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The Christian Discipline Diaries

Suzzane Smithers

Saturday March 9th, 1996 – I Must Write a Diary About My Disciplining

I am ordered to write this Diary of my Chastisements. There are two parts to my learning Discipline. One is the Chastisements I receive. The other is writing about them in this Diary. I have never written a diary before. I have never been very good in school or writing. But my Pastor and my Husband have ordered me to look at my life and decide if I want to be a good wife. I guess I have been bad. I have failed as a wife and a mother. I must change my life. I started already today with my Chastisement. I can’t go to bed until I have written my Diary into the computer. My Chastisement seemed severe to me. It was the most terrible beating I have ever had in my life. And my mom used to give me some real “ass whuppin’s”. But my Pastor tells me I only had a Moderate Chastisement. That is one which is the lightest kind that counts. But my bottom is so sore and purple and bruised that when my Husband had Sexual Congress with me it hurt so bad I screamed.

I write into this computer. I write what I did today, right and wrong. I write how my Chastisements happened and how my Chastisements feels. Then I print out what I write. Tomorrow, my Husband Domnic reads it and makes changes in red ink. He will point out where I have missed something that I was supposed to write. Then I enter the changes and print it out again. When I am finished I will punch holes in the paper and put it into a 3 ring binder. I will keep what I write each day. Each day I will first write about what happened in the past. Second I will write about what happened that day. Third I will write about what is about to happen. I will look on what I have done, be sorry for what I have done wrong and I will try to be better. I have filled out my Record and punched the holes in it and put it into my binder.

I do not want to go to hell. I do not want my daughters to go to hell. I have frequently been bad and I have tried to be better. I have not done very well at being better. My daughters are starting to take after me and be bad. I want us all to go to heaven. I will do what my Husband and Pastor order. I will try and be like Martha, my Pastor’s wife. I will try and not be like Shannon my sister who is a Whore. I will bear the pain and I will also teach my Daughters to bear the pain.

Morning, March 1996 – A Start to The Change of Christ

My husband Dominic and I met this morning, Saturday, with our Pastor Henry and his wife Martha. We met at their house rather than at the Church. I now realize that my Husband has been meeting with Pastor Henry for some time. My Husband has been trying to figure out how to correct what has been going wrong with our marriage. My Husband has been working to figure out how to control my bad behavior and the increasingly bad behavior of our three daughters, Sarah, Samantha and Sophie. Right now I do admit that the behavior of our three daughters has been getting worse and worse. What I have been struggling with is that I have been behaving so badly. I didn’t think I was. I certainly didn’t think I was behaving so badly to deserve being stripped, tied down and beaten. I didn’t know that in our Church all good Husbands did this to their Wives. This morning was the crisis in my life. My Husband, my Pastor and his wife my best friend Martha confronted me with my bad behavior, the results of this bad behavior on my daughters and the way to change this by way of Christ-Like Submission, Obedience, and Discipline. I have accepted Christ’s mandate and as St. Paul ordered in his Letter I will be submissive to my husband. This morning I underwent my first Chastisement.

In a bit I will describe in detail my first Chastisement. It shook me real up. I had never been given anything like a Chastisement by my Husband. The closest I ever came to this was a buck naked whipping with a switch my mother gave me. But that was really nothing like a Chastisement.

This evening I had a second Chastisement at the pleasure of my Husband and master. In terms of damage it was just about as severe as what I got this morning. But, it wasn’t anywhere as bad because by this evening I knew what was coming. Tonight I was sore and bruised when it started and real sore and even bleeding a little when it finished but I didn’t lose control once. But first I must write about this morning.

Morning, March 9th, 1996 – A Meeting with the Pastor

My family belongs to the Holiness Church. Really the Holiness Church is one of the Strict Observance Bible Churches which are part of the Evangelical Churches of Christ. This means that we are Fundamentalists and Brethren. We are what folks in a big city like Houston or Dallas would look down their noses at. They think we are a “Bunch of Poor White Trash Holy Rollers”. This means that we are out in the piney woods about a two-hour drive from the big city and about ten miles from the big US highway that goes through East Texas on its way to Lufkin, Tyler and Texarkana. The Holiness Church SOBECOC has been my family’s church for about as long as there has been my family. It is by the side of the Farm to Market road that goes between Bocadoches and Wyler. The church is surrounded by big old pine trees that must be 80 feet tall and a hundred years old. The church is about half way between the two towns and there isn’t a house within a mile of the church. It is made of wood and doesn’t have a steeple but it does have high pointed windows with clear panes and green shutters. We holiness folks like things real plain and simple. No stained glass, no organ, no steeple. Inside there is just a floor made of old growth, long leaf yellow pine and waxed four times a year, and a bunch of wooden folding chairs. Up in front there is a simple wooden pulpit and hung from the wall a simple wooden cross and that is about it. Except for the big closet in the front where they store the chairs and hymn books and all sorts of junk. The church must be over 125 years old and was built after the War of Northern Aggression when the first church building was burned by the Yankees. It was only about 10 years ago that they finally brought electricity into the church. We are hoping to replace the outhouses with flush toilets later this year. But you can bet that there will never be no air conditioning or none of that fancy city stuff.

The Pastor and his wife live in a small frame house about 500 feet behind the church and deeper in the woods. The drive from the Church to the Parsonage is lined with giant Hackberry trees. Yes the Parson’s house is painted white and has green shutters. In fact just about everything is painted white and has green shutters. I love their house because it is surrounded by big old live oak trees and has a big porch that goes around three sides of the house. No matter how hot it gets, it is always cooler sitting on that porch. The house is even older than the church because the Yankees didn’t burn it. I knew the old Pastor or rather my mother did and I can always remember sitting on that porch. The new Pastor works across the street from Dominic in Bocadoches. He works for feed and seed store and my Dom works for the Ford dealer. His wife Martha is a homebody like me but she doesn’t have any children so she does all kind of things for the Church.

This morning Dom and I drove out to the Church after dropping off the girls at their best girlfriends house for the day. Like I said earlier, Dom and I have been having a lot of trouble lately, arguing, mostly about the girls. Last Sunday, after services, Pastor Henry said we should come over after breakfast on Saturday and he and Martha would talk with us. I love Martha who is so beautiful and always so nice. They sat us down in the parlor which is my favorite room in the house. Martha and Henry are simple folks, from northern Mississippi. The parlor has a oak floor and white walls with white lace curtains. There are just 5 low back maple chairs, two maple end tables with lamps and a pretty large maple coffee table. Lastly there was a beautiful old burled walnut chifarobe with a center door and mirror. No sofa or stuffed chairs or a bunch of clutter. And the prettiest pictures on the walls. Just plain and simple like Pastor Henry and Martha. I was feeling pretty low and was wearing a old pair of jeans and a sleeveless yellow top and old tennis shoes with my dishwater blond hair clipped into a pony tail. Dominic, as usual was better dressed and had on a pair of slacks and a light blue oxford cloth button down shirt. But Martha was the one who really looked great. She was modestly dressed in deep blue but the outfit was really eye catching. The dress had a high neckline, three quarter sleeves and the hem was well below the knee but it clung to her in the sexiest way. And she had on navy blue high heels and dark blue nylons that looked terrific. She must be ten years older than I am but her breasts are full and shapely and men often look at her in that way that you know they are thinking dirty thoughts. As I walked in I asked her why she was so dressed up and she said that in the afternoon she was going shopping all the way into Cleveland which is about an hour away. I sat next to her feeling dumpy and Henry and Dominic sat across the room. It was a hot day for March but then we don’t have much of a spring here in East Texas.

Pastor Henry started off by picking up the Bible from the coffee table and reading. He read from the Old Testament about the duties of a wife and mother. Then he read from the New Testament about what Paul had to say about a wife submitting to her husband. Thing got real quiet and I started to cry. Then Martha said to me, “I believe what the Good Book says and I owe my husband three things. Submission, I Submit to him at all times. Obedience, I Obey whatever he commands. And Discipline, I lovingly accept whatever Discipline he imposes on me. I have done this since they day my father placed me into Henry’s hands.” At this point she walked over to him and knelt before him absolutely straightly. Now I really started to cry because she was so unlike poor me who is always causing problems. Pastor Henry then said, “Martha you are beautiful but willful. Your father raised you properly and I have followed his instructions. Are you prepared to offer and example to poor sinful Suzzanne here of what is expected of a good Christian wife in our Church?” Martha bowed her head, held out her hands, crossed in front of her and nodded affirmation. Pastor Henry got up and walked over to me. He placed the Bible on my head with his hands on top and said “Suzzane receive the instruction of the Holy Spirit. May the lessons of the Book flow into you through the example of Sister Martha. She speaks not but the voice of her humble Submission, wordless immediate Obedience and adherence to Discipline thunder forth.” He then went over to the chifarobe and opened the door, removed some things, put one of them under his arm and went back over to the kneeling Martha. Then I saw, puzzled that what he had in his hands was a fancy braided rope, mostly dark blue but with some yellow threads. He used the rope to tie her hands in a complicated knot, first wrapping the rope around her wrists, then wrapping the rope around the coils holding her wrists in such a way as to tighten the coils and finally ties the two ends together. “I have lashed your wrists to symbolize that you are bound to me. Your silence is witness to your submission and this lashing is witness to your obedience. Now stand up.” With a wry smile Martha now stood. She seemed to be quite proud of herself and her bound wrists and I could have sworn that she thrust her chest out to make her breasts more prominent.

March 9th, 1996, 9:30 AM – Martha is to Be Chastised

I looked from Martha to my husband Dominic. He seemed to be without surprise as if he knew exactly what was to happen. The Pastor Henry said “Dominic, you need to take command of your family. Unfortunately, your wife has neglected the Discipline of your daughters and has become a slovenly slattern. Are you willing to learn how a Christian father Disciplines his Family.” Dom rose, nodded, and said “I will”. Henry then said, “Martha are you willing to be the model of wifely Christian Discipline for our poor sinful Sister Suzzane”. Martha nodded her head. Then Pastor Henry continued “Dominic, Saturday is the day of preparation for the Lord’s day. This is the day when your family should examine their behavior before you and take Chastisement for their errors. Martha has examined her behavior, confessed to me her Master her errors and is ready to accept my Discipline. I wish for you, Suzzanne’s husband to see how a proper wife practices her Discipline so that you can teach Suzzanne Discipline. Martha, do you agree with this?” Martha nodded and Henry continued “Wife, prepare yourself for your Chastisement”.

Mid Morning, March 9th, 1996 – I View Martha’s Chastisement

At this point I was staring in disbelief. Earlier I had felt bad because I was such a failure as a wife and mother and here I was watching the woman I most admire, silent, fettered, and agreeing to accept a, what’s this about, a Chastisement! I was shocked but there was also a bit of a thrill going through me. What was going to happen to this beautiful and proud woman. She turned to face me, looked me directly in the eye and almost a bit defiantly stuck her breasts out even further. Then with her hands bound before her she reached down, grabbed the front hem of the skirt of her dress and pulled it up to just below her breasts. I almost fell off my chair. Pastor Henry said to my Husband “Dominic, lift up Martha’s slip in the back”. My Husband promptly lifted up the nylon slip, starting with the lacy hem and gathering up the shiny white fabric as he went. When he had it up to the waist, Pastor Henry said “You will notice two ribbons attached to the inside of the slip at the waist. These have button holes on their free ends. Button these ribbons to the cloth covered buttons you see on the back of Martha’s dress just below the color.” At that point I began to understand at least a little of what was going on. Martha’s dress had a couple of button high on the back and her full slip had a set of tabs on the inside so that the entire back of the dress and slip could be gathered well above the waist and hitched up. That dress that I so admired was specifically rigged for spanking. I also now realized that Martha didn’t have and panties on. Her stockings were not pantyhose but were the old fashioned kind of nylons and were held up by a white garter belt. She was going to be Disciplined right in front of me as an example of what a proper wife should be. Once again she looked me directly in the eye and once again smiled.

I also finally figured out what Pastor Henry had under his arm. It was a strap or belt. Pastor Henry then said “Martha, turn around and assume the first position”. The lady I so admired promptly turned away from me, precisely placed her high heel-shod feet about two feet apart, and touched the fingertips of her bound hands to the floor in front of her. At this point she was bent over about 8 feet away from where I was sitting and I realized that I could, from my position, clearly see here genital region. I realized from the smooth condition of her labia that she truly had never delivered a child and indeed still had the fourchette of an adolescent girl. This juvenile impression was further strengthened because she had removed all the hair from her bottom. I must have gasped because her smile became even broader. Pastor Henry said, “Martha your Chastisement is to be 12 strokes. As you know, after each you will thank Mr. Smithers and nicely ask for the next stroke giving its number. If you remove your fingertips from the floor, that stroke will be repeated.”

He handed the strap to Dom and I had a chance to get a good look at it. It was dark brown leather, about one quarter of an inch thick, about two and a half inches across and at least two feet long. The strap was attached to a wooden handle. This comprised a formidable weapon, not as light as even the heaviest belt I had ever seen. I had experienced more than my fair share of spankings from my mother as a child and early adolescent. Some of them were hasty, angry “whuppings” spurred by some particularly nasty bit of behavior, whaling away with what ever came to mom’s hand. But others were more calculating, with my mother setting a time for Chastisement, usually right before bedtime. That way there was the apprehension, which made things worse. There was the humiliation of changing into bedclothes, usually pajama tops or a summer nightgown so that the bottom was more easily bared. Lastly there was the selection of the instrument, a belt or a freshly cut switch. But no belt I ever felt looked anything like that leather strap. I shuddered at the thought of how it must feel. It looked like it was heavy enough to pack a wallop but supple enough so that it could curl around a buttock or thigh and deliver that nasty terminal slap.

Dom walked around and stood just behind at to the left of the stretched over Martha. “Unfasten her garter belt” Pastor Henry instructed Dominic. My husband complied, undoing the three hook and eyes in the back and letting the white undergarment hang down across the front of Martha’s knees. This left Martha’s posterior completely bare from the small of her back where her dress and slip were gathered and fastened to the middle of her thighs where her dark blue stockings started. I was amazed at how white the dark haired Martha’s behind and upper thighs were! I am a “dirty blond” and I don’t think that my skin is that white. Must be that she never goes swimming or sunbathing. As I stared at here backside I began to notice some faint “black and blue” marks. It looks like she must have taken a “licking” a couple of weeks ago and although the blue and yellow had faded greatly, they were not completely gone. With the beating about to begin I found myself becoming strangely excited. The last “ass whupping” I had witnessed was a decade ago when my mom punished Shannon and me for fooling around with boys. The sexual nature of our offenses, being made to strip completely naked for the whipping, and the use of a switch on our breasts and privates in addition to our butts gave that Chastisement a sexual thrill. But that was nothing like this. This was much more formal, more controlled. The sexual overtone was amplified by the presence of the men, and Martha’s being partially clothed. Yes, I was finding this sexually arousing.

Pastor Henry said “the first stroke should be placed right in the center of Martha’s behind”. Dom raised and extended his arm backward, and then swung forward striking her ass with a resounding slap. Martha started forward a bit but her fingertips never left the floor. Before she had a chance to say something Pastor Henry quickly stated “I don’t think that the stroke was sufficiently forceful. Martha, do you think Mr. Smithers could have done better than that? Nod yes or shake no.” Martha nodded her head up and down. She thought that Dominic could have hit her harder! I was amazed because already both of Martha’s buttocks were marked with a two and a half inch wide red band stretching from left to right and curling around the right hip almost to the front. There was even a bit of a welt beginning to form where the edge of the strap met the skin. I shudder to think what this “insufficiently forceful” slap must have felt like. I’ll bet that that one stroke tortured more skin area than five of the fiercest “whupps” my mom my mom ever gave me. Making the pain even worse had to be the position that Martha had assumed. Bent over so severely stretched the skin of her buttocks tightly giving the blow added sting. “Let us repeat the first stroke with a little more sting shall we” prompted my Pastor.

