I’m his Mommy. He is eight. We are in Church. The Priest invites us into the vestry, ostentatiously shuts the door, and asks if it would be all right if he took my son’s diaper off, wiped away any brown stain, and put his p**** into the b*** cleft. I say yes, of course. Then he says, is it all right if I beat your son on the bare buttocks with a school strap? I say yes, provided you beat me too. He gives my son twelve smacks with the strap, leaving him crying and with dark red cheeks. Then he applies some gelatine and the c*** goes into the opening. ‘Thank you,’ he says as he unloads into my son’s rear. ‘That’s fine,’ I say, ‘you’re welcome, but remember your promise to strap my b** as well as his.’ ‘Bend over the table,’ he says, ‘lift your skirt and drop your p******.’ I love the way this man spanks. As he beats me, he fondles my son’s buttocks and his big balls. (More later…)