The Colonel by Matthew Silk with Illustrations by Paula Meadows

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The Colonel by Matthew Silk

Illustrations by Paula Meadows from Februs 34

Steve and Avril stood in awe looking at the impressive Queen Anne style mansion before them. It could have come straight out of the pages of Country Life. Avril felt the breeze blow through her blonde permed hair. It really was a beautiful English summer afternoon, just perfect for naturists.

They stood for a moment listening to the quiet of the countryside. In the far distance they could just hear the sound of shouting and splashing round a swimming pool.

'Sounds like they're having fun. Come on,' Steve said.

Avril held Steve's hand. He was ten years older than her, a tall, strong bronzed man, with a fit athletic body he kept toned in the gym.

The house was surrounded by a high old brick wall covered with climbing roses. They walked through a large cast iron gateway with two carved stone lions on either side. A brass nameplate announced: Eden House.

On both sides of them were formal lawns with statues of naked women with neat polished buttocks, but the rest of the grounds were hidden by high trimmed yew hedges.

They crunched across the gravel to the white front door. Steve squeezed Avril's hand encouragingly then rang the brass bell.

It was opened by a small wiry woman in her fifties with her greying hair tied tightly in schoolmarm fashion. She was completely nude. Avril recognised her immediately from the statues on the lawn behind her.

'Come in,' she said in a clipped upper class accent closing the door behind them. 'The Colonel is expecting you. I'm his wife, Barbara.'

She held out her hand. They both shook it feeling a little awkward being clothed while she was naked.

They followed her neat buttocks down the polished wooden corridor. The house had the atmosphere of faded riches. Portraits of landscapes and military men hung on the walls in gilt frames and the rooms were furnished with antiques, mostly in need of restoration.

They stopped in front of an oak door and Barbara knocked. There was a muffled sound from within. She opened the door and ushered them in.

'Charles, this is Steve and Avril.'

The Colonel rose from his desk in a thick cloud of acrid cigar smoke. He was a squat portly bear of a man with a wide moustache tinged with nicotine. Grey arid ginger hairs covered his flabby chest and large belly. He was also completely nude.

'Come in,' he boomed, 'take a seat.'

His wife withdrew while the Colonel sat his ample bottom down heavily on his leather chair and opened their file on his desk shrouding them both in smoke.

Avril looked round the study. It had a shabby, lived in feel, like the Colonel. The floor was covered in a thread-bare turkish carpet. Bookcases lined the walls.

There were also dozens of photographs. In one above the mantelpiece she saw the Colonel, much younger and slimmer, standing with an African tribal chief who was holding a long bullwhip. Next to him were a line of village girls, their hands on their bottoms, all grinning. Below the picture the same whip, frayed and tatty, was draped across two brass hooks.

'So you're both naturists,' the Colonel said examining them.

'Yes,' said Steve. 'Avril has been a naturist most of her life and introduced me to it.'

'And how did you find us?'

'I saw your advert in a naturist magazine.'

Steve could remember it now: 'CP NATURISTS. For those who believe in tile freedom and equality of naturism backed by the discipline of corporal punishment. For obvious reasons adults only.'

'Good,' puffed the Colonel. 'What about the CP?'

'Ah. I introduced Avril to that.'

'Is that right m'dear?' the Colonel looked straight at Avril for the first time. His sharp blue eyes were friendly but seemed to pierce through her.

She nodded nervously. She had never told a living soul before what she allowed Steve to do to her.

'Ever been spanked in front of other people?'

She shook her head firmly. 'No.'

'Pity,' the Colonel growled contemptuously. 'You would not think yourself a naturist if you only ever took your clothes off at home by yourself would you? Why should you think CP is any different?'

Avril felt rebuked and blushed under his glare.

'When was the last time you were spanked m'dear?' The Colonel's eyes were kind again.

'Er, about a week ago.' She fiddled nervously with her fingers on her lap embarrassed by having to confess her secrets. 'And when were you last caned?' he persisted.

'Er, longer, about a month, I think.' She looked at Steve for confirmation and he nodded.

'Hmm,' the Colonel snorted disapproving again. 'You should know exactly. "Six strokes across my bare bottom. June 17. Sir!" Like that. And sit up straight. I don't like slouchers in my study.'

