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Cheeky Bottoms in the Confirmation Class – A sermon by the Reverend J
I do like a nice round, firm bottom. I was thinking precisely that earlier this evening as I took some corrective action on a young lady who felt that making rude comments during her confirmation class and making the younger girls giggle and blush was acceptable. Well, she was the one who ended up with the deeper blush after the class, and not only upon her face either.
As she lay panting gently across my lap, my hand resting upon the small of her back, just above her reddened bottom, I could survey the wonderous view. Her rump was nicely rounded and not too toned. Her darker skin tone did little to hide the colour I had added, but her clear skin and well defined cheeks were, in my opinion, just perfect. I am sure she was much less happy about her current situation, but she will learn that living in a Christian community under the eyes of God means learning obedience and putting one’s personal needs to one side. (Note to self, a lesson I must remind myself of from time to time, particularly when it comes disciplining the more attractive members of my flock)
Unfortunately, this was not a first offence for this young lady. She joined my confirmation class to cement her relationship with the Almighty, but as the oldest by a perhaps a year, she took it upon herself to become the class clown and to bring puerile and frankly obscene humour into the sessions. Deliberately mis pronouncing words, skipping to those sections of the Good Book that make the young ones giggle and making repeated double-entendres or just smirking at otherwise innocent comments is a sure fire way to find one’s self across my knee. I had a quiet word with her after the previous session, but it appears my words failed to land, so my hand – and if she continues, my slipper will have to do so instead.
At the end of the evening, I allowed the younger ones to leave my study in the vicarage – where the class was being held, and asked her and a boy, just a year younger, but much better behaved to remain behind. She looked quite nervous as I closed the heavy oak door, drew the curtains and moved a kneeling rail to the middle of the room. This didn’t stop her making a facetious comment “Are we praying for a miracle to make this class less boring?” she asked.
I smiled indulgently. “No,” I said “You are going to learn an important lesson about obedience and what it means to mock the word of The Lord” I nodded to the boy – who I had spoken to a little earlier as he helped me to make the squash and arrange the Jaffa Cakes in the kitchen, ready to serve to the class. He walked quickly up behind her and grabbed her arms, twisting them into a painful Full Nelson and leaving her helpless. He’s a strong lad and well up to the task, and I am sure I can find more uses for him in the future. “Thank you Alexander” I said. He nodded and smiled with obvious pleasure at being instructed to restrain this young woman whom he obviously held some feelings for.
She gasped in pain and shock as he applied a little more pressure and bent her forward slightly. I took the opportunity to slip my fingers into the waistband of her leggings and knickers and in one swift movement had pulled them down to her ankles. “Oh Reverend!” she squeaked “What are you doing to me??” She looked around to Alex for support, but he simply grinned back, looking forward to the spectacle he would soon have a ring side seat for. “Sorry Bethany, but I must do as I’m told”
It was the work of a moment to position her over prayer rail. For the shorter girls, I have them stand on the cushion and lean them over the rail, grasping the upright frames, but if they are of sufficient stature, I reverse the position, so that their feet are on the floor and they grip either side of the cushion with the hands. Pairs of leg and wrist cuffs can then be applied, securing them into position. Apparently one of the last Official Executioners in the UK – Albert Pierpont, could secure, noose and drop a condemned man in less than 15 seconds. I rather fancy I can secure even the most recalcitrant girl in not much more than half that time, even without the assistance of a hulking teenage boy.
So positioned, we stepped back to admire our handiwork. Although I always prefer a traditional Over the Knee spanking, I find it is normally necessary to break the spirit of my charges first. It saves a lot of kicking and fidgeting and makes the whole process much more pleasurable – at least for me. It was clear the Alex could not tear his eyes away from perfectly presented posterior, and frankly I could not blame him. Bethany’s buttocks were particularly well defined, with a nice deep crease and a plump labia peaking out between her thighs. The skin was the colour of lightly oiled oak and wonderfully clear and unmarked. Her bottom bobbed up and down slightly as she breathed heavily, unaccustomed to the position she found herself in, while she stared grimly down upon the kneeler, trying to find a position that was slightly more comfortable. Some chance of that, the prayer rail is designed to keep the penitent focused, and even bent over it from the other side, it is set at an awkward height such that its almost a stress position for its poor prisoner. I am in no doubt that she knew what was coming next.
