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@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ BLAZING BAPTISTS A novel by Alan de Veaux@END_FILE_ID.DIZ Chapter 1: Monday Morning Framed in the multipane window of Dr. Fenwick's study, the scene was prettier than a painting. The Indiana farms defined by split rail fences put there by God-fearing people many years ago spoke of the order of Jefferson County. Middleburg's pastor was taking a quiet moment. Monday mornings were quiet with time for reflection and planning. A day alone, no secretary, he can think about the week that was and the one to be, but why did young Mrs. Brown wants to see him privately? The strain in her voice was clear when she asked for the appointment. She is one of his favorite parishioners so he was concerned. He had married this youthful beauty to young Gordon Brown III, second son of a much landed squire. She teaches Sunday School brilliantly to the teenagers, who love her dearly. Close to their age, beautiful and poised; she is perfect. Surrounded by farms and guarded by tall Sycamore sen- tries, Middleburg is graced by covered bridges. But, on this day in 1950 things are looking very modern through the panes of Dr. Fenwick's office window. He is alone, think- ing, "Golly if these old stone walls could talk..." Young Mrs. Brown's new Chevrolet Bel Air pulls up in the parking lot. She alights from the car a vision of loveliness in a full skirt and white blouse. The cute rounded collar of her white blouse makes her look more like an English school girl than a young middlewestern matron. She wears a broad white hat that would all but cover her face at a low angle. Elizabeth is never without a pair of pumps and her heels "clop" smartly on the curved walkway to the church as she struts toward his office. Dr. Fenwick opens the great wooden door. "Good morning my dear." he says with more than perfunc- tory politeness. She flashes a smile, but on her face are the lines of concern an experienced pastor recognizes. "Please, come in and sit down, my dear." Saying nothing, she enters the inner office alighting on the Chippendale chair before his desk. Crossing her lovely legs and twirl- ing one pump restlessly, she sits pensively. He closes the door behind him and walks to his desk. "How is married life?" he asks brightly. Elizabeth's cheeks flush, but she quickly responds, "It's not quite what I imagined, but..." She draws a deep breath and stares at the pastors old fraternity paddle hanging on the wall. More a trophy of his college days than a tool of his "trade," as it were, he has put it to use only a few times. Most recently, when one of Mrs. Elizabeth's young charges used the "F" word in her Sunday School class. Had something of this kind happened? Dr. Fenwick let the moment fix. The wooden paneled office, graced with cases of religious and philosophical tomes, is rectangular and features an alter with Jesus Christ on the cross starring down in his death agony. With bronze blood oozing from carved wounds, he documents the appreciation of pain in Christianity. As music is the arrangement of sound to produce an emotional response, then religion is the ordering of symbols for power. She looks down for a moment, then up at Dr. Fenwick, "I hope you won't think me inappropriately curious, but I have questions about the way you paddled Donney Miller, the day he, well..." "Oh yes." interrupts Dr. Fenwick, anxious to avoid any direct reference to Donney's sinful utterance. Mrs. Brown brought him directly to the sanctuary office and on her complaint alone Dr. Fenwick inflicted severe corporal pun- ishment on Donney. "Why did you ask me to leave the room?" she asks. He blushes slightly. Surprised to feel warming cheeks at 40, but experience carries him through. Struck with the bloom of Elizabeth's youthful womanhood, he can only roam over the curves of her cheekbones and the dimple in her chin. Her's is the loveliest face in the county and here she is in the morning light of a new day asking a question he strains to answer. "Elizabeth," he begins with difficulty, "we do that sort of thing... uh, bareback..." Dr. Fenwick is clearly embarrassed to say the paddle is applied to bare buttocks. "This is really not a discussion in which we have to delve, Mrs. Brown. Is it?" She drops her gaze to her foot and draws a breath as she twirls her pointy pump. Dr. Fenwick savors the time during which he can stare at her fine, long leg, perfect ankle and compound curves of her pump. The moment is frozen until leaves flutter on Sycamore trees as a quick rush of spring air shakes them. Hanging from a single peg, the old fraternity paddle emblazoned with the symbols "TKE" hangs in repose showing its fine wood grain memorialized in stain and shellac. How could