Avril straightened her back while the Colonel closed the file and took another puff on his cigar.

'Right, let me tell you about us. Naturism and CP have always been my twin passions. It seems to me they are quite closely related. Both believe in truth, openness, being honest with ourselves, overcoming our inhibitions and being treated equally. It doesn't matter if you're a duchess or a dustman everyone is treated the same here.'

He leaned back expansively. 'We are a community. We believe naturism and discipline are not just pastimes but a way of life.

'Outside in textileland you are taught to conceal everything, keep yourself separate, distrust others. Every day brings a confusing debate on how much you should expose of yourself. Here, it's different.

'Here, because everyone is equal, everything is shared, nothing is hidden. When you break the rules you will be whipped in front of everybody with the beestinger.'

He swivelled round and directed Avril's eyes toward the whip above the mantelpiece. 'That's the beestinger m'dear,' he said proudly. 'Let me introduce you.'

He walked over to the wall and reverantly took down the heavy leather whip from its hooks and brought it over to Avril.

She took it and held it while he stood over her. It was thick but soft to hold. The leather was brown and frayed and had been stitched and patched in places. Tufts of hair protruded from the end rather like the hair in the colonel's nostrils.

'The beestinger's been leaving his mark on bottoms for more than 50 years m'dear. He may look old and soft like me but don't be deceived, there's still life in the old dog yet!'

He winked as he took it off her and returned it reverantly to the hooks on the wall.

'Right, let's get you undressed. I'll explain the rules as I show you round.'

'I was going to ask you about the rules. Have you got a copy?' Avril asked.

'No m'dear.'

'Then how do we know if we have broken them?'

'When you are bent over in front of the whole camp and the beestinger's thrashing that pretty little backside of yours m'dear. That should provide you with a jolly big clue.' The Colonel guffawed loudly leaving Avril feeling foolish.

He led them to changing rooms where they put their clothes in lockers. As they emerged the Colonel looked Avril up and down, inspecting her before giving a grunt of approval.

'Hmm, trim little thing aren't you? A bit like the wife. I like that. Rather sexy.'

Avril didn't know what to say.

* * *

He led them outside into the bright sunshine. The Colonel stomped across the lawns, his stubby legs pounding the ground. Avril imagined he would have sex in the same short, vigorous manner.

He led them to the swimming pool where there was much shrieking and laughing. About a dozen people were standing in a circle throwing a large ball to each other. A petite older woman with short dark hair dropped it and everyone shouted: 'Third time, third time.'

Blushing and grinning she waded into the centre of the circle and picked up a floating flip flop.

As the crowd cheered she swam over to the steps and climbed naked and dripping out of the pool. She walked up to the colonel and curtsied. She was about Steve's age.

'Colonel do you want to spank me?' she asked smiling.

He beamed at her. 'On this occasion m'dear I shall reluctantly decline. However I am sure my friend here will oblige.' He pointed toward Steve.

'Certainly,' Steve said eagerly taking the flip flop from her offered hand.

She led him down the side of the pool and climbed up to the top diving board. She placed her feet on the edge as if she was going to dive. Then she bent over, confidently stretching to clasp the back of her ankles with her hands keeping her legs straight.

'She has to take 12 without falling into the pool,' the Colonel explained to Avril.

She looked up at Steve. Avril had never seen another woman bending over for him before. He looked impressively fit and masterful standing over the woman.

He raised his arm high and spanked her hard. The flip flop made a solid whapp sound as it connected with her behind and her head bobbed up in surprise. Her fellow swimmers were delighted at the effect on her and chanted 'one.'

Steve took careful aim and spanked her again. The woman's knees bent slightly in response, the slap of the flip flop on her rear reporting like a pistol shot across the water.

Steve now found his range and she began to shift uncomfortably with each fresh smack. Her face coloured and her grin began to look forced. The swimmers cheered Steve on as they sensed her growing unease. Steve, invigorated by their support, took deliberate aim and spanked her even harder. She wobbled, her hands slipping slightly on her legs as her toes scrabbled for balance on the edge of the board.

Steve swung his arm swiftly down again, spanking her where her cheeks were already red. She swayed forward almost toppling. It was desperately close but she clung on.