Without further delay I delivered the first volley of smacks. 3 to each cheek – The Holy Trinity so to speak. I try to make these stinging slaps without too much weight, more of a warm up to the main event so to speak. “Ow Ow Ow” she squealed as the first spanks landed. She tried to twist herself away, but Alex was instantly upon her, grasping her slim waist and holding her firmly in the optimum position. I hardly left a pause before we started on the next set of spanks; 3 sets of 6 to represent the number of the beast, to exorcise the devil from her. These spanks are always significantly harder. We watched her flesh deflect and rebound with that charming wobble and find so endearing. Bethany was collapsed down onto the rail now and Alex needed to do very little to hold her still. “Thank you Alex, I think you can release her now” He stepped back and we both admired the view of her smarting bottom and gently shuddering shoulders, as the tears ran down her face.
I dismissed Alex and escorted him from the room “Bye Bethany” he called “Looking forward to seeing more of you next week” I looked around from the door just in time to see Bethany mouthing an obscenity. Oh dear, perhaps the lesson has not quite landed yet.
I returned to the room and undid the restraints, helping Bethany back to a standing position. I allowed her a moment to rub her bottom before instructing her to stand still with her hands on her head. Reluctantly, she complied, lifting her arms and of course, her blouse at the same time. This gave me a privileged view of the recently trimmed triangle of frizzy pubic hair framing her neat little vagina, her tidy labia just slightly parted and if I was not mistaken, slightly glistening. I could see her blushing as I soaked up the view and I knew the humiliation would burn as much as the spanking.
“I’ll t-tell my D-Dad about you” she stuttered.
“Ah, yes, your father” I replied. “Indeed, and I am sure he will tell you about the beating he received almost on that very spot, when he decided to carve his name into the choir stalls during a morning service almost 20 years ago. I’m sure he still has the marks – as does the stall. However, he has become a fine man, a reliable provider to your mother and family and an obedient servant of God.
Bethany’s opened a little wider at this revelation “You spanked my Dad?”
“Oh no, he received the cane, 12 strokes across he bare backside as I remember. He had a severe lesson to learn and I made sure he would not repeat his mistake. Your mother too, I’m afraid to say. She was somewhat wayward at the age you are at now, and I needed to be sure that she returned to the fold. She was put over my knee a couple of times and look at her now, a model housewife, faithful to your father, a role model in the church and gainfully employed at the village school”
“So that’s what I should be then, a model housewife?” Bethany asked “Just there to pump out a few kids and keep a clean home?”
“No” I replied, your path may be different, but whatever you do, it must be to your best abilities. You may become a scientist, a doctor or nurse and decide never to marry or have children, anything really but you must not become recalcitrant, disobedient to those that you answer to or wholly reliant on others. God teaches that we must not lie abed with other men, the literal translation that some believe is that this is a teaching against homosexuality, but to the theologian, we take it to mean that we must not live on the good nature and earnings of others. This my child is a lesson you must learn.
Bethany looked down at her feet. “So why spanking then?”
I smiled. Of course one of the reasons I would not be revealing to her, but I could discuss how corporal punishment is an effective deterrent to misbehaviour. “Tell me” I said after a few moments “How do you feel right now?”
Bethany blushed an even deeper shade of crimson “I feel embarrassed displaying myself in front of you and Alex, and I’m worried he’ll tell everyone”
I nodded “Go on”
“My bottom is stinging and I think it’s starting to bruise,” she replied, lowering her arms and rubbing her rear.
“And next week in my class, will your behaviour improve?”
