A liking for a new craze meets with opposition from religious leaders

By Frances Stephenson

(Illustration by kind permission of Janusworldwide.com)

This short story is intended as a tribute to Anton, the artist who published the picture some years ago in the well known spanking magazine, Janus. I was so impressed by Anton’s skill and by his composition that I decided to weave a short story around it.

 Anton. If you read this please be in touch with me via OTD. The use of your drawing is meant to be a tribute to your skill and composition. I have spent some months trying to track you down but with no success.

The drawing is interesting as it provides a tableaux of conflicting emotions. The cruelty and interest shown by the two clerical gentlemen, the shrinking apprehension shown by the girl already heightened by her spanking and with the prospect of further action to come.

Mrs Molloy lived with her daughter in the small but important town of St Kilda in Southern Ireland. A once attractive woman, she had matured into a stern faced widow with strong and deeply held religious beliefs. She kept a watchful eye on her daughter Kathleen who was a typical Irish beauty with dark hair, pale dewy skin and arresting deep blue eyes. She had been blessed with a great figure and moved with a sinuous grace. When she appeared on the athletics track or on the netball court there was always a group of boys admiring her graceful movement or watching her creamy legs running around the track. Mrs Molloy was well aware of the attractions her daughter had for the opposite sex and did her level best to guard against them.

Although the town was small, it boasted a cathedral. Mrs Molloy enjoyed a special status as her brother, Michael, was father of the parish and her eldest brother, James, was the Bishop. Naturally they both lived in St Kilda in a rather forbidding grey stone house.

The brothers were stern and rigid disciplinarians and many families in the district sent their offspring to be dealt with by the bothers; a regular stream of tearful teenagers were to be seen leaving the rectory, some rubbing their painful hindquarters having been shown the error of their ways.

Although Mrs Molloy spanked Kathleen, she also sent her to her brothers for ‘something extra’ knowing that these two gentlemen would spank Kathleen harder than she was able and also Father Michael was expert in the use of the cane. Several were kept at the rectory and Father Michael took this aspect of his duties very seriously and wielded his cane with some severity.

Mrs Molloy was on her way to visit her brothers as there was an aspect of Kathleen’s recent behaviour that needed attention and she would value her brothers guidance on the matter.

Kathleen had said she was going to spend the night with Kate Reilly, her best friend, but it came to Jeanne Molloy’s notice that these two girls, along with many others, had attended a large riotous party held in the large Hall some way from the centre if the Town. The party had been loud and filled with young people.

In principle, Mrs Molloy was not against this sort of event but Kathleen had deliberately misled her with seemingly innocent remarks about their evening activities. In Mrs Molloy’s book, Kathleen had deliberately lied and that would have to be dealt with in a severe manner.

“Come in, Jeanne,” said Father Michael. “I was about to ring you on the telephone but now you are here it will make my job all the easier.”

“I would like to send Kathleen to you for a good spanking,” said Jeanne. “She prevaricated about staying the night with her friend Kate and sneaked off to the party at O’Donnell’s Barn. It is some time since you spanked her and I think it is high time that she had a reminder.”

“I certainly agree,” said Father Michael. “But Kathleen has been involved in something more serious and I want your permission to deal with her.”

“Whatever can you mean Michael?” Said a mystified Jeanne.

“Kathleen was seen performing an enthusiastic ‘twerking’ dance at the party; this dance is so licentious that it needs to be stamped out without out delay so that it does not corrupt any of our young people. If I deal with the few offenders today I will, hopefully, cut it out before it spreads.”

“So, what is this ‘twerking’ business?” Said Jeanne.

“I hardly dare describe it to you, a good Christian woman,” said her brother. “But as your daughter is involved I think it only right that you should know. The male stays upright but moves gently with the rhythm of the music and the girl bends over at right angles and thrusts her gyrating hips into the crotch of the man whilst making facial expressions to simulate real or assumed enjoyment. The girl would be wearing tight and thin trousers or possibly a short skirt in which case it would be her knickered bottom coming into contact with the man’s crotch. I need hardly tell you what effect these actions will have on the young man.” Michael was becoming quite flushed with his own passionate description. “The whole thing is lewd and lascivious in the extreme.”

Mrs Molloy was clearly shocked. “So that’s twerking,” she said. “Kathleen must be severely dealt with to make sure that she does not do this again.”

“I propose to cane all the girls who were involved,” stated Father Michael. “And hope that very sore bottoms will prevent them from repeating this shocking exhibition. Now please send Kathleen to me without delay and I will see that she is severely dealt with.”

“Indeed I will, Father,” said Mrs Molloy and hurried off.

Within half an hour, the shrinking figure of Kathleen Molloy could be seen making her way to the forbidding stone house.

“There you are Kathleen,” greeted Father Michael. “I have to organise a double punishment for you. Not only did you deceive you mother about the Party at O’Donnell’s Barn, but you enthusiastically indulged in the lewd and suggestive dance called ‘twerking’. Now, be a good girl and tell me the names of all of the girls who indulged in this shameful exhibition. I already know most of them but want to complete the tally. You will receive extra strokes if you hold back.”

Perceiving her Uncle is seriously displeased, Kathleen blurted out the names of her fellow twerkers.

“Good,” said Father Michael. “Now I have some phoning to do so I will ask my brother to undertake the first part of your punishment.”

He went into the study where his brother James was relaxing. Although the Bishop is his brother, he maintained the formality which was expected.

“Sir,” he said. “Here is Kathleen Molloy who has been sent to me by our sister. She is to be well spanked and I would ask if you would undertake this duty as I have a number of urgent telephone calls to make.”