But Steve sensed his victory and quickly spanked her again, allowing her no respite. This time he got her. Her hands broke free from her ankles and skimmed up the back of her legs tipping her forward off balance. She let out a despairing cry as she toppled over the edge and plunged ignominiously into the water with a loud splash. The crowd erupted with whooping shouts of triumph.

The woman surfaced, swam to the side and climbed back up to Steve dripping wet and blushing with the humiliation of her failure. He ordered her curtly to bend over again.

'Give her six extra this time,' the Colonel shouted. 'And if you fall this time m'dear it's the birch.'

The threat concentrated her mind. Despite a number of wobbles, she managed to take all 18 with impressive resilience. When it was over she gratefully grabbed the flip flop and dived into the pool rejoining the others who applauded her all the way back.

The Colonel gave a shuddering sigh of pleasure and gave Avril a lecherous look. 'Nothing like a spanking for stirring the loins eh? Pity she didn't fall though. I was looking forward to giving her a good birching. Come on. I'll show you our birching tree.'

* * *

He led them across the lawns and down woodland paths until they came to a large oak tree in a clearing. It had spikes driven all round its trunk and a wooden board around the base. Four well worn paths ran away from the tree and at the end of each was a barrel containing birches.

'We have barbecues down here sometimes on summer evenings. But you can come down and stand by the tree anytime m'dear if you want your bottom warmed, there'll always be someone along to oblige. And there's plenty of hollows and bushes around where you can have a jolly good rogering after you've had your backside tanned.' He winked at her outrageously.

'Right, time to split up I think. We like new couples to separate, it helps them to mix in. Come on Steve, I'll show you the rest of the woods.'

They walked off and suddenly Avril was left alone. She moved away from the tree in case anyone thought she was wanted to be birched and 'rogered' and made her way back to the lawns.

There she watched a game of mini-ten, the naturist tennis game for half an hour. No-one asked her to join in so she moved away to a large group of male and female wrestlers on mats. She began to relax, happy to be left alone so she could just observe.

She left the wrestlers and saw Steve by the swimming pool so she moved away to watch a group of gymnasts unselfconsciously performing handstands, stretching and pirouetting on bars and mats.

Eventually she made her way round the back of the house and came across a volleyball game. The ball bounced toward her across a vegetable patch and nestled against a hedge. A tall Scandinavian girl called out to her: 'Can we have our ball back please?'

The other players giggled.

'Oh certainly,' said Avril, glad to be joining in at last. She stepped across the vegetable patch and picked up the ball. It was only after she threw it back she knew something was terribly wrong. The players were staring at her in astonishment.

At that moment the Colonel's wife flung open an upstairs window. 'Just what the HELL do you think you are doing,' she shouted.

'Those are my prize vegetables you have just trampled on you wretched girl. Didn't you see the sign?'

Avril felt a terrible gaping emptiness in her stomach and saw with horror a small sign in the corner of the plot with KEEP OFF clearly written on it.

'Report to the study at once.' She slammed the window shut.

Avril looked appealingly at the volleyball players but they shrugged and turned away. She began to walk towards the study feeling more naked and alone than she had ever felt in her life. She wished Steve were there to protect her.

She stood trembling in front of the oak study door, her heart pounding in her chest and knocked. The Colonel summoned her.

He was standing by the mantelpiece. 'Well, m'dear that didn't take long,' he beamed.

He sat down on a straight-backed chair facing her with open legs.

'You will be whipped at the tea rooms at 4pm. Barbara, you tell everybody. In the meantime, until they are ready for us I'm afraid I can't resist spanking that trim little backside of yours m'dear. Come here.' He slapped his thighs with his hands.

He was like a powerful magnet drawing her toward him. She edged forward until she was standing between his open legs his balls hanging down loose like two bells. He grasped her hand firmly and pulled her onto his plump hairy thigh, almost winding her. Instantly his other leg clamped her heavily across the back of her legs, rendering her helpless. His belly bulged out so far there was barely room for her to lie. She put her hand out on the carpet to steady herself but his hand slapped the back of her neck forcing her head down so low her nose was almost touching the floor.

He pulled her in toward him so his flabby stomach was pressing into her side. He rested his large podgy hand on her raised buttocks, his thumb pressed into the crevice between her cheeks.