Dominic took a better wind up this time and really put some right shoulder into it. CRACK! Martha really rocked forward this time, barely keeping here balance. She choked and gasped and eventually croaked out “Thank you Mr. Smithers.” She took as deep a breath as she could and then said hoarsely, “Please give me stroke number two.” That one must have really hurt. Despite the skin being tightly stretched by the extreme bending, I saw the strap indent the skin of Martha’s butt by at least an inch. Pastor Henry commented “I think that you now have the basic stroke force down pat. Don’t you agree Martha?” From my position behind her I could see a couple of tears rolling out of her eyes and streaming downward across her forehead. Martha nodded her head in agreement that Dom was now using enough force. Henry now prompted “You may continue. The second stroke should strike the lower part of the buttock just above where the panty crease would normally be.” Dom wound up and delivered a strike right across the fattiest part of Martha’s butt, directly on top of her asshole. WHACK! Again Martha gasped and started forward and a bit to the left as the strap struck her butt and curled around the right hip. But again she still managed to keep her balance. After a couple of breaths to recover she gave the sign to continue “Thank you Mr. Smithers, please give me number three”. “The third stroke should strike the upper part of the buttock, Dominic” suggested Pastor Henry. My husband had to adjust his swing because Martha’s bent over position put the upper part of her behind in a relatively level position. To properly spank that part of her butt, the strap would have to come directly downward. And so it did, rocking Martha forward and down. Her fingertips crumpled and her hands splayed outward, keeping her from falling forward. Between her spread knees I could catch a glimpse of her face and see that it was turning red. “Thank you Mr. Smithers, please give me stroke number four” Martha manage to get out. “The fourth stroke should spank the upper thighs” encouraged Henry. Again, Dominic adjusted his stance and delivered a blow just above the tops of Martha’s blue nylon stockings. Again the tail of the strap wrapped around smartly, this time actually ending up striking the front of her thighs. I now understood why the garter belt had been unhooked and dropped down. If it was still up the leather strap would have struck the elastic suspender possibly tearing the skin when the metal adjustment clip was driven in. As it was Martha was having a hard enough time keeping her composure and balance. “Thank you Mr. Smithers. Please give me number five”.

Because of the width and length of the strap, four blows were sufficient to cover almost three quarters of Martha’s behind with red marks. The red started at the top of her buttocks and continues down to the thighs. Since the strokes had not overlapped, there was some white in between the areas where the strap had made contact but even those areas were picking up a red reactive flare. At this point Pastor Henry instructed my husband to move to Martha’s right side. “Now you will get a chance to practice your backhand stroke” he cheerfully advised Dom. “Step back and take a few practice swings. You will want to get the swing of it.” Dominic took the advice and enjoyed seeing how close to Martha’s right thigh he could backhand swing the strap. This also gave me a better look at Martha than the glimpses I was catching when my husband was applying the strap to her backside. Martha was hanging in there, red faced and teary. However, with my improved view I noticed that she had spread her knees more widely than at first. The lips of her pussy were swelling and I could have almost sworn that they were glistening a bit. Martha took the break in the action to recover a bit of her composure, taking deep breaths in and out.

Soon enough Dominic stepped back in. Hauling the strap in his hand back across his chest and to his left side, he wound up and delivered a resounding smack right across the center of Martha’s ass, curling around her left thigh. I really thought she was going to start up and take her fingertips off the floor that time but she hung on. “Thank you Mr. Smithers, please give me stroke number six” came out of her clenched teeth. Again the backhand swing and the strap struck lower and right over the anus. Martha gasped and hissed but hung on. Finally Martha said “Thank you Mr. Smithers, number seven please”. This was the high buttock, downward shot and once again her fingertips slipped and she palmed the floor. A bit slower came the “Thank you, please number eight”. The stroke to the upper thighs broke her concentration and the fingers came up off the floor as she partially straightened up. “Ut, Ut, Ut” remarked Pastor Henry quickly, “number eight must be repeated because contact of fingers and floor was broken”. My husband wound up his backhand and delivered a solid smack again across the backs of the thighs just below what would have been the panty line if Martha had been wearing panties that morning. Somehow Martha managed to hang on and hoarsely whisper “Thank you Mr. Smithers, please give me number nine”. “Time to re-arrange things again” interjected Pastor Henry. Dom, move around to Martha’s front. The spanks should come down from over her back with the tail of the strap striking her thighs just above the stocking tops.

Dominic moved around and now stood in front of Martha. Now my view would be totally unobstructed. I realized that I was getting really turned on. I became acutely conscious that I was starting to ooze vaginal secretions. My nipples were also swollen. I wasn’t the only one. As my husband stood in front of Martha and practices a few downward swings I noticed a remarkable distention of the front of his pants. It looked like Martha was getting quite turned on. He knees were now quite widely spread and I could see vaginal juices starting to run down the inner part of her thighs all the way to her stocking tops. The swelling of her labia was now very pronounced and her thighs were so spread that I could see a tumescent clitoris beginning to peak out at me. I couldn’t get a clear view of Pastor Henry’s pants front but I’ll bet you beans to bacon that he also had a hard on.

THWACK! Dominic had stopped practice swings and had applied a smack of the strap to Martha’s left butt cheek and upper thigh. A groan escaped her lips but she managed to get out “Thank you, number ten please”. Quickly another blow spanked her right buttock and thigh. Now she was quivering and shaking. With great effort Martha hissed “Thank you Mr. Smithers, please give me swat number 11”. Back to the left ass and thigh my husband went. He realized that although it was awkward standing near Martha’s head and delivering blows from up above downward, the strap made continuous contact along almost all of its length. For my part, I loved this position because it gave me such a great view of all of Martha. Martha was also showing the effect of the strapping. Her wrists and forearms were really starting to shake. There was virtually no white left on her thighs and backside. Three cycles of swats ensured that virtually every square inch of skin got coverage. Over half of her buttocks had gotten hit at least three times with the heavy leather strap and those areas were bright red beginning to turn red-purple. In places there were little red spots where minute blood vessels under the skin had broken. After taking four deep breaths Martha managed to get out “Thanks Mr. Smithers, please give me the twelfth and last stroke”. And so he did, landing a blow on that part of the right butt cheek and upper thigh that had the least bruised flesh.

“ARRGH, ARRGH, ARRGH” wailed Martha and her fingertips came up off the floor. “No No No, Not” went Henry. “Mr. Smithers will have to repeat the stroke.” This time my husband went for the crease between the cheeks before Martha had a chance to reset her fingertips to the floor stance. That and the fact that she has moved her feet to a wide stance and spread her knees meant that the blow curled around with the tip of the strap landing squarely on her swollen labia. Martha started to choke and gag. “I think that the last stroke of the stap properly finished the job” chortled Henry and Dom began to look a little ill at ease. “I have to admit that that last slap was as well done as any I have laid on” said the Pastor consolingly. Martha was now standing with her hands on her knees, read faced and trembling. “Very good dear” said her husband. “You will finish your Chastisement by remaining in that position for 15 minutes. Dom, why don’t you and Suzzane go to the kitchen and have a cup of coffee to pass that time. Perhaps you can have a bit of a talk”.

The Christian Discipline Diaries

Dominic’s Diary

March 1996 – Suzzanne’s First Chastisement

What Actually Happened at the Holiness Church Parsonage

My diary is not available to anyone but me since it is kept on my computer at work. I greatly enjoy letting everybody think that I am a dumb “Cracker” but I didn’t get to be the service manager of the largest Ford dealership in East Texas by being dumb. Also, remember I correct Suzzie’s diary only for spelling grammar and a certain bit of style. Not for fact. I want her diary to reflect her perceptions and feelings. I want those perceptions and feelings to change with time as she becomes a more submissive and obedient wife. Her diary is the record of those changes. My diary is more concerned with facts and my feelings.

Believe it or not, Henry Fisher’s first talk with Suzie and Martha’s chastisement took a little less than 20 minutes. Suzie perceived it as lasting much longer. She was right about the scene having a high degree of sexual charge. You could almost smell it in the air as if it were a phermone-loaded perfume. I have to admit that I was turned on to an almost unbearable degree. Henry and Martha certainly were. We sat in the kitchen from almost 9:30 until after 10:30 and I had Suzie brew a second pot of coffee. We had enough time to almost drink that one down as listened to the moans, groans and shrieks emanating from the parlor. The quiet Suzie mentioned was due to us listening so intently to the smacks and slaps. It was more of a turn on for both of us since our imaginations were replacing visual evidence with fantasies that were undoubtedly much richer than reality.

Afterwards, when Henry and Martha met us in the kitchen there were a large number of subtle or not-so-subtle points that escaped Suzie. She noticed most of Henry’s charge to her. What she missed were the interactions between Henry, Martha and I. She really missed it when Henry charged Martha into my care. Henry stated that Martha should regard me in the same fashion as her husband. Martha was to Submit, to me, Obey me, and be Disciplined by me as if I was Henry. Or maybe Suzie did catch all of the nuances but chose not to record the most significant details in her diary.

Things went much the same way on the drive home. First of all, Suzie sat in the back seat rather than the front – Martha sat up front. Suzie records the instructions about removing her jeans and panties and the difficulties she had in accomplishing these tasks with her hands bound. But she omitted what happened on the second half of the way home. That was when I had Martha unlash Suzie’s hands and I instructed Suzie to remove her sleeveless top and bra. These items of clothing were placed into the plastic bag that already held the leather strap and Suzie’s lower garments. During the last two minutes of the drive home both Suzie and Martha were silent as Suzie sat naked in the back seat and Martha relashed Suzie’s wrists together. Lucky for Suzie there was no traffic on that part of the road that morning and our house is a long way off the road so no one other than the three of us were to witness her final disrobing, binding and naked exit from the car.

Home Sweet Home

When I say we got home I don’t mean a Southern mansion out of Margaret Mitchell or Martha Stewart. Down here we call it a “double wide” although when Suzie would get high and mighty she would call it a “premanufactured” home. It was better than a cheap trailer but it was less substantial than I would have liked. On the other hand it was all ours, without a note, and we owned the 10 acres of woods it sat on. I had central air-conditioning installed and a porch added on the front. With a little bit of landscaping the place really looked nice. In any case, Suzie and Martha had little time to contemplate the house when we pulled up. As soon as Matha sprang out of the car and let Suzie out of the back seat, Suzie was anxious to get inside. Partly this may have been to conceal her nudity (I don’t know why, the nearest neighbor was almost a mile away and there as no way our house could be seen from the road) but more likely because five cups of coffee had taken a toll on her bladder. But she wasn’t going to get off that easy. First Martha had to be dealt with.

“Martha, today, in this house you are the lowest of slaves” I started off with. “You are to be silent and submissive. Nod if you understand.” She nodded indicating her comprehension and compliance with Henry’s earlier instructions. “So, disrobe leaving on only your shoes and stockings” I instructed. As Martha began to fumble with the small buttons high on the back of the collar of her bright blue knit dress, Suzie began to dance from foot to foot indicating her distressed urinary situation. I gave her behind a hearty slap with my right hand. “OK little girl, it seems like you can’t hold it, go and pee on that bush” I said indicating an azalea next to the porch just starting to show pink buds. My blond wife, approaching acute discomfort squatted down and began to relieve herself. Martha, on the other hand was now having problems with the buttons on the middle of the back of her dress. Since she was under a vow of silence she could only pantomime that she wanted help. I told her to undo the buttons on the sleeves of the dress and to remove her narrow, blue leather belt while she waited for Suzie to finish watering the azalea. After Suzie had dampened a patch of ground at least a foot and a half across, she rose and unfastened the remaining buttons on Martha’s dress. “GIRLS!, lets cut the dawdling” I commanded. Martha slipped the dress forward over her shoulders and wriggled her arms out of the long sleeves. She then worked it down over her hips and stepped out of the skirt portion. Martha handed her dress to Suzie who neatly folded it and put it into the bag that also held Suzie’s jeans, yellow top, bra and panties. Martha went and pulled her white satin slip over her head, which not surprisingly revealed that although she had refastened her garter belt after the activities at the parsonage, she had not added any panties to her attire. I suspect that going without panties for the weekend was part of the Chastisement that Henry had imposed on her.

Removal of her slip also revealed that the welts I had administered an hour and a half earlier were maturing into spectacular purple bruises that covered essentially all of Martha’s buttocks and upper thighs. As she lifted her hands to unfasten her bra I noticed other things. At the bottom of her pubic triangle more than her labia were bruised. I expected her pussy lips to be bruised since I had after all given her four good shots with the strap between her spread legs from the back, allowing the tip of the leather to soundly smack her pussy. But her shaved mons veneris and middle pubis were thoroughly red and starting to purple up. The hood of her clitoris must have been swollen to more than twice its normal size and her clitoris was now peaking out from the upper part of her vulvar slit. I began to suspect that the slaps, smacks and shrieks we heard emanating from the parlor were not all love taps. It looked Henry had been at work in the parlor with his belt after Suzie and I retired to the kitchen. As the bra came off my suspicion was confirmed. She tried to assume the classic Venus de Milo stance with one and covering the pubis and a hand and forearm over the breasts but my snapped command “Both of you, hands on top of your heads” quickly revealed that Martha’s ample breasts were crisscrossed with inch-wide red welts. Henry had done a thorough job of making sure that virtually every blow had a teat as its target because the nipples were incredibly swollen. Even the areolar skin around the nipples was one solid cherry-red swollen welt. And lesser welts extended out radially from the center of each breast forming a spider web patter of bruised and painful skin. I now knew that the severe spanking I had administered at the Fisher’s house earlier that morning was only the start for a long severe weekend for Martha. Things were now beginning to make more sense.

First Lickin’ for Suzie

After Martha’s bra and garter belt joined the rest of the ladies clothes in the bag, I unlocked the door and the three of us entered, me first and the two of them standing just inside the door. The two of them stood on the threshold Suzie with her wrists lashed together and both of them with their hands on top of their heads. The relatively dark room was illuminated only by the flood of light coming in the door. I walked behind them and stood in the doorway assessing their relative merits. The first thing you noticed was height, particularly since Martha was in heels and Suzie was barefoot. Martha was relatively tall, perhaps five foot ten inches and had a classic hour glass figure with large breasts, a very narrow waist and slim legs. Pear shaped would be a better way to describe the 5’4” Suzie who had a large butt, thicker waist and smaller breasts than Martha. On the other hand Martha’s breasts were definitely pendulant. Because of the way they hung down, the bra-less Martha was attractive while standing only when her hands were up, as they were now. Those breasts could not only hold a pencil under them but probably a section of broom handle. Suzie’s breasts on the other hand still had that smooth youthful round swell without any sag. Martha’s nipples were normally nowhere the size of Suzie’s nor were they as protuberant and Martha had the merest rim of arolea. However, right now Martha’s nipples stood out because of Henry’s earlier attention, red, swollen and looking as if they were so tender that just the breeze blowing over them would be excruciating. The next thing you noticed was their hair. Martha was a dark brunette and currently her long hair was wrapped into a tight bun. Suzie was the opposite, a medium blond with her hair loose in a medium bob. Now that I am establishing better control over Suzie, this will change. I like long hair swinging free and to hell with practicality. As Suzie noted earlier Martha’s mound was shaved. I had gotten a good look at her backside during the final part of Martha’s spanking and I noticed that even her peri-rectal hair had been depiliated. Since she was a true blond, Suzie’s nether patch was as yellow as that on her head, but I determined there and then that she should start shaving just as Martha did. The last readily visible difference between the two was that Suzie’s thighs were thicker than Martha’s although at 26 years old the dreaded “cellulite” had not made its appearance. Well Suzie, that just gives us all the larger area of tender skin to massage with the leather.

