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Subject: {ASSM} Route 30 Road Trip (Mf spank humil cons nosex) An Elder Gods Story
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Date: Wed, 18 Dec 2013 07:10:02 -0500
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Route 30 Road Trip (Mf spank humil cons nosex)
 
 o
<|>
/ \
\o/
 |            ife as a celebrity preacher has its ups and downs. The
/ \           downs are the need to be on the road a lot and putting
\o/           up with stupid questions from journalists who don't
 |            "get" religion. The ups are just about everything else.
/ \ _\o__/_
              I have been a world champion motorcycle racer. Once the
reflexes slowed down, I retired and took a job as racing editor for a
biker magazine. I work remotely from a web account, so most of my time
is my own, as long as I meet my deadlines. I only go to the offices in
Los Angeles a few times a year.

  One of my jobs for the rag is testing new bike models. One day I
decided to use my test riding time to go from my home in Pittsburgh to
the Stormgod's shrine in Ohio. I wasn't a worshiper at the time, I
grew up an evangelical Methodist and didn't convert when the God
started making personal appearances here on Middle Earth. In fact, I
was non-practicing at the time, thus I took no interest in religion.
My trip to the shrine was to be a tourist visit, it was said to be
impressive. Plus, I'd met and partied with Thundermouth at biking
events. He went to them as both a biker and to evangelize.

  The 'Mouth wasn't there that day. I did meet the Chief Priest, Jack,
who would shortly become my father-in-law.

  The place was impressive indeed. The show started on the approach,
at least if you were coming from the East. It sits on top of a slight
hill in an otherwise flat terrain. The hill is an old Indian mound.
The stone oval atop it is a stark contrast to the fields, farmhouses,
and barns that surround it. It looks like a whale's jaw dropped on the
hilltop. It sits right on the outside of a curve in the road, so it's
in front of you for the whole approach. The stones are enclosed in a
series of ditches with a ramp on the West end. Each is a slab of
undressed stone set so the tops are a uniform 5 feet high. The twelve
foot high needle of rock that the God planted is at the East end. It
has a hole about six feet up into which people put prayers. The rest
of the complex was built by Thundermouth and other worshipers. Beside
the shrine is a barn-like hall used for indoor events, kind of a
fellowship hall. The spire drew me to it.  Jack, the day to day priest,
greeted me and was giving me the tour patter as I walked to the spire.
Suddenly I was struck by lightning!

  "Oh dear! I'm afraid the God has called you," said Jack. "Won't do
to try and resist, He doesn't take 'No' for an answer. You'll just
make it harder on yourself until you give in."

  From that day forward I was an occasional evangelist and speaker for
the religion. What else could I do?

                        o        <o>        o/
                       <|>      __|__      <|
                       < >                 /| 

  One March day I received a call from Thundermouth. "I want you to
organize and lead a road trip on the Lincoln Highway," he said. We run
motorcycle road trips every summer. We have Asatru motorcycle clubs
across the nation and in Canada. Riders join and leave as their
time allows. The 'Mouth leads some, and so does Jack, but the bulk of
them fall to me. "Run it from just west of Philly to as far west as
you can. You know the drill by now. I'll join when I can, but it's
your show."

  We only have two more years before the Gods decide whether mankind
gets to struggle along on the path to righteousness or disappears as
if we'd never been.

  I can do this sort of thing because I can do my day job from
anywhere I have Internet access. The whole circus includes a truck
carrying luggage, another with parts and tools to keep the bikes on the
road, a bus for non-riding dependants, and as many bikes--just bikers
as well as Asatru bikers--as we can get to ride along. We stop at
friendly locations to put on a day event with information and family
games. Needless to say, it takes a while to get far.

  We were in a little rural market town in western Indiana on a warm
day in late June. It was a typical stop at an iconic old diner. A
heathen electric folk band was on stage. I'd already spoken and was
now giving ax throwing lessons. Ax throwing was something the 'Mouth
had started doing to entertain folks. Jack did it too, so every guy who
took a role in events pretty much had to learn it now. People had come
to expect it, and I am pretty good at it. A group of girls was watching
me show a boy how to throw.  They were teenie-boppers, and as giggly as
you'd expect. Every last one wore a t-shirt saying they liked being
spanked. We do a spanking and forgiveness ritual. Some girls come
expecting to participate in one, but it didn't pay to take for granted
that every girl in a spanking shirt wanted to do that. The main reason
girls wear them is a child actress in a popular sit-com wears them.
Most of the girls would freak out if you made to bend them over your
knee.

  I finished with the boy, he hadn't done too badly for a beginner.
He rejoined the girls, who made a fuss over him. Most of the cavalcade
wandered off together, but one girl stayed. She stood looking at me,
not saying anything. Her pink, sleeveless, top proudly proclaimed,
"I [heart icon] A GOOD SPANKING!". She didn't look like she loved
anything right now. She looked very, very, very nervous.

  "Would you like to try a throw? I'm afraid you don't look like you
have the upper body strength to make it to the target, but you might
get lucky. The trick is to let the weight of the tool do most of the
work."

  "Um,...could we talk? Someplace like, um,...private?" she asked.

  "Are you just looking for advice, or are you looking for
Forgiveness?"

  "I've ah, done something I shouldn't have. I don't want anyone to
know!  Can't we go somewhere alone?"

  The poor kid looked to be thirteen or fourteen. Still I had to be
firm. "If you're looking for the Forgiveness Ritual, we always do that
in public. The whole idea is that you confess in public, and you're
punished and forgiven in public. Whatever you did can't come back to
haunt you. Everyone already knows the whole story."

  "But...but...my friends are here. My parents are here! I can't let
them see!"

  "I can give advice in private. Forgiveness Rituals are always public.
Take it or leave it. If you put it off, it will still be public when
you do it later."

  She shifted her weight back and forth between her feet several
times. "I have to do this. I need to, I need to!" She scrunched her
face up and wrung her hands together. "Ok! I'll do it in public."

  I nodded and lead her to the spanking chair. I didn't think a kid
her age could need the major Purification Ritual.  We can't do that on
the road. It takes too much time and equipment.

  "We need your parents here. I need them to sign a permission form."

  "But, but, they'll hear what I say. They'll see me!"

  "You're a minor. No permission, no ritual." I smiled at the coming
pun. "We have to cover our butts."

  The girl looked around. There was a crowd gathered already. Another
one of our trained men was finishing with a man and the crowd was
watching. The poor girl blushed at the sight of his nude midsection.
She didn't need to look for her parents. They were in the crowd.

  When I'd explained the need for a signature, her mother said. "What
did you do? Why are you doing this?"

  "You'll find that out in a minute," I said. "Remember, once we do
this ritual, she's forgiven. The Gods say so, that ought to be good
enough for parents."

  "What the hell do you know about raising kids?" said her father.

  "My wife is expecting our third. I married her when she was a teen.
I have some idea. I sure know about little kids though!"

  "How bad will this be?" asked her mother.

  "I haven't heard her confession yet. We don't do major floggings
here. Nothing but hand spankings for minor transgressions."

  They signed. I motioned them back to the crowd. The poor girl looked
like she was going to chicken out. The chair was free, so I sat down.
The girl stared at me and wriggled about. Her face looked like a cat
in the headlights, about to be run over.

  She finally worked up her courage and spoke. "I let a boy touch me.
Under my clothes." She was looking at her feet and blushing.

  "Look at me as you speak," I said.

  She looked up. It took her a moment to speak again. "I let him
touch...you know...um," She was looking at her toes again.

  "Look me in the eyes!" I said. "I'm a stand-in for the Gods. Say
what you've done, take your licks, and it's over. Nothing you've done
hasn't happened millions of times over thousands of generations."

  She flinched at my tone. Too bad. No one said this was supposed to
be easy.

  "I let him touch my um...tits. And my panties, but I stopped him
from putting his hand inside and ran away. And I called Cathy Watkins
a slut for doing the same thing, according to rumor. Can I really be
forgiven?"

  "The Gods made mankind. They've seen everything that can be done
wrong before. Yes, you can be forgiven. Is there anything else?"

  She thought for a moment, then shook her head.

  "Lift your skirt and drop the underwear!" I said.

  She looked at the crowd, and especially her parents, in a panic.

  "Don't look at them. Face me! Everyone has a butt, and I dare say
most of them need spanked. Bare it!" I barked.

  She didn't move. She was staring at my knees. Her face was the only
part of her that was animated. It ran the full gimlet of fear and
nervous expressions. The rest of her might have been carved from
stone.

  "Do you want to give up and do this all again, another time? It
won't get easier."

  "They'll see." she squeaked so quietly I barely heard. "The kids
from school...they'll tease me. They'll all see."

  "Most of them ought to be in line behind you. Look them boldly in
the eye and tell them that you are forgiven. On the authority of
Thunder. Of Woden. Of Frigga and the rest. You can't be more forgiven
than that, and your tormentors are due just punishment for doubting,
if for nothing else. Drop them, or leave. We're wasting time!"

  It still took her another minute. Then, she yanked her underwear
down and held her skirt high. She starred at me defiantly. I let her
stew for about forty-five seconds. Her defiance wilted after about
ten.

  "Over my knee. You have a solid three minutes coming."

  She took the first dozen in silence. For the next ten seconds, or
so, she chewed her lips and stifled her cries. She could hold back no
longer. "Ouw! Ouw, ouw, ouw!" She cried. I relented for a few seconds.

  "Will you be firmer in resisting the boys from here on out?"


  "I will, I will!"

  "For how long?"

  "Until I agree to marry one!"

  I smacked her another dozen times. "How long?"

  "Until I'm married! Until I'm married!"

  "If they insist?" I smacked her some more.

  "I'll say no! I'll say no until we're married."

  "What if you're attracted to him? What if you want him to touch
you?"

  She said nothing, so I smacked her again.  "I'll wait! I'll say we
wait 'til we're married!"

  "And if he won't wait? If he doesn't propose?"

  "Then I guess he's not worth marrying? Not worth letting him touch
me?"

  "Correct. Let's finish this." I gave her about two dozen more.
"Stand up."

  She reached for her underwear, then looked to me for guidance. "Go
ahead, cover yourself."

  I let her stand for about half a minute. Tears ran down her face and
you could see that she was trying not to cry aloud. Still, she looked
me right in the eye. "Come close," I said. She flinched, then mastered
herself and step toward me. I caressed her shoulders for a second,
then cupped her cheeks. "On the authority of the Gods, thou art forgiven
for thy trespasses. Thou hast no reason for shame. Thou wilt not let
anyone accuse thee further. Thou art forgiven! So let it be, so let
the world know!"

  She smiled at me through her tear stained face.  "So let it be! Am I
really forgiven?"

  "Yes, do not doubt it."

  Her parents had come close, so I said to them, "This matter is
closed. Guide her well, but this is over."

  They took her hands and started to walk away. "How could you?" said
her mother.

  "The matter is closed!" I barked.

  Her father nodded at me and they left.

  There was a short line waiting for me. The girl at the head wore a
top blazoned "Born to be Spanked". I had no doubt it was true.

                                ._
                              .D/o>=.-.
                              (@)Bh=(@)=

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