The Swimsuit

Those who are new to Brentwood are usually very surprised when they walk the community for the first time.  Upon seeing the well-maintained, clean streets and classic Americana architecture, one new citizen famously remarked, “This place makes Mayberry look like a shanty town!”  This high standard of appearance extends to the dress and conduct of Brentwood’s population.  You won’t see men stomping around in shorts and t-shirts on Main Street, nor will you see girls slogging about in yoga pants.  Instead it’s practical, but sharp suits for the citizens and charming and fetching dresses for the ladies—all in a mid-1950s style.  Ladies fashion, in particular, is carefully overseen to ensure the tenets of femininity and modesty are observed, lest they devolve into what we currently and sadly see in the world outside of Brentwood. 

Husbands are considered the first line of defense against this very serious form of societal degradation.    

-An excerpt from The Newcomer’s Guide to Brentwood

 

The Swimsuit 

A Loose Sequel to “Cynthia’s Wedding Night”

            Never having been especially graceful, Cynthia did a clumsy pirouette in front of the full-length mirror hanging on the bedroom wall.  She covered her mouth with her hands to contain a squeal of pure, giddy delight.  She felt so naughty!  Her hands dropped to her narrow hips as she tried to look careless and casual even as her normally pale, freckle dusted cheeks flushed ever so slightly.  It was the first time she’d ever worn a bikini and she wasn’t quite sure what to think about it. 

            She bit her lower lip and looked herself up and down over her cat eye glasses.  Regular bathing suits were already so revealing. They put her slight figure and bare legs on display for all to see!  Having her midsection exposed in addition to all that just seemed plain wrong.  She could just feel her former dorm mother and her actual mother wagging their fingers jointly at her in disapproval. 

            “Golly!”  She thought as she ran her fingertips over her smooth, bare tummy.  “I might as well be in my underwear!”

            It was the beginning of summer.  Cynthia’s friends, all newly married like her, had said she was being an old-fashioned, little prude while they shopped for new bathing suits at their favorite downtown boutique.  They’d all been trained up together to be good, little wives at Thompson Finishing School.  During their four year stay, the other girls had always made fun of how mild-mannered and modest Cynthia was even by the community’s strict standards.  They had all insisted that now that they were married women they could dress a little more-daring by the pool.  Ever agreeable—good girls never made a fuss after all—Cynthia went along with it and used the remainder of her generous allowance to make the purchase. 

            She turned around, stuck out her pert, little behind.  Her friends couldn’t make fun of her for being too meek and modest now!  She smiled at her reflection.  Wearing the white spotted, pink two-piece, for the first time in her life she felt almost dangerous.  She imagined what her husband might think when he saw her. 

            Would he find her…irresistible? 

            “I bet he’d be so entranced with me that he’d raise my allowance!”  She giggled to herself. 

            Cynthia gave a start when she saw her husband, William, reflected in the mirror.  He was supposed to be at work, but instead he stood in the bedroom doorway with his arms crossed.  He didn’t look like he was planning on raising her allowance.  In fact, he looked just a bit mad. 

            Cynthia spun around to face him and smiled nervously.  Though she was sure she hadn’t done anything wrong, as far as she was aware, she suddenly felt as if she had.    

            “Da—darling, you’re home!”

            “What’s this?”  He motioned with his hand up and down her petite form. 

            Cynthia blushed and fidgeted like she always did when she was in trouble.  Her knees felt weak and she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands.    

            “Well?”  He asked.     

            Cynthia wasn't sure how to answer.  So, she simply said the first thing that came to her mind. 

             “Um, a bathing suit?”

            “Don’t get smart with me, Cynthia.  I know what you’re wearing.  I mean, why are you wearing it?”

            Cynthia’s heart sank.  She hadn’t meant to be disrespectful at all.  “I—I didn’t mean to be…”  She stammered, but William cut her off. 

            “Who told you that you could get a bikini?”

            Wanting to choose her words more carefully—William was always after her about that—Cynthia thought about it for a moment.  “Well, no one, but the other wives…”

            “Oh, so your little girlfriends put you up to this?”

            “They didn’t put me up to anything, they…” 

            “I saw them in the backyard lounging around my pool, dressed like cheap, little hussies.  As I walked up here to find you I thought to myself, I’m so glad my little wife has the decency and sense not to dress like that!”  He glared at her.  “And then I find you like this!”

            Cynthia, suddenly quite ashamed that she’d disappointed him, was speechless. 

            “Take that trashy rag off, put your dress back on, and tell your friends it’s time to go.”

            Cynthia’s mouth dropped open.  “B-but, they just got here!”  She tried to keep the whining out of her voice, but it was difficult. 

