Up until I fled the compound in 1976, I was part of a religious cult where you were often married off to a ‘bishop’ by the time you were 15.

We were in a compound located in Hillsdale, Arizona. I was born in 1948 and spent the next 28 years there. Many reports have been released regarding the perversion of the church leaders in regards to punishment. I have written some accounts of my encounters with being spanked and how in some strange way, I came to like it some.

It was approximately two months after my first night session when I would again feel the wrath of Mr M’s hard smacking hand. Around 7:45 pm he came into the 1st to 3rd grade living quarters for his nightly inspection and began to scope out the sleeping areas. After two minutes or so, he asked in his gruff voice: “Who’s bed is this?” pointing at my bunk.

“It’s mine,” I said, and I knew immediately I was in trouble. I did not make my bed up after I had awakened that morning, which was against the church’s regulations.

He said: “Rachel, come with me and don’t argue,” as we walked to the doorway.

He stopped until I had walked in front of him, and he proceeded to point toward his office.

I had learned by now that you do not plead or argue with him as this just resulted in more punishment. After the long walk, we came to his office where he opened the door and gave me a slight push in the back as we entered. He then closed the door, grabbed my right arm and led me to his desk.

He sat there for a moment with his head down and then said: “Rachel, Rachel, Rachel. Why do you make me have to do this? You know the beds must be made up every day and you know that those who don’t get punished.”

I just stared at the floor and waited for his next comment.

He then asked: “Do you have any excuse for not doing it?”

I had no excuse and no reply.

He then asked why my hair was up in a bun.

I looked up and said: “I was trying to look like Grace Kelly in the Life magazine.”

“You are much too young to be presenting yourself like that and I don’t want to see it again,” he gruffed in response.

He then went to his chair, sat down, leaned over to his right, grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to his side.

He paused for a moment, then said: “Raise your arms.”

I did and he proceeded to remove my sleeping smock and placed it on his desk. He then told me that I would get 15 swats for not making up my bed and 15 for my ‘mature’ hairstyle.

“Bend over my lap and grab the chair legs,” he said.

As I bent over he, as before, used his left hand to press my shoulder blade to push me all the way on to his lap. That hand then shifted to the small of my back. He took his large, rough, well-tanned hand and placed it on my bared butt, patted it twice and then delivered the first swat. POP!

As always, my entire backside was stinging like an army of ants was biting me. He paused for a few seconds and delivered the third, fourth and fifth spanks in quick succession. I was now crying and I waited for the spanking to continue. He repeated the rule about making your bed, which took about 10seconds or so, and then delivered the sixth.

He paused about 5 seconds between the next several swats as he slowly chastised me about my hairdo.

He said: “You are a child of God,” (SWAT). “What you see in those worldly magazines?” (SWAT). “It is not something you want to imitate,” (SWAT). “Those people live immoral lives,” (SWAT). “And they spit at God whenever they get a chance,” (SWAT). “From now on,” (SWAT). “You are to dress and present yourself as the child you are,” (SWAT). “Do you understand?”

I was crying, but I managed a: “Yes Sir,” to which he replied: “Good,” paused for about 10 seconds or so and then gave the final 17 spanks or so in rapid succession.

I lay on his lap for about 30 seconds or so as he lightly patted my behind and told me how he hated to spank us. Then he released his left hand off of my back, helped me up and handed me my smock and said to put it on and get in bed.

I said: “Yes Sir,” as I quickly left the room and headed back to the living quarters. I got into bed and could still feel the stinging sensation. No one asked where I had been as I guess it was quite obvious. After a few minutes, I was asleep. The next morning my bed was made up as soon as I got out of it.

RB