anything so beautiful have only the purpose to inflict pain? "Tau Kappa Epsilon" she proclaims, breaking the silence of the moment. Her mind has been as busy as his has been blank. While he ponders the space where his feelings found- er, she gathers strength in the darkness she seeks to illu- minate. "Yes," he responds with a smile, "my old fraternity. Probably the greatest days of my life." He grins only for a moment, but quickly adds, "Save those of my marriage. Poor Mildred..." "We all miss her so..." consoles Elizabeth. "She was such a fine woman. And, to go that way..." "She is with God..." intones Dr. Fenwick. "Could I see the paddle?" she asks. Dr. Fenwick is surprised, but without question rises to take the board from the wall and hands it to the fair Elizabeth. "This will be the first time I've taken it from the wall without using it." he smiles. "Perhaps I shouldn't break tradition." Her eyebrows rise. Then she smiles slightly and blinks, but says nothing, clearing her throat and tipping her head. "What is your interest, Elizabeth?" he asks. "Dr. Fenwick," she begins. "When that young boy ut- tered the "F" word in my Sunday school class, I thought I would die!" She strokes the paddle as if it were Excalibur and continues, "But then, with one paddling you made him a new person. He's been a model student since. Was it a miracle or magic?" "That is a good question, Elizabeth. A fair question indeed." Dr. Fenwick sits back in his armchair to ponder, putting his fingers together not in prayer but in thought, defining a sphere in space as if he were holding a crystal ball. "I can only say that if spanking is sufficiently severe they seem... Yes, they seem to see the light of God." He looks upward in revelation as the young woman continues to stroke the old paddle. "Of what is it made?" she asked pleasantly. "Oh this is ash. A very tough wood." "Its so smooth..." she coos. "Not on the receiving end." he announces. "What does it feel like?" Well, it's difficult to explain, easy to demonstrate, but hard to appreciate." he smiles, but now his curiosity is rising, along with a new warmth in his genitals. "What do you really seek?" he asks. She runs her long fingers over the paddle and says, "I think it is here, Dr. Fenwick." she draws a deep breath. "I believe it is right here... The miracle you achieved in paddling Donney Miller is one I need now." "You have another candidate for spanking?" "Yes, one." she looks down for a moment. "And who would that be? Someone who has been bad in Sunday School?" "Not someone who has been bad, but someone who has been taken over by the Devil." "The Devil?" "Dr. Fenwick," she blurts, "it's me! I need this! Please rid me of Satan!" She looks down and covers her face with both hands while the paddle rests on her lap, but then as she starts to cry, it falls to the floor. Dr. Fenwick rises from his chair to pick it up and as he holds it in one hand, touches her on the shoulder. "Tell me what you mean, my dear." he orders. She lifts her blushing face and begins to explain as he stand over her with the paddle in his right hand. "When Gordon fell in love with me I knew that I didn't really love him. I liked him a lot, but he is such a boy and..." "Are you going to tell that you favor his older brother Tod?" "Oh Dr. Fenwick!" she exclaimed, "Does it show?" "Not really my dear, but old preachers are intuitive and..." "You're not an old preacher, Dr. Fenwick." "Well, I'm 40 and I'm a widower. I feel old, but we're not discussing me now." "I do love Tod, but he has never married, and I don't think he ever will. He's, well, different." "Tod is very sophisticated." "Yes, he wants to go to New York to study acting, but his father won't hear of it. He wants Tod to learn the family business." "So you thought you would eventually fall in love with Gordon?" "Oh yes, I did and I will, but I have to get Tod out of my system. The Devil is in me. Please Dr. Fenwick, help me! Beat the devil out of me!" "Elizabeth, my dear, you've done nothing wrong and I don't think spanking will solve your problem." he says as he places the paddle on the desk and returns to his seat. "Let some time pass. Have a baby with Gordon, then you'll turn to him with all the love God can give." "Pastor," she starts to cry, "Gordon is sterile. He had mumps as a child and perhaps that is why I want Tod so much. He could give me a baby!" Dr. Fenwick can see the poor woman's dilemma. She has become obsessed with Tod. "My dear," he begins, "I think we should go to God for guidance. Let us retire the sanctuary and kneel before the alter." He stands, puts out his hand and she takes it. The rectory office had been an architectural after- thought and the hall to the main sanctuary was narrow and long, ending at a door just behind the pulpit. He