This short story is an entry in the 2001 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Adult
The Ghost of Father O'Brian
By
Valerie Meilong <VMeilong1@excite.com>
Mary Molly Murphy had only been spanked once. At fourteen. A proper spanking too. By her father. Skirt up, knickers down. And thoroughly. But the effect was not as intended. She loved the tingly glow that followed the smarting. She fantasised each night for years afterwards. She wanted more.
She never got it. Her mother rebuked her husband for spanking Mary that way. Made him promise never to do it again. From then on, all she got for being naughty was a scolding. She was often deliberately naughty. Nothing more than a scolding. She tried being naughty at school. Spanked? No way. Perhaps the German teacher might do it - he was always threatening. Nothing happened.
She left school, and became a secretary. She tried typing badly to tempt her boss into spanking her. No dice. Then she tried going to church and confessing to the most dreadful cardinal sins, hoping to tempt the young curate. No spanking. Just umpteen Hail Marys.
"You'd better watch out," said Carla Calloti, in whom she confided. They've got a punishment annexe next to the vestry. Father O'Brian used to whip wicked girls there, hundreds of years ago. He h.a.u.n.t.s. it.
Mary was intrigued. Possibilities? Maybe. She increased the wickedness of her false confessions. Still no reaction. One night, she whispered, "Oh, I am so wicked, father. Should I be sent to the vestry annexe?"
He laughed. "That place? Hasn't been used for years. Besides, its haunted." But she kept on exaggerating her sins, and kept referring to that annexe. One night, exasperated, he said, "Mary Murphy, you're wicked. I shall send you to that haunted room That'll teach you."
"Yes, father," she breathed. "I deserve that."
A week later, after she'd confessed to some really whopping sins, he said "For your penance, say twenty-five Hail Marys at the altar. Then go to through the vestry to the small door at the far side. Stay there for an hour." She could hardly contain herself for excitement.
She said the Hail Marys, then crept through the small door. The room was cold, damp, and dark.
Her vision cleared, and she saw a hooded figure. "My God!" she thought. "It's the ghost." The figure silently led her to a wooden contraption, like a pew. She was made to kneel, and her wrists were pulled forward and clamped. The ghost lifted her skirts, and pulled down her knickers. "Hey! Stop it," she yelled. The figure said nothing but picked up a birch.
After twenty strokes, Mary was hoarse with screaming. The figure released her, and she stood up, rubbing her smarting bottom. The ghost coughed. What! She recognised that cough. She rushed forward and grabbed the monk's habit. The hooded gown fell free. It was the young curate. Naked, and with the biggest erection too. "You bastard," she gasped. "You filthy bugger." She rushed out of the church, went to bed, partly horrified, mostly excited. Three days later she saw the headlines:
CURATE FOUND HANGED IN VESTRY ANNEXE.
The End
© Copyright Summer, 2001
***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** This story is for entertainment purposes only, and it does not necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author. All characters are fictional and any resemblance to any real person alive or dead is purely coincidental. The Copyright of this story is held by ESP Publishing Ltd., Beijing, China. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via an electronic medium such as the Internet is permitted as long as the text is not modified, and the name of the author and this copyright notice is clearly included. Any other form of publication is expressly forbidden unless authorized in writing by ESP Publishing Ltd.
Reviews
Kent Stoneking <kentls001(at)worldnet(dot)att(dot)net>
Interesting ... woman pushes for something all her life, finally gets it, and finds out it wasn't what she was expecting ... or was it? This is one I wouldn't mind seeing rewritten and expanded outside of the 500-word limit.
Michele <mcasson(at)telus(dot)com>
What I like best about this story is the way Valerie creates a character determined to get spanked, one way or another. Many readers will connect with Mary's determination and desires.
The story would have benefitted from paragraphing. In particular, the final sentence would be strengthened and made more powerful were it isolated from the rest of the text.