“By all means,” responded the Bishop. “Take off your skirt and knickers, Kathleen, and come here.”

Father Michael turned to go about his business and was just in time to see Kathleen bending over his brother’s lap, her naked and enticing bottom correctly positioned for a painful session with his brother’s hand.

Father Michael then spent the next half hour phoning the parents of all the girls who were engaged in twerking on Saturday night. He forcibly requested the presence of these young ladies at his house that very afternoon. Having received assurances that all seven girls would be there, he returned to the study. A rather charming and penitent tableaux awaited him.

Kathleen was feeling decidedly anxious. She had been hauled up before her elder Uncle and soundly spanked on her bare bottom. She had not, however, been given permission to leave the Drawing Room. She was only too well aware that both Uncles, but Uncle Michael in particular, enjoyed caning her bare bottom, impervious to her squeals of pain.

She would certainly squeal if she were to be caned, her sensitive bottom stung like mad and was glowing from the hiding she had just been given.

She had tried to look penitent but both of them remained impervious to her unspoken and, indeed, her spoken pleadings. She would just have to wait and hope for the best.

Father Michael thanked his brother for a job well done and then turned his attention on Kathleen. She was dressed in a shirt that barely reached her waist, knee high white socks and flat shoes with a small heel. That was all! Everything else was on display to the two men’s interested gaze which made her feel immensely vulnerable and, although her hands were modestly crossed to hide her most private parts, some dark pubic hair was in evidence showing nicely against her creamy soft thighs. They would probably take this as extra provocation rather than proof of her burgeoning sexuality. Her slip and plaited skirt and knickers lay in a heap at her feet, she did not hold out much hope of being allowed to put them back on, at least not yet.

Uncle Michael picked up a crook handled rattan which he proceeded to flex in a particularly menacing way.


“Right, young Kathleen, time to complete your lesson for today and especially for the twerking incident. You have been soundly spanked by my brother, James; now let me see what I can do to ensure that you behave yourself better. Now come over here and bend over the back of this chair.”

“No, please Uncle Michael,” Kathleen quavered. “My bottom feels so hot and sore.”


“Do as you are told,” he said. “Disobedience at this stage would be most unwise. Just concentrate on maintaining your posture; I would remind you that if you break stance, or try to avoid one of my strokes, that stroke will be repeated. Grasp the front legs and keep your legs pressed against the back of the chair, now slightly hollow your back. Very Good.”

A small sob escaped the highly stressed Kathleen and her appealing bottom twitched with dread.

“Ready, James?” Michael enquired of his brother.

“Yes, please go ahead,” responded that worthy gentleman.

The first stroke landed just below the crown and an immediate white stripe sprang to life, quickly turning red and then a darker red; it looked sore and would doubtless become more painful as the centre started to darken.

The second was about an inch lower and delivered with the same seemingly effortless efficiency of an experienced caner, a small flick of the wrist before impact increased the effectiveness and pain of the stroke.

Michael looked on with considerable satisfaction. The two stripes looking so attractive against the perfect although well fleshed and well spanked bottom. But what of Kathleen? There could be little doubt that she was not enjoying herself, not one bit! There was urgent movement of her hips as she struggled with the pain. She had been determined to take her caning with the minimum of fuss and not give him the satisfaction of him hearing her distress. This was not to be; the pain was too sharp and, right from the first stroke, a sharp squeal of pain had accompanied both strokes.

“Please stay bending.”

She pleaded with herself as she knew that Uncle Michael was perfectly capable of adding any number of penalty strokes.

The third stroke landed just under her overhang and seemed to be harder than its predecessors. Again, she squealed, but louder this time. She felt her hands move from the clamped down position on the chair front, and although she felt an urgent need to cherish her painful bottom she managed to restrain herself. By now her squeals of pain were interspersed with gulping sobs and constant mewings of pain.

The fourth and fifth strokes tried her sorely but she managed to hold station, so very difficult as the fourth had whipped onto her ‘oh so’ sensitive crease with the tip whipping viciously to mark the soft area immediately under the bulge of her bottom; the mark was very painful indeed.

The sixth stroke was the hardest yet, and Kathleen collapsed over the chair squealing and squealing in her distress.

Uncle Robert looked at her well striped bottom with satisfaction and, indeed, pleasure. Thrashing a naughty girl’s bottom was an extremely pleasurable exercise. He always looked forward to doing it to the very best of his ability and he looked forward to caning a number of girlish bottoms that very afternoon.

“Go straight home, Kathleen,” Instructed Father Michael. “And be sure to show your well punished bottom to your mother; just hope that she considers you have been punished enough or she may well insist on a further visit.”

Kathleen was still sobbing and nodded dolefully as she took in these extra instructions and the possibility of a further visit. She made her way down the path, walking very carefully and trying to contain the dreadful pain in her bottom. She paused to gently rub the afflicted area before proceeding on her way.

Father Michael watched her with some pleasure. ‘A job well done,’ he thought.

The pain in her bottom would soon mature into a stiffness that would be evident when she walked, at least for a day or so.

He observed the figure of Kathleen’s fellow sixth former, Lucy O’Neill, making her way towards his front gate.

‘Splendid,’ he thought. ‘Another bottom to be dealt with, and on time as well.’

He went to the front door to welcome young Lucy.

On Monday morning, an interested onlooker would note that three sixth form girls as well as four junior secretaries and clerks were all moving with a stiffened gait. Many of the townsfolk nodded and smiled, recalling a time when they too had to move with the same stiffness. In any event, twerking had made a brief and painful appearance in St Kilda.

The End

© Frances Stephenson 2014