Story Fragment: Spanking on the Day of Judgement I am now a lady into early old age, but in the 1950s and 60s I was a lusty, nubile schoolgirl. In those days corporal punishment was common throughout the English educational system. At my all girls Catholic grammar school, which I attended between the ages of 11 and 19, disciplinary slipperings were numerous; the cane was seldom used, but a gym pump was routinely applied to the rumps of naughty schoolgirls, and it used to sting like hell. It was inflicted at the end of PT (Physical Training) lessons across thin, tightly stretched gym knickers. The slaps (usually between six and twelve) came very sharp, and re- echoed around the rafters. The Dean of Discipline who dished them out was a kinky old lesbian nun. With that large floppy plimsoll in her hand she was a fiend, and she punished our schoolgirl peccadilloes with joyful ferocity. I myself took it regularly, culminating, just before my nineteenth birthday, in 12 stinging, bum- sizzling belters for smoking in the lavatories. All of us girls used to hate taking these spankings. But nearly everyone, including myself, thought it was sexy and funny when someone else was on the receiving end, especially if she was a well-developed, meaty, nubile sixth-former. News of the spanking of every girl aged 16+ was rapidly disseminated throughout the school, and the victims were mercilessly teased. Their red rumps would be pointed at and giggled over by their classmates in the communal showers; they would be offered cushions to sit on for weeks afterwards, and so on. Most embarrassingly for the victims, the younger girls discussed the spankings inflicted upon their seniors with gleeful interest and delight even if, fearful of the disciplinary reprisals, they seldom openly teased the prefects. Several times I witnessed a spanked 18-year-old ruefully reproach her fellow sixth-formers for ribbing her, even though she herself regularly mocked them when they suffered the same fate. "It isn't funny!" she would blurt out hotly as she rubbed her hot, red, tingling bottom. "Oh yes, it is!" was the inevitable reply from her classmates, and they maintained that position until the roles were reversed and it was them on the receiving end. I have often pondered on the psychology and the morality of all this. After all, our strict Catholic school put the emphasis firmly on the Christian virtues such as loving thy neighbour as thyself. Yet, despite our sound religious formation, even us nice middle class young ladies from this posh grammar school, like everyone else, were tainted with original sin. We did not love our neighbour as ourselves; we laughed and rejoiced at our neighbour's misfortunes, and we thought it was sexy and funny when our neighbour took something that we hated and resented when we took it ourselves. Well, let us repent, we young ladies now grown old! Let us think what price the Lord may exact for our atonement on the Day of Judgement, when he resurrects us in our prime, as youthful women again, and we stand as sinners before him! Did not God, in his infinite wisdom and mercy, provide young ladies with a perfectly proportioned section of their anatomy, and did he not design it excellently as a target for the reception of retributive justice? When the moon turns to blood I am in hope that all of those little minxes who teased me about my spankings will get their comeuppance, and will be made to sting and tingle again for their sins. The prophet Isaiah with a plimsoll in his hand would be the perfect avenger, fatherly and fair, but firm and just, as he was in the olden days when he thundered against the evils of Judah. I myself will not escape his retribution; but I would rather enter Paradise with a hot, red, tingling bottom than not enter it at all.