He lifted his hand and spanked her with a stinging clap. She yelped at the sharp impact and tried to lift her head but his fingers dug into her scalp forcing her head down. She tried to kick her legs but she couldn't budge an inch, so tightly was she clamped.

'You're a real wriggler, like a little fish aren't you?' the Colonel said. He seemed to be enjoying wrestling with her as she struggled over his lap, rubbing her belly on his rough thigh.

The Colonel's hand clapped her again on the other cheek and then again and again, repeating the smacks with exuberance, building the heat. She squirmed and twisted but only succeeded in rubbing herself against him even more which made him grunt with pleasure. Nothing she did could prevent the heavy smacks of his hand stinging her burning bottom as she bounced and jiggled on his big hairy thighs.

The Colonel began to wheeze and puff like an old boiler, his stomach heaving against her, as his arm rose and fell relentlessly like a piston stoking up the fires hotter and hotter across her firm bouncing cheeks while she jerked and gasped and cried under the onslaught.

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The ringing claps on her behind, his shouted orders to her to keep still and her begging pleas were loud enough to be heard across the lawns where people were already beginning to gather for her whipping.

He carried on, working up a head of steam until her bottom felt like a furnace his hand pumping and pounding faster and faster until at last he stopped and all was quiet apart from her shocked whimpering as she squirmed uncomfortably on his thigh, her behind ablaze.

His leg released her and she stretched with relief, but made no attempt to get off, content to lie where she was.

'Well you've obviously been spanked before m'dear. Good. That'll stand you in good stead for the beestinger.' He patted her bottom and grunted with pleasure.

He let her lie over his thigh while she recovered and then lifted her off and collected the beestinger from the wall.

'I'll make sure they are ready. Follow me in five minutes.'

He left her alone in the study, her bottom tingling from the spanking he had given her. Strangely, she felt less intimidated by him now he had spanked her than she did before. She spent the time looking at the pictures of the tribal girls grinning at the bullwhip. Why were they grinning?

* * *

She left the study and walked out of the back door and across the lawns. The grounds were eerily deserted and silent.

And then she saw them.

They were standing three and four deep in a wide circle outside the tea pavilion their buttocks of all shapes and sizes facing her. The excited buzz of their conversation hummed across the lawns becoming louder the closer she got to them.

They were tightly packed, too animated to notice her as she approached. She tried to find a gap but couldn't. She had to prise them against their combined weight. Eventually she reached the front and the bodies instantly closed behind her.

Inside the circle it was a cauldron of heat and loud expectancy. The picnic tables had been cleared aside except for one in the centre where the Colonel was standing with the beestinger in his hands.

He did not see her at first. She walked slowly toward him, feeling her perspiration pricking her skin, while behind her the crowd hushed as they realised this frail and vulnerable looking blonde girl was the one they had come to see whipped.

She stopped, wiping the sweat from her face. The Colonel turned round. 'Ah m'dear, you are here. Now before we begin I'd like everyone to have a good look at you as this is your first day. Walk slowly around the circle if you will.'

She just wanted to get the whipping over but, of course, he knew that. She turned, blushing self-consciously, and walked close to the crowd. She'd never faced such public humiliation before. Everywhere she looked someone was staring back at some part of her. The swimming pool gang were the worst. They smirked and rubbed their bottoms teasingly as she passed.

She looked in vain for Steve. Where on earth was he? He must be somewhere in the sea of faces but she could not pick him out. She desperately needed his support.

After two full circles of almost unbearable embarrassment under the intense examination of the crowd, the Colonel called her to him.

'The punishment you are about to receive m'dear is the same one anyone else here would get for the same breach of the rules. The property and grounds must be respected at all times. The fact that this is your first day should not lead you to expect any kind of leniency. Now get yourself over the table, legs inside the bench and feet nice and wide apart please.'

She scrambled awkwardly over the seat and rested her forearms on the hot table top, her bottom facing out, her cheeks drawn open. Her legs were pinned between the table and seat the rough edges of both pressed into her thighs and the back of her legs.

The colonel walked round in front of her and picked up a cigar from the table top.

'We have a tradition here m'dear. A whipping lasts as long as it takes for me to smoke one of my special cigars here.'

