Rectory of Correction by Amanita Virosa

flogging of comely young ladies, of all races and complexions, from around the world.
    Faith found these pictures exerted a horrid fascination, but she knew she had no time to peruse the scenes today. How long would Rose’s plump bottom distract him? she wondered as she quickly unbuttoned her dress. The answer came almost at once as the door flew open.
    â€˜Good God,’ he bellowed, ‘how long does it take you to strip, you lazy little slut?’
    Faith had finished struggling out of her uniform. She wore no drawers, only a long black satin corset and silk stockings, but the corset was a devil to get off.
    â€˜Leave it!’ he said hoarsely as her fingers began to tug at the beast’s front fastenings. ‘Come here and get down on your knees.’
    Faith needed no further bidding. As quickly as she could she scuttled over and sank to her knees before his towering figure. The only sounds in the room for a long moment were the ticking of the mantel clock and the creaking of her corset as she got into position.
    â€˜Flies,’ he growled.
    Faith knew her fate now as her fluttering fingers unbuttoned the fly of his coarse tweed trousers. The cane swished in his right hand still, cutting through the air impatiently as she completed her task. His left hand caused the blood to surge to her cheeks, however, for in that he held the butter dish.
    His erect manhood sprang out of his fly like some long-incarcerated prisoner, suddenly released. The sight of it, as always, filled Faith with almost reverential awe. She bowed her head towards his purplish glans and began to lick.
    â€˜No!’ The slap caught her across the face, knocking Faith sprawling sideways across the carpet with a gasp. ‘Not today, you greedy little slut!’
    The Reverend seemed to be having trouble maintaining his self-control, not a phenomenon Faith had often witnessed before.
    â€˜Bend over the end of the bed,’ he ordered.
    With a whimper, Faith hurried to obey. Her corset creaked lustily in protest as she struggled against the resilient whalebone stays. Feet wide apart, for this position was not new to her – and the penalty for closing her thighs had been enthusiastically demonstrated time and again – she clutched the satin eiderdown in desperate hands and waited for her bottom to explode with pain.
    â€˜Do you need a few stripes to warm you up, girl?’ The Reverend sounded very strained now.
    â€˜No.’ Her own voice sounded weak with fear. ‘Th-thank you, sir...’ Faith scarcely dared believe she might escape a thrashing at this stage, but his question had sounded genuine enough.
    The cane landed on the eiderdown beside her right hand. A startled gurgle escaped from deep in her throat as strong fingers probed. ‘Good God,’ the Reverend’s voice rumbled close to her ear, ‘you little slut. You’re dripping like a tap.’
    Faith felt herself blush to the roots of her hair as he continued his brusque appraisal of her state of arousal. He gave a low chuckle that made her want to disappear with shame. Then she felt his fingers withdraw and pat her bottom fondly.
    â€˜Your juices are running down the insides of your legs.’
    There was a moment’s pause and then she felt his finger probe her anus.
    â€˜Hold still, you saucy bitch,’ he murmured as he applied the butter. ‘I shall still give you a few licks with the stick if you do not keep that sweet bottom in place.’
    Faith could not prevent a moan escaping. She had no wish to earn herself a whipping, but the maddening sensation of his lubricated finger as it explored her anal ring was driving her way beyond distraction. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed to stay in position as he teased the sphincter muscle into relaxation. All Faith could do was to bite her bottom lip and grip the eiderdown in white-knuckled hands.
    There came another pause. Her corset creaked a little as she