I commanded them to “bend over, feet 30 inches apart, elbows on your knees”. This gave me a view of their most critical differences. Martha’s ass was ok (although spectacularly marked) and her genital region was now prominent because of her thinner thighs and recent abuse. None-the-less her labial lips, although swollen, were smooth. Despite having heavier thighs, Suzie’s genital lips were equally prominent because she had passed three girls out her vagina. The stretched fourchette never gets rid of the wrinkles and redundant folds of skin. Well, that’s the price we pay for progress. I suspect that Suzie’s pussy will provide an interesting target.

Prompted by that idea I removed my belt which I folded over in my hand. “The entrance fee for slaves to come into the house is six. No need for you to count. Just enjoy in silence”. First I stood in front of Martha and gave her three between the legs from over the top. I wasn’t particularly hard but I wasn’t particularly gentle either. However, landing as they did on a sore and tender pussy, they made here dance. Then I stood at Suzie’s head and gave her the first strokes of Chastisement I had ever applied. Initially I gave Suzie four, two left and two right, just where the butt rolls over into the crack. I figured that this was a different form of smack than her mom had ever given her. I used comparatively little force so as not to prepare her for what was to come later. Never-the-less she started each time and had to be coaxed back into grabbing her ankles. Pastor Henry correctly predicted her response. At this time I returned to Martha and forcefully gave her the remaining two right between the thighs. All she did was flinch and hiss. Then I returned to Suzie’s head and administered her remaining two right on the pussy lips. Although the force was much less than in Martha’s case, and Suzie’s labia were not sensitized by a previous spanking and rogering, the effect was traumatic. After the first she stood up, grabbed her behind and started crying. “Bend Over!” I shouted with full force. “You are a willful, wicked woman and deserve everything you have coming to you. Stop your sniffling and resume your Chastisement position.” She looked at me through eyes flooding with tears, snuffled but once again bent over. “Put those feet farther apart, spread those knees. After all the evil things you have done and the way you have neglected the upbringing of your daughters I hope you don’t think that a few tears and howls are going to get you off.” At this point because of the necessity of spreading her knees, I made her hold the insides of her calves. Her relatively shorter legs meant that I had an excellent view of her fourchette from up above and I made use of it. “WHACK” went my belt. The blow was about half as weak as anything I had given Martha but the sound was greater because the belt was doubled over and therefore gave an internal slap. It didn’t matter to Susie. Up she sprang and ran around the living room howling as if I had applied a hot iron to the skin. “Auuugh” she screamed and the tears ran down her cheeks. “I can’t take this, I can’t stand this, I will die”. A command from me brought this nonsense to an end. “Both of you assume the position of Submission before me”. Martha immediately complied and after a few more tearful howls, so did Suzie. I could see that Pastor Henry was right, bondage would be the only way to go with my wife until I had her properly trained for Discipline.

Two Wives in Bondage

Earlier this morning, while Suzie had been fussing getting her self and the girls ready, I had taken a low chair from the dining table, placed it into the middle of the 20’ by 20’ living/dining room that occupied the center portion of our long rectangular house, and placed a bag on the chair. I now called Suzie, hands bound together and the unbound Martha to the chair and adjacent bag which held assorted pieces of rope and other sundries. “Suzie, bend over the back of the chair and place your hands between the front legs of the chair. Now, Martha, tie the ends of the ropes that lash Suzie’s hands together to the front chair legs and onto the bottom cross brace between the sides of the chair. Suzie, shift up onto your tiptoes all the way. Martha, tie her knees together. Now tie her knees to the back legs of the chair.” With all of this done Suzie presented a ready target, backside and thighs ready to receive the strap that I had broken in earlier in the morning on Martha. However, one detail remained. “Martha” I said. “Go over to the rope bag. In there should be a blindfold. Put it on Suzie.” Martha did as she was instructed, shutting out Suzie’s view of the world and leaving her to contemplate her looming Chastisement.

I had sometimes wondered about Suzie’s taste in furniture which ran to darkly stained heavy pine furniture but I had to admit that that chair would make an excellent spanking bench. In our conversation the previous week, Henry had told me that the first time Suzie was Chastised she was like to kick and scream and buck like all get out. In order to control the scene, I would need to secure her to a solid piece of furniture. With Suzie’s feet up and away from solid contact with the floor, the heaviness of the furniture finally played a useful role. I also had to admit that Henry had useful foresight in giving me Martha as an assistant. She was not only knowledgeable and willing in her tasks, but the sight of her nude-except-for-blue-stockings, thoroughly-welted body truly inspired me. Henry had provided me all the support and advice I would need to provide a thorough First Chastisement for Suzie. Now to leave Suzie for a bit of contemplation prior to her spanking.

Now to get Martha ready. I placed a hassock at one end of the heavy pine coffee table that Suzie so loved. It was a really hideous piece of furniture with a central section with base fully as long as its top, a central set of drawers and a heavily turned leg at each corner connecting the base and top. However I would come to appreciate its merits this midday. “Make your Submission” I commanded the tall burnette. She knelt in front of me in the position her husband had taught her, knees slightly apart, resting her buttocks on her heels and hands clasped in front of her”. Martha said, “I Obey you, I accept your Discipline, Chastise me whichever way you choose.” “Very good” I said as I lashed her hands together with an eight foot piece of braided line “I will treat you as your husband has instructed. Stand up.” With her eyes downcast Martha silently and with surprising grace rose to her feet. “Turn around” I said, then fastening a loop of a ten foot length of line around her waist. “Sit down” I instructed pointing to the hassock. Now I went over to the rope bag and brought out a second blindfold. “Take down your hair” I commanded and with her bound hands she removed several metal clips from hair and put them in my left hand. After tossing her head her dark brown hair billowed out well below her shoulders. “Put on the blindfold” was my next instruction” and she complied by covering her eyes with it and rearranging her hair so that the elastic of the blindfold was under her tresses. “Lean back”. This left Martha with her backside on the hassock and the rest of her back, from the small upwards, resting on the coffee table. Her legs, with knees and feet together, dangled off the other side of the hassock. “Hands above your head” I commanded and began to fasten the ends of the wrist rope to the legs of the coffee table. “Schoouch up” I suggested and she moved up the coffee table until just the bottom of her buttocks extended beyond the other end of the coffee table. At this point I passed the ends of the waist rope under and around the top of the table and secured it. Thus she was firmly attached to the coffee table by waist and wrists.

Now to expose her. I attached six foot long pieces of line to each ankle and just above each knee. Then grasping her by the ankles I instructed, “upsie daisy” and lifted her legs up and over until her toes were almost to her head. Next I secured the ankle lines to the legs of the coffee table on either side of her head. Although this spread her legs a little, they in no way revealed her nether charms fully. That was the job of the knee lines. I put an overhand loop into one of the lines, passed it under the table and threaded the end of the other line through it. Now I had some advantage with which to spread her knees and I made use of it drawing the line tight with reasonable effort. Making it fast elicited a mild groan from Martha for as her knees were drawn out and down to the sides of the coffee table they forced her butt up off the end of the table. There she was, butt slightly in the air and knees spread. I remove the hassock from the end of the table, it was no longer necessary to support her thighs and the lower part of her buttocks. “Enjoy that position?” I queried “you’ll have to maintain it for some while.” This caused her to give out a slightly louder moan as she realized that she would be bound in this highly exposed and uncomfortable position for quite some time to come. However Martha, I think, still assumed that she was going to have her perineum thoroughly spanked. Not any fun, but she had been there before, certainly from her husband. I suspect she had also had her pussy whipped by other men at the Pastor’s command. After a sigh, she settled herself down as comfortably as should could given the awkward position and passively awaited her fate. She really didn’t expect what was to come later.

One thing remained yet before I started on the midday punishment of the two women. I turned on all the lights in the living room, closed the door and went over to the closet. Then I took out the video camera and tripod Henry had given me Friday after work. I set it up, focused it on Suzie’s bottom and started it recording.

The Christian Discipline Diaries

Suzzane Smithers

Mid-Morning, March 9th 1996 – Afterwards at the Pastor’s House

I have to admit that I was a bit shaky as I walked to the kitchen. I was every which way emotionally. One part of me was appalled by what I had seen, a friend that I had admired abused in a cruel way. And Martha went for it and submitted to it and horror of horrors, may have gotten turned on by it. I was bothered by the memories of my childhood Chastisements flooding back. Particularly that last buck-naked breast and pussy switch whipping right before I ran away from home and Dom got me pregnant. And Dom and I were both obviously turned on by what we had just been through. We were both too stunned to talk. We just sat there in the kitchen and drank coffee. Yup, Henry and Martha were also turned on by the thrashing, we could hear them grunting away in the parlor. Dominic’s last swat must have landed right on that already swollen twat making it even more sore and tender. What must it feel like being rogered through those swollen lips. As I sat there in silence I looked at Dom holding the strap in his right hand and lightly slapping it into his left palm. It began to soak in what all of this was all about. It was all about me. My time was about to come. My time under the strap. During the 10 years of our marriage Dom had never beaten me. I had endured no Chastisements. Dominic was too tenderhearted for that. And how had I repaid him. By acting the brat and spoiling our girls and ruining our marriage. Looking at my husband I said “Is that for me?” nodding my head in the direction of the strap. He nodded his head back in affirmation. “Did the Pastor give the strap to you?” I queried. Again he nodded. “I guess things will have to change” I said. Again he nodded, laid the strap on the table and took another sip of his coffee. “Martha did this for us, didn’t she?” I suggested. Dom replied finally, “She really did this for you”. Just then Pastor Henry and Martha walked into the kitchen, Martha with her face flushed and long dark hair disheveled. Henry swung a chair around and straddled it. “Well Suzzane you beginning to understand Submission, Obedience and Discipline.” I replied, “I understand it, I just not sure that I can manage it”. Martha came up behind me as I was sitting and gave me a big hug. “Honey, there’s nothing to it. I will help you through your first Chastisement by your husband. And remember I taught him how to properly Chastise. Don’t worry. At first he won’t be anyway as tough on you as he was on me. I am the Pastor’s wife, it is my duty to set the example for all the women of our Church. Honey, this wasn’t nothing, just an every couple of weeks Chastisement. You should see my yearly Discipline. It is a Severe Chastisement. But now your time is come.”

Dom and I stood up. Pastor Henry came up to me and placing his hands on my cheeks held my head. “Suzzane, your husband loves you. But he must be the boss, that is the way it is in our Church. Are you willing to Submit, Obey and be Disciplined.” I nodded my head up and down. “Today Martha demonstrated how much she trusts and loves the two of you” he continued. “She will spend the rest of the day helping you. Now you must immediately go home and be Chastised by your Husband. Later today you must finally begin the Disciplinary training of your daughters. You must stop wearing the pants in the family. You need to learn to dress like a lady of our Church and not like a slovenly slut. Martha will help you with that. You must learn to keep a diary of our spiritual development along the path of Submission, Obedience and Discipline. Tonight, before you go to bed your Husband will review your progress and further Chastise you. Are you ready to go now?” Again I nodded my head up and down. “Then kneel down and I will call down the blessing of the Lord upon you.” I folded my hands in prayer and I knelt there and then in the kitchen. Pastor Henry put his hands on my head and prayed over me. I cried. Then Martha handed him the blue rope and he bound my hands just as he had bound Martha’s hands. He picked up the strap off the table and placed in my husband’s hands. “You know what to do with this” he said to Dominic. Dominic nodded. Henry continued “I will send Martha with you to guide you through the next few hours. She knows and understands”.

March 9th, About 10:30 We Go to Our House

Henry led the way out to our car. My husband opened up the passenger’s side door for me since my hands were bound. Martha got into the back and Dom got into the driver’s seat. As he rolled down the window Pastor Henry poked his head in and spoke to Dom and I. “Woman, obey your Husband in all things, Husband bring your wife along the path of Discipline and love her always. Now go.” We rolled down the gravel driveway to the Farm to Market road that would take us to our home in the piney woods 3 miles away. As he drove he began to give me instructions, “I am serious that I wear the pants in this family. Right now I want you to take off those jeans and panties.” I immediately interjected “How am I going to take them off with my hands tied. And you expect me to get naked from the waist down while driving down this road.” Dom said “Twelve! And the next word out of you raises it to eighteen. I want you ready to receive your Chastisement the moment we pull off the road and into our driveway. Any further comments from you and I will Chastise you right in front of our house.” In the back seat, in her blue dress Martha chuckled. “Then honey, I am going to take you into Cleveland. You are going to get rid of your slacks and jeans and instead get some dresses and skirts. And I show you how to do some subtle modifications to your dresses, skirts and slips to make it quicker to prepare for Chastisement. And when you go to Church tomorrow morning I bet you will know what to look for on the clothing of the women around you. I bet you will be surprised how many women have little fabric-covered buttons on the back of their dresses. And then you will notice how well behaved they are, and how well behaved their daughters are. That is the way with our Church.”

And with that I began to fumble with the belt on my jeans. My hands, bound together were clumsy as I undid the button and unzipped them. I had to take off my tennis shoes before I could get the jeans off and boy that was a task. I had to take my panties off by my hooking my thumbs into the front and wrestle them down. I ripped them but Dom said that was OK because I wasn’t going to be wearing panties much for a while. Dom drove slowly and by the time our car pulled into the drive of our house I was naked from the waist down and ready for my Chastisement. I didn’t say a word for the next two hours. During my “twelve” Martha gave me a piece of leather to bite into. That way I didn’t bite my tongue or break a tooth. She also tied me bent over a low kitchen chair. The two ends of the blue rope lashing together my wrists each got tied to one of the front legs. Dom gave her two short pieces of rope and she bound my ankles to the back legs of the chair. She said it will take some time before I can bend over and take Chastisement the way she can. Until then, it is best to use restraints. Dom certainly didn’t hold back on the strap. I passed out at nine. Martha sponged my forehead until I came around. For the last three Dom made me spread my knees and my pussy became the object of the strap’s attention. After the twelfth stroke my husband had Martha untie my ankles and leave the room. He took me “doggie style” and I have never had sex like that before. I never said a word until Martha and I got into the car to go shopping in Cleveland. Then for the next hour it seemed as if neither of us ever shut up.

March 9th, 5 PM, Back to the Parsonage

Martha and I got back from town with about two minutes to spare before 5:00 PM. Although neither of us said it, I think we were both a bit scared about the consequences of being late. I certainly had a very, very sore bottom and didn’t want it to get any sorer. I can’t imagine what Martha’s bottom must have felt like and I am sure she dreaded any more Chastisement, no matter how “moderate”. We drove down the dirt road to Martha’s house hidden well behind the Holiness Church in a grove of live oaks and magnolias. I could see my husband’s red F150 pick-up truck parked next to their car. Henry and Dominic were sitting on the porch, each with a beer in their hand. As soon as she caught sight of the two men together, Martha stiffened for reasons that I did not immediately understand.

As Matha headed for the house, I took the dress we had bought for her out the back seat and retrieved a couple of her accessory items from the trunk. As I climbed up on the porch Pastor Henry greeted me with “Dja girls have a nice afternoon”. Martha was standing there on the porch looking a bit red-faced. My husband said “Suz, why don’t you set those down on the hall chair, Martha is going to be busy here in a moment”. Dropping off the clothing purchases only took a moment and I quickly came back out onto the porch. Henry announced to the two of us “Martha was not completely, quickly and absolutely Obedient to Dominic as I had charged her to be. She will require further Chastisement. Martha turn around and Suzie undo the back of her dress.” Both Martha and I complied, I immediately and Martha with a bit of reluctance. Once again I assisted as Martha was made to strip until she was clad only in her hose and shoes. This time she had to do it on the front porch of her own house.