            As Brentwood wives, they were so busy with dutiful homemaking that they rarely had time outside of afternoon cleaning parties to socialize with one another.  It could be quite a while before they could all get permission at the same time from their husbands to have an afternoon together.  Besides that, how could William call her bikini trashy?  Though she knew it was wrong to have such thoughts, occasionally there were times that she felt she knew better than William on certain matters.  Obviously he just didn’t understand what was fashionable and what was not!  Cynthia just couldn’t bear going back down to her friends, dressed all meek and modest again, and telling them they’d have to go!  She could just imagine how they would look at her, what they would think of her—what they would say about her later. 

            William shook his head.  “I don’t care.  Now get going!”

            “No!”  Cynthia stamped her bare foot on the carpet.  “I’m a married woman now!  I—I’ll wear what I want!”

              Moments after the words left her mouth, an uneasy silence held in the air.  Cynthia may not have been married that long, but she knew when she crossed the line.   Even she was shocked by her sudden outright defiance, but it was too late to take back her outburst. 

            With a tired sigh, William advanced on her.  Cynthia felt the urge to run, but he moved as quickly as he did efficiently.  Taking her slender wrist firmly enough to control her, but not enough to bruise her, William sat at the end of the bed, dragging her behind him. 

            Cynthia tugged against his grip feebly.  “Please…”  She begged quietly with tears already in her eyes.  “I…”

            “It’s too late for that, Cynthia.  Now, go over my knee.  Let’s get this over with.”

            “B-b-but, the window!”  She pointed with her free hand to the open window which faced the pool.  “Everyone will hear!”

            “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

            William was correct.  At finishing school, Cynthia and her friends had all been spanked in front of each other countless times, so much so that they knew each other’s bare behinds as much as they knew each other’s faces!  But it was different now that they were all married!   

            “Please…”  Her voice was just above a whisper.  “I’ll go over your knee like a good girl!  I will!  Just let me close—”

            “If you were a good girl I wouldn’t have to do this on a rare afternoon off, Cynthia.”  William pulled his little wife over his lap.  She squirmed a bit in visible frustration, but clearly was more interested in trying to stay quiet than in engaging in pointless struggling against the inevitable.  William knew that she wouldn’t be quiet for long.  He resolved to not only give her behind a proper seeing to, but to embarrass her in front of her friends to further drive his point home.

            The first swat on her seat made the tears already in her eyes fall.  Cynthia covered her mouth with both hands to stifle a shriek.  She never did well with pain.  Usually just the threat of it was enough to keep her well-behaved.  William swatted her again and again.  He always started out slowly, letting her contemplate each stinging impact, before eventually finding a steady rhythm.  Cynthia’s slender legs kicked reflectively with each slap. 

            The tears kept falling, but it wasn’t until the lecture started that Cynthia began to sob into her hands.

            “You are my wife!”  William’s voice never rose during lectures, but they always had an undercurrent of disappointment.  Knowing that she hadn’t lived up to his expectations hurt so much more than being screamed at.  “I decide what you wear, not your friends.”

            “I—I didn’t know!  I’m sorry!”  Cynthia blubbered, no longer caring that the window was open.

            “Did I say you could speak?”  William punctuated his question with a particularly hard swat.  Then he yanked Cynthia’s bikini bottoms down her legs making the already humiliated girl gasp. “I decide what you wear, and you know that I expect you to be modest in public.  ‘In like manner also, that the women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with propriety and moderation, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or costly clothing.’  What verse is that, Cynthia?”

            “Timothy 2:9!”  Cynthia squeaked.    

            “Remember it next time.”

            “Yes, sir, I will!  I promise I will!”  She earnestly replied. 

            “Good,” William said and rested his rough hand on her bare, stinging skin. 

            Cynthia relaxed and wiped her tears from her cheeks.  Thinking the spanking was over she waited for him to release her so that she could get up.  She yelped when his hand came down again.  Thin and skimpy as her bikini bottoms were, they had offered her some small protection against his hand.  Cynthia shook her head.  How could she have been so stupid to think the punishment was over?  William always said, “A proper spanking is always delivered on the bare bottom.”  Why would her most recent failure result in anything different?

            As her struggling increased, William took Cynthia’s arm, twisted it behind her back and held her down across his lap.  With this hold, no amount of twisting or squirming allowed the wailing, young wife to escape the repeated blows to her rapidly reddening behind.  There was no doubt that Cynthia’s friends could hear her getting chastised in the bedroom.  Her sharp squeals and pathetic pleadings could no doubt be heard across the whole neighborhood.  While Cynthia cared before, and would certainly care later, at that moment she couldn’t be bothered with such considerations. 

            Cynthia didn’t know how much time had passed, when the spanking finally did stop.  William slowly released his grip on her arm and helped her down off his lap.  Kneeling before him, Cynthia cried and cried as she hugged his legs and buried her face in his knees.  She knew that she wasn’t supposed to rub her punished bottom after a spanking, so she clung onto William’s legs both to keep her hands busy and because she desperately needed reassurance from him. 

