Author: Jack Crawford Title: On The Hill Summary: Young congresswoman finds that coping with compromises is eating her up emotionally ... until she is referred to a spanking therapist to relieve all that guilt! Keywords: dom, MF, humil, md, spank, exhib <!--ADULTSONLY--> Copyright: 2010 It was another day of compromises, one of those days that freshman Representative Jan Hickok could not have imagined only four short months ago as she made her bid to represent her district in Texas on Capitol Hill. In a hotly contested, old fashioned, mud slinging race, Jan had far outdistanced her opponent with her unwavering stand on many issues. She refused to compromise and that image had come across loud and clear to her constituency in Texas. It had also created a landslide victory for her. Today had been typical. In order to achieve her goals on one issue, Jan had been forced to "give in" on another. She was convinced that, when it came to the compromises, she had made all the right choices, yet the process of making the decisions was very troubling to her. She felt she was somehow abusing the trust her voters had placed in her when they elected her to office. Oh, she could rationalize her situation and make every logical argument supporting her positions, but she still felt very deeply disturbed ... even guilty. Twice before, she had confided these feelings to her good friend, Congresswoman Patricia Rawlings. Patricia had been the one who had convinced Jan to run for office and had always provided excellent counsel. Now, as Jan and Pat sat in the latter's office waiting for her aide to finish serving coffee and exit, the guilty feelings began to swell in Jan yet again. I should be working, not sitting here pouring out my troubles on Pat, thought Jan. The aide finished and left the two women to their private conversation. Ever perceptive, Pat observed, "Another bad day with the conscious, Jan?" Pat sipped her coffee and regarded her friend. "I don't know how you do, Pat," remarked the younger woman. "You've served four terms in Congress and are perfectly sane, yet I've only been here four months and I'm about to go crazy!" Jan fought back the urge to cry, but she did not want her frustration to win ... at least not in front of her friend, and mentor. "How do you do it, Pat? How can you handle the constant juggling of values?" Her friend smiled sympathetically. "Would you believe me if I told you I still have terrible feelings of remorse and guilt. Having to sacrifice one objective to attain another isn't easy. But, hey! Jan, you're doing wonderfully, so don't be so hard on yourself." Jan lost the battle with her frustration as tears welled in her eyes and she started to bawl. "Oh, Pat! I feel like I've lied to the voters back home. How can I ever face them again? I find it hard to look in the mirror and face myself ... my lieing, conniving, scruppleless self!" She buried her face in her hands and cried, bitterly upset at what she felt was a major character flaw. Pat took a box of tissues from the end table and sat next to her distraught friend handing her the tissues. She put her arm around the upset woman and tried to calm her. Eventually, Jan's crying subsided. With one last motherly hug, Pat went to her desk and retrieved a business card which she carried back with her. "I hadn't want to suggest this," admitted Pat, "But another woman in the House recommended this person to help me through the type of problems that you are now dealing with. It's kind of embarrassing, but you are young and pretty and if you don't get some help you'll look more like 57 than the 37 years old that your really are." Taking the card from Pat, Jan looked saw that it said very simply, "James Everson" and listed a D.C. phone number. "Who's this?" she asked. "A therapist of sorts and really a very good friend," Pat answered. "I had exactly the same problems you are experiencing when my Congresswoman friend recommended him. He really helped me deal with the feelings of guilt." The older woman smiled wanly. "Actually, I still see him about every couple of months because I still need to unburden myself from many of the less than honorable activities that go on around here." "Pat," her friend said with some alarm, "you know what people would say if they knew you were seeing a psychiatrist. You'd be politically crucified! How can you run that risk?" "He's not a psychiatrist, dear," Pat said. "Actually, he is a Methodist minister who helps some of us through our little crises." "I'm not all that religious, Pat. I would be very uncomfortable baring my soul to some strange minister," Jan complained. Pat giggled a little, then took Jan's hands in her own and fixed her with a serious stare. "I've already called him, Jan, and he will be expecting your call." Jan started to protest, but Pat cut her off. "He really is a good friend, and there is no religious overtones to what he does. I'm concerned for you, honey, and I want you to promise you'll see him." Looking down, Jan was very uncertain about this whole subject. "I don't know," she said uncertainly. "If he's not a shrink and he's not acting as a minister, just what does he do?" "I'll tell you," offered Pat, "Only if you promise to meet James once and follow his advice. I have never steered you wrong, honey. Please trust me on this." Squeezing Jan's hands for