As she undressed I noticed how much her swat spots had progressed since we dressed together in the car on our way to Cleveland. She flinched when she took her bra off. Her breasts were now completely purple-red and swollen. He nipples were oozing slightly and the inside of the cups of her bra had a slight blood stain. Similarly she was slow in taking her panties off and there was slight blood staining of the fabric of the crotch. The blood spot was too thin to be menstrual blood. Henry barked, “Martha bend over and spread your cheeks”. Martha turned toward us, with her rear to the door and exposed herself. “No, bad girl, we need to inspect you” he prompted “turn around and spread”. Martha shuffled about so that we could see the results that her two earlier “Moderate” Chastisements had on her bottom. I was horrified and audibly gulped. I swear that every square inch of skin from her belt-line just about to the tops of her nylons as covered in purple bruise. This included her butt, and the inside, back and outside of her thighs. About the only skin that wasn’t purple was in her crack where there was the belt couldn’t reach. Worst of all was her pussy. It was so swollen that the minor and major labia were one tense distended bruise on either side of her introitus. The whole area was abraded and covered with a thin film of blood and mucous. Henry finished his inspection and commented “Brother Dominic, I am glad that at least you follow my instructions exactly. You did a truly excellent job of Chastisement”.

“O.K. Suzie, let’s get going” my husband stated quietly and I hopped to it with a will having received, in my opinion, enough punishment for the day. As we walked off the porch I heard our Pastor instruct his wife to go and harvest a bouquet under the oaks. “Thanks for the tract, I will give it to Suzie to read” Dominic waved and handed me a yellow, eight and a half by eleven, cardboard-covered, thin booklet. He then added, “Mind if I leave my truck here? No sense driving two vehicles tonight. I will pick it up after Church tomorrow.” As I got in the Crown Vic I looked over to the live oak trees and wondered ‘where are the flowers?’ because flowers don’t grow under live oaks, nothing grows under live oaks. As we drove away I saw Martha bending over and cutting something among the oak shoots sprouting up from the roots of the tree. In her bent over position her bruised backside was a spectacular (if intimidating) view. I felt sorry for her because her breasts looked like they hurt just from hanging there in her bent over positions. I will have to ask her what she was picking tomorrow before Church.

A New Way of Life is Coming

As Dominic drove to John and Marsha Hunter’s house, where we had left the three girls at 8:30 this morning, I turned my attention to the thin book that my Pastor had given us. “CHASTISING YOUR DAUGHTER – INSTRUCTIONS FOR CHRISTIAN UPBRINGING”. The author was a Rev. E. E. Norcod who was of the same denomination as all of us, Strict Bible Observance Evangelical Church of Christ. I had never heard of him before but then I am not much of a reader and we don’t have cable TV or any kind of good TV reception out here in the Piney Woods. Dominic said “Suzie, I think that you need to read this very carefully. We have been very lax in the way we have been raising our three girls. We are going to start changing things tonight”. After what had been going on this morning I had a hunch about what that meant.

Over the next five minutes as we drove to the Hunter’s, I outlined to me what I needed to do. We picked up the girls. The Hunter’s were glad to see us and reduce their stock of pre-adolescent girls from five to two. “God Bless! See you at Church tomorrow!” I cried as we pulled away. Dominic immediately stilled the chatter of our daughters as we headed for home. He explained that their evil ways were coming to an end which puzzled them to all out. They hadn’t done anything bad that day they interrupted. SILENCE he commanded. Their behavior had become so out of control that they no longer even new what bad was. This was going to change. ENOUGH! They were cowed and silent and I quietly read for the next ten minutes as we drove home. Then it was march! into the living room and kneel facing the wall with noses just touching the wood patterned paneling. They got a break for our supper. But after supper it was back to “corner time” against the wall until 8:00 PM. At that time we went over their sins for the week. Then it was shower time and to bed.

After they were asleep, Dominic told me “go to our bedroom, undress, and kneel at the foot of the bed”. Shaking with fear I swiftly obeyed his command. As I disrobed and put my clothes in the wash hamper I couldn’t help but notice that prominently displayed on the wall was the strap that had played such a major role in Martha’s and my lives earlier that day. I gulped and started shaking when Dom walked into the room, naked and with an erection. “Stand up” he ordered “and present your hands to me”. My hands were lashed together. Next it was “bend over across the foot of the bed and put your hands under your face”. After, “Spread your feet” it was my ankles that were bound to the lower feet of the bed. I pretty well knew what was coming. He lectured me on the need for absolute Submission, Obedience and Discipline and the need for the same from our Daughters. Then he said, “Twelve good ones, six on each side enforce the lessons of the day”. He went over and took the heavy leather strap down. But he also grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed and put it under my cheek. Then he turned off the light and stood behind me.

I don’t really know how long he waited before he started my Chastisement. I know it seemed like an hour. At first I was trembling but after a while that stopped and I actually got cold. Then I began to get sleepy because I was so exhausted from such a incredible day. Finally he took a deep breath and I heard it come, SWOOSH! I know that at the first smack my body startled involuntarily and I gasped. But I had managed to put my mind off in a fair distant place and said “thank you love, please give me eleven more” spontaneously and in complete control. Dom waited for at least a minute before he gave the next. I counted to seventy-five in my head before the next SWOOSH. Although my rear end was screaming my mind was far away “thank you love, please give me ten more” and so it went. He spared my most private parts. There were no strokes between the legs. He even spared the insides of my thighs. By the time we got to “Thank you Lord, give me six more” my vagina was becoming hot and moist. At, “Thank You My Lord, Three More Please!” I counted to over 100 before the next blow and my vulva was sopping. Eventually, I was trembling in anticipation of the last blow and it was far different than fear alone. When he slipped in his dick I grunted like a feral hog. As he thrust in and out I began to squeal “Fuck Me Fuck Me Fuck Me” as the sensation of pecker rubbing my bruised and swollen privates was more than I could bear. I can’t believe we didn’t wake the kids. Yet I still wanted more, and rougher. He had never been so gigantic and hard inside me ever. We both climaxed at the same time. His cum shot filled my pussy and I squeezed like I have never squeezed before until semen ran down my twitching legs. It seemed as if every muscle from my knees to my neck was contracting. I felt muscles contracting that I didn’t know I had. He just collapsed wordless on top of me, not even pulling out. He yawned and fell asleep on top of me. I accepted the situation and soon I too was asleep.

The Christian Discipline Diaries

Dominic’s Diary

March 1996 – Suzzanne’s First Chastisement

Suzie Gets Her Strokes

I went over to the paper sack that held the ladies clothing and removed the strap that Pastor Henry had given me that morning. I also remove a piece of leather from the bag, put it into Suzie’s mouth and instructed her to bite down on it. I don’t want her to bite her tongue or the inside of her cheek. Henry said that sometimes when wives were being Chastised for the first time they actually broke teeth. Don’t want that to happen. By this point the blindfolded Suzie had been patiently draped over the chair for what must have been 15 minutes. She really didn’t have much choice about being patient since she was bound wrist and ankle to the chair. I think she was really scared since her thighs were quivering. Her knees were bound together otherwise I suspect they would have been knocking together in fear. From the way she moved her head around you could surmise that she was trying to figure out what was going on around her. But other than figuring out that the blindfolded Martha had been bound to the coffee table, Suzie was unaware of anything else going on.

Initially, Suzie struggled against her bondage but after about 5 minutes she realized that the more she struggled the tighter the ropes hurt, cutting into her flesh. If she went limp, the ropes didn’t hurt as much. So there she was, trying to be loose but mostly trembling. Shock from those initial swats I had given her must be starting to wear off. I know that she had been disciplined quite a bit by her mother. In fact there were probably half a dozen very faint, very white 2 to 3 inch long scars on her buttocks and breasts from that final whipping with a switch that her mother had given her. I remember them in the fresh from the first time we made love totally naked. Now what are now thin scars were then open cuts. She was covered with long red lines, double, like train tracks, from the heavier hits. Now you had to know where to look if you were to find them. I had never struck her, never spanked her (except for a few loving slaps on the rear when making love) and never restrained her. That policy had been a failure as she had gotten more out of control as the last decade went by. Those six swats with my belt she received 20 minutes ago was her first Discipline in ten years. I wonder if she is thinking back on her mother’s Discipline of her and realizing that my preliminary swats weren’t much stiffer than her mom’s. Now she waits for what is to come and probably doesn’t realize that it will probably be more concrete than her memories and worse then she imagines.

The only warning she got was the swish of the strap going though the air. I stood to her left. The last twelve inches of the strap came directly down and made a sharp connection with the globes of her tightly stretched buttock’s skin. Her body erupted in a spasm as all her muscles tensed. I guess that a lightly constructed chair would have shattered under the force of her straining. She was too startled to even emit much of a sound. Finally, a somewhat strangled URRGH? came out. I suspect she expected some sort of warning. “Well Suzie. Given your inexperience at adult Discipline, Pastor Henry suggested that we omit all the little rituals that are involved in the Chastisement of truly Submissive wives. There will be no counting, no ‘assume the n’th position’, no ‘thank you’s’ or requests for how many others. There will just be the harsh blows.” Her response was “ARGYRL!” That first swat, delivered with the best effort I could deliver must have been a duzzy. After my experience with Martha earlier that morning I resolved to alternate the use of the end of the strap, directly applied to the backside - back of the thighs with the use of the middle of the strap impacting on the backside/back-thighs allowing the strap tail to swing around and deliver a resounding slap to the sides of the hip/thigh-side. Therefore the second one would be a side stinger. One thing I learned from Chastising Martha this morning was the importance of pacing. Pastor had warned me that because of the excitement that delivering a Chastisement develops, there is a tendency to speed up the rate with which the strokes are meted out. “Slower is better” he preached. And after all, I guess that neither Suzie nor Martha were going anywhere real quick.

So I waited almost a full minute before I took a good windup and delivered the second blow just above where the first one had landed. This interval allowed enough time for a nice red reaction to develop where the strap had made skin contact on the first blow. Not enough time for a wheal to develop in the red area, that would take a couple of minutes. Nor enough time for the red flare to develop alongside where the strap had landed. That would take a couple more minutes. Also this prolonged the time that Suzie had to wait, in tense anticipation for the swoosh that would foretell the approaching blow. SMACK-SLAP. This time her verbal reaction matched her physical one. She wailed “AAAUUUUUUUUUUUU-OAH”. It sounded more like the howl of a wild animal than a reaction from a civilized woman. Simultaneously with the yell, Suzie jerked her hands and feet up. But Martha knew her job and the skillful way that she had worked the knots and lashings ensured that there was minimal slack with which to jerk against. The slow pace with which I worked the application of the strap gave me lots of time to observe reactions and plan the placement of my next strike.

The third blow of the strap went just below the first, over the bottom half of the globe of the buttocks. The tail kissed the right cheek and the center kissed the left cheek. The vocalizations of the victim continued apace making little coherent sense. Since the blows were coming slowly, Suzie had a chance to continue to howl after a strike. The fourth blow was applied to the very top of the thighs. This one was a wrapper with the tip of the strap striking almost the front of the right thigh. I realized an advantage to Disciplining Suzie in the fully nude state. Unlike with Martha where the field of play was limited to between the bottom of her dress and the tops of her stockings, in Suzie’s case I had all of her thighs and lower back to play with. And Suzie’s thighs and buttocks were so much more ample. Therefore a fifth smack landed squarely across the middle level of backs of both thighs, a sixth wrapped around the thighs just above the knees and a seventh went squarely across the middle back.

Time Out

By now Suzie and I were over five minutes into her first real Chastisement. It was obvious that she had never experienced anything like this in her 26 years. With each blow she gave a loud animal howl. During the time that she waited for the strap to swing again, she alternated middle volume shrieks with sobbing and moans. This went something like OU! Augh Augh Augh Oah Oah OH. Intermittently there was snuffling and slurping as her nose filled with tears and mucous and she blew it out and sucked it in. As I surveyed the damage enough time had elapsed that the swelling from the first few blows had started to form wheals and welts. Not bad I thought. I will give her some rest, no need to rush things.

Therefore I went over to the video camera and adjusted it so that Martha was now in view. I then walked over to where Martha lay, bound back down to the coffee table with her knees lashed to a position close to her shoulders. I complimented her, “Certainly this is a pretty view.” As I inspected her, laid out before me in about the most humiliating position possible to imagine, I noticed a defect in the pattern of her Chastisements. Earlier in the morning I had worked her butt and hip sides and lower down had nicely marked the back and lateral sides of her thighs. Both I and her husband Henry had done a rather good job of turning her perineum crimson with purple splotches. But the inner aspects of her thighs remained pristine white. A glaring oversight on our part! Well, since we have time to kill. Whiz, WHACK! The tail of my strap smacked Martha’s left inner thigh just above the stocking top. The blow was so unexpected that she uncharacteristically broke her stoic silence and cried out “God Damn It, Why did you have to go and do that?” The words were out and she realized the error of her ways as I shifted my stance. “I just wanted to make sure you were alert” I replied. Swoosh, WHACK!, strap tail connected with right inner thigh. “I am shocked by you inability to maintain a Submissive silence as you were commanded” I said. “I will not allow that shocking language to go unpunished.” I left her thinking about what was to come, shifted the view of the video camera and returned to Suzie.

Back to Work

By now Suzie’s sobs had diminished and softened to the point where it was obvious that she was back under control. “I am glad to see that you have regained your composure” I said. “Let’s see if you can comport yourself a bit better during this next session.” Since during the first series I had paid disproportionate attention to her right side, this time I stood on her right to practice my cross-body backhand on her left side. “We will repeat the previous pattern, alternating smacks across the cheeks with tail-wrappers to the left and side, my dear” I explained. For reasons that escape me she nodded her head up and down as if her consent was required. Shwish, WHACK! Across the center it went, overlapping the first and second hits of the first series. This time Suzie’s composure was much better. No more than a smothered “Yip” escaped her firmly clenched lips. I guess she had learned what to expect. Shish WHUP-Slap as the second curled around her left butt check and slapped the left hip. Again no more that a stifled “Yelp” followed by a deep taking in of breath. I think she was learning to bite down on the leather whenever she heard the swish of the strap signal an incoming blow. I maintained the agonizingly slow pace for the remaining 5 swats completing the pattern. Nothing like symmetry of the right and the left. There was now precious little white remaining on her backside. Furthermore very brightly red specks were appearing where the blows from the second series were superimposed on the welts from the first series. Two blows, one on top of the other, from this heavy strap were enough to draw minute blood blisters on Suzie’s soft, delicate pale skin. Her composure during this second cycle of strappings was exemplary. “Well Suzie, you bore that set of strokes almost as well as Martha would have, didn’t you” I complimented. Both Suzie and Martha were savvy enough not to reply. Time to give Suzie a bit of a breather. So I slowly and silently walked over and adjusted the video camera then crept over to Martha. Swish/SWAK, swish/SWAK added a matching set of right and left marks to her inner thigh, just higher up from and overlapping on the previous ones just above the stockings. However, Martha must have heard me coming or was alerted by the swish of the descending strap because she wasn’t sufficiently startled to blurt out in response to the stinging blow. “Just checking to see if you were alert” I chided her.