            William’s hand gently stroked her hair as he hushed her.  The thought that she was about to be sent to the corner to “collect herself” made her cry harder.  To her surprise, he didn’t send her there.  Instead he raised her chin so that her eye met his.

            “Do you understand why I had to spank you, Cynthia?”  He asked.

            Cynthia took a deep breath to calm her sobs.  “Yes, sir, I need to dress modestly and obey you without questioning so much.  I’m so sorry, sir!”

            William’s smile warmed Cynthia’s longing heart.  “That’s a good girl.  I forgive you, and I love you.”  He praised then reached behind her and unhooked her bikini top and then lifted it over her head. 

            Though William had already seen her little breasts many times since they’d been married, and he’d assured her that it was alright and, in fact, very much required, that he see them whenever he pleased, Cynthia’s slender arms came up to cover herself. 

            “That’s the modest, little lady I married.”  William smiled and tossed her top over by her discarded bottoms.  “Hands behind your back.”

            Cynthia did as she was told.  She felt so vulnerable kneeling without a stitch on and her small bust pressed out.  It was a sharp contrast to how powerful she’d fancied herself before William had rightly brought her back down to Earth.  Still sniffling, she noticed the large bulge in William’s pants.  She thought it was so strange that he always seemed to have such a bulge any time he spanked her, but she knew that good girls didn’t ask about such things, so she kept silent on the matter.  As he unzipped his pants, she had a fairly good idea what was about to happen. 

            Just as he’d assured her about showing him her breasts, so too had he promised that it was perfectly alright for a wife to look at her husband’s penis.  He’d called it a “cock,” though he’d forbidden her from using such a word, instead suggesting she call it simply a “thing.”  Cynthia still felt the urge to cover her eyes, but didn’t.  Even though she still found it—intimidating—she liked looking at it. 

            William’s hand touched the back of her head and moved her pink lips towards the purple head of his manhood.  Just a month before, on their wedding night, she had taken him into her mouth for the first time. 

            Only seconds into the act, she had pulled back, a tiny bit of spittle on her lips, and gravely asked if what she was doing was, “Being bad?”  Her husband had smirked down at her and told her that it was, in fact, being “Very good.”

            Wanting to be “very good” again, she allowed herself to be guided to his member.  With her eyes peeking up at him over her smudged glasses, he slid inside her open mouth.  Though she was still inexperienced, she massaged him with her little, pink tongue and minded her teeth, just as he’d taught her.  Cynthia shivered.  She must have been doing something right as William moaned, gripped her hair tighter, and moved her back and forth, her lips sliding up and down his slickening shaft. 

            Tears came to her eyes again as his bulbous head thrust into her throat making the poor thing choke.  Cynthia forced herself to maintain eye contact.  William liked that.  And after all she’d put him through—and on his rare afternoon off —he deserved to have something he liked!

            He moved her head back and forth so rapidly, that she’d become dizzy.  His low moans became more like growls and suddenly his thing twitched violently.  Her mouth was filled with his hot, sticky load.  William had told her repeatedly that, “Good girls swallow what they’re given,” but she found that difficult.  Coughing and sputtering, half of the load wound up on her face, while the other half dripped down to her breasts and the tops of her thighs. 

            William sighed, grunted and put his pants back on.  Cynthia, happy that he was happy, still felt indescribably filthy covered in his spunk.  Her mind was squarely on getting a shower when suddenly William reached down, took her ear and pulled her up to her feet.

            “Come on, Cynthia.  We’ve got to tell your little friends that it’s time to go.”

            Cynthia was horrified.  Surely he wouldn’t expect her to go tell them as she was!  Her hopes were dashed the moment he’d hauled her through the bedroom door.

            “No!  I don’t want them to see me like this!” 

            “Well they’re going to.  I called their husbands before I came up to the bedroom to let them know how their wives were dressed.  They’re all on their way to pick them up.  The least you can do as hostess is to tell them!”

            Somehow Cynthia got through the ordeal.  She’d stood in front of all of her friends, tearful, red faced, dirtied, and naked as a jaybird.  Her husband stood behind her to make sure that she honestly described what had happened and what would happen, as well as to make sure that she did so gracefully as a proper hostess should. 

            True to William’s word, the other husbands arrived soon after, and they all looked just as displeased as he had.  Some of the young wives were spanked right then and there for their shocking immodesty and for being a bad influence on Cynthia.  The luckier ones were brought into the house for the same treatment, which William generously offered.  When it was all over, every wife left the short lived pool party with tear streaked faces and bright red bottoms.    

            It was a long time before Cynthia and her friends were allowed to get together for another pool party, but when they were, the husbands were present to supervise, and each little wife wore a proper one piece without the slightest complaint!

The End