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." 