After once again adjusting the camera, I returned to Suzie and commented “Well since you seem to have accommodated to strokes across your bottom, maybe its time for something different”. Standing at her head I inspected her bottom from the top and determined that each cheek was roomy enough to fit four hits apiece with only minimal overlap. I also figured that Suzie was holding up well enough to bear a slightly faster pace. I said to myself, “lets see, I usually start on the left so this time let’s start on the right”. Therefore I rained four blows in succession down on the right buttock, starting on the lateral side and working over to the crack. SwishWACK, SwishWACK, SwishWACK, SwishWACK. Suzie lost it. At the first blow she gave the expected “Yip” but the second hit just as she was taking a deep breath recovering from the first whack. “ARGLF” was her half strangled cry followed by a gasp just at the third blow hit. She was in mid scream “AAAIIIGH!” when the fourth and final smack of the series landed. I figured I would let this new method of Chastisement sink in. So while she sobbed and cried for a couple of minutes I readjusted the camera and went over to pay some further attentions to Martha. By now Martha was onto my game, listening intently. Even though she couldn’t see what I was doing, I could see her tense as I went into my wind-up. Well, we’ll give her a little variation. This time I started right at the point where the thigh met the groin -WHACK, right inner thigh -WHACK, left inner thigh - WHACK, right thigh, right below that - WHACK, left thigh, right below that. Nary a peep emanated out of the dark-brown-haired lady. “Very good, I am so proud out of how fast you learn” I said to her. Now back to Suzie and another series of blows from above, this time devoted to the left buttock and upper thigh. SwishWACK, SwishWACK, SwishWack, SwishWack. Suzie did better this time. No yells or screams emanated from her but she was softly crying as I returned to Martha and gave her a final six to the inner aspects of her thighs. Martha’s thighs now had a more uniform appearance, cherry red on the lateral side, cherry red on the inner side and hamburger purple-red on the back.

By the time I was finished with Martha’s inner thighs, Suzie had fully regained her composure. First I readjusted the camera once again. I walked around to the back of the chair which presented the backside portion of my wife and inspected the results so far. Quite striking. The central portion of her ass had received three cycles of spanking and was clearly the worse for wear. The most prominent parts of those surfaces were now all purple red bruise with tiny little blood blisters popping up everywhere. “Well my dear, time for the finale, something you won’t forget for some time”. I now knew that I could maintain Suzie for long periods of painful punishment if the interval between blows was long enough. However, Suzie had a harder time sustaining control when the blows came fast and unexpectedly. And now I wanted her to truly break down. She had been under Chastisement for about thirty minutes now and had sustained twenty-two strokes of the two and a half inch wide, 24” long, heavy leather strap. I would finish her off with about a dozen or so of the hardest blows I could manage as quickly as I could apply them across her already bruised ass and thighs. And so, without further warning I started. I stood a little over three feet directly in back of her, both hands grasping the handle of the strap and laid them on. First striking to my right and hitting her right ass cheek, then to my left and hitting her upper left buttock, then right to her upper thigh and so on. I lost count but I think I gave her eighteen strokes before I had to stop and catch my breath. By that point she had stopped the continuous shriek that had started about the sixth blow. Suzie had passed out and a trickle of blood was running down each buttock.

After I caught my breath I checked Suzie’s pulse, rapid but full - and her breath, rapid and shallow. Well my dear, you exerted your final measure of control. You fainted, thereby temporarily removing yourself from the sphere where I could inflict further pain on you. We have both found our co-mutual limit. “I will grant you complete respite until you come around to me again” I intoned. At that point I undid the lines that bound her knees together and fastened her ankles to the chair legs. I also loosened but did not remove, the ropes that held her lashed wrists down. Martha was now going to get my full and undivided attention and this would constitute the surprise of her life.

Martha Gets Hers

The proud beauty of the Holiness Church was now spread helpless before me. I thought for a while about where to put the video camera in order to get the best shot of what was to follow. I decided to place it to halfway between a side shot and a shot directly from below. I knew however, that there was no single angle that would capture what was about to happen. I walked up to Martha, she had a smile on her face. I am sure that she thought she could see though any of my petty plans and games. She probably thought she had been through it all before, was far more experienced than I at this, and that she was actually in complete control. She was wrong. Many though her Submissions and Chastisements had been she had never been ravaged. She never imagined that Henry would put her through that, always reserving the right of intercourse to himself. I dropped my pants and lowered my shorts – Martha was about to enter a whole different aspect of her education.

“Martha” I said while I stroked my distended penis. “I’ll bet that you think you know what is going to happen now. I got a hard on when I started spanking you this morning. I have had unrelieved tumescence since then. I listened to you and Henry go at it in the parlor and refrained from screwing Suzie on the kitchen table at that point because of some advice your husband gave me. On the ride home and in front of my house I watched Suzie and you strip and didn’t do what my balls were telling me – hump the two of you there and then on the spot. Now I am done administering Suzie’s basic Chastisement to her. At this point you figure that I am supposed to fuck the livid hell out of her to complete the job. And you will listen and get turned on again, just as you did when I was spanking you earlier this morning. Then you will go home, recount to Henry what happened and he will roger you until your ears bleed. Right.” Martha nodded her head up and down in agreement and anticipation of what she expected to hear, me do Suzie. How wrong she was.

I squatted down in front of her spread legs and grasped each of her labia with my fingers. Martha’s vaginal mucosa was significantly abraded. Earlier today Henry must have fucked her fairly roughly. I stuck in two fingers and wiggled them around in the copious vaginal secretions. Martha shrieked and clenched her perineal muscles squeezing hard trying to keep my fingers out. This was obviously not what she expected. She was enough of a pain slut that my recent strapping of her inner thighs had turned her on and juiced her up. I am sure that listening to Suzie’s agonies had excited the sadist in her as well. Well this wouldn’t be a dry run. “Well, well, well. Tight, juicy pussy for lunch” was my statement as I shoved my dick up into her. At that point all hell broke loose. I can only compare it to one thing in my life. When I was 12 years old I baited and wire snared the biggest, oldest tom coon in all of East Texas. You have never seen such a commotion in your life as that coon ran the length of that wire from one end to another. If it was his paw that was snared he could have easily cut it off for the wire was thin and he was running full force to and fro. But the wire was around his neck and so I had him. I have to admit he had one hard head to bash in. I still have his hide. Martha bucked like that coon struggled.

And my, did she shriek and scream. “You can’t do this to me. I will not lie with a man other than my husband. Get off of me. NOOO! GET OFF OF ME! NOOOOOOO! OH GOD! OH GAWD! OOOHHH GAAAWWWDDD”. It was a good thing that there was nobody within miles or they probably would have heard her clearly. Boy did she fight. “RAPE! RAPE! RAPE” Martha screamed. She tried to buck me off but my rope work was too skilled, her position too compromised, and I hung on for dear life. Working my pecker in her was more complicated. Fortunately as I mentioned above she was well lubricated or the job might have been impossible. She had the muscles of her pelvic floor clenched tight in an attempt to keep me out. However, when she drew breath after a scream she slightly loosened. This allowed me the opportunity to drive my dick in fully. When she clenched again I pulled out, milking my penis as it withdrew. Slow but what a feel. Then I discovered a trick to give me control of her screams, her tits and my teeth. First I had grasped a nipple in my teeth to try and turn her on. In her struggles I bit down. “AAUUGHH!” Martha screamed. “DON’T BITE, NO BITE, YOU’RE TEARING MY NIPPLES”. I managed to get three strokes in. So I tried the other nipple. “NOOO! I WILL KILL YOU! HENRY WILL KILL YOU!” got me four strokes. “I’LL GET THE LAW ON YOU! YOU WILL GO TO PRISON! NOOOOOH!” got me another four in and outs. Hey, I figured, I’ve learned something. I alternated my attack back and forth between her two breasts and thereby facilitated my attack in and out of her vagina.

Eventually her hoarseness increased, the volume of her screams diminished and her pussy muscles must have started to cramp because her clenching weakened. It didn’t make much of a difference because now I was on a roll. My thrusts became more rapid and deeper. I have no idea how large a size my penis had swollen to but it must have been considerable. I am regarded by my friends as being unusually well endowed. And today I had intermittently had a hard on for almost 3 and a half hours now. I know my testicles were swollen since the ride home and flogging Suzie had given me an erection of epic size. Martha’s clenching had just about finished the job. Although I had always prided myself on my endurance during sex, today was unusual. I had never entered a woman this turned on and this was not going to be an all-afternoon session.

I started sucking and licking Martha’s nipples and areolar skin. My biting had caused numerous cuts and her tits were starting to bleed. Talk about a turn on, try the taste of blood in your mouth during intercourse. I was building up a head of steam and was starting to grunt. I grabbed her long brown hair in my hands as I began to thrust even more deeply. If she was saying or screaming something or just moaning I really don’t remember. For the last hour I had the most massive case of “lover’s nuts” I had ever experienced and I could sense myself start to build to a climax. And then it hit! The most gigantic, massive ejaculation I have ever experienced. Talk about getting your rocks off. As I shot it in I could feel my testicles contracting up and my prostate squeezing. At that point Martha, involuntarily I am sure, clenched her pussy muscles milking me for all I was worth. I’ll bet my prostate gland shriveled to the size of a pea. After that last mighty thrust I stayed inside her becoming detumescent and going limp.

Even More For Martha

Eventually I slid off the dazed Martha. She lay there, quietly moaning and shaking just a little. I checked the video camera, there was still lots of tape left. That had been the best pussy-banging ride I had ever experienced. I had to admit that I was shaking a bit. My pecker had shriveled to a stump no more than an inch and a half long and I swear that my balls had sucked up into my abdomen. Martha lay there with her legs drawn up and so tightly bound down that they were parallel to her trunk and actually a bit below the level of her chest. Her perineum was so prominent it almost stuck out and the lips of her vulva were purple, swollen and distended. I closely inspected them and noticed that they were now really abraded and at least a dozen minute cuts were each oozing a drop of blood. What must have been half a cup of semen was oozing out of her vagina, flecked by the bleeding from the minute cuts. Up above, her breasts lay flat spread across her chest, rolling hill rather than peaks. Her nipples now looked like raw hamburger and there were half a dozen bite marks on each areola. The blood pooled around each nipple and a light trickle ran in at least four tiny streams down each breast. Her head limply lolled to the side and her totally disheveled hair spread out around he head in all directions. He body was finely covered with sweat and her hair was soaked in sweat. She was starting to shiver finely. Finally, she moaned “fuuuuccckk”. I replied, “yes my dear you have been well and truly fucked and you look like hell”. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, the living room was quiet. I could hear Suzie starting to stir. She was coming around after losing consciousness.

Well, Martha, the ice queen, the noble and haughty creature had totally lost control. I had found her breaking point, as Henry had suggested, and driven her past it. I knew what forms of Chastisement she could not tolerate. It would be some time before she would develop new coping and control mechanisms. Until that happened her husband and I would drive her and drive her and drive her into Submission. An easier case was my wife Suzie. She was just beginning her disciplinary pathway and it was easier to drive her over the edge. As these thoughts ran through my head tumescence began to return to my penis. Yes, pretty soon I would accomplish the proper Submission of my bound wife. But first Martha needed a just a little more attention.

First, I needed to clean up my Pastor’s wife a little. I went into our bathroom and got a bottle of 70% isopropyl alcohol and a bag of cotton balls. First, I would tend to Martha’s breasts since they had been cut up by my bites worse than her pussy had been battered by my pecker. I lightly dipped a cotton ball in the rubbing alcohol and began to sponge away the blood. “What are you doing? Ouch, ouch, ouch! OUCH! she exclaimed as I went from mopping up blood to swabbing the cuts. “Well” I said, “it looks as if the ice queen is not dead after all but only swooned as a result of her romancing.” “I don’t think that this is funny at all. I don’t think that this is what Henry had in mind when he charged me over to you this morning. There are going to be a lot of consequences to this. Your actions have been OOUCCHH!!”. I had finished with her nipples and the skin of her areola and had turned my attention, cotton balls and rubbing alcohol to her battered pussy. I explained “My queen. It appears that your nether regions were not as badly battered as your boobs during Mars’ war with Venus. However the sensitivity to alcohol of Venus’ lips is far greater than the sensitivity of Venus’ nipples”. “I don’t think you understand what you have just done.” Martha exclaimed “YOU HAVE JUST RAPED ME! My husband is going to be beside himself.” She continued to blather on while I search about for the belt to my pants. She was working herself up into quite a lather.

“Martha” I explained as I slapped the looped belt into my left palm, “I would not make assumptions about your husband and his attitude toward your Chastisement. You need to notice three things. First, you, bound hand, foot and waist to my coffee table are in no position to be haughty right now. Second, your pussy and breast are right now extremely sore and rather battered. Any further attention paid to them is likely to be accompanied by a great deal of pain. Third, you are supposed to be a penitent Submissive undergoing Chastisement and I your Master am standing here with an implement of Chastisement in my hand. Given these three conditions how many strokes should I give apiece to each of your breasts and to your pussy.” Martha gasped. She couldn’t believe that she was in for further pain and humiliation. She couldn’t be getting another beating. I had already battered her bottom with a heavy strap at nine o’clock this morning. Her husband Henry had then followed this up with a spanking of her tits and pussy shortly thereafter and then fucked her violently. About eleven AM I had given her pussy a light belting and fifteen minutes later had applied the heavy strap to her inner thighs. This had been followed by what she viewed as an attempt to rip her nipples out and destroy her cunt during a terrible rape. And now here she was, spread out and helpless as I was telling her things weren’t over yet. “What have I done to deserve this” she asked. “My behavior this last week has been exemplary. I thought I was in for nothing more than a ‘maintenance’ spanking. Now I have been raped and battered more severely than I have ever been hurt in my life. BAAGH! And I don’t deserve it BAAGH, It’s not fair BAAGH!” At this point she began to loudly cry.

Whap! My belt made contact, coming squarely down on her swollen labia. She started to scream. I had learned today that once a woman was beginning to shriek during Chastisement you had her well on the road to breakdown and true Submission. What was necessary at this point for punishment be carried out rapidly before she can reestablish control over herself. This process is aided by varying the Chastisement unexpectedly. Bondage was essential in this process since it gave complete control to the Chastiser to focus punishment wherever he chose. “I think that a dozen will suffice, I suppose” I said as I rained down a half dozen blows on her vulva as rapidly as I could swing my belt. Martha’s howling was now continuous. With only half of the promised dose delivered, I switched my attention to her left breast. Believe it or not Martha increased the rate and volume of her screams in response to this unexpected move. She had been counting to herself. After half a dozen smacks to the left breast, I switched to the right. This she expected and the shrieking actually slightly diminished. Well, we can maintain the expected order for a while. After half a dozen to the right breast I quickly returned to whipping pussy. With a total of a dozen belt slaps to the pussy lips, the bleeding that had early been staunched resumed. At that point I returned to her nipples. I finished the dozen I had promised to each of them. As the last of the promised blows came down on the right teat, Martha’s screams abated to sobs. She obviously thought that this part of her punishment was coming to an end. That is when I gave her an unexpected bonus of another half a dozen on the cunt. She responded to this with some of the finest thrashing about and verbal fireworks of the day. “Such language coming from the Pastor’s wife” I exclaimed. “I will have to mention this to Henry. I suspect he is likely to severely reprimand you for taking God’s name in vain”.

I suspect that at this point Martha realized that she had once again totally lost control. I’ll bet that she began to realize that something far more complicated was going on than she had thought earlier in the day. This must have been the reason why she was so silent as I once again mopped up the droplets of blood drawn forth by the Chastisement of such tender and swollen parts. I know that the rubbing alcohol must have stung worse than earlier. But nary a sound. Martha was thinking. Similarly, no response was elicited when after what must have seemed an eternity of torture I untied her bonds and unlashed her wrist bindings. She must have realized that her torment was temporarily at an end but that a new chapter in her Submission life had begun. However, one little detail remained. The blindfold stayed in place. I did not want her to see the video camera running.

A Little Bit of Dick For Suzie

The next thing was to lead Martha to where Suzie, draped over the chair, was recovering. With Martha now safely pointed away from the camera, I removed her blindfold. “Martha, you are truly the mistress of the ropes.” I said with a tiny sliver of sarcasm. “I want you to secure Suzie’s knees in the maximally spread position to the chain”. The battered lady was unwilling to either argue or respond to my humor and simply complied with my request. She was learning. She may have also been interesting in what I was intending to accomplish with my half conscious wife. Although immediately after having ejaculated into Martha I would have sworn that there was no sexual drive within me, I was beginning to have second thoughts about the celibate life. Plying Martha’s most sensitive parts with my belt and Martha positioning my wife so as to present her pussy in the most favorable position seems to have sent a message to my dick. That short third leg in the middle was coming back to life. I figured the time had come to rouse my “sleeping beauty” from her slumber.