She nodded “Yes, I think it will”
“And what about in the future, will I see you in here again?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t want to come back”
“Very well. Then hopefully this spanking you are about to receive will be your last from me” (Secretly, I am hoping not, I am if nothing else true to my word and won’t be engineering the opportunities).
“She looked at me with a scared expression across her face. “Another? I I thought we were done”
“No my child, that was simply a warm up. I feel the message needs to be embedded a little deeper”. I gently grasped her by the arms and positioned her over my knee. Sat as I was in the middle of a large sofa, she was flattened out across my lap, her legs just hanging over one end and her face buried in the seat cushion, her arms clutching tightly around the sides. I do like this position, as it relieves the skin’s tension across the rump and provides a lovely wide, fleshy target with even the skinniest of bottoms. Bethany’s ample bottom sat there rather like large red, rosy apple and I really can’t tell you how much I would like to have taken a bite.
But to business. I rested my right hand upon her buttocks, pinning her firmly in position with my left arm wrapped around her waist. “I am going to give you 24 spanks” I said, quietly but with authority. “I will deliver them in batches of 6 and after I have finished, you will dress and go home. Whether you choose to tell anyone is up to you. Alex will not say anything, as I have instructed him to remain silent unless he wants to be next. Do you understand?
A muffle yes came from the general area of Bethany’s of head.
I wasted no time in delivering the first 6. I used a sharp quick motion, to make sure the strokes stung, but didn’t really cause too much pain. This didn’t stop Bethany from squeaking quite loudly and kicking her legs in time with each stroke.
I paused and re-positioned her slightly, allowing me to tighten my grip around her delicious waist. She squirmed a little, but not enough to escape my grasp. “These next ones will be harder and more painful” I said. She nodded, but said nothing.
I brought my hand down hard upon her buttocks, delivering a resounding spank that caused her whole bottom to wobble and resulted in a loud gasp as the shock hit her. I paused only briefly before delivering the second and third stokes, waiting only for the flesh to rebound before the next smack. This time she groaned loudly, but she made no move to escape me. I carried on, leaving a little longer between each smack, feeling her relax onto my lap, as she started to enter a trance like state.
As I rested briefly after the first 12 shots, I relaxed my grip around her middle. As I did so, she slid her arm underneath her body and peering between her buttocks, I saw her fingers wrapping around her plump lips and sliding into her greasy slit. Now, I am sure some people would not stand for such behaviour, but I am more generous and provided the lesson is being learnt, I have no problems with a little pleasure alongside the pain.
I started on the last 6, timing my strokes to Bethany’s rhythm. She thrust her bottom towards me, clenching her cheeks and releasing them as each smack landed. On the 10th or 11th stroke, she came with a huge sigh, clutching he labia tightly, her legs and torso, shaking as the waves of pleasure rocked her body. This did not stop me delivering the last few strokes with the same vigour, but she made no complaint and lay collapsed across my lap.
After a moment, I instructed her to stand and dress, which she did quickly, pulling up her knickers and leggings over her bruised and damaged bottom. I dismissed her without further conversation and she politely wished me good night before departing.
I stood and watched from the window as she made her way stiffly down the vicarage drive, one hand gently rubbing her buttocks while she sniffed her fingers on the hand she’d used to touch herself. I smiled, no doubt her thoughts were somewhat confused, but in time, she would come to terms with what had happened and would want to make amends for her behaviour.
I returned to my chair, to write up my notes of the evening and to enjoy a small whisky before bed. A most pleasurable and instructional evening I felt, and one that Bethany would not forget in a hurry.
Epilogue:
I am pleased to say that the following week I did see a great improvement in Bethany’s behaviour. She arrived in good time for the class, and when one of the younger children started to misbehave, Bethany gently scolded her and remained composed and focussed throughout. She sat next to Alex and I noted that they left together. Perhaps their shared experience will be the catalyst to a wholesome relationship. I sincerely hope so!