emphasis, she added, "Promise me you'll do at least one session with James. I guarantee ... GUARANTEE ... you'll feel much better. And, he'll help you for free. He believes its his patriotic duty to help." Jan looked up wondering if her friend had lost her mind. "Honest, Jan. He really does believe it's his patriotic duty! I've seen him for the better part of 7 years and know him very well. Promise?" "Okay! Okay. You win," Jan agreed, throwing her hands into the air in mock surrender. "But, just what the hell does he do?" "James knows, and, believe me I am proof positive that he is absolutely correct, that the best way to deal with debilitating guilt," Pat paused strategically, "Is to revert to the time honored method of clearing the slate. He is going to give you the spanking that your guilt says you deserve." "What!?!" "Don't be so indignant and don't forget you promised to see him," reminded Pat somewhat impatiently. "Remember when you were a little girl and got into mischief? Wasn't it always better to be spanked and forgiven than to suffer interminable 'groundings' or to have the guilty cloud hang over you?" "Yes, but ... but," Jan stammered, "I'm a grown woman. You're a grown woman and a member of the House of Representatives of the United States of America! How can you let him spank you?" "Simple. I feel much better when it is all over. I am no longer consumed with guilt and I function much better and with a clearer mind." Pat reached over and took the business card back. "Let's not put this off any longer," she said reaching for the phone near the sofa. "You and I were supposed to have dinner tonight, but I'll make an appointment with James for you at that time instead." Jan sat in disbelief as Pat placed the call and chatted in a friendly manner with James, then made the appointment for Jan. Snapping back into consciousness, Jan heard her friend say, "No, no, James. I'll prepare her so you won't have to spend that much time before hand." Pat laughed and added, "Or before whatever you decide to use!" She said her goodbyes, hung up the phone and announced to Jan, "There! That's all settled. I'll write down his address for you so you can meet him at his home at 7:30 P.M., sharp." Pat wrote down the address on the back of the calling card and handed it to Jan who asked, "What do you have to prepare me for?" "It is so much easier to go through this if you know you need this spanking ... if you know why you need this spanking," Pat explained. "You already know why - it's the deep seated guilt you have about having to always play the 'compromise game' on The Hill." Pat studied her friend and continued. "You need to be prepared to accept your guilt and then to let it go. James will make you cry and feel just like the naughty little girl you fell you are, but when it is all over ... you'll know you've paid your debt to society and can get on with the business of representing your constituents." Pat leaned forward and add a warning. "Do exactly what he tells you, Jan, no matter how embarrassing. James can be very cross if you disobey him. And, you do not want to make him cross." Jan left her friend's office and returned to her own, where she stay behind closed doors for the remainder of the afternoon. She was confused and she felt as if she existed in a cloud; she was able to recognize things, but was unable to see well. It was much like being in a dream where you only visualized in black and white ... there was no color. She left early for home and took a long hot bath in her toney Georgetown condo. Worrying about whether to follow through with the appointment, Jan just soaked in the water. What might happen? How will I feel? I don't know this guy at all, but if it helps??? Pat knows him, but what if something crazy happens? Is he really going to spank me? Even in the hot water, a cold shiver ran up her spine as Jan realized she hadn't been spanked in more than 25 years. Through all the emotional turmoil, the decisive factor was simply that Jan had told Pat she would agree to a session with Mr. Everson. Her promise was all that mattered, besides, she rationalized, I don't need something else to feel guilty about. A decision having been made, Jan finished her bath, dressed and saw that she had just enough time to find Mr. Everson's address, which was only a few blocks away. It really wasn't cold enough, but Jan put on an overcoat over her smart business suit, and added a hat and dark glasses although it was dark outside. Her appearance caused a twinkle in Mr. Everson's eye when he answered his door. "Good evening, Miss Hickok," he greeted her, finding her disguise amusing. "Won't you come in? We wouldn't want anyone to suspect why you are ringing my doorbell." My, my, he thought as she passed thorough the open door, Congress is getting younger and younger. Jan was horribly embarrassed, but his chiding made it worse. She was surprised when he answered the door, but then, she had no idea what to expect from this man. James Everson was a moderately tall gentleman with distinguished features, probably in his early sixties. He had a full head of wavy silver hair and an elegant bearing. Jan followed him to the front parlor and accepted his offer of tea. That chatted over tea for awhile, making small talk and getting to know each other. She discovered that Mr. Everson was a retired