“Martha, you can slide back a couple of feet and watch what I am going to do” I said softly as I wound up my belt. Martha, having no desire for any further contact with leather in her immediate future moved out of the way. “Good Afternoon Dear” I crooned as I brought the strap down squarely on top of her slightly swollen but still corrugated labia. “OOOWWWEEE!” shrieked Suzie as she suddenly came back to full consciousness of her exposed position and my renewed attention. “Please don’t hit me anymore” she pleaded. “I have been hurt enough today. And please above all, don’t hit me there. Hit me anywhere but there”. Swack, I landed a second blow right on her cunt asking “Just where is there, my dear?” “AAUUGHH!” she screamed then gasped “There is where it hurts”. I persisted “What do you call it”. Swack went a third swat. NOOOO! PLEASE NO! DON’T! My wife Suzie was losing it again. Martha helpfully interjected “Suzie, I think he wants you to properly plead by naming the spot”. Swack went the fourth blow. “OOOOHHH! PLEASE DON’T HIT MY CUNNY!” cried Suzie. He pussy lips were now really starting to swell, smoothing out the wrinkles she had ever since our 8 year old was born. SWACK, a really hard 5th strike hit home. “That’s not what its called” I said while being drowned out by the caterwauling. “OOOOOOO! AAAUUUG! Please don’t hit my VAGINNNA!” she was trying to play the game while not totally losing control of herself. Well, I thought, maybe after six suzie will figure it out. I hope so because Mr. Dick is standing at attention. Swack! “PLEASE DON’T HIT ME, PLEASE FUCK ME!” “Bingo” I said as this time I swung something other that my belt at her worn pussy lips.

Oh Boy. One of the reasons I love my wife is her creamy wonderful cunt. After doing venereal battle with Martha the Ice Queen I was reminded of how much more I prefer my wife. Delicious. And I was equally surprised that after my massive orgasmic ejaculation into Henry’s wife, that I still had spunk to spend on my own. Ah Well. Some days are better than others and still others are really good. Afternoon Delight.

All Good Things Must Come to an End

Eventually I put the blindfold back on Martha who had sat quiet as a mouse. I think that I had really put the fear into her. Dominic the black, curly haired savage. Major threat to womanhood. I untied Suzie, leaving her blindfold on. Taking each of the naked ladies by the arm I walked them out to the Crown Vic. I deposited Martha behind the wheel surmising that she, although bruised and battered and probably unsure if anything she once believed in life was still true, was in better shape than Suzie. I instructed them to sit still (they had little choice since I had the keys) and went back into the house. I stopped the video camera and set it to rewind. Retrieving the bag with Martha’s slip and dress I went into our bedroom. Let’s see, I need a dress for Suzie. Unfortunately she wasn’t much into dresses but eventually I found a ghastly yellow flowered sundress and petticoat. That would have to do, I thought stuffing it into the bag. Going outside I tossed the bag through the open window of the big Ford sedan into the back seat. O.K. girls, take off the blindfolds. They blinked at the bright East Texas sun shining through the tall long leaf yellow pines. “Your clothes are in the back of the car and Suzie, as I said, the time is come for you to learn how to wear a dress.” I opened up my wallet and removed a plastic card which I handed to my wife. “Since both of you have had a traumatic day so far, Henry and I think you might need a little break in-between Disciplinary sessions. There is a $1,500 limit on this right now.” My wife gulped. It was a charge card to her favorite clothing store in Cleveland. “Hank figures that Martha needs a new dress and I know Suzie needs at least three plus skirts and blouses. That should barely be enough to get you by. Let me strongly admonish you – as Henry would say. If you are not at the Parsonage by 5:00 PM sharp, neither of you will be able to sit at all for a week”. They didn’t stop to even put their clothes on as they sped down the drive in a shower of gravel. They probably dressed on the road in order not to lose valuable shopping time.

I went into the house to find the tape in the video camera had re-wound. First, I went to the fridge and grabbed three long-necked Lone Star’s between my fingers. Then I went over and sucked one down while I hooked up the camera to the VCR. While the VCR started copying the tape that the video camera was playing I went to our john and took one of the more satisfying pisses of my life while sucking down the second Lone Star. Then I sat down to watch the TV display the tape that was being copied while I sucked on the third Lone Star. Henry, I thought. You may be my best friend and you may have dropped into my lap in the last hour and a half the two finest screw jobs of my life, but I am not going to give you the only copy of this tape. I just have to make one for me.

The Christian Female Discipline Journal

E.E. Norcod, D.D., Ph.D., Editor

Facilitating the Submission, Obedience and Discipline

of Girls and Women Throughout the Christian World

Volume X, Number vi, June 2003

Editor’s Forward to the Issue

In this issue of the CFDJ we continue our series of the Christian Discipline Diaries, one of our most popular features. We return again to the Holiness Church in the Piney Woods of East Texas. This set of Diary entries differs from last months installment in that we see four differing points of view of the same event, the Sunday Afternoon Stern Chastisements. We begin to see the different spectrum of Female Disciplinary needs and how local Evangelicals adapt their Disciplines to their local conditions and circumstances. Practical example is always the best exemplification of theory I say. The communists never seem to understand this and this is why their system failed. The Papists understand this and this is why their system, particularly with its tolerance of the mixing of the races, is so dangerous to us.

Two points should be observed in this lead article. The first concerns the reality that my theoretical division of Chastisements into three categories is absurd. The second concerns the use of Sexual Congress as a Disciplinary Tool. The experiences of our Brothers and Sisters in East Texas show how practical example always trumps theory when it comes to the Perfection of the female.

Upon many occasions I have been asked which is the superior Implement of Chastisement. It is always expected that the reply will be the “Norcod” whip. This is not true. Chastisement is a spectrum far more complicated that a simple division into Home, Stern and Severe. Implements are more complex than strap, switch and whip. This article beautifully exemplifies the severity that can be accomplished in a Stern Church Chastisement. Martha’s Chastisement began on Saturday with her Weekly Home Chastisement. Her buttocks, thighs, breasts and PPP were strapped to the extraordinary degree described in the May issue of this Journal. Her Sunday Stern Church Chastisement, described in this issue of the Journal causes as much physical damage as many whippings. This is because of the thoroughly bruised condition of her backside to begin with and the vigorous application of a thin triple switch. As a result the swollen skin of her buttocks was cut by the switches so severely that she spent the next five days on her belly in bed. Martha is obviously well along in her road to Perfection. Mary, on the other hand also underwent a Stern Church Chastisement. Her preparation the night before was no more than a half dozen slaps with a light strap, scarcely enough to bruise. On Sunday Mary was given twelve light strokes with the rod on what amounted to a “virginal” backside. Mary has hardly set her first foot on the Road to Perfection. The Gulf of Lazarus lies between these two.

Similarly, this issue brings up the role that Sexual Congress can play in obtaining S.O.D. There is no greater example of Submission and Obedience of a Wife to her Husband than her Obeying his instructions as to the type of activity demanded in Sexual Congress. When a Wife achieves Perfection she becomes the complete slave to her Husband. Although Martha is well along in the Road to Perfection she still has much to learn about S.O.D. as described herein. Congregants in the Lapsed Christian Faiths are often shocked when they learn of what a Strict Observance Husband may demand of his Wife or the Women who he is responsible for. But I can assure you from my own personal experience that in Sexual Congress lies the ultimate tests of Perfection.

The Christian Discipline Diaries

Dominic Smithers

Sunday March 10th, 1996

Before Church

After the incredible stresses and strains of yesterday I woke up this morning feeling totally wasted. And so did my pecker. I and it had done triple duty on Saturday and we were both worn out. I hoped that the morning would be quiet and the afternoon, if not quiet would at least not be insane. My wife Suzie was up and bustling earlier than usual. She seemed unusually chipper considering she had her ass beaten to a pulp yesterday and was brutally fucked twice. She was bustling and hustling, got the girls up and dressed, cooked a big breakfast and had everything ready for Church fifteen minutes early. Women, I will never understand them. Their hidden reserves of energy. Their ability to thrive in adversity. I do have to admit that she looked devastatingly pretty in her new yellow dress. And her white stockings. Which I knew were held up by a lacy white garter belt innocent of underwear. I wish that we could blow off Church this morning. I would send the kids off somewhere, rip off Suzie’s and fuck her brains out, probably right on the living room floor. But duty calls.

For several months now Henry Fisher, our Pastor, has been talking with me about taking on a larger role in the Church. Since he started the Church Chastisements about a year ago there has been a quiet but steady buzz around old Holiness Bible Church. These sessions on Sunday afternoons are closed to all but the participants ,all of whom are what are called “Strict Observance” members of the Church. This means that they take the strictest literal interpretation of the Bible. Particularly about the running of the Home and the place of the Wife and Children. In practical terms these are the folks where the man wears the pants in the Family. Originally when I heard about Strict Observance I thought it was a lot of backwoods hooey. But Henry helped me to understand how my Family was drifting and how Strict Observance could get it back on track. Yesterday was the crisis day when Suzie accepted Submission, Obedience and Discipline from the Lord, our Pastor and her Husband. There’s not a lot of theory to Strict Observance just a lot of common country sense. Today we will attend our first Church Chastisement. My Wife will exhibit the fruits of her chastisement. And I will take a new step forward in the Church.

Ever since Holiness Bible Church started Sunday Church Chastisements, the Pastor’s Wife Martha has been meting out punishment to the Wives and adolescent Daughters subjected to Discipline. As the ranks of the Strict Observers at Holiness have grown, the number and range of Chastisements have grown. The Pastor feels that a stronger hand is needed to supplement Martha’s. Not that she doesn’t go about her work with enthusiasm. Besides, she is frequently in need of Chastisement. And although in the bosom of her Home she can be Chastised by her Husband, the public Chastisements should never be given by your Husband. This is all laid out in a set of pamphlets by a famous Evangelical minister Rev. Norcod. So I am to become the Co-Disciplinarian for the Church. Actually sort of an assistant Pastor. That’s why yesterday was a sort of test for me as well as for Suzie. Could I do what was needed to be done, firmly and exactingly, carrying out Pastor Henry’s instructions regardless of how I felt or thought. I guess I passed. I did what I had to do. And this afternoon I will do what I have to do.

Sunday March 10th, 1996

Sunday Services

Boy, what a difference a day makes. I am much more fully aware of the excitement that Strict Observance has brought to our little country Evangelical Church. For instance, now that I know the significance of those two little buttons on the backs of the Women’s dresses. It makes all the difference to know that they are observant of S.O.D.. I stand around before Services and survey the congregation looking for the Women and Girls that belong to Strictly Observing Families. I begin to realize that it is more than those two little buttons that set them apart. They are more modestly dressed than the nonobservant women and carry themselves more demurely with downcast eyes. But somehow they are also livelier, and yes, sexier. They seem to stand taller, and even stick their breasts out at you. They look you in the eye and you know that under that dress they have no undergarments on other than a shift and a garter belt. Perhaps they are flaunting that fact, and the probable existence of a set of bruised buttocks and a sore pussy. Then maybe I have changed. My Wife, Suzie, is certainly changed overnight. She is more vivacious. There are a whole bunch of women that flock to her this morning. Actually the ones she is attracting are Women, they are all Strict Observers.

My Girls are different. They are not the wild hellions they usually are. Especially the youngest, Sophie the ‘Brat’. I think that it is more than they got the ‘walloping of their life’ yesterday. They are wearing dresses for once. And they are aware that their Mother has changed. I will have to see how long this lasts. I have posted up in their room a Daily Diary for each of them. Each day they will be graded in conduct, chores and studies. On Saturday the scores will be toted up and Home Chastisements issued. We will see how much forward thinking and accountability can be programmed into this bunch of blond volcanoes.

As we are settling into our seats just prior to the start of services I contemplate what the aura about the Observant Women. It is sexual. Their modesty of dress cannot disguise that they are more sexual than the nonobservant women whose bodies are much more exposed to the everyday glance. The dresses disguise their bodies but in doing so set them apart. These Women are dedicated to satisfying their Husbands above and beyond what is usually expected. They Submit their bodies and they are Obedient. If they fall short, and generally they do, they Submit to Discipline. And their Discipline exposes their bodies during Chastisement. Maybe that’s why already they are looking at me differently. They know that someday soon they may have to expose the most private parts of their bodies to my gaze and to my implements of Chastisement. I think that they get a bit of a buzz out of that too. I know that just thinking about it givesS me a hard on.

I look around the room at the Women with the dual buttons on the backs of their dresses and I think of what lurks under those modest blouses and skirts, beneath those dresses. I wonder how many are wearing panties this morning. I know that suzie isn’t. The Observant Women are younger, more of them are pregnant. They tend to have more Daughters than sons. I think about the females, Wives and adolescent Daughters scheduled for Church Chastisements today and scan the congregation for them. Not too many great bodies in that bunch. Marsha Carpenter is thin as a switch and Carol Jefferson is fat as a hog. But Marsha’s 15 year old Daughter Ashley is blooming and Mary Stewart although short has a nice body. Those could be interesting to watch. And then there is Martha. Martha who thinks that yesterday I raped her. Well, technically I guess she is right but actually I was standing in the place of her Husband. Not that I didn’t really really, really, enjoy it. Right now Martha doesn’t realize that her Chastisement for the weekend didn’t end yesterday. That new pillory that Peter Stewart just finished is going to be dedicated today by serving for Martha Fisher’s Bondage. And I will wield the implement of Chastisement.

Sunday March 10th, 1996

After the Public Church Service

Well, now is the time to get down to work. Four to be Sternly Chastised by Martha. And Martha to be Sternly Chastised by me. I considered Mary Stewart, Mrs. Carpenter and her Daughter and Carol Jefferson as appetizers to be delivered before the main course. Mary was a disappointment. She was much closer in age to Suzie and was junior to my Wife. In high school I only remembered her as a snot nose whiney spoiled kid. I was hoping that she would show a little something while under Martha’s correction. She is still a whiney kid who screamed under minor discipline, peed and fainted. I suspect that she is going to become one of Martha’s ‘special projects’. Marsha’s Daughter Ashley shows promise. Already she has a better body than her Mother (which is not saying much) and she took the light discipline that Martha dished out well. I will keep my eye on her in the coming months. I found Marsha herself intriguing. Outside of Martha herself, I had never seen a Woman turned on by being beaten. Martha obviously read Marsha like a book. The first twelve strokes, delivered across the buttocks, were pure pleasure. The second twelve, delivered to the vulva, were pure pain. It will be fun to watch the relationship between these two develop. Carol is a boring cow. Beat her, she takes it. Beat her some more. She takes it. Unless she loses some weight, she is likely to be a chore. And all though out it all, Henry read aloud from the Bible, scriptural passages relating the woes and chastisements of this life.