opens the door and leads the way to the altar where they kneel before white shrine featuring Jesus on the Cross. "Dear God give us direction. Elizabeth is deeply trou- bled and has asked for a way to deal with her problems. Please God, give us a sign." He becomes silent and Eliza- beth closes her eyes. Then he looks on her loveliness. There on her knees, her head is bowed and eyes closed, her long hair flowing over her shoulders, he can only wonder what could be troubling this incredible creature of God. The little collar gracing her long neck and cravat give her a formal aura. Her skirt is full and from it jut her long legs and pure white pumps. Now Dr. Fenwick is fully erect. In the distance a spring thunderstorm blasts a light- ning bolt to earth. "Oh God!" she exclaims, "I that's it!" Her voice is like a bell ringing in his soul. "Yes!" he agrees. Now he will oblige her wish. Eliza- beth is going to be paddled! Elizabeth opens her eyes and turns to Pastor Fenwick. "Please Dr. Fenwick, help me." "God has spoken, Elizabeth, and I will..." "Oh thank you." she exclaims with great warmth. Dr. Fenwick finds it necessary to remain on his knees for a while so he outlines a plan while he tries to gain control over his urges. "Elizabeth," he begins, "we have to proceed carefully as we want to be discreet and serve God." Now the storm is approaching and more thunder can be heard. "Oh yes, Dr. Fenwick." she says with great reverence in her voice. Her relief and anticipation are evident. "I feel better already..." He has administered a few paddlings to miscreant boys in the congregation, but this would be his first female and he was having to think it through. "When do you want to do this?" he asks gingerly. "Now." she replies without hesitation. "Gordon is gone for a few days and I'll be alone at home." "All right." he gulps, rising and giving her his hand. In silence they return down the dark hall to his of- fice, closing the doors behind them. He locks the reception room door and says, "Wait out here, Elizabeth. I want you to pray and I need to prepare." She smiles and sits. Back in his office Dr. Fenwick improvises preparations for an exorcistic paddling as the thunderstorm builds. He places a heavy straight-backed chair in front of the wall facing Jesus on the Cross. Christ would look down on the proceedings. Then he ties two purple sash cords to the side arms just below the seat. He retires to his desk where he makes notes and rehearses what he will say during the ritu- al. It is all very important if it is going to be effective and have the proper religious tone. Meanwhile back in the reception room Elizabeth watches the old church clock click off the seconds and minutes while lightning cracks outside. The anticipation was almost more than she can bear. She thinks of poor Donney Miller scream- ing and wondering if it will really hurt that much. Still, she wants the devil out of her and it worked so well with Donney, but now she is scared and feels like running! If she left he would not think ill of her. "He would never mention it." she whispers. But her purse is in the office! Was this God's way of seeing to it that she would be paddled? Surely, it is a sign. She wants to rid herself of the Devil's urge to have sex with her brother-in-law Tod. But then she remembers the way Donney Miller sounded when he got ten swats. "Oh my!" she says aloud. The pleading and moaning, but Donney changed from the town bad boy to one of the best boys and he had found real freedom in discipline. "Praise the Lord." she whispers. Her eyes rise to the cross on the wall where Christ hangs on nails. "He died on the cross for me." she intones. Pain is part of Christianity and hers will be tiny compared to His. She will be better for it. She will be released. "How long will he be?" she wonders as the thunder and lightning continue. "Thinking about it is worse than getting it." a boy friend once told her about being paddled and now she is having an anxiety attack. She can't run. Her legs are like rubber and she wonders if she can even walk in heels. Her heart is pounding. The wall clock in Pastor Fenwick's office was exactly on 9:30 AM. The chime made one "bong" and the doorknob begins to turn and Elizabeth feels the terror of every junior high school bad boy about to "to get it." She cannot stand, but he offers his hand and as she rises says, "Pastor Fenwick, I want to apologize for having made this necessary." "Thank you my dear." He responds. "Come inside." She enters the office and looks at the paddle, now waiting on the desk. Her eyes are like saucers. He feels that she is virtually limp and leads her to the chair, putting her hands on the top. She is trembling. "Let us pray." he intones. "Jesus, guide us and help us rid our beloved