one looks very nervous and embarrassed but the older one looks quite comfortable, acknowledging the applause at their entry with a smile and wave.

  "As you will know Ladies and Gentlemen, all these ladies have received penalties for some breach of our rules. They have already been chastised twice of course but third time pays all and this is to ensure that you all see and know justice has been done."

  A ripple of amusement greets those last words of his but he continues unabashed, his face gleaming with the good food, alcohol and the heat of the lights on him.

  "We have, in order of the number of penalties, Michelle Riley with one penalty which is her very first since becoming a member."

  The young nervous woman steps forward looking even more embarrassed. A voice calls out from the audience that she just hadn't been caught before. There is no laughter but murmurs of disapproval, and the compère gestures and a spotlight turns on the culprit.

  "You sir, have been vulgar."

  The culprit stands. "I apologise unreservedly to you Michelle, and to all you ladies and gentlemen."

  The compère continues. "Jane Spence, also with one penalty; Emma Freckleton, with two penalties, also making her first appearance at Accountability..." There is applause and Emma who looks around forty, though with a stunning figure, steps forward to acknowledge the applause but looks as nervous as Michelle. "...Mary Sinclair, with three penalties; Dita Pawlak, with three penalties; and Aileen Dunbar with five penalties. Each penalty earning our miscreant," he rolls the word miscreant around as if it was a delicious titbit, "two strokes."

  A murmur of amusement ripples through the audience for this older voluptuous woman is clearly a favourite with the audience. She grins ruefully at the thought of five but doesn't seem to be fearful. The compère explains the wheel (though it is probably unnecessary for this audience but they hear him out) is spun to decide on the instrument to be used. It is now clear to one particularly young and nervous waitress at the back that each of the women is about to be chastised and her eyes have grown wide at the prospect. The young waitress can see the choices. There is 'CANE', the mere thought of that frightens her; 'STRAP' which also sounds nasty; 'MARTINET', but she doesn't know what that is; 'PADDLE' also is puzzling; and 'BIRCH' which she knows from her history lessons at school.

  The slim Michelle is now looking even more nervous and finding her public nudity very uncomfortable, but when the compère tells her to take her place on the bench, she does not hesitate but steps up and kneeling on the bench leans right over. On the far side there is a bar t
o hold on to but the diners cannot see her grip it tightly. Her slim body and shapely bottom look perfect under the spotlight and there is a great interest in this her first public punishment.

  The compère spins the instrument wheel which revolves easily and as it slows there is increasing tension. The diners want the birch and it looks as if it will be so, but the wheel just carries onto the cane. The ballroom is filled for a moment with a mixture of laughter and groans as the compère announces it will be the cane, but it is silenced as a burly Guardian in his smart black uniform marches on carrying the cane. The band accompanies his entrance to add to the drama.

  It is no thin whippy thing that cane, but a beast of a cane, a brute. He wastes no time at all but steps into position behind Michelle's fair bottom and with practised ease raises the cane high above and behind his head to bring it down on her bottom with a final wicked flick of the wrist. The crack of the cane on her bare bottom is heard clearly right around the ballroom. The young nervous waitress flinches as the crack and Michelle's loud cry fills the hall. The huge welt that rises almost instantly across her bottom shows the skill of the Guardian but already his second stroke powers down towards her bottom and there is another screech as it buries itself in the beautiful cheeks. He then turns and marches smartly off while Michelle stands slowly craning her head around to examine the horrible welts. Now she has to turn and face the audience and as they cheer she gives a weak grin and walks unsteadily back to the line. The audience applaud her.

  "Well done Michelle." The compère is pompous. "A very well taken first caning and an excellent introduction to our Accountability session."

  The audience notice that Michelle keeps craning around to look at her bottom and touch the welts. They find this amusing in a kindly way and several give her thumbs up which result in another weak smile though now she looks much happier.

  Jane is next. She doesn't look especially nervous and takes her two with the wheel-selected strap very well. The young nervous waitress at the back wonders why the Guardian goes off every time and marches back in but she can see the audience like the drama of it. Emma gets four, also with the cane and clearly it hurts greatly for when she gets back in line she clutches her bottom the whole time. Mary gets six with the paddle which to our young waitress looks just like a cricket bat. Mary sobs at the first swat and does not take the next five stoically. Then Dita howls and sobs throughout her six with the cane.

  The compère makes a joke about the wheel seeming to favour the cane this evening and Aileen is looking positively cheeky and making faces as the wheel turns around and around and a soft chant of "birch, birch" can be heard from the audience. The waitress notices that the women in the audience are just as anxious as the men for the birch to be applied to Aileen. There is huge applause when finally the wheel comes to rest on 'BIRCH' and Aileen creates laughter with her pantomime of fear and despair. She doesn't seem fearful as she makes her way to the bench and takes her position, although she grips the bar tightly and pulls a face at the thought of ten with the birch.

  The young nervous waitress watches carefully as the Guardian comes back on, this time with a bucket containing the birch rod. She is intrigued but also frightened as if she was up on stage. The rod is made from a dozen or more thin whippy birch shoots. One end is bound into a long handle, perhaps two or three feet which gives it extra whipping power and a shorter spray at the other end of about a foot in diameter. The Guardian, whose face is impassive and with a back like a ram-rod, removes the birch and makes a show of swishing it through the air to remove the water. The waitress does not know that it is actually brine that the birch sat in.