While I was watching Martha beat the thundering herd of local talent, I was also studying the furniture upon which Martha would be Chastised. Peter Jefferson, a local carpenter, had constructed the pillory. Probably from general plans that the Pastor had given him. The pillory was basically a pair of posts affixed to a base. Between the posts were a set of crosspieces. Between these crosspieces were pinioned

the neck and wrists of the female being disciplined. This served to fasten her, bent over at a 90 degree angle with her head restrained in the forward position looking down and her bottom exposed to the rear. I could see how this apparatus offered a great deal more flexibility compared to the carpenter’s horse. In the case of this particular pillory the uprights were 4 x 4 lumber attached to pair of 2 x 4 feet. At the very bottom a 2 x 4 crosspiece connected the uprights. About three feet up, a second, fixed, cross piece further connected the uprights. Both crosspieces were fastened to the uprights with tennon and mortise joints. Into the upper edge of the middle, 2 x 6 crosspiece were cut three semicircular holes. One in the center was designed to accommodate the head. The two to either side would hold the wrists. Routed into the 4 x 4 uprights was a channel in which slid up and down, another 2 x 6 crosspiece. The lower edge of this crosspiece had three semicircular cuts which complete the holes that held the neck and wrists. This is your basic pillory. What made this pillory unique was that it was built for a midget. Normally a pillory traps its victim in a standing up position. This pillory held its victim in a bent over position, bent over at the waist. This would be hell on the lower back of the victim. I wondered why it had been built this way.

Soon enough, the switching of the preliminary entertainers was over and the main act was to begin. Henry sent Martha to the back to strip and urinate. It was obvious that the word had spread that Martha was to be the center attraction. Everybody knew but Martha. When she came back up to the front she was pale and shaken. Henry and I fastened her into the pillory and Henry went into the closet and got the triple switch. This implement greatly impressed the peasants. That and the thoroughly ‘prepared’ condition of Martha. Honestly her backside looked like hamburger. It was that bad. Her breasts were also beaten black and blue and had bite marks that were open sores. She was hardly a pretty site. When she was bent over and bound in the pillory, it was obvious that her pussy had suffered the worst punishment of all. It was extremely swollen and oozing blood. Frankly I thought that our minute audience of Jeffersons, Carpenters and Stewarts were appalled at the prospect of the upcoming performance. To say nothing of Martha.

Martha was now bound before me and I swished the long triple switch of crepe myrtle back and forth. This was truly a formidable weapon. I knew that given the bruised condition of Martha’s backside this could be a rather bloody undertaking. I looked at Henry and he nodded. I stood at the left side of Martha and I planted the first three strokes of the switch squarely across her ass cheeks. Three things were obvious from the start. She knew what was coming. She understood the consequences of what was about to happen. And three, she was not going to show that the brutal whipping she was about to endure was rending her psyche. Although her body jumped and twitched under the lash of the switch, she never uttered a word. After three I moved over to her right side and gave her another three strokes. After six hits, eighteen wands had sliced into her bruised backside. The switch had cut into the swollen tissues of her buttocks to an alarming degree. There were at least a dozen cuts in her backside, all of which were beginning to bleed. Frankly, I myself was appalled. I took a good look at her buttocks and noticed that there were shreds of tissue waving in the breeze by the sides of the cuts that the switches had made. Her ass was actually coming apart in front of my eyes. I felt deep remorse at inflicting such damage on what to me was always the most beautiful woman I had known. However, I looked over at Henry and he nodded, indicating to me that I should continue with Martha’s beating.

In the meantime, Marsha Carpenter and Carol Jefferson had gone ballistic. They were literally jumping up and down protesting at what I was doing to Martha’s bottom. Henry dealt with them by making them strip and kneel before the congregation, together with Mary who was just getting back on their feet. That made it obvious that if they didn’t behave they were next in line for the pillory. Their asses sent them the message that more strokes were not a good idea. They made a fascinating tit collection kneeling there. Tall Marsha with small tits and a bad sag problem, short perky Mary with a fine set of breasts, and finally bovine Carol with her industrial strength mammary glands. Some day we will have to line them up and put the switch to all of their tities. But now back to work

After about a five minute pause for Martha to take a breather and for me to wipe her blood off my switches, I administered the second set of six lashes with the triple birch. By this point I think that Martha was a little bit out of her head with the pain. Although she was still conscious and her body still reacted to each blow with a jerk, she didn’t even grunt when I hit her. After a total of twelve strokes I walk around to the front of the pillory. Although she was still conscious her eyes were glazed. She was clearly out of it and I was amazed that she had neither pissed nor shat. I took the leather pad from her mouth. She was no longer at risk of biting her mouth.

Eventually she began to recover. The first sign of life was when I began to swab her behind with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol. Her body tensed and she moaned. When I swabbed her labia, which had taken the tip of a stroke or two and were beginning to bleed, she started shouting at me. “You rotten bastard, I’ll get you for this” was about all I could decipher. A lot of thanks for my attempts to repair her battered posterior.

Sunday March 10th, 1996

Triple Treat: Up the Ass, Into the Cunt and In the Mouth

What happened next was under the direction of Henry. It was, after all, his Wife.

First, Henry started off by sodomizing his Wife. That’s an act that I have never gotten off on. However in these matters Henry is the boss. Then he moved up to Martha’s front end and made her give him head. Hey! I can get off on that and frequently have. After he vacated the rear, he indicated that I should fuck her cunt from the rear. Again, I can live with that.

A long time ago I realized that I was not the most sophisticated individual in matters sexual. It doesn’t bother me. That’s why I go with the flow. You would be amazed how far that has gotten me. It does not bother me if Henry says, “Fuck this bitch.” I will do it and not be amazed. I do not ponder matters theological. That is why I am a happy man. Besides, Martha was a good lay. This time I took her doggy style from the rear. She tried the same clench your pussy trick on me that she did the last time. It didn’t work any better this time than last. If it can be believed, my dick was even harder today than it was yesterday. This was undoubtedly due to me standing around for an hour watching four women disrobe and get their heinies blistered by Martha. I have to admit that I found Mary’s hysterics a particular turn on, particularly when they stripped her of her red dress after they took her off the horse. I was further aroused by the sight of Martha’s bruised and bitten tits when she undressed prior to being pilloried and beaten. My lust reached a peak as I scourged her ass. The site of drops of blood on her light pastel blue stockings was overwhelming. So I was hot to trot when Henry gave me the OK. I spread her pussy’s lips with my fingers and thrust in with a shout. Then I grabbed her tits and squeezed as hard as I could. Her scream was muffled because Henry’s dick was in her mouth. I had a horrible case of lover’s nuts having sustained an erection over the last hour and a half. I wouldn’t last long, particularly with the way she was clenching the muscles around her vagina. Thrust, thrust, thrust and then KABOOM! It weren’t fancy loving but I shot and shot and shot. Some day I will have to actually go to bed with this bitch and make love to her. It could be an interesting idea.

After I screwed Martha from behind, Henry was still fucking her face. Everything was going OK until she bit him. And I mean bit him hard enough that he bled all over. For the first time in the year that I have known him I saw Henry get mad. He turned red in the face and through clenched teeth he hissed, “Bitch, I warned you not to do that. I told you not to do that. You are going to really pay for this.” The look he had on his face certainly scared me. With his pecker clenched in his right hand, he went to the back of the Church and fumbled around the closet until he found a first aid kit. I went back and asked if I could help. He said nothing but continued to fumble because his hands were shaking so bad. Finally he said, “Could you give me a hand.” He was still purple in the face when I swabbed his dick with the rubbing alcohol but then he started to relax a little. The bite marks were deep and I suggested that he might need to get the wound sutured. “No” he said. So I put some triple antibiotic cream on the cuts, put a telfa pad on each side of his penis and secured them with some tape. “Pastor” I said, “you are going to be out of commission for some time.” “Don’t worry about it” he replied.

We walked up to the front of the Church and he slowly put his shorts and pants back on. All this time Martha had said nothing. Henry looked around and finally found the triple switch. It was a pity because Martha’s buttocks and thighs had finally stopped bleeding. He said to me, “I think it would be a good time for you to leave, Dominic”. He was in no shape to reason with or even argue with. It would make no sense to tell him that his Wife was in no shape for a further whipping. It would have done no good, Henry knew what he was going to do. As I closed the door Martha screamed for the first time. I think he hit right across the vulva with the switch. She screamed twice more by the time I got to my red pickup truck, which was parked a hundred yards away by their house. It was a high-pitched scream like a rabbit makes when you hit it in the hindquarters with a 22 long rifle round. I could still faintly hear her screaming when I got to the road.

The Christian Discipline Diaries

Suzzane Smithers

Sunday March 10th, 1996 – Before Church

Dom says that today, after Church, I must display the “Fruits of my First Chastisement”. I learned that this meant that I had to show my bruised behind to the Pastor and Martha. This morning I put on my new Church Dress. This was a beautiful yellow checked pattern print full sleeved, high necked frock with a full pleated skirt with flounces. I bought it yesterday with Martha and modified it with a pair of loops with buttonholes in the inside back just above the waist. It also has a pair of small white buttons on the outside back at the shoulders. This allows the skirts to be fastened up in the back Exposing my behind for inspection or Application of Implements of Discipline. (Dominic edits my diary to make sure I use the right terms). When ever I wear this dress I am not supposed to wear any underwear. As for a bra, I really don’t have that much need of one since my titties aren’t much more than A cup. When I look in the mirror, I notice that my nipples, which are a bit hard this morning, really poke the dress’ fabric. This is because the bodice of the dress fits so snugly. Actually, I think it looks sexy. I am a little bit bothered though, about not wearing panties. I have never done this before. But Dom says that this uneasiness is the point of it. He says it contributes to the Fear of the Lord.

We all got in the car, Dominic my Husband and the girls, Sophie, aged 8 and the twins Sarah and Samantha, aged 10. For once they are quiet as they sit in the back of the Crown Vic. It is a nice car. We usually get to drive a nice car because Dominic is the Service manager at the Ford Dealer. He brings them home to check them out. Usually the girls fuss and fidget and fight in the back. But last night they got the first big league spanking of their lives. This morning their bottoms are sore. The sore bottoms remind them to behave or else. Holiness Church is only about ten, fifteen minutes down the road from where we live. Martha, the Pastor’s wife is tall and beautiful and my best friend. Yesterday afternoon she helped me pick this dress out. She has really good taste. Both of us got Chastised yesterday. First Martha got it at her home and then we both got it at our home. When it was all over we were sent out to shop for some new dresses for me. After we dropped Martha off at home, Dominic had left his pickup truck at the Pastor’s house and yesterday evening we all drove home in the car, picking the girls up on the way.

We got to Church an hour early as we usually do. The girls and I helped Martha set up the chairs while Dominic talked with the Pastor. About half an hour before Services the only red head in our Church, Mary Stewart showed up. This was unusual because she is usually late coming to Services. I went up to her and said hello. She was wearing a real nice, well fitted red dress with long sleeves and A line skirts that came down to at least mid calf. And RED SHOES and RED STOCKINGS! But although she looked real good in the dress she also looked real nervous. I asked her “What’s the matter, just miss your period”. She replied, “Suz, you are always so flippant. You would laugh at the gates of Hell and ask Satan if he had the furnace fired up hot enough. But then you always look at the bright side of things. We’ll talk later but save me the place next to you during Service.” With that we went different ways helping to put out the hymnals. Although we don’t have an organ we sing up a storm with just a little cassette player to accompany us.

Martha, as usual looked beautiful. She was wearing a white, almost ankle length dress with a pattern of tiny blue flowers made out of a fabric that was light as air. It clung to her beautifully. A wide black patent-leather belt encircled her narrow waist. Just a bit of pastel blue stocking showed between the hem of the dress and her black high-heeled patent-leather shoes. And she certainly had the body to go with the dress and accessories. She was almost forty and childless. However she was still the envy of every woman at Holiness Church. Her dark brown hair was piled up on top of her head in a magnificent swirl tied with pastel blue ribbons. Only her husband Henry, my Husband Dominic and I knew about the horrible bruises she had all over her body from our Chastisement yesterday. She got it much worse than me. And believe me my bottom is pretty sore this morning. More sore than it was ever in my life. My pussy is also sore. This is because it took a few hard spanks with the belt yesterday. It lips were swollen when Dominic had sex with me at noon. And he is really big which means it really hurt when he went in. And he did it again late last night. I hope I am not oozing. In my no-panty condition I am afraid it will spot my slip and show on my dress.

As Church filled up I notice, for the first time how many women had that tell tale pair of buttons on the back of their dress or back. Almost half of the women and teenaged girls had them. I wondered if all of them were being Chastised like Martha and me. Funny, you never noticed those buttons until you had to sew them on for yourself. Martha’s beautiful new white dress had them. And when Mary sat down, in the seat I had saved for her to my left, just before Service started, I noticed that she had a pair of buttons on her back of her red dress too. She whispered in my ear “suz, when did you start wearing buttons”. I whispered back “yesterday”. Mary whispered back, “three months for me, but I’m not real good at it”. Ten year old Sarah, sitting just to my right went “Shhh!, be quiet Pastor is getting ready to start Service”. She and Samantha had Sophie the Brat sandwiched in between them with Dominic and I keeping order from the ends. Mary’s children were below five years old so they nestled in the ‘crèche’ for the little kids in the Pastor’s house rather than having to come to Church. Despite having had two kids recently, Mary had kept her shape terrifically. Her breasts had filled out but weren’t saggy but her waist remained slim. And unlike me, each pregnancy hadn’t put five pounds on her hips. Some people had all the luck. I was not all that close to Mary when we were in high school cause she was so prissy and I was so wild. But lately I have come to like her more.

Sunday March 10th, 1996 – During the Homily and After

After about 20 minutes of singing, Pastor Henry started piling into his sermon. Here comes a hour and a half of hellfire and smoking sulfur. The kids mercifully decided to semi-nod off rather than fidget and therefore I did not poke Sara. About ten minutes into the sermon Mary slipped me a folded letter from her purse. I opened it up and started to read. I just about dropped the piece of paper on the floor. At the top was: NOTICE OF STERN CHASTISEMENT AT HOLINESS STRICT OBSERVANCE EVANGELICAL CHURCH. Dear Mrs. Stewart it began and Martha had signed it as Church Disciplinarian. I read the front and back unobtrusively and slipped it back to her. I was flabbergasted. Mary was to strip, to be tied up and to be beaten with switches. I gulped as I recalled the time my mom had given me a buck-naked switch whipping. At least I was able to run around trying to escape her until she really got me in a hold. Some of those switch wounds bled. No wonder she was so nervous. We looked at each other and she blushed. As I looked toward Martha I viewed her in a very, very different light. Before yesterday she was only my friend. Yesterday she was someone who was getting punished just like me. Today, I realize that she might someday be the one giving me a whipping with a switch.

After Service was over Mary and I walked to the back of the Church to help in putting things away. I quietly said to her, “what the Hell is going on”. Mary simultaneously said “Peter gave me that notice yesterday. Looks like I got some licks coming pretty soon.” I set my girls and Mary’s kids to work helping Martha who always liked to have a mob of willing hands to boss around. Mary and I started putting the folding wooden chairs back into their storage closet at the back of the Church. “Mary” I asked “what is this about Stern Church Chastisement. I have heard Dominic and the Pastor talking about Chastisements but I haven’t gotten any sense about it”. Mary replied, “Don’t try and figure it out. They will explain it all to you eventually. Just tell me, have you ever been whipped with a switch?” Truthfully I said “yeah, my mom used to use a switch on me just before I ran off with Dominic”. Then I lied “Oh, it’s not so bad”. I didn’t want to tell her about the cuts that bled and took a couple of weeks to heal. And the angry random flailing of my mother was unlikely to match the cold precise strokes that I could see Martha applying. I was my turn to interrogate Mary “What’s this about Bondage?” She replied “I don’t know exactly. Apparently they tie you down when they beat you. I know Peter has been spending a lot of Saturdays down here at Church with your husband and John and the Pastor. You know Peter is a pretty darn good carpenter”. I knew what being tied down for punishment was like. I told her “being tied down makes it a lot worse”. Mary actually started shaking and sort of croaked out “I’m scared”.

