108 lines
6.0 KiB
Plaintext
108 lines
6.0 KiB
Plaintext
JANE & PASTOR VERN
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Two months and three days after I turned 15, my mother found God and God
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gave her Pastor Vern- at least that's the way she tells it. Up until then, I
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thought that my mother was happy having a little family of two. My father
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exited the scene when I was a baby. Apparently my mother wanted more than
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just a teenage daughter to keep her company. I wouldn't have minded God; I
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wouldn't have minded a man; this particular combination of man and God was a
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disaster.
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When my mother took God into her life, she expected me to go along for
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more than just the ride. All of a sudden I was going to church (I hadn't
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been before) two to three times on Sunday and on Wednesday nights. Before
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this I had heard about sin but didn't think too much about it- sin was the
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kinds of things that criminals did, not everyday folks and certainly not
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little kids and teenagers. Well, according to Pastor Vern, I was very much
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mistaken. The Good Book says we are sinners from the day we are born and
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that sinners are punished (I kinda knew that). In the first week at this
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church I heard more about sin and all of its colorful variations than I had
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heard in all of my 15 previous years.
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It didn't take me too long to realize that Pastor Vern was particularly
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concerned with sins of the flesh- I heard allot about fornication, harlots,
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sodomy, and the abomination of homosexual behavior. I guess that gluttony
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didn't count for much with him since he practically need a sling to hold up
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his gut. Since I was a virgin, I didn't think I was one of the awful
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sinners. I didn't really think that I was a sinner at all but then Pastor
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Vern pronounced that thought was equivalent to the deed. Well I had
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certainly had thoughts about fornication, lots of thoughts. Isn't that what
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15 year old girls and boys do. We passed around our favorite books with the
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pages with the sexy parts dog-eared. Even after listening to Pastor Vern
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rant and rave about this, I still didn't think that it had a lot to do with
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me. I guess that obeying one's father and mother was also a Biggie. I
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hadn't heard that one yet or the spare the rod bit. Until................
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My mother had been dating Pastor Vern for a few weeks when she began
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feeding him too. He started to come to our house for supper. One night I
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got a phone call after supper and got into an earnest
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conversation with one of my girl friends.
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"Jane, I want you to do the dishes now," said my mother.
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" Aw Mom, cool it!" I replied.
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I looked at my mother out of the corner of my eye when I saw her give a
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pleading look to Pastor Vern.
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Then I heard him say to her, " Beth, you know that I've told you that you
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aren't giving Jane what she needs. You know that you shouldn't put up with
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that lip. She needs a good spanking."
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When I heard him say that, I slammed down the phone and ran from the
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room yelling, "No, you won't!"
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When I got to my bedroom, I slammed the door shut and locked it. I fell
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against the door panting but feeling safe. A couple of seconds later there
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was a pounding at my door and Pastor Vern said, "Open this door right this
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minute or I'll break it down and it will be all the worse for you!" I
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hesitated for a second or two and then reluctantly opened the door.
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No sooner had I opened the door then he grabbed me by the arm and yanked
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me towards my bed. The next thing I knew he was sitting on the bed and I was
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sprawled across his lap. He put one arm across my back to hold me down and
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used his other hand to pull down my shorts and then my panties. He gasped
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out, "Now I going to beat some obedience into your bottom!" For a second I
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could feel a rush of cool air on my bare butt. Then all of a sudden I felt a
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hard smack one cheek and then another smack on the other. He paused for a
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moment and I began to hope that this was all there was to it. Before I got
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very far into this way of thinking, he said, "Now Jane, this is what happens
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to bad girls and before I'm through your bottom is going to be so sore that
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sitting is going to be very hard. Something to think about while you're
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praying for forgiveness." As his last syllable faded away, he renewed the
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assault on my poor behind. At first it was merely sore and then it started
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to feel hot and like it had been stung by a thousand bees. I was crying and
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screaming for him to stop but he didn't listen. I started kicking and he did
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stop but only to tell me that if I kicked once more he would give it to me
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for another five minutes. I stopped kicking and he gave me a couple more
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swats and then stopped.
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He made me stand up and said, "Cover up your butt and then get down on
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your knees and pray for forgiveness."
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Slowly, I bent over to pull up my panties and my shorts. Even the act of
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pulling my silky panties over my inflamed bottom caused me to cry harder.
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"Down on your knees!" he ordered.
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I sank to my knees and started muttering through my sobs.
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"What are you saying?" he asked. "I can't understand a word. I want to
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hear you beg the Lord for
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forgiveness."
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I managed to shout out my repentance and he seemed satisfied. He turned
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to leave the room and turned back when he got to the door and said, "This is
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just a taste of what's to come if you don't learn to act like a proper
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Christian girl!" He left the room, closing the door behind him.
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When he was gone, I carefully pulled down my shorts and then my panties.
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I ran my hand lightly over my red, raw bottom. Even the merest touch
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increased the pain. I took off my shirt and bra and then put on a light
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summer nightgown. I was still sobbing. I pulled down the covers on my bed
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and lay down on it face down and pulled up my nightie. I was hoping that
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some cool night air would ease some of the throbbing. It didn't help. I
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turned over onto my back with the idea that the cool sheets would help.
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Nothing helped and I had many hours away contemplating what my life was going
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to be like and how many more spankings I would get with Pastor Vern in my
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life.
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