It was around the ages of 9 or 10 that I began to feel strange feelings. In the cult environment I was raised in, you had no one to talk to or ask about these sensations. As I have read elsewhere, we were groomed for this and I have zero doubt ‘the bishop’ enjoyed spanking us. Instead of hitting us real hard for a few times, he would give us many, many light whacks, something he sometimes called a ‘slow roasting’ or a ‘bottom warming’.

My parents immigrated from Germany in 1957. I was born in 1963 and in 1966 my parents were killed in a car accident. I became custody of the state authorities and was placed in a ‘Christian’ orphanage. This place became my home, school and church.

Spanking was a very common occurrence and my first memory of it that stuck in my head was walking down the hallway to the lunchroom and seeing a boy in an adjourning hallway bending over a chair being paddled. I remember the noise of his crying would fluctuate every time he was struck. My 1st grade teacher was not much of a spanker, but my 2nd grade teacher was an avid participator.

When it was determined you had done something bad you would be called up to the front where you had to bend over her lap and she would lift up your dress, then hit you 4 to 6 times with great force. I received this punishment at least 25 times during the year.

Everyone 6th grade and under had to be in bed by 8:00 pm. The principal, Mr M, was a man in his early 40s, 6 ft plus and he would come by the living quarters to make sure everything was in order. At least once a week he would single someone out for an infraction and take him or her to his office for ‘some needed correction’. The victim would always return sobbing, climb into bed and roll over to face the wall so no one could see their pain and embarrassment. When you asked what happened, all they would say is they were spanked and that they were not to say anything else.

Unfortunately for me and my friends, Cathy and Stacy, our curiosity was cured in a most terrible way. One night about 8:20, we were in our beds which were across the small walkway from one another. We were making burping noises at one another and giggling heartily. Suddenly Mr M walked in and asked what was all the racket about.

A girl in a nearby bed, probably fearing she would get in trouble, said: “Rachel, Stacy and Cathy are burping on purpose and laughing.”

His face became contorted as he looked at us and said that this behavior was not acceptable, and then asked us three to come to his office. We begged and pleaded for mercy and said we would not do it again, but it fell on deaf ears. He grabbed me with one arm, and Cathy with the other, and told Stacy to walk in front of him. We were taken to his office, which was located at the other end of the facility. We were three terrified 9 year olds and we continued to tell him that we were sorry, but we kept looking ahead as he led us to his abode.

He opened the door to his office, pushed us in and closed the door. He then began a long speech about how such bad behavior was not going to be tolerated and we were going to receive a reminder not to do it again. He walked over to us and told us to raise our arms up. He proceeded to remove our sleeping smocks, which left us totally naked in the cold room. He then pulled his chair out from his desk, sat down and grabbed a paddle that was about a foot long.

He told Cathy to come to him where he instructed her to bend over his knee. As she began to lean over, he put his free hand on her upper back and pushed her all the way over. He then placed the paddle on her buttocks and tapped it lightly a couple of times and then whacked her hard. I remember the screams she let out which sent shivers down my back. He would whack her and then let the paddle rest on her butt for about 5 seconds and then do it again. She would scream and try to move, but his left hand that was pressing on her back kept her firmly in place.

After about 15 strikes, he let her up and told her put her smock back on. He then motioned me to approach him where I received the same punishment. When he stuck me, I felt as if my whole backside was burning. By the 5th or 6th hit, I was having a hard time breathing and was choking as I cried. What really made the event worse was his period of delay between smacks. What could have been done in 20 seconds or so was stretched into two to four minutes.

When he was finished with me, he beckoned Stacy over who was given her beating.

We then were told to get back in bed and warned he had better not catch us again participating in such behavior.

When I was in the sixth grade, I was called down to his office for another of the many evening sessions along with three other girls, two of them fellow sixth graders and one a fourth grader. Again we were told of the evil behavior that we had exhibited and that we would receive 12 licks. Then he told us to get ready over the table. This meant completely disrobing by removing our smocks and bending over a long portable table. All of had been here before so we knew there was no point in arguing as that would only result in more whacks.

After we were in position he became upset because Mary’s (the 4th grader) butt was not on an even plane with the rest of us, so he made her stand on two phone books. Can you believe this? He was upset because he may have to stoop a bit and we are about to be beat!

As always, he took his time as he would whack one and then step to the next one until he arrived back where he started. After he was finished, we were instructed to remain in position for several minutes while we thought about what had led to this. He would then go over and sit at his desk while we waited for his permission to get dressed and return.

When we would receive spankings from him during the day, because of something bad we had done during recess or lunch, we did not have to remove our entire school uniform, we only had to lower our underwear. He would give us a choice between 15 whacks on our bare butt or 40 on our panties.

Of course, no one I knew ever took the panty route, which is no doubt is the way he wanted it. He would tell us to pull down our panties and bend over the table. He would then use his left hand to push our skirts back and to keep us down. He would remind us that if we got out of position it would add another 5 licks to the ordeal.

The first time I had my first daytime spanking from him (all of the previous daytime beatings were done by the class teacher) was about a month after I entered the 5th grade. I was given my options and I lowered my underwear to just below my buttocks and bent over the table.

He approached and said: “I want these here,” as he used the paddle to push my panties to my knees, “and next time remember or it’s an extra 5.”

There isn’t the slightest doubt in my mind that this man was supported by this so-called Christian operation. How can his actions be justified as simple correction? I probably received over 500 whacks during my 8 years there and there were others who got it a lot more than I did.

When I was in the 7th and 8th grades, I worked as an assistant in the administration office and I saw several students go to his office for their beatings. I would hum to myself or go into the supply storage room so I would not hear their cries. And even though he spanked both boys and girls, through my fellow classmates I learned that with boys, it was in and out fairly quickly. With girls he took his time.

RB