Methodist Minister, in fact, he had been Chaplain of the Army and had long since retired on a comfortable pension and family inheritance. "Let's talk about your visit," Mr. Everson suddenly got down to business. "From what Patricia has told me, you two are a lot alike." Jan only looked at him, nervously, but remained silent. "I want you to know that what happens here is strictly confidential and I would never mention you to another soul. Patricia told me about your conversation and feelings which is the only reason I mentioned her." Jan felt somehow relieved by his promise of discretion. She felt she could believe him and she desperately wanted to believe him. "My purpose is solely to allow you an emotional outlet, a release of pent up frustrations, if you will. Do you understand how I propose to do this?" he asked. She nodded, but his arched eyebrow urged her to speak. "I, uh, understand that your course of therapy involves, uh, the liberal application and transfer of energy, from, uh, one person to the other, so that a, uh, uh, an enhancement of mood can be achieved," she tried to explain. "Come now, Miss Hickock," he challenged, "We are both adults and this is not Capitol Hill where you are not allowed to speak in a straight line. Tell me more simply, please." Jan surprised herself with her frank response. "I'm here to be spanked." She looked away from him as she felt her face redden with embarrassment. "Exactly!" he exclaimed. "And, just why, young miss, do you need a spanking?" Now tears started to trickle down her pretty face, and she fought for control as she answered. "I feel horrible at having to make compromises on one thing to get another. The deal making that goes on makes me feel cheap and dirty. I feel like I've lied to the voters and I feel so God damned ashamed of myself!" She regained her composure, though a last couple of tears stained her cheeks. "Half the battle is knowing what the problem is, Miss Hickok," he congratulated. "I'll deal with the other half ... the half that says you need to atone for your feelings of guilt and shame. And atone for them you will." Mr. Everson seemed to straighten in his chair as he added, "Since you recognize the need to be punished, there should be no reason for me to lecture you. Should you visit me in the future, you will ask for your spanking. And, I think that would be something that I should hear from you right now." Jan suddenly found the intricate patterns in the expensive Persian rug very interesting and found it difficult to speak. She was thrilled by the possibility of what was to come, much more so that she would have imagined only minutes earlier. But, she was also frightened and found it difficult to ask for that which scared her. Mr. Everson remained patiently quiet until Jan eventually whispered, "Would you please spank me, sir?" "Do you deserve a spanking, young lady?" he questioned calmly. "Yes, sir," she answered in a slightly stronger voice before adding, "I've been quite naughty and deserve to be spanked very soundly." "Very well," Mr. Everson said. "Follow me. I spank naughty young ladies in my study, not in the front parlor." He stood up and grasped Jan firmly, yet not harshly, by the wrist and led her across the hall and into his study. The room had the usual accoutrements of an educated gentleman, all dark leather and wood. A large desk stood opposite the door, but there was only a single guest chair in front of the desk, and it was facing toward the door, not the desk. Jan followed meekly behind the older gentleman who ushered her into the study and turned to close the double doors. "Please place your coat and hat on the couch," he instructed pointing at the leather couch. As he turned and noticed her business suit he observed, "That will not do at all. Miss Hickok, please remove your suit coat and place with your other clothes. Might as well remove your skirt, unless you want it wrinkled." She looked up at him startled. "Remove it, girl," he ordered again. "I've seen lots of ladies naked below the waist. You won't be the first." Jan gulped, and removed her skirt, then correctly guessed that her slip should be removed as well. Mr. Everson nodded his approval. It was now that Jan realized she had made a poor choice when dressing for the evening. She still had on her white frilly blouse, but below that she had panties and a garter belt that supported her tan nylons. I look like a tramp, she thought miserably. She watched as Mr. Everson approached her, took her wrist and guided her over to the chair. He sat down abruptly, and gently guided her over his lap. She resisted a little, but his firm and persistent urging caused her to settle over his knees. "You know why you deserve this spanking, Miss Hickok," he lectured. "So, there is no need to put off what you warrant any longer." His experienced palm rose and fell sharply on her pantied bottom. SPANK! Jan inhaled sharply then held her breath as several more stinging spanks landed harshly on her bottom. The gentleman was being none too gentle in the application of his palm to her upturned bottom. SPANK!! SMACK!! CRACK!! Jan tried to be still and pressed her thighs tightly together as her bottom bounced and wiggled with each slap. As Mr. Everson increased the pace of her spanking, the stinging swats began to overlap and the sharp stinging soon had