Right then Pastor Henry came up to the two of us. “Well ladies”, he smilingly piped up, “it is nice to see the two of you working so well together. I’m glad you are both staying after service with us. Marsha’s 13 year old girl will be taking care of your kids over at my house. They are a bit young, you know.” “Young for what” I wondered to my self. My glance over at Mary was not reassuring. At this point almost everybody had left the Church except Mary, myself, Martha, Marsha and her 15 year old Daughter. I always keep forgetting her name because it’s her younger sister Anne that baby sits. OK, its Ashley. Also there was Carol, a chubby younger woman who I didn’t know well. At this point the men were outside and were beginning to close the slatted wooden shutters that covered and protected the windows during those times when we weren’t actually having services. The Church got quite a bit darker as the illumination decreased to only the six big incandescent bulbs that dangled in a row down the center of the Church. It was quite a change from the glaring brightness of a sunny Piney Woods morning in March. But ones eyes quickly adapted and I realized that there was really plenty of light in Church.

Carol, Marsha and Ashley, having finished their tasks came over and helped Mary and I finish up with the chairs. Martha told us to leave about half a dozen out. The lectern was also left out. Marsha Carpenter was thin, in her late thirties and a bit bitchy to most people. Her girls were about 3 to four years older than my girls and Anne frequently baby sat for me. We all got along well together. But then I seem to get along pretty well with everybody. “What are you here for suzy” Marsha enquired. She was severely dressed in a long-calf-length, black cotton skirt that buttoned down the center. The dark blue cotton hose she had on certainly didn’t improve her image. However she was wearing a really pretty white blouse with ruffles down the center and a big white bow adorning her collar. I couldn’t tell if she was wearing a bra or not because was blouse was so loose. Besides her titties are even smaller than mine and I bet they really sag when she is not supporting them with a bra. Ashley was dressed similarly to her mother although not quite as severely. Her blouse was certainly tighter. Over the last year it was becoming obvious that she didn’t inherit her mother’s skimpy breasts. I quietly said to Marsha “I got really walloped by my husband yesterday and today I have to show the bruises to Pastor Henry and Martha”. “Well” Marsha said “looks like you are getting off easy. I’m here for my fourth ‘Sternie’. And I suppose that I will be getting a double dose. One set for my ‘transgressions’ and another for the sins of my eldest Daughter the ‘slut’”. She shook her blond head in the direction of the blooming fifteen-year-old Ashley to her right. “Well” Marsha continued “lucky for you. I will be lucky if my heinie is not bleeding by the time we drive home tonight. That’s why I always wear the darkest skirt I can for a sternie. If you’re bleeding a lot it doesn’t show.” Mary’s shaking got worse when she heard the word ‘bleeding’.

“Well what are you here for dearie” Marsha said to Mary, “you seem scared shitless”. “I, I, I’ve never gotten a St, St, Str, Str, Stern Chastisement before” stuttered Mary. “Well it could be a lot worse, you could be getting Severe Chastisement” said Marsha “I hear that they really peel the skin off you in a Severie. Not that we’ve ever had one here. Well, I hear they only give you a Severie once a year. I wonder if her blue majesty over there has ever had a Severie?” Marsha pointed her head over in the direction of Martha who was fiddling with something in the front of the Church. Marsha’s monologue was hardly reassuring to Mary. “Well what are you here for fatso?” continued Marsha turning to Carol. The bleached blonde, heavyset young woman was obviously offended by Marsha. “Well, I’m not going to the well!” Carol said mocking Marsha. “My husband and Pastor Henry decided a month ago that the prospect of Church Chastisement would encourage me lose weight. So every Saturday afternoon is weigh-in time at the Pastor’s house. If I haven’t lost at least one pound that week, then its Stern Chastisement in Church the next day. Guess who the scale decided to be shitty to yesterday. I had actually gained a pound. So it looks like my behind will get fed a score or two dozen for lunch today.” Looking at Carol’s rear end, it certainly was big enough to absorb a considerable amount of punishment. Carol was wearing a white dress with three circumferential rows of flounching ruffles on the skirts. But that did not conceal that she had a butt that put mine to shame. Similarly, the tight fitting bodice of her dress left no doubt that a very substantial bra must be supporting breasts that must have required at least DD cups. She must have been a 44’ or maybe even a 46’. It would be interesting to she how she behaved under Chastisement.

Stern Chastisement in Church

“OK Ladies” Martha proclaimed in a ringing voice. “Time to come to the front of the Church and get things started. I will tolerate no dawdling.” The paneling at the front of the Church was opened. I had never realized that there was a closet up there. I guess that this was where they stored the podium. Martha had already taken out a folding card table. “Marsha, set up the table” Martha commanded followed by “put your cards on the table”. By this she must have meant the eight and a half by eleven sheets printed on card stock like the one that Mary had shown me earlier. At this point Pastor Henry came in, accompanied by my Husband, Dominic, Marsha’s Husband Peter, and Carol’s Husband whom I didn’t know. Pastor Henry was carrying a manila folder into which he placed the cards that he picked up from the table. Then he put the folder on the lectern.

The other men began to move two pieces of furniture out of the closet at the front of the Church. When she saw what the men were moving, Mary’s knees buckled and I had to lend her an elbow to keep her up. First they brought out what looked to be a somewhat tall carpenter’s horse, maybe 36” high. But this was more sturdily constructed than any sawhorse I had ever seen. And varnished till it shined. The four legs were constructed out of four by fours and were attached to a rectangular base plate of two by sixes, flat to the polished wood floor. Attached at several places on each leg were belts that looked like sturdy leather dog collars. I was beginning to understand. Even scarier was what came out next. I remember as a child reading in school about the Pilgrims back in seventeenth century in New England. There was a picture in the History book that showed a Pillory. There in the front of the Church they set up a Pillory. Woagh! Lastly Martha started laying out switches on the card table. That was what she had been picking under the live oak tree yesterday evening. The switches were mostly cut from live oak shoots but there was one wicked one that looked like hackberry and a long one that looked like crepe myrtle. Wehw! As a girl I had been whupped with hackberry and knew how resilient and flexible they were. Hackberry never seemed to break. Most of the switches were about 36” long and had the thin bark and buds stripped off the last 18” or so. Others were shorter. The hackberry were about 18 to 24” long that still had the bark on and were tied into bundles of five to six. I hoped that Marsha was right in her hunch that I wasn’t scheduled to receive Stern Chastisement today. This stuff looked serious. Each switch or bundle had a tag attached to it by string and I could just make out family names written on the paper tags. Finally, Martha brought out the wickedest looking Implement of all. It was a piece of fishing rod. The very thin, final 28 or 30” of one. It had the metal ferules taken off but the black string wrappings were still on. It had a handle attached. I didn’t have to be told what that was for. My imagination was all too good. That and the bottle of rubbing alcohol and cotton balls that Dominic was setting out on the Table. Mary was now shaking so bad that only my arm was keeping her up.

After the “furniture” had been set up, Martha cleared her throat and announced. “Ladies and girls to the back of the Church and prepared yourselves. Half-slips are to be removed. Carol, remove your dress. Marsha, you and your Daughter are to remove your skirts. Mary, it is only necessary to button up the back of your dress. suzie, the same with you. Then everybody pass your water.” As we disrobed or hitched up our skirts, the men placed the half a dozen of the folding wooden chairs in the middle of the Church and sat down. I gathered up the back skirts of Mary’s red dress and used the inside loops to fasten them up to the buttons. Mary’s hands were shaking so badly that she fumbled with the back of my yellow dress for quite some time. Marsha and Ashley took off their skirts and half-slips and hung them on hooks at the back of the Church. Then Marsha did up Ashley’s blouse in the back and Ashley did the same for her mom. Carol morosely unzipped the back of her dress, slipped it off her shoulders, let it fall to the floor in a heap and stepped out of it. She removed a remarkably long and full petticoat, hung it up and then added the white dress to the hook.

None of us had made the mistake of wearing panties. Carol had on an industrial strength bra. Outside of her shoes and white stockings, this was all she was now wearing. Praise the Lord for that bra because otherwise I swear her nipples would have probably hung down around her knees. Carol was fat enough around the waist that I could barely see the remains of her blond bush. When Ashley’s blouse was done up, it became obvious that she was wearing a very nice, satin bra which enclosed beautiful breasts. On the other hand her Mother’s braless breasts thinly sagged down in front. The front of Marsha’s blouse had opened a quite bit from the gathering in the back and her nipples were just peaking out below. It was not very flattering to her. She probably would have looked better without a blouse at all.

Carol was the quickest to strip. I was beginning to suspect that her Husband ran a tight household. She went right over to an ottoman-sized box in the back of the Church, lifted the lid, and soon a tinkling was heard. Of course. No chances with ’accidents’. Ashley went over next and took some time to get going. She turned a bright red, probably with shame at having to urinate in front of all these people. Then finally, you could hear the pissing. Marsha made a quick job of it. It was obviously not the first time for her. Mary was still having trouble fastening up the back of my dress. Marsha came over, pointed Mary toward the piss pot and finished the job. “Sorry, this is the first time for me” Mary whispered as she sat on the commode but was unable to empty her bladder. This whisper elicited a number of bellowed commands from Martha up in front.

“Silence! If I hear any more chattering it will results in an increased level of Chastisement. Everybody up front, right now. No more dawdling”. She was swishing the fiberglass rod back and forth menacingly. “Kneel down starting here, in the following order. suzie, first. Here!” Martha pointed with the rod which made me nervous. I knelt facing the wall of the Church. “You are only here for Exposure and Inspection so we will deal with you first. Mary, this is your first Stern Chastisement so we will deal with next. Kneel here. Ashley, this is also your first so kneel to the right of Mary. OK pain slut, you’re next.” Martha must have been referring to Marsha since Marsha immediately knelt just to the right of her Daughter. “Fatso you’re last.” Carol was the last of us in line. Then everything became deathly silent. I didn’t even breath a sigh of relief at being spared Stern Chastisement because I was so scared. Mary’s trembling was very noticeable. My bladder was full and hurting but I guess since I if am being spared the rod, I can get by without tinkling.

Inspections

Pastor Henry came up to the front and placed the manila folder down on the lectern. “Let us open this session of Church Chastisements with a prayer” he began. After opening his Bible and mumbling about for what seemed like half an eternity, he summoned me to the front and instructed me to face the front of the Church. Then it was ‘bend over, hold your ankles, and spread your legs’. There I was with my head between my knees looking out at the group. I kept getting progressively redder in the face from the strained position while my Pastor inspected the bruises on my buttocks, thighs and private parts. Then he called Martha over and she inspected me while Pastor went back to the lectern and mumbled into the Bible some more. Then he called my Husband over and he inspected. Then they called over Peter, John and Carol’s Husbands and they all inspected. And Pastor mumbled into his Bible some more All the while I kept getting more and more congested and red faced and my bladder was really killing me. I tried to distract myself my inspecting the behinds of the other women who were kneeling over by the wall. I particularly needed distraction when someone would poke and pinch at my puss to see how swollen it really was (yes it really is that swollen).

Amazingly, for all her tremblings and anticipations, Mary’s behind was almost devoid of marks. Peter either has a very light hand or else she doesn’t bruise easily. Marsha’s small buttocks and thin thighs, on the other hand, demonstrated that someone had earlier done due diligence with a belt. The ripe, red bruises testified that she must have taken at least a dozen, and more likely two dozen strokes. And her well-corrugated pussy had swollen labia undoubtedly due to more than a few probably well aimed belt blows. John Carpenter rose in my estimation. All of this stood out because of the contrast with the really ugly dark blue cotton elastic support stockings she was wearing. Ashley Carpenter’s butt was just that bit fuller than her Mother’s. Enough to make it likely to please men. But her Father had obviously focused most of his attention on his wife’s rear because there were no more than five minor bruises on her buttocks and none on her thighs. Being a maiden and having a fuller butt than her mom, you couldn’t see the condition of her pussy when she was kneeling upright. However I doubt that John had treated his Daughter’s perineum to much Chastisement.

Carol was the one with the really spectacular marks. It looks like she must have been beaten some time ago with the rod. There had to be at least a half a dozen one-inch-wide streaks across both cheeks of her ample butt. She must have been punished about two weeks ago because the splotchy bruises had time to mature and show yellow and green colors in addition to blue. On top of the marks from her older ass whipping were the signs of a much more recent discipline. From her waist down to the top of her white stockings and as far as I could see from side to side, her skin was bright red. It hadn’t had the chance to really bruise yet. Furthermore it was too uniform to have come from a whipping with a belt. This had to be the work of a wide heavy strap. Just like the strap that Pastor gave to Dominic for my Home Chastisements. I’ll bet that Carol got hers really early this morning. Maybe right at dawn before she got dressed for Church. It must just be starting to get real tender right now. Oh I’ll bet it is really going to hurt when that inflamed butt gets stroked with a really thin Implement like a switch or the rod.

The Parting

Well finally the inspection is over. I guess that they have gazed sufficiently long at my rear and poked and prodded my pussy enough. I have to admit that if they had pinched my labia one more time I would have peed. Finally, I am allowed to stand up and boy do I get dizzy. I almost pass out from all the blood rushing out of my head. But OH the pressure is off my bladder. I wonder if I will get to stay and watch the others take their Chastisements.

Pastor congratulates Dominic on doing an absolutely first class job on my Home Chastisements. He really means that my ass, thighs and pussy are spectacular. Henry continues “Mr. Smithers, for some time the Holiness Church has gotten by with only a single Disciplinarian. This has meant that my Submissive and Obedient Wife Martha has had to mete out all Church Chastisements. Since it is difficult for her to Chastise herself, I have had to administer her Chastisements. This is of course, less than optimal. Dominic, you have carried out all of my instructions to the absolute letter. Therefore, I am Commissioning you as our second Church Disciplinarian. In particular I am committing into your hands the Chastisement of my Wife Martha.” I took it to mean that Dom had done as spectacular a job on the ass, thighs and pussy of Martha as he had done on me. But nobody except Henry, Dom and I had seen Martha’s bare behind so how could they know.

“Furthermore,” Henry droned on, “our Brother Peter Stewart has just finished his most recent Service to our Lord as a carpenter. He has constructed this magnificent Pillory to which will be Bound those undergoing the most stringent Chastisement that we perform in this Church. Dominic, today, you will carry out the first Chastisement to use this Furniture of the Lord. As always, the first to feel any new Chastisement will be my Wife Martha for her job is to set the example in all things to our women.” Oh yeah, I thought. Example like in child-bearing ruining her figure? Henry went on and on. “This will be the final part of our program this afternoon. Now, suzie, you are dismissed from these proceedings.” That got my attention. I noticed that Martha was looking much paler than usual. I think that she just realized that yesterday’s activities were not to be the end of things for the weekend. It now looks like Martha will not only be the wielder of Implements today but will also have instruments wielded on her.

After a moment to think, Martha looked at me and proclaimed, “Unloose the skirts of your dress and let them drop, put on your undergarments and depart.” She then added more quietly, “I would appreciate it if you would drop by the Parsonage and make sure the kids don’t do too much damage”. I could imagine what five kids could do with only Anne to ride herd on them. I tried to undo the buttoned loops holding up the back skirts of my dress but was unable to reach them easily. So I went over to Marsha and turned around. She figured out what was needed and undid the buttons. I then figured out that what Martha was referring to as undergarments was my half-slip (none of us were wearing panties that morning). I stepped into and pulled up my petticoat under my dress. As I was doing this Mary was called up to the front of the Church.

One part of me really wanted to stay and see what happened. How would Mary hold up to punishment? I had my doubts as to how much control she could muster. I wondered what was going through Ashley’s head and what she did to warrant what was clearly awful punishment. Carol and Marsha were clearly pro’s at this. But Boy! there was another part of me that was happier to get out of there than I had ever been in my life. As I opened the door, Mary was having her hands lashed together and was being bent over the end of the ‘horse’ by Martha. I closed the door and ran over to Henry and Martha’s house to see how all the kids were doing.

The Christian Discipline Diaries

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