Elizabeth of the devil within. Let her see the light. The light of your love and your purpose." With that he turns to her and says, "Elizabeth, bend over the chair and grab the sides just above the seat." Without a word she bends over it, grabbing the sidearms and in a moment he ties her wrists with the improvized sash cords. "Pastor," she asks, "may I kiss the paddle." He gets the board from the desk and raises it to her lips, leaving a greasy imprint on the shellacked surface. "Oh Jesus," she said, "drive this devil from me." Without a word Reverend Fenwick raises Elizabeth's skirt and throws it up and over her buttocks. She draws a deep breath and uttered and "Oh!" "You did expect this? Didn't you?" and another light- ning bolt rattles the windows. "Oh yes. It's just..." but then he yanks down her panties and she inhales a slight shriek, but he ignores it. "Take ten deep breaths, my dear." he orders in a firm voice. She gulps and takes two, saying, "Oh Pastor, I..." "Continue, and don't look back." he orders as he touches the blade to her buttocks to ready her for what is to come. There would be no backing out now and the sky rumbles as rain begins to fall. As she draws her breaths he admires her long legs graced by garter straps and seamed nylons. The tall pumps give her legs perfect curves. She is magnificent and he feels great forces rising within. She takes the last breath and he raises the board from her buttocks. "Don't look at it." he instructs, "Straight down and think about why you are here. Now you want Tod and that is sin." He swings the paddle back and quickly it flashes through the air on its way to: "SPLAT!" It strikes and Elizabeth is surprised to feel only a great pressure, but initially no pain! Then her stunned buttocks rebound and overwhelmed nerves come to life. The stinging starts. "Oh!" she draws a breath. "Jesus is the Lord!" he yells and draws back. "SPLAT!" This time there is no wait for stinging. Her heels leave the floor as she rises on her toes and cries, "Ahoo- ooo....." "Out Satan, out from this good Christian!" as lightning crashes near the church. "SPLAT!" "Ahhhhhh!...." she wails as the third blow lands. "Praise the Lord!" he sings and pulls back again. "SPLAT!" "Ahhooo..." she screams and chokes, but no one would hear her in the noise of the storm. She gasps and sobs as he pauses for a moment, yelling, "Go down the path to judge- ment. Go to the Lord, he sees you and all your sins. Pray to him!" and he takes a mighty backswing. "Oh God, please stop!" she yells, but... "SPLAT!" The fifth blow lands squarely on her flaming fanny and she can only moan, "Ohhh..." as tears gush from her face. "Come to Jesus!" he intones. "SPLAT!" The sixth swat strikes her brilliant red buttocks and she once again rises on her toes, lifting her heels up and out. "Ahooo..." she moans like a copulating cat. Reverend Fenwick is silent. Now he only wants to finish the job as the rain continues to fall the lightning crashes in the distance. "SPLAT!" The seventh blow brings only a moan and a great quiver- ing. Elizabeth is incoherent, crying and drooling. "God will forgive you, Elizabeth." he says solemnly. "SPLAT!" The eighth swat lands squarely on her buttocks, but now they are beginning to undulate strangely and she yells another "Ahooo..." He pauses and she manages to yell, "I see it... I see it..." "SPLAT!" The paddle strikes for the ninth time and she can only utter "Ahhhh...." "Praise the Lord!" he yells as he draws back for what would be the last time and... "SPLAT!" "Come to Jesus!" he yells, but Elizabeth jerks upward and shits. Excrement lands with a great "plop" on the hardwood floor and she cries, "Oh God. I see the light! I see Him..." Pastor Fenwick is astounded and kneels down to untie her, taking her in his arms. She is quivering. "Use my private bathroom." he orders and she wobbles to the door sobbing. She goes behind it and her crying contin- ues as Dr. Fenwick scrapes the turd from the floor with a dustpan. In ten minutes she emerges fairly well composed, but when she returns to the office wearing sunglasses and her hat. "Pastor, I don't know how to thank you, but it stings so much I think I'll feel it forever." "I'll walk you to the car." he offers, grabbing an umbrella from the rack. They leave the office and she "clops" down the stairs and the arched walkway to the parking lot, he opens her car door and sits very gingerly, then drives away slowly. Mortimer Fenwick returns to the office and drops into his chair, sitting for a long time, not thinking, but won- dering what is all means. He knows his world has changed, and changed profoundly. ------------------------------------------- If you wish to receive this novel as a series of emailed chapters, email your request to: avsystem@rain.org