a dull aching join her bottom's nerve endings. "Oh ... Oh," she whined, "That really hurts!" "Of course, young lady, it is supposed to hurt," he answered adding a little more force to each spank. Her panty covered bottom began writhing in a futile effort to avoid the stinging spanks and to ease the pain she was feeling. It didn't help. Mr. Everson's hard palm continued its incessant tempo and Jan began exclaiming, "Ow ... Ouch ... OH!" Her legs kicked and she overlooked her modesty as she reacted to the smarting spanks. Suddenly he stopped. Jan wondered if the spanking was finished and looked over her shoulder to see what Mr. Everson was doing. To her horror, she saw, and felt, him grasp the top of her panties and slip them down to her knees. "NOO!!" she protested. Mr. Everson's reaction was to simply resume her spanking, but this time on her naked nates. Her brain told Jan that her panties had offered no real protection from the spanking hand, but her imagination told her the spanking was now twice as distressing to her bottom. She overlooked her exposed state and reacted vigorously to the spanking. She moaned and groaned loudly, pleading with him to stop. Her legs kicked about wildly, but to no avail. The now crimson bottom remained perfectly positioned for spanking. "Are you ready to conclude, young lady?" Mr. Everson suddenly asked. Her bottom throbbed, and she could feel cool air breeze by her hot skin. The humiliation of the spanking had been worse than the actual physical punishment, and Jan wondered when this new found sense of relief would set in. Maybe she just did not react to a spanking the same as her friend, Pat. Her musings were interrupted as Mr. Everson repeated his question. "Uh, yes, sir," she answered. "Good," he said simply, helping her to her feet. "Please go to the center drawer of my desk and retrieve the ruler for me." Jan instinctively reached to pull up her panties and he slapped her thighs sharply. "As you are! I did not tell you to cover yourself." Shaken, the shapely Congresswoman hobbled to the desk and brought back the sturdy ruler she found in the drawer. Bright red splotches on the meaty parts of her behind swayed as she made the little steps her panties caused. Not only was the stark contrast visible to Mr. Everson, but Jan could clearly feel the difference in surface temperature where white skin turned to bright pink. Jan handed the ruler to Mr. Everson, who patted his lap, then eased her across his knees. She felt him reach around her waist with his left arm and pull her in tightly to him as he hooked his right leg over both her legs, pinning her in place. The sudden sharpness from the cracking ruler made Jan cry out. SNAP!! "YEEOW!" she screamed. CRACK!!SNAP!! SPLAT!! "Oh, oh, OOHH!!" her bawling came freely as Mr. Everson crashed the solid ruler savagely onto her bare bottom. Jan tried to struggle free, but it was useless. As she struggled harder, the ruler smacked her harder yet. Big crocodile tears flowed as the angry ruler continued its punishment. "I'm sorry ... I'm sorry!" she pleaded. "Ooohhhh!! It hurts so bad ..... Please stop!" SNAP!! SNAP!! SPLAT!! The ruler was relentless and she continued to beg. Unconsciously, she realized her pleading was doing no good, so she quit protesting and simply cried from the pain and humiliation. Her body went limp as she sobbed, jerking spasmodically from the nasty strokes of the ruler. The upturned bottom over his lap, was pale white at the far edges and a bright crimson closer to the twin summits which were crossed with even darker lines as a result of the ruler. The spanking stopped and Mr. Everson allowed Jan to calm herself over his lap. As she regained control, he helped her to her feet and directed the Congresswoman to a lonely corner in the room. "Put your nose in the corner, and hold your blouse up so that your naughty, spanked bottom is on display," he ordered. She complied without question. Mr. Everson left her briefly, then returned and spoke kindly to her. "I'll leave you now. My job is done. A timer has been set, when you hear it 'ding' you may dress yourself and leave." He went to the door, paused and added, "You did very well, Miss Hickok. I think that when you leave you'll feel much better about yourself, so please think about that while you are in the corner." Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "If you find you need to see me again, please call me. You're a delightful young lady. I would be honored to help you accept your role in government. Good night." He left, closing the study door and Jan waited in the corner for the timer to go off. When it did, she dressed and quickly left his home. As she walked back to her own condo, her sore and tender bottom was irritated by her rubbing clothes. Then, as she unlocked the door to her condo, she suddenly realized that a great weight had been lifted. She felt enervated and free, then suddenly very hungry. That's odd, she thought. I haven't felt like eating for several weeks. Realizing how wonderful she now felt, she stopped to do one last chore before she satisfied her sharp craving for food. She dialed her phone and waited as the other end rang. "James Everson," announced the man on the other side of the connection. "Thank you, Mr. Everson," she said. "I feel much better." He chuckled. "Anytime, my dear. Anytime."