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The Priest Teaches His Flock

(Part 1 from 4)

Chapter 1 Sally is Punished 

It is the late 1950's in the farming region of the Bible belt. The economy is booming, with bountiful harvests. Even in good times farm life is still hard. The farmers in this region have a deep religious background and this permeates from the job into the family life and upbringing of the children. The church has an enormous hold over the lives of the people.

Father John, the local Catholic priest had only been in this part of the 
country for about a month. He was just starting to get use to the rural 
life, his other parishes being in very large cities. He had been on a 
"retreat" for the last six months, the church forcing him to undergo a 
forced re-indoctrination training. It was because it was his third offense. He had been caught two other times for "sexual misconduct”. The other two times he was just transferred to a new parish, in a new part of the country. The Bishop usually admonished him for his sins and made sure that he was no longer his problem. When transferred, his new parish never knew about his past “sins”. The last time involved some 18 year old girls, Father John preferring them younger and younger each time. He had to undergo a period of “meditation” at a seminary for “trouble priests.” He had played the game well, confessing his sins, humbled by his transgressions and acted genuinely repentive of his sins. The church welcomed him back, a new man with a new parish. But his new parish was no longer in a big city, no longer a large church, they had moved him to a small town in the bible belt hoping that he would have less chance to re-engage his past problems.

The church had about 100 members including all of the children. It was over 150 miles to the nearest good size city. In this town, Saturday night was the movies and then home. Sunday was set aside for church and family. Father John was welcomed graciously by the town folk, them being without a parish priest for over six months since their last one passed away of old age. To the town, Father John was their savior, a fairly handsome man in his mid forties, intelligent, personable with the entire town folk, especially the woman and a wise, religious man. 

The first thing Father John did was to begin giving private religious training after school and on the weekend for some of the children. Some of the parents had spoken to him about their rebellious children, especially some of the girls. The 1950’s had brought rock and roll, Elvis Presley and television to the heartland. The parents had been brought up strictly and continued to raise their children in the same tradition. Many had been punished using belts and severe spankings and thought nothing of continuing that in raising their children. Some had even given Father John permission to punish their children if they misbehaved. 

Sally was the oldest daughter of Stan and Mary. She had a younger sister, Becky and an older brother, Mark, who had already graduated from high school and was helping his father work the farm. Becky was the level-headed girl in the family, with Sally seemingly always getting into trouble. She followed her heart more then her head and that usually that got her into trouble. 

Sally is a very pretty girl, 5 feet, 4 inches tall, a bouncy pony tail always in her light brown hair. Her breasts were 34-C’s, creamy white flesh accented by dark brown areola’s about the size of half dollars and her nipples, a deep red, grew to a inch long when hard and erect. She had shapely legs due to the exercise she got in helping her family on the farm doing chores. Her ass was firm and pert. She was still a virgin. Almost everyone in this small town was a virgin until they married, or at least were engaged. No one could suffer through a scandal in a small town if caught engaging in pre-marital sex, especially good Catholics.

Sally was sitting on the big desk. Her legs were spread wide, her skirt had ridden up her thighs, way above her knees. Her thighs ached, her legs wanting to close but Father John had placed a cross in a small hole on the edge of the desk. He made Sally place her legs outside the cross. She was ordered not to touch the cross with any part of her body. If she did, God and Father John would punish her.

“Please Father John, it hurts,” Sally cried.

“Now, now, Sally. The Lord requires you to suffer for him.” He stepped in front of her, gazing down at her half naked legs. His cock bulged out the front of his pants, but Sally was too interested in her own problems to gaze at him. His hands reached down and rested on her knees. He could feel her body trembling, her muscles pulling to keep her legs spread so wide. “Fifteen more minutes. You must be punished for not remembering your lessons.” He let his fingers slowly move over her knees, stroking the young flesh. She did not protest his seemingly innocent touching. 

Her parents had already admonished her when she had tried to protest that Father John was being inappropriate with her. Her Mother had slapped her face, telling her that she was imagining it and was just a young girls foolish thoughts. A priest does not have impure thoughts. Sally was told to do everything that Father John wished. He would teach her the ways of the church. They had even given him permission to punish her in whatever manner he saw fit. That was the end of the conversation forever.

Father John saw no resistance on Sally’s part so he increased his fondling of her young flesh. “I can feel your muscles straining. I know it is painful. You must not touch the crosses or you will have to suffer further punishment. Here let me help you.” His hands slid down to the inside of her knees and began to apply pressure. “Now don’t touch the crosses, but let your legs part open, yes, such a good girl,” watching as her legs began to bow open. His hands moved up her inner thighs, feeling the taut flesh, the muscles straining from the obscene position her had placed her in. He had done this many times before, using the crosses to force young girls into spread positions, their young, nubile bodies open for his fondling. He had many more position that he would place Sally in, each time using the crosses to keep her open and available.