The crowd smiled knowingly as he lit the long fat cigar over her with great ceremony. He puffed it a couple of times to get it going and walked slowly behind her unfurling the beestinger with relish.

The spectators settled, her nervousness increasing as they quietened. They seemed to have edged closer in their eagerness to miss nothing. Wisps of aromatic smoke from the Colonel's cigar drifted over her as the hot afternoon sun beat down on her back. Even the breeze seemed to have stilled, creating a quiet intense calm.

She was aware of him steadying himself, unfurling and flicking the beestinger behind her. She tried to remain as motionless as she could but it wasn't easy.

There was a terrible pause in which nothing happened at all, then she heard the beestinger being flipped back and the fearful buzz of its descent as it hummed through the air. She was up on her toes, body taut even before it ripped across her rear, almost lifting her off her feet. She was bolted forward, her body thumping against the table only her trapped legs holding her back.

A thousand stings swarmed across her behind in deafening harmony, rising beyond her wildest expectations.

The swimming pool gang directly behind her whooped with delight as the beestinger's army of demons poured through her, invading every part of her, dancing through her in triumph.

She screamed and bucked helplessly in the vice like grip of the table while the Colonel stood calmly behind her, taking the occasional puff on his cigar, observing her.

When he judged she was ready he gathered the beestinger again. The crowd murmured in excited anticipation.

The whip hurtled down, streaking across her buttocks a second time taking her beyond her own control as she tried in vain to twist her torso away from its agony.

The Colonel strode around the crowd puffing on his cigar a gleam in his eye as he watched her tossing and turning on the table top struggling to free herself from the beestinger's vicious grip.

He took his time, knowing the weals were doing their work, discussing her with members of the crowd before taking up station behind her again. She braced herself grasping the table edge with her outstretched arms.

The heavy leather swooped down like some giant beast and slammed into her, whipping around her flanks, exposing everything within her to the outside. She heard people spontaneously applauding as she struggled to meet its demands.

Sweat trickled down her face and neck. The table was wet where her damp belly had slithered over it. Three thick welts, raw and swollen, clawed at her behind.

The beestinger lashed her again, spreadeagling her over the table, laying another band of agony across her rear. She cried out, opening her lungs, her arms, her legs... laying herself bare before them.

As she looked up she saw the Colonel's cigar was barely a quarter smoked.

Steve emerged from the wood with the woman from the swimming pool. Fresh birch marks were swathed across her buttocks and thighs.

He saw the crowd packed around the tea pavilion and heard the strike of the whip followed instantly by a woman's unrestrained soaring high into the trees. He climbed onto a bench and was amazed at the sight which greeted him.

Avril lay sprawled over the table, at least a dozen raw stripes slanted across her slim buttocks and thighs.

'Avvy,' he cried out.

An elderly gentleman in front of him turned round. 'Do you know her? I say you're a lucky chap. No-one knew who she was. She's a real little Peach. She's really showing us what she's made of now she's got the hang of it. She's certainly brought a twinkle back to the Colonel's eye. I haven't seen the old boy in such good form for ages.'

The Colonel was striding around the circle like a ringmaster, Avril's eyes following him as if mesmerised, totally absorbed by him. As he walked behind her, her bottom lifted in invitation.

The Colonel raised an eyebrow, smiled and stopped.

'Is that another invitation m'dear? There's no stopping you now is there? Very well.' He clamped the cigar between his teeth and swung the beestinger high behind her whipping it down in a looping arc across her backside. It seemed to cling to her for several moments before dancing back to its master, leaving her stretched and prostrate over the table, another thick band added to the others already covering her buttocks and thighs.

The old gentleman turned back to Steve. 'You've got to hand it to the Colonel. He's got an uncanny knack of bringing a girl out of herself. I thought he'd got it wrong when I saw this one; we all did. But look at her now, a real poppet. He knows more about these girls than they know about themselves.'

They watched the Colonel, the stub of the cigar in his mouth, parading around the circle until he was behind Avril again. He didn't wait for an invitation this time but whipped her again full square across her presented rear.

She arched round and saw Steve for the first time and grinned. She had nothing left to hide, nothing to conceal, nothing to be ashamed of anymore.

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Artwork by Lynn Paula Russell aka Paula Meadows can be purchased on the Talisman Fine Art website.