  The guardian steps into position and the waitress sees that he is going to give a powerful blow. It moves more slowly through the air because of the wind resistance and the nasty swishing can be heard clearly around the room for all are holding their breath. There is a strange 'shrack' sound as the birch wraps itself around her bottom leaving behind a nasty rash-like mark. Aileen lets out a restrained "Oooh" sound and the audience smile at it. They are all now leaning forward in their chairs watching intently.

  The compère keeps count as the Guardian swishes the birch downwards crashing it against her bottom. Her cry is now shriller and louder, and she wriggles on the bench.

  Shrack! Shrack!

  At each lash of the birch rod her cry becomes louder and more desperate and her wriggling bottom is angry with its rash-like marks; the rash covers the whole of her generous bottom and around onto her right hip. The audience is delighted as pieces of the birch fly around and Aileen's cries grow shriller.

  Shrack! Shrack! Shrack!

  As the seventh stroke crashes down onto her bottom Aileen bucks on the bench and the Guardian has to pause as she resettles herself into the submissive position needed for her whipping. The audience loves it and there is scattered applause when it happens.

  Shrack! Shrack! The birch flays down onto her bottom. Now Aileen is writhing at each blow and her cries are shrill.

  "Last one," calls the compère.

  Aileen seems to sag on the bench with relief but already the birch is swishing loudly through the air towards her well-marked bottom. The shrack sound seems louder this time but perhaps it is because the audience has gone very still and is holding its collective breath. Aileen's head goes up and she yells out, "Bloody hell!"

  The audience laughs and when Aileen stands shakily up they applaud loudly some even standing to do so. The other naked women give her a hand and they all file off as the band plays, some waving at the audience who give them sustained applause.

  The young waitress turns to another one next to her. "Why do they do it?"

  The older woman looks at her. "How the hell would I know? Ask one of them if you dare."

  Chapter 1

  I remember vividly that day when I first saw Chapel Island. The sky was a dull grey and the wind blew strongly making the sea choppy; it should have been miserable but it lent a wild romance to the shape of the island. Leaning over the prow of the ferry I watched the island begin to take shape and felt a warm excitement grow in me. My parents were in the cabin. It was too windy and cold for them but I was enjoying the boat tossing up and down as we cut through the sea. They said it was to be our new home, one of many homes I might add, but had promised me faithfully that this was 'a final move, the last one'. I could sense there was something else. It was there in the strange looks they gave each other. It was in the half said sentences choked off as if they had been about to give something away. It was most definitely in my mother's ill-concealed excitement. Previously she had been weary of and cynical about my father's repeated moves to get ever better postings. I didn't know what they were hiding, but I knew I would have to find out.

  At the ferry there had been little leaflets for tourists who weren't allowed to visit the island but wanted to know about it. From them I learned that Chapel Island was the site of a small settlement in Celtic times but later uninhabited apart from a small colony of holy men who were highly regarded for miles around. These men lived in hovels but built the simple chapel for worship. Around the time of the dissolution of the monasteries, the small settlement of holy men seemed to have disappeared, and until the late nineteenth-century the island was used for grazing sheep managed only by a few shepherds. Then in 1870 Isaiah Clattenberry built himself a house known as Chapel Lodge on the proceeds of his then famous, Clattenberry's Relish. In 1990 the last of the Clattenberrys sold the land to the Chapel Island Partnership in order that the present exclusive private village be built.

  ---oOo---

  As we landed, we were greeted by the village secretary and I told her firmly my name was Kate, as my family still tended to call me Katie. I fully intended to change that in this new home. We were shown the clubhouse with ballroom, an open air and an indoor swimming pool, both full sized, plus gymnasium, saunas, steam rooms and Jacuzzis. There were the usual range of courts for playing such things as squash and tennis, restaurants, a small hotel
for guests, marina, cricket pitch with pavilion, and a driving range. I was impressed at the quality but given my dad's money, honestly, I was rather used to those kind of facilities.

  What impressed me more was that for my last year at school I would have to go across to the mainland on the little private ferry where a school mini-bus would pick me up. That was great but better was that when the sea was rough they had to have 'island days' and the school emailed some work. There were a huge range of activities for children but that did not impress me. I had just had my eighteenth birthday, having been born on the 2nd September, so although I was actually eighteen I still had that full year of school to finish

  My father was now at the top of his organisation and based only five short miles from the mainland ferry. The village owned a highly secure enclosed car park on the mainland. It had been cleverly built inside the shell of an old warehouse so didn't even look like one. It was manned 24/7 so he could jump off the ferry and go pick up his Bentley and go straight to work. On the island itself everyone used little golf carts and bicycles or simply walked.

  I loved Chapel Island from the first day I set foot on it. It has open areas, but also tall pines widely spread with sand dunes around most of the coast so that practically anywhere makes for a wonderful trip to the beach. Fertile land it isn't, which is presumably why it has always been shunned for settlement, but beautiful it is. None of the strange island sheep graze here now but the smell of the sea, the pines and the gorse merging into the meadows make it the most wonderful place on earth.

  Our new house was lovely to be sure, and my parents had at last got their wish and didn't so much have a bedroom as a suite - it was huge and cut off from everywhere else by the staircase and generous landing area. Not that I was jealous, it suited me they were more remote and I had a lovely room with a large bathroom of its own and guest bed too so I was quite happy. I was only too aware, in case you think me a spoiled brat, that I was a very lucky girl.