Many years ago, when I was a young boy, I was in the choir at the local church. At eighteen years old my voice had broken some time before so I was slotted into singing at the back. One evening after midweek practice the vicar asked me to stay back as there was a favour, he would like to ask me. I was to go over to the vicarage after putting away all of the hymn sheets and books. I was keen on the idea as I might see his wife who was a bit of a honey. He was in his forties but she was at least ten years his junior. I duly made my way over and knocked on the front door. The vicar answered the door and invited me in.
"The favour I wanted to ask you was to ask if you had a head for heights."
"Yes, I think so." I replied. "What does it entail?"
"We have a light fitting in the ceiling at the turn of the stairs which needs a very long ladder. We have a ladder, but even with that it is going to be a stretch. I don't have a head for heights at all so I can't even attempt it."
"Let's get the ladder and see how much of a stretch it is once we have it in position."
We retrieved the ladder from outside and positioned it on the stairs and leaned it up against the wall. It meant that I would have to climb the ladder and stand on the third rung from the end, brace myself against the wall with one hand while I changed the bulb with the other.
"If you think it's too dangerous don't attempt it Michael" he said.
"I think I will be OK" I replied. I'll come back down the ladder if I decide it's too dangerous.
I climbed the ladder to remove the bulb after first removing the glass cover. This proved more difficult than I thought but I wanted to hang around long enough to ogle the vicar's wife, Mrs Wallace. I had released the glass cover and looked down to see the very same Mrs Wallace looking up at me from the foot of the stairs, holding on to the ladder. She wore a light summer dress cut fairly low, straight across from strap to strap. Because she was leaning slightly forward the material of her dress creased in the middle outward allowing me a great view of her cleavage. I nearly fell off the ladder!
"Just be careful up there." she said.
I came down the ladder slowly pretending to watch my footing all the while sneaking a look at her magnificent cleavage.
"Thanks for holding the ladder for me, it made me feel a lot safer."
A couple of more trips each time a view of her cleavage and the job was done. The vicar was most appreciative of my efforts. "My pleasure" thought I.
"Would you like a soda?" Mrs Wallace asked.
The vicar led me to the kitchen and pulled out a chair for me.
Mrs Wallace leaned right across the table and put a drink down for me giving me another eyeful of cleavage. All of a sudden, the vicar's demeanour changed.
"You're having inappropriate thoughts, aren't you?" He demanded.
I thought he was talking to me and I was about to blurt out my confession when Mrs Wallace spoke.
"It's not my fault, you know how the devil tempts me."
"Is he in you now?" the vicar asked.
"Yes. He is making me think bad things again."
"What the fuck?" I thought. "Are these people crazy or religious fanatics?" I didn't dare move.
"I am sorry Michael, she gets possessed by the devil, sometimes his demons which make her do and say some bad things, mostly sexual. Most times a beating will drive the demon from her. Will you help me to beat it out of her?"
"NNNNnno." I shook my head.
"Please Michael, just hold her shoulders down on the table." As he pushed her head forward and down onto the kitchen table. "Put both hands on her shoulders." I did as I was told.
He began slapping her backside with the flat of his hand. "No please don't vicar!" I pleaded.
"He must" Mrs Wallace said. "It's the only way other than a full exorcism!"
The vicar continued to wallop her arse. He wasn't satisfied with smacking over her dress so he lifted it along with her slip high over her back exposing her nylon clad legs. She was wearing light blue panties beneath her pantyhose. The shape of her arse from my viewpoint looked like the shape of a heart. It wobbled deliciously each time he slapped her. He continued smacking although it didn't appear to be too severe. He left his hand on her buttocks while he asked "where did the demon enter you?"
"I don't know, it could have been any of the nine openings, I felt a strange feeling all over everything."
The vicar must have seen my puzzlement as he explained. "The nine openings Michael are the eyes, ears, nostrils, mouth, sphincter and vagina."
"What's a sphincter?"
"An arse hole". I was shocked hearing a vicar say this.
"Hold her down, I'll be a minute."
He came back holding a wooden handled whip about a foot long with about six strands of about eighteen inches long. He began to whip her, again not severely. The strands were indeed not of leather as I first thought but looked like something softer. Mrs Wallace cried out in pain, yelping at each stroke. Also, with each stroke the vicar would shout "out demon, get thee gone."
"Help me, Michael; beat the devil out of her."
Mrs Wallace saw my hesitation and said "Help me Michael, I have sinned with immoral thoughts."
I walked around the table and took the whip from the vicar. He took my place where I sat and held Mrs Wallace's hands. My first swings with the whip were ineffectual. It was completely against my nature to hurt someone in such a vulnerable position. "Harder Michael." Intoned the vicar.
"Yes Michael, harder." agreed Mrs Wallace. "You need to drive it out with force."