Sally’s thighs ached, her muscles trembling in pain. It had been over forty five minutes, the clock in front of her slowly ticking off the time. Father John had placed her on the desk, making her slide back. She was leaning back, her arms outstretched behind her keeping her upright. He had her open her legs, first her right one, opening it all the way until it hung over the side edge of the desk. 

“Very good Sally, now I’m going to place a cross in the hole in the desk. I want your leg on the outside of it. Don’t touch it with your leg. If you touch the blessed cross I will have to punish you severely.”

He had to help her with her left leg, his large hand grasping her slim ankle, slowly spreading it over to the other side of the desk. It immediately began to hurt. No matter how young her body was, it was just not that limber. “Please Father John, that hurts,” she begged him, but he continued to pull her open, feeling like she was being split up the middle. She did not even notice her skirt rising up high on her thighs.

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When her left leg hung over the side of the desk, he got out another shiny cross, placing it in a hole in the desk. She had not noticed the holes. Her thighs ached, her groin felt like it was splitting up the middle as she watched the clock slowly count out the seconds.

Father John watched her strain, her face grimacing in pain as the minutes passed. The position she was in forced her young breasts up, straining the buttons on the school blouse she was wearing. He could see some naked flesh between them. Soon he would have her stripped to the waist, her breasts available for him to fondle but also to punish. 

He was now enjoying the feeling of her young flesh beneath his fingertips as he caressed her naked, inner thighs. He stood between her outstretched legs, his arms under her skirt, his fingers clenching and unclenching on her tender flesh. ‘Almost finished Sally, just ten more minutes,” his hands moving up higher, her skirt slowly rising. He caught the first glimpse of a pair of white cotton panties. His hands moved to the top of her legs, sliding up and down from her knee up until it reached under her skirt. 

Sally was to busy trying to survive the next ten minutes to worry about his fondling hands of her naked legs, her lips clenched tightly, straining to keep the obscene spread of her legs. Father Johns hands actually almost felt good as the rubbed her tired muscles. She looked down, her face flushed as she realized how high her skirt had ridden up. He had his hands high up under her skirt, feeling the rough, calloused hands rubbing over her tender inner thighs. He was running his fingers close to the spread of her legs, feeling the fingers begin to pinch her tender flesh. “OOOW, that hurts Father John, OOOOW,” his fingers feeling like he was bruising her thighs. She let her legs spread wider, the pain in her groin increasing.

“Good girl Sally,” pleased that she spread her legs wider, thinking that she was allowing him even greater access beneath her skirt. He pushed her skirt up high onto her stomach, her white panties now completely exposed to his glaring eyes. His hands grabbed her legs on each side of her exposed groin, his fingers resting tightly against her pussy lips, pushing down onto the virgin flesh.

“Father John, it’s time, I’ve finished the hour, please let me up.”

Father John looked at the clock, she was correct, the hour was up. He moved out from beneath her legs, pulling the crosses from the corner of the desk. 

Sally closed her legs as soon as she saw the crosses removed, sitting up quickly.

“Sally, pull down your skirt!” Father John admonished her. “This is a church!”

Sally looked down, realizing that her skirt was not even covering her panties, pulling it down quickly, her eyes staring at the floor, not wanting to even look into his eyes.

“You may go now, Sally. I will see you tomorrow at the same time. Now this time, make sure you learn your lessons.” He watched her as she ran out of the room.

Sally walked into the house, hearing her mother on the phone. She walked into the living room, her mother sitting down talking on the phone.

“Yes Father John. Thank you very much. She did? I can’t thank you enough. If she misbehaves again, you have our permission to deal out whatever punishment you think is appropriate. Thank you, Father John, see you in mass on Sunday.”

“Father John says you were bad and had to be punished.”

“Yes, Mother, but let me explain.”

“Nothing to explain. Father John told me how well you took your punishment. He was very proud of you. Says you are doing very well, except for a few cases of your misbehavior. But he says that he has devised some very clever punishments to make sure that your behaviors do not repeat themselves. As I told him, he has our permission to do whatever he feels is necessary. We have complete confidence in Father John to do what is right. Now go upstairs and change your clothes, I need some help with dinner. Hurry now, the men will be inside soon and they will be hungry. You know how your father doesn’t like to wait for his dinner.”

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