Story Fragment: Spanking on the Day of Judgement

I am now a lady into early old age, but in the 1950s and 
60s I was a lusty, nubile schoolgirl. In those days 
corporal punishment was common throughout the English 
educational system.

At my all girls Catholic grammar school, which I attended 
between the ages of 11 and 19, disciplinary slipperings 
were numerous; the cane was seldom used, but a gym pump 
was routinely applied to the rumps of naughty 
schoolgirls, and it used to sting like hell. It was 
inflicted at the end of PT (Physical Training) lessons 
across thin, tightly stretched gym knickers. The slaps 
(usually between six and twelve) came very sharp, and re-
echoed around the rafters. The Dean of Discipline who 
dished them out was a kinky old lesbian nun. With that 
large floppy plimsoll in her hand she was a fiend, and 
she punished our schoolgirl peccadilloes with joyful 
ferocity. I myself took it regularly, culminating, just 
before my nineteenth birthday, in 12 stinging, bum-
sizzling belters for smoking in the lavatories.

All of us girls used to hate taking these spankings. But 
nearly everyone, including myself, thought it was sexy 
and funny when someone else was on the receiving end, 
especially if she was a well-developed, meaty, nubile 
sixth-former. News of the spanking of every girl aged 16+ 
was rapidly disseminated throughout the school, and the 
victims were mercilessly teased. Their red rumps would be 
pointed at and giggled over by their classmates in the 
communal showers; they would be offered cushions to sit 
on for weeks afterwards, and so on. Most embarrassingly 
for the victims, the younger girls discussed the 
spankings inflicted upon their seniors with gleeful 
interest and delight even if, fearful of the disciplinary 
reprisals, they seldom openly teased the prefects.

Several times I witnessed a spanked 18-year-old ruefully 
reproach her fellow sixth-formers for ribbing her, even 
though she herself regularly mocked them when they 
suffered the same fate. "It isn't funny!" she would blurt 
out hotly as she rubbed her hot, red, tingling bottom. 
"Oh yes, it is!" was the inevitable reply from her 
classmates, and they maintained that position until the 
roles were reversed and it was them on the receiving end.

I have often pondered on the psychology and the morality 
of all this. After all, our strict Catholic school put 
the emphasis firmly on the Christian virtues such as 
loving thy neighbour as thyself. Yet, despite our sound 
religious formation, even us nice middle class young 
ladies from this posh grammar school, like everyone else, 
were tainted with original sin. We did not love our 
neighbour as ourselves; we laughed and rejoiced at our 
neighbour's misfortunes, and we thought it was sexy and 
funny when our neighbour took something that we hated and 
resented when we took it ourselves.

Well, let us repent, we young ladies now grown old! Let 
us think what price the Lord may exact for our atonement 
on the Day of Judgement, when he resurrects us in our 
prime, as youthful women again, and we stand as sinners 
before him! Did not God, in his infinite wisdom and 
mercy, provide young ladies with a perfectly proportioned 
section of their anatomy, and did he not design it 
excellently as a target for the reception of retributive 
justice? When the moon turns to blood I am in hope that 
all of those little minxes who teased me about my 
spankings will get their comeuppance, and will be made to 
sting and tingle again for their sins. The prophet Isaiah 
with a plimsoll in his hand would be the perfect avenger, 
fatherly and fair, but firm and just, as he was in the 
olden days when he thundered against the evils of Judah. 
I myself will not escape his retribution; but I would 
rather enter Paradise with a hot, red, tingling bottom 
than not enter it at all.

 

 
 
