I’ve long had a fantasy about a rural, religious village, in which it was traditional for the God-fearing, church-going folk to spank their daughters for the past week’s misdemeanours immediately upon returning home from the Sunday service. I picture rows of nervous girls glancing at one another, wondering which of their friends might shortly experience a most uncomfortable home-coming.
A recent post on Jujebee’s blog explored real-life experiences that reveal my idle imagings to be not too far removed from the truth. In a comment, Jennifer then noted that:
I’ve never known anyone to have such similar experiences or at least speak in detail of them. I can so relate to your posts… on more then one occasion one of my sisters or myself or all of us a few times, were “escorted” out of a church service…and for us that meant only one thing…”a spank’in”. It meant, what we called a “church spank’in” now and when we got home a “REAL” spank’in or whuppin.
A man could get religion. Almost.
P.S. If you wanted to make a real girl tremble, you could head over to Master Fitz and His Brat and vote for an implement to be used on Brat this week. The number of strokes is decided by the number of votes, so go and make your mark, so to speak.
Hmmm, I just happened to read a post earlier today on AngelBrat’s blog about sitting in church knowing a spanking was waiting at home.
http://angelbrat454.blogspot.com/2006/10/waiting.html
And of course, Sparkle’s gotten spanked quite a few times after church, though less often since the baby was born. A couple of times, it was even for things she said/did at church.
Hi Abel,
This isn’t what you expect to hear, but for me going to confession has always been a special experience, I don’t know what’s worse, doing it with a screen or without it, I always go without a screen, so you look the priest directly in the eyes as you confess. It’s very awkward – I want to look aside or look down – not look straight at him. Don’t get me wrong here – God forbid, I don’t imagine anything kinky happening there and then, as that would be entirely blasphemous and very unappealing, but I have to say that I do enjoy the discomfort of the whole ritual: I expect anxiously, with butterflies in my stomach, watching other people go in and out, I come in (by then I experience something like “cold sweat”), I kneel, I greet the priest and pray together with him, which doesn’t ease the nervous anticipation, I tell the man with a kind voice and face of the embarrassing things I’ve done, filled with the feeling of contrition and shame. Then he forgives me (technically, Christ does, but anyway) and sends me forth with a kind smile and some penance he assigned me to do. At that point, I am filled with relief and gratitude, feeling the whole world better, as though right after a difficult exam.
Not exactly what you might have expected, but along those lines.
Yours,
Mrs. Amber Hemingway
And your wish has come true! Now, if I were you Abel, I would be careful what I wished for! 😉
But that is one hot fantasy!
Any other nice ones you want to share with us? 😉
Hugz,
Kay
Hi, Amber – thanks for your long, fascinating post. I have to say that I’m glad I don’t go to church – I’d find the very idea of confession too scary! But at a kinky level, the idea of the humble girl kneeling, and the subsequent penance, could generate lots of pervy thoughts!
Kay – I’m sure I might just have another fantasy (or hundred!) to post! Then again, you’re the one who posted on her blog about corner time, after I’ve been reflecting on that all week!
In my experiences in life, the more religious a woman has been, the naughtier she was. So let a birch, or cane be used to solve this problem on their bare